13007	----	Popular Studies in Mythology, Romance, and Folklore, No. 12 The Edda I The Divine Mythology of the North By Winifred Faraday, M.A. Published by David Nutt, at the Sign of the Phoenix, Long Acre, London 1902 Author's Note Some explanation is needed of the form of spelling I have adopted in transcribing Norse proper names. The spirants thorn and eth are represented by _th_ and _d_, as being more familiar to readers unacquainted with the original. Marks of vowel-length are in all cases omitted. The inflexional _-r_ of the nominative singular masculine is also omitted, whether it appears as _-r_ or is assimilated to a preceding consonant (as in Odinn, Eysteinn, Heindall, Egill) in the Norse form, with the single exception of the name Tyr, where I use the form which has become conventional in English. Manchester, December 1901. The Edda: I. The Divine Mythology of the North The Icelandic Eddas are the only vernacular record of Germanic heathendom as it developed during the four centuries which in England saw the destruction of nearly all traces of the heathen system. The so-called Elder Edda is a collection of some thirty poems, mythic and heroic in substance, interspersed with short pieces of prose, which survives in a thirteenth-century MS., known as the Codex Regius, discovered in Iceland in 1642; to these are added other poems of similar character from other sources. The Younger Edda is a prose paraphrase of, and commentary on, these poems and others which are lost, together with a treatise on metre, written by the historian Snorri Sturluson about 1220. This use of the word Edda is incorrect and unhistorical, though convenient and sanctioned by the use of several centuries. It was early used as a general term for the rules and materials for versemaking, and applied in this sense to Snorri's work. When the poems on which his paraphrase is founded were discovered, Icelandic scholars by a misunderstanding applied the name to them also; and as they attributed the collection quite arbitrarily to the historian Saemund (1056-1133), it was long known as Saemundar Edda, a name now generally discarded in favour of the less misleading titles of Elder or Poetic Edda. From its application to this collection, the word derives a more extended use, (1) as a general term for Norse mythology; (2) as a convenient name to distinguish the simpler style of these anonymous narrative poems from the elaborate formality of the Skalds. The poems of the Edda are certainly older than the MS., although the old opinion as to their high antiquity is untenable. The majority probably date from the tenth century in their present form; this dating does not necessitate the ascription of the shape in which the legends are presented, still less of their substance, to that period. With regard to the place of their composition opinions vary widely, Norway, the British Isles and Greenland having all found champions; but the evidence is rather questionable, and I incline to leave them to the country which has preserved them. They are possibly of popular origin; this, together with their epic or narrative character, would account for the striking absence from them of some of the chief characteristics of Skaldic poetry: the obscuring of the sense by the elaborate interlacing of sentences and the extensive use of kennings or mythological synonyms, and the complication of the metre by such expedients as the conjunction of end-rhyme with alliteration. Eddie verse is governed solely by the latter, and the strophic arrangement is simple, only two forms occurring: (1) couplets of alliterative short lines; (2) six-line strophes, consisting of a couplet followed by a single short line, the whole repeated. Roughly speaking, the first two-fifths of the MS. is mythological, the rest heroic. I propose to observe this distinction, and to deal in this study with the stories of the Gods. In this connexion, Snorri's Edda and the mythical Ynglinga Saga may also be considered, but as both were compiled a couple of centuries or more after the introduction of Christianity into Iceland, it is uncertain how much in them is literary explanation of tradition whose meaning was forgotten; some also, especially in Snorri, is probably pure invention, fairy tale rather than myth. Many attempts have been made to prove that the material of the Edda is largely borrowed. The strength and distinction of Icelandic poetry rest rather on the fact that it is original and national and, like that of Greece, owes little to foreign sources; and that it began in the heathen age, before Christian or Romantic influences had touched Iceland. Valuable as the early Christian poetry of England is, we look in vain there for the humour, the large-minded simplicity of motive, the suggestive character-drawing, the swift dramatic action, which are as conspicuous in many poems in the Edda as in many of the Sagas. Omitting the heroic poems, there are in Codex Regius the following: (1) Of a more or less comprehensive character, _Völuspa, Vafthrudnismal, Grimnismal, Lokasenna, Harbardsljod_; (2) dealing with episodes, _Hymiskvida, Thrymskvida, Skirnisför. Havamal_ is a collection of proverbs, but contains two interpolations from mythical poems; _Alvissmal_, which, in the form of a dialogue between Thor and a dwarf Alviss, gives a list of synonyms, is a kind of mythologico-poetical glossary. Several of these poems are found in another thirteenth-century vellum fragment, with an additional one, variously styled _Vegtamskvida_ or _Baldr's Dreams_; the great fourteenth-century codex Flateybook contains _Hyndluljod_, partly genealogical, partly an imitation of _Völuspa_; and one of the MSS. of Snorri's Edda gives us _Rigsthula_. _Völuspa_, though not one of the earliest poems, forms an appropriate opening. Metrical considerations forbid an earlier date than the first quarter of the eleventh century, and the last few lines are still later. The material is, however, older: the poem is an outline, in allusions often obscure to us, of traditions and beliefs familiar to its first hearers. The very bareness of the outline is sufficient proof that the material is not new. The framework is apparently imitated from that of the poem known as _Baldr's Dreams_, some lines from which are inserted in _Völuspa_. This older poem describes Odin's visit to the Sibyl in hell-gates to inquire into the future. He rides down to her tomb at the eastern door of Nifl-hell and chants spells, until she awakes and asks: "What man unknown to me is that, who has troubled me with this weary journey? Snow has snowed on me, rain has beaten me, dew has drenched me, I have long been dead." He gives the name Wegtam, or Way-wise, and then follow question and answer until she discovers his identity and will say no more. In _Völuspa_ there is no descriptive introduction, and no dialogue; the whole is spoken by the Sibyl, who plunges at once into her story, with only the explanatory words: "Thou, Valfather, wouldst have me tell the ancient histories of men as far as I remember." She describes the creation of the world and sky by Bor's sons; the building by the Gods of a citadel in Ida-plain, and their age of innocence till three giant-maids brought greed of gold; the creation of the dwarfs; the creation of the first man and woman out of two trees by Odin, Hoeni and Lodur; the world-ash and the spring beside it where dwell the three Norns who order the fates of men. Then follows an allusion to the war between the Aesir and the Vanir, the battle with the giants who had got possession of the goddess Freyja, and the breaking of bargains; an obscure reference to Mimi's spring where Odin left his eye as a pledge; and an enumeration of his war-maids or Valkyries. Turning to the future, the Sibyl prophesies the death of Baldr, the vengeance on his slayer, and the chaining of Loki, the doom of the Gods and the destruction of the world at the coming of the fire-giants and the release of Loki's children from captivity. The rest of the poem seems to be later; it tells how the earth shall rise again from the deep, and the Aesir dwell once more in Odin's halls, and there is a suggestion of Christian influence in it which is absent from the earlier part. Of the other general poems, the next four were probably composed before 950; in each the setting is different. _Vafthrudnismal_, a riddle-poem, shows Odin in a favourite position, seeking in disguise for knowledge of the future. Under the name of Gangrad (Wanderer), he visits the wise giant Vafthrudni, and the two agree to test their wisdom: the one who fails to answer a question is to forfeit his head. In each case the questions deal first with the past. Vafthrudni asks about Day and Night, and the river which divides the Giants from the Gods, matters of common knowledge; and then puts a question as to the future: "What is the plain where Surt and the blessed Gods shall meet in battle?" Odin replies, and proceeds to question in his turn; first about the creation of Earth and Sky, the origin of Sun and Moon, Winter and Summer, the Giants and the Winds; the coming of Njörd the Wane to the Aesir as a hostage; the Einherjar, or chosen warriors of Valhalla. Then come prophetic questions on the destruction of the Sun by the wolf Fenri, the Gods who shall rule in the new world after Ragnarök, the end of Odin. The poem is brought to a close by Odin's putting the question which only himself can answer: "What did Odin say in his son's ear before he mounted the pyre?" and the giant's head is forfeit. In the third poem of this class, _Grimnismal_, a prose introduction relates that Odin and Frigg quarrelled over the merits of their respective foster-children. To settle the question, Odin goes disguised as Grimni, "the Hooded One," to visit his foster-son Geirröd; but Frigg, to justify her charge of inhospitality against Geirröd, sends her maiden Fulla to warn him against the coming stranger. Odin therefore meets with a harsh reception, and is bound between two fires in the hall. Geirröd's young son, Agnar, protests against this rude treatment, and gives wine to the guest, who then begins to instruct him in matters concerning the Gods. He names the halls of the Aesir, describes Valhalla and the ash Yggdrasil, the Valkyries, the creation of the world (two stanzas in common with _Vafthrudnismal_), and enumerates his own names. The poem ends with impressive abruptness by his turning to Geirröd: "Thou art drunk, Geirröd, thou hast drunk too deep; thou art bereft of much since thou hast lost my favour, the favour of Odin and all the Einherjar. I have told thee much, but thou hast minded little. Thy friends betray thee: I see my friend's sword lie drenched in blood. Now shall Odin have the sword-weary slain; I know thy life is ended, the Fates are ungracious. Now thou canst see Odin: come near me, if thou canst." [Prose.] "King Geirröd sat with his sword on his knee, half drawn. When he heard that Odin was there, he stood up and would have led Odin from the fires. The sword slipt from his hand; the hilt turned downwards. The king caught his foot and fell forwards, the sword standing towards him, and so he met his death. Then Odin went away, and Agnar was king there long afterwards." _Harbardsljod_ is a dialogue, and humorous. Thor on his return from the east comes to a channel, at the farther side of which stands Odin, disguised as a ferryman, Greybeard. He refuses to ferry Thor across, and they question each other as to their past feats, with occasional threats from Thor and taunts from Odin, until the former goes off vowing vengeance on the ferryman: _Thor_. "Thy skill in words would serve thee ill if I waded across the water; I think thou wouldst cry louder than the wolf, if thou shouldst get a blow from the hammer." _Odin_. "Sif has a lover at home, thou shouldst seek him. That is a task for thee to try, it is more proper for thee." _Thor_. "Thou speakest what thou knowest most displeasing to me; thou cowardly fellow, I think that thou liest." _Odin_. "I think I speak true; thou art slow on the road. Thou wouldst have got far, if thou hadst started at dawn." _Thor_. "Harbard, scoundrel, it is rather thou who hast delayed me." _Odin_. "I never thought a shepherd could so delay Asa-Thor's journey." _Thor_. "I will counsel thee: row thy boat hither. Let us cease quarrelling; come and meet Magni's father." _Odin_. "Leave thou the river; crossing shall be refused thee." _Thor_. "Show me the way, since thou wilt not ferry me." _Odin_. "That is a small thing to refuse. It is a long way to go: a while to the stock, and another to the stone, then keep to the left hand till thou reach Verland. There will Fjörgyn meet her son Thor, and she will tell him the highway to Odin's land." _Thor_. "Shall I get there to-day?" _Odin_. "With toil and trouble thou wilt get there about sunrise, as I think." _Thor_. "Our talk shall be short, since thou answerest with mockery. I will reward thee for refusing passage, if we two meet again." _Odin_. "Go thy way, where all the fiends may take thee." _Lokasenna_ also is in dialogue form. A prose introduction tells how the giant Oegi, or Gymi, gave a feast to the Aesir. Loki was turned out for killing a servant, but presently returned and began to revile the Gods and Goddesses, each one in turn trying to interfere, only to provoke a taunt from Loki. At last Thor, who had been absent on a journey, came in and threatened the slanderer with his hammer, whereupon Loki said, "I spoke to the Aesir and the sons of the Aesir what my mind told me; but for thee alone I will go away, for I know thou wilt strike." Some of the poem is rather pointless abuse, but much touches points already suggested in the other poems. _Hyndluljod_ is much later than the others, probably not before 1200. The style is late, and the form imitated from _Völuspa_. It describes a visit paid by Freyja to the Sibyl to learn the genealogy of her favourite Ottar. The larger part deals with heroic genealogies, but there are scanty allusions to Baldr, Frey, Heimdal, Loki's children, and Thor, and a Christian reference to a God who shall come after Ragnarök "when Odin shall meet the wolf." It tells nothing new. We have here then, omitting _Hyndluljod_, five poems (four of them belonging to the first half of the tenth century) which suggest a general outline of Norse mythology: there is a hierarchy of Gods, the Aesir, who live together in a citadel, Odin being the chief. Among them are several who are not Aesir by origin: Njörd and his son and daughter, Frey and Freyja, are Vanir; Loki is really an enemy and an agent in their fall; and there are one or two Goddesses of giant race. The giants are rivals and enemies to the Gods; the dwarfs are also antagonistic, but in bondage. The meeting-place of the Gods is by the World-Ash, Yggdrasil, on whose well-being the fate of Gods and men depends; at its root lies the World-Snake. The Gods have foreknowledge of their own doom, Ragnarök, the great fight when they shall meet Loki's children, the Wolf and the Snake; both sides will fall and the world be destroyed. An episode in the story is the death of Baldr. This we may assume to be the religion of the Viking age (800-1000 A.D.), a compound of the beliefs of various ages and tribes. _The Aesir._--The number of the Aesir is not fixed. _Hyndluljod_ says there were twelve ("there were eleven Aesir when Baldr went down into the howe"). Snorri gives a list of fourteen Aesir or Gods (Odin, Thor, Baldr, Njörd, Frey, Tyr, Bragi, Heimdal, Höd, Vidar, Vali, Ullr, Forseti, Loki), and adds Hoeni in another list, all the fifteen occurring in the poems; and sixteen Goddesses (Asynjor), the majority of whom are merely personified epithets, occurring nowhere else. Of the sixteen, Frigg, Gefion, Freyja and Saga (really an epithet only) are Goddesses in the poems, and Fulla is Frigg's handmaid. In another chapter, Snorri adds Idunn, Gerd, Sigyn and Nanna, of whom the latter does not appear in the Elder Edda, where Idunn, Gerd (a giantess) and Sigyn are the wives of Bragi, Frey and Loki; and two others, the giantess Skadi and Sif, are the wives of Njörd and Thor. A striking difference from classical mythology is that neither Tyr (who should etymologically be the Sky-god), nor Thor (the Thunder-god), takes the highest place. Tyr is the hero of one important episode, the chaining of the Wolf, through which he loses his right hand. This is told in full by Snorri and alluded to in _Lokasenna_, both in the prose preface ("Tyr also was there, with only one hand; the Fenris-wolf had bitten off the other, when he was bound") and in the poem itself: _Loki_. "I must remember that right hand which Fenri bit off thee." _Tyr_. "I am short of a hand, but thou of the famous wolf; to each the loss is ill-luck. Nor is the wolf in better plight, for he must wait in bonds till Ragnarök." Otherwise, he only appears in connexion with two more popular Gods: he speaks in Frey's defence in _Lokasenna_, and in _Hymiskvida_ he is Thor's companion in the search for a cauldron; the latter poem represents him as a giant's son. Thor, on the other hand, is second only to his father Odin; he is the strongest of the Gods and their champion against the giants, and his antagonist at Ragnarök is to be the World-Snake. Like Odin, he travels much, but while the chief God generally goes craftily and in disguise, to gain knowledge or test his wisdom, Thor's errands are warlike; in _Lokasenna_ he is absent on a journey, in _Harbardsljod_ and _Alvissmal_ he is returning from one. His journeys are always to the east; so in _Harbardsljod_: "I was in the east, fighting the malevolent giant-brides.... I was in the east and guarding the river, when Svarang's sons attacked me." The Giants live in the east (_Hymiskvida_ 5); Thor threatened Loki: "I will fling thee up into the east, and no one shall see thee more" (_Lokasenna_ 59); the fire-giants at Ragnarök are to come from the east: "Hrym comes driving from the east, he lifts his shield before him.... A ship comes from the east, Muspell's sons will come sailing over the sea, and Loki steers" (_Völuspa_ 50, 51). It would not, perhaps, be overstraining the point to suggest that this is a reminiscence of early warfare between the Scandinavians and eastern nations, either Lapps and Finns or Slavonic tribes. Thor is the God of natural force, the son of Earth. Two of the episodical poems deal with his contests with the giants. _Thrymskvida_, the story of how Thor won back his hammer, Mjöllni, from the giant Thrym, is the finest and one of the oldest of the mythological poems; a translation is given in the appendix, as an example of Eddic poetry at its best. Loki appears as the willing helper of the Gods, and Thor's companion. The Thunderer's journey with Tyr in quest of a cauldron is related with much humour in _Hymiskvida_: Hymi's beautiful wife, who helps her guests to outwit her husband, is a figure familiar in fairy-tales as the Ogre's wife. The chief God of the Scandinavians is, it must be confessed, an unsympathetic character. He is the head of the Valhalla system; he is Val-father (Father of the Slain), and the Valkyries are his "Wishmaidens," as the Einherjar are his "Wishsons." He naturally takes a special interest in mortal heroes, from whom come the chosen hosts of Valhalla. But, in spite of the splendour of his surroundings, he is wanting in dignity. The chief of the Gods has neither the might and unthinking valour of Thor, nor the self-sacrificing courage of Tyr. He is a God who practises magic, and it is as Father of Spells that he is powerful. He is the wisest of the Gods in the sense that he remembers most about the past and foresees most about the future; yet he is powerless in difficulty without the craft of Loki and the hammer of Thor. He always wanders in disguise, and the stories told of him are chiefly love-adventures; this is true of all the deeds he mentions in _Harbardsljod_, and also of the two interpolations in _Havamal_, though one of the two had an object, the stealing of the mead of inspiration from the giant Suptung, whose daughter Gunnlöd guarded it. _Völuspa_ makes him one of three creative deities, the other two being Lodur (probably Loki) and Hoeni, of whom nothing else is known except the story that he was given as hostage to the Vanir in exchange for Njörd. The same three Gods (Odin, Loki and Hoeni) are connected with the legend of the Nibelung treasure; and it was another adventure of theirs, according to Snorri, which led to the loss of Idunn. Of the other Gods, Bragi is a later development; his name means simply king or chief, and his attributes, as God of eloquence and poetry, are apparently borrowed from Odin. Heimdal, the watchman and "far-seeing like the Vanir," who keeps guard on the rainbow bridge Bifröst, is represented in the curious poem _Rigsthula_ as founder of the different social orders. He wandered over the world under the name of Rig, and from his first journey sprang the race of thralls, swarthy, crooked and broad-backed, who busied themselves with fencing land and tending goats and swine; from his second, the churls, fine and ruddy, who broke oxen, built houses and ploughed the land; from his third, the earls, yellow-haired, rosy, and keen-eyed, who broke horses and strung bows, rode, swam, and hurled spears; and the youngest of the earls' race was Konung the king, who knew all mysteries, understood the speech of birds, could quench fire and heal wounds. Heimdal is said to be the son of nine mothers, and to have fought with Loki for Freyja's Brising-necklace. His horn is hidden under Yggdrasil, to be brought out at Ragnarök, when he will blow a warning blast. His origin is obscure. Still less is known of Vidar and Vali, two sons of Odin, one of whom is to avenge Baldr's death, the other to slay the wolf after it has swallowed up the chief God at Ragnarök. Thor's stepson Ullr (Glory) is probably, like his sons Modi and Magni (Wrath and Strength), a mere epithet. Frigg, Odin's wife and the chief Goddess, daughter of Earth, is not very distinctly characterised, and is often confused with Freyja. Gefion should be the sea-goddess, since that seems to be the meaning of her name, but her functions are apparently usurped by the Wane Njörd; according to Snorri, she is the patron of those who die unwedded. _Baldr_.--The story of Baldr is the most debated point in the Edda. The chief theories advanced are: (1) That it is the oldest part of Norse mythology, and of ritual origin; (2) that Baldr is really a hero transformed into a God; (3) that the legend is a solar myth with or without Christian colouring; (4) that it is entirely borrowed from Mediæval Greek and Christian sources. This last theory is too ingenious to be credible; and with regard to the third, there is nothing essentially Christian in the chief features of the legend, while the solar idea leaves too much unexplained. The references to the myth in the Elder Edda are: (1) _Vegtamskvida_ (about 900 A.D.). Odin questions the Sibyl as to the meaning of Baldr's dreams: _Odin_. "For whom are the benches (in hell) strewn with rings, the halls fairly adorned with gold?" _Sibyl_. "Here the mead, clear drink, stands brewed for Baldr; the shields are spread. The sons of the Aesir are too merry." _Odin_. "Who will be Baldr's slayer and rob Odin's son of life?" _Sibyl_. "Höd bears thither the high branch of fame: he will be Baldr's slayer and rob Odin's son of life." _Odin_. "Who will avenge the deed on Höd and bring Baldr's slayer to the funeral pyre?" _Sibyl_. "Rind bears a son, Vali, in the halls of the west. He shall not wash his hands nor comb his hair till he bears Baldr's foe to the pyre." (2) In _Lokasenna_ Frigg says: "If I had a son like Baldr here in Oegi's halls, thou shouldst not pass out from the sons of the Aesir, but be slain here in thy anger"; to which Loki replies, "Wilt thou that I speak more ill words, Frigg? I am the cause that thou wilt never more see Baldr ride into the hall." (3) In _Vafthrudnismal_ the only reference is Odin's question, "What said Odin in his son's ear when he mounted the pyre?" (4) In _Völuspa_ the Sibyl prophesies, "I saw doom threatening Baldr, the bleeding victim, the son of Odin. Grown high above the meadows stood the mistletoe, slender and fair. From this stem, which looked so slender, grew a fatal and dangerous shaft. Höd shot it, and Frigg wept in Fenhall over Valhall's woe." The following lines, on the chaining of Loki, suggest his complicity. (5) _Hyndluljod_ has one reference: "There were eleven Aesir by number when Baldr went down into the howe. Vali was his avenger and slew his brother's slayer." Besides these there is a fragment quoted by Snorri: "Thökk will weep dry tears at Baldr's funeral pyre. I had no good of the old man's son alive or dead; let Hel keep what she has." _Grimnismal_ assigns a hall to Baldr among the Gods. There are, in addition, two prose versions of the story by later writers: the Icelandic version of Snorri (1178-1241) with all the details familiar to every one; and the Latin one of the Dane Saxo Grammaticus (about thirty years earlier), which makes Baldr and Höd heroes instead of Gods, and completely alters the character of the legend by making a rivalry for Nanna's favour the centre of the plot and cause of the catastrophe. On the Eddic version and on Saxo's depend the theories of Golther, Detter, Niedner and other German scholars on the one hand, and Dr. Frazer on the other. It has often been pointed out that there is no trace of Baldr-worship in other Germanic nations, nor in any of the Icelandic sagas except the late Frithjofssaga. This, however, is true of other Gods, notably of Tyr, who is without question one of the oldest. The only deities named with any suggestion of sacrifice or worship in the Icelandic sagas proper are Odin, Thor, Frey, Njörd, Frigg and Freyja. The process of choice is as arbitrary in mythology as in other sciences. Again, it is more likely that the original version of the legend should have survived in Iceland than in Denmark, which, being on the mainland, was earlier subject to Christian and Romantic influences; and that a heathen God should, in the two or three centuries following the establishment of Christianity in the North, be turned into a mortal hero, than that the reverse process should have acted at a sufficiently late date to permit of both versions existing side by side in the thirteenth century. A similar gradual elimination of the supernatural may be found in the history of the Volsung myth. Snorri's version is merely an amplification of that in the Elder Edda, which, scanty as its account of Baldr is, leaves no doubt as to his divinity. The outline gathered from the poems is as follows: Baldr, Odin's son, is killed by his brother Höd through a mistletoe spray; Loki is in some way concerned in his death, which is an overwhelming misfortune to the Gods; but it is on Höd that his death is avenged. He is burnt on a pyre (Snorri says on his ship, a feature which must come from the Viking age; _Hyndluljod_ substitutes howe-burial). He will be absent from the great fight at Ragnarök, but _Völuspa_ adds that he will return afterwards. Nanna has nothing to do with the story. The connexion with the hierarchy of the Aesir seems external only, since Baldr has no apparent relation to the great catastrophe as have Odin, Thor, Frej, Tyr and Loki; this, then, would point to the independence of his myth. The genuineness of the myth seems to depend on whether the mistletoe is an original feature of it or not, and on this point there can be little real doubt. The German theory that Baldr could only be killed by his own sword, which was therefore disguised by enchantment and used against him, and that the Icelandic writers misunderstood this to mean a mistletoe sprig, is far-fetched and romantic, and crumbles at a touch. For if, as it is claimed, the Icelanders had no mistletoe, why should they introduce it into a story to which it did not belong? They might preserve it by tradition, but they would hardly invent it. Granting this, the mistletoe becomes the central point of the legend. The older mythologists, who only saw in it a sun-myth, overlooked the fact that since any weapon would have done to kill the God with, the mistletoe must have some special significance; and if it is a genuine part of the story, as we have no reason to doubt, it will be hard to overturn Dr. Frazer's theory that the Baldr-myth is a relic of tree-worship and the ritual sacrifice of the God, Baldr being a tree-spirit whose soul is contained in the mistletoe. The contradictions in the story, especially as told by Snorri (such as the confusion between the parts played by Höd and Loki, and the unsuspicious attitude of the Gods as Loki directs Höd's aim) are sometimes urged against its genuineness. They are rather proofs of antiquity. Apparent contradictions whose explanation is forgotten often survive in tradition; the inventor of a new story takes care to make it consistent. It is probable, however, that there were originally only two actors in the episode, the victim and the slayer, and that Loki's part is later than Höd's, for he really belongs to the Valhall and Ragnarök myth, and was only introduced here as a link. The incident of the oath extracted from everything on earth to protect Baldr, which occurs in Snorri and in a paper MS. of _Baldr's Dreams_, was probably invented to explain the choice of weapon, which would certainly need explanation to an Icelandic audience. If Dr. Frazer's theory be right, Vali, who slew the slayer, must also have been an original figure in the legend. His antiquity is supported by the fact that he plays the part of avenger in the poems; while in Snorri, where he is mentioned as a God, his absence from the account of Baldr's death is only a part of that literary development by which real responsibility for the murder was transferred from Höd to Loki. Snorri gives Baldr a son, Forseti (Judge), who is also named as a God in _Grimnismal_. He must have grown out of an epithet of Baldr's, of whom Snorri says that "no one can resist his sentence"; the sacred tree would naturally be the seat of judgment. * * * * * _The Wanes._--Three of the Norse divinities, Njörd and his son and daughter, are not Aesir by descent. The following account is given of their presence in Asgard: (1) In _Vafthrudnismal_, Odin asks: "Whence came Njörd among the sons of the Aesir? for he was not born of the Aesir." _Vafthrudni_. "In Vanaheim wise powers ordained and gave him for a hostage to the Gods; at the doom of the world he shall come back, home to the wise Wanes." (2) There is an allusion in _Völuspa_ to the war which caused the giving of hostages: "Odin shot into the host: this was the first war in the world. Broken was the wall of the citadel of the Aesir, so that the Wanes could tread the fields of war." (3) Loki taunts Njörd with his position, in _Lokasenna_: "Thou wast sent from the east as a hostage to the Gods...." _Njörd_. "This is my comfort, though I was sent from far as a hostage to the Gods, yet I have a son whom no one hates, and he is thought the best of the Aesir." _Loki_. "Stay, Njörd, restrain thy pride; I will hide it no longer: thy son is thine own sister's son, and that is no worse than one would expect." _Tyr_. "Frey is the best of all the bold riders of Asgard." There is little doubt that Njörd was once a God of higher importance than he is in the Edda, where he is overshadowed by his son. Grimm's suggestion that he and the goddess Nerthus, mentioned by Tacitus, were brother and sister, is supported by the line in _Lokasenna_; it is an isolated reference, and the Goddess has left no other traces in Scandinavian mythology. They were the deities, probably agricultural, of an earlier age, whose adoption by the later Northmen was explained by the story of the compact between Aesir and Vanir. Then their places were usurped by Frey and Freyja, who were possibly created out of epithets originally applied to the older pair; Njörd was retained with lessened importance, Nerthus passed out altogether. The Edda gives Njörd a giant-bride, Skadi, who was admitted among the Gods in atonement for the slaying of her father Thiazi; she is little more than a name. Frey and Freyja have other marks of agricultural deities, besides their relationship. Nothing is said about Frey's changing shape, but Freyja possesses a hawk-dress which Loki borrows when he wishes to change his form; and, according to Snorri, Frey was sacrificed to for the crops. Njörd has an epithet, "the wealthy," which may have survived from his earlier connexion with the soil. In that case, it would explain why, in Snorri and elsewhere, he is God of the sea and ships, once the province of the ocean-goddess Gefion; the transference is a natural one to an age whose wealth came from the sea. In spite of their origin, Frey and Freyja become to all intents and purposes Aesir. Frey is to be one of the chief combatants at Ragnarök, with the fire-giant Surt for his antagonist, and a story is told to explain his defeat: he fell in love with Gerd, a giant-maid, and sacrificed his sword to get her; hence he is weaponless at the last fight. Loki alludes to this episode in _Lokasenna_: "With gold didst thou buy Gymi's daughter, and gavest thy sword for her; but when Muspell's sons ride over Myrkwood, thou shalt not know with what to fight, unhappy one." The story is told in full in _Skirnisför_. Freyja is called by Snorri "the chief Goddess after Frigg," and the two are sometimes confused. Like her father and brother, she comes into connexion with the giants; she is the beautiful Goddess, and coveted by them. _Völuspa_ says that the Gods went into consultation to discuss "who had given the bride of Od (_i.e._, Freyja) to the giant race"; _Thrymskvida_ relates how the giant Thrym bargained for Freyja as the ransom for Thor's hammer, which he had hidden, and how Loki and Thor outwitted him; and Snorri says the giants bargained for her as the price for building Valhalla, but were outwitted. Sir G.W. Dasent notices in the folk-tales the eagerness of trolls and giants to learn the details of the agricultural processes, and this is probably the clue to the desire of the Frost-Giants in the Edda for the possession of Freyja. Idunn, the wife of Bragi, and a purely Norse creation, seems to be a double of Freyja; she, too, according to Snorri, is carried away by the giants and rescued by Loki. The golden apples which she is to keep till Ragnarök remind us of those which Frey offered to Gerd; and the gift of eternal youth, of which they are the symbols, would be appropriate enough to Freyja as an agricultural deity. The great necklace Brising, stolen by Loki and won back in fight by Heimdal (according to the tenth-century Skalds Thjodulf and Ulf Uggason), is Freyja's property. On this ground, she has been identified with the heroine of _Svipdag and Menglad_, a poem undoubtedly old, though it has only come down in paper MSS. It is in two parts, the first telling how Svipdag aroused the Sibyl Groa, his mother, to give him spells to guard him on his journey; the second describing his crossing the wall of fire which surrounded his fated bride Menglad. If Menglad is really Freyja, the "Necklace-glad," it is a curious coincidence that one poem connects the waverlowe, or ring of fire, with Frey also; for his bride Gerd is protected in the same way, though his servant Skirni goes through it in his place: _Skirni_. "Give me the horse that will bear me through the dark magic waverlowe, and the sword that fights of itself against the giant-race." _Frey_. "I give thee the horse that will bear thee through the dark magic waverlowe, and the sword that will fight of itself if he is bold who bears it." (_Skirnisför_.) The connexion of both with the Midsummer fires, originally part of an agricultural ritual, can hardly be doubted. * * * * * _Loki_, or Lopt, is a strange figure. He is admitted among the Aesir, though not one of them by birth, and his whole relation to them points to his being an older elemental God. He is in alliance with them against the giants; he and Odin have sworn blood-brothership, according to _Lokasenna_, and he helps Thor to recover his hammer that Asgard may be defended against the giants. On the other hand, while in present alliance with the Gods, he is chief agent in their future destruction, and this they know. In Snorri, he is a mischievous spirit of the fairy-tale kind, exercising his ingenuity alternately in getting the Gods into difficulties, and in getting them out again. So he betrays Idunn to the giants, and delivers her; he makes the bargain by which Freyja is promised to the giant-builders of Valhalla, and invents the trick by which they are cheated of their prize; by killing the otter he endangers his own head, Odin's and Hoeni's, and he obtains the gold which buys their atonement. Hence, in the systematising of the Viking religion, the responsibility for Baldr's death also was transferred to him. At the coming of the fire-giants at Ragnarök, he is to steer the ship in which Muspell's sons sail (_Völuspa_), further evidence of his identity as a fire-spirit. Like his son the Wolf, he is chained by the Gods; the episode is related in a prose-piece affixed to _Lokasenna_: "After that Loki hid himself in Franangr's Foss in the form of a salmon. There the Aesir caught him. He was bound with the guts of his son Nari, but his son Narfi was changed into a wolf. Skadi took a poisonous snake and fastened it up over Loki's face, and the poison dropped down. Sigyn, Loki's wife, sat there and held a cup under the poison. But when it was full she poured the poison away, and meanwhile poison dropped on Loki, and he struggled so hard that all the earth shook; those are called earthquakes now." _Völuspa_ inserts lines corresponding to this passage after the Baldr episode, and Snorri makes it a consequence of Loki's share in that event. He is more especially agent of the doom through his children: at Ragnarök, Fenri the Wolf, bound long before by Tyr's help, will be freed, and swallow the sun (_Vafthrudnismal_) and Odin (_Vafthrudnismal_ and _Völuspa_); and Jörmungandr, the Giant-Snake, will rise from the sea where he lies curled round the world, to slay and be slain by Thor. The dragon's writhing in the waves is one of the tokens to herald Ragnarök, and his battle with Thor is the fiercest combat of that day. Only _Völuspa_ of our poems gives any account of it: "Then comes the glorious son of Hlodyn, Odin's son goes to meet the serpent; Midgard's guardian slays him in his rage, but scarcely can Earth's son reel back nine feet from the dragon." When Thor goes fishing with the giant Hymi, he terrifies his companion by dragging the snake's head out of the sea, but he does not slay it; it must wait there till Ragnarök: "The protector of men, the only slayer of the Serpent, baited his hook with the ox's head. The God-hated one who girds all lands from below swallowed the bait. Doughtily pulled mighty Thor the poison-streaked serpent up to the side; he struck down with his hammer the hideous head of the wolf's companion. The monster roared, the wilderness resounded, the old earth shuddered all through. The fish sank back into the sea. Gloomy was the giant when they rowed back, so that he spoke not a word." There is nothing to suggest that Jörmungandr, to whom the word World-Snake (Midgardsorm) always refers in the Edda, is the same as Nidhögg, the serpent that gnaws at Yggdrasil's roots; but both are relics of Snake-worship. * * * * * _The World-Ash_, generally called Yggdrasil's Ash, is one of the most interesting survivals of tree-worship. It is described by the Sibyl in _Völuspa_: "I know an ash called Yggdrasil, a high tree sprinkled with white moisture (thence come the dews that fall in the dales): it stands ever-green by Urd's spring. Thence come three maids, all-knowing, from the hall that stands under the tree"; and as a sign of the approaching doom she says: "Yggdrasil's ash trembles as it stands; the old tree groans." _Grimnismal_ says that the Gods go every day to hold judgment by the ash, and describes it further: "Three roots lie three ways under Yggdrasil's ash: Hel dwells under one, the frost-giants under the second, mortal men under the third. The squirrel is called Ratatosk who shall run over Yggdrasil's ash; he shall carry down the eagle's words, and tell them to Nidhögg below. There are four harts, with necks thrown back, who gnaw off the shoots.... More serpents lie under Yggdrasil's ash than any one knows. Ofni and Svafni I know will ever gnaw at the tree's twigs. Yggdrasil's ash suffers more hardships than men know: the hart bites above, the side decays, and Nidhögg gnaws below.... Yggdrasil's ash is the best of trees." The snake and the tree are familiar in other mythologies, though in most other cases the snake is the protector, while here he is the destroyer. Both Nidhögg and Jörmungandr are examples of the destroying dragon rather than the treasure-guardian. The Ash is the oracle: the judgment-place of the Gods, the dwelling of the Fates, the source of the spring of knowledge. * * * * * _Ragnarök_.--The Twilight of the Gods (or Doom of the Gods) is the central point of the Viking religion. The Regin (of which _Ragna_ is genitive plural) are the ruling powers, often called Ginnregin (the great Gods), Uppregin (the high Gods), Thrymregin (the warrior Gods). The word is commonly used of the Aesir in _Völuspa_; in _Alvissmal_ the Regin seem to be distinguished from both Aesir and Vanir. The whole story of the Aesir is overshadowed by knowledge of this coming doom, the time when they shall meet foes more terrible than the giants, and fall before them; their constant effort is to learn what will happen then, and to gather their forces together to meet it. The coming Ragnarök is the reason for the existence of Valhalla with its hosts of slain warriors; and of all the Gods, Odin, Thor, Tyr and Loki are most closely connected with it. Two poems of the verse Edda describe it: (1) _Vafthrudnismal_: V. "What is the plain called where Surt and the blessed Gods shall meet in battle?" O. "Vigrid is the name of the place where Surt and the blessed Gods shall meet in battle. It is a hundred miles every way; it is their destined battle-field." * * * * * O. "Whence shall the sun come on the smooth heaven when Fenri has destroyed this one?" V. "Before Fenri destroy her, the elf-beam shall bear a daughter: that maid shall ride along her mother's paths, when the Gods perish." O. "Which of the Aesir shall rule over the realms of the Gods, when Surt's fire is quenched?" V. "Vidar and Vali shall dwell in the sanctuary of the Gods when Surt's fire is quenched. Modi and Magni shall have Mjöllni at the end of Vingni's (_i.e._, Thor's) combat." O. "What shall be Odin's end, when the Gods perish?" V. "The Wolf will swallow the father of men; Vidar will avenge it. He will cleave the Wolf's cold jaws in the battle." (2) _Völuspa_: "A hag sits eastward in Ironwood and rears Fenri's children; one of them all, in troll's shape, shall be the sun's destroyer. He shall feed on the lives of death-doomed men; with red blood he shall redden the seat of the Gods. The sunshine shall grow black, all winds will be unfriendly in the after-summers.... I see further in the future the great Ragnarök of the Gods of Victory.... Heimdal blows loudly, the horn is on high; Yggdrasil's ash trembles as it stands, the old tree groans." The following lines tell of the fire-giants and the various combats, and the last section of the poem deals with a new world when Baldr, Höd and Hoeni are to come back to the dwelling-place of the Gods. The whole points to a belief in the early destruction of the world and the passing away of the old order of things. Whether the new world which _Vafthrudnismal_ and _Völuspa_ both prophesy belongs to the original idea or not is a disputed point. Probably it does not; at all events, none of the old Aesir, according to the poems, are to survive, for Modi and Magni are not really Gods at all, Baldr, Höd and Vali belong to another myth, Hoeni had passed out of the hierarchy by his exchange with Njörd, and Vidar's origin is obscure. * * * * * _The Einherjar_, the great champions or chosen warriors, are intimately connected with Ragnarök. All warriors who fall in battle are taken to Odin's hall of the slain, Valhalla. According to _Grimnismal_, he "chooses every day men dead by the sword"; his Valkyries ride to battle to give the victory and bring in the fallen. Hence Odin is the giver of victory. Loki in _Lokasenna_ taunts him with giving victory to the wrong side: "Thou hast never known how to decide the battle among men. Thou hast often given victory to those to whom thou shouldst not give it, to the more cowardly"; this, no doubt, was in order to secure the best fighters for Valhalla. That the defeated side sometimes consoled themselves with this explanation of a notable warrior's fall is proved by the tenth-century dirge on Eirik Bloodaxe, where Sigmund the Volsung asks in Valhalla: "Why didst thou take the victory from him, if thou thoughtest him brave?" and Odin replies: "Because it is uncertain when the grey Wolf will come to the seat of the Gods." There are similar lines in Eyvind's dirge on Hakon the Good. In this way a host was collected ready for Ragnarök: for _Grimnismal_ says: "There are five hundred doors and eighty in Valhalla; eight hundred Einherjar will go out from each door, when they go to fight the wolf." Meanwhile they fight and feast: "All the Einherjar in Odin's courts fight every day: they choose the slain and ride from the battle, and sit then in peace together" (_Vafthrudnismal_,) and the Valkyries bear ale to them _(Grimnismal_). It is often too hastily assumed that the Norse Ragnarök with the dependant Valhalla system are in great part the outcome of Christian influence: of an imitation of the Christian Judgment Day and the Christian heaven respectively. Owing to the lateness of our material, it is, of course, impossible to decide how old the beliefs may be, but it is likely that the Valhalla idea only took form at the systematising of the mythology in the Viking age. The belief in another world for the dead is, however, by no means exclusively Christian, and a reference in _Grimnismal_ suggests the older system out of which, under the influence of the Ragnarök idea, Valhalla was developed. The lines, "The ninth hall is Folkvang, where Freyja rules the ordering of seats in the hall; half the slain she chooses every day, Odin has the other half," are an evident survival of a belief that all the dead went to live with the Gods, Odin having the men, and Freyja (or more probably Frigg) the women; the idea being here confused with the later system, under which only those who fell in battle were chosen by the Gods. Christian colouring appears in the last lines of _Völuspa_ and in Snorri, where men are divided into the "good and moral," who go after death to a hall of red gold, and the "perjurers and murderers," who are sent to a hall of snakes. For Ragnarök also a heathen origin is at least as probable as a Christian one. I would suggest as a possibility that the expectation of the Twilight of the Gods may have grown out of some ritual connected with the eclipse, such as is frequent among heathen races. Such ceremonies are a tacit acknowledgment of a doubt, and if they ever existed among the Scandinavians, the possibility, ever present to the savage mind, of a time when his efforts to help the light might be fruitless, and the darkness prove the stronger, would be the germ of his more civilised descendant's belief in Ragnarök. By turning to the surviving poems of the Skalds, whose dates can be approximately reckoned from the sagas, we can fix an inferior limit for certain of the legends given above, placing them definitely in the heathen time. Reference has already been made to the corroboration of the Valhalla belief supplied by the elegies on Eirik Bloodaxe and Hakon the Good. In the former (which is anonymous, but must have been written soon after 950, since it was composed, on Eirik's death, by his wife's orders), Odin commands the Einherjar and Valkyries to prepare for the reception of the slain Eirik and his host, since no one knows how soon the Gods will need to gather their forces together for the great contest. Eyvind's dirge on Hakon (who fell in 970) is an imitation of this: Odin sends two Valkyries to choose a king to enter his service in Valhalla; they find Hakon on the battle-field, and he is slain with many of his followers. Great preparation is made in Valhalla for his reception, and the poet ends by congratulating Hakon (who, though a Christian, having been educated in England, had not interfered with the heathen altars and sacrifices) on the toleration which has secured him such a welcome. A still earlier poet, Hornklofi, writing during the reign of Harald Fairhair (who died in 933), alludes to the slain as the property of "the one-eyed husband of Frigg." Several Skalds mention legends of Thor: his fishing for the World-Snake is told by Bragi (who from his place in genealogies must have written before 900), and by Ulf Uggason and Eystein Valdason, both in the second half of the tenth century; and Thjodulf and Eilif (the former about 960, the latter a little later) tell tales of his fights with the giants. Turning to the other Gods, Egil Skallagrimsson (about 970) names Frey and Njörd as the givers of wealth; Bragi tells the story of Gefion's dragging the island of Zealand out of Lake Wener into the sea; and Ulf Uggason speaks of Heimdal's wrestling with Loki. The legend of Idunn is told by Thjodulf much as Snorri tells it: Odin, Hoeni and Loki, while on a journey, kill and roast an ox. The giant Thiazi swoops down in eagle's shape and demands a share; Loki strikes the eagle, who flies off with him, releasing him only on condition that he will betray to the giants Idunn, "the care-healing maid who understands the renewal of youth." He does so, and the Gods, who grow old and withered for want of her apples, force him to go and bring her back to Asgard. The poet of _Eiriksmal_, quoted above, alludes to the Baldr myth: Bragi, hearing the approach of Eirik and his host, asks "What is that thundering and tramping, as if Baldr were coming back to Odin's hall?" The funeral pyre of Baldr is described by Ulf Uggason: he is burnt on his ship, which is launched by a giantess, in the presence of Frey, Heimdal, Odin and the Valkyries. Though heathen writers outside of Scandinavia are lacking, references to Germanic heathendom fortunately survive in several Continental Christian historians of earlier date than any of our Scandinavian sources. The evidence of these, though scanty, is corroborative, and the allusions are in striking agreement with the Edda stories in tone and character. Odin (Wodanus) is always identified by these writers with the Roman Mercurius (whom Tacitus named as the chief German God). This identification occurs in the eighth-century Paulus Diaconus, and in Jonas of Bobbio (first half of the seventh century), and probably rests on Odin's character as a wandering God (Mercury being diaktoros), his disguises, and his patronage of poetry and eloquence (as Mercury is logios). Odin is not himself in general the conductor of dead souls (psychopompos), like the Roman God, his attendant Valkyries performing the office for him. The equation is only comprehensible on the presumption of the independence of Germanic mythology, and cannot be explained by transmission. For if Odin were in any degree an imitation of the Roman deity, other notable attributes of the latter would have been assigned to him: whereas in the Edda the thieving God (kleptis) is not Odin but Loki, and the founder of civilisation is Heimdal. The legend of the origin of the Lombards given by Paulus Diaconus illustrates the relations of Odin and Frigg. The Vandals asked Wodan (Odin) to grant them victory over the Vinili; the latter made a similar prayer to Frea (Frigg), the wife of Wodan. She advised them to make their wives tie their hair round their faces like beards, and go with them to meet Wodan in the morning. They did so, and Wodan exclaimed, "Who are these _Long-beards_?" Then Frea said that having given the Vinili a name, he must give them the victory (as Helgi in the Edda claims a gift from Svava when she names him). As in _Grimnismal_, Odin and Frigg are represented as supporting rival claims, and Frigg gains the day for her favourites by superior cunning. This legend also shows Odin as the giver of victory. Few heathen legends are told however by these early Christian writers, and the Gods are seldom called by their German names. An exception is the Frisian Fosite mentioned by Alcuin (who died 804) and by later writers; he is to be identified with the Norse Forseti, the son of (probably at first an epithet of) Baldr, but no legend of him is told. It is disappointing that these writers should have said so little of any God except the chief one. A very characteristic touch survives in Gregory of Tours (died 594), when the Frank Chlodvig tells his Christian wife that the Christian God "cannot be proved to be of the race of the Gods," an idea entirely in keeping with the Eddic hierarchy. Before leaving the Continental historians, reference may be made to the abundant evidence of Germanic tree-worship to be gathered from them. The holy oak mentioned by Wilibald (before 786), the sacred pear-tree of Constantius (473), with numerous others, supply parallels to the World-Ash which is so important a feature of Norse mythology. A study of this subject would be incomplete without some reference to the mythology of Saxo Grammaticus. His testimony on the old religion is unwilling, and his effort to discredit it very evident. The bitterness of his attack on Frigg especially suggests that she was, among the Northmen, a formidable rival to the Virgin. When he repeats a legend of the Gods, he transforms them into mortal heroes, and when, as often happens, he refers to them accidentally as Gods, he invariably hastens to protest that he does so only because it had been the custom. He describes Thor and Odin as men versed in sorcery who claimed the rank of Gods; and in another passage he speaks of the latter as a king who had his seat at Upsala, and who was falsely credited with divinity throughout Europe. His description of Odin agrees with that in the Edda: an old man of great stature and mighty in battle, one-eyed, wearing a great cloak, and constantly wandering about in disguise. The story which Saxo tells of his driving into battle with Harald War-tooth, disguised as the latter's charioteer Brun, and turning the fight against him by revealing to his enemy Ring the order of battle which he had invented for Harald's advantage, is in thorough agreement with the traditional character of the God who betrayed Sigmund the Volsung and Helgi Hundingsbane. Saxo's version of the Baldr story has been mentioned already. Baldr's transformation into a hero (who could only be slain by a sword in the keeping of a wood-satyr) is almost complete. But Odin and Thor and all the Gods fight for him against his rival Hother, "so that it might be called a battle of Gods against men"; and Nanna's excuse to Baldr that "a God could not wed with a mortal," preserves a trace of his origin. The chained Loki appears in Saxo as Utgarda-Loki, lying bound in a cavern of snakes, and worshipped as a God by the Danish king Gorm Haraldsson. Dr. Eydberg sees the Freyja myth in Saxo's story of Syritha, who was carried away by the giants and delivered by her lover Othar (the Od of the Edda): an example, like _Svipdag and Menglad_, of the complete transformation of a divine into an heroic myth. In almost all cases Saxo vulgarises the stories in the telling, a common result when a mythical tale is retold by a Christian writer, though it is still more conspicuous in his versions of the heroic legends. Appendix _Thrymskvida_. 1. Then Wing-Thor was angry when he awoke, and missed his hammer. He shook his beard, he tossed his hair, the son of Earth groped about for it. 2. And first of all he spoke these words: "Hear now, Loki, what I tell thee, a thing that no one in earth or heaven above has heard: the Asa has been robbed of his hammer!" 3. They went to the dwelling of fair Freyja, and these words he spoke first of all: "Wilt thou lend me, Freyja, thy feather dress, to see if I can find my hammer?" 4. _Freyja_. "I would give it thee, though it were of gold; I would grant it, though it were of silver." 5. Then Loki flew, the feather-coat rustled, until he came out of Asgard and into Jötunheim. 6. Thrym, lord of the Giants, sat on a howe; he twisted golden bands for his greyhounds and trimmed his horses' manes. 7. _Thrym_. "How is it with the Aesir? How is it with the Elves? Why art thou come alone into Jötunheim?" _Loki_. "It is ill with the Aesir, it is ill with the Elves; hast thou hidden the Thunderer's hammer?" 8. _Thrym_. "I have hidden the Thunderer's hammer eight miles below the earth. No man shall bring it back, unless he bring me Freyja to wife." 9. Then Loki flew, the feather-coat rustled, until he came out of Jötunheim and into Asgard. Thor met him in the middle of the court, and these words he spoke first: 10. "Hast thou news in proportion to thy toil? Tell me from on high thy distant tidings, for a sitting man often breaks down in his story, and he who lies down falls into falsehood." 11. _Loki_. "I bring news for my toil: Thrym, lord of the Giants, has thy hammer; no man shall bring it back, unless he take him Freyja as a bride." 12. They went to see fair Freyja, spoke to her first of all these words: "Bind on the bridal veil, Freyja, we two must drive to Jötunheim." 13. Angry then was Freyja; she panted, so that all the hall of the Aesir trembled, and the great Brising necklace fell: "Eager indeed for marriage wouldst thou think me, if I should drive with thee to Jötunheim." 14. Then all the Aesir went into council, and all the Asynjor to consultation, and the mighty Gods discussed how they should recover the Thunderer's hammer. 15. Then spoke Heimdal, whitest of the Aesir; he could see into the future like the Vanir: "Let us bind on Thor the bridal veil; let him have the great necklace Brising. 16. "Let the keys jingle, and let women's weeds fall about his knees; let us put broad stones on his breast, and a hood dexterously on his head." 17. Then spoke Thor, the mighty Asa: "Vile would the Aesir call me, if I let the bridal veil be bound on me." 18. Then spoke Loki, Laufey's son: "Speak not such words, Thor! soon will the Giants dwell in Asgard, unless thou bring home thy hammer." 19. Then they bound on Thor the bridal veil, and the great necklace Brising; they let the keys jingle and women's weeds fall about his knees, and they put broad stones on his breast, and the hood dexterously on his head. 20. Then spoke Loki, Laufey's son: "I also will go with thee as thy maiden; we two will drive together to Jötunheim." 21. Then the goats were driven out, urged forward in their harness; well must they run. Rocks were riven, the earth burned in name: Odin's son was driving into Jötunheim. 22. Then spoke Thrym, lord of the Giants: "Stand up, giants, and strew the benches! They are bringing me now Freyja my bride, Njörd's daughter from Noatun. 23. "Gold-horned kine run in the court, oxen all-black, the giant's delight. I have many treasures, I have many jewels, Freyja only is lacking." 24. The guests assembled early in the evening, and ale was carried to the Giants. One ox did Sif's husband eat, and eight salmon, and all the dishes prepared for the women; three casks of mead he drank. 25. Then spoke Thrym, lord of the Giants: "Who ever saw a bride eat so eagerly? I never saw a bride make such a hearty meal, nor a maid drink so deep of mead." 26. The prudent handmaid sat near, and she found answer to the Giant's words: "Eight nights has Freyja eaten nothing, so eager was she to be in Jötunheim." 27. He looked under the veil, he longed to kiss the bride, but he started back the length of the hall: "Why are Freyja's eyes so terrible? Fire seems to burn from her eyes." 28. The prudent handmaid sat near, and she found answer to the Giant's speech: "Eight nights has Freyja had no sleep, so eager was she to be in Jötunheim." 29. In came the Giants' wretched sister, she dared to ask for a bridal gift: "Take from thine arms the red rings, if thou wouldst gain my love, my love and all my favour." 30. Then spoke Thrym, lord of the Giants: "Bring the hammer to hallow the bride. Lay Mjöllni on the maiden's knee, hallow us two in wedlock." 31. The Thunderer's heart laughed in his breast, when the bold of soul felt the hammer. Thrym killed he first, the lord of the Giants, and all the race of the Giants he struck. 32. He slew the Giants' aged sister, who had asked him for a bridal gift. She got a blow instead of shillings, and a stroke of the hammer for abundance of rings. So Odin's son got back his hammer. Bibliography I. Study in the Original. (1) _Poetic Edda_.--The classic edition, and on the whole the best, is Professor Bugge's (Christiania, 1867); the smaller editions of Hildebrand (_Die Lieder der Aelteren Edda_, Paderborn, 1876), and Finnur Jónsson (_Eddalieder_, Halle, 1888-90) are also good; the latter is in two parts, _Göttersage_ and _Heldensage_. The poems may also be found in the first volume of Vigfusson and Powell's _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_ (Oxford, 1883), accompanied by translations; but in many cases they are cut up and rearranged, and they suffer metrically from the system adopted of printing two short lines as one long one, with no dividing point. There is an excellent palaeographic edition of the _Codex Regius of the Elder Edda_, by Wimmer and Finnur Jónsson (Copenhagen, 1891), with photographic reproductions interleaved with a literal transcription. (2) _Snorra Edda_.--The most recent edition of the whole is Dr. Finnur Jónsson's (Copenhagen, 1875). There is a useful edition of the mythological portions _(i.e., Gylfaginning, Bragaraedur_, and the narrative parts of _Skaldskaparmal_) by Ernst Wilken (_Die Prosäische Edda_, Paderborn, 1878). (3) _Dictionaries and Grammars_.--For the study of the Poetic Edda, Gering's _Glossar zu den Liedern der Edda_ (Paderborn, 1896) will be found most useful; it is complete and trustworthy, and in small compass. A similar service has been performed for _Snorra Edda_ in Wilken's _Glossar_ (Paderborn, 1883), which forms a second volume to his edition, mentioned above. Both are, of course, in German. The only English dictionary is the lexicon of Cleasby and Vigfusson (Oxford). Of Grammars, the best are German; those of Noreen (_Altnordische Grammatik_, Halle, 1892), of which there is an abbreviated edition, and Kahle (_Altisländisches Elementarbuch_, Heidelberg, 1896) being better suited for advanced students; the English grammars included in Vigfusson and Powell's _Icelandic Reader_ (Oxford) and Sweet's _Icelandic Primer_ (Oxford) are more elementary, and therefore hardly adequate for the study of the verse literature. II. Translations. There are English translations of the Elder Edda by Anderson (Chicago, 1879) and Thorpe (1866), as well as the translations in the _Corpus Poeticum_, which are, of course, liable to the same objection as the text. The most accurate German translation is Gering's (Leipzig, 1893); in Simrock's (_Aeltere und Jüngere Edda_, Stuttgart, 1882), the translations of the verse Edda are based on an uncritical text. Snorra Edda was translated into English by Dasent (Stockholm, 1842); also by Anderson (Chicago, 1880). III. Modern Authorities. To the works on Northern mythology mentioned below in the note on the Baldr theories, must be added Dr. Rydberg's _Teutonic Mythology_ (English version by R.B. Anderson, London, 1889), which devotes special attention to Saxo. Notes _Home of the Edda_. (Page 2.) The chief apologists for the British theory are Professor Bugge (_Studien über die Entstehung der nordischen Götter- und Heldensagen_, München, 1889), and the editors of the _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_ (see the Introduction to that work, and also the Prolegomena prefixed to their edition of the _Sturlunga Saga_, Oxford). The case for Norway and Greenland is argued by Dr. Finnur Jónsson (_Den oldnorsk og oldislandske Literaturs-Historie,_ Copenhagen). The cases for both British and Norwegian origin are based chiefly on rather fanciful arguments from supposed local colour. The theory of the _Corpus Poeticum_ editors that many of the poems were composed in the Scottish isles is discredited by the absence of Gaelic words or traces of Gaelic legend. Professor Bugge's North of England theory is slightly stronger, being supported by several Old English expressions in the poems, but these are not enough to prove that they were composed in England, since most Icelanders travelled east at some time of their lives. (Page 3.) A later study will deal with the Heroic legends. _Ynglinga Saga_. (Page 3.) _Ynglinga Saga_ is prefixed to the Lives of the Kings in the collection known as _Heimskringla_ (edited by Unger, Christiania, 1868, and by Finnur Jónsson, Christiania, 1893); there is an English translation in Laing's _Lives of the Kings of Norway_ (London, 1889). _Völuspa_. (Page 4.) A poem of similar form occurs among the heroic poems. _Gripisspa_, a prophetic outline of Sigurd's life, introduces the Volsung poems, as _Völuspa_ does the Asgard cycle. _Riddle-poems_. (Page 6.) So many of the mythological poems are in this form that they suggest the question, did the asking of riddles form any part of Scandinavian ritual? _The Aesir_. (Page 11.) _Ynglinga Saga_ says that Odin and the Aesir came to Norway from Asia; a statement due, of course, to a false etymology, though theories as to the origin of Norse mythology have been based on it. _Tyr_. (Page 12.) Tyr is etymologically identical with Zeus, and with the Sanskrit Dyaus (Sky-God). _Baldr_. (Pages 16 to 22.) The Baldr theories are stated in the following authorities: (1) Ritual origin: Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, vol. 3. (2) Heroic origin: Golther, _Handbuch der Germanischen Mythologie_ (Leipzig, 1895); Niedner, _Eddische Fragen_ (_Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum_, new series, 29), _Zur Lieder-Edda_ (_Zeitschr. f. d. Alt_. vol. 36). (3) Solar myth: Sir G.W. Cox, _Mythology of the Aryan Nations_ (London, 1870); Max Müller, _Chips from a German Workshop_, vol. 4. (4) Borrowed: Bugge, _Studien über die Entstchung der nordischen Götter- und Heldensagen_ (transl. Brenner, München, 1889). _Vegtamskvida_. (Page 17.) The word _hrodhrbadhm_ (which I have given as "branch of fame") would perhaps be more accurately translated "tree of fame," which Gering explains as a kenning for Baldr. But there are no kennings of the same sort in the poem, and the line would have no meaning. If it refers to the mistletoe, as most commentators agree, it merely shows that the poet was ignorant of the nature of the plant, which would be in favour of its antiquity, rather than the reverse. _Saxo Grammaticus_. (Page 18.) English translation by Professor Elton (London, D. Nutt, 1894). As Saxo's references to the old Gods are made in much the same sympathetic tone as that adopted by Old Testament writers towards heathen deities, his testimony on mythological questions is of the less value. _The Mistletoe_. (Page 20.) It seems incredible that any writers should turn to the travesty of the Baldr story given in the almost worthless saga of Hromund Gripsson in support of a theory. In it "Bildr" is killed by Hromund, who has the sword Mistilteinn. It must be patent to any one that this is a perverted version of a story which the narrator no longer understood. _Loki_. (Page 26.) It is hardly necessary to point out the parallel between Loki and Prometheus, also both helper and enemy of the Gods, and agent in their threatened fall, though in the meantime a prisoner. In character Loki has more in common with the mischievous spirit described by Hesiod, than with the heroic figure of Aeschylus. The struggles of Loki (p. 28) find a parallel in those of the fire-serpent Typhon, to which the Greeks attributed earthquakes. _Eclipse Ritual_. (Page 35.) Mr. Lang, in _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, (London, 1887) gives examples of eclipse ritual. Grimm, in the _Teutonic Mythology_, vol. 2, quotes Finnish and Lithuanian myths about sun-devouring beasts, very similar to the Fenri myth. _The Skalds_. (Page 35.) All the Skaldic verses will be found, with translations, in the _Corpus Poeticum_. 
13008	----	Popular Studies in Mythology, Romance, and Folklore, No. 13 The Edda II The Heroic Mythology of the North By Winifred Faraday, M.A. Published by David Nutt, at the Sign of the Phoenix, Long Acre, London 1902 Author's Note The present study forms a sequel to No. 12 (_The Edda: Divine Mythology of the North_), to which the reader is referred for introductory matter and for the general Bibliography. Additional bibliographical references are given, as the need occurs, in the notes to the present number. Manchester, July 1902. The Edda: II. The Heroic Mythology of the North Sigemund the Waelsing and Fitela, Aetla, Eormanric the Goth and Gifica of Burgundy, Ongendtheow and Theodric, Heorrenda and the Heodenings, and Weland the Smith: all these heroes of Germanic legend were known to the writers of our earliest English literature. But in most cases the only evidence of this knowledge is a word, a name, here and there, with no hint of the story attached. For circumstances directed the poetical gifts of the Saxons in England towards legends of the saints and Biblical paraphrase, away from the native heroes of the race; while later events completed the exclusion of Germanic legend from our literature, by substituting French and Celtic romance. Nevertheless, these few brief references in _Beowulf_ and in the small group of heathen English relics give us the right to a peculiar interest in the hero-poems of the Edda. In studying these heroic poems, therefore, we are confronted by problems entirely different in character from those which have to be considered in connexion with the mythical texts. Those are in the main the product of one, the Northern, branch of the Germanic race, as we have seen (No. 12 of this series), and the chief question to be determined is whether they represent, however altered in form, a mythology common to all the Germans, and as such necessarily early; or whether they are in substance, as well as in form, a specific creation of the Scandinavians, and therefore late and secondary. The heroic poems of the Edda, on the contrary, with the exception of the Helgi cycle, have very close analogues in the literatures of the other great branches of the Germanic race, and these we are able to compare with the Northern versions. The Edda contains poems belonging to the following heroic cycles: (_a_) _Weland the Smith_.--Anglo-Saxon literature has several references to this cycle, which must have been a very popular one; and there is also a late Continental German version preserved in an Icelandic translation. But the poem in the Edda is the oldest connected form of the story. (_b_) _Sigurd and the Nibelungs_.--Again the oldest reference is in Anglo-Saxon. There are two well-known Continental German versions in the _Nibelungen Lied_ and the late Icelandic _Thidreks Saga_, but the Edda, on the whole, has preserved an earlier form of the legend. With it is loosely connected (_c_) _The Ermanric Cycle_.--The oldest references to this are in Latin and Anglo-Saxon. The Continental German version in the _Thidreks Saga_ is late, and, like that in the Edda, contaminated with the Sigurd story, with which it had originally nothing to do. (_d_) _Helgi_.--This cycle, at least in its present form, is peculiar to the Scandinavian North. All the above-named poems are contained in Codex Regius of the Elder Edda. From other sources we may add other poems which are Eddic, not Skaldic, in style, in which other heroic cycles are represented. The great majority of the poems deal with the favourite story of the Volsungs, which threatens to swamp all the rest; for one hero after another, Burgundian, Hun, Goth, was absorbed into it. The poems in this part of the MS. differ far more widely in date and style than do the mythological ones; many of the Volsung-lays are comparatively late, and lack the fine simplicity which characterises the older popular poetry. _Völund_.--The lay of Völund, the wonderful smith, the Weland of the Old English poems and the only Germanic hero who survived for any considerable time in English popular tradition, stands alone in its cycle, and is the first heroic poem in the MS. It is in a very fragmentary state, some of the deficiencies being supplied by short pieces of prose. There are two motives in the story: the Swan-maids, and the Vengeance of the Captive Smith. Three brothers, Slagfinn, Egil and Völund, sons of the Finnish King, while out hunting built themselves a house by the lake in Wolfsdale. There, early one morning, they saw three Valkyries spinning, their swancoats lying beside them. The brothers took them home; but after seven years the swan-maidens, wearied of their life, flew away to battle, and did not return. "Seven years they stayed there, but in the eighth longing seized them, and in the ninth need parted them." Egil and Slagfinn went to seek their wives, but Völund stayed where he was and worked at his forge. There Nithud, King of Sweden, took him captive: "Men went by night in studded mailcoats; their shields shone by the waning moon. They dismounted from the saddle at the hall-gable, and went in along the hall. They saw rings strung on bast which the hero owned, seven hundred in all; they took them off and put, them on again, all but one. The keen-eyed archer Völund came in from hunting, from a far road.... He sat on a bear-skin and counted his rings, and the prince of the elves missed one; he thought Hlodve's daughter, the fairy-maid, had come back. He sat so long that he fell asleep, and awoke powerless: heavy bonds were on his hands, and fetters clasped on his feet." They took him away and imprisoned him, ham-strung, on an island to forge treasures for his captors. Then Völund planned vengeance: "'I see on Nithud's girdle the sword which I knew keenest and best, and which I forged with all my skill. The glittering blade is taken from me for ever; I shall not see it borne to Völund's smithy. Now Bödvild wears my bride's red ring; I expect no atonement.' He sat and slept not, but struck with his hammer." Nithud's children came to see him in his smithy: the two boys he slew, and made drinking-cups for Nithud from their skulls; and the daughter Bödvild he beguiled, and having made himself wings he rose into the air and left her weeping for her lover and Nithud mourning his sons. In the Old English poems allusion is made only to the second part of the story; there is no reference to the legend of the enchanted brides, which is indeed distinct in origin, being identical with the common tale of the fairy wife who is obliged to return to animal shape through some breach of agreement by her mortal husband. This incident of the compact (_i.e._, to hide the swan-coat, to refrain from asking the wife's name, or whatever it may have been) has been lost in the Völund tale. The Continental version is told in the late Icelandic _Thidreks Saga_, where it is brought into connexion with the Volsung story; in this the story of the second brother, Egil the archer, is also given, and its antiquity is supported by the pictures on the Anglo-Saxon carved whale-bone box known as the Franks Casket, dated by Professor Napier at about 700 A.D. The adventures of the third brother, Slagfinn, have not survived. The Anglo-Saxon gives Völund and Bödvild a son, Widia or Wudga, the Wittich who appears as a follower of Dietrich's in the Continental German sources. _The Volsungs_.--No story better illustrates the growth of heroic legend than the Volsung cycle. It is composite, four or five mythical motives combining to form the nucleus; and as it took possession more and more strongly of the imagination of the early Germans, and still more of the Scandinavians, other heroic cycles were brought into dependence on it. None of the Eddic poems on the subject are quite equal in poetic value to the Helgi lays; many are fragmentary, several late, and only one attempts a review of the whole story. The outline is as follows: Sigurd the Volsung, son of Sigmund and brother of Sinfjötli, slays the dragon who guards the Nibelungs' hoard on the Glittering Heath, and thus inherits the curse which accompanies the treasure; he finds and wakens Brynhild the Valkyrie, lying in an enchanted sleep guarded by a ring of fire, loves her and plights troth with her; Grimhild, wife of the Burgundian Giuki, by enchantment causes him to forget the Valkyrie, to love her own daughter Gudrun, and, since he alone can cross the fire, to win Brynhild for her son Gunnar. After the marriage, Brynhild discovers the trick, and incites her husband and his brothers to kill Sigurd. The series begins with a prose piece on the Death of Sinfjötli, which says that after Sinfjötli, son of Sigmund, Volsung's son (which should be Valsi's son, Volsung being a tribal, not a personal, name), had been poisoned by his stepmother Borghild, Sigmund married Hjördis, Eylimi's daughter, had a son Sigurd, and fell in battle against the race of Hunding. Sigmund, as in all other Norse sources, is said to be king in Frankland, which, like the Niderlant of the _Nibelungen Lied_, means the low lands on the Rhine. The scene of the story is always near that river: Sigurd was slain by the Rhine, and the treasure of the Rhine is quoted as proverbial in the Völund lay. _Gripisspa_ (the Prophecy of Gripi), which follows, is appropriately placed first of the Volsung poems, since it gives a summary of the whole story. Sigurd rides to see his mother's brother, Gripi, the wisest of men, to ask about his destiny, and the soothsayer prophesies his adventures and early death. This poem makes clear some original features of the legend which are obscured elsewhere, especially in the Gudrun set; Grimhild's treachery, and Sigurd's unintentional breach of faith to Brynhild. In the speeches of both Gripi and Sigurd, the poet shows clearly that Brynhild had the first right to Sigurd's faith, while the seer repeatedly protests his innocence in breaking it: "Thou shalt never be blamed though thou didst betray the royal maid.... No better man shall come on earth beneath the sun than thou, Sigurd." On the other hand, the poet gives no indication that Brynhild and the sleeping Valkyrie are the same, which is a sign of confusion. Like all poems in this form, _Gripisspa_ is a late composition embodying earlier tradition. The other poems are mostly episodical, though arranged so as to form a continued narrative. _Gripisspa_ is followed by a compilation from two or more poems in different metres, generally divided into three parts in the editions: _Reginsmal_ gives the early history of the treasure and the dragon, and Sigurd's battle with Hunding's sons; _Fafnismal_, the slaying of the dragon and the advice of the talking birds; _Sigrdrifumal_, the awakening of the Valkyrie. Then follows a fragment on the death of Sigurd. All the rest, except the poem generally called the _Third_, or _Short, Sigurd Lay_ (which tells of the marriage with Gudrun and Sigurd's wooing of Brynhild for Gunnar) continue the story after Sigurd's death, taking up the death of Brynhild, Gudrun's mourning, and the fates of the other heroes who became connected with the legend of the treasure. In addition to the poems in the Elder Edda, an account of the story is given by Snorri in _Skaldskaparmal_, but it is founded almost entirely on the surviving lays. _Völsunga Saga_ is also a paraphrase, but more valuable, since parts of it are founded on lost poems, and it therefore, to some extent, represents independent tradition. It was, unfortunately from a literary point of view, compiled after the great saga-time was over, in the decadent fourteenth century, when material of all kinds, classical, biblical, romantic, mythological, was hastily cast into saga-form. It is not, like the _Nibelungen Lied_, a work of art, but it has what in this case is perhaps of greater importance, the one great virtue of fidelity. The compiler did not, like the author of the German masterpiece, boldly recast his material in the spirit of his own time; he clung closely to his originals, only trying with hesitating hand to copy the favourite literary form of the Icelander. As a saga, therefore, _Völsunga_ is far behind not only such great works as _Njala_, but also many of the smaller sagas. It lacks form, and is marred by inconsistencies; it is often careless in grammar and diction; it is full of traces of the decadent romantic age. Sigurd, in the true spirit of romance, is endowed with magic weapons and supernatural powers, which are no improvement on the heroic tradition, "Courage is better than a good sword." At every turn, Odin is at hand to help him, which tends to efface the older and truer picture of the hero with all the fates against him; such heroes, found again and again in the historic sagas, more truly represent the heathen heroic age and that belief in the selfishness and caprice of the Gods on which the whole idea of sacrifice rests. There is also the inevitable deterioration in the character of Brynhild, without the compensating elevation in that of her rival by which the _Nibelungen Lied_ places Chriemhild on a height as lofty and unapproachable as that occupied by the Norse Valkyrie; the Brynhild of _Völsunga Saga_ is something of a virago, the Gudrun is jealous and shrewish. But for actual material, the compiler is absolutely to be trusted; and _Völsunga Saga_ is therefore, in spite of artistic faults, a priceless treasure-house for the real features of the legend. There are two main elements in the Volsung story: the slaying of the dragon, and the awakening and desertion of Brynhild. The latter is brought into close connexion with the former, which becomes the real centre of the action. In the Anglo-Saxon reference, the fragment in _Beowulf_, the second episode does not appear. In this, the oldest version of the story, which, except for a vague reference to early feats by Sigmund and Sinfjötli, consists solely of the dragon adventure, the hero is not Sigurd, but Sigemund the Waelsing. All that it tells is that Sigemund, Fitela (Sinfjötli) not being with him, killed the dragon, the guardian of the hoard, and loaded a ship with the treasure. The few preceding lines only mention the war which Sigmund and Sinfjötli waged on their foes. They are there uncle and nephew, and there is no suggestion of the closer relationship assigned to them by _Völsunga Saga_, which tells their story in full. Sigmund, one of the ten sons of Volsung (who is himself of miraculous birth) and the Wishmaiden Hlod, is one of the chosen heroes of Odin. His twin-sister Signy is married against her will to Siggeir, an hereditary enemy, and at the wedding-feast Odin enters and thrusts a sword up to the hilt into the tree growing in the middle of the hall. All try to draw it, but only the chosen Sigmund succeeds. Siggeir, on returning to his own home with his unwilling bride, invites her father and brothers to a feast. Though suspecting treachery, they come, and are killed one after another, except Sigmund who is secretly saved by his sister and hidden in the wood. She meditates revenge, and as her two sons grow up to the age of ten, she tests their courage, and finding it wanting makes Sigmund kill both: the expected hero must be a Volsung through both parents. She therefore visits Sigmund in disguise, and her third son, Sinfjötli, is the child of the Volsung pair. At ten years old, she sends him to live in the wood with Sigmund, who only knows him as Signy's son. For years they live as wer-wolves in the wood, till the time comes for vengeance. They set fire to Siggeir's hall; and Signy, after revealing Sinfjötli's real parentage, goes back into the fire and dies there, her vengeance achieved: "I killed my children, because I thought them too weak to avenge our father; Sinfjötli has a warrior's might because he is both son's son and daughter's son to King Volsung. I have laboured to this end, that King Siggeir should meet his death; I have so toiled for the achieving of revenge that I am now on no condition fit for life. As I lived by force with King Siggeir, of free will shall I die with him." Though no poem survives on this subject, the story is certainly primitive; its savage character vouches for its antiquity. _Völsunga_ then reproduces the substance of the prose _Death of Sinfjötli_ mentioned above, the object of which, as a part of the cycle, seems to be to remove Sinfjötli and leave the field clear for Sigurd. It preserves a touch which may be original in Sinfjötli's burial, which resembles that of Scyld in _Beowulf_: his father lays him in a boat steered by an old man, which immediately disappears. Sigmund and Sinfjötli are always close comrades, "need-companions" as the Anglo-Saxon calls them. They are indivisible and form one story. Sigurd, on the other hand, is only born after his father Sigmund's death. _Völsunga_ says that Sigmund fell in battle against Hunding, through the interference of Odin, who, justifying Loki's taunt that he "knew not how to give the victory fairly," shattered with his spear the sword he had given to the Volsung. For this again we have to depend entirely on the prose, except for one line in _Hyndluljod_: "The Father of Hosts gives gold to his followers;... he gave Sigmund a sword." And from the poems too, Sigurd's fatherless childhood is only to be inferred from an isolated reference, where giving himself a false name he says to Fafni: "I came a motherless child; I have no father like the sons of men." Sigmund, dying, left the fragments of the sword to be given to his unborn son, and Sigurd's fosterfather Regin forged them anew for the future dragon-slayer. But Sigurd's first deed was to avenge on Hunding's race the death of his father and his mother's father. _Völsunga_ tells this story first of Helgi and Sinfjötli, then of Sigurd, to whom the poems also attribute the deed. It is followed by the dragon-slaying. Up to this point, the story of Sigurd consists roughly of the same features which mark that of Sigmund and Sinfjötli. Both are probably, like Helgi, versions of a race-hero myth. In each case there is the usual irregular birth, in different forms, both familiar; a third type, the miraculous or supernatural birth, is attributed by _Völsunga_ to Sigmund's father Volsung. Each story again includes a deed of vengeance, and a dragon and treasure. The sword which the hero alone could draw, and the wer-wolf, appear only in the Sigmund and Sinfjötli version. Among those Germanic races which brought the legend to full perfection, Sigurd's version soon became the sole one, and Sigmund and Sinfjötli practically drop out. The Dragon legend of the Edda is much fuller and more elaborate than that of any other mythology. As a rule tradition is satisfied with the existence of the monster "old and proud of his treasure," but here we are told its full previous history, certain features of which (such as the shape-shifting) are signs of antiquity, whether it was originally connected with the Volsungs or not. As usual, _Völsunga_ gives the fullest account, in the form of a story told by Regin to his foster-son Sigurd, to incite him to slay the dragon. Regin was one of three brothers, the sons of Hreidmar; one of the three, Otr, while in the water in otter's shape, was seen by three of the Aesir, Odin, Loki and Hoeni, and killed by Loki. Hreidmar demanded as wergild enough gold to fill the otter's skin, and Loki obtained it by catching the dwarf Andvari, who lived in a waterfall in the form of a fish, and allowing him to ransom his head by giving up his wealth. One ring the dwarf tried to keep back, but in vain; and thereupon he laid a curse upon it: that the ring with the rest of the gold should be the death of whoever should get possession of it. In giving the gold to Hreidmar, Odin also tried to keep back the ring, but had to give it up to cover the last hair. Then Fafni, one of the two remaining sons, killed his father, first victim of the curse, for the sake of the gold. He carried it away and lay guarding it in the shape of a snake. But Regin the smith did not give up his hopes of possessing the hoard: he adopted as his foster-son Sigurd the Volsung, thus getting into his power the hero fated to slay the dragon. The curse thus becomes the centre of the action, and the link between the two parts of the story, since it directly accounts for Sigurd's unconscious treachery and his separation from Brynhild, and absolves the hero from blame by making him a victim of fate. It destroys in turn Hreidmar, the Dragon, his brother Regin, the dragon-slayer himself, Brynhild (to whom he gave the ring), and the Giukings, who claimed inheritance after Sigurd's death. Later writers carried its effects still further. This narrative is also told in the pieces of prose interspersed through _Reginsmal_. The verse consists only of scraps of dialogue. The first of these comprises question and answer between Loki and the dwarf Andvari in the form of the old riddle-poems, and seems to result from the confusion of two ideas: the question-and-answer wager, and the captive's ransom by treasure. Then follows the curse, in less general terms than in the prose: "My gold shall be the death of two brothers, and cause strife among eight kings; no one shall rejoice in the possession of my treasure." Next comes a short dialogue between Loki and Hreidmar, in which the former warns his host of the risk he runs in taking the hoard. In the next fragment Hreidmar calls on his daughters to avenge him; Lyngheid replies that they cannot do so on their own brother, and her father bids her bear a daughter whose son may avenge him. This has given rise to a suggestion that Hjördis, Sigurd's mother, was daughter to Lyngheid, but if that is intended, it may only be due to the Norse passion for genealogy. The next fragment brings Regin and Sigurd together, and the smith takes the young Volsung for his foster-son. A speech of Sigurd's follows, in which he refuses to seek the treasure till he has avenged his father on Hunding's sons. The rest of the poem is concerned with the battle with Hunding's race, and Sigurd's meeting with Odin by the way. The fight with Fafni is not described in verse, very little of this poetry being in narrative form; but _Fafnismal_ gives a dialogue between the wounded dragon and his slayer. Fafni warns the Volsung against the hoard: "The ringing gold and the glowing treasure, the rings shall be thy death." Sigurd disregards the warning with the maxim "Every man must die some time," and asks questions of the dragon in the manner of _Vafthrudnismal_. Fafni, after repeating his warning, speaks of his brother's intended treachery: "Regin betrayed me, he will betray thee; he will be the death of both of us," and dies. Regin returning bids Sigurd roast Fafni's heart, while he sleeps. A prose-piece tells that Sigurd burnt his fingers by touching the heart, put them in his mouth, and understood the speech of birds. The advice given him by the birds is taken from two different poems, and partly repeats itself; the substance is a warning to Sigurd against the treachery plotted by Regin, and a counsel to prevent it by killing him, and so become sole owner of the hoard. Sigurd takes advantage of the warning: "Fate shall not be so strong that Regin shall give my death-sentence: both brothers shall go quickly hence to Hel." Regin's enjoyment of the hoard is therefore short. The second half of the story begins when one of the birds, after a reference to Gudrun, guides Sigurd to the sleeping Valkyrie: "Bind up the red rings, Sigurd; it is not kingly to fear. I know a maid, fairest of all, decked with gold, if thou couldst get her. Green roads lead to Giuki's, fate guides the wanderer forward. There a mighty king has a daughter; Sigurd will buy her with a dowry. There is a hall high on Hindarfell; all without it is swept with fire.... I know a battle-maid who sleeps on the fell, and the flame plays over her; Odin touched the maid with a thorn, because she laid low others than those he wished to fall. Thou shalt see, boy, the helmed maid who rode Vingskorni from the fight; Sigrdrifa's sleep cannot be broken, son of heroes, by the Norns' decrees." Sigrdrifa (dispenser of victory) is, of course, Brynhild; the name may have been originally an epithet of the Valkyrie, and it was probably such passages as this that misled the author of _Gripisspa_ into differentiating the Valkyrie and Brynhild. The last lines have been differently interpreted as a warning to Sigurd not to seek Brynhild and an attempt to incite him to do so by emphasising the difficulty of the deed; they may merely mean that her sleep cannot be broken except by one, namely, the one who knows no fear. Brynhild's supernatural origin is clearly shown here, and also in the prose in _Sigrdrifumal. Völsunga Saga_, though it paraphrases in full the passages relating to the magic sleep, removes much of the mystery surrounding her by providing her with a genealogy and family connections; while the _Nibelungen Lied_ goes further still in the same direction by leaving out the magic sleep. The change is a natural result of Christian ideas, to which Odin's Wishmaidens would become incomprehensible. Thus far the story is that of the release of the enchanted princess, popularly most familiar in the nursery tale of the Sleeping Beauty. After her broken questions to her deliverer, "What cut my mail? How have I broken from sleep? Who has flung from me the dark spells?" and his answer, "Sigmund's son and Sigurd's sword," she bursts into the famous "Greeting to the World": "Long have I slept, long was I sunk in sleep, long are men's misfortunes. It was Odin's doing that I could not break the runes of sleep. Hail, day! hail, sons of day! hail, night! Look on us two with gracious eyes, and give victory to us who sit here. Hail, Aesir! hail, Asynjor! hail, Earth, mother of all! give eloquence and wisdom to us the wonderful pair, and hands of healing while we live." She then becomes Sigurd's guardian and protectress and the source of his wisdom, as she speaks the runes and counsels which are to help him in all difficulties; and from this point corresponds to the maiden who is the hero's benefactress, but whom he deserts through sorcery: the "Mastermaid" of the fairy-tales, the Medeia of Greek myth. Gudrun is always an innocent instrument in drawing Sigurd away from his real bride, the actual agent being her witch-mother Grimhild. This part of the story is summarised in _Gripisspa_, except that the writer seems unaware that the Wishmaiden who teaches Sigurd "every mystery that men would know" and the princess he betrays are the same: "A king's daughter bright in mail sleeps on the fell; thou shalt hew with thy sharp sword, and cut the mail with Fafni's slayer.... She will teach thee every mystery that men would know, and to speak in every man's tongue.... Thou shalt visit Heimi's dwelling and be the great king's joyous guest.... There is a maid fair to see at Heimi's; men call her Brynhild, Budli's daughter, but the great king Heimi fosters the proud maid.... Heimi's fair foster-daughter will rob thee of all joy; thou shalt sleep no sleep, and judge no cause, and care for no man unless thou see the maiden. ... Ye shall swear all binding oaths but keep few when thou hast been one night Giuki's guest, thou shalt not remember Heimi's brave foster-daughter.... Thou shalt suffer treachery from another and pay the price of Grimhild's plots. The bright-haired lady will offer thee her daughter." _Völsunga_ gives additional details: Brynhild knows her deliverer to be Sigurd Sigmundsson and the slayer of Fafni, and they swear oaths to each other. The description of their second meeting, when he finds her among her maidens, and she prophesies that he will marry Giuki's daughter, and also the meeting between her and Gudrun before the latter's marriage, represent a later development of the story, inconsistent with the older conception of the Shield-maiden. Sigurd gives Brynhild the ring Andvaranaut, which belonged to the hoard, as a pledge, and takes it from her again later when he woos her in Gunnar's form. It is the sight of the ring afterwards on Gudrun's hand which reveals to her the deception; but the episode has also a deeper significance, since it brings her into connection with the central action by passing the curse on to her. According to Snorri's paraphrase, Sigurd gives the ring to Brynhild when he goes to her in Gunnar's form. For the rest of the story we must depend chiefly on _Gripisspa_ and _Völsunga_. The latter tells that Grimhild, the mother of the Giukings, gave Sigurd a magic drink by which he forgot Brynhild and fell in love with Giuki's daughter. Gudrun's brothers swore oaths of friendship with him, and he agreed to ride through the waverlowe, or ring of fire, disguised and win Brynhild for the eldest brother Gunnar. After the two bridals, he remembered his first passing through the flame, and his love for Brynhild returned. The Shield-maiden too remembered, but thinking that Gunnar had fairly won her, accepted her fate until Gudrun in spite and jealousy revealed the trick that had been played on her. Of the treachery of the Giukings Brynhild takes little heed; but death alone can pay for Sigurd's unconscious betrayal. She tells Gunnar that Sigurd has broken faith with him, and the Giukings with some reluctance murder their sister's husband. Brynhild springs on to the funeral pyre, and dies with Sigurd. _Völsunga_ makes the murder take place in Sigurd's chamber, and one poem, the _Short Sigurd Lay_, agrees. The fragment which follows _Sigrdrifumal_, on the other hand, places the scene in the open air: "Sigurd was slain south of the Rhine; a raven on a tree called aloud: 'On you will Atli redden the sword; your broken oaths shall destroy you.' Gudrun Giuki's daughter stood without, and these were the first words she spoke: 'Where is now Sigurd, the lord of men, that my kinsmen ride first?' Högni alone made answer: 'We have hewn Sigurd asunder with the sword; the grey horse still stoops over his dead lord.'" This agrees with the _Old Gudrun Lay_ and with the Continental German version, as a prose epilogue points out. Of the Giuking brothers, Gunnar appears only in a contemptible light: he gains his bride by treachery, and keeps his oath to Sigurd by a quibble. Högni, who has little but his name in common with Hagen von Tronje of the _Nibelungen Lied_, advises Gunnar against breaking his oath, but it is he who taunts Gudrun afterwards. The later poems of the cycle try to make heroes out of both; the same discrepancy exists between the first and second halves of the _Nibelungen Lied_. Their half-brother, Gutthorm, plays no part in the story except as the actual murderer of Sigurd. The chief effect of the influences of Christianity and Romance on the legend is a loss of sympathy with the heroic type of Brynhild, and an attempt to give more dignity to the figure of Gudrun. The Shield-maiden of divine origin and unearthly wisdom, with her unrelenting vengeance on her beloved, and her contempt for her slighter rival ("Fitter would it be for Gudrun to die with Sigurd, if she had a soul like mine"), is a figure out of harmony with the new religion, and beyond the comprehension of a time coloured by romance; while both the sentiment and the morality of the age would be on the side of Gudrun as the formally wedded wife. So the poem known as the _Short Sigurd Lay_, which has many marks of lateness, such as the elaborate description of the funeral pyre and the exaggeration of the signs of mourning, says nothing of Sigurd's love for Brynhild, nor do his last words to Gudrun give any hint of it. The _Nibelungen Lied_ suppresses Sigurd's love to Brynhild, and the magic drink, and altogether lowers Brynhild, but elevates Gudrun (under her mother's name); her slow but terrible vengeance, and absolute forgetfulness of the ties of blood in pursuit of it, are equal to anything in the original version. The later heroic poems of the Edda make a less successful attempt to create sympathy for Gudrun; some, such as the so-called _First Gudrun Lay_, which is entirely romantic in character, try to make her pathetic by the abundance of tears she sheds; others, to make her heroic, though the result is only a spurious savagery. The remaining poems of the cycle, all late in style and tone, deal with the fates of Gudrun and her brothers, and owe their existence to a narrator's unwillingness to let a favourite story end. The curse makes continuation easy, since the Giukings inherit it with the hoard. Gudrun was married at the wish of her kinsmen to Atli the Hun, said to be Brynhild's brother. He invited Gunnar and Högni to his court and killed them for the sake of the treasure, in vengeance for which Gudrun killed her own two sons and Atli; this latter incident being possibly an imitation of Signy. If we may believe that Gudrun, like Chriemhild in the _Nibelungen Lied_, married Atli in order to gain vengeance for Sigurd, we might suppose that there was confusion here: that she herself incited the murder of her brothers, and killed Atli when he had served his purpose. This would strengthen the part of Gudrun, who as the tale stands is rather a futile character. But in all probability the episode is due to a confusion of Signy's story with that of the German Chriemhild and Etzel. One point has still to be considered: the place of the Nibelungs in the story. In the Edda, the Hniflungs are always the Giukings, Gunnar and Högni, and Snorri gives it as the name of an heroic family. The title of the first _aventiure_ of the _Nibelungen Lied_ also apparently uses the word of the Burgundians. Yet the treasure is always the Nibelungs' hoard, which clearly means that they were the original owners; and when Hagen von Tronje tells the story later in the poem, he speaks of the Nibelungs correctly as the dwarfs from whom Siegfried won it. On this point, therefore, the German preserves the older tradition: the Norse Andvari, the river-dwarf, is the German Alberich the Nibelung. In the _Nibelungen Lied_ the winning of the treasure forms no part of the action: it is merely narrated by Hagen. This accounts for the shortening of the episode and the omission of the intermediate steps: the robbing of the dwarf, the curse, and the dragon-slaying. * * * * * _Ermanric.--_The two poems of _Gudrun's Lament_ and _Hamthismal_, in the Edda attached to the Volsung cycle, belong correctly to that of the Gothic hero Ermanric. According to these poems, Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, married a third time, and had three sons, Sörli, Hamthi and Erp. She married Svanhild, her own and Sigurd's daughter, to Jörmunrek, king of the Goths; but Svanhild was slandered, and her husband had her trodden to death by horses' hoofs. The description of Svanhild is a good example of the style of the romantic poems: "The bondmaids sat round Svanhild, dearest of my children; Svanhild was like a glorious sunbeam in my hall. I dowered her with gold and goodly fabrics when I married her into Gothland. That was the hardest of my griefs, when they trod Svanhild's fair hair into the dust beneath the horses' hoofs." Gudrun sent her three sons to avenge their sister; two of them slew Erp by the way, and were killed themselves in their attack on Jörmunrek for want of his help. So died, as Snorri says, all who were of Giuking descent; and only Aslaug, daughter of Sigurd and Brynhild, survived. _Heimskringla_, a thirteenth century history of the royal races of Scandinavia, traces the descent of the Norse kings from her. This Ermanric story, which belongs to legendary history rather than myth, is in reality quite independent of the Volsung or Nibelung cycle. The connection is loose and inartistic, the legend being probably linked to Gudrun's name because she had become a favourite character and Icelandic narrators were unwilling to let her die. The historic Ermanric was conquered by the Huns in 374; the sixth century historian Jornandes is the earliest authority for the tradition that he was murdered by Sarus and Ammius in revenge for their sister's death by wild horses. Saxo also tells the story, with greater similarity of names. It seems hardly necessary to assume, with many scholars, the existence of two heroes of the name Ermanric, an historic and a mythical one. A simpler explanation is that a legendary story became connected with the name of a real personage. The slaying of Erp introduces a common folk-tale incident, familiar in stories like the _Golden Bird_, told by both Asbjörnsen and Grimm. * * * * * _Helgi._--The Helgi-lays, three in number, are the best of the heroic poems. Nominally they tell two stories, Helgi Hjörvardsson being sandwiched between the two poems of Helgi Hundingsbane; but essentially the stories are the same. In _Helyi Hjörvardsson_, Helgi, son of Hjörvard and Sigrlinn, was dumb and nameless until a certain day when, while sitting on a howe, he saw a troop of nine Valkyries. The fairest, Svava, Eylimi's daughter, named him, and bidding him avenge his grandfather on Hrodmar (a former wooer of Sigrlinn's, and her father's slayer), sent him to find a magic sword. Helgi slew Hrodmar and married Svava, having escaped from the sea-giantess Hrimgerd through the protection of his Valkyrie bride and the wit of a faithful servant. His brother Hedin, through the spells of a troll-wife, swore to wed Helgi's bride. Repenting, he told his brother, who, dying in a fight with Hrodmar's son, charged Svava to marry Hedin. A note by the collector adds "Helgi and Svava are said to have been born again." In _Helgi Hundingsbane I_., Helgi is the son of Sigmund and Borghild. He fought and slew Hunding, and afterwards met in battle Hunding's sons at Logafell, where the Valkyrie Sigrun, Högni's daughter, protected him, and challenged him to fight Hödbrodd to whom her father had plighted her. She protected his ships in the storm which overtook them as they sailed to meet Hödbrodd, and watched over him in the battle, in which he slew his rival and was greeted as victor by Sigrun: "Hail, hero of Yngvi's race ... thou shalt have both the red rings and the mighty maid: thine are Högni's daughter and Hringstad, the victory and the land." _Helgi Hundingsbane II_., besides giving additional details of the hero's early life, completes the story. In the battle with Hödbrodd, Helgi killed all Sigrun's kinsmen except one brother, Dag, who slew him later in vengeance. But Helgi returned from the grave, awakened by Sigrun's weeping, and she went into the howe with him. The collector again adds a note: "Helgi and Sigrun are said to have been born again: he was then called Helgi Haddingjaskati, and she Kara Halfdan's daughter, as it is told in the Kara-ljod, and she was a Valkyrie." This third Helgi legend does not survive in verse, the _Kara-ljod_ having perished. It is told in prose in the late saga of Hromund Gripsson, according to which Kara was a Valkyrie and swan-maid: while she was hovering over Helgi, he killed her accidentally in swinging his sword. There can be little doubt that these three are merely variants of the same story; the foundation is the same, though incidents and names differ. The three Helgis are one hero, and the three versions of his legend probably come from different localities. The collector could not but feel their identity, and the similarity was too fundamental to be overlooked; he therefore accounted for it by the old idea of re-birth, and thus linked the three together. In each Helgi has an hereditary foe (Hrodmar, Hunding, or Hadding); in each his bride is a Valkyrie, who protects him and gives him victory; each ends in tragedy, though differently. The two variants in the Poetic Edda have evident marks of contamination with the Volsung cycle, and some points of superficial resemblance. Helgi Hjörvardsson's mother is Sigrlinn, Helgi Hundings-bane's father is Sigmund, as in the _Nibelungen Lied_ Siegfried is the son of Sigemunt and Sigelint. Helgi Hundingsbane is a Volsung and Wolfing (Ylfing), and brother to Sinfjötli; his first fight, like Sigurd's, is against the race of Hunding; his rival, Hödbrodd, is a Hniflung; he first meets the Valkyrie on Loga-fell (Flame-hill); he is killed by his brother-in-law, who has sworn friendship. But there is no parallel to the essential features of the Volsung cycle, and such likenesses between the two stories as are not accidental are due to the influence of the more favoured legend; this is especially true of the names. The prose-piece _Sinfjötli's Death_ also makes Helgi half-brother to Sinfjötli; it is followed in this by _Völsunga Saga_, which devotes a chapter to Helgi, paraphrasing _Helyi Hundingsbane I_. There is, of course, confusion over the Hunding episode; the saga is obliged to reconcile its conflicting authorities by making Helgi kill Hunding and some of his sons, and Sigurd kill the rest. If the theory stated below as to the original Helgi legend be correct, the feud with Hunding's race, as told in these poems, must be extraneous. I conjecture that it belonged originally to the Volsung cycle, and to the wer-wolf Sinfjötli. It must not be forgotten that, though he passes out of the Volsung story altogether in the later versions, both Scandinavian and German, he is in the main action in the earliest one (that in _Beowulf_), where even Sigurd does not appear. The feud might easily have been transferred from him to Helgi as well as to Sigurd, for invention is limited as regards episodes, and a narrator who wishes to elaborate the story of a favourite hero is often forced to borrow adventures. In the original story, Helgi's blood-feud was probably with the kindred of Sigrun or Svava. The origin of the Helgi legend must be sought outside of the Volsung cycle. Some writers are of opinion that the name should be Holgi, and there are two stories in which a hero Holgi appears. With the legend of Thorgerd Holgabrud, told by Saxo, who identified it with that of Helgi Hundingsbane, it has nothing in common; and the connection which has been sought with the legend of Holger Danske is equally difficult to establish. The essence of this latter story is the hero's disappearance into fairyland, and the expectation of his return sometime in the future: a motive which has been very fruitful in Irish romance, and in the traditions of Arthur, Tryggvason, and Barbarossa, among countless others. But it is absent from the Helgi poems; and the "old wives' tales" of Helgi's re-birth have nothing to do with his legend, but are merely a bookman's attempt to connect stories which he felt to be the same though different. The essential feature of the story told in these poems is the motive familiar in that class of ballads of which the _Douglas Tragedy_ is a type: the hero loves the daughter of his enemy's house, her kinsmen kill him, and she dies of grief. This is the story told in both the lays of _Helgi Hundingsbane_, complete in one, unfinished in the other. No single poem preserves all the incidents of the legend; some survive in one version, some in another, as usual in ballad literature. Like Sinfjötli and Sigurd, Helgi is brought up in obscurity. He spends his childhood disguised in his enemy's household, and on leaving it, sends a message to tell his foes whom they have fostered. They pursue him, and he is obliged, like Gude Wallace in the Scottish ballad, to disguise himself in a bondmaid's dress: "Piercing are the eyes of Hagal's bondmaid; it is no peasant's kin who stands at the mill: the stones are split, the bin springs in two. It is a hard fate for a warrior to grind the barley; the sword-hilt is better fitted for those hands than the mill-handle." Sigrun is present at the battle, in which, as in the English and Scottish ballads, Helgi slays all her kindred except one brother. He tells her the fortunes of the fight, and she chooses between lover and kinsmen: _Helgi_. "Good luck is not granted thee, maid, in all things, though the Norns are partly to blame. Bragi and Högni fell to-day at Frekastein, and I was their slayer;... most of thy kindred lie low. Thou couldst not hinder the battle: it was thy fate to be a cause of strife to heroes. Weep not, Sigrun, thou hast been Hild to us; heroes must meet their fate." _Sigrun_. "I could wish those alive who are fallen, and yet rest in thy arms." The surviving brother, Dag, swears oaths of reconciliation to Helgi, but remembers the feud. The end comes, as in the Norse Sigmund tale, through Odin's interference: he lends his spear to Dag, who stabs Helgi in a grove, and rides home to tell his sister. Sigrun is inconsolable, and curses the murderer with a rare power and directness: "May the oaths pierce thee that thou hast sworn to Helgi.... May the ship sail not that sails under thee, though a fair wind lie behind. May the horse run not that runs under thee, though thou art fleeing from thy foes. May the sword bite not that thou drawest, unless it sing round thine own head. If thou wert an outlaw in the woods, Helgi's death were avenged.... Never again while I live, by night or day, shall I sit happy at Sevafell, if I see not the light play on my hero's company, nor the gold-bitted War-breeze run thither with the warrior." But Helgi returns from the grave, unable to rest because of Sigrun's weeping, and she goes down into the howe with him: _Sigrun_. "Thy hair is covered with frost, Helgi; thou art drenched with deadly dew, thy hands are cold and wet. How shall I get thee help, my hero?" _Helgi_. "Thou alone hast caused it, Sigrun from Sevafell, that Helgi is drenched with deadly dew. Thou weepest bitter tears before thou goest to sleep, gold-decked, sunbright, Southern maid; each one falls on my breast, bloody, cold and wet, cruel, heavy with grief...." _Sigrun_. "I have made thee here a painless bed, Helgi, son of the Wolfings. I will sleep in thy arms, my warrior, as if thou wert alive." _Helgi_. "There shall be no stranger thing at Sevafell, early or late, than that thou, king-born, Högni's fair daughter, shouldst be alive in the grave and sleep in a dead man's arms." The lay of Helgi Hjörvardsson is furthest from the original, for there is no feud with Svava's kindred, nor does Helgi die at their hands; but it preserves a feature omitted elsewhere, in his leaving his bride to his brother's protection. Like the wife in the English ballad of _Earl Brand_, and the heroine of the Danish _Ribold and Guldborg_, Svava refuses, but Hedin's last words seem to imply that he is to return and marry her after avenging Helgi. This would be contrary to all parallels, according to which Svava should die with Helgi. The alternative ending of the _Helgi and Kara_ version is interesting as providing the possible source of another Scottish ballad dealing with the same type of story. In _The Cruel Knight_, as here, the hero slays his bride, who is of a hostile family, by mistake. One passage of _Helgi Hundingsbane II._ describes Helgi's entrance into Valhalla, which, taken with the incident of Sigrun's joining him in the howe, supplies an instance of the survival side by side of inconsistent notions as to the state of the dead. The lover's return from the grave is the subject of _Clerk Saunders_ (the second part) and several other Scottish ballads. _The Song of the Mill_.--The magic mill is best known in the folk-tale, "Why the sea is salt"; but this is not the oldest part of the story, though it took most hold of the popular imagination which loves legendary explanations of natural phenomena. The hero, Frodi, a mythical Danish king, is the northern Croesus. His reign was marked by a world-peace, and the peace, the wealth, the liberality of Frodi became proverbial. The motive of his tale is again the curse that follows gold. It is told by Snorri, in whose work _Grottasöngr_ is embodied. Frodi possessed two magic quern-stones, from which the grinder could grind out whatever he wished; but he had no one strong enough to turn them until he bought in Sweden two bondmaids of giant-race, Menja and Fenja. He set them to grind at the quern by day, and by night when all slept, and as they ground him gold, and peace, and prosperity, they sang: "We grind wealth for Frodi, all bliss we grind, and abundance of riches in the fortunate bin. May he sit on wealth, may he sleep on down, may he wake to delight; then the grinding were good. Here shall no man hurt another, prepare evil nor work death, nor hew with the keen sword though he find his brother's slayer bound." But when they wearied of their toil and asked for a little rest, Frodi answered: "Ye shall sleep no longer than the cuckoo is silent, or while I speak one stave." Then the giant-maids grew angry, and sang: "Thou wert not wise, Frodi, in buying thy bondmaids: thou didst choose us for our strength and size but asked not our race. Bold were Hrungni and his father, and mightier Thiazi; Idi and Orni were our ancestors, from them are we daughters of the mountain-giants sprung.... We maids wrought mighty deeds, we moved the mountains from their places, we rolled rocks over the court of the giants, so that the earth shook.... Now we are come to the king's house, meeting no mercy and held in bondage, mud beneath our feet and cold over our heads, we grind the Peace-maker. It is dreary at Frodi's." As they sang of their wrongs by night, their mood changed, and instead of grinding peace and wealth, they ground war, fire and sword: "Waken, Frodi! waken, Frodi! if thou wilt hear our songs.... I see fire burn at the east of the citadel, the voice of war awakes, the signal is given. A host will come hither in speed, and burn the hall over the king." So the bondmaids ground on in giant-wrath, while the sea-king Mysing sailed nearer with his host, until the quern-stones split; and then the daughters of the mountain-giants spoke once more: "We have ground to our pleasure, Frodi; we maids have stood long at the mill." A Norseman was rarely content to allow a fortunate ending to any hero, and a continuation of the story therefore makes the mill bring disaster on Mysing also. After slaying Frodi and burning his hall, he took the stones and the bondmaids on board his ship, and bade them grind salt. They ground till the weight sank the ship to the bottom of the sea, where the mill is grinding still. This is not in the song, though it has lived longer popularly than the earlier part. Dr. Rydberg identities Frodi with Frey, the God of fertility. _The Everlasting Battle_.--No Eddic poem survives on the battle of the Hjathnings, the story of which is told in prose by Snorri. It must, however, be an ancient legend; and the hero Hedin belongs to one of the old Germanic heroic races, for the minstrel Deor is a dependent of the Heodenings in the Old English poem to which reference will be made later. The legend is that Hild, daughter of Högni, was carried away by Hedin the Hjathning, Hjarrandi's son. Högni pursued, and overtook them near the Orkneys. Then Hild went to her father and offered atonement from Hedin, but said also that he was quite ready to fight, and Högni need expect no mercy. Högni answered shortly, and Hild returning told Hedin that her father would accept no atonement but bade him prepare to fight. Both kings landed on an island, followed by their men. Hedin called to Högni and offered atonement and much gold, but Högni said it was too late, his sword was already drawn. They fought till evening, and then returned to their ships; but Hild went on shore and woke up all the slain by sorcery, so that the battle began again next day just as before. Every day they fight, and every night the dead are recalled to life, and so it will go on till Ragnarök. In the German poem, _Gudrun_, the Continental version of this legend occurs in the story of the second Hilde. She is carried away by the minstrel Horant (who thus plays a more active part than the Norse Hjarrandi), as envoy from King Hettel, Hedin's German counterpart. Her father Hagen pursues, and after a battle with Hettel agrees to a reconciliation. The story is duplicated in the abduction of Hilde's daughter Gudrun, and the battle on the Wülpensand. Another reference may probably be supplied by the much debated lines 14-16 from the Anglo-Saxon _Deor_, of which the most satisfactory translation seems to be: "Many of us have heard of the harm of Hild; the Jute's loves were unbounded, so that the care of love took from him sleep altogether." Saxo, it is true, makes Hild's father a Jute, instead of her lover, and Snorri apparently agrees with him in making Hedin Norwegian; but in the _Gudrun_ Hettel is Frisian or Jutish. The Anglo-Saxon _Widsith_ mentions in one line Hagena, king of the Holmrygas (a Norwegian province), and Heoden, king of the Glommas (not identified), who may be the Högni and Hedin of this tale. The Anglo-Saxon and German agree on another point where both differ from the Norse. The Anglo-Saxon poem _Deor_ is supposed to be spoken by a _scop_ or court poet who has been ousted from the favour of his lord, a Heodening, by Heorrenda, another singer: "Once I was the Heodenings' scop, dear to my lord: Deor was my name. Many a year I had a good service and a gracious lord, until the song-skilled Hoerrenda received the rights which the protector of men once granted me." Like Heorrenda, Horant in the _Gudrun_ is a singer in the service of the Heathnings. The Norse version keeps the name, and its connection with the Heathnings, but gives Hjarrandi, as the hero's father, no active part to play. In both points, arguing from the probable Frisian origin of the story, the Anglo-Saxon and German are more likely to have the correct form. The legend is, like those of Walter and Hildigund, Helgi and Sigrun, founded on the primary instincts of love and war. In the Norse story of the Heathnings, however, the former element is almost eliminated. It is from no love to Hedin that Hild accompanies him, though Saxo would have it so. Nothing is clearer than that strife is her only object. It is her mediation which brings about the battle, when apparently both heroes would be quite willing to make peace; and her arts which cause the daily renewal of fighting. This island battle among dead and living is peculiar to the Norse version, and coloured by, if not originating in, the Valhalla idea: Högni and Hedin and their men are the Einherjar who fight every day and rest and feast at night, Hild is a war-goddess. The conception of her character, contrasting with the gentler part played by the Continental German heroines (who are rather the causes than the inciters of strife), can be paralleled from many of the sagas proper. Högni's sword Dainsleif, forged by the dwarfs, as were all magic weapons, is like the sword of Angantyr, in that it claims a victim whenever it is drawn from the sheath: an idea which may easily have arisen from the prowess of any famous swordsman. _The Sword of Angantyr_.--Like the two last legends, Angantyr's story is not represented in the Elder Edda; it is not even told by Snorri. Yet poems belonging to the cycle survive (preserved by good fortune in the late mythical _Hervarar Saga_) which among the heroic poems rank next in artistic beauty to the Helgi Lays. Since the story possesses besides a striking originality, and is connected with the name of a Pan-Germanic hero, the Ongendtheow of Old English poetry, I cannot follow the example of most editors and omit it from the heroic poems. Like the Volsung legend it is the story of a curse; and there is a general similarity of outline, with the exception that the hero is in this case a woman. The curse-laden treasure is here the sword Tyrfing, which Svafrlami got by force from the dwarfs. They laid a curse on it: that it should bring death to its bearer, no wound it made should be healed, and it should claim a victim whenever it was unsheathed. In the saga, the story is spread over several generations: partly, no doubt, in order to include varying versions; partly also in imitation of the true Icelandic family saga. The chief actors in the legend, beside the sword, are Angantyr and his daughter Hervör. The earlier history of Tyrfing is told in the saga. Svafrlami is killed, with the magic weapon itself, by the viking Arngrim, who thus gains possession of it; when he is slain in his turn, it descends to Angantyr, the eldest of his twelve berserk sons. For a while no one can withstand them, but the doom overtakes them at last in the battle of Samsey against the Swedes Arrow-Odd and Hjalmar. In berserk-rage, the twelve brothers attack the Swedish ships, and slay every man except the two leaders who have landed on the island. The battle over, the berserks go ashore, and there when their fury is past, they are attacked by the two Swedish champions. Odd fights eleven of the brothers, but Hjalmar has the harder task in meeting Angantyr and his sword. All the twelve sons of Arngrim fall, and Hjalmar is mortally wounded by Tyrfing. The survivor buries his twelve foemen where they fell, and takes his comrade's body back to Sweden. The first poem gives the challenge of the Swedish champions, and Hjalmar's dying song. Hervör, the daughter of Angantyr, is in some respects a female counterpart of Sigurd. Like him, she is born after her father's death, and brought up in obscurity. When she learns her father's name, she goes forth without delay to claim her inheritance from the dead, even with the curse that goes with it. Here the second poem begins. On reaching the island where her father fell, she asks a shepherd to guide her to the graves of Arngrim's sons: "I will ask no hospitality, for I know not the islanders; tell me quickly, where are the graves called Hjörvard's howes?" He is unwilling: "The man is foolish who comes here alone in the dark shade of night: fire is flickering, howes are opening, field and fen are aflame," and flees into the woods, but Hervör is dauntless and goes on alone. She reaches the howes, and calls on the sons of Arngrim: "Awake, Angantyr! Hervör calls thee, only daughter to thee and Tofa. Give me from the howe the keen sword which the dwarfs forged for Svafrlami, Hervard, Hjörvard, Hrani, Angantyr! I call you all from below the tree-roots, with helm and corselet, with sharp sword, shield and harness, and reddened spear." Angantyr denies that the sword is in his howe: "Neither father, son, nor other kinsmen buried me; my slayers had Tyrfing;" but Hervör does not believe him. "Tell me but truth.... Thou art slow to give thine only child her heritage." He tries to frighten her back to the ships by describing the sights she will see, but she only cries again, "Give me Hjalmar's slayer from the howe, Angantyr!" A. "Hjalmar's slayer lies under my shoulders; it is all wrapped in fire; I know no maid on earth who dare take that sword in her hands." H. "I will take the sharp sword in my hands, if I can get it: I fear no burning fire, the flame sinks as I look on it." A. "Foolish art thou, Hervör the fearless, to rush into the fire open-eyed. I will rather give thee the sword from the howe, young maid; I cannot refuse thee." H. "Thou dost well, son of vikings, to give me the sword from the howe. I think its possession better than to win all Norway." Her father warns her of the curse, and the doom that the sword will bring, and she leaves the howes followed by his vain wish: "Would that I could give thee the lives of us twelve, the strength and energy that we sons of Arngrim left behind us!" It is unnecessary here to continue the story as the saga does, working out the doom over later generations; over Hervör's son Heidrek, who forfeited his head to Odin in a riddle-contest, and over his children, another Angantyr, Hlod, and a second Hervör. The verse sources for this latter part are very corrupt. A full discussion of the relation between the Eddic and the Continental versions of the heroic tales summarised in the foregoing pages would, of course, be far beyond the scope of this study; the utmost that can be done in that direction is to suggest a few points. Three of the stories are not concerned in this section: Helgi and Frodi are purely Scandinavian cycles; while though Angantyr is a well-known heroic name (in _Widsith_ Ongendtheow is king of the Swedes), the legend attached to his name in the Norse sources does not survive elsewhere. The Weland cycle is perhaps common property. None of the versions localise it, for the names in _Völundarkvida_, Wolfdale, Myrkwood, &c., are conventional heroic place-names. It was popular at a very early date in England, and is probably a Pan-Germanic legend. The Sigurd and Hild stories, on the contrary, are both, in all versions, localised on the Continent, the former by the Rhine, the latter in Friesland or Jutland; both, therefore, in Low German country, whence they must have spread to the other Germanic lands. To England they were doubtless carried by the Low German invaders of the sixth century. On the question of their passage to the North there are wide differences of opinion. Most scholars agree that there was an earlier and a later passage, the first taking Hild, Ermanric, and the Volsung story; the second, about the twelfth or thirteenth century, the Volsungs again, with perhaps Dietrich and Attila. But there is much disagreement as to the date of the first transmission. Müllenhoff put it as early as 600; Konrad Maurer, in the ninth and tenth centuries; while Dr. Golther is of opinion that the Volsung story passed first to the vikings in France, and then westward over Ireland to Iceland; therefore also not before the ninth century. Such evidence as is afforded by the very slight English references makes it probable that the Scandinavians had the tales later than the English, a view supported by the more highly developed form of the Norse version, and, in the case of the Volsung cycle, its greater likeness to the Continental German. The earliest Norse references which can be approximately dated are in the Skald Bragi (first half of the ninth century), who knew all three stories: the Hild and Ermanric tales he gives in outline; his only reference to the Volsungs is a kenning, "the Volsungs' drink," for serpent. With the possible exception of the Anglo-Saxon fragments, the Edda preserves on the whole the purest versions of those stories which are common to all, though, as might be expected, the Continental sources sometimes show greater originality in isolated details. These German sources have entangled the different cycles into one involved mass; but in the Norse the extraneous elements are easily detached. The motives of heroic tales are limited in number and more or less common to different races. Heroic cycles differ as a rule merely in their choice or combination of incidents, not in the nature of their material. The origin of these heroic motives may generally be found in primitive custom or conditions of life, seized by an imaginative people and woven into legend; sometimes linked to the name of some dead tribal hero, just as the poets of a later date wound the same traditions in still-varying combinations round the names of Gretti Asmundarson and Gold-Thori; though often the hero is, like the Gods, born of the myth. In the latter case, the story is pure myth; in the former it is legend, or a mixture of history and legend, as in the Ermanric and Dietrich tales, which have less interest for the mythologist. The curse-bringing treasure, one of the most fruitful Germanic motives, probably has its origin in the custom of burying a dead man's possessions with him. In the _Waterdale Saga_, Ketil Raum, a viking of the eighth and early ninth centuries, reproaches his son Thorstein as a degenerate, in that he expects to inherit his father's wealth, instead of winning fortune for himself: "It used to be the custom with kings and earls, men of our kind, that they won for themselves fortune and fame; wealth was not counted as a heritage, nor would sons inherit from their fathers, but rather lay their possessions in the howe with them." It is easy to see that when this custom came into conflict with the son's natural desire to inherit, the sacrosanctity of the dead man's treasure and of his burial-mound would be their only protection against violation. The fear of the consequences of breaking the custom took form in the myth of the curse, as in the sword of Angantyr and the Nibelungs' hoard; while the dangers attending the violation of the howe were personified in the dragon-guardian. In _Gold-Thori's Saga_, the dead berserks whose howe Thori enters, are found guarding their treasure in the shape of dragons; while Thori himself is said to have turned into a dragon after death. Marriage with alien wives, which in the case of the Mastermaid story has been postulated as means of transmission and as the one possible explanation of its nearly universal diffusion, may perhaps with more simplicity be assumed as the common basis in custom for independently arising myths of this type. The attempts of the bride's kindred to prevent the marriage, and of the bridegroom's to undo it, would be natural incidents in such a story, and the magic powers employed by and against the bride would be the mythical representatives of the mutually unfamiliar customs of alien tribes. This theory at least offers a credible explanation of the hero's temporary oblivion of or unfaithfulness to his protectress, after their successful escape together. In the Valkyrie-brides, Brynhild and Sigrun, with their double attributes of fighting and wisdom, there is an evident connexion with the Germanic type of woman preserved in the allusions of Cæsar and Tacitus, which reaches its highest development in the heroines of the Edda. Any mythical or ideal conception of womanhood combines the two primitive instincts, love and fighting, even though the woman may be only the innocent cause of strife, or its passive prize. The peculiarity of the Germanic representation is that the woman is never passive, but is herself the incarnation of both instincts. Even if she is not a Valkyrie, nor taking part herself in the fight, she is ready, like the wives of the Cimbri, to drive the men back to the battle from which they have escaped. Hild and Hervör are at one extreme: war is their spiritual life. Love is in Hild nothing more than instinct; in Hervör it is not even that: she would desire nothing from marriage beyond a son to inherit the sword. At the other extreme is Sigrun, who has the warlike instinct, but is spiritually a lover as completely and essentially as Isolde or Juliet. The interest in Signy lies in the way in which she sacrifices what are usually considered the strongest feminine instincts, without, however, by any means abandoning them, to her uncompromising revenge and pride of race. Her pride in her son seems to include something of both trains of feeling; and she dies with the husband she detests, simply because he is her husband. Brynhild, lastly, is a highly modern type, as independent in love as in war. It is impossible to imagine Sigrun, or Wagner's Sieglinde, taking her revenge on a faithless lover; from no lack of spirit, but simply because revenge would have given no comfort to either. To Brynhild it is not only a distinct relief, but the only endurable end; she can forgive when she is avenged. The other motives of these stories may be briefly enumerated. The burning of Brynhild and Signy, and Sigrun's entrance into the howe, are mythical reminiscences of widow-burial. The "sister's son" is preserved in the Sigmund and Sinfjötli tale, which also has a trace of animism in the werwolf episode. The common swanmaid motive occurs in two, the Völund story and the legend of Helgi and Kara; while the first Helgi tale suggests the Levirate in the proposed marriage of Svava to her husband's brother. The waverlowe of the Volsung myth may be traced back to the midsummer fires; the wooing of Brynhild by Sigurd's crossing the fire would thus, like the similar bridal of Menglad and Svipdag and the winning of Gerd for Frey, be based on the marriages which formed a part of agricultural rites. Bibliographical Notes To avoid confusion, and in view of the customary loose usage of the word "saga," it may be as well to state that it is here used only in its technical sense of a prose history. _Völund_. (Pages 5 to 8.) Dr. Rydberg formulates a theory identifying Völund with Thiazi, the giant who carried off Idunn. It is based chiefly on arguments from names and other philological considerations, and gives perhaps undue weight to the authority of Saxo. It is difficult to see any fundamental likenesses in the stories. The Old English references to Weland are in the _Waldere_ fragment and the _Lament of Deor_. For the Franks Casket, see Professor Napier's discussion, with photographs, in the _English Miscellany_ (Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1901). The _Thidreks Saga_ (sometimes called _Vilkina Saga_), was edited by Unger (Christiania, 1853), and by Hylten-Cavallius (1880). There are two German translations: by Rassmann (_Heldensage,_ (1863), and by Von der Hagen (_Nordische Heldenromane_, 1873). _The Volsungs_. (Pages 8 to 27.) As divided in most editions the poems connected with the Volsung cycle, including the two on Ermanric, are fifteen in number: _Gripisspa_. _Reginsmal, Fafnismal, Sigrdrifumal_, a continued narrative compiled from different sources. _Sigurd Fragment_, on the death of Sigurd. _First Gudrun Lay_, on Gudrun's mourning, late. _Short Sigurd Lay_ (called _Long Brynhild Lay_ in the _Corpus Poeticum_; sometimes called _Third Sigurd Lay_). style late. _Brynhild's Hellride_, a continuation of the preceding. _Second_, or _Old, Gudrun Lay_, is also late. It contains more kennings than are usual in Eddic poetry, and the picture of Gudrun's sojourn in Denmark and the tapestry she wrought with Thora Halfdan's daughter, together with the descriptions of her suitors, belong to a period which had a taste for colour and elaboration of detail. _Third Gudrun Lay_, or the _Ordeal of Gudrun_ (after her marriage to Atli), is romantic in character. The Gothic hero Thjodrek (Dietrich) is introduced. _Oddrun's Lament_, in which Gunnar's death is caused by an intrigue with Atli's sister Oddrun, marks the disintegration of the Volsung legend. The two Atli Lays _(Atlakvida_ and _Atlamal_, the latter of Greenland origin), deal with the death of Gunnar and Högni, and Gudrun's vengeance on Atli. _Gudrun's Lament_ and _Hamthismal_ belong to the Ermanric cycle. _Volsung Paraphrases_. (Page 11.) _Skaldskaparmal, Völsunga Saga_ and _Norna-Gests Thattr_ (containing another short paraphrase) are all included in Dr. Wilken's _Die Prosaische Edda_ (Paderborn, 1878). There is an English version of _Völsunga_ by Magnusson and Morris (London, 1870) and a German version of _Völsunga_ and _Norna-Gest_ by Edzardi. _Nibelungenlied_. (Page 11.) Editions by Bartsch (Leipzig, 1895) and Zarncke (Halle, 1899); translation into modern German by Simrock. _Signy and Siggeir_. (Page 13.) Saxo Grammaticus (Book vii.) tells the story of a Signy, daughter of Sigar, whose lover Hagbard, after slaying her brothers, wins her favour. Sigar in vengeance had him strangled on a hill in view of Signy's windows, and she set fire to her house that she might die simultaneously with her lover. The antiquity of part at least of this story is proved by the kenning "Hagbard's collar" for halter, in a poem probably of the tenth century. On the other hand, a reference in _Völsunga Saga_, that "Haki and Hagbard were great and famous men, yet Sigar carried off their sister, ... and they were slow to vengeance," shows that there is confusion somewhere. It seems possible that Hagbard's story has been contaminated with a distorted account of the Volsung Signy, civilised as usual by Saxo, with an effect of vulgarity absent from the primitive story. In a recently published pamphlet by Mr. W.W. Lawrence and Dr. W.H. Schofield (_The First Riddle of Cynewulf_ and _Signy's Lament_. Baltimore: The Modern Language Association of America. 1902) it is suggested that the so-called First Riddle in the Exeter Book is in reality an Anglo-Saxon translation of a Norse "Complaint" spoken by the Volsung Signy. Evidence from metre and form is all in favour of this view, and the poem bears the interpretation without any straining of the meaning. Dr. Schofield's second contention, that the poem thus interpreted is evidence for the theory of a British origin for the Eddie poems, is not equally convincing. The existence in Anglo-Saxon of a translation from the Norse is no proof that any of the Eddie poems, or even the original Norse "Signy's Lament" postulated by Dr. Schofield, were composed in the West. It seems unnecessary to suppose, with Dr. Schofield, an influence of British legend on the Volsung story. The points in which the story of Sigmund resembles that of Arthur and differs from that of Theseus prove nothing in the face of equally strong points of correspondence between Arthur and Theseus which are absent from the Volsung story. _Sinfjötli's Death_. (Page 14.) Munch (_Nordmændenes Gudelære_, Christiania, 1847) ingeniously identified the old man with Odin, come in person to conduct Sinfjötli to Valhalla, since he would otherwise have gone to Hel, not having fallen in battle; a stratagem quite in harmony with Odin's traditional character. _Sigmund and Sinfjötli_. (Page 15.) It seems probable, on the evidence of _Beowulf_, that Sigmund and Sinfjötli represent the Pan-Germanic stage of the national-hero, and Sigurd or Siegfried the Continental stage. Possibly Helgi may then be the Norse race-hero. Sigurd was certainly foreign to Scandinavia; hence the epithet Hunnish, constantly applied to him, and the localising of the legend by the Rhine. The possibility suggests itself that the Brynhild part of the story, on the other hand, is of Scandinavian origin, and thence passed to Germany. It is at least curious that the _Nibelungen Lied_ places Prunhilt in Iceland. _Wagner and the Volsung Cycle_. (Page 26.) Wagner's _Ring des Nibelungen_ is remarkable not only for the way in which it reproduces the spirit of both the Sinfjötli and the Sigurd traditions, but also for the wonderful instinct which chooses the best and most primitive features of both Norse and Continental versions. Thus he keeps the dragon of the Norse, the Nibelungs of the German; preserves the wildness of the old Sigmund tale, and substitutes the German Hagen for his paler Norse namesake; restores the original balance between the parts of Brynhild and Gudrun; gives the latter character, and an active instead of a passive function in the story, by assigning to her her mother's share in the action; and by substituting for the slaying of the otter the bargain with the Giants for the building of Valhalla, makes the cause worthy of the catastrophe. _Ermanric_. (Page 27.) For examples of legend becoming attached to historical names, see Tylor's _Primitive Culture_. _The Helgi Lays_. (Page 29.) The Helgi Lays stand before the Volsung set in the MS.; I treat them later for the sake of greater clearness. _Helgi and Kara_. (Page 30.) _Hromundar Saga Gripssonar_, in which this story is given, is worthless as literature, and has not been recently edited. P.E. Müller's _Sagabibliothek_, in which it was published, is out of print. Latin and Swedish translations may be found in Björner's _Nordiske Kåmpa Dater_ (Stockholm, 1737), also out of print. _Rebirth_. (Page 31.) Dr. Storm has an interesting article on the Norse belief in Re-birth in the _Arkiv for Nordisk Filologi_, ix. He collects instances, and among other arguments points out the Norse custom of naming a posthumous child after its dead father as a probable relic of the belief. The inheritance of luck may perhaps be another survival; a notable instance occurs in _Viga-Glums Saga_, where the warrior Vigfus bequeaths his luck to his favourite grandson, Glum. In the _Waterdale Saga_ there are two instances in which it is stated that the luck of the dead grandfather will pass to the grandson who receives his name. Scholars do not, however, agree as to the place of the rebirth idea in the Helgi poems, some holding the view that it is an essential part of the story. _Hunding_. (Page 32.) It is possible that the werwolf story is a totem survival. If so, the Hunding feud might easily belong to it: dogs are the natural enemies of wolves. It is curious that the Irish werwolf Cormac has a feud with MacCon (_i.e._, Son of a Dog), which means the same as Hunding. This story, which has not been printed, will be found in the Bodleian MS. Laud, 610. _Thorgerd Holgabrud_. (Page 33.) Told in Saxo, Book ii. Snorri has a bare allusion to it. _Holger Danske, or Ogier Le Danois_. (Page 33.) See _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, vol. i. p. cxxx., and No. 10 of this series. The Norse version of the story (Helgi Thorisson) is told in the Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, and is summarised by Dr. Rydberg in the _Teutonic Mythology_, and by Mr. Nutt in the _Voyage of Bran_. _Ballads_. (Page 36.) Professor Child is perhaps hasty in regarding the two parts of _Clerk Saunders_ as independent. The first part, though unlike the Helgi story in circumstance, seems to preserve the tradition of the hero's hostility to his bride's kindred, and his death at their hands. The Helgi story, in all its variants, is as familiar in Danish as in Border ballads. The distribution of the material in Iceland, Denmark, England and Scotland is strongly in favour of the presumption that Scandinavian legend influenced England and Scotland, and against the presumption that the poems in question passed from the British Isles to Iceland. The evidence of the Danish ballads should be conclusive on this point. There is an English translation of the latter by R.C.A. Prior (_Ancient Danish Ballads_, London, 1860). _The Everlasting Battle_. (Page 39.) The Skald Bragi (before 850 A.D.) has a poem on this subject, given with a translation in the _Corpus_, vol. ii. Saxo's version is in the fifth book of his History. According to Bragi, Hild has a necklace, which has caused comparison of this story with that of the Greek Eriphyle. Irish legendary history describes a similar battle in which the slain revive each night and renew the fight daily, as occurring in the wanderings of the Tuatha De Danann before they reached Ireland. According to Keating, they learnt the art of necromancy in the East, and taught it to the Danes. The latest edition of the _Gudrun_ is by Ernst Martin (second edition, Halle, 1902). There is a modern German translation by Simrock. _Angantyr_. (Page 42.) The poems of this cycle are four in number--(1) _Hjalmar's Death-song_: (2) _Angantyr and Hervör_; (3) _Heidrek's Riddle-Poem_: (4) _Angantyr the Younger and Hlod_. All are given in the first volume of the _Corpus_, with translations. _Herrarar Saga_ was published by Rafn (Copenhagen, 1829-30) in _Fornaldar Sögur_, vol. i., now out of print. It has been more recently edited by Dr. Bugge, together with _Völsunga_ and others. Petersen (Copenhagen, 1847) edited it with a Danish translation. Munch's _Nordmuendenes Gudelære_ (out of print) contains a short abstract. _Death of Angantyr_. (Page 43.) Angantyr's death is related by Saxo, Book v., with entire exclusion of all mythical interest. _Transmission of Legends_. (Page 47.) Müllenhoff's views are given in the _Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum_, vol. x.; Maurer's in the _Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie_, vol. ii. For Golther's views on the Volsung cycle see _Germania_, 33. _The Dragon Myth_. (Page 49.) See also Hartland, _Science of Fairy-Tales_. The eating of the dragon's heart (see p. 19) may possibly be a survival of the custom of eating a slain enemy's heart to obtain courage, of which Dr. Frazer gives examples in the _Golden Bough_. _Alien Wives_. (Page 49.) For the theory of alien wives as a means of transmission, see Lang, _Custom and Myth_ (London, 1893). _The Sister's Son_. (Page 51.) See Mr. Gummere's article in the _English Miscellany_; and Professor Rhys' Presidential Address to the Anthropological Section of the British Association, 1900. The double relationship between Sigmund and Sinfjötli (not uncommon in heroic tales; compare Conchobhar and Cuchulainn, Arthur and Mordred) seems in this case due to the same cause as the custom which prevailed in the dynasty of the Ptolemies, where the king often married his sister, that his heir might be of the pure royal blood. _Swanmaids_. (Page 51.) See Hartland, _Science of Fairy-Tales._ _The Waverlowe_. (Page 51.) Dr. Frazer (_Golden Bough_) gives instances of ritual marriages connected with the midsummer fires. For _Svipdag and Menglad_, see Study No. 12 of this series. If Rydberg, as seems very probable, is right in identifying Menglad and Svipdag with Freyja and the mortal lover who wins her and whom she afterwards loses, the story would be a parallel to those of Venus and Adonis, Ishtar and Tammuz, &c., which Frazer derives from the ritual marriage of human sacrifices to the Goddess of fertility. The reason given in the Edda for Brynhild's sleep, and her connexion with Odin, are secondary, arising from the Valhalla myth. Printed by _Ballantyne, Hanson & Co_ London & Edinburgh 
24737	----	None 
46118	----	[Transcriber's Note: Italic text is represented by _underscores_. Small capitals in the original have been converted to all capitals. Footnotes have been moved to the end.] Religions Ancient and Modern THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT SCANDINAVIA RELIGIONS: ANCIENT AND MODERN. ANIMISM. By EDWARD CLODD, Author of _The Story of Creation_. PANTHEISM. By JAMES ALLANSON PICTON, Author of _The Religion of the Universe_. THE RELIGIONS OF ANCIENT CHINA. By Professor GILES, LL.D., Professor of Chinese in the University of Cambridge. THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT GREECE. By JANE HARRISON, Lecturer at Newnham College, Cambridge, Author of _Prolegomena to Study of Greek Religion_. ISLAM. By AMEER ALI SYED, M.A., C.I.E., late of H.M.'s High Court of Judicature in Bengal, Author of _The Spirit of Islam_ and _The Ethics of Islam_. MAGIC AND FETISHISM. By Dr. A. C. HADDON, F.R.S., Lecturer on Ethnology at Cambridge University. THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT EGYPT. By Professor W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, F.R.S. THE RELIGION OF BABYLONIA AND ASSYRIA. By THEOPHILUS G. PINCHES, late of the British Museum. EARLY BUDDHISM. By Professor RHYS DAVIDS, LL.D., late Secretary of The Royal Asiatic Society. HINDUISM. By Dr. L. D. BARNETT, of the Department of Oriental Printed Books and MSS., British Museum. SCANDINAVIAN RELIGION. By WILLIAM A. CRAIGIE, Joint Editor of the _Oxford English Dictionary_. CELTIC RELIGION. By Professor ANWYL, Professor of Welsh at University College, Aberystwyth. THE MYTHOLOGY OF ANCIENT BRITAIN AND IRELAND. By CHARLES SQUIRE, Author of _The Mythology of the British Islands_. JUDAISM. By ISRAEL ABRAHAMS, Lecturer in Talmudic Literature in Cambridge University, Author of _Jewish Life in the Middle Ages_. THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT ROME. By CYRIL BAILEY, M.A. SHINTO, THE ANCIENT RELIGION OF JAPAN. By W. G. ASTON, C.M.G. THE MYTHOLOGIES OF ANCIENT MEXICO AND PERU. By LEWIS SPENCE, M.A. EARLY CHRISTIANITY. By S. B. SLACK, Professor at McGill University. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ORIGIN AND NATURE OF RELIGION. By Professor J. H. LEUBA. THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT PALESTINE. By STANLEY A. COOK. THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT SCANDINAVIA By W. A. CRAIGIE, M.A. TAYLORIAN LECTURER IN THE SCANDINAVIAN LANGUAGES, OXFORD. AUTHOR OF 'SCANDINAVIAN FOLK-LORE' LONDON CONSTABLE & COMPANY LTD 10 ORANGE STREET LEICESTER SQUARE 1914 FOREWORD The native religion of the ancient Scandinavians was in its main features only a special form of that common to all the Germanic peoples, and this again was only a particular development of primitive beliefs and practices characteristic of the whole Aryan race. It is impossible to say how far back in time the special Germanic and Scandinavian developments of this religion may go, and of their earlier stages we have absolutely no knowledge beyond what may be doubtfully reached by the methods of comparison and inference. Even of the later stages our information is much more scanty than might be expected. Among the Goths, the southern Germans, and the Anglo-Saxons in Britain, paganism gave way to Christianity at so early a period, that very few details relating to it have been recorded by the civil or religious historians of these peoples; they were indeed more inclined to suppress than perpetuate any lingering knowledge of this kind. The absence of such information is a great bar to the proper understanding of many points in Scandinavian religion, which, instead of being thus illuminated from without, has continually been forced to throw light on the heathen worship of the other Teutonic peoples. As to the Scandinavian peoples themselves, it is only from a comparatively late period in the history of Europe that we have any real knowledge of them. They first became notorious at the close of the eighth century, when their unexpected piratical descents on Britain and France alarmed Western Christendom. Early in the ninth century the Saxon monk Ansgar ventured upon missionary enterprises into Scandinavia, at that time entirely a heathen region, and on two occasions reached the court of the Swedish king. About the middle of the same century Christianity began to make way in Denmark, which in another fifty years or so had become in the main a Christian land. During the tenth century the new faith began to make itself felt in Norway, but did not finally overcome the old religion until the beginning of the eleventh: in Iceland, which had been colonised from Norway, the adoption of Christianity took place somewhat suddenly in the year 1000. Sweden for the most part still remained heathen, and did not fully accept the new religion until the twelfth century. During these three centuries we have very little outside evidence as to the character of the religion professed by any of the Scandinavian peoples, and our knowledge of the beliefs and practices of northern heathenism is for the most part derived from native sources of a later date. These, while in some respects copious enough, by no means give all the information that could be desired, and on some important points their evidence is either scanty or very unsatisfactory. The deficiencies are to a large extent disguised, at first sight, by the fact that we possess abundant information as to Scandinavian _mythology_. Not only do the poems of the skalds (from the close of the ninth century onwards) abound in mythological allusions, but there also exists a systematic account of the subject in the work of Snorri Sturluson, commonly known as the 'Prose Edda,' written in Iceland about the year 1220. For the facts relating to the actual _religion_, on the other hand, we have to depend on the few pieces of outside evidence, and on fairly numerous, but not always reliable, statements in the biographical and historical prose writings commonly grouped together under the name of 'Sagas.' These works, based on oral tradition of a very full and often very accurate nature, were written in Iceland during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and most of them are separated by more than a century and a half from the period of time to which they relate. As the authors were in every case Christians, and many of them were ecclesiastics, it is obvious that the late evidence thus afforded us is not to be absolutely relied upon. On the other hand, the tenacity of Icelandic tradition, the continuous interest in the poetic mythology, and the absence of any fanatical hatred of the old heathenism, make it possible to accept, with due reservations, many of the statements made in these writings. It is unfortunate, however, that Iceland alone of all the Scandinavian countries developed a literature of this kind. The result is that the information thus preserved relates for the most part only to Iceland itself and its mother-country, Norway. The heathen period in Denmark was so remote, and Sweden itself so slightly connected with Iceland, that comparatively little is recorded of either, although Sweden was still heathen when Icelandic literature began. This is the more to be regretted, as a fuller knowledge of the precise form which the old religion had in Denmark and Sweden would in all probability solve some problems which are now obscure. In the following account of the ancient Scandinavian religion, an attempt has been made to exhibit what is really known of the religious beliefs and practices of the people as distinct from the mythological fancies of the poets. With the evidence which we possess, it is impossible to determine how far the latter ever formed any part of a real popular religion: in some respects there seems to be a decided opposition between the two. The mythology, as it is found in the old poems and in the Prose Edda, has been the subject of much learned speculation, and various theories as to the original functions of the different gods and goddesses have from time to time been advanced, and have met with more or less acceptance. Much has also been written on the question how far the original conceptions had been modified under classic and Christian influences even before Christianity was finally accepted in the north. All discussion of these matters is here omitted in favour of a more direct investigation into the purely religious aspect of the old faith, so far as the existing materials admit of this. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE FOREWORD, v I. THE GREAT GODS: THOR AND ODIN, 1 II. THE REMAINING GODS AND OTHER OBJECTS OF WORSHIP, 24 III. TEMPLES AND IMAGES, 39 IV. CEREMONIES AND MINISTERS OF RELIGION, 53 SELECTED WORKS, 71 THE ANCIENT SCANDINAVIAN RELIGION CHAPTER I THE GREAT GODS: THOR AND ODIN In common with the other Aryan races, the ancient Scandinavians recognised, as the basis of their religion, certain supernatural, usually unseen, powers ruling the world and exercising an influence on the affairs of mankind. In the ideas which prevailed as to the nature of these powers certain correspondences can be clearly traced in the various Aryan religions, in spite of the fact that our knowledge of them dates from widely different periods of history. Even the Romans, when they came into contact with the Germanic races, noticed some of the similarities, and applied the names of several of their own deities to the corresponding figures among the barbarian gods. When closer intercourse between Roman and German had established itself, the result of these equations was made prominent in the names adopted by the latter for the days of the week, several of which, in most of the Germanic tongues, still bear witness to the old religion of the race. Thus the counterpart of the Roman _Mars_ was found in the god _Tiw_, and consequently _dies Martis_ was rendered by forms now represented in English by _Tuesday_. In the same way the Roman _Mercurius_, _Jupiter_, and _Venus_ were identified with the Germanic gods called by the English _Wóden_, _Thunor_, and _Fríg_, whence the names of _Wednesday_, _Thursday_, and _Friday_. In making these equations, of course, neither German nor Roman did more than consider the most obvious points of resemblance between the deities; how close the correspondence actually was in each case it is impossible to say, as we know so little of the precise form which the native religion had among the southern Germans. It is only to a certain extent that the details suggested by these translations of the Roman names are supported by the evidence from the Scandinavian side, but it is extremely probable that some of the more striking discrepancies are due to difference in time as well as in place and people. The three gods and the goddess whose names are thus commemorated in the days of the week hold also a prominent place among the Scandinavian deities, where they appear under the names of Ty (_Týr_), Odin (_Óðinn_), Thor (_þórr_), and Frigg. But while Odin and Thor actually hold the place which they might be expected to occupy as objects of worship, the warlike deity Ty has apparently become of secondary importance. This is indicated not only by the native Scandinavian evidence, but also by what can be gleaned from external sources. In an Old English sermon[1] by the Abbot Ælfric, about the year 1000, the mention of some of the Roman deities leads the preacher to introduce the corresponding Danish names. Jove or Jupiter, he says, 'was called Thor among some peoples, and him the Danes love most of all.' Mercury, too, 'was honoured among all the heathens, and he is otherwise called Othon in Danish.' Of Ty there is no mention, although Mars is one of the Roman deities specified by name. In another homily by Ælfric there is the same identification of Thor and Odin, along with 'the foul goddess Venus, whom men call Frigg,' but here also Ty is ignored. More than merely negative evidence, however, is supplied by another outside source, which is the leading contemporary account of Scandinavian religion, viz. that given by the German historian, Adam of Bremen (about the year 1075), in his description of the great temple of the Swedes at Upsala, and of the gods worshipped there. Here he writes, 'the people venerate the statues of three gods, so placed that the most powerful of them, Thor, has his seat in the middle of the bench. On either side of him Wodan and Fricco have their places. Of these the significations are as follows. Thor, they say, presides in the air, and governs thunder and lightning, winds and rains, fair weather and crops. The next, Wodan, that is "Fury," carries on wars and gives men valour against their enemies. The third is Fricco, bestowing peace and pleasure upon mortals.' The image of Wodan, he adds, resembled that of the Roman Mars; that of Thor suggested Jupiter, while Fricco was represented in a form resembling the minor deity Priapus. The god here called Fricco was known to the Scandinavians themselves by the name of Frey (_Freyr_), and that the triad thus specified by Adam were in fact the chief deities worshipped in the later stages of Scandinavian religion is abundantly proved by the native evidence. The identification of Odin with Mars in place of Mercury is also in full accordance with the later beliefs: in other words, Odin has taken the place of Ty as the chief war-god. Whether this was the main reason for the admission of Frey as third member of the supreme triad is uncertain, the earlier position of this god being altogether unknown. Thor, it will be noticed, still retains his place as the counterpart of the Roman Jupiter, and stands between the other two gods, as being the most powerful. The precise relationship, however, between Thor and Odin is not by any means so simple as this statement would suggest, and forms indeed one of the most difficult questions connected with the subject. This will be most clearly brought out by a detailed account of the relative place assigned to each of them in religious practice on the one hand, and in mythological accounts on the other; and the most correct impression of the facts will probably be obtained by dealing first with Thor. The pre-eminence assigned to this god by Ælfric and Adam of Bremen is quite in accordance with what can fairly be inferred from the native historical sources. A considerable number of passages in the sagas yield combined proof that by the people at large Thor was regarded as the chief deity, at least in Norway and Iceland: for Sweden and Denmark the evidence is less conclusive, but seems to point in the same direction. It is of great significance, for example, that in all the Scandinavian countries the name of Thor is the one which is most frequently used as a formative element in the names of persons (such as Thor-kell, Stein-thor), and these were evidently quite as common in Sweden and Denmark as in Norway and Iceland. On the other hand, the name of Odin is scarcely ever employed, only one or two instances being found among the Danes and Swedes. Names with Frey- as their first element are more frequent, but are in small proportion compared with those in Thor-. In Danish and Swedish place-names, too, the predominance of Thor is very marked, although Odin and Frey are better represented here than in the case of the personal names. In Norway and Iceland place-names of this kind are rare, but Thorsness and Thorsmark occur in the latter country. The frequency with which Thor's hammer (see below) is represented on Danish and Swedish runic monuments, and the occurrence on ancient Danish stones of the formula 'May Thor hallow this monument' (or 'these runes'), also indicate that the position of this deity was much the same among all branches of the Scandinavian people. In Denmark, too, there are distinct traces of a tendency to hold local assemblies on the day named after the god; in Iceland this was the day on which the famous _Al-thing_ (the legal and legislative assembly of the whole people) began every year, ten weeks after the first day of summer, and in Norway the great law-assembly of the western districts also began its meetings on a Thursday. For Norway and Iceland there is a considerable amount of more direct evidence than this. In several of the Icelandic historical writings it is expressly stated that some of the leading colonists had a special regard for Thor and his worship. Of one who came from the island of Mostr, on the south-western coast of Norway, it is told that he had the custody of Thor's temple there, and was a 'great friend' of the god, on which account he was called Thorolf (=_Thor-wolf_). This Thorolf fell out with King Harald, and went to inquire of Thor, 'his loving friend,' whether he should make terms with the king or leave the country. The oracle directed him to go to Iceland. He pulled down the temple, and took with him most of the timber, as well as the earth from under the pedestal on which Thor had been seated. On coming near Iceland, he threw overboard the two chief pillars of the temple, on one of which the image of Thor was carved, and declared he would settle wherever Thor made these come ashore. After landing on the south side of Broadfirth, they found that Thor had come ashore with the pillars on a headland, to which they then gave the name of Thor's-ness, while a river in the neighbourhood was also named after the god. When this Thorolf had a son in his old age, he gave him to his friend Thor, and called him Thorstein. Thorstein also gave his own son to Thor, 'and said he should be a temple-priest, and called him Thorgrim.' Another son of Thorolf's sacrificed to Thor, that he might send him pillars for his house, 'and gave his son for this,' which probably means that he also dedicated his son to the god, though one account appears to imply that he actually offered him in sacrifice. Of another settler, Helgi the Lean, who was brought up in Ireland, it is stated that when he came in sight of Iceland, he inquired of Thor where he should land; the oracle directed him to Eyafirth, and would allow him to go nowhere else. Before they came in sight of the firth, Helgi's son asked him whether he would have obeyed Thor's directions if he had sent him to winter in the Arctic Ocean. Yet Helgi was not absolutely devoted to Thor, as he also believed in Christ, and even called his Icelandic homestead by the name of Christness. It was to Thor, however, that he turned for aid in sea-faring and difficult enterprises, and in all matters that he considered to be of most importance. Thorolf and Helgi were not the only settlers who allowed Thor to fix the place of their habitation in Iceland, and one in the south of the island also consecrated all his land to Thor and called it Thor's-mark. The tendency to appeal to Thor for help in time of need is further illustrated by an incident recorded as having taken place during the Wineland expedition of 1007-8. The explorers were in great straits for want of food, and had prayed for help, which seemed long in coming. One of the party, named Thorhall, was found by the others on the peak of a cliff, looking up to the sky, and muttering something, besides making strange gestures of which he would give no explanation. Shortly afterwards a whale came ashore, and Thorhall said, 'The red-bearded one was stronger now than your Christ. I have got this for my poetry that I made about Thor. He has seldom failed me.' This contrasting of Thor with Christ is a trait which appears in other narratives, and is significant of the place which the god held in the old religion. In the struggle between heathenism and Christianity in the Scandinavian countries it is usually Thor, the red-bearded one, who is the champion of the primitive faith and its most powerful representative. The cases in which Odin takes this place have a much more legendary character, and are more likely to be due to later invention. It was Thor whom the believers in the old faith expressly put forward as a rival to the God of the Christians. In the early part of the eleventh century, when King Olaf Haraldsson was doing his utmost to christianise Norway, the following words are represented as having been spoken by a powerful chief named Gudbrand: 'There is come hither a man named Olaf to offer us another faith than the one we had, and to break all our gods in pieces, and he says that he has a greater and mightier god. It is a marvel that the earth does not open under him when he dares to say such things, and that our gods let him go any further. I expect, if we carry Thor out of our temple where he stands, and where he has always stood by us, that as soon as he looks on Olaf and his men, then _his_ god and himself and his men will melt away and come to nought.' So also when Thangbrand the priest went to Iceland on his missionary enterprise in 997, he met a woman who preached heathendom to him at great length, and asked him, 'Have you not heard that Thor challenged Christ to single combat, and He dared not fight with Thor?' When Thangbrand's ship was destroyed by a violent storm, it was to Thor that the credit of the accident was assigned. The firm hold which Thor had upon the minds of his worshippers is also illustrated by the way in which some of the converts to Christianity felt uneasy at abandoning him. Thorgils of Flói, in the south-west of Iceland, was one of the first to accept the new faith, and more than once he dreamed that Thor came to him with reproaches and threats for this desertion. Thorgils was firm, and defied the angry god, but his later perils at sea were believed by his companions to be the work of Thor, and some of them even wished to sacrifice to him for a fair wind, saying that people had fared much better when they made offerings to him. The prominent place held by the worship of Thor in the old religion is also indicated by the frequent mention of images of the god in various temples (as will appear in a later chapter); this fact acquires special significance when contrasted with the lack of similar statements regarding Odin. It is also extremely probable that it was Thor, and not Odin, to whom the vague names of 'Land-god' (_Land-áss_) and 'The Almighty God' were given; the latter was used, coupled with the names of Frey and Njörd, in an old oath-formula. Having thus made the position of Thor among the Scandinavian gods as clear as the evidence admits of, it remains to show what manner of god his worshippers supposed him to be. On this point there is unfortunately less direct evidence than could be wished. In origin Thor was the thunder-god, and it is therefore natural to find him spoken of as 'the strongest of all the gods.' His weapon, the thunderbolt, was imagined as a hammer, mythologically known by the name of _Mjölnir_, and was especially used by him to protect the gods and men against giants and other evil monsters. To grasp it with he had iron gloves, and he was also possessed of a girdle of might which increased his strength twofold. In his journeys, of which the mythological writers have a good deal to say, he sometimes rode in a chariot drawn by two goats. Of these details there is very little trace in historical sources, although one passage (of doubtful value) speaks of an image of Thor seated in his chariot. The hammer, however, was certainly the distinctive symbol of the god, and representations of it were evidently in common use as sacred and protective marks. Not only is it frequently cut on stone monuments, but small figures of it were apparently used as amulets, of which a number have been found in Denmark and Sweden. When the Danish prince Magnus returned from an expedition into the heathen districts of Sweden in 1123, he brought back with him as trophies some Thor's hammers of metal. It is not clear how far such models of the hammer were used in religious ceremonies; that it was employed at weddings 'to hallow the bride' appears to be highly probable, but there is no direct historical evidence to prove it. The form in which the hammer was commonly represented easily led to its association with the Christian mark of the cross. At a festival held in Norway in 952, Earl Sigurd dedicated the first toast to Odin, and after drinking from the horn handed it to King Hákon, who was a Christian. When the king took it, he made the mark of the cross over it. The heathens present protested against this, and Earl Sigurd attempted to satisfy them by saying, 'The king does like all those who trust to their own might and strength, and consecrate their toast to Thor. He made the mark of the hammer over it before he drank.' The relationship of Thor to Odin, and the precise position of the latter among the Scandinavian gods, must now be more closely considered. In the sermon by Ælfric already cited there is an interesting remark bearing on this, in these words: 'Now the Danes in their delusion say that Jove, whom they call Thor, was the son of Mercury, whom they call Odin, but they are not right in this' (_i.e._ according to Roman mythology).[2] Ælfric's statement is in perfect accordance with the old Scandinavian myths, which represent Thor as the son of Odin and Earth, a relationship also attested by various poetical designations of the god. This is not at all what the historical evidence would lead us to expect, but the mythological account of Odin presents a still more striking contrast to what has been brought forward above as to the position of Thor. 'Odin,' says Snorri, 'is the highest and eldest of the gods; he rules over all things, and for as mighty as the other gods are, they all serve him as children do their father.... Odin is called All-father, because he is the father of all the gods.' It is indeed quite clear that the whole mythological system expounded by Snorri, and implied in all the old Scandinavian poetry, centres on the idea of Odin as the supreme god. As such he has two important sides to his nature. On the one hand he is a war-god, who assigns victory or defeat to men, and who takes the slain warriors to live with himself in Valhall; 'he is also called Val-father, because all those who fall in battle are his chosen sons: to them he gives places in Valhall and Vingolf,' says Snorri. On the other hand he is a god of wisdom and cunning, knowing all things, and a god of poetry whom the skalds regard as the author of their art. So far as the historical evidence is strong enough to prove anything regarding Odin, it indicates that a belief in both of those aspects was really a part of the old religion. We have already seen that Adam of Bremen describes Odin as the war-god among the Swedes, and Snorri also says that the Swedes thought he often appeared to them before great battles; 'to some he gave victory, and some he invited to himself, and either lot was thought good.' This association of Odin with war, and the assignation to him of all those who were slain in battle, are very prominent in the mythical sagas, which may be accepted as representing a genuine tradition in this respect, however much the details may be due to later invention. In these sagas one also finds the connection of Odin with death by hanging, which appears in some of his poetic names, and must be regarded as a real belief. The purely historical evidence is, however, very limited. Perhaps the only mention of an actual offering to Odin is that found in the account of Earl Hákon's doings after he had, under compulsion, accepted Christianity in Denmark in 975. On leaving that country, he sailed round to the east coast of Sweden, landed there, and made a great sacrifice. 'Then two ravens came flying and croaked loudly, and the earl thought it certain that Odin had accepted the sacrifice, and that he would have success in fighting.' It is very probable, however, that sacrifices to this god were more common among the Danes and Swedes than among the Norwegians, and that this may account for the lack of reference to them in the Icelandic writings. That the belief in Valhall was a real one is clearly shown by one or two passages in the sagas. King Hákon the Good had been a Christian, though latterly he had not made his religion prominent, in order to avoid offending his heathen subjects. When he was killed in battle in 961, he was laid in the grave-mound with all his weapons and best array. 'They made such speeches at his burying as it was the custom of heathen men to make, and sent him off on the way to Valhall.' A poem on Hákon's death and his reception by Odin in Valhall, which was composed at the time by one of his skalds, gives a very fine expression to the belief, which is also the leading theme in an earlier poem on the death of King Eirík in 954. Even some who had not been killed in battle were apparently thought of as going to Odin in Valhall, if the passage in the saga of Gísli may be relied upon, in which Thorgrím is represented as saying, 'It is the custom to tie hell-shoes on men when they shall go to Valhall, and I will do that with Véstein' (who had been murdered in his bed). There is also a reference to the belief in Njál's saga, in the words of Högni, 'I intend to take the halbert to my father' (Gunnarr, who had been killed shortly before this), 'and let him have it to Valhall and bear it there at the weapon-thing.' The same saga also represents Earl Hákon in Norway, when he found his temple burned down, as saying, 'The man who has done this will be driven away from Valhall, and never get entrance there.' It is doubtful, however, whether much weight can be given to these passages. The old practice of beginning a battle by throwing a spear over the enemy is in some of the mythical sagas explained as a dedication of them to Odin, and it is possible that this idea may be correct. It is remarkable that in the Icelandic sources there is no clear evidence for a general worship of Odin in Norway or Iceland. In his account of the old festivals Snorri states that the first toast which went round was consecrated to Odin, and was drunk 'for victory and for power to their king.' And he also says that at the festival at Hladir in 952 Earl Sigurd 'consecrated the first toast to Odin.' The accuracy of Snorri's account has been questioned, but even if it is correct, it does not definitely establish Odin's position in popular belief. Among the Icelanders themselves there is nothing like the same evidence to show that Odin was generally held in esteem and veneration as there is in the case of Thor; and it is noticeable that in the few cases where a belief in, and reliance on, Odin are expressed, the speaker is usually a poet. Thus Egil Skallagrímsson, when he had suffered at the hands of King Eirík (about 934), expresses in a verse his wish that 'the gods and Odin' may be angry with the king: in the second half of the verse Frey and Njörd are also mentioned by name. The poet Hallfred, who accepted Christianity in Norway in 996, makes several references in his verses to his former worship of Odin, but in words which clearly indicate that his capacity of skald had much to do with this. When he was afterwards accused of being still a heathen, it was the possession of 'an image of Thor' which formed one of the charges against him. It is, however, stated that previous to their becoming Christians Hallfred and his companions made a vow 'to give much money to Frey if they reached Sweden, or to Thor and Odin if they got to Iceland.' Kjartan Olafsson is also made to speak of Thor and Odin together, and Odin (along with Freyja) is specified in the abusive verse by Hjalti Skeggjason (999), which led to his prosecution for blasphemy against the gods. On the other hand there is no mention in any saga of any temple, image, or special priest of Odin in any part of Iceland. That the attribution of the art of poetry to Odin, and his consequent position as the special god of poets, was no mere conventional figment of the skalds is best attested by Egil's poem on the loss of his sons. Towards the end of this the poet expresses his resentment against 'the lord of the spear,' in whom he had confidently trusted before he sent this loss upon him, and so destroyed the friendship between them. Now he has no pleasure in worshipping Odin, 'yet,' he adds, 'Mimir's friend has given me recompense for my woes: he gave me an art' (that of poetry) 'free from fault and stain.' As the above will show, there is a real difficulty in reconciling the historical statements as to the worship of Odin and Thor with the relative positions assigned to them in the old mythology. The explanation which seems to clear away this difficulty in the most satisfactory manner is the suggestion that Thor and Odin really belong to different stages in the development of Scandinavian religion. On this view Thor was originally the chief god, and to a certain extent continued to hold this position to the end. His supremacy, however, was in the later period of heathenism seriously threatened by the growing cult of Odin, which was at first foreign to the Scandinavian peoples, and was received by them from the South Germanic races. This would easily account for the seemingly greater popularity of Odin among the Danes and Swedes than among the Norwegians and Icelanders, to whom the new cult would be later in spreading. In this connection it may be noted that some of the poetic names for Odin, such as 'the friend of the Gauts,' 'Tyr of the Gauts' (as well as the simple _Gauti_ and _Gautr_), appear to indicate that his worship was associated with the people of that name in southern Sweden. It was in Gautland that the poet Hallfred was nearly sacrificed to Odin in 997, and here also in 1018 the poet Sigvat was refused admission to a farm where a sacrifice was taking place, because they 'were afraid of Odin's anger.' It may even be significant that Earl Hákon's sacrifice already mentioned was performed on the coast of Gautland. The ninth and tenth centuries were a period of new development and great changes within the Scandinavian countries. The Viking expeditions brought a large part of the population into direct contact with war and battle, while the former petty kings disappeared, or lost most of their importance, before strong rulers like Gorm in Denmark or Harald in Norway. In the courts of these new sovereigns there was a life and splendour previously unknown in the north, and under the royal favour the art of poetry flourished to a remarkable extent. It appears fairly certain that in these surroundings the cult of Odin found most favour, and that the conceptions of the god which meet us in the mythology were developed among men who found a pleasure both in fighting and in poetry, and who modelled their ideas of the warlike deity on the monarch to whose court they attached themselves. Odin was thus the god of the warrior, the poet, and the friend of kings, while Thor retained his former place in the hearts of those who still followed the old way of life in the secluded valleys of Norway or Iceland. Something of this distinctly appears in the figures of the two gods as they are presented in the old poems and legends. Odin bears all the stamp of the new life and culture about him; Thor is rather a sturdy yeoman of the old unpolished type. Odin is a ruler in whom knowledge and power are equally combined; Thor has little more to rely upon than his bodily strength. Even in small matters the contrast is marked: Odin lives by wine alone, while Thor eats the flesh of his goats and drinks the homely ale. Odin's weapon is the spear; Thor's is the more primitive hammer. It is to Odin that all the warriors go after death; Thor gets only the thralls. In some of the poems there is an obvious tendency to assign to Thor an undignified and even ludicrous part, which is strongly at variance with the veneration in which he was actually held, as we have seen above. It would, perhaps, be unsafe to attach very much importance to this, as it, is quite uncertain how far these poems can be accepted as evidence for religious beliefs. It is perhaps more significant that while writers like Snorri tell how Odin and various other gods (such as Njörd and Frey) came from the south-east into Denmark and Sweden, there is no similar account as regards Thor. In the historical period, too, there were distinguished families in Sweden and Norway whose genealogy was traced back to Odin and Frey, while no one claimed descent from Thor. Both of these facts may reasonably be regarded as supporting the view that Odin belongs to a later period in the history of Scandinavia than Thor, and some such explanation appears to be requisite to account for the striking differences in the traditional statements regarding the two chief gods of the old religion. CHAPTER II THE REMAINING GODS AND OTHER OBJECTS OF WORSHIP The third god mentioned by Adam of Bremen as worshipped at Upsala is (Fricco or) Frey, a name which appears to be identical with the Teutonic word represented in Old English by _fréa_, lord or king. Adam's statement is fully confirmed by the Icelandic sources, and there are also general references to the prevalence of the cult in Sweden.[3] In a somewhat legendary source it is even stated that an image of Frey, which was worshipped at Thrandheim in Norway, had been sent there from Sweden. The story of Gunnar Helming also makes mention of an image of Frey in Sweden which was carried about the country, and to which sacrifices were offered, but the value of the statement is very doubtful. Saxo Grammaticus, speaking of a sacrifice of black oxen offered to Frey by the mythical hero Hading, adds that this had continued to be a yearly custom, and 'the Swedes call it _Fröblod_,' _i.e._ Frey's sacrifice. The frequent occurrence of _Frey-_ in Swedish (and Danish) place-names has been already mentioned, and indicates the prevalence of the cult in both of these countries. The worship of Frey, however, must also have been very popular in Norway, from which it passed to Iceland with the early settlers. As late as 998 the men of Thrandheim are represented as refusing to break their image of Frey at the command of King Olaf, 'because we have long served him and he has done well by us. He often talked with us, and told us things to come, and gave us peace and plenty.' At the great festivals it was customary to drink to Frey (along with Njörd) in order to secure peace and prosperity. A talisman on which the image of Frey was 'marked in silver' is mentioned as having been owned by one of the petty kings of Norway about 872; this was given by King Harald to Ingimund, and tradition associated it in a mysterious way with the place where the latter finally settled in Iceland. In Iceland itself the traces of a popular cult of Frey are very clear, and more than one prominent person mentioned in the sagas bears the title of _Freys-goði_, or 'priest of Frey.' Of one of these, Thorgrím, brother-in-law of Gísli Súrsson, the saga says that 'he intended to hold a festival at the beginning of winter, and greet the winter, and sacrifice to Frey.' When Thorgrím was murdered, and had been laid in a grave-mound, it was noticed that snow never lay on the south or west sides of the mound, and the ground never froze there: 'and it was supposed that he was so highly esteemed by Frey for the offerings he made to him, that the god did not wish it to freeze between them.' Great attachment to this deity also appears in the story of Hrafnkel, who loved no other god more than Frey, and gave to him joint possession with himself of all his most valuable things. Among these was a horse, which on that account bore the name of _Freyfaxi_. Another Freyfaxi belonged to Brand in Vatnsdal, and most people believed that he had a religious reverence for the horse. Horses owned by Frey are also mentioned as existing in Thrandheim in the days of Olaf Tryggvason (about 996). At Eyafirth in Iceland there was a temple of Frey, which is mentioned several times in the saga of Víga-Glúm. Thorkel, says the story, went to Frey's temple, taking with him an old ox, and addressed the god thus: 'Frey,' said he, 'you have long been my confidant, and have received many gifts from me, and repaid me well. Now I give you this ox, so that it may come to pass that Glúm will leave this land as much under compulsion as I do now. And show me now some token whether you receive this or not.' Thereupon the ox bellowed, and fell down dead, and Thorkel then believed that Frey had accepted his gift. The saga also mentions that Frey would not allow outlaws to make his temple there a sanctuary. Glúm himself afterwards had a dream that many men had come there to see Frey. He asked who they were, and they said, 'We are your departed kinsfolk, and are making intercession with Frey that you may not be driven away from this ground; but Frey answers shortly and angrily, and recalls the ox that Thorkel gave him.' Then Glúm awoke, and had less liking for Frey all the rest of his life. According to the mythological accounts, Frey was the son of Njörd and brother of Freyja. He had great personal beauty in addition to his divine powers. 'He rules over rain and sunshine and the produce of the earth, and it is good to call on him for peace and plenty. He also has power over the prosperity of men.' He was believed to own the ship _Skíðblaðnir_, and to ride on the boar _Gullinbursti_ (Golden-bristle). This association of Frey with the boar appears also in the following passage of one of the mythical sagas (_Hervarar Saga_): 'King Heidrek sacrificed to Frey; he should give to him the largest boar that could be got. They considered it so holy, that over its bristles they took an oath about all important matters. That boar was sacrificed by way of an atonement; on Christmas eve it was led into the hall before the king, and men then laid their hands on its bristles and made their vows.' In another and earlier mention of the _sónargöltr_ (boar of atonement), however, it is not stated that the practice was connected with the cult of Frey, and in the absence of direct historical evidence the reality or significance of the rite remains doubtful. As mentioned above, the mythology regarded Frey as the son of Njörd (_Njörðr_), a god of whom very little is really known. It has been supposed that the _Nerthus_, mentioned by Tacitus as being worshipped in common by a number of Germanic tribes, is the same as Njörd, but the fact that Tacitus speaks of Nerthus as a goddess and explains the name as meaning Mother Earth, makes the identification a very doubtful one. According to Snorri, Njörd 'rules over the course of the wind and calms the sea and fire. He is to be called on for voyaging and fishing. He is so rich and wealthy that he may give lands and treasure to whom he will.' The worship of Njörd in Sweden and Norway is implied in the fact that places named after him are found in certain parts of these countries. When he is mentioned in the Icelandic writings, it is usually in conjunction with Frey. The practice of drinking the second toast to Njörd and Frey 'for peace and plenty' has been already mentioned. In the old heathen form of oath, taken by suitors and others at the legal assemblies, the deities invoked were 'Frey and Njörd and the Almighty God' (probably Thor). The two names are also combined by Egil in a verse (of 934) in which he prays that Frey and Njörd may be angry with King Eirík, while in one of his poems (about 962) he refers to them as the givers of wealth. With this may be compared the proverbial expression 'as rich as Njörd,' which occurs in old Icelandic. In one of Hallfred's verses (of 996) Frey and Njörd, Odin, Thor, and Freyja, are all mentioned together in contrast with God and Christ: in another (of the same time) the poet says, 'I am forced away from Njörd's offspring and made to pray to Christ.' These passages are sufficient to show that the cult of Njörd was closely connected with that of Frey, and make it probable that he was a deity of some importance even in the popular religion, but at best he remains a somewhat vague figure among the Scandinavian gods. Of the remaining gods known to us from the mythology there are only the faintest traces in the historical sources. Even the original war-god Ty was so completely supplanted by Odin, that no distinct evidence is to be found for his worship in any part of Scandinavia, although Snorri describes him as 'the bravest and stoutest-hearted of the gods,' who had a great share in deciding the victory in battle; 'on him it is good for men of valour to call.' His name was, however, retained in poetic appellations of men (sometimes even of Odin), and was used in the epithets _tý-hraustr_ for a very brave man, and _tý-spakr_ for a clever one. Still more uncertain is the question how far such deities as Heimdall, the wakeful warder of the gods, Bragi, the special god of poetry, and some others, really held a place in ordinary religious belief as distinct from the myth-creating fancy of the poets. Even such a striking mythological figure as the peace-maker Baldr, the most beautiful and lovable of all the gods, is strikingly ignored in all historical references to the old worship (the statements in Frithjof's saga being of no value in this respect). This is also the case with nearly all the goddesses, not excepting Frigg herself, the wife of Odin, the mother of Baldr, and the highest of them all, according to Snorri. It would appear, however, that Frigg had to some extent retired into the background before another goddess Freyja, the sister of Frey. We have already seen that when the days of the week received their Germanic names it was Frigg who was equated with the Roman Venus; but in the Scandinavian mythology it is Freyja, not Frigg, who is the goddess of love. Snorri describes Freyja as riding in a chariot drawn by two cats, 'and wheresoever she rides to battle, she has half the slain and Odin the other half.' This association of Freyja with Odin, which seems to imply that Frigg was almost on the point of being displaced by a rival goddess, also appears in the verse for which Hjalti Skeggjason was found guilty of blasphemy. It is implied, too, in a passage in Egil's saga, in which Thorgerd is represented as saying, 'I have had no supper, and will have none, until I come to Freyja. I know no better counsel for myself than my father's: I will not live after my father and brother.' The fact, too, that in the mythical sagas Freyja is almost the only goddess mentioned, indicates that her name had been remembered as one of special note in the old religion. To their chief deities the ancient Scandinavians gave the general name of _goð_ (equivalent to the English _god_), or _æsir_ (plural of _áss_). Both of these appellations were in common use as the first element in personal names, such as _Goðmundr_ (later _Guð-_) or _Ásmundr_. In the Edda, however, the _æsir_ are distinguished from another race of gods, the _vanir_, to whom Njörd and Frey belonged. Whether this distinction had any bearing on the popular religion does not appear. Other names which occur in the poetic or mythological sources are _regin_ or _rögn_, denoting their decisive or guiding powers, and _bönd_ or _höpt_, which imply a binding or constraining might; the goddesses are usually known by the name of _ásynjur_. The Edda speaks of twelve chief gods, but it may be doubted whether the number was ever definitely fixed, or that it was uniform in all parts of Scandinavia. In addition to the greater gods various supernatural powers were recognised by the Scandinavians as having influence for good or evil upon human fortunes, and to some extent at least worship was paid to these. This is clearest in the case of the _dísir_, female guardian spirits of individuals or families, to whom formal sacrifice was made under the name of _dísablót_. It is less certain that the belief in the _nornir_, or Fates, usually thought of as three sisters, can properly be regarded as belonging to religion, though its influence was evidently a powerful one. A belief in the _valkyrjur_, or war-maidens, who were present at battles and sometimes appeared to the combatants, naturally connects itself with the cult of Odin, but here also the evidence for a religious feeling accompanying the belief is lacking. It is not quite clear what place is to be assigned to the _landvættir_, who were supposed to watch over and protect various parts of the country, and whose presence and favour were reckoned to be of so much importance, that the old heathen law of Iceland (framed about 930) began with a provision relating to them. It enacted that 'men should not have ships with heads on them, or if they did, they should take them off before they came in sight of land, and not approach the shore with gaping heads or yawning snouts by which the _landvættir_ might be scared.' When Egil was incensed against King Eirík of Norway, he set up a _níðstöng_, or insulting post, and declared that he directed it not only against the king and queen, but also against 'those _landvættir_ who inhabit this land, that they may all go astray and none of them find his home, until they drive Eirík and Gunnhild out of the country.' Of the son of a settler in the south-west of Iceland it is said that second-sighted men saw the _landvættir_ accompany him when he went to the assembly, while they followed his brothers in hunting or fishing. The _landvættir_ were also credited with having appeared to a wizard whom the Danish king sent to Iceland about 980, and with having prevented him from landing on its shores. In view of all this, it is extremely probable that these supposed beings may have been actually worshipped, but of this there is no positive evidence. A somewhat mysterious place among the minor deities is held by two sisters named Thorgerd and Irpa, the former of whom also bears the epithet of _Hölgabrúðr_, apparently meaning 'Hölgi's bride.' All that is known of these is that they are alleged to have been worshipped by Earl Hákon of Norway, in the latter half of the tenth century. It is not improbable that their worship may have been confined to that part of Norway (in Thrandheim) in which Hákon lived, or that they were _dísir_ connected with the family to which he belonged. In the very legendary account of the battle which Hákon fought against the vikings of Jómsborg in 985, it is told that when he found the battle going against him 'he called upon his confidant Thorgerd, but she was angry with him and would not hear him.' It was only when propitiated by the sacrifice of Hákon's own son that she consented to aid him. She and her sister Irpa were then seen by second-sighted men fighting on the earl's side. The great reverence which the earl was believed to have felt for the sisters also appears strongly in the accounts relating to the images of them which he had in his temples; to that of Thorgerd he prostrated himself in prayer and made offerings of silver. Among the Scandinavians, as among other branches of the Aryan race, the practice of hero-worship appears to have been known. Adam of Bremen records it as occurring among the Swedes, who in the life of St. Ansgar are also said to have paid divine honours to one of their kings (Erik), assigning to him a temple and special priests. In Norway it is mentioned that offerings were made on the grave-mound of Olaf, at one time king in Vestfold; and probably some kind of religious feeling towards the deceased person is implied in the worship of grave-mounds, which was sufficiently prevalent to be specially forbidden in the early Christian law of Norway. One of the early settlers in the Færöes, Grím Kamban, is also said to have been worshipped after his death on account of his popularity. Not only human beings, but even animals, were perhaps occasionally worshipped by individuals. An old tradition related that a King Ögvald, in the west of Norway, chiefly worshipped a cow, and took it about with him wherever he went; and at a later and more historical date Hárek of Rein is said to have worshipped an ox. When Floki set out to look for Iceland he sacrificed to three ravens, which he then took on board with him that they might show him the way. It may also be noted that, if a very curious legend can be depended on, there were even traces of phallic worship in Norway as late as the days of Olaf the Saint (about 1020). An old account of the heathen period in Gotland (off the eastern coast of Sweden) begins with the words, 'before that time and long after men believed in groves and grave-mounds, holy places and enclosures, and in the heathen gods.' The prominence here given to sacred places appears to be in accordance with the facts recorded elsewhere. In the early Christian law of Norway, for example, cairns (_hörgar_) as objects of worship are condemned along with grave-mounds, and sacred cairns are also named in some Icelandic sources. In these also a single stone is sometimes mentioned as being worshipped, the most notable instance being that in _Kristni Saga_, where it is said, 'At Giljá,' in the north of Iceland, 'stood the stone that the family had worshipped, and alleged that their _ár_-man lived in it. Codran declared that he would not be baptized until he knew which was the more powerful, the bishop or the _ár_-man in the stone. The bishop then went to the stone, and chanted over it till it broke asunder. Then Codran considered that the _ár_-man was vanquished.' (The precise meaning of '_ár_-man' here is uncertain: usually the word means 'steward,' but in this case it may be derived from _ár_ in the sense of good or plentiful years.) Of an Icelandic settler in the tenth century it is also told that he 'took Flateydale up to the War-stones (_Gunnsteinar_), and worshipped them.' Close beside him was another settler who worshipped a grove, while one in another part of the island, who is described as a great sacrificer, paid his devotions to a waterfall, into which all remains of food were thrown. In connection with this worship of natural objects may be noticed the curious belief in Iceland that certain families passed after death into hills or hillocks in their district. This is told, for example, of Thorolf who settled Thorsness and had great reverence for the hill there: 'He called it Holy-fell, and believed that he would go there when he died, and all his kinsmen on the ness.' Even the kinsmen of Aud, who was a Christian, had great religious faith in some hillocks on which she had erected crosses: 'They believed that they should die into these hillocks, and Thord Gellir was led into them before his sons took their place among men, as is told in his saga.' CHAPTER III TEMPLES AND IMAGES In common with other peoples, the ancient Scandinavians erected special buildings in which to worship their gods, and in which their images were placed. These temples (called _hof_, _goða-hof_, _goða-hús_, and _blót-hús_) must not be thought of as in any way comparable to those erected by the more cultured Aryan races, such as the Greeks and Romans. It is true that Adam of Bremen describes that at Upsala in Sweden, which he calls _nobilissimum templum_, as being 'all of gold,' while a note to the passage says that it was surrounded by 'a golden chain hanging on the pinnacles of the building, and seen glittering afar by those who approach the place'; but it is very doubtful how far this description is trustworthy. In any case the Upsala temple would naturally be much superior to those in less central localities; from other indications it appears to have been specially well endowed with landed and other property. Unfortunately there is no evidence from which any general idea of the heathen temples in Sweden and Denmark can be obtained. In Norway they were, like the ordinary houses, constructed of timber, and in many cases were probably of small size and insignificant appearance. Mention has already been made of the temple of Thor in the island of Mostr, which Thorolf took down and carried off to Iceland when he went to settle there. The same thing is told of Thorhadd, who was priest at Mærin in Thrandheim; he also took down the temple, and carried with him the temple-mould and the chief pillars. Some of the buildings, no doubt, may have been more imposing, and even to some extent furnished with costly ornaments. When Olaf Tryggvason gave orders to burn down Earl Hákon's temple at Hladir, 'he made them take all the treasure and ornaments out of the temple and off the images of the gods.' A large gold ring was also removed from the temple door, but it afterwards proved to be only brass internally. It may also be noted that various accounts of temples speak of them as being lighted by glass windows 'so that there was no shadow anywhere in them.' Beside the great temple at Upsala there was a sacred grove, and the evidence of place-names shows that similar groves existed elsewhere in Sweden and Denmark: as regards Norway and Iceland there is no positive information on this head. Of the temple which Thorolf erected at his Icelandic home on Thorsness an interesting description is given in _Eyrbyggja Saga_, which is thus the chief source for what knowledge we have on the subject. It is described as a great house, with doors on the side-walls, nearer to one end of it than the other. In from these doors stood the chief pillars, and in these there were nails, which were known by the name of _regin_-nails (_regin_ was one of the names for the gods, but its precise meaning here is not certain). The part of the building lying inward from these pillars was a great sanctuary. At the inner end there was a smaller building 'of the same form as the choir in churches is now'; and here, in the middle of the floor, stood a pedestal of the nature of an altar. On this lay a ring weighing two ounces, on which all oaths had to be sworn. It was the duty of the temple-priest to wear this ring on his hand at all assemblies. On the pedestal stood also the sacrificial bowl (_hlaut-bolli_), and in this were placed the sacrificial twigs (_hlaut-teinar_), by means of which the blood of the sacrifice (_hlaut-blóð_) was sprinkled upon those present at the ceremony. 'This was the blood from those animals that were offered to the gods.' Round about this altar the images of the gods were arranged. All those living in the district had to pay toll to the temple, and were bound to attend the temple-priest on all expeditions, 'as thingmen are now bound to attend their chiefs.' On the other hand, the priest had to keep up the temple and not allow it to fall into decay, and to hold in it the sacrificial feasts. In the late and fictitious _Kjalnesinga Saga_ there is given a similar description of a temple, which may possibly have some basis in local tradition. It is described as having been a hundred and twenty feet long, and sixty broad. At the inner end was a circular annex, the shape of which suggested a cap or hood; this had windows, and was hung with tapestry. Thor was the chief god there, and stood in the middle, with the other gods on each side of him. In front of them was an altar with an iron plate on the top, on which a fire was kept constantly burning: 'they called that hallowed fire.' The silver ring on which oaths were sworn, and the bowl for the sacrificial blood, are also mentioned, but the account of them may be derived from the passage in _Eyrbyggja Saga_ already quoted. In a much more reliable source, _Landnámabók_, there occurs the following passage relating to the ring and its use. 'A ring of two ounces or more in weight had to lie on the altar in each chief temple. Each priest had to wear the ring on his arm at all assemblies over which he himself presided, having previously reddened it in the blood of the animal which he himself had sacrificed there. Every man who required to do legal business at a law court had first to take an oath on that ring, and name two or more witnesses. "I name [M. and N.] witnesses herein," he had to say, "that I take an oath on the ring, a lawful oath,--so help me Frey and Njörd and the Almighty God, as I shall pursue (or defend) this suit, or bear witness, or give verdict or judgment, according to what I know to be most right and true and in accordance with the law."' In general agreement with this is the account given in _Víga-Glúms Saga_: 'That man who was to take a temple-oath took in his hand a silver ring which was reddened in the blood of the sacrificed ox, and which had to weigh not less than three ounces.' In taking the oath, Glúm is represented as using the words, 'I take a temple-oath on the ring, and I say to the god,' etc.; here the names of Frey and Njörd are omitted.[4] While Iceland was being colonised from Norway, the place and number of the temples would depend on the religious zeal of the settlers in the various districts, but when a fixed constitution was adopted in the year 930 special regulations were made with reference to this. 'The land was divided into quarters, and there were to be three places of assembly in each quarter, and three chief temples in each assembly-district. Men who were noted for intelligence and just dealing were selected to have charge of the temples; these had to appoint the law-courts at the assemblies, and to superintend the legal proceedings there. Each man had to give toll to the temple, as they now give toll to the church.' References to the payment of this tax are not infrequent in the sagas, and one of the results of the preaching of Christianity by Thorvald and Bishop Frederic in 981-985 was that in the north of Iceland 'many men abandoned sacrifices and broke their idols, and some would not pay the temple-tax.' We also meet with such remarks as, 'the men of Geitland had to maintain half of the temple along with Tungu-Odd.' The chief temples were thus legally endowed religious buildings, but it would appear that there were others which were the private property of individuals, and no doubt many of those which were entitled to legal support were originally erected by the more prominent of the settlers. An interesting case of temple endowment is that recorded of Grím Geitskor, who travelled over all Iceland to find the most suitable spot for holding the yearly assembly. For his trouble he received a 'penny' from every man in the island, and this money he gave to the temples. One of the early settlers in the east of Iceland is recorded as having taken formal possession of an unoccupied piece of land for the behoof of a temple which he had built there. As has already been mentioned, the inner part of the temple was more particularly the sacred place, where stood the altar and the images of the gods. The main part of the building served as a kind of hall, in which were held the entertainments which followed upon the sacrifices, and at which the flesh of the slain animals was eaten. As in the ordinary halls, there were fires in the middle of the floor and seats down each side. In some of the sagas dealing with prehistoric times in Sweden mention is made of a _dísar-sal_ (in connection with the worship of the _dísir_: see p. 33). What relation this had to the usual temple is not clear: it has been supposed to be no more than another name for the temple-hall, but this is not at all certain. The temple being a holy place, there were naturally certain restrictions attached to it, of which a prominent one was that no weapons were to be taken inside it. This is clearly illustrated by an incident in _Vatnsdæla Saga_, where Ingimund enters the temple first, and Hrafn the Norwegian follows him, wearing his sword. Then Ingimund turned to him, and said, 'It is not the custom to carry weapons in the temple, and you will come under the wrath of the gods unless you make amends for it.' When Olaf Tryggvason entered the temple of Mærin in Thrandheim, he carried a gold-mounted staff, but his own men and those belonging to the district were weaponless. Another offence which is frequently mentioned is that of slaying a man in a holy place; in this connection, however, the regular word used is not _hof_ but _vé_, which has a more general meaning. One who committed this offence incurred the penalty of outlawry, and was designated by the name of _vargr í véum_, 'wolf in holy places.' The same view of bloodshed as a crime against the sanctity of a holy place is illustrated in the cases of Thorsness and Stödvar-firth in Iceland, where the killing of anything was forbidden. In the case of Thorsness it was decided, after a battle had taken place there, that it was defiled by the blood that had fallen on it, and 'was now no more holy than other places.' Along with the timber-buildings known as _hof_, there is frequent mention, both in the historical and legendary sources, of other sacred places called _hörgar_. In its simplest form the _hörg_ was evidently a kind of stone-altar or sacrificial cairn standing in the open air; in modern Norwegian and Icelandic the word is applied to a mountain-top. This is most clearly indicated by the words of _Hyndlu-ljóð_, where Freyja says of Ottar, 'He made me a _hörg_, piled up with stones; now these stones are turned to glass. He reddened it in the fresh blood of oxen. Ottar always believed in the goddesses.' In contrast to the burning of temples, the usual expression for the destroying of _hörgar_ is 'breaking,' which also indicates a structure of stones. In some cases, however, the name of _hörg_ seems to be applied to something more approaching the nature of the _hof_; this not only appears to be implied in the use of 'timbered,' which occurs in at least two poetic passages, but is also suggested by the wording of the old Norwegian law, 'if a man raises a mound (_haug_), or makes a house, and calls it a _hörg_,' etc. The stone altars or cairns would naturally be more primitive places of worship than the temples, but they continued in use along with these down to the disappearance of the old religion. The altar in the temple, indeed, was no doubt the representative of the earlier and ruder one in the open air, for both are spoken of as being 'reddened' with the blood of the sacrifice. It has been already made clear that the gods worshipped were represented in the temples by images, which in the historical accounts are called by the names of _líkneski_ ('likeness') and _skurð-goð_ ('carved gods,' probably an epithet applied by Christians). The description given by Adam of Bremen of those which stood in the temple at Upsala has already been quoted (p. 4); here it is only necessary to add that in no other writing of historical value is there any mention of an image of Odin. With Thor the case is very different. Another image of this deity is mentioned by Adam himself, who relates that about the year 1030 an English missionary in Sweden found it standing in the assembly-place of the heathens. In his religious zeal he smashed it with an axe, and was at once put to death by the angry worshippers. Images of Thor are also frequently referred to in the Icelandic sagas. In the year 998, when King Olaf Tryggvason was christianising Norway, he entered the temple at Mærin in Thrandheim, 'and when the king came where the gods were, there sat Thor, adorned with gold and silver, and was most honoured of all the gods.' In the fullest account of this incident it is stated that the image was seated in a splendid chariot, to which were harnessed two goats beautifully carved out of wood; both chariot and goats were on wheels, and the cords attached to the goats' horns were of silver. Thor in his chariot is also mentioned as one of the images in the temple belonging to Earl Hákon and Gudbrand in the Dales, which is described in _Njál's Saga_. There is no mention of the chariot, however, in the account of this image given in connection with King Olaf's visit to the Dales in 1021. There it is said to have been 'of great stature, and hollow inside, with the hammer in his hand; under him there is a kind of pedestal or platform, on which he stands when he is outside; and on him there is no lack of gold and silver.' This image was carried out to the place where the people of the district held their meeting with Olaf, and those already assembled there paid homage to it. It was set down in the middle of the ground, and on one side of it sat the heathens, and on the other the king and his followers. It is also related that at the battle of Svöldr in the year 1000, Earl Eirík had an image of Thor in the prow of his ship, but threw it aside and put a cross in its place when he found his men unable to board Olaf Tryggvason's vessel. Mention has already been made (pp. 7-8) of the likeness of Thor carved on the chief pillars of the temple in Mostr, and no doubt similar representations of the god were not uncommon. In that part of the story of Thormod the poet which takes place in Greenland, about 1027, a large chair is described as having on its back an image of Thor with his hammer. That some at least of the other gods were similarly represented in the temples may be assumed as beyond doubt, but the evidence on this point is very scanty. It seems likely that there was an image of Frey at Thrandheim, and it is highly probable that this god would be largely figured in Sweden, although the texts in which there is mention of this are of a very legendary character. It is doubtful, also, whether any reliance can be placed on the passage in _Droplaugarsona Saga_, which describes Frey and Thor as sitting on the lower bench in a temple, while Frigg and Freyja occupied the higher. More historical, perhaps, is the image of Frey which ornamented the talisman given by King Harald to Ingimund (p. 25). In the traditions connected with Earl Hákon there are several references to an image of Thorgerd. The earl is related to have taken Sigmund Brestisson to a secluded building in the forest, in which there were 'a number of gods.' At the inner end of the house was the image of a woman splendidly dressed. What follows is of a legendary character, but the building and image appear again in the story of Olaf Tryggvason, who not only stripped Thorgerd of all her 'gold and silver and good clothes,' but dragged the image at a horse's tail, knocked it to pieces with a club, and finally burned it along with that of Frey. In _Njál's Saga_, Earl Hákon and Gudbrand are said to have had a great temple in the Dales in which there were images of Thorgerd and Irpa; the former was as tall as a full-grown man, and had a large gold ring on her arm and a hood on her head. These accounts may have a foundation in fact, but that given in _Harðar Saga_ of a temple in Iceland with an image of Thorgerd is probably mere invention, perhaps an echo of the passage in _Njál's Saga_. CHAPTER IV CEREMONIES AND MINISTERS OF RELIGION With regard to the rites of the old Scandinavian religion a considerable amount of information has been preserved, although mainly relating to one part of the subject, the offering of sacrifice. It is clear that this was the central feature in the worship of the gods, and the great means towards propitiating their favour or averting their displeasure. Hence the verb _blóta_, which was the distinctive word for worshipping the heathen gods, very frequently (if not usually) implies the accompaniment of sacrifice; and the noun _blót_ similarly means either the act of worship or that of sacrifice. In the case of the verb, the object of worship stands in the accusative case, the thing sacrificed in the dative, the original sense being 'to worship (the gods) with something.' In this killing of living things as an offering to the divine powers lay one of the most obvious differences between the old religion and the new, and it is consequently one which holds a prominent place in the accounts of the struggle between heathenism and Christianity. One of the first objects aimed at by the kings who adopted the new faith was the suppression of the practice in every form, while the adherents of the old religion clung to it tenaciously as long as they could. Even after Christianity was the established religion of Norway, it was still thought necessary to remind the people that all _blót_ were forbidden, whether to 'the heathen gods, mounds, or sacred cairns.' Here and in other passages where the word is similarly employed, it may be assumed that sacrifices are to be thought of as an essential part of the heathen worship. Sacrifice might be offered either by individuals on their own account, or by some prominent man on behalf of the community. It was, indeed, the duty of the latter to 'keep up the sacrifices,' on which the public peace and prosperity were believed largely to depend. The king as head of his people was especially bound to maintain this religious rite, and the adoption of Christianity by the Norwegian kings naturally brought them into direct collision with the national feeling on this point. When King Hákon in 952 proposed that his subjects should worship Christ, give up the heathen gods and the sacrifices to them, and keep holy each seventh day, he was met by the reply that they desired him rather to follow the custom of his father, and 'sacrifice for peace and plenty to them.' On the other hand, the importance attached to the practice by the more religious among the people is shown in the case of Loft the Old, who emigrated to Iceland from Gaular in Norway. He 'went abroad every third summer on his own account and that of his uncle Flosi, to sacrifice at that temple in Gaular of which his mother's father, Thorbjörn, had been the custodian.' The extent to which the common people shared in the expense attendant on such sacrifices seems to have varied according to circumstances. In some cases the offering was a collective one; in others some great man showed his wealth and munificence by providing it entirely from his own resources. Probably the latter course was somewhat exceptional, as Snorri says of Earl Sigurd, that 'he did a thing that was widely famed: he made a great sacrificial feast at Hladir, and stood all the expense of it himself.' This he confirms by citing a verse from a poem in praise of Sigurd, composed by the Icelandic poet Kormak. Otherwise, he states, 'it was the old custom, when there was to be a sacrifice, that all the householders should come to the place where the temple was, and bring there the provisions they would require while the festival lasted.' According to Adam of Bremen, too, the great festival which was celebrated every nine years at Upsala was maintained by contributions from the whole Swedish people, and attendance at it was compulsory; even those who had adopted Christianity were only exempted on payment of a fine. The national character of the festival is also certified by Snorri, who calls it the 'chief _blót_,' and says it was held to obtain peace and victory for the Swedish king. The actual sacrifice consisted in the killing of various animals, usually oxen, horses, sheep, or swine, but on special occasions even human beings were offered to the gods. At the great Upsala festival, according to Adam's account, nine male animals of each kind were offered, as well as men; and a Christian eye-witness reported having seen seventy-two carcases of slaughtered men and beasts (dogs and horses) suspended together from the trees of the sacred grove adjoining the temple. Whether this custom of hanging up the bodies of the offerings was practised elsewhere in Scandinavia is unknown, but the connection between Odin and death by hanging makes it probable that it was more widely known than appears. In Denmark also human victims were offered along with animals; according to Thietmar's chronicle the great gathering in this country took place at Lejre (near Roskilde in Sjælland) every nine years, in the month of January. The sacrifice here consisted of ninety-nine men and as many horses, dogs, and cocks (the latter being offered in place of hawks). How the victims were selected or obtained is not stated; but it is probable that they were usually captives taken in war, criminals, or thralls. In Sweden, indeed, strangers appear to have run some risk of being selected as victims; in 997 the Icelandic poet Hallfred nearly met with this fate. In early times, however, the Swedes were credited with having burned one of their kings in his own house as an offering to Odin, in order to dispel a famine which they believed was due to his slackness in maintaining the sacrifices. One of the early kings was also reported to have offered up nine of his sons in succession to Odin, to obtain long life for himself. In an account of the heathen period in the isle of Gotland, which is given in _Guta Saga_, it is said that 'they sacrificed their sons and daughters and their cattle. All the land had its highest sacrifices with folk (=human beings), as also had each third (of the country) by itself; but the smaller districts had lesser sacrifices with cattle.' In Norway and Iceland human sacrifices appear to have been more exceptional, and only resorted to in extreme cases. The usual nature of the victims is clearly indicated by the words assigned to King Olaf Tryggvason in 998, when he found his subjects obstinate in their determination to hold the midsummer _blót_. He then threatened 'to make it the greatest kind of sacrifice that is in use, and offer up men; and I will not choose thralls or criminals, but will select the most distinguished men to give to the gods.' At the very crisis of the conflict between paganism and Christianity in Iceland, in the year 1000, the adherents of the old religion resolved to sacrifice two men out of each quarter, and 'called upon the heathen gods not to let Christianity overrun the country.' Then Hjalti and Gizur held a meeting of the Christians, and said that they would also make an offering of as many men. 'The heathens,' they said, 'sacrifice the worst men, and cast them over rocks or cliffs; but we shall choose the best men, and call it a gift for victory to our Lord Jesus Christ.' Various methods appear to have been in use besides that mentioned here; at Thorsness, in the west of Iceland, tradition long pointed out the 'doom-ring,' in which men had been adjudged for sacrifice, and the stone within it--called _Thor's stone_--on which they were killed by being broken, 'and the stain of blood is still to be seen on it.' Another source speaks of human victims as having been sunk in a fen close to the temple on Kjalarness, which is supported by Adam of Bremen's statement that near the temple of Upsala was a fountain in which 'a living man' was immersed. A 'sacrificial pit' is also mentioned in _Vatnsdæla Saga_, where one Thorolf was believed to sacrifice both men and cattle. That in exceptional cases the victim may have been of higher standing than the thrall or criminal is possible enough; as late as 985 Earl Hákon in Norway is credited with having given his young son as an offering to Thorgerd, when he prayed to her for victory over the vikings of Jómsborg. In other cases, such as that of Hallstein, who 'gave his son to Thor' in order that the god might send him pillars for his house, the language is ambiguous, and may imply dedication rather than sacrifice. When the sacrifice consisted of animals which might be used for human food, it was apparently only the blood which was regarded as belonging to the gods. To this was given the name of _hlaut_, and it has already been stated (p. 41) that special bowls were kept to receive it in. It was then smeared or sprinkled by means of twigs, not only upon the altars and the walls of the temples (both outside and in), but also upon the assembled people. The flesh was then boiled in large pots over the fires which burned in the middle of the temple, and was eaten by the worshippers, after being consecrated by the chief man present. A prominent feature, at least of the more important festivals, was the use of horse-flesh for this purpose--a practice so intimately associated with heathenism that its abandonment was strictly prescribed to those who accepted Christianity. This appears in the strongest light in the case of Hákon the Good, who was finally forced to appease his heathen subjects by eating some pieces of horse-liver. In Iceland, however, it was permitted for a few years after the new faith was publicly adopted. When the drinking began, the horns of ale were carried round the fire and solemnly dedicated to various gods. The first _full_ or toast was assigned to Odin (see p. 18), and was drunk to obtain victory and power for the king. Next came that of Njörd and Frey, for peace and plenty. 'After that it was the custom of many to drink Bragi's _full_. Men also drank to those of their kinsmen who had been famous, and that was called _minni_.' It is possible that this account may be imperfect or inexact, as another passage mentions Thor as well as Odin in this connection. This is a story of how St. Martin appeared in a dream to King Olaf Tryggvason, and said to him: 'It has been the custom of men in this country, as well as elsewhere among heathen people, that ale is given to Thor and Odin, and toasts are assigned to the Æsir, when there is drinking or feasting in common.' The saint then suggests that in place of the old gods Olaf should substitute Martin himself, along with God and His saints. This was actually what took place in Norway and Iceland, a fact which shows how strong a hold on popular feeling the practice must have had. In the early Christian law of Norway it was enjoined that ale was to be brewed for certain festivals, such as All Hallowmas and Christmas, 'and that ale shall be consecrated to Christ and Saint Mary _for peace and plenty_.' Omission to do so was punishable by a fine to the bishop. In place of drinking to the heathen gods and their departed kinsmen, men now drank the _minni_ of Christ, of Mary, of St. Martin, St. Olaf, or other saints, and even of the Holy Ghost, and this practice continued to be observed at wedding-feasts in Iceland as late as the seventeenth century. The great festivals took place especially at three seasons in the year. One of these was at the close of autumn (about the middle of October) 'to greet the winter.' At mid-winter came the festival of Yule (_Jól_ or _Júl_), originally held in the middle of January, but afterwards altered to correspond with Christmas. The third was held at the end of the winter (about the middle of April) 'to greet the summer.' The precise time of each, however, may have varied in different parts of Scandinavia; Adam of Bremen, for instance, represents the great Upsala festival as taking place about the spring equinox, while Snorri places it a little earlier. As late as 1020 these three festivals were still kept up by the majority of the inhabitants in the district of Thrandheim in Norway, and must have been maintained in Sweden for nearly a century later. The return which the worshippers hoped to obtain from the gods for the sacrifices offered was mainly good seasons, abundant crops, peaceful times, and victory in war if it arose. To some extent each festival appears to have had a special object, but the statements on this point are not quite in agreement with each other. No doubt the desires of the worshippers were expressed in formal prayers offered up by the one who presided over the sacrifices, but no specimen of these has been preserved. Adam of Bremen asserts that in the sacrifices at Upsala use was made of many incantations of an odious character, but of the precise nature of these there is no indication. The drinking of the various toasts was certainly accompanied by formal speeches, of which those used in Iceland at a later date are probably the Christianised representatives. It is noteworthy that in most of the references to these great religious festivals there is no statement that the sacrifices were offered to any particular deity, the usual expression being simply 'to sacrifice for peace,' etc., or 'to the gods.' The same vagueness sometimes appears when more private offerings are mentioned; it is simply said that the person 'performed a great sacrifice.' It may naturally be assumed, however, that the deity appealed to would vary according to the boon desired, or the preferences of the worshipper. Adam of Bremen, in fact, states that in event of pestilence or famine the offering was made to Thor; in case of war it was given to Odin; while Frey was the recipient on the occasion of a wedding. The Swedes are also said to have sacrificed to Frey for peace and plenty, and Thorgrim in Iceland honoured the same god at the beginning of winter (p. 26). Earl Hákon's sacrifice to Odin has already been mentioned (p. 16), and is in agreement with Adam of Bremen's statement. Among the ancient Scandinavians there was no distinct priestly caste. The duty of presiding over religious ceremonies, and of acting as custodian of sacred places, was attached to persons who had also temporal authority of a more or less extensive nature. Highest of all stood the king, on whose attitude towards the gods and their worship the prosperity of his people was believed largely to depend. Next to him came the earls, who in this as in other respects acted as the representatives of the king. Among the titles of honour given by the poets to both kings and earls are those of 'ruler' or 'guardian' of sanctuaries. Finally each district had its recognised religious head in one or other of its most prominent men, whose power as a chief was naturally augmented in no slight degree by his position as priest. The holder of this double office appears in the Icelandic writings under the name of _goði_ (also _hof-goði_), a derivative of _goð_ 'god(s)'; it may be assumed that the name was also known in Norway, and its existence in Denmark is certified by its occurrence in Runic inscriptions. The sagas contain numerous references to these priestly chiefs, who are sometimes named after the god whom they specially worshipped (as _Freys-goði_), sometimes after the place where they resided (as _Tungu-goði_), or after those whose religious head they were (as _Ljósvetninga-goði_). By the older constitution of Iceland the number of recognised _goðar_ was thirty-nine, distributed pretty equally in the various parts of the island. The office itself was, at least in Iceland, known by the name of _goð-orð_, and was regarded as an item of personal property, which might even be shared by more than one person, so that we find such statements as 'he had a third of the _goð-orð_ with Thorgeir.' The right to the office was hereditary, and could also be transferred by one person to another, and this was frequently done, especially when the rightful holder was to be absent from the country for a time. In one case the claimant to a _goð-orð_ is described as performing a ceremony which may have been a usual accompaniment of such transference. He 'said, "we shall redden ourselves in the _goði's_ blood in the old fashion," and killed a ram, in the blood of which he reddened his hands, and claimed Arnstein's _goð-orð_.' The _goði_ being as much a chief as a priest, the name did not disappear with the adoption of Christianity into Iceland, though it naturally lost its religious associations and thenceforward denoted only the recognised leader in the various districts of the island. It appears also that women to some extent acted as priestesses, and in Iceland, at least, these were designated by the name of _gyðja_, or _hof-gyðja_, a feminine form corresponding to _goði_ and _hof-goði_. In one passage where a Thord _Freys-goði_ is spoken of, a female relative of his is also mentioned as being _hof-gyðja_. When the missionary Thorvald was preaching Christianity at Hvamm in the west of Iceland about 984, a certain Fridgerd 'was meanwhile in the temple and performed sacrifice, and each of them could hear the other's words'; then Thorvald made a verse in which he gives the name of _gyðja_ to Fridgerd. Other women are also mentioned with this appellation, but the precise place of the priestess, and her relation to the priest, remains somewhat obscure. That the public worship of the gods was thus in the hands of the most prominent men in the community, and not merely of a separate priestly class, indicates that the Scandinavian peoples as a whole were really interested in their religion. This is also shown by the thoroughly popular character of the great sacrificial feasts. In earlier times it is probable that the belief in the native gods was strong even to a degree of fanaticism, of which traces are still found in the historic period, especially in Sweden and in the more northerly districts of Norway. The words of Gudbrand already quoted (p. 10) no doubt express a genuine religious attitude common to many worshippers of the Æsir, and similar confessions of faith are to be met with in other accounts. When King Hákon wished his subjects to adopt Christianity, 'and believe in one God, Christ the son of Mary, and abandon all sacrifices and the heathen gods,' there arose a great murmur in the assembly, and the speaker who replied protested against the idea 'that we should abandon that faith which our fathers have had before us ... and yet this faith has served us well.' Instances have already been given of the strong attachment which individuals had for certain gods, whom they regarded as their dear and faithful friends, consulted them in all their difficulties, and gave them joint-ownership of their possessions. Others again were zealous in erecting temples and maintaining sacrifices, such as Hall in Thorskafirth, who 'raised a great temple, because Ulf,' the chief man of the district, 'was no sacrificer.' By such men the encroachments of Christianity were naturally regarded with resentment and dismay. At the Althing in Iceland in 996 it was decided that any one blaspheming the gods should be prosecuted by a near kinsman, and for one to be a Christian was reputed a disgrace to all the kindred. Four years later, while the adoption of Christianity was being debated at the Althing, a volcanic eruption was reported from the neighbourhood, whereupon the heathens said, 'It is no wonder that the gods are angry at such talk.' In 1020 the men of Thrandheim held sacrifices after the old fashion, drinking to the gods, killing cattle and horses, and reddening the altars with the blood; this was done on account of a great dearth in that part of Norway, 'and it seemed clear to all men that the gods were angry because they had turned to Christianity.' So late as the twelfth century the people in some parts of Sweden were still inclined to throw off such Christianity as they had, and revert to the sacrificial rites of the old religion. On the other hand, it is clear that even in the ninth and tenth centuries the worship of the Æsir was gradually losing its hold. Some of the early settlers in Iceland were either wholly or partly Christian; among the latter were, for example, Helgi the Lean, who believed in both Thor and Christ, and the kinsmen of the Hebridean Örlyg, who 'believed in Columcille, though they were not baptized.' A belief 'in their own might and strength' was all the faith that some of the Scandinavians of this period would own to. Many who came into intercourse with southern peoples accepted the _prima signatio_, or first sign of adoption into the Christian Church. From at least the beginning of the ninth century zealous missionary efforts were made by the Church to supplant Thor and his hammer by Christ and the cross; while, on the other hand, the Scandinavian religion, however strong its hold upon its adherents, never succeeded in spreading beyond its original limits. The combination of all these facts explains the comparatively rapid manner in which the old faith finally succumbed before the new, leaving behind it only the imperfect traces which have been summed up in these pages, and a mythology which has a profound interest of its own and is inextricably associated with the history of Old Norwegian and Icelandic poetry. SELECTED WORKS The chief works in English in which information on ancient Scandinavian mythology and religion may be found are the following:-- G. VIGFUSSON and F. Y. POWELL.--_Corpus Poeticum Boreale; the Poetry of the Old Northern Tongue._ 2 vols. Oxford, 1883. B. THORPE.--_The Edda of Sæmund the Learned._ London, 1866. G. W. DASENT.--_The Prose or Younger Edda._ Stockholm, 1842. I. A. BLACKWELL.--_The Prose Edda_ (in Mallet's _Northern Antiquities_). R. B. ANDERSON.--_The Younger Edda; also called Snorre's Edda or the Prose Edda._ Chicago, 1880. R. B. ANDERSON.--_Norse Mythology; or the Religion of our Forefathers._ Chicago, 1875. C. F. KEARY.--_Mythology of the Eddas._ London, 1882. (Miss) W. FARADAY.--_The Divine Mythology of the North._ London, 1902. (No. 12 of Nutt's _Popular Studies in Mythology_, etc.) GRIMM'S _Teutonic Mythology_, translated by Stallybrass. 3 vols. London, 1880-83. RYDBERG'S _Teutonic Mythology_, translated by R. B. Anderson. London, 1889. S. LAING.--_The Heimskringla, or Chronicle of the Kings of Norway._ London, 1844. R. B. ANDERSON.--_Snorro's Heimskringla, or the Sagas of the Norse Kings._ (Revised edition of the preceding.) London, 1889. W. MORRIS and E. MAGNUSSON.--_The Heimskringla, or the Stories of the Kings of Norway._ 4 vols. London, 1893-1906. (Vols. iii.-vi. of the _Saga Library_.) J. SEPHTON.--_The Saga of King Olaf Tryggwason._ London, 1895. (Vol i. of Nutt's _Northern Library_.) W. MORRIS and E. MAGNUSSON.--_The Eyrbiggia Saga._ London, 1892. (Vol. ii. of the _Saga Library_.) G. VIGFUSSON and F. Y. POWELL.--_Origines Islandicæ._ 2 vols. Oxford, 1905. MALLET'S _Northern Antiquities_. (Bohn's Library.) London, 1847. P. DU CHAILLU.--_The Viking Age._ 2 vols. London, 1889. Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press. FOOTNOTES [1] Based upon the Latin discourse _De correctione rusticorum_, by Martin of Bracara, who died in 580. [2] This discrepancy between the Roman and Scandinavian myths is also noticed by Saxo Grammaticus. [3] Compare the vow of Hallfred and his companions mentioned on p. 19. [4] In the ceremony of entering into 'foster-brotherhood,' each person swore to avenge the other, 'and named all the gods as witnesses.' TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES Page ii, period added (JUDAISM.) Page 19, "Hjalfi" changed to "Hjalti" (verse by Hjalti Skeggjason) Page 65, "_hofgoði_" changed to "_hof-goði_" (also _hof-goði_) 
14726	----	Proofreading Team. This ebook was produced using images from the University of Georgia Libraries. THE ELDER EDDAS OF SAEMUND SIGFUSSON. _Translated from the Original Old Norse Text into English_ BY BENJAMIN THORPE, AND THE YOUNGER EDDAS OF SNORRE STURLESON. _Translated from the Original Old Norse Text into English_ BY I.A. BLACKWELL. HON. RASMUS B. ANDERSON, LL.D., EDITOR IN CHIEF. J. W. BUEL, Ph.D., MANAGING EDITOR. PUBLISHED BY THE NORROENA SOCIETY, LONDON STOCKHOLM COPENHAGEN BERLIN NEW YORK 1906 [Illustration KING GUNTHER.] (_After a painting by B. Guth_.) Gunnar, Gunther, or Gunter, King of Burgundy, was probably a real personage of the troubled times with which his name is associated--a period distinguished as much for heroic characters as for tragic events. Gunther represents the best type of kinghood of his age; a man swayed by his affections rather than by ambition, who scrupled at misdeeds, yet yielded to the mastering passions of love; one whose instincts were loyalty to friends and country, and who shrank from cruelties to gain his ends, but who fell a victim to woman's fascinations. History accordingly praises him more for a lover than for a sovereign. LIST OF PHOTOGRAVURES. (ELDER AND YOUNGER EDDAS.) Frontispiece--Gunnar (Gunther) Page Siegfried Awakens Brynhild 159 Death of Atli 247 A Feast in Valhalla 331 CONTENTS. THE ELDER EDDAS OF SAEMUND. Page Preface by the Translator ix Introduction to the Voluspa xv The Vala's Prophecy 1 The Lay of Vafthrudnir 9 The Lay of Vegtam, or Baldur's Dream 26 The High One's Lay 29 Odin's Rune Song 44 The Lay of Hymir 48 The Lay of Thrym, or the Hammer Recovered 53 The Lay of the Dwarf Alvis 57 The Lay of Harbard 63 The Journey, or Lay of Skirnir 71 The Lay of Rig 78 Egir's Compotation, or Loki's Altercation 84 The Lay of Fiolsvith 95 The Lay of Hyndla 102 The Incantation of Groa 109 The Song of the Sun 111 The Lay of Volund 121 The Lay of Helgi Hiorvard's Son 127 The First Lay of Helgi Hundingcide 137 The Second Lay of Helgi Hundingcide 144 Sinfiotli's End 155 The Lay of Sigurd, or Gripir's Prophecy 157 The Lay of Fafnir 172 The Lay of Sigrdrifa 180 Fragments of the Lay of Sigurd and Brynhild 186 The Third Lay of Sigurd Fafnicide 194 Fragments of the Lay of Brynhild 203 The First Lay of Gudrun 206 Brynhild's Hel-ride 210 The Slaughter of the Niflungs 212 The Second Lay of Gudrun 213 The Third Lay of Gudrun 219 Oddrun's Lament 221 The Lay of Atli 226 The Groenland Lay of Atli 233 Gudrun's Incitement 248 The Lay of Hamdir 251 THE YOUNGER EDDAS OF STURLESON. The Deluding of Gylfi 256 Of the Primordial State of the Universe 259 Origin of the Frost-Giants 260 Of the Cow Audhumla, and Birth of Odin 262 The Making of Heaven and Earth 263 Creation of Man and Woman 265 Night and Day, Sun and Moon 266 Wolves that Pursue the Sun and Moon 267 The Way that Leads to Heaven 268 The Golden Age 269 Origin of the Dwarfs, and Norns of Destiny 270 The Ash Yggdrasill and Mimer's Well 271 The Norns that Tend Yggdrasill 273 The Wind and the Seasons 275 Thor and His Hammer 277 Balder and Njord 278 Njord and His Wife Skadi 279 The God Frey and Goddess Freyja 280 Tyr and Other Gods 281 Hodur the Blind, Assassin of Baldur 283 Loki and His Progeny 284 Binding the Wolf Fenrir 285 The Goddesses and their Attributes 289 Frey, and Gerda the Beautiful 291 The Joys of Valhalla 293 The Wonderful Horse Sleipnir 297 The Ship Adapted to Sail on Sea or Land 299 Thor's Adventures in the Land of Giants 300 The Death of Baldur 315 Baldur in the Abode of the Dead 319 Loki's Capture and Punishment 321 Destruction of the Universe 323 Restoration of the Universe 327 How Loki Carried Away Iduna 329 The Origin of Poetry 331 Odin Beguiles the Daughter of Baugi 333 Glossary 335 PREFACE. Sæmund, son of Sigfus, the reputed collector of the poems bearing his name, which is sometimes also called the Elder, and the Poetic, Edda, was of a highly distinguished family, being descended in a direct line from King Harald Hildetonn. He was born at Oddi, his paternal dwelling in the south of Iceland, between the years 1054 and 1057, or about 50 years after the establishment by law of the Christian religion in that island; hence it is easy to imagine that many heathens, or baptized favourers of the old mythic songs of heathenism, may have lived in his days and imparted to him the lays of the times of old, which his unfettered mind induced him to hand down to posterity. The youth of Sæmund was passed in travel and study, in Germany and France, and, according to some accounts, in Italy. His cousin John Ogmundson, who later became first bishop of Holum, and after his death was received among the number of saints, when on his way to Rome, fell in with his youthful kinsman, and took him back with him to Iceland, in the year 1076. Sæmund afterwards became a priest at Oddi, where he instructed many young men in useful learning; but the effects of which were not improbably such as to the common people might appear as witchcraft or magic: and, indeed, Sæmund's predilection for the sagas and songs of the old heathen times (even for the magical ones) was so well known, that among his countrymen there were some who regarded him as a great sorcerer, though chiefly in what is called white or innocuous and defensive sorcery, a repute which still clings to his memory among the common people of Iceland, and will long adhere to it through the numerous and popular stories regarding him (some of them highly entertaining) that are orally transmitted from generation to generation.[1] Sæmund died at the age of 77, leaving behind him a work on the history of Norway and Iceland, which is now almost entirely lost. The first who ascribed to Sæmund the collection of poems known as the Poetic Edda,[2] was Brynjolf Svensson, bishop of Skalholt. This prelate, who was a zealous collector of ancient manuscripts, found in the year 1643, the old vellum codex, which is the most complete of all the known manuscripts of the Edda; of this he caused a transcript to be made, which he entitled _Edda Saemundi Multiscii_. The transcript came into the possession of the royal historiographer Torfæus; the original, together with other MSS., was presented to the King of Denmark, Frederick. III., and placed in the royal library at Copenhagen, where it now is.[3] As many of the Eddaic poems appear to have been orally transmitted in an imperfect state, the collector has supplied the deficiencies by prose insertions, whereby the integrity of the subject is to a certain degree restored. The collection called Sæmund's Edda consists of two parts, viz., the Mythological and the Heroic. It is the former of those which is now offered to the public in an English version. In the year 1797, a translation of this first part, by A.S. Cottle, was published at Bristol. This work I have never met with; nor have I seen any English version of any part of the Edda, with the exception of Gray's spirited but free translation of the Vegtamskvida. The Lay of Volund (Volundarkvida) celebrates the story of Volund's doings and sufferings during his sojourn in the territory of the Swedish king Nidud. Volund (_Ger_. Wieland, _Fr_. Veland and Galans) is the Scandinavian and Germanic Vulcan (Hephaistos) and Dædalus. In England his story, as a skillful smith, is traceable to a very early period. In the Anglo-Saxon poem of Beowulf we find that hero desiring, in the event of his falling in conflict with Grendel, that his corslets may be sent to Hygelac, being, as he says, the work of Weland; and king Ælfred, in his translation of Boethius de Consolatione, renders the words _fidelis ossa Fabricii, etc_. by Hwæt (hwær) Welondes? (Where are now the bones of the famous and wise goldsmith Weland?), evidently taking the proper name of Fabricius for an appellative equivalent to faber. In the Exeter Book, too, there is a poem in substance closely resembling the Eddaic lay. In his novel of Kenilworth, Walter Scott has been guilty of a woeful perversion of the old tradition, travestied from the Berkshire legend of Wayland Smith. As a land-boundary we find Weland's smithy in a Charter of king Eadred A.D. 955. On the Lay of Helgi Hiorvard's Son there is nothing to remark beyond what appears in the poem itself. The Lays of Helgi Hundingcide form the first of the series of stories relating to the Volsung race, and the Giukungs, or Niflungs. The connection of the several personages celebrated in these poems will appear plain from the following tables: Sigi, king of Hunaland, said to be a son of Odin | Rerir | Volsung = a daughter of the giant Hrimnir __________________| | Sigmund = Signi = Borghild = Hiordis | | | | Hamund. Sinfiotli. Helgi = Sigrun Sigurd = Gudrun __|____________ | | Sigmund, Svanhild. m Jornmnrek. Giuki = Grimhild. _______________________| | Gunnar=Glaumvor. Hogni=Kostbera. Guthorm. Gudrun,=1 Sigurd. | 2 Atli. Solar. Giuki. Snævar. 3 Jonakr. Budli. | Atli = Gudrun: Brynhild = Gunnar. Oddrun. Beckhild = Heimir. | | Erp. Eitil Alsvid. Jonakr = Gudrun _____| |__________ | | Erp Hamdir. Sorli. The Eddaic series of the Volsung and Niflung lays terminates with the Lay of Hamdir; the one entitled Gunnar's Melody is no doubt a comparatively late composition; yet being written in the true ancient spirit of the North is well deserving of a place among the Eddaic poems. Nor, indeed, is the claim of the Lay of Grotti to rank among the poems collected by Sæmund, by any means clear, we know it only from its existence in the Skalda; yet on account of its antiquity, its intrinsic worth, and its reception in other editions of the Edda, both in original and translation, the present work would seem, and justly so, incomplete without it. The Prose, or Younger Edda, is generally ascribed to the celebrated Snorre Sturleson, who was born of a distinguished Icelandic family, in the year 1178, and after leading a turbulent and ambitious life, and being twice the supreme magistrate of the Republic, was killed A.D. 1241,[4] by three of his sons-in-law and a stepson. When Snorre was three years old, John Loptson of Oddi, the grandson of Sæmund the Wise, took him into fosterage. Snorre resided at Oddi until his twentieth year, and appears to have received an excellent education from his foster father, who was one of the most learned men of that period. How far he may have made use of the manuscripts of Sæmund and Ari, which were preserved at Oddi, it is impossible to say, neither do we know the precise contents of these manuscripts; but it is highly probable that the most important parts of the work, now known under the title of "The Prose Edda," formed a part of them, and that Snorre--who may be regarded as the Scandinavian Euhemerus--merely added a few chapters, in order to render the mythology more conformable to the erroneous notions he appears to have entertained respecting its signification. Be this as it may, the Prose Edda, in its present form, dates from the thirteenth century, and consists of--1. _Formali_ (Fore discourse); or the prologue. 2. _Gylfa-ginning_ (The deluding of Gylfi). 3. _Braga-roedur_ (Conversations of Bragi). 4. _Eptirmali_ (After discourse); or Epilogue. The Prologue and Epilogue were probably written by Snorre himself, and are nothing more than an absurd syncretism of Hebrew, Greek, Roman, and Scandinavian myths and legends, in which Noah, Priam, Odin, Hector, Thor, Æneas, &c, are jumbled together much in the same manner as in the romances of the Middle Ages. These dissertations, utterly worthless in themselves, have obviously nothing in common with the so-called "Prose Edda," the first part of which, containing fifty-three chapters, forms a complete synopsis of Scandinavian mythology, derived principally from the Poetical Edda. THE TRANSLATOR. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: The following, the first among many, may serve as a specimen. Sæmund was residing, in the south of Europe, with a famous Master, by whom he was instructed in every kind of lore; while, on the other hand, he forgot (apparently through intense study) all that he had previously learned, even to his own name; so that when the holy man John Ogmundson came to his abode, he told him that his name was Koll; but on John insisting that he was no other than Sæmund Sigfusson, born at Oddi in Iceland, and relating to him many particulars regarding himself, he at length became conscious of his own identity, and resolved to flee from the place with his kinsman. For the purpose of deceiving the master, John continued some time in the place, and often came to visit him and Sæmund; till at last, one dark night, they betook themselves to flight. No sooner had the Master missed them than he sent in pursuit of them; but in vain, and the heavens were too overcast to admit, according to his custom, of reading their whereabouts in the stars. So they traveled day and night and all the following day. But the next night was clear, and the Master at once read in the stars where they were, and set out after them at full speed. Then Sæmund, casting his eyes up at the heavens, said, "Now is my Master in chase of us, and sees where we are." And on John asking what was to be done, he answered: "Take one of my shoes off, fill it with water, and set it on my head." John did so, and at the same moment, the Master, looking up at the heavens, says to his companion: "Bad news; the stranger John has drowned my pupil; there is water about his forehead." And thereupon returned home. The pair now again prosecute their journey night and day; but, in the following night, the Master again consults the stars, when, to his great amazement, he sees the star of Sæmund directly above his head, and again sets off after the fugitives. Observing this, Sæmund says: "The astrologer is again after us, and again we must look to ourselves; take my shoe off again, and with your knife stab me in the thigh; fill the shoe with blood, and place it on the top of my head." John does as directed, and the Master, again gazing at the stars, says: "There is blood now about the star of Master Koll, and the stranger has for certain murdered him," and so returns home. The old man now has once more recourse to his art; but on seeing Sæmund's star shining brightly above him, he exclaimed: "My pupil is still living; so much the better. I have taught him more than enough; for he outdoes me both in astrology and magic. Let them now proceed in safety; I am unable to hinder their departure."] [Footnote 2: Bishop P.E. Muller supposes the greater number of the Eddaic poems to be of the 8th century. Sagabibliothek II, p, 131.] [Footnote 3: Codex Regius, No. 2365, 4to. The handwriting of this MS. is supposed to be of the beginning of the 14th century.] [Footnote 4: Snorre, at the death of John Loptson (A.D. 1197), does not appear to have possessed any property whatever, though he afterwards became the wealthiest man in Iceland. His rise in the world was chiefly owing to his marriage with Herdisa, the daughter of a priest called Bersi the Rich,--a very enviable surname, which no doubt enabled the Rev. gentleman to brave the decrees of Popes and Councils, and take to himself a wife--who brought him a very considerable fortune. If we may judge from Snorre's biography, Christianity appears to have effected very little change in the character of the Icelanders. We have the same turbulent and sanguinary scenes, the same loose conduct of the women, and perfidy, and remorseless cruelty of the men, as in the Pagan times.] INTRODUCTION TO THE VOLUSPA. As introductory to the Voluspa, the following description of a wandering Vala or prophetess may be thought both desirable and interesting: "We find them present at the birth of children, when they seem to represent the Norns. They acquired their knowledge either by means of _seid_, during the night, while all others in the house were sleeping, and uttered their oracles in the morning; or they received sudden inspirations during the singing of certain songs appropriate to the purpose, without which the sorcery could not perfectly succeed. These seid-women were common over all the North. When invited by the master of a family, they appeared in a peculiar costume, sometimes with a considerable number of followers, e.g. with fifteen young men and fifteen girls. For their soothsaying they received money, gold rings, and other precious things. Sometimes it was necessary to compel them to prophesy. An old description of such a Vala, who went from guild to guild telling fortunes, will give the best idea of these women and their proceedings":-- "Thorbiorg, nicknamed the little Vala, during the winter attended the guilds, at the invitation of those who desired to know their fate, or the quality of the coming year. Everything was prepared in the most sumptuous manner for her reception. There was an elevated seat, on which lay a cushion stuffed with feathers. A man was sent to meet her. She came in the evening dressed in a blue mantle fastened with thongs and set with stones down to the lap; round her neck she had a necklace of glass beads, on her head a hood of black lambskin lined with white catskin; in her hand a staff, the head of which was mounted with brass and ornamented with stones; round her body she wore a girdle of agaric (knoske), from which hung a bag containing her conjuring apparatus; on her feet were rough calfskin shoes with long ties and tin buttons, on her hands catskin gloves, white and hairy within. All bade her welcome with a reverent salutation; the master himself conducted her by the hand to her seat. She undertook no prophecy on the first day, but would first pass a night there. In the evening of the following day she ascended her elevated seat, caused the women to place themselves round her, and desired them to sing certain songs, which they did in a strong, clear voice. She then prophesied of the coming year, and afterwards, all that would advanced and asked her such questions as they thought proper, to which they received plain answers." * * * * * In the following grand and ancient lay, dating most probably from the time of heathenism, are set forth, as the utterances of a Vala, or wandering prophetess, as above described, the story of the creation of the world from chaos, of the origin of the giants, the gods, the dwarfs, and the human race, together with other events relating to the mythology of the North, and ending with the destruction of the gods and the world, and their renewal. VÖLUSPÂ. THE VALA'S PROPHECY. 1. For silence I pray all sacred children, great and small, sons of Heimdall,[5] they will that I Valfather's deeds recount, men's ancient saws, those that I best remember. 2. The Jötuns I remember early born, those who me of old have reared. I nine worlds remember, nine trees, the great central tree, beneath the earth. 3. There was in times of old, where Ymir dwelt, nor sand nor sea, nor gelid waves; earth existed not, nor heaven above, 'twas a chaotic chasm, and grass nowhere. 4. Before Bur's sons raised up heaven's vault, they who the noble mid-earth shaped. The sun shone from the south over the structure's rocks: then was the earth begrown with herbage green. 5. The sun from the south, the moon's companion, her right hand cast about the heavenly horses. The sun knew not where she[6] a dwelling had, the moon knew not what power he possessed, the stars knew not where they had a station. 6. Then went the powers all to their judgment-seats, the all-holy gods, and thereon held council: to night and to the waning moon gave names; morn they named, and mid-day, afternoon and eve, whereby to reckon years. 7. The Æsir met on Ida's plain; they altar-steads and temples high constructed; their strength they proved, all things tried, furnaces established, precious things forged, formed tongs, and fabricated tools; 8. At tables played at home; joyous they were; to them was naught the want of gold, until there came Thurs-maidens three, all powerful, from Jötunheim. 9. Then went all the powers to their judgment-seats, the all-holy gods, and thereon held council, who should of the dwarfs the race create, from the sea-giant's blood and livid bones. 10. Then was Môtsognir created greatest of all the dwarfs, and Durin second; there in man's likeness they created many dwarfs from earth, as Durin said. 11. Nýi and Nidi, Nordri and Sudri, Austri and Vestri, Althiôf, Dvalin Nâr and Nâin, Niping, Dain, Bivör, Bavör, Bömbur, Nori, An and Anar, Ai, Miodvitnir, 12. Veig and Gandâlf, Vindâlf, Thrain, Thekk and Thorin, Thrôr, Vitr, and Litr, Nûr and Nýrâd, Regin and Râdsvid. Now of the dwarfs I have rightly told. 13. Fili, Kili, Fundin, Nali, Hepti, Vili, Hanar, Svior, Billing, Bruni, Bild, Bûri, Frâr, Hornbori, Fræg and Lôni, Aurvang, Iari, Eikinskialdi. 14. Time 'tis of the dwarfs in Dvalin's band, to the sons of men, to Lofar up to reckon, those who came forth from the world's rock, earth's foundation, to Iora's plains. 15. There were Draupnir, and Dôlgthrasir, Hâr, Haugspori, Hlævang, Glôi, Skirvir, Virvir, Skafid, Ai, Alf and Yngvi, Eikinskialdi, 16. Fialar and Frosti, Finn and Ginnar, Heri, Höggstari, Hliôdôlf, Moin: that above shall, while mortals live, the progeny of Lofar, accounted be. 17. Until there came three mighty and benevolent Æsir to the world from their assembly. They found on earth, nearly powerless, Ask and Embla, void of destiny. 18. Spirit they possessed not, sense they had not, blood nor motive powers, nor goodly colour. Spirit gave Odin, sense gave Hoenir, blood gave Lodur, and goodly colour. 19. I know an ash standing Yggdrasil hight, a lofty tree, laved with limpid water: thence come the dews into the dales that fall; ever stands it green over Urd's fountain. 20. Thence come maidens, much knowing, three from the hall, which under that tree stands; Urd hight the one, the second Verdandi,--on a tablet they graved--Skuld the third. Laws they established, life allotted to the sons of men; destinies pronounced. 21. Alone she[7] sat without, when came that ancient dread Æsir's prince; and in his eye she gazed. 22. "Of what wouldst thou ask me? Why temptest thou me? Odin! I know all, where thou thine eye didst sink in the pure well of Mim." Mim drinks mead each morn from Valfather's pledge.[8] Understand ye yet, or what? 23. The chief of hosts gave her rings and necklace, useful discourse, and a divining spirit: wide and far she saw o'er every world. 24. She the Valkyriur saw from afar coming, ready to ride to the god's people: Skuld held a shield, Skögul was second, then Gunn, Hild Göndul, and Geirskögul. Now are enumerated Herian's maidens, the Valkyriur, ready over the earth to ride. 25. She that war remembers, the first on earth, when Gullveig[9] they with lances pierced, and in the high one's[10] hall her burnt, thrice burnt, thrice brought her forth, oft not seldom; yet she still lives. 26. Heidi they called her, whithersoe'r she came, the well-foreseeing Vala: wolves she tamed, magic arts she knew, magic arts practised; ever was she the joy of evil people. 27. Then went the powers all to their judgment-seats, the all-holy gods, and thereon held council, whether the Æsir should avenge the crime,[11] or all the gods receive atonement. 28. Broken was the outer wall of the Æsir's burgh. The Vanir, foreseeing conflict, tramp o'er the plains. Odin cast [his spear], and mid the people hurled it: that was the first warfare in the world. 29. Then went the powers all to their judgment-seats, the all-holy gods, and thereon held council: who had all the air with evil mingled? or to the Jötun race Od's maid had given? 30. There alone was Thor with anger swollen. He seldom sits, when of the like he hears. Oaths are not held sacred; nor words, nor swearing, nor binding compacts reciprocally made. 31. She knows that Heimdall's horn is hidden under the heaven-bright holy tree. A river she sees flow, with foamy fall, from Valfather's pledge. Understand ye yet, or what? 32. East sat the crone, in Iârnvidir, and there reared up Fenrir's progeny: of all shall be one especially the moon's devourer, in a troll's semblance. 33. He is sated with the last breath of dying men; the god's seat he with red gore defiles: swart is the sunshine then for summers after; all weather turns to storm. Understand ye yet, or what? 34. There on a height sat, striking a harp, the giantess's watch, the joyous Egdir; by him crowed, in the bird-wood, the bright red cock, which Fialar hight. 35. Crowed o'er the Æsir Gullinkambi, which wakens heroes with the sire of hosts; but another crows beneath the earth, a soot-red cock, in the halls of Hel. 36. I saw of Baldr, the blood-stained god, Odin's son, the hidden fate. There stood grown up, high on the plain, slender and passing fair, the mistletoe. 37. From that shrub was made, as to me it seemed, a deadly, noxious dart. Hödr shot it forth; but Frigg bewailed, in Fensalir, Valhall's calamity. Understand ye yet, or what? 38. Bound she saw lying, under Hveralund, a monstrous form, to Loki like. There sits Sigyn, for her consort's sake, not right glad. Understand ye yet, or what? 39. Then the Vala knew the fatal bonds were twisting, most rigid, bonds from entrails made. 40. From the east a river falls, through venom dales, with mire and clods, Slîd is its name. 41. On the north there stood, on Nida-fells, a hall of gold, for Sindri's race; and another stood in Okôlnir, the Jötuns beer-hall which Brîmir hight. 42. She saw a hall standing, far from the sun, in Nâströnd; its doors are northward turned, venom-drops fall in through its apertures: entwined is that hall with serpents' backs. 43. She there saw wading the sluggish streams bloodthirsty men and perjurers, and him who the ear beguiles of another's wife. There Nidhögg sucks the corpses of the dead; the wolf tears men. Understand ye yet, or what? 44. Further forward I see, much can I say of Ragnarök and the gods' conflict. 45. Brothers shall fight, and slay each other; cousins shall kinship violate. The earth resounds, the giantesses flee; no man will another spare. 46. Hard is it in the world, great whoredom, an axe age, a sword age, shields shall be cloven, a wind age, a wolf age, ere the world sinks. 47. Mim's sons dance, but the central tree takes fire at the resounding Giallar-horn. Loud blows Heimdall, his horn is raised; Odin speaks with Mim's head. 48. Trembles Yggdrasil's ash yet standing; groans that aged tree, and the jötun is loosed. Loud bays Garm before the Gnupa-cave, his bonds he rends asunder; and the wolf runs. 49. Hrym steers from the east, the waters rise, the mundane snake is coiled in jötun-rage. The worm beats the water, and the eagle screams: the pale of beak tears carcases; Naglfar is loosed. 50. That ship fares from the east: come will Muspell's people o'er the sea, and Loki steers. The monster's kin goes all with the wolf; with them the brother is of Byleist on their course. 51. Surt from the south comes with flickering flame; shines from his sword the Val-gods' sun. The stony hills are dashed together, the giantesses totter; men tread the path of Hel, and heaven is cloven. 52. How is it with the Æsir? How with the Alfar? All Jötunheim resounds; the Æsir are in council. The dwarfs groan before their stony doors, the sages of the rocky walls. Understand ye yet, or what? 53. Then arises Hlîn's second grief, when Odin goes with the wolf to fight, and the bright slayer of Beli with Surt. Then will Frigg's beloved fall. 54. Then comes the great victor-sire's son, Vidar, to fight with the deadly beast. He with his hands will make his sword pierce to the heart of the giant's son: then avenges he his father. 55. Then comes the mighty son of Hlôdyn: (Odin's son goes with the monster to fight); Midgârd's Veor in his rage will slay the worm. Nine feet will go Fiörgyn's son, bowed by the serpent, who feared no foe. All men will their homes forsake. 56. The sun darkens, earth in ocean sinks, fall from heaven the bright stars, fire's breath assails the all-nourishing tree, towering fire plays against heaven itself. 57. She sees arise, a second time, earth from ocean, beauteously green, waterfalls descending; the eagle flying over, which in the fell captures fish. 58. The Æsir meet on Ida's plain, and of the mighty earth-encircler speak, and there to memory call their mighty deeds, and the supreme god's ancient lore. 59. There shall again the wondrous golden tables in the grass be found, which in days of old had possessed the ruler of the gods, and Fiölnir's race. 60. Unsown shall the fields bring forth, all evil be amended; Baldr shall come; Hödr and Baldr, the heavenly gods, Hropt's glorious dwellings shall inhabit. Understand ye yet, or what? 61. Then can Hoenir choose his lot, and the two brothers' sons inhabit the spacious Vindheim. Understand ye yet, or what? 62. She a hall standing than the sun brighter, with gold bedecked, in Gimill: there shall be righteous people dwell, and for evermore happiness enjoy. 64. Then comes the mighty one to the great judgment, the powerful from above, who rules o'er all. He shall dooms pronounce, and strifes allay, holy peace establish, which shall ever be. 65. There comes the dark dragon flying from beneath the glistening serpent, from Nida-fels. On his wings bears Nidhögg, flying o'er the plain, a corpse. Now she will descend. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 5: In the Rigsmal we are informed how Heimdall, under the name of Rig, became the progenitor of the three orders of mankind.] [Footnote 6: In the Germanic tongues, as in the Semitic, the sun is fem., the moon masc.] [Footnote 7: The Vala here speaks of herself in the third person.] [Footnote 8: His eye here understood to signify the sun.] [Footnote 9: A personification of gold. With the introduction of gold was the end of the golden age.] [Footnote 10: _i.e._, Odin's: his hall is the world.] [Footnote 11: Of introducing the use of gold.] THE LAY OF VAFTHRUDNIR. Odin visits the Giant (Jötun) Vafthrûdnir, for the purpose of proving his knowledge. They propose questions relative to the Cosmogony of the Northern creed, on the conditions that the baffled party forfeit his head. The Jötun incurs the penalty. _Odin_. 1. Counsel thou me now, Frigg! as I long to go Vafthrûdnir to visit; great desire, I say, I have, in ancient lore with that all-wise Jötun to contend. _Frigg_. 2. At home to bide Hærfather I would counsel, in the gods' dwellings; because no Jötun is, I believe, so mighty as is Vafthrûdnir. _Odin_. 3. Much have I journeyed, much experienced, mighty ones many proved; but this I fain would know, how in Vafthrûdnir's halls it is. _Frigg_. 4. In safety mayest thou go, in safety return; in safety on thy journeyings be; may thy wit avail thee, when thou, father of men! shalt hold converse with the Jötun. 5. Then went Odin the lore to prove of that all-wise Jötun. To the hall he came which Im's father owned. Ygg went forthwith in. _Odin._ 6. Hail to thee, Vafthrûdnir! to thy hall I am now come, thyself to see; for I fain would know, whether thou art a cunning and all-wise Jötun. _Vafthrûdnir._ 7. What man is this, that in my habitation by word addresses me? Out thou goest not from our halls, if thou art not the wiser. _Odin._ 8. Gagnrâd is my name, from my journey I am come thirsty to thy halls, needing hospitality,--for I long have journeyed--and kind reception from thee, Jötun! _Vafthrûdnir._ 9. Why then, Gagnrâd! speakest thou from the floor? Take in the hall a seat; then shall be proved which knows most, the guest or the ancient talker. _Gagnrâd._ 10. A poor man should, who to a rich man comes, speak usefully or hold his tongue: over-much talk brings him, I ween, no good, who visits an austere man. _Vafthrûdnir._ 11. Tell me, Gagnrâd! since on the floor thou wilt prove thy proficiency, how the horse is called that draws each day forth over human kind? _Gagnrâd._ 12. Skinfaxi he is named, that the bright day draws forth over human kind. Of coursers he is best accounted among the Reid-goths. Ever sheds light that horse's mane. _Vafthrûdnir._ 13. Tell me now, Gagnrâd! since on the floor thou wilt prove thy proficiency, how that steed is called, which from the east draws night o'er the beneficent powers? _Gagnrâd._ 14. Hrimfaxi he is called, that each night draws forth over the beneficent powers. He from his bit lets fall drops every morn, whence in the dales comes dew. _Vafthrûdnir._ 15. Tell me, Gagnrâd! since on the floor thou wilt prove thy proficiency, how the stream is called, which earth divides between the Jötuns and the Gods? _Gagnrâd._ 16. Ifing the stream is called which earth divides between the Jötuns and the Gods: open shall it run throughout all time. On that stream no ice shall be. _Vafthrûdnir._ 17. Tell me, Gagnrâd! since on the floor thou wilt prove thy proficiency, how that plain is called, where in fight shall meet Surt and the gentle Gods? _Gagnrâd._ 18. Vigrid the plain is called where in fight shall meet Surt and the gentle Gods; a hundred rasts it is on every side. That plain is to them decreed. _Vafthrûdnir._ 19. Wise art thou, O guest! Approach the Jötuns bench, and sitting let us together talk; we will our heads in the hall pledge, guest! for wise utterance. _Gagnrâd._ 20. Tell me first, if thy wit suffices, and thou, Vafthrûdnir! knowest, whence first came the earth, and the high heaven, thou, sagacious Jötun? _Vafthrûdnir._ 21. From Ymir's flesh the earth was formed, and from his bones the hills, the heaven from the skull of that ice-cold giant, and from his blood the sea. _Gagnrâd._ 22. Tell me secondly, if thy wit suffices, and thou, Vafthrûdnir! knowest, whence came the moon, which over mankind passes, and the sun likewise? _Vafthrûdnir._ 23. Mundilfoeri hight he, who the moon's father is, and eke the sun's: round heaven journey each day they must, to count years for men. _Gagnrâd._ 24. Tell me thirdly, since thou art called wise, and if thou, Vafthrûdnir! knowest, whence came the day, which over people passes, and night with waning moons? _Vafthrûdnir._ 25. Delling hight he who the day's father is, but night was of Nörvi born; the new and waning moons the beneficent powers created, to count years for men. _Gagnrâd._ 26. Tell me fourthly, since they pronounce thee sage, and if thou, Vafthrûdnir! knowest, whence winter came, and warm summer first among the wise gods? _Vafthrûdnir._ 27. Vindsval hight he, who winter's father is, and Svâsud summer's; yearly they both shall ever journey, until the powers perish. _Gagnrâd._ 28. Tell me fifthly, since they pronounce thee sage, and if thou, Vafthrûdnir! knowest, which of the Æsir earliest, or of Ymir's sons, in days of old existed? _Vafthrûdnir._ 29. Countless winters, ere earth was formed, was Bergelmir born; Thrûdgelmir was his sire, his grandsire Aurgelmir. _Gagnrâd._ 30. Tell me sixthly, since thou art called wise, and if thou, Vafthrûdnir! knowest, whence first came Aurgelmir, among the Jötun's sons, thou sagacious Jötun? _Vafthrûdnir._ 31. From Elivâgar sprang venom drops, which grew till they became a Jötun; but sparks flew from the south-world: to the ice the fire gave life. _Gagnrâd_. 33. Tell me seventhly, since thou are called wise, and if thou knowest, Vafthrûdnir! how he children begat, the bold Jötun, as he had no giantess's company? _Vafthrûdnir_. 33. Under the armpit grew, 'tis said, of the Hrîmthurs, a girl and boy together; foot with foot begat, of that wise Jötun, a six-headed son. _Gagnrâd_. 34. Tell me eighthly, since thou art called wise, and if thou knowest, Vafthrûdnir! what thou doest first remember, or earliest knowest? Thou art an all-wise Jötun. _Vafthrûdnir_. 35. Countless winters, ere earth was formed, Bergelmir was born. That I first remember, when that wise Jötun in an ark was laid. _Gagnrâd_. 36. Tell me ninthly, since thou art called wise, and if thou knowest, Vafthrûdnir! whence the wind comes, that over ocean passes, itself invisible to man? _Vafthrûdnir_. 37. Hraesvelg he is called, who at the end of heaven sits, a Jötun in an eagle's plumage: from his wings comes, it is said, the wind, that over all men passes. _Gagnrâd_. 38. Tell me tenthly, since thou all the origin of the gods knowest, Vafthrûdnir! whence Niörd came among the Æsir's sons? O'er fanes and offer-steads he rules by hundreds, yet was not among the Æsir born. _Vafthrûdnir_. 39. In Vanaheim wise powers him created, and to the gods a hostage gave. At the world's dissolution, he will return to the wise Vanir. _Gagnrâd_. 40. Tell me eleventhly, since all the condition of the gods thou knowest, Vafthrûdnir! what the Einheriar do in Haerfather's halls, until the powers perish? _Vafthrûdnir_. 41. All the Einheriar in Odin's halls each day together fight; the fallen they choose, and from the conflict ride; beer with the Æsir drink, of Saehrimnir eat their fill, then sit in harmony together. _Gagnrâd_. 42. Tell me twelfthly, as thou all the condition of the gods knowest, Vafthrûdnir! of the Jötuns' secrets, and of all the gods', say what truest is, thou all-knowing Jötun! _Vafthrûdnir_. 43. Of the secrets of the Jötuns and of all the gods, I can truly tell; for I have over each world travelled; to nine worlds I came, to Niflhel beneath: here die men from Hel. _Gagnrâd_. 44. Much have I journeyed, much experienced, mighty ones many proved. What mortals will live, when the great "Fimbul"-winter shall from men have passed? _Vafthrûdnir_. 45. Lif and Lifthrasir; but they will be concealed in Hoddmimir's holt. The morning dews they will have for food. From, them shall men be born. _Gagnrâd_. 46. Much have I journeyed, much experienced, mighty ones many proved. Whence will come the sun in that fair heaven, when Fenrir has this devoured? _Vafthrûdnir_. 47. A daughter shall Alfrödull bear, ere Fenrir shall have swallowed her. The maid shall ride, when the powers die, on her mother's course. _Gagnrâd_. 48. Much have I journeyed, etc. Who are the maidens that o'er the ocean travel, wise of spirit, journey? _Vafthrûdnir_. 49. O'er people's dwellings three descend of Mögthrasir's maidens, the sole Hamingiur who are in the world, although with Jötuns nurtured. _Gagnrâd_. 50. Much have I journeyed, etc. Which of the Æsir will rule o'er the gods' possession, when Surt's fire shall be quenched? _Vafthrûdnir_. 51. Vidar and Vali will the gods' holy fanes inhabit, when Surt's fire shall be quenched. Môdi and Magni will Miöllnir possess, and warfare strive to end. _Gagnrâd_. 52. Much have I journeyed, etc. What of Odin will the life's end be, when the powers perish? _Vafthrûdnir_. 53. The wolf will the father of men devour; him Vidar will avenge: he his cold jaws will cleave, in conflict with the wolf. _Gagnrâd_. 54. Much have I journeyed, etc. What said Odin in his son's ear, ere he on the pile was laid? _Vafthrûdnir_. 55. That no one knoweth, what thou in days of old saidst in thy son's ear. With dying mouth my ancient saws I have said, and the gods' destruction. With Odin I have contended in wise utterances: of men thou ever art the wisest! THE LAY OF GRIMNIR. The subject is wholly mythological. King Hraudung had two sons, one named Agnar, the other Geirröd. Agnar was ten, and Geirröd eight winters old. They both rowed out in a boat, with their hooks and lines, to catch small fish; but the wind drove them out to sea. In the darkness of the night they were wrecked on the shore, and went up into the country, where they found a cottager, with whom they stayed through the winter. The cottager's wife brought up Agnar, and the cottager, Geirröd, and gave him good advice. In the spring the man got them a ship; but when he and his wife accompanied them to the strand, the man talked apart with Geirröd. They had a fair wind, and reached their father's place. Geirröd was at the ship's prow: he sprang on shore, but pushed the ship out, saying, "Go where an evil spirit may get thee." The vessel was driven out to sea, but Geirröd went up to the town, where he was well received; but his father was dead. Geirröd was then taken for king, and became a famous man. Odin and Frigg were sitting in Hlidskiâlf, looking over all the world. Odin said, "Seest thou Agnar, thy foster-son, where he is, getting children with a giantess in a cave? while Geirröd, my foster-son, is a king residing in his country." Frigg answered, "He is so inhospitable that he tortures his guests, if he thinks that too many come." Odin replied that that was the greatest falsehood; and they wagered thereupon. Frigg sent her waiting-maid Fulla to bid Geirröd be on his guard, lest the trollmann who was coming should do him harm, and also say that a token whereby he might be known was, that no dog, however fierce, would attack him. But that King Geirröd was not hospitable was mere idle talk. He, nevertheless, caused the man to be secured whom no dog would assail. He was clad in a blue cloak, and was named Grimnir, and would say no more concerning himself, although he was questioned. The king ordered him to be tortured to make him confess, and to be set between two fires; and there he sat for eight nights. King Geirröd had a son ten years old, whom he named Agnar, after his brother. Agnar went to Grimnir and gave him a full horn to drink from, saying that the king did wrong in causing him to be tortured, though innocent. Grimnir drank from it. The fire had then so approached him that his cloak was burnt; whereupon he said:-- 1. Fire! thou art hot, and much too great; flame! let us separate. My garment is singed, although I lift it up, my cloak is scorched before it. 2. Eight nights have I sat between fires here, and to me no one food has offered, save only Agnar, the son of Geirröd, who alone shall rule over the land of Goths. 3. Be thou blessed, Agnar! as blessed as the god of men bids thee to be. For one draught thou never shalt get better recompense. 4. Holy is the land, which I see lying to Æsir and Alfar near; but in Thrûdheim Thor shall dwell until the powers perish. 5. Ydalir it is called, where Ullr has himself a dwelling made. Alfheim the gods to Frey gave in days of yore for a tooth-gift. 6. The third dwelling is, where the kind powers have with silver decked the hall; Valaskiâlf 'tis called, which for himself acquired the As in days of old. 7. Sökkvabekk the fourth is named o'er which the gelid waves resound; Odin and Saga there, joyful each day, from golden beakers quaff. 8. Gladsheim the fifth is named, there the golden-bright Valhall stands spacious, there Hropt selects each day those men who die by weapons. 9. Easily to be known is, by those who to Odin come, the mansion by its aspect. Its roof with spears is laid, its hall with shields is decked, with corslets are its benches strewed. 10. Easily to be known is, by those who to Odin come, the mansion by its aspect. A wolf hangs before the western door, over it an eagle hovers. 11. Thrymheim the sixth is named, where Thiassi dwelt that all-powerful Jötun; but Skadi now inhabits, the bright bride of gods, her father's ancient home. 12. Breidablik is the seventh, where Baldr has built for himself a hall, in that land, in which I know exists the fewest crimes. 13. Himinbiörg is the eighth, where Heimdall, it is said, rules o'er the holy fanes: there the gods' watchman, in his tranquil home, drinks joyful the good mead. 14. Fôlkvang is the ninth, there Freyia directs the sittings in the hall. She half the fallen chooses each day, but Odin th' other half. 15. Glitnir is the tenth; it is on gold sustained, and eke with silver decked. There Forseti dwells throughout all time, and every strife allays. 16. Nôatûn is the eleventh, there Niörd has himself a dwelling made, prince of men; guiltless of sin, he rules o'er the high-built fane. 17. O'ergrown with branches and high grass is Vidar's spacious Landvîdi: There will the son descend, from the steed's back, bold to avenge his father. 18. Andhrimnir makes, in Eldhrimnir, Sæhrimnir to boil, of meats the best; but few know how many Einheriar it feeds. 19. Geri and Freki the war-wont sates, the triumphant sire of hosts; but on wine only the famed in arms, Odin, ever lives. 20. Hugin and Munin fly each day over the spacious earth. I fear for Hugin, that he come not back, yet more anxious am I for Munin. 21. Thund roars; joyful in Thiodvitnir's water lives the fish; the rapid river seems too great for the battle-steed to ford. 22. Valgrind is the lattice called, in the plain that stands, holy before the holy gates: ancient is that lattice, but few only know how it is closed with lock. 23. Five hundred doors, and forty eke, I think, are in Valhall. Eight hundred Einheriar will at once from each door go when they issue with the wolf to fight. 24. Five hundred floors, and forty eke, I think, has Bilskirnir with its windings. Of all the roofed houses that I know, is my son's the greatest. 25. Heidrûn the goat is called, that stands o'er Odin's hall, and bites from Lærâd's branches. He a bowl shall fill with the bright mead; that drink shall never fail. 26. Eikthyrnir the hart is called, that stands o'er Odin's hall, and bites from Lærâd's branches; from his horns fall drops into Hvergelmir, whence all waters rise:-- 27. Sid and Vid, Soekin and Eikin, Svöl and Gunnthrô, Fiörm and Fimbulthul, Rin and Rennandi, Gipul and Göpul, Gömul and Geirvimul: they round the gods' dwelling wind. Thyn and Vin, Thöll and Höll, Grâd and Gunnthorin. 28. Vina one is called, a second Vegsvin, a third Thiodnuma; Nyt and Nön and Hrön, Slid and Hrid, Sylg and Ylg, Vîd and Vân, Vönd and Strönd, Gioll and Leipt; these (two) fall near to men, but fall hence to Hel. 29. Körmt and Ormt, and the Kerlaugs twain: these Thor must wade each day, when he to council goes at Yggdrasil's ash; for the As-bridge is all on fire, the holy waters boil. 30. Glad and Gyllir, Gler and Skeidbrimir, Sillfrintopp and Sinir, Gisl and Falhôfnir, Gulltopp and Lettfeti; on these steeds the Æsir each day ride, when they to council go, at Yggdrasil's ash. 31. Three roots stand on three ways under Yggdrasil's ash: Hel under one abides, under the second the Hrimthursar, under the third mankind. 32. Ratatösk is the squirrel named, which, has to run in Yggdrasil's ash; he from above the eagle's words must carry, and beneath to Nidhögg repeat. 33. Harts there are also four, which from its summits, arch-necked, gnaw. Dâin and Dvalin, Duneyr and Durathrôr. 34. More serpents lie under Yggdrasil's ash, than any one would think of witless mortals: Gôin and Môin,--they are Grafvitnir's sons--Grâbak and Grafvöllud, Ofnir and Svafnir, will, I ween, the branches of that tree ever lacerate. 35. Yggdrasil's ash hardship suffers greater than men know of; a hart bites it above, and in its side it rots, Nidhögg beneath tears it. 36. Hrist and Mist the horn shall bear me Skeggöld and Skögul, Hlökk and Herfiotur, Hildi and Thrûdi, Göll and Geirölul, Randgríd and Râdgrîd, and Reginleif, these bear beer to the Einheriar. 37. Arvakr and Alsvid, theirs 'tis up hence fasting the sun to draw: under their shoulder the gentle powers, the Æsir, have concealed an iron-coolness. 38. Svalin the shield is called, which stands before the sun, the refulgent deity; rocks and ocean must, I ween, be burnt, fell it from its place. 39. Sköll the wolf is named, that the fair-faced goddess to the ocean chases; another Hati hight, he is Hrôdvitnir's son; he the bright maid of heaven shall precede. 40. Of Ymir's flesh was earth created, of his blood the sea, of his bones the hills, of his hair trees and plants, of his skull the heaven; 41. And of his brows the gentle powers formed Midgard for the sons of men; but of his brain the heavy clouds are all created. 42. Ullr's and all the gods' favour shall have, whoever first shall look to the fire; for open will the dwelling be, to the Æsir's sons, when the kettles are lifted off.[12] 43. Ivaldi's sons went in days of old Skidbladnir to form, of ships the best, for the bright Frey, Niörd's benign son. 44. Yggdrasil's ash is of all trees most excellent, and of all ships, Skidbladnir, of the Æsir, Odin, and of horses, Sleipnir, Bifröst of bridges, and of skallds, Bragi, Hâbrôk of hawks, and of dogs, Garm, [Brimir of swords.] 45. Now I my face have raised to the gods' triumphant sons, at that will welcome help awake; from all the Æsir, that shall penetrate, to Oegir's bench, to Oegir's compotation.[13] 46. I am called Grim, I am called Gangleri, Herian and Hiâlmberi, Thekk and Thridi, Thund and Ud, Helblindi and Har, 47. Sad and Svipall, and Sanngetall, Herteit and Hnikar Bileyg, Bâleyg, Bölverk, Fiölnir, Grîm and Grimnir, Glapsvid and Fiölsvid, 48. Sîdhött, Sîdskegg Sigfödr, Hnikud, Alfodr, Valfödr, Atrid and Farmatyr; by one name I never have been called, since among men I have gone. 49. Grimnir I am called at Geirröd's, and at Asmund's Jâlk and Kialar, when a sledge I drew; Thrôr at the public meetings, Vidur in battles, Oski and Omi, Jafnhâr and Biflindi, Gôndlir and Harbard with the gods. 50. Svidur and Svidrir I was at Sökkmimir's called, and beguiled that ancient Jötun, when of Midvitnir's renowned son I was the sole destroyer. 51. Drunken art thou, Geirröd, thou hast drunk too much, thou art greatly by mead beguiled. Much didst thou lose, when thou wast of my help bereft, of all the Einheriar's and Odin's favour. 52. Many things I told thee, but thou hast few remembered: thy friends mislead thee. My friend's sword lying I see, with blood all dripping. 53. The fallen by the sword Ygg shall now have; thy life is now run out: Wroth with thee are the Dîsir: Odin thou now shalt see: draw near to me if thou canst. 54. Odin I now am named, Ygg I was called before, before that, Thund, Vakr and Skilfing, Vâfudr and Hrôptatyr, with the gods, Gaut and Jâlk, Ofnir and Svafnir, all which I believe to be names of me alone. King Geirröd was sitting with his sword lying across his knees, half drawn from the scabbard, but on finding that it was Odin, he rose for the purpose of removing him from the fires, when the sword slipt from his hand with the hilt downwards; and the king having stumbled, the sword pierced him through and killed him. Odin then vanished, and Agnar was king for a long time after. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 12: What in this strophe is said of Ullr has apparently reference to a lost myth. It would seem that, through the intervention of the kettles, the Æsir were unable to see Odin's unpleasant position between the two fires.] [Footnote 13: My version of this strophe is not in accordance with those of other interpreters. Odin raises his countenance to heaven, in full confidence that when seen help will forthwith be afforded him. Under the name of Oegir, Gierrod is generally understood: I rather think the meaning to be, that all the Æsir who [sit at] Oegir's compotation will forthwith come to his aid.] THE LAY OF VEGTAM, OR BALDR'S DREAMS. 1. Together were the Æsir all in council, and the Asyniur all in conference, and they consulted, the mighty gods, why Baldr had oppressive dreams. 2. [To that god his slumber was most afflicting; his auspicious dreams seemed departed. They the Jötuns questioned, wise seers of the future, whether this might not forebode calamity? 3. The responses said that to death destined was Ullr's kinsman, of all the dearest: that caused grief to Frigg and Svafnir, and to the other powers--On a course they resolved: 4. That they would send to every being, assurance to solicit, Baldr not to harm. All species swore oaths to spare him; Frigg received all their vows and compacts. 5. Valfather fears something defective; he thinks the Hamingiur may have departed; the Æsir he convenes, their counsel craves: at the deliberation much is devised.] 6. Uprose Odin lord of men and on Sleipnir he the saddle laid; rode thence down to Niflhel. A dog he met, from Hel coming. 7. It was blood-stained on its breast, on its slaughter-craving throat, and nether jaw. It bayed and widely gaped at the sire of magic song:--long it howled. 8. Forth rode Odin--the ground rattled--till to Hel's lofty house he came. Then rode Ygg to the eastern gate, where he knew there was a Vala's grave. 9. To the prophetess, he began a magic song to chant, towards the north looked, potent runes applied, a spell pronounced, an answer demanded, until compelled she rose, and with deathlike voice she said: _Vala_. 10. "What man is this, to me unknown, who has for me increased an irksome course? I have with snow been decked, by rain beaten, and with dew moistened: long have I been dead." _Vegtam_. 11. "Vegtam is my name, I am Valtam's son. Tell thou me of Hel: from, earth I call on thee. For whom are those benches strewed o'er with rings, those costly couches o'erlaid with gold?" _Vala_. 12. "Here stands mead, for Baldr brewed, over the bright potion a shield is laid; but the Æsir race are in despair. By compulsion I have spoken. I will now be silent." _Vegtam_. 13. "Be not silent, Vala! I will question thee, until I know all. I will yet know who will Baldr's slayer be, and Odin's son of life bereave." _Vala_. 14. "Hödr will hither his glorious brother send, he of Baldr will the slayer be, and Odin's son of life bereave. By compulsion I have spoken; I will now be silent." _Vegtam_. 15. "Be not silent, Vala! I will question thee, until I know all. I will yet know who on Hödr vengeance will inflict, or Baldr's slayer raise on the pile." _Vala_. 16. "Rind a son shall bear, in the western halls: he shall slay Odin's son, when one night old. He a hand will not wash, nor his head comb, ere he to the pile has borne Baldr's adversary. By compulsion I have spoken; I will now be silent." _Vegtam_. 17. "Be not silent, Vala! I will question thee, until I know all. I will yet know who the maidens are, that weep at will, and heavenward cast their neck-veils? Tell me but that: till then thou sleepest not." _Vala_. 18. "Not Vegtam art thou, as I before believed; rather art thou Odin, lord of men!" _Odin_. 19. "Thou art no Vala, nor wise woman, rather art thou the mother of three Thursar." _Vala_. 20. "Home ride thou, Odin! and exult. Thus shall never more man again visit me, until Loki free from his bonds escapes, and Ragnarök all-destroying comes." THE HIGH ONE'S[14] LAY. 1. All door-ways, before going forward, should be looked to; for difficult it is to know where foes may sit within a dwelling. 2. Givers, hail! A guest is come in: where shall he sit? In much haste is he, who on the ways has to try his luck. 3. Fire is needful to him who is come in, and whose knees are frozen; food and raiment a man requires, wheo'er the fell has travelled. 4. Water to him is needful who for refection comes, a towel and hospitable invitation, a good reception; if he can get it, discourse and answer. 5. Wit is needful to him who travels far: at home all is easy. A laughing-stock is he who nothing knows, and with the instructed sits. 6. Of his understanding no one should be proud, but rather in conduct cautious. When the prudent and taciturn come to a dwelling, harm seldom befalls the cautious; for a firmer friend no man ever gets than great sagacity. 7. A wary guest,[15] who to refection comes, keeps a cautious silence, with his ears listens, and with his eyes observes: so explores every prudent man. 8. He is happy, who for himself obtains fame and kind words: less sure is that which a man must have in another's breast. 9. He is happy, who in himself possesses fame and wit while living; for bad counsels have oft been received from another's breast. 10. A better burthen no man bears on the way than much good sense; that is thought better than riches in a strange place; such is the recourse of the indigent. 11. A worse provision on the way he cannot carry than too much beer-bibbing; so good is not, as it is said, beer for the sons of men. 12. A worse provision no man can take from table than too much beer-bibbing: for the more he drinks the less control he has of his own mind. 13. Oblivion's heron 'tis called that over potations hovers; he steals the minds of men. With this bird's pinions I was fettered in Gunnlods dwelling. 14. Drunk I was, I was over-drunk, at that cunning Fialar's. It's the best drunkenness, when every one after it regains his reason. 15. Taciturn and prudent, and in war daring, should a king's children be; joyous and liberal every one should be until his hour of death. 16. A cowardly man thinks he will ever live, if warfare he avoids; but old age will give him no peace, though spears may spare him. 17. A fool gapes when to a house he comes, to himself mutters or is silent; but all at once, if he gets drink, then is the man's mind displayed. 18. He alone knows who wanders wide, and has much experienced, by what disposition each man is ruled, who common sense possesses. 19. Let a man hold the cup, yet of the mead drink moderately, speak sensibly or be silent. As of a fault no man will admonish thee, if thou goest betimes to sleep. 20. A greedy man, if he be not moderate, eats to his mortal sorrow. Oftentimes his belly draws laughter on a silly man, who among the prudent comes. 21. Cattle know when to go home, and then from grazing cease; but a foolish man never knows his stomach's measure. 22. A miserable man, and ill-conditioned, sneers at every thing: one thing he knows not, which he ought to know, that he is not free from faults. 23. A foolish man is all night awake, pondering over everything; he then grows tired; and when morning comes, all is lament as before. 24. A foolish man thinks all who on him smile to be his friends; he feels it not, although they speak ill of him, when he sits among the clever. 25. A foolish man thinks all who speak him fair to be his friends; but he will find, if into court he comes, that he has few advocates. 26. A foolish man thinks he knows everything if placed in unexpected difficulty; but he knows not what to answer, if to the test he is put. 27. A foolish man, who among people comes, had best be silent; for no one knows that he knows nothing, unless he talks too much. He who previously knew nothing will still know nothing, talk he ever so much. 28. He thinks himself wise, who can ask questions and converse also; conceal his ignorance no one can, because it circulates among men. 29. He utters too many futile words who is never silent; a garrulous tongue, if it be not checked, sings often to its own harm. 30. For a gazing-stock no man shall have another, although he come a stranger to his house. Many a one thinks himself wise, if he is not questioned, and can sit in a dry habit. 31. Clever thinks himself the guest who jeers a guest, if he takes to flight. Knows it not certainly he who prates at meat, whether he babbles among foes. 32. Many men are mutually well-disposed, yet at table will torment each other. That strife will ever be; guest will guest irritate. 33. Early meals a man should often take, unless to a friend's house he goes; else he will sit and mope, will seem half-famished, and can of few things inquire. 34. Long is and indirect the way to a bad friend's, though by the road he dwell; but to a good friend's the paths lie direct, though he be far away. 35. A guest should depart, not always stay in one place. The welcome becomes unwelcome, if he too long continues in another's house. 36. One's own house is best, small though it be; at home is every one his own master. Though he but two goats possess, and a straw-thatched cot, even that is better than begging. 37. One's own house is best, small though it be, at home is every one his own master. Bleeding at heart is he, who has to ask for food at every meal-tide. 38. Leaving in the field his arms, let no man go a foot's length forward; for it is hard to know when on the way a man may need his weapon. 39. I have never found a man so bountiful, or so hospitable that he refused a present; or of his property so liberal that he scorned a recompense. 40. Of the property which he has gained no man should suffer need; for the hated oft is spared what for the dear was destined. Much goes worse than is expected. 41. With arms and vestments friends should each other gladden, those which are in themselves most sightly. Givers and requiters are longest friends, if all [else] goes well.[16] 42. To his friend a man should be a friend, and gifts with gifts requite. Laughter with laughter men should receive, but leasing with lying. 43. To his friend a man should be a friend; to him and to his friend; but of his foe no man shall the friend's friend be. 44. Know, if thou hast a friend whom thou fully trustest, and from whom thou woulds't good derive, thou shouldst blend thy mind with his, and gifts exchange, and often go to see him. 45. If thou hast another, whom thou little trustest, yet wouldst good from him derive, thou shouldst speak him fair, but think craftily, and leasing pay with lying. 46. But of him yet further, whom thou little trustest, and thou suspectest his affection; before him thou shouldst laugh, and contrary to thy thoughts speak: requital should the gift resemble. 47. I was once young, I was journeying alone, and lost my way; rich I thought myself, when I met another. Man is the joy of man. 48. Liberal and brave men live best, they seldom cherish sorrow; but a base-minded man dreads everything; the niggardly is uneasy even at gifts. 49. My garments in a field I gave away to two wooden men: heroes they seemed to be, when they got cloaks: exposed to insult is a naked man. 50. A tree withers that on a hill-top stands; protects it neither bark nor leaves: such is the man whom no one favours: why should he live long? 51. Hotter than fire love for five days burns between false friends; but is quenched when the sixth day comes, and-friendship is all impaired. 52. Something great is not [always] to be given, praise is often for a trifle bought. With half a loaf and a tilted vessel I got myself a comrade. 53. Little are the sand-grains, little the wits, little the minds of [some] men; for all men are not wise alike: men are everywhere by halves. 54. Moderately wise should each one be, but never over-wise: of those men the lives are fairest, who know much well. 55. Moderately wise should each one be, but never over-wise; for a wise man's heart is seldom glad, if he is all-wise who owns it. 56. Moderately wise should each one be, but never over-wise. His destiny let know no man beforehand; his mind will be freest from' care. 57. Brand burns from brand until it is burnt out; fire is from fire quickened. Man to' man becomes known by speech, but a fool by his bashful silence. 58. He should early rise, who another's property or wife desires to have. Seldom a sluggish wolf gets prey, or a sleeping man victory. 59. Early should rise he who has few workers, and go his work to see to; greatly is he retarded who sleeps the morn away. Wealth half depends on energy. 60. Of dry planks and roof-shingles a man knows the measure; of the fire-wood that may suffice, both measure and time. 61. Washed and refected let a man ride to the Thing,[17] although his garments be not too good; of his shoes and breeches let no one be ashamed, nor of his horse, although he have not a good one. 62. Inquire and impart should every man of sense, who will be accounted sage. Let one only know, a second may not; if three, all the world knows. 63. Gasps and gapes, when to the sea he comes, the eagle over old ocean; so is a man, who among many comes, and has few advocates. 64. His power should every sagacious man use with discretion; for he will find, when among the bold he comes, that no one alone is doughtiest. 65. Circumspect and reserved every man should be, and wary in trusting friends. Of the words that a man says to another he often pays the penalty. 66. Much too early I came to many places, but too late to others: the beer was drunk, or not ready: the disliked seldom hits the moment. 67. Here and there I should have been invited, if I a meal had needed; or two hams had hung, at that true friend's, where of one I had eaten. 68. Fire is best among the sons of men, and the sight of the sun, if his health a man can have, with a life free from vice. 69. No man lacks everything, although his health be bad: one in his sons is happy, one in his kin, one in abundant wealth, one in his good works. 70. It is better to live, even to live miserably; a living man can always get a cow. I saw fire consume the rich man's property, and death stood without his door. 71. The halt can ride on horseback, the one-handed drive cattle; the deaf fight and be useful: to be blind is better than to be burnt[18] no one gets good from a corpse. 72. A son is better, even if born late, after his father's departure. Gravestones seldom stand by the way-side unless raised by a kinsman to a kinsman. 73. Two are adversaries: the tongue is the bane of the head: under every cloak I expect a hand. * * * 74. At night is joyful he who is sure of travelling entertainment. [A ship's yards are short.][19] Variable is an autumn night. Many are the weather's changes in five days, but more in a month. 75. He [only] knows not who knows nothing, that many a one apes another. One man is rich, another poor: let him not be thought blameworthy. 76. Cattle die, kindred die, we ourselves also die; but the fair fame never dies of him who has earned it. 77. Cattle die, kindred die, we ourselves also die; but I know one thing that never dies,--judgment on each one dead. 78. Full storehouses I saw at Dives' sons': now bear they the beggar's staff. Such are riches; as is the twinkling of an eye: of friends they are most fickle. 79. A foolish man, if he acquires wealth or woman's love, pride grows within him, but wisdom never: he goes on more and more arrogant. 80. Then 'tis made manifest, if of runes thou questionest him, those to the high ones known, which the great powers invented, and the great talker[20] painted, that he had best hold silence. 81. At eve the day is to be praised, a woman after she is burnt, a sword after it is proved, a maid after she is married, ice after it has passed away, beer after it is drunk. 82. In the wind one should hew wood, in a breeze row out to sea, in the dark talk with a lass: many are the eyes of day. In a ship voyages are to be made, but a shield is for protection, a sword for striking, but a damsel for a kiss. 83. By the fire one should drink beer, on the ice slide; buy a horse that is lean, a sword that is rusty; feed a horse at home, but a dog at the farm. 84. In a maiden's words no one should place faith, nor in what a woman says; for on a turning wheel have their hearts been formed, and guile in their breasts been laid; 85. In a creaking bow, a burning flame, a yawning wolf, a chattering crow, a grunting swine, a rootless tree, a waxing wave, a boiling kettle, 86. A flying dart, a falling billow, a one night's ice, a coiled serpent, a woman's bed-talk, or a broken sword, a bear's play, or a royal child, 87. A sick calf, a self-willed thrall, a flattering prophetess, a corpse newly slain, [a serene sky, a laughing lord, a barking dog, and a harlot's grief]; 88. An early sown field let no one trust, nor prematurely in a son: weather rules the field, and wit the son, each of which is doubtful; 89. A brother's murderer, though on the high road met, a half-burnt house, an over-swift horse, (a horse is useless, if a leg be broken), no man is so confiding as to trust any of these. 90. Such is the love of women, who falsehood meditate, as if one drove not rough-shod, on slippery ice, a spirited two-years old and unbroken horse; or as in a raging storm a helmless ship is beaten; or as if the halt were set to catch a reindeer in the thawing fell.[21] 91. Openly I now speak, because I both sexes know: unstable are men's minds towards women; 'tis then we speak most fair when we most falsely think: that deceives even the cautious. 92. Fair shall speak, and money offer, who would obtain a woman's love. Praise the form of a fair damsel; he gets who courts her. 93. At love should no one ever wonder in another: a beauteous countenance oft captivates the wise, which captivates not the foolish. 94. Let no one wonder at another's folly, it is the lot of many. All-powerful desire makes of the sons of men fools even of the wise. 95. The mind only knows what lies near the heart, that alone is conscious of our affections. No disease is worse to a sensible man than not to be content with himself. 96. That I experienced, when in the reeds I sat, awaiting my delight. Body and soul to me was that discreet maiden: nevertheless I possess her not. 97. Billing's lass[22] on her couch I found, sun-bright, sleeping. A prince's joy to me seemed naught, if not with that form to live. 98. "Yet nearer eve must thou, Odin, come, if thou wilt talk the maiden over; all will be disastrous, unless we alone are privy to such misdeed." 99. I returned, thinking to love, at her wise desire. I thought I should obtain her whole heart and love. 100. When next I came the bold warriors were all awake, with lights burning, and bearing torches: thus was the way to pleasure closed. 101. But at the approach of morn, when again I came, the household all was sleeping; the good damsel's dog alone I found tied to the bed. 102. Many a fair maiden, when rightly known, towards men is fickle: that I experienced, when that discreet maiden I strove to seduce: contumely of every kind that wily girl heaped upon me; nor of that damsel gained I aught. 103. At home let a man be cheerful, and towards a guest liberal; of wise conduct he should be, of good memory and ready speech; if much knowledge he desires, he must often talk on good. 104. Fimbulfambi he is called who' little has to say: such is the nature of the simple. 105. The old Jotun I sought; now I am come back: little got I there by silence; in many words I spoke to my advantage in Suttung's halls. 106. Gunnlod gave me, on her golden seat, a draught of the precious mead; a bad recompense I afterwards made her, for her whole soul, her fervent love. 107. Rati's mouth I caused to make a space, and to gnaw the rock; over and under me were the Jotun's ways: thus I my head did peril. 108. Of a well-assumed form I made good use: few things fail the wise; for Odhrærir is now come up to men's earthly dwellings. 109. 'Tis to me doubtful that I could have come from the Jotun's courts, had not Gunnlod aided me, that good damsel, over whom I laid my arm. 110. On the day following came the Hrimthursar, to learn something of the High One, in the High One's hall: after Bolverk they inquired, whether he with the gods were come, or Suttung had destroyed him? 111. Odin, I believe, a ring-oath[23] gave. Who in his faith will trust? Suttung defrauded, of his drink bereft, and Gunnlod made to weep! 112. Time 'tis to discourse from the preacher's chair. By the well of Urd I silent sat, I saw and meditated, I listened to men's words. 113. Of runes I heard discourse, and of things divine, nor of graving them were they silent, nor of sage counsels, at the High One's hall. In the High One's hall. I thus heard say: 114. I counsel thee, Loddfafnir, to take advice: thou wilt profit if thou takest it. Rise not at night, unless to explore, or art compelled to go out. 115. I counsel thee, Loddfafnir, to take advice, thou wilt profit if thou takest it. In an enchantress's embrace thou mayest not sleep, so that in her arms she clasp thee. 116. She will be the cause that thou carest not for Thing or prince's words; food thou wilt shun and human joys; sorrowful wilt thou go to sleep. 117. I counsel thee, etc. Another's wife entice thou never to secret converse. 118. I counsel thee, etc. By fell or firth if thou have to travel, provide thee well with food. 119. I counsel thee, etc. A bad man let thou never know thy misfortunes; for from a bad man thou never wilt obtain a return for thy good will. 120. I saw mortally wound a man a wicked woman's words; a false tongue caused his death, and most unrighteously. 121. I counsel thee, etc. If thou knowest thou hast a friend, whom thou well canst trust, go oft to visit him; for with brushwood over-grown, and with high grass, is the way that no one treads. 122. I counsel thee, etc. A good man attract to thee in pleasant converse; and salutary speech learn while thou livest. 123. I counsel thee, etc. With thy friend be thou never first to quarrel. Care gnaws the heart, if thou to no one canst thy whole mind disclose. 124. I counsel thee, etc. Words thou never shouldst exchange with a witless fool; 125. For from an ill-conditioned man thou wilt never get a return for good; but a good man will bring thee favour by his praise. 126. There is a mingling of affection, where one can tell another all his mind. Everything is better than being with the deceitful. He is not another's friend who ever says as he says. 127. I counsel thee, etc. Even in three words quarrel not with a worse man: often the better yields, when the worse strikes. 128. I counsel thee, etc. Be not a shoemaker, nor a shaftmaker, unless for thyself it be; for a shoe if ill made, or a shaft if crooked, will call down evil on thee. 129. I counsel thee, etc. Wherever of injury thou knowest, regard that injury as thy own; and give to thy foes no peace. 130. I counsel thee, etc. Rejoiced at evil be thou never; but let good give thee pleasure. 131. I counsel thee, etc. In a battle look not up, (like swine the sons of men then become) that men may not fascinate thee. 132. If thou wilt induce a good woman to pleasant converse, thou must promise fair, and hold to it: no one turns from good if it can be got. 133. I enjoin thee to be wary, but not over wary; at drinking be thou most wary, and with another's wife; and thirdly, that thieves delude thee not. 134. With insult or derision treat thou never a guest or wayfarer. They often little know, who sit within, of what race they are who come. 135. Vices and virtues the sons of mortals bear in their breasts mingled; no one is so good that no failing attends him, nor so bad as to be good for nothing. 136. At a hoary speaker laugh thou never; often is good that which the aged utter, oft from a shriveled hide discreet words issue; from those whose skin is pendent and decked with scars, and who go tottering among the vile. 137. I counsel thee, etc. Rail not at a guest, nor from thy gate thrust him; treat well the indigent; they will speak well of thee. 138. Strong is the bar that must be raised to admit all. Do thou give a penny, or they will call down on thee every ill in thy limbs. 139. I counsel thee, etc. Wherever thou beer drinkest, invoke to thee the power of earth; for earth is good against drink, fire for distempers, the oak for constipation, a corn-ear for sorcery, a hall for domestic strife. In bitter hates invoke the moon; the biter for bite-injuries is good; but runes against calamity; fluid let earth absorb. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 14: Odin is the "High One." The poem is a collection of rules and maxims, and stories of himself, some of them not very consistent with our ideas of a supreme deity.] [Footnote 15: In the Copenhagen paper Ms. F. this strophe begins with the following three lines:-- Wit is needful to him who travels far: harm seldom befalls the wary: They are printed in the Stockholm edition of the original Afzelius and Bask, and in the Swedish translation by Afzelius.] [Footnote 16: The sense of this line seems doubtful; I have adopted the version of Finn Magnusen.] [Footnote 17: The public meeting.] [Footnote 18: That is dead on the funeral pyre.] [Footnote 19: This line is evidently an interpolation.] [Footnote 20: Odin.] [Footnote 21: From this line it appears that the poem is of Norwegian or Swedish origin, as the reindeer was unknown in Iceland before the middle of the 18th century, when it was Introduced by royal command.] [Footnote 22: The story of Odin and Billing's daughter is no longer extant; but compare the story of Odin and Rinda in Saxo, p. 126, edit. Muller & Veleschow.] [Footnote 23: In the pagan North oaths were taken on a holy ring or bracelet, as with us on the Gospels, a sacred ring being kept in the temple for the purpose.] ODIN'S RUNE-SONG.[24] 140. I know that I hung, on a wind-rocked tree, nine whole nights, with a spear wounded, and to Odin offered, myself to myself; on that tree, of which no one knows from what root it springs. 141. Bread no one gave me, nor a horn of drink, downward I peered, to runes applied myself, wailing learnt them, then fell down thence. 142. Potent songs nine from the famed son I learned of Bolthorn, Bestla's sire, and a draught obtained of the precious mead, drawn from Odhrærir. 143. Then I began to bear fruit, and to know many things, to grow and well thrive: word by word I sought out words, fact by fact I sought out facts. 144. Runes thou wilt find, and explained characters, very large characters, very potent characters, which the great speaker depicted, and the high powers formed, and the powers' prince graved: 145. Odin among the Æsir, but among the Alfar, Dain, and Dvalin for the dwarfs, Asvid for the Jotuns: some I myself graved. 146. Knowest thou how to grave them? knowest thou how to expound them? knowest thou how to depict them? knowest thou how to prove them? knowest thou how to pray? knowest thou how to offer? knowest thou how to send?[25] knowest thou how to consume? 147. 'Tis better not to pray than too much offer; a gift ever looks to a return. 'Tis better not to send than too much consume. So Thund graved before the origin of men, where he ascended, to whence he afterwards came. 148. Those songs I know which the king's wife knows not nor son of man. Help the first is called, for that will help thee against strifes and cares. 149. For the second I know, what the sons of men require, who will as leeches live. * * * * 150. For the third I know,[26] if I have great need to restrain my foes, the weapons' edge I deaden: of my adversaries nor arms nor wiles harm aught. 151. For the fourth I know, if men place bonds on my limbs, I so sing that I can walk; the fetter starts from my feet, and the manacle from my hands. 152. For the fifth I know, if I see a shot from a hostile hand, a shaft flying amid the host, so swift it cannot fly that I cannot arrest it, if only I get sight of it. 153. For the sixth I know, if one wounds me with a green tree's roots;[27] also if a man declares hatred to me, harm shall consume them sooner than me. 154. For the seventh I know, if a lofty house I see blaze o'er its inmates, so furiously it shall not burn that I cannot save it. That song I can sing. 155. For the eighth I know, what to all is useful to learn: where hatred grows among the sons of men--that I can quickly assuage. 156. For the ninth I know, if I stand in need my bark on the water to save, I can the wind on the waves allay, and the sea lull. 157. For the tenth I know, if I see troll-wives sporting in air, I can so operate that they will forsake their own forms, and their own minds. 158. For the eleventh I know, if I have to lead my ancient friends to battle, under their shields I sing, and with power they go safe to the fight, safe from the fight; safe on every side they go. 159. For the twelfth I know, if on a tree I see a corpse swinging from a halter, I can so grave and in runes depict, that the man shall walk, and with me converse. 160. For the thirteenth I know, if on a young man I sprinkle water, he shall not fall, though he into battle come: that man shall not sink before swords. 161. For the fourteenth I know, if in the society of men I have to enumerate the gods, Æsir and Alfar, I know the distinctions of all. This few unskilled can do. 162. For the fifteenth I know what the dwarf Thiodreyrir sang before Delling's doors. Strength he sang to the Æsir, and to the Alfar prosperity, wisdom to Hroptatyr. 163. For the sixteenth I know, if a modest maiden's favour and affection I desire to possess, the soul I change of the white-armed damsel, and wholly turn her mind. 164. For the seventeenth I know, that that young maiden will reluctantly avoid me. These songs, Loddfafnir! thou wilt long have lacked; yet it may be good if thou understandest them, profitable if thou learnest them. 165. For the eighteenth I know that which I never teach to maid or wife of man, (all is better what one only knows. This is the closing of the songs) save her alone who clasps me in her arms, or is my sister. 166. Now are sung the High-one's songs, in the High-one's hall, to the sons of men all-useful, but useless to the Jotuns' sons. Hail to him who has sung them! Hail to him who knows them! May he profit who has learnt them! Hail to those who have listened to them! FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 24: The first eight strophes of this composition require an explanation which I am incompetent to afford. They have had many interpreters and as many interpretations. The idea of Odin hanging on a tree would seem to have been suggested by what we read of the grove at Upsala, or Sigtuna, in which the victims offered to that deity were suspended from the trees. In the guise of an unknown wanderer, Odin may be supposed to have been captured and thus offered to himself. It no doubt refers to some lost legend.] [Footnote 25: Probably, send them (the runes) forth on their several missions.] [Footnote 26: The miraculous powers here ascribed by Odin to himself bear, in many instances, a remarkable similarity to those attributed to him by Snorri.] [Footnote 27: The ancient inhabitants of the North believed that the roots of trees were particularly fitted for hurtful trolldom, or witchcraft, and that wounds caused thereby were mortal. In India a similar superstition prevails of the hurtfulness of the roots of trees.] THE LAY OF HYMIR. 1. Once the celestial gods had been taking fish, and were in compotation, ere they the truth discovered.[28] Rods[29] they shook, and blood inspected, when they found at Oegir's a lack of kettles. 2. Sat the rock-dweller glad as a child, much like the son of Miskorblindi. In his eyes looked Ygg's son steadfastly. "Thou to the Æsir shalt oft a compotation give." 3. Caused trouble to the Jotun th' unwelcome-worded As: he forthwith meditated vengeance on the gods. Sif's husband he besought a kettle him to bring, "in which I beer for all of you may brew." 4. The illustrious gods found that impossible, nor could the exalted powers it accomplish, till from true-heartedness, Ty to Hlorridi much friendly counsel gave. 5. "There dwells eastward of Elivagar the all-wise Hymir, at heaven's end. My sire, fierce of mood, a kettle owns, a capacious cauldron, a rast in depth." _Thor_. 6. "Knowest thou whether we can get the liquor-boiler?" _Ty_. "Yes, friend! if we stratagem' employ." Rapidly they drove forward that day from Asgard, till to the giant's home they came. 7. Thor stalled his goats, splendid of horn, then turned him to the hall that Hymir owned. The son his granddam found to him most loathful; heads she had nine hundred. 8. But another came all-golden forth, fair-browed, bearing the beer-cup to her son: 9. "Ye Jotuns' kindred! I will you both, ye daring pair, under the kettles place. My husband is oftentimes niggard towards guests, to ill-humour prone." 10. But the monster, the fierce-souled Hymir, late returned home from the chase. He the hall entered, the icebergs resounded, as the churl approached; the thicket on his cheeks was frozen. 11. "Hail to thee, Hymir! be of good cheer: now thy son is come to thy hall, whom we expected from his long journey; him accompanies our famed adversary, the friend of man, who Veor hight. 12. See where they sit under the hall's gable, as if to shun thee: the pillar stands before them." In shivers flew the pillar at the Jotun's glance; the beam was first broken in two. 13. Eight kettles fell, but only one of them, a hard-hammered cauldron, whole from the column. The two came forth, but the old Jotun with eyes surveyed his adversary. 14. Augured to him his mind no good, when he saw the giantess's sorrow on the floor coming. Then were three oxen taken, and the Jotun bade them forthwith be boiled. 15. Each one they made by the head shorter, and to the fire afterwards bore them. Sif's consort ate, ere to sleep he went, completely, he alone, two of Hymir's beeves. 16. Seemed to the hoary friend of Hrungnir Hlorridi's refection full well large: "We three to-morrow night shall be compelled on what we catch to live." 17. Veor said he would on the sea row, if the bold Jotun him would with baits supply: "To the herd betake thee, (if thou in thy courage trustest, crusher of the rock-dwellers!) for baits to seek. 18. I expect that thou wilt bait from an ox easily obtain." The guest in haste to the forest went, where stood an all-black ox before him. 19. The Thursar's bane wrung from an ox the high fastness of his two horns. "To me thy work seems worse by far, ruler of keels! than if thou hadst sat quiet." 20. The lord of goats the apes' kinsman besought the horse of plank farther out to move; but the Jotun declared his slight desire farther to row. 21. The mighty Hymir drew, he alone, two whales up with his hook; but at the stern abaft Veor cunningly made him a line. 22. Fixed on the hook the shield of men, the serpent's slayer, the ox's head. Gaped at the bait the foe of gods, the encircler beneath of every land.[30] 23. Drew up boldly the mighty Thor the worm with venom glistening, up to the side; with his hammer struck, on his foul head's summit, like a rock towering, the wolf's own brother. 24. The icebergs resounded, the caverns howled, the old earth shrank together: at length the fish back into ocean sank.[31] 25. The Jotun was little glad, as they rowed back, so that the powerful Hymir nothing spake, but the oar moved in another course. 26. "Wilt thou do half the work with me, either the whales home to the dwelling bear, or the boat fast bind?" 27. Hlorridi went, grasped the prow, quickly, with its hold-water, lifted the water-steed, together with its oars and scoop; bore to the dwelling the Jotun's ocean-swine, the curved vessel, through the wooded hills. 28. But the Jotun yet ever frowned, to strife accustomed, with Thor disputed, said that no one was strong, however vigorously he might row, unless he his cup could break. 29. But Hlorridi, when to his hands it came, forthwith brake an upright stone in twain; sitting dashed the cup through the pillars: yet they brought it whole to Hymir back. 30. Until the beauteous woman gave important, friendly counsel, which she only knew: "Strike at the head of Hymir, the Jotun with food oppressed, that is harder than any cup." 31. Rose then on his knee the stern lord of goats, clad in all his godlike power. Unhurt remained the old man's helm-block, but the round wine-bearer was in shivers broken. 32. "Much good, I know, has departed from me, now that my cup I see hurled from my knees." Thus the old man spake: "I can never say again, beer thou art too hot. 33. "Now 'tis to be tried if ye can carry the beer-vessel out of our dwelling." Ty twice assayed to move the vessel, yet at each time stood the kettle fast. 34. Then Modi's father by the brim grasped it, and trod through the dwelling's floor. Sif's consort lifted the kettle on his head, while about his heels its rings jingled. 35. They had far journeyed before Odin's son cast one look backward: he from the caverns saw, with Hymir from the east, a troop of many-headed monsters coming. 36. From his shoulders he lifted the kettle down; Miollnir hurled forth towards the savage crew, and slew all the mountain-giants, who with Hymir had him pursued. 37. Long they had not journeyed when of Hlorridi's goats one lay down half-dead before the car. It from the pole had sprung across the trace; but the false Loki was of this the cause. 38. Now ye have heard,--for what fabulist can more fully tell--what indemnity he from the giant got: he paid for it with his children both.[32] 39. In his strength exulting he to the gods' council came, and had the kettle, which Hymir had possessed, out of which every god shall beer with Oegir drink at every harvest-tide. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 28: To wit, that they were short of kettles for brewing.] [Footnote 29: That is divining rods.] [Footnote 30: The great serpent that encircles the earth.] [Footnote 31: According to the Prose Edda, the giant, overcome with fright, took out his knife and severed Thor's line.] [Footnote 32: This strophe belongs apparently to another poem.] THE LAY OF THRYM, OR THE HAMMER RECOVERED. 1. Wroth was Vingthor, when he awoke, and his hammer missed; his beard he shook, his forehead struck, the son of earth felt all around him; 2. And first of all these words he uttered: "Hear now, Loki! what I now say, which no one knows anywhere on earth, nor in heaven above; the As's hammer is stolen!" 3. They went to the fair Freyia's dwelling, and he these words first of all said: "Wilt thou me, Freyia, thy feather-garment lend, that perchance my hammer I may find?" _Freyia._ 4. "That I would give thee, although of gold it were, and trust it to thee, though it were of silver." 5. Flew then Loki--the plumage rattled--until he came beyond the Æsir's dwellings, and came within the Jotun's land. 6. On a mound sat Thrym, the Thursar's lord, for his greyhounds plaiting gold bands and his horses' manes smoothing. 7. "How goes it with the Æsir? How goes it with the Alfar? Why art thou come alone to Jotunheim?" _Loki_. 8. "Ill it goes with the Æsir, Ill it goes with the Alfar. Hast thou Hlorridi's hammer hidden?" _Thrym_. 9. "I have Hlorridi's hammer hidden eight rasts beneath the earth; it shall no man get again, unless he bring me Freyia to wife." 10. Flew then Loki--the plumage rattled--until he came beyond the Jotun's dwellings, and came within the Æsir's courts; there he met Thor, in the middle court, who these words first of all uttered. 11. "Hast thou had success as well as labour? Tell me from the air the long tidings. Oft of him who sits are the tales defective, and he who lies down utters falsehood." _Loki_. 12. "I have had labour and success: Thrym has thy hammer, the Thursar's lord. It shall no man get again, unless he bring him Freyia to wife." 13. They went the fair Freyia to find; and he those words first of all said: "Bind thee, Freyia, in bridal raiment, we two must drive to Jotunheim." 14. Wroth then was Freyia, and with anger chafed, all the Æsir's hall beneath her trembled: in shivers flew the famed Brisinga necklace. "Know me to be of women lewdest, if with thee I drive to Jotunheim." 15. Straightway went the Æsir all to council, and the Asyniur all to hold converse; and deliberated the mighty gods, how they Hlorridi's hammer might get back. 16. Then said Heimdall, of Æsir brightest--he well foresaw, like other Vanir--"Let us clothe Thor with bridal raiment, let him have the famed Brisinga necklace. 17. "Let by his side keys jingle, and woman's weeds fall round his knees, but on his breast place precious stones, and a neat coif set on his head." 18. Then said Thor, the mighty As: "Me the Æsir will call womanish, if I let myself be clad in bridal raiment." 19. Then spake Loki, Laufey's son: "Do thou, Thor! refrain from suchlike words: forthwith the Jotuns will Asgard inhabit, unless thy hammer thou gettest back." 20. Then they clad Thor in bridal raiment, and with the noble Brisinga necklace, let by his side keys jingle, and woman's weeds fall round his knees; and on his breast placed precious stones, and a neat coif set on his head. 21. Then said Loki, Laufey's son: "I will with thee as a servant go: we two will drive to Jotunheim." 22. Straightway were the goats homeward driven, hurried to the traces; they had fast to run. The rocks were shivered, the earth was in a blaze; Odin's son drove to Jotunheim. 23. Then said Thrym, the Thursar's lord: "Rise up, Jotuns! and the benches deck, now they bring me Freyia to wife, Niord's daughter, from Noatun. 24. "Hither to our court let bring gold-horned cows, all-black oxen, for the Jotuns' joy. Treasures I have many, necklaces many, Freyia alone seemed to me wanting." 25. In the evening they early came, and for the Jotuns beer was brought forth. Thor alone an ox devoured, salmons eight, and all the sweetmeats women should have. Sif's consort drank three salds of mead. 26. Then said Thrym, the Thursar's prince: "Where hast thou seen brides eat more voraciously? I never saw brides feed more amply, nor a maiden drink more mead." 27. Sat the all-crafty serving-maid close by, who words fitting found against the Jotun's speech: "Freyia has nothing eaten for eight nights, so eager was she for Jotunheim." 28. Under her veil he stooped desirous to salute her, but sprang back along the hall. "Why are so piercing Freyia's looks? Methinks that fire burns from her eyes." 29. Sat the all-crafty serving-maid close by, who words fitting found against the Jotun's speech: "Freyia for eight nights has not slept, so eager was she for Jotunheim." 30. In came the Jotun's luckless sister, for a bride-gift she dared to ask: "Give me from thy hands the ruddy rings, if thou wouldst gain my love, my love and favour all." 31. Then said Thrym, the Thursar's lord: "Bring the hammer in, the bride to consecrate; lay Miollnir on the maiden's knee; unite us each with other by the hand of Vor." 32. Laughed Hlorridi's soul in his breast, when the fierce-hearted his hammer recognized. He first slew Thrym, the Thursar's lord, and the Jotun's race all crushed; 33. He slew the Jotun's aged sister, her who a bride-gift had demanded; she a blow got instead of skillings, a hammer's stroke for many rings. So got Odin's son his hammer back. THE LAY OF THE DWARF ALVIS. _Alvis_. 1. The benches they are decking, now shall the bride[33] with me bend her way home. That beyond my strength I have hurried will to every one appear: at home naught shall disturb my quiet. _Vingthor_. 2. What man is this? Why about the nose art thou so pale? Hast thou last night with corpses lain? To me thou seemst to bear resemblance to the Thursar. Thou art not born to carry off a bride. _Alvis_. 3. Alvis I am named, beneath the earth I dwell, under the rock I own a place. The lord of chariots I am come to visit. A promise once confirmed let no one break.[34] _Vingthor_. 4. I will break it; for o'er the maid I have, as father, greatest power. I was from home when the promise was given thee. Among the gods I the sole giver am. _Alvis_. 5. What man is this, who lays claim to power over that fair, bright maiden? For far-reaching shafts few will know thee. Who has decked thee with bracelets? _Vingthor_. 6. Vingthor I am named, wide I have wandered; I am Sidgrani's son: with my dissent thou shalt not that young maiden have, nor that union obtain. _Alvis_. 7. Thy consent I fain would have, and that union obtain. Rather would I possess than be without that snow-white maiden. _Vingthor_. 8. The maiden's love shall not, wise guest! be unto thee denied, if thou of every world canst tell all I desire to know. _Alvis_. 9. Vingthor! thou canst try, as thou art desirous the knowledge of the dwarf to prove. All the nine worlds I have travelled over, and every being known. _Vingthor_. 10. Tell me, Alvis!--for all men's concerns I presume thee, dwarf, to know--how the earth is called, which lies before the sons of men, in every world. _Alvis_. 11. Jord among men 'tis called, but with the Æsir fold; the Vanir call it vega, the Jotuns igroen, the Alfar groandi, the powers supreme aur. _Vingthor_. 12. Tell me, Alvis, etc. how the heaven is called, which is perceptible in every world. _Alvis_. 13. Himinn 'tis called by men; but hlyrnir with the gods; vindofni the Vanir call it, uppheimr the Jotuns, the Alfar fagraræfr, the dwarfs driupansal. _Vingthor_. 14. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the moon is called, which men see in every world. _Alvis_. 15. Mani 'tis called by men, but mylinn with the gods, hverfanda hvel in Hel[35] they call it, skyndi the Jotuns, but the dwarfs skin; the Alfar name it artali. _Vingthor_. 16. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the sun is called, which men's sons see in every world. _Alvis_. 17. Sol among men 'tis called, but with the gods sunna, the dwarfs call it Dvalinn's leika, the Jotuns eyglo, the Alfar fagrahvel, the Æsir's sons alskir. _Vingthor_. 18. Tell me, Alvis, etc., how the clouds are called, which with showers are mingled in every world. _Alvis_. 19. Sky they are called by men, but skurvan by the gods; the Vanir call them vindflot, the Jotuns urvan, the Alfar vedrmegin; in Hel they are called hialm hulids. _Vingthor_. 20. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the wind is called, which widely passes over every world. _Alvis_. 21. Windr 'tis called by men, but vavudr by the gods, the wide-ruling powers call it gneggiud, the Jotuns oepir, the Alfar dynfari, in Hel they call it hvidudr. _Vingthor_. 22. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the calm is called, which has to rest in every world. _Alvis_. 23. Logn 'tis called by men, but lægi by the gods, the Vanir call it vindslot, the Jotuns ofhly, the Alfar dagsevi, the Dwarfs call it dags vera. _Vingthor_. 24. Tell me, Alvis! etc., what the sea is called, which men row over in every world. _Alvis_. 25. Sær 'tis called by men, but silægia with the gods; the vanir call it vagr, the Jotuns alheimr, the Alfar lagastafr, the Dwarfs call it diupan mar. _Vingthor_. 26. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the fire is called, which burns before men's sons in every world. _Alvis_. 27. Eldr 'tis called by men, but by the Æsir funi; the Vanir call it vagr, the Jotuns frekr, but the Dwarfs forbrennir; in Hel they call it hrodudr. _Vingthor_. 28. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the forest is called, which grows for the sons of men in every world. _Alvis_. 29. Vidr 'tis called by men, but vallarfax by the gods, Hel's inmates call it hlidthangr, the Jotuns eldi, the Alfar fagrlimi; the Vanir call it vondr. _Vingthor_. 30. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the night is called, that Norvi's daughter hight, in every world. _Alvis_. 31. Nott it is called by men, but by the gods niol; the wide-ruling powers call it grima, the Jotuns olios, the Alfar svefngaman; the Dwarfs call it draumniorunn. _Vingthor_. 32. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the seed is called, which the sons of men sow in every world. _Alvis_. 33. Bygg it is called by men, but by the gods barr, the Vanir call it vaxtr, the Jotuns æti, the Alfar lagastafr; in Hel 'tis hnipinn called. _Vingthor_. 34. Tell me, Alvis! etc., how the beer is called, which the sons of men drink in every world. _Alvis_. 35. Ol it is called by men, but by the Æsir biorr, the Vanir call it veig, hreina logr the Jotuns, but in Hel 'tis called miodr: Suttung's sons call it sumbl. _Vingthor_. 36. In one breast I have never found more ancient lore. By great wiles thou hast, I tell thee, been deluded. Thou art above ground, dwarf! at dawn; already in the hall the sun is shining! FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 33: Thrud, Thor's daughter by his wife Sif. _Skaldskap_.] [Footnote 34: This appears to allude to a promise made to the dwarf; but of which the story is lost.] [Footnote 35: When this composition was written, it appears that Hel was no longer regarded as a person, but as a place.] THE LAY OF HARBARD. Thor journeying from the eastern parts came to a strait or sound, on the other side of which was a ferryman with his boat. Thor cried out:-- 1. Who is the knave of knaves, that by the sound stands yonder? _Harbard_. 2. Who is the churl of churls, that cries across the water? _Thor_. 3. Ferry me across the sound, to-morrow I'll regale thee. I have a basket on my back: there is no better food: at my ease I ate, before I quitted home, herrings and oats, with which I yet feel sated. _Harbard_. 4. Thou art in haste to praise thy meal: thou surely hast no foreknowledge; for sad will be thy home: thy mother, I believe, is dead. _Thor_. 5. Thou sayest now what seems to every one most unwelcome to know--that my mother is dead. _Harbard_. 6. Thou dost not look like one who owns three country dwellings, bare-legged thou standest, and like a beggar clothed; thou hast not even breeches. _Thor_. 7. Steer hitherward thy boat; I will direct thee where to land. But who owns this skiff, which by the strand thou holdest? _Harbard_. 8. Hildolf fief is named who bade me hold it, a man in council wise, who dwells in Radso sound. Robbers he bade me not to ferry, or horse-stealers, but good men only, and those whom I well knew. Tell me then thy name, if thou wilt cross the sound. _Thor_. 9. I my name will tell, (although I am an outlaw) and all my kin: I am Odin's son, Meili's brother, and Magni's sire, the gods' mighty leader: With Thor thou here mayest speak. I will now ask how thou art called. _Harbard_. 10. I am Harbard called; seldom I my name conceal. _Thor_. 11. Why shouldst thou thy name conceal, unless thou crime hast perpetrated? _Harbard_. 12. Yet, though I may crime have perpetrated, I will nathless guard my life against such as thou art; unless I death-doomed am. _Thor_. 13. It seems to me a foul annoyance to wade across the strait to thee, and wet my garments: but I will pay thee, mannikin! for thy sharp speeches, if o'er the sound I come. _Harbard_. 14. Here will I stand, and here await thee. Thou wilt have found no stouter one since Hrungnir's death. _Thor_. 15. Thou now remindest me how I with Hrungnir fought, that stout-hearted Jotun, whose head was all of stone; yet I made him fall, and sink before me. What meanwhile didst thou, Harbard? _Harbard_. 16. I was with Fiolvari five winters through, in the isle which Algron hight. There we could fight, and slaughter make, many perils prove, indulge in love. _Thor_. 17. How did your women prove towards you? _Harbard_. 18. Sprightly women we had, had they but been meek; shrewd ones we had, had they but been kind. Of sand a rope they twisted, and from the deep valley dug the earth: to them all I alone was superior in cunning. I rested with the sisters seven, and their love and pleasures shared. What meanwhile didst thou, Thor? _Thor_. 19. I slew Thiassi, that stout-hearted Jotun: up I cast the eyes of Allvaldi's son into the heaven serene: they are signs the greatest of my deeds. What meanwhile didst thou, Harbard? _Harbard_. 20. Great seductive arts I used against the riders of the night,[36] when from their husbands I enticed them. A mighty Jotun I believed Hlebard to be: a magic wand he gave me, but from his wits I charmed him. _Thor_. 21. With evil mind then thou didst good gifts requitè _Harbard_. 22. One tree gets that which, is from another scraped: each one in such case is for self. What meanwhile didst thou, Thor? _Thor_. 23. In the east I was, and slew the Jotun brides, crafty in evil, as they to the mountain went. Great would have been the Jotun race, had they all lived; and not a man left in Midgard. What meanwhile didst thou, Harbard? _Harbard_. 24. I was in Valland, and followed warfare; princes I excited, but never reconciled. Odin has all the jarls that in conflict fall; but Thor the race of thralls. _Thor_. 25. Unequally thou wouldst divide the folk among the Æsir, if thou but hadst the power. _Harbard_. 36. Thor has strength over-much, but courage none; from cowardice and fear, thou wast crammed into a glove, and hardly thoughtest thou wast Thor. Thou durst not then, through thy terror, either sneeze or cough, lest Fialar it might hear. _Thor_. 27. Harbard, thou wretch! I would strike thee dead, could I but stretch my arm across the sound. _Harbard_. 28. Why wouldst thou stretch thy arm across the sound, when there is altogether no offence? But what didst thou, Thor? _Thor_. 39. In the east I was, and a river I defended, when the sons of Svarang me assailed, and with stones pelted me, though in their success they little joyed: they were the first to sue for peace. What meanwhile didst thou, Harbard? _Harbard_. 30. I was in the east, and with a certain lass held converse; with that fair I dallied, and long meetings had. I that gold-bright one delighted; the game amused her. _Thor_. 31. Then you had kind damsels there? _Harbard_. 32. Of thy aid I had need, Thor! in retaining that maiden lily-fair. _Thor_. 33. I would have given it thee, if I had had the opportunity. _Harbard_. 34. I would have trusted thee, my confidence if thou hadst not betrayed it. _Thor_. 35. I am not such a heel-chafer as an old leather shoe in spring. _Harbard_. 36. What meanwhile didst thou, Thor? _Thor_. 37. The Berserkers' brides I on Læsso cudgeled; they the worst had perpetrated, the whole people, had seduced. _Harbard_. 38. Dastardly didst thou act, Thor! when thou didst cudgel women. _Thor_. 39. She-wolves they were, and scarcely women. They crushed my ship, which with props I had secured, with iron clubs threatened me, and drove away Thialfi. What meanwhile didst thou, Harbard? _Harbard_. 40. I in the army was, which was hither sent, war-banners to raise, lances to redden. _Thor_. 41. Of that thou now wilt speak, as thou wentest forth us hard terms to offer. _Harbard_. 42. That shall be indemnified by a hand-ring, such as arbitrators give, who wish to reconcile us. _Thor_. 43. Where didst thou learn words than which I never heard more irritating? _Harbard_. 44. From men I learned them, from ancient men, whose home is in the woods. _Thor_. 45. Thou givest certainly a good name to grave-mounds, when thou callest them, homes in the woods. _Harbard_. 46. So speak I of such a subject. _Thor_. 47. Thy shrewd words will bring thee evil, if I resolve the sound to ford. Louder than a wolf thou wilt howl, I trow, if of my hammer thou gettest a touch. _Harbard_. 48. Sif has a gallant at home; thou wilt anxious be to find him: thou shalt that arduous work perform; it will beseem thee better. _Thor_. 49. Thou utterest what comes upmost, so that to me it be most annoying, thou dastardly varlet! I believe thou art lying. _Harbard_. 50. I believe I am telling truth. Thou art travelling slowly; thou wouldst have long since arrived, hadst thou assumed another form. _Thor_. 51. Harbard! thou wretch! rather is it thou who hast detained me. _Harbard_. 52. I never thought that a ferryman could the course of Asa-Thor retard. _Thor_. 53. One advice I now will give thee: row hither with thy boat; let us cease from threats; approach the sire of Magni. _Harbard_. 54. Go farther from the sound, the passage is refused thee. _Thor_. 55. Show me then the way, if thou wilt not ferry me across the water. _Harbard_. 56. That's too little to refuse. 'Tis far to go; 'tis to the stock an hour, and to the stone another; then keep the left hand way, until thou reachest Verland; there will Fiorgyn find her son Thor, and point out to him his kinsmen's ways to Odin's land. _Thor_. 57. Can I get there to-day? _Harbard_. 58. With pain and toil thou mayest get there, while the sun is up, which, I believe, is now nigh. _Thor_. 59. Our talk shall now be short, as thou answerest with scoffing only. For refusing to ferry me I will reward thee, if another time we meet. _Harbard_. 60. Just go to where all the powers of evil may have thee. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 36: Giantesses, witches, etc.] THE JOURNEY OR LAY OF SKIRNIR. Frey, son of Niord; had one day seated himself in Hlidskialf, and was looking over all regions, when turning his eyes to Jotunheim, he there saw a beautiful girl, as she was passing from her father's dwelling to her bower. Thereupon he became greatly troubled in mind. Frey's attendant was named Skirnir; him Niord desired to speak with Frey; when Skadi said:-- 1. Rise up now, Skirnir! go and request our son to speak; and inquire with whom he so sage may be offended. _Skirnir_. 2. Harsh words I have from your son to fear, if I go to speak with him, and to inquire with whom he so sage may be offended. _Skirnir_. 3. Tell me now, Frey, prince of gods! for I desire to know, why alone thou sittest in the spacious hall the livelong day? _Frey_. 4. Why shall I tell thee, thou young man, my mind's great trouble? for the Alfs' illuminator shines every day, yet not for my pleasure. _Skirnir_. 5. Thy care cannot, I think, be so great, that to me thou canst not tell it; for in early days we were young together: well might we trust each other. _Frey_. 6. In Gymir's courts I saw walking a maid for whom I long. Her arms gave forth light wherewith shone all air and water. 7. Is more desirable to me that maid than to any youth in early days; yet will no one, Æsir or Alfar, that we together live. _Skirnir_. 8. Give me but thy steed, which can bear me through the dusk, flickering flame, and that sword, which brandishes itself against the Jotuns' race. _Frey_. 9. I will give thee my steed, which can bear thee through the dusk, flickering flame, and that sword, which will itself brandish, if he is bold who raises it. _Skirnir Speaks to the Horse_. 10. Dark it is without, 'tis time, I say, for us to go across the misty fells, over the Thursar's land: we shall both return, or the all-potent Jotun will seize us both. Skirnir rides to Jotunheim, to Gymir's mansion, where fierce dogs were chained at the gate of the enclosure that was round Gymir's hall. He rides on to where a cowherd was sitting on a mound, and says to him: 11. Tell me, cowherd! as on the mound thou sittest, and watchest all the ways, how I to the speech may come, of the young maiden, for Gymir's dogs? _Cowherd_. 12. Either thou art death-doomed, or thou art a departed one. Speech wilt thou ever lack with the good maid of Gymir. _Skirnir_. 13. Better choices than to whine there are for him who is prepared to die: for one day was my age decreed, and my whole life determined. _Gerd_. 14. What is that sound of sounds, which I now sounding hear within our dwelling? The earth is shaken, and with it all the house of Gymir trembles. _A serving-maid_. 15. A man is here without, dismounted from his horse's back: he lets his steed browse on the grass. _Gerd_. 16. Bid him enter into our hall, and drink of the bright mead; although I fear it is my brother's slayer who waits without. 17. Who is this of the Alfar's, or of the Æsir's sons, or of the wise Vanir's? Why art thou come alone, through the hostile fire, our halls to visit? _Skirnir_. 18. I am not of the Alfar's, nor of the Æsir's sons, nor of the wise Vanir's; yet I am come alone, through the hostile fire, your halls to visit. 19. Apples all-golden I have here eleven: these I will give thee, Gerd, thy love to gain, that thou mayest say that Frev to thee lives dearest. _Gerd_. 20. The apples eleven I never will accept for any mortal's pleasure; nor will I and Frey, while our lives last, live both together. _Skirnir_. 21. The ring too I will give thee, which was burnt with the young son of Odin. Eight of equal weight will from it drop, every ninth night. _Gerd_. 22. The ring I will not accept, burnt though it may have been with the young son of Odin. I have no lack of gold in Gymir's courts; for my father's wealth I share. _Skirnir_. 23. Seest thou this sword, young maiden! thin, glittering-bright, which I have here in hand? I thy head will sever from thy neck, if thou speakst not favourably to me. _Gerd_. 24. Suffer compulsion will I never, to please any man; yet this I foresee, if thou and Gymir meet, ye will eagerly engage in fight. _Skirnir_. 25. Seest thou this sword, young maiden! thin, glittering-bright, which I have here in hand? Beneath its edge shall the old Jotun fall: thy sire is death-doomed. 26. With a taming-wand I smite thee, and I will tame thee, maiden! to my will. Thou shalt go thither, where the sons of men shall never more behold thee. 27. On an eagle's mount thou shalt early sit, looking and turned towards Hel. Food shall to thee more loathsome be than is to any one the glistening serpent among men. 28. As a prodigy thou shalt be, when thou goest forth; Hrimnir shall at thee gaze, all beings at thee stare; more wide-known thou shalt become than the watch among the gods,[37] if thou from thy gratings gape. 29. Solitude and disgust, bonds and impatience, shall thy tears with grief augment. Set thee down, and I will tell thee of a whelming flood of care, and a double grief. 30. Terrors shall bow thee down the livelong day, in the Jotuns' courts. To the Hrimthursar's halls, thou shalt each day crawl exhausted, joyless crawl; wail for pastime shalt thou have, and tears and misery. 31. With a three-headed Thurs thou shalt be ever bound, or be without a mate. Thy mind shall tear thee from morn to morn: as the thistle thou shalt be which has thrust itself on the house-top. 32. To the wold I have been, and to the humid grove, a magic wand to get. A magic wand I got. 33. Wroth with thee is Odin, wroth with thee is the Æsir's prince; Frey shall loathe thee, even ere thou, wicked maid! shalt have felt the gods' dire vengeance. 34. Hear ye, Jotuns! hear ye, Hrimthursar! sons of Suttung! also ye, Æsir's friends! how I forbid, how I prohibit man's joy unto the damsel, man's converse to the damsel. 35. Hrimgrimnir the Thurs is named, that shall possess thee, in the grating of the dead beneath; there shall wretched thralls, from the tree's roots, goats' water give thee. Other drink shalt thou, maiden! never get, either for thy pleasure, or for my pleasure. 36. Thurs[38] I cut for thee, and three letters mere: ergi, and oedi, and othola. So will I cut them out, as I have cut them, in, if there need shall be. _Gerd_. 37. Hail rather to thee, youth! and accept an icy cup, filled with old mead; although I thought not that I ever should love one of Vanir race. _Skirnir_. 38. All my errand will I know, ere I hence ride home. When wilt thou converse hold with the powerful son of Niord? _Gerd_. 39. Barri the grove is named, which we both know, the grove of tranquil paths. Nine nights hence, there to Niord's son Gerd will grant delight. Skimir then rode home. Frey was standing without, and spoke to him, asking tidings: 40. Tell me, Skirnir! ere thou thy steed unsaddlest, and a foot hence thou goest, what thou hast accomplished in Jotunheim, for my pleasure or thine? _Skirnir_. 41. Barri the grove is named, which we both know, the grove of tranquil paths. Nine nights hence, there to Niord's son Gerd will grant delight. _Frey_. 42. Long is one night, yet longer two will be; how shall I three endure. Often a month to me less has seemed than half a night of longing. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 37: Heimdall.] [Footnote 38: Thurs, etc., the names of magical runes.] THE LAY OF RIG. In ancient Sagas it is related that one of the Æsir named Heimdall, being on a journey to a certain sea-shore, came to a village, where he called himself Rig. In accordance with this Saga is the following: 1. In ancient days, they say, along the green ways went the powerful and upright sagacious As, the strong and active Rig, his onward course pursuing. 2. Forward he went on the mid-way, and to a dwelling came. The door stood ajar, he went in, fire was on the floor. The man and wife sat there, hoary-haired, by the hearth, Ai and Edda, in old guise clad. 3. Rig would counsel give to them both, and himself seated in the middle seat, having on either side the domestic pair. 4. Then Edda from the ashes took a loaf, heavy and thick, and with bran mixed; more besides she laid on the middle of the board; there in a bowl was broth on the table set, there was a calf boiled, of cates most excellent. 5. Then rose he up, prepared to sleep: Rig would counsel give to them both; laid him down in the middle of the bed; the domestic pair lay one on either side. 6. There he continued three nights together, then departed on the mid-way. Nine months then passed way. 7. Edda a child brought forth: they with water sprinkled its swarthy skin, and named it Thræl. 8. It grew up, and well it throve; of its hands the skin was shriveled, the knuckles knotty, * * * and the fingers thick; a hideous countenance it had, a curved back, and protruding heels. 9. He then began his strength to prove, bast to bind, make of it loads; then faggots carried home, the livelong day. 10. Then to the dwelling came a woman walking, scarred were her foot-soles, her arms sunburnt, her nose compressed, her name was Thy. 11. In the middle seat herself she placed; by her sat the house's son. They spoke and whispered, prepared a bed, Thræl and Thy, and days of care. 12. Children they begat, and lived content: Their names, I think, were Hreimr and Fiosnir, Klur and Kleggi, Kefsir, Fulnir, Drumb, Digraldi, Drott and Hosvir, Lut and Leggialdi. Fences they erected, fields manured, tended swine, kept goats, dug turf. 13. The daughters were Drumba and Kumba, Okkvinkalfa, and Arinnefia, Ysia and Ambatt, Eikintiasna, Totrughypia, and Tronubeina, whence are sprung the race of thralls. 14. Rig then went on, in a direct course, and came to a house; the door stood ajar: he went in; fire was on the floor, man and wife sat there engaged at work. 15. The man was planing wood for a weaver's beam; his beard was trimmed, a lock was on his forehead, his shirt close; his chest stood on the floor. 16. His wife sat by, plied her rock, with outstretched arms, prepared for clothing. A hood was on her head, a loose sark over her breast, a kerchief round her neck, studs on her shoulders. Afi and Amma owned the house. 17. Rig would counsel give to them both; rose from the table, prepared to sleep; laid him down in the middle of the bed, the domestic pair lay one on either side. 18. There he continued three nights together. Nine months then passed away. Amma a child brought forth, they with water sprinkled it, and called it Karl. The mother in linen swathed the ruddy redhead: its eyes twinkled. 19. It grew up, and well throve; learned to tame oxen, make a plough, houses build, and barns construct, make carts, and the plough drive. 20. Then they home conveyed a lass with pendent keys, and goatskin kirtle; married her to Karl. Snor was her name, under a veil she sat. The couple dwelt together, rings exchanged, spread couches, and a household formed. 21. Children they begat, and lived content. Hal and Dreng, these were named, Held, Thegn, Smith, Breidr-bondi, Bundinskegg, Bui and Boddi, Brattskegg and Segg. 22. But [the daughters] were thus called, by other names: Snot, Brud, Svanni, Svarri, Sprakki, Fliod, Sprund, and Vif, Feima, Ristil; whence are sprung the races of churls. 23. Rig then went thence, in a direct course, and came to a hall: the entrance looked southward, the door was half closed, a ring was on the door-post. 24. He went in; the floor was strewed, a couple sat facing each other, Fadir and Modir, with fingers playing. 25. The husband sat, and twisted string, bent his bow, and arrow-shafts prepared; but the housewife looked on her arms, smoothed her veil, and her sleeves fastened; 26. Her head-gear adjusted. A clasp was on her breast; ample her robe, her sark was blue; brighter was her brow, her breast fairer, her neck whiter than driven snow. 27. Rig would counsel give to them both, and himself seated on the middle seat, having on either side the domestic pair. 28. Then took Modir a figured cloth of white linen, and the table decked. She then took thin cakes of snow-white wheat, and on the table laid. 29. She set forth salvers full, adorned with silver, on the table game and pork, and roasted birds. In a can was wine; the cups were ornamented. They drank and talked; the day was fast departing, Rig would counsel give to them both. 30. Rig then rose, the bed prepared; there he then remained three nights together, then departed on the mid-way. Nine months after that passed away. 31. Modir then brought forth a boy: in silk they wrapped him, with water sprinkled him, and named him Jarl. Light was his hair, bright his cheeks, his eyes piercing as a young serpent's. 32. There at home Jarl grew up, learned the shield to shake, to fix the string, the bow to bend, arrows to shaft, javelins to hurl, spears to brandish, horses to ride, dogs to let slip, swords to draw, swimming to practise. 33. Thither from the forest came Rig walking, Rig walking: runes he taught him, his own name gave him, and his own son declared him, whom he bade possess his alodial fields, his alodial fields, his ancient dwellings. 34. Jarl then rode thence, through a murky way, over humid fells, till to a hall he came. His spear he brandished, his shield he shook, made his horse curvet, and his falchion drew, strife began to raise, the field to redden, carnage to make; and conquer lands. 35. Then he ruled alone over eight vills, riches distributed, gave to all treasures and precious things; lank-sided horses, rings he dispersed, and collars cut in pieces.[39] 36. The nobles drove through humid ways, came to a hall, where Hersir dwelt; there they found a slender maiden, fair and elegant, Erna her name. 37. They demanded her, and conveyed her home, to Jarl espoused her; she under the linen[40] went. They together lived, and well throve, had offspring, and old age enjoyed. 38. Bur was their eldest, Barn the second, Jod and Adal, Arfi, Mog, Nid and Nidjung. They learned games; Son and Svein swam and at tables played. One was named Kund, Kon was youngest. 39. There grew up Jarl's progeny; horses they broke, curved shields, cut arrows, brandished spears. 40. But the young Kon understood runes, æfin-runes, and aldr-runes; he moreover knew men to preserve, edges to deaden, the sea to calm. 41. He knew the voice of birds, how fires to mitigate, assuage and quench; sorrows to allay. He of eight men had the strength and energy. 42. He with Rig Jarl in runes contended, artifices practised, and superior proved; then acquired Rig to be called, and skilled in runes. 43. The young Kon rode through swamps and forests, hurled forth darts, and tamed birds. 44. Then sang the crow, sitting lonely on a bough! "Why wilt thou, young Kon: tame the birds? rather shouldst thou, young Kon! on horses ride * * * and armies overcome. 45. Nor Dan nor Danp halls more costly had, nobler paternal seats, than ye had. They well knew how the keel to ride, the edge to prove, wounds to inflict. The rest is wanting. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 39: A common practice: the pieces served as money.] [Footnote 40: The nuptial veil.] OEGIR'S COMPOTATION, OR LOKI'S ALTERCATION. Oegir, who is also named Gymir, had brewed beer for the Æsir, after he had got the great kettle, as has been already related. To the entertainment came Odin and his wife Frigg. Thor did not come, being in the East, but his wife Sif was there, also Bragi and his wife Idun, and Ty, who was one-handed, Fenrisulf having bitten off his hand while being bound. Besides these there were Niord and his wife Skadi, Frey and Freyia, and Odin's son Vidar. Loki too was there, and Frey's attendants, Byggvir and Beyla. Many other Æsir and Alfar were also present. Oegir had two servants, Fimafeng and Eldir. Bright gold was there used instead of fire-light. The beer served itself to the guests. The place was a great sanctuary. The guests greatly praised the excellence of Oegir's servants. This Loki could not hear with patience, and so slew Fimafeng; whereupon the Æsir shook their shields, exclaimed against Loki, chased him into the forest, and then returned to drink. Loki came again, and found Eldir standing without, whom he thus addressed: 1. Tell me, Eldir! ere thou thy foot settest one step forward, on what converse the sons of the triumphant gods at their potation? _Eldir_. 2. Of their arms converse, and of their martial fame, the sons of the triumphant gods. Of the Æsir and the Alfar that are here within not one has a friendly word for thee. _Loki_. 3. I will go into Oegir's halls, to see the compotation. Strife and hate to the Æsir's sons I bear, and will mix their mead with bale. _Eldir_. 4. Knowest thou not that if thou goest into Oegir's halls to see the compotation, but contumely and clamour pourest forth on the kindly powers, they will wipe it all off on thee? _Loki_. 5. Knowest thou not, Eldir, that if we two with bitter words contend, I shall be rich in answers, if thou sayest too much? Loki then went into the hall, but when those present saw who was come in, they all sat silent. _Loki_. 6. I Lopt am come thirsty into this hall, from a long journey, to beseech the Æsir one draught to give me of the bright mead. 7. Why gods! are ye so silent, so reserved, that ye cannot speak? A seat and place choose for me at your board, or bid me hie me hence. _Bragi_. 8. A seat and place will the Æsir never choose for thee at their board; for well the Æsir know for whom they ought to hold a joyous compotation. _Loki_. 9. Odin! dost thou remember when we in early days blended our blood together? When to taste beer thou didst constantly refuse, unless to both 'twas offered? _Odin_. 10. Rise up, Vidar! and let the wolf's sire sit at our compotation; that Loki may not utter words of contumely in Oegir's hall. Vidar then rising, presented Loki with drink, who before drinking thus addressed the Æsir: 11. Hail, Æsir! Hail, Asyniur! And ye, all-holy gods! all, save that one As, who sits within there, Bragi, on yonder bench. _Bragi_. 12. A horse and falchion I from my stores will give thee, and also with a ring reward thee, if thou the Æsir wilt not requite with malice. Provoke not the gods against thee. _Loki_. 13. Of horse and rings wilt thou ever, Bragi! be in want. Of the Æsir and the Alfar, that are here present, in conflict thou art the most backward, and in the play of darts most timid. _Bragi_. 14. I know that were I without, as I am now within, the hall of Oegir, I thy head would bear in my hand, and so for lying punish thee. _Loki_. 15. Valiant on thy seat art thou, Bragi! but so thou shouldst not be, Bragi, the bench's pride! Go and fight, if thou art angry; a brave man sits not considering. _Idun_. 16. I pray thee, Bragi! let avail the bond of children, and of all adopted sons, and to Loki speak not in reproachful words, in Oegir's hall. _Loki_. 17. Be silent, Idun! of all women I declare thee most fond of men, since thou thy arms, carefully washed, didst twine round thy brother's murderer. _Idun_. 18. Loki I address not with opprobrious words, in Oegir's hall. Bragi I soothe, by beer excited. I desire not that angry ye fight. _Gefion_. 19. Why will ye, Æsir twain, here within, strive with reproachful words? Lopt perceives not that he is deluded, and is urged on by fate. _Loki_. 20. Be silent, Gefion! I will now just mention, how that fair youth thy mind corrupted, who thee a necklace gave, and around whom thou thy limbs didst twine? _Odin_. 21. Thou art raving, Loki! and hast lost thy wits, in calling Gefion's anger on thee; for all men's destinies, I ween, she knows as thoroughly as I do. _Loki_. 22. Be silent, Odin! Thou never couldst allot conflicts between men: oft hast thou given to those to whom thou oughtest not--victory to cowards. _Odin_. 23. Knowest thou that I gave to those I ought not--victory to cowards? Thou wast eight winters on the earth below, a milch cow and a woman, and didst there bear children. Now that, methinks, betokens a base nature. _Loki_. 24. But, it is said, thou wentest with tottering steps in Samso, and knocked at houses as a Vala. In likeness of a fortune teller, thou wentest among people. Now that, methinks, betokens a base nature. _Frigg_. 25. Your doings ye should never publish among men, what ye, Æsir twain, did in days of yore. Ever forgotten be men's former deeds! _Loki_. 26. Be thou silent, Frigg! Thou art Fiorgyn's daughter, and ever hast been fond of men, since Ve and Vili, it is said, thou, Vidrir's wife, didst both to thy bosom take. _Frigg_. 27. Know thou that if I had, in Oegir's halls, a son like Baldr, out thou shouldst not go from the Æsir's sons: thou should'st have been fiercely assailed. _Loki_. 28. But wilt thou, Frigg! that of my wickedness I more recount? I am the cause that thou seest not Baldr riding to the halls. _Freyia_. 29. Mad art thou, Loki! in recounting thy foul misdeeds. Frigg, I believe, knows all that happens, although she says it not. _Loki_. 30. Be thou silent, Freyia! I know thee full well; thou art not free from vices: of the Æsir and the Alfar, that are herein, each has been thy paramour. _Freyia_. 31. False is thy tongue. Henceforth it will, I think, prate no good to thee. Wroth with thee are the Æsir, and the Asyniur. Sad shalt thou home depart. _Loki_. 32. Be silent, Freyia! Thou art a sorceress, and with much evil blended; since against thy brother thou the gentle powers excited. And then, Freyia! what didst thou do? _Niord_. 33. It is no great wonder, if silk-clad dames get themselves husbands, lovers; but 'tis a wonder that a wretched As, that has borne children, should herein enter. _Loki_. 34. Be silent, Niord! Thou wast sent eastward hence, a hostage from the gods. Hymir's daughters had thee for an utensil, and flowed into thy mouth.[41] _Niord_. 35. 'Tis to me a solace, as I a long way hence was sent, a hostage from the gods, that I had a son, whom no one hates, and accounted is a chief among the Æsir. _Loki_. 36. Cease now, Niord! in bounds contain thyself; I will no longer keep it secret: it was with thy sister thou hadst such a son; hardly worse than thyself. _Ty_. 37. Frey is best of all the exalted gods in the Æsir's courts: no maid he makes to weep, no wife of man, and from bonds looses all. _Loki_. 38. Be silent, Ty! Thou couldst never settle a strife 'twixt two; of thy right hand also I must mention make, which Fenrir from thee tore. _Ty_. 39. I of a hand am wanting, but thou of honest fame; sad is the lack of either. Nor is the wolf at ease: he in bonds must bide, until the gods' destruction. _Loki_. 40. Be silent, Ty; to thy wife it happened to have a son by me. Nor rag nor penny ever hadst thou, poor wretch! for this injury. _Frey_. 41. I the wolf see lying at the river's mouth, until the powers are swept away. So shalt thou be bound, if thou art not silent, thou framer of evil. _Loki_. 42. With gold thou boughtest Gymir's daughter, and so gavest away thy sword: but when Muspell's sons through the dark forest ride, thou, unhappy, wilt not have wherewith to fight. _Byggvir_. 43. Know that were I of noble race, like Ingun's Frey, and had so fair a dwelling, than marrow softer I would bray that ill-boding crow, and crush him limb by limb. _Loki_. 44. What little thing is that I see wagging its tail, and snapping eagerly? At the ears of Frey thou shouldst ever be, and clatter under mills. _Byggvir_. 45. Byggvir I am named, and am thought alert, by all gods and men; therefore am I joyful here, that all the sons of Hropt drink beer together. _Loki_. 46. Be silent, Byggvir! Thou couldst never dole out food to men, when, lying in thy truckle bed, thou wast not to be found, while men were fighting. _Heimdall_. 47. Loki, thou art drunk, and hast lost thy wits. Why dost thou not leave off, Loki? But drunkenness so rules every man, that he knows not of his garrulity. _Loki_. 48. Be silent, Heimdall! For thee in early days was that hateful life decreed: with a wet back thou must ever be, and keep watch as guardian of the gods. _Skadi_. 49. Thou art merry, Loki! Not long wilt thou frisk with an unbound tail; for thee, on a rock's point, with the entrails of thy ice-cold son, the gods will bind. _Loki_. 50. Know, if on a rock's point, with the entrails of my ice-cold son, the gods will bind me, that first and foremost I was at the slaying, when we assailed Thiassi. _Skadi_. 51. Know, if first and foremost thou wast at the slaying, when ye assailed Thiassi, that from my dwellings and fields shall to thee ever cold counsels come. _Loki_. 52. Milder wast thou of speech to Laufey's son, when to thy bed thou didst invite me. Such matters must be mentioned, if we accurately must recount our vices. Then came Sif forth, and poured out mead for Loki in an icy cup, saying: 53. Hail to thee, Loki! and this cool cup receive, full of old mead: at least me alone, among the blameless Æsir race, leave stainless. He took the horn, drank, and said: 54. So alone shouldst thou be, hadst thou strict and prudent been towards thy mate; but one I know, and, I think, know him well, a favoured rival of Hlorridi, and that is the wily Loki. _Beyla_. 55. The fells all tremble: I think Hlorridi is from home journeying. He will bid be quiet him who here insults all gods and men. _Loki_. 56. Be silent, Beyla! Thou art Byggvir's wife, and with much evil mingled: never came a greater monster among the Æsir's sons. Thou art a dirty strumpet. Thor then came in and said: 57. Silence, thou impure being! My mighty hammer, Miollnir, shall stop thy prating. I will thy head from thy neck strike; then will thy life be ended. _Loki_. 58. Now the son of earth is hither come. Why dost thou chafe so, Thor? Thou wilt not dare do so, when with the wolf thou hast to fight, and he the all-powerful father swallows whole. _Thor_. 59. Silence, thou impure being! My mighty hammer, Miollnir, shall stop thy prating. Up I will hurl thee to the east region, and none shall see thee after. _Loki_. 60. Of thy eastern travels thou shouldest never to people speak, since in a glove-thumb thou, Einheri! wast doubled up, and hardly thoughtest thou wast Thor. _Thor_. 61. Silence, thou impure being! My mighty hammer, Miollnir, shall stop thy prating: with this right hand I, Hrungnir's bane, will smite thee, so that thy every bone be broken. _Loki_. 62. 'Tis my intention a long life to live, though with thy hammer thou dost threaten me. Skrymir's thongs seemed to thee hard, when at the food thou couldst not get, when, in full health, of hunger dying. _Thor_. 63. Silence, thou impure being! My mighty hammer, Miollnir, shall stop thy prating. Hrungnir's bane shall cast thee down to Hel, beneath the gratings of the dead. _Loki_. 64. I have said before the Æsir, I have said before the Æsir's sons, that which my mind suggested: but for thee alone will I go out; because I know that thou wilt fight. 65. Oegir! thou hast brewed beer; but thou never shalt henceforth a compotation hold. All thy possessions, which are herein, flame shall play over, and on thy back shall burn thee. After this Loki, in the likeness of a salmon, cast himself into the waterfall of Franangr, where the Æsir caught him, and bound him with the entrails of his son Nari; but his other son, Narfi, was changed into a wolf. Skadi took a venomous serpent, and fastened it up over Loki's face. The venom trickled down from it. Sigyn, Loki's wife, sat by, and held a basin under the venom; and when the basin was full, carried the venom out. Meanwhile the venom dropped on Loki, who shrank from it so violently that the whole earth trembled. This causes what are now called earthquakes. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 41: The events related in this strophe are probably a mere perversion, by the poet, of what we know of Niord's history.] THE LAY OF FIOLSVITH. 1. From the outward wall he saw one ascending to the seat of the giant race. _Fiolsvith_. Along the humid ways haste thee back hence, here, wretch! is no place for thee. 2. What monster is it before the fore-court standing, and hovering round the perilous flame? Whom dost thou seek? Of what art thou in quest? Or what, friendless being! desirest thou to know? _Wanderer_. 3. What monster is that, before the fore-court standing, who to the wayfarer offers not hospitality? Void of honest fame, prattler! hast thou lived: but hence hie thee home. _Fiolsvith_. 4. Fiolsvith is my name; wise I am of mind, though of food not prodigal. Within these courts thou shalt never come: so now, wretch! take thyself off. _Wanderer_. 5. From the eye's delight few are disposed to hurry, where there is something pleasant to be seen. These walls, methinks, shine around golden halls. Here I could live contented with my lot. _Fiolsvith_. 6. Tell me, youth; of whom thou art born, or of what race hast sprung. _Wanderer_. 7. Vindkald I am called, Varkald was my father named, his sire was Fiolkald. 8. Tell me, Fiolsvith! that which I will ask thee, and I desire to know: who here holds sway, and has power over these lands and costly halls? _Fiolsvith_. 9. Menglod is her name, her mother her begat with Svaf, Thorin's son. She here holds sway, and has power over these lands and costly halls. _Vindkald_. 10. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., what the grate is called, than which among the gods mortals never saw a greater artifice? _Fiolsvith_. 11. Thrymgioll it is called, and Solblindi's three sons constructed it: a fetter fastens, every wayfarer, who lifts it from its opening. _Vindkald_. 12. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., what that structure is called, than which among the gods mortals never saw a greater artifice? _Fiolsvith_. 13. Gastropnir it is called, and I constructed it of Leirbrimir's limbs. I have so supported it, that it will ever stand while the world lasts. _Vindkald_. 14. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., what those dogs are called, that chase away the giantesses, and safety to the fields restore? _Fiolsvith_. 15. Gifr the one is called, the other Geri, if thou that wouldst know. Eleven watches they will keep, until the powers perish. _Vindkald_. 16. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., whether any man can enter while those fierce assailants sleep? _Fiolsvith_. 17. Alternate sleep was strictly to them enjoined, since to the watch they were appointed. One sleeps by night, by day the other, so that no wight can enter if he comes. _Vindkald_. 18. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., whether there is any food that men can get, such that they can run in while they eat? _Fiolsvith_. 19. Two repasts lie in Vidofnir's wings, if thou that wouldst know: that is alone such food as men can give them and run in while they eat. _Vindkald_. 20. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., what that tree is called that with its branches spreads itself over every land? _Fiolsvith_. 21. Mimameidir it is called; but few men know from what roots it springs: it by that will fall which fewest know. Nor fire nor iron will harm it. _Vindkald_. 22. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., to what the virtue is of that famed tree applied, which nor fire nor iron will harm? _Fiolsvith_. 23. Its fruit shall on the fire be laid, for labouring women; out then will pass what would in remain: so is it a creator of mankind. _Vindkald_. 24. Tell me, Fioisvith! etc., what the cock is called that sits in that lofty tree, and all-glittering is with gold? _Fiolsvith_. 25. Vidofnir he is called; in the clear air he stands, in the boughs of Mima's tree: afflictions only brings, together indissoluble, the swart bird at his lonely meal. _Vindkald_. 26. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., whether there be any weapon, before which Vidofnir may fall to Hel's abode? _Fiolsvith_. 27. Hævatein the twig is named, and Lopt plucked it, down by the gate of Death. In an iron chest it lies with Sinmoera, and is with nine strong locks secured. _Vindkald_. 28. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., whether he will alive return, who seeks after, and will take, that rod? _Fiolsvith_. 29. He will return who seeks after, and will take, the rod, if he bears that which few possess to the dame of the glassy clay. _Vindkald_. 30. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., whether there is any treasure, that mortals can obtain, at which the pale giantess will rejoice? _Fiolsvith_. 31. The bright sickle that lies in Vidofnir's wings, thou in a bag shalt bear, and to Sinmoera give, before she will think fit to lend an arm for conflict. _Vindkald_. 32. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., what this hall is called, which is girt round with a curious flickering flame? _Fiolsvith_. 33. Hyr it is called, and it will long tremble as on a lance's point. This sumptuous house shall, for ages hence, be but from hearsay known. _Vindkald_. 34. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., which of the Æsir's sons has that constructed, which within the court I saw? _Fiolsvith_. 35. Uni and Iri, Bari and Ori, Var and Vegdrasil, Dorri and Uri, Delling and Atvard, Lidskialf, Loki. _Vindkald_. 36. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., what that mount is called, on which I see a splendid maiden stand? _Fiolsvith_. 37. Hyfiaberg 'tis called, and long has it a solace been to the bowed-down and sorrowful: each woman becomes healthy, although a year's disease she have, if she can but ascend it. _Vindkald_. 38. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., how those maids are called, who sit at Menglod's knees in harmony together? _Fiolsvith_. 39. Hlif the first is called, the second is Hlifthursa, the third Thiodvarta, Biort and Blid, Blidr, Frid, Eir and Orboda. _Vindkald_. 40. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., whether they protect those who offer to them, if it should, be needful? _Fiolsvith_. 41. Every summer in which men offer to them, at the holy place, no pestilence so great shall come to the sons of men, but they will free each from peril. _Vindkald_. 42. Tell me, Fiolsvith! etc., whether there is any man that may in Menglod's soft arms sleep? _Fiolsvith_. 43. There is no man who may in Menglod's soft arms sleep, save only Svipdag; to him the sun-bright maid is for wife betrothed. _Vindkald_. 44. Set the doors open! Let the gate stand wide; here thou mayest Svipdag see; but yet go learn if Menglod will accept my love. _Fiolsvith_. 45. Hear, Menglod! A man is hither come: go and behold the stranger; the dogs rejoice; the house has itself opened. I think it must be Svipdag. _Menglod_. 46. Fierce ravens shall, on the high gallows, tear out thy eyes, if thou art lying, that hither from afar is come the youth unto my halls. 47. Whence art thou come? Whence hast thou journeyed? How do thy kindred call thee? Of thy race and name I must have a token, if I was betrothed to thee. _Svipdag_. 48. Svipdag I am named, Solbiart was my father named; thence the winds on the cold ways drove me. Urd's decree may no one gainsay, however lightly uttered. _Menglod_. 49. Welcome thou art: my will I have obtained; greeting a kiss shall follow. A sight unlooked-for gladdens most persons, when one the other loves. 50. Long have I sat on my loved hill, day and night expecting thee. Now that is come to pass which I have hoped, that thou, dear youth, again to my halls art come. _Svipdag_. 51. Longing I have undergone for thy love; and thou, for my affection. Now it is certain, that we shall pass our lives together. THE LAY OF HYNDLA. Freyia rides with her favourite Ottar to Hyndla, a Vala, for the purpose of obtaining information respecting Ottar's genealogy, such information being required by him in a legal dispute with Angantyr. Having obtained this, Freyia further requests Hyndla to give Ottar a potion (minnisol) that will enable him to remember all that has been told him. This she refuses, but is forced to comply by Freyia having encircled her cave with flames. She gives him the potion, but accompanied by a malediction, which is by Freyia turned to a blessing. _Freyia_. 1. Wake, maid of maids! Wake, my friend! Hyndla! Sister! who in the cavern dwellest. Now there is dark of darks; we will both to Valhall ride, and to the holy fane. 2. Let us Heriafather pray into our minds to enter, he gives and grants gold to the deserving. He gave to Hermod a helm and corslet, and from him Sigmund a sword received. 3. Victory to his sons he gives, but to some riches; eloquence to the great, and to men, wit; fair wind he gives to traders, but poesy to skallds; valour he gives to many a warrior. 4. She to Thor will offer, she to him will pray, that to thee he may be well disposed; although he bears ill will to Jotun females. 5. Now of thy wolves take one from out the stall; let him run with runic rein.[42] _Hyndla_. 6. Sluggish is thy hog the god's way to tread: _Freyia_. 7. I will my noble palfrey saddle. _Hyndla_. 8. False are thou, Freyia! who temptest me: by thy eyes thou showest it, so fixed upon us; while thou thy man hast on the dead-road,[43] the young Ottar, Innstein's son. 9. Dull art thou, Hyndla! methinks thou dreamest, since thou sayest that my man is on the dead-road with me; there where my hog sparkles with its golden bristles, hight Hildisvini, which for me made the two skilful dwarfs, Dain and Nabbi. From the saddle we will talk: let us sit, and of princely families discourse, of those chieftains who from the gods descend. They have contested for the dead's gold, Ottar the young and Angantyr. 10. A duty 'tis to act so that the young prince his paternal heritage may have, after his kindred. 11. An offer-stead to me he raised, with stones constructed; now is that stone as glass become. With the blood of oxen he newly sprinkled it. Ottar ever trusted in the Asyniur. 12. Now let us reckon up the ancient families, and the races of exalted men. Who are the Skioldungs? Who are the Skilfings? Who the Odlings? Who the Ylfings? Who the hold-born? Who the hers-born? The choicest race of men under heaven? _Hyndla_. 13. Thou, Ottar! art of Innstein born, but Innstein was from Alf the Old, Alf was from Ulf, Ulf from Sæfari, but Sæfari from Svan the Red. 14. Thy father had a mother, for her necklaces famed, she, I think, was named Hledis the priestess; Frodi her father was, and her mother Friant: all that stock is reckoned among chieftains. 15. Ali was of old of men the strongest, Halfdan before him, the highest of the Skioldungs; (Famed were the wars by those chieftains led) his deeds seemed to soar to the skirts of heaven. 16. By Eimund aided, chief of men, he Sigtrygg slew with the cold steel. He Almveig had to wife, first of women. They begat and had eighteen sons. 17. From them the Skioldungs, from them the Skilfings, from them the Odlings, from them the Ynglings, from them the hold-born, from them the hers-born, the choicest race of men under heaven. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 18. Hildegun her mother was, of Svafa born and a sea-king. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! Carest thou this to know? Wishest thou a longer narrative? 19. Dag wedded Thora, mother of warriors: of that race were born the noble champions, Fradmar, Gyrd, and the Frekis both, Am, Josur, Mar, Alf the Old. Carest thou this to know? Wishest thou a longer narrative? 20. Ketil their friend was named, heir of Klyp; he was maternal grandsire of thy mother. Then was Frodi yet before Kari, but the eldest born was Alf. 21. Nanna was next, Nokkvi's daughter; her son was thy father's kinsman, ancient is that kinship. I knew both Brodd and Horfi. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 22. Isolf, Asolf, Olmod's sons and Skurhild's Skekkil's daughter; thou shalt yet count chieftains many. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 23. Gunnar, Balk, Grim, Ardskafi, Jarnskiold, Thorir, Ulf, Ginandi, Bui and Brami, Barri and Reifnir, Tind and Hyrfing, the two Haddingis. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 24. To toil and tumult were the sons of Arngrim born, and of Eyfura: ferocious berserkir, calamity of every kind, by land and sea, like fire they carried. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 25. I knew both Brodd and Horfi, they were in the court of Hrolf the Old; all descended from Jormunrek, son-in-law of Sigurd. (Listen to my story) the dread of nations, him who Fafnir slew. 26. He was a king, from Volsung sprung, and Hiordis from Hrodung; but Eylimi from the Odlings. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 27. Gunnar and Hogni, sons of Giuki; and Gudrun likewise, their sister. Guttorm; was not of Giuki's race, although he brother was of them both. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 28. Harald Hildetonn, born of Hrærekir Slongvanbaugi; he was a son of Aud, Aud the rich was Ivar's daughter; but Radbard was Randver's father. They were heroes to the gods devoted. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 29. There were eleven Æsir reckoned, when Baldr on the pile was laid; him Vali showed himself worthy to avenge, his own brother: he the slayer slew. All that race is thine, Ottar Heimski! 30. Baldr's father was son of Bur: Frey to wife had Gerd, she was Gymir's daughter, from Jotuns sprung and Aurboda; Thiassi also was their relation, that haughty Jotun; Skadi was his daughter. 31. We tell thee much, and remember more: I admonish thee thus much to know. Wishest thou yet a longer narrative? 32. Haki was not the worst of Hvedna's sons, and Hiorvard was Hvedna's father; Heid and Hrossthiof were of Hrimnir's race. 33. All the Valas are from Vidolf; all the soothsayers from Vilmeidr, all the sorcerers from Svarthofdi; all the Jotuns come from Ymir. 34. We tell thee much, and more remember, I admonish thee thus much to know. Wishest thou yet a longer narrative? 35. There was one born, in times of old, with wondrous might endowed, of origin divine: nine Jotun maids gave birth to the gracious god, at the world's margin. 36. Gialp gave him birth, Greip gave him birth, Eistla gave him birth, and Angeia; Ulfrun gave him birth, and Eyrgiafa, Imd and Atla, and Jarnsaxa. 37. The boy was nourished with the strength of earth, with the ice-cold sea, and with Son's blood. We tell thee much, and more remember. I admonish thee thus much to know. Wishest thou a yet longer narrative? 38. Loki begat the wolf with Angrboda, but Sleipnir he begat with Svadilfari: one monster seemed of all most deadly, which from Byleist's brother sprang. 39. Loki, scorched up in his heart's affections, had found a half-burnt woman's heart. Loki became guileful from that wicked woman; thence in the world are all giantesses come. 40. Ocean towers with storms to heaven itself, flows o'er the land; the air is rent: thence come snows and rapid winds; then it is decreed that the rain should cease. 41. There was one born greater than all, the boy was nourished with the strength of earth; he was declared a ruler, mightiest and richest, allied by kinship to all princes. 42. Then shall another come, yet mightier, although I dare not his name declare. Few may see further forth than when Odin meets the wolf. _Freyia_. 43. Bear thou the memory-cup to my guest, so that he may all the words repeat of this, discourse, on the third morn, when he and Angantyr reckon up races. _Hyndla_. 44. Go thou quickly hence, I long to sleep; more of my wondrous power thou gettest not from me. Thou runnest, my hot friend, out at nights, as among he-goats the she-goat goes. 45. Thou hast run thyself mad, ever longing; many a one has stolen under thy girdle. Thou runnest, my hot friend, out at nights, as among he-goats, the she-goat goes. _Freyia_. 46. Fire I strike over thee, dweller of the wood! so that thou goest not ever away from hence. _Hyndla_. 47. Fire I see burning, and the earth blazing; many will have their lives to save. Bear thou the cup to Ottar's hand, the mead with venom mingled, in an evil hour! _Freyia_. 48. Thy malediction shall be powerless; although thou, Jotun-maid! dost evil threaten. He shall drink delicious draughts. All the gods I pray to favour Ottar. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 42: That is, with a rein inscribed with runes.] [Footnote 43: The road to Valhall.] THE INCANTATION OF GROA. _Son_. 1. Wake up, Groa! wake up, good woman! at the gates of death I wake thee! if thou rememberest, that thou thy son badest to thy grave-mound to come. _Mother_. 2. What now troubles my only son? With what affliction art thou burthened, that thou thy mother callest, who to dust is come, and from human homes departed? _Son_. 3. A hateful game thou, crafty woman, didst set before me, whom my has father in his bosom cherished, when thou badest me go no one knows whither, Menglod to meet. _Mother_. 4. Long is the journey, long are the ways, long are men's desires. If it so fall out, that thou thy will obtainest, the event must then be as it may. _Son_. 5. Sing to me songs which are good. Mother! protect thy son. Dead on my way I fear to be. I seem too young in years. _Mother_. 6. I will sing to thee first one that is thought most useful, which Rind sang to Ran; that from thy shoulders thou shouldst cast what to thee seems irksome: let thyself thyself direct. 7. A second I will sing to thee, as thou hast to wander joyless on thy ways. May Urd's protection hold thee on every side, where thou seest turpitude. 8. A third I will sing to thee. If the mighty rivers to thy life's peril fall, Horn and Rud, may they flow down to Hel, and for thee ever be diminished. 9. A fourth I will sing to thee. If foes assail thee ready on the dangerous road, their hearts shall fail them, and to thee be power, and their minds to peace be turned. 10. A fifth I will sing to thee. If bonds be cast on thy limbs, friendly spells I will let on thy joints be sung, and the lock from thy arms shall start, [and from thy feet the fetter]. 11. A sixth I will sing to thee. If on the sea thou comest, more stormy than men have known it, air and water shall in a bag attend thee, and a tranquil course afford thee. 12. A seventh I will sing to thee. If on a mountain high frost should assail thee, deadly cold shall not thy carcase injure, nor draw thy body to thy limbs. 13. An eighth I will sing to thee. If night overtake thee, when out on the misty way, that the dead Christian woman no power may have to do thee harm. 14. A ninth I will sing to thee. If with a far-famed spear-armed Jotun thou words exchangest, of words and wit to thy mindful heart abundance shall be given. 15. Go now ever where calamity may be, and no harm shall obstruct thy wishes. On a stone fast in the earth I have stood within the door, while songs I sang to thee. 16. My son! bear hence thy mother's words, and in thy breast let them dwell; for happiness abundant shalt thou have in life, while of my words thou art mindful. THE SONG OF THE SUN. This singular poem, the authorship of which is, in some manuscripts, assigned to Sæmund himself, may be termed a Voice from the Dead, given under the form of a dream, in which a deceased father is supposed to address his son from another world. The first 7 strophes seem hardly connected with the following ones, which, as far as the 32nd consist chiefly in aphorisms with examples, some closely resembling those in the Havamal. In the remaining portion is given the recital of the last illness of the supposed speaker, his death, and the scenes his soul passed through on the way to its final home. The composition exhibits a strange mixture of Christianity and Heathenism, whence it would seem that the poet's own religion was in a transition state. Of the allusions to Heathenism it is, however, to be observed that they are chiefly to persons and actions of which there is no trace in the Odinic mythology, as known to us, and are possibly the fruits of the poet's own imagination. The title of the poem is no doubt derived from the allusion to the Sun at the beginning of strophes 39-45. For an elaborate and learned commentary, with an interlinear version of "the Song of the Sun," the reader may consult "Les Chants de Sol," by Professor Bergmann, Strasbourg & Paris, 1858. 1. Of life and property a fierce freebooter despoiled mankind; over the ways beset by him might no one living pass. 2. Alone he ate most frequently, no one invited he to his repast; until weary, and with failing strength, a wandering guest came from the way. 3. In need of drink that way-worn man, and hungry feigned to be: with trembling heart he seemed to trust him who had been so evil-minded. 4. Meat and drink to the weary one he gave, all with upright heart; on God he thought, the traveller's wants supplied; for he felt he was an evil-doer. 5. Up stood the guest, he evil meditated, he had not been kindly treated; his sin within him swelled, he while sleeping murdered his wary cautious host. 6. The God of heaven he prayed for help, when being struck he woke; but he was doomed the sins of him on himself to take, whom sackless he had slain. 7. Holy angels came from heaven above, and took to them his soul: in a life of purity it shall ever live with the almighty God. 8. Riches and health no one may command, though all go smoothly with him. To many that befalls which they least expect. No one may command his tranquillity. 9. Unnar and Sævaldi never imagined that happiness would fall from them, yet naked they became, and of all bereft, and, like wolves, ran to the forest. 10. The force of pleasure has many a one bewailed. Cares are often caused by women; pernicious they become, although the mighty God them pure created. 11. United were Svafud and Skarthedin, neither might without the other be, until to frenzy they were driven for a woman: she was destined for their perdition. 12. On account of that fair maid, neither of them cared for games or joyous days; no other thing could they in memory bear than that bright form. 13. Sad to them were the gloomy nights, no sweet sleep might they enjoy: but from that anguish rose hate intense between the faithful friends. 14. Hostile deeds are in most places fiercely avenged. To the holm they went,[44] for that fair woman, and each one found his death. 15. Arrogance should no one entertain: I indeed have seen that those who follow her, for the most part, turn from God. 16. Rich were both, Radey and Vebogi, and thought only of their well-being; now they sit and turn their sores to various hearths. 17. They in themselves confided, and thought themselves alone to be above all people; but their lot Almighty God was pleased otherwise to appoint. 18. A life of luxury they led, in many ways, and had gold for sport. Now they are requited, so that they must walk between frost and fire. 19. To thy enemies trust thou never, although they speak thee fair: promise them good: 'tis good to have another's injury as a warning. 20. So it befell Sorli the upright, when he placed himself in Vigolf's power; he confidently trusted him, his brother's murderer, but he proved false. 21. Peace to them he granted, with heart sincere; they in return promised him gold, feigned themselves friends, while they together drank; but then came forth their guile. 22. Then afterwards, on the second day, when they in Rygiardal rode, they with swords wounded him who sackless was, and let his life go forth. 23. His corpse they dragged (on a lonely way, and cut up piecemeal) into a well, and would it hide; but the holy Lord beheld from heaven. 24. His soul summoned home the true God into his joy to come; but the evil doers will, I wean, late be from torments called. 25. Do thou pray the Disir of the Lord's words to be kind to thee in spirit: for a week after, all shall then go happily, according to thy will. 26. For a deed of ire that thou hast perpetrated, never atone with evil: the weeping thou shalt soothe with benefits: that is salutary to the soul. 27. On God a man shall for good things call, on him who has mankind created. Greatly sinful is every man who late finds the Father. 28. To be solicited, we opine, is with all earnestness for that which is lacking: of all things may be destitute he who for nothing asks: few heed the wants of the silent. 29. Late I came, though called betimes, to the supreme Judge's door; thitherward I yearn; for it was promised me, he who craves it shall of the feast partake. 30. Sins are the cause that sorrowing we depart from this world: no one stands in dread, if he does no evil: good it is to be blameless. 31. Like unto wolves all those seem who have a faithless mind: so he will prove who has to go through ways strewed with gleeds. 32. Friendly counsels, and wisely composed, seven I have imparted to thee: consider thou them well, and forget them never: they are all useful to learn. 33. Of that I will speak, how happy I was in the world, and secondly, how the sons of men reluctantly become corpses. 34. Pleasure and pride deceive the sons of men who after money crave; shining riches at last become a sorrow: many have riches driven to madness. 35. Steeped in joys I seemed to men; for little did I see before me: our worldly sojourn has the Lord created in delights abounding. 36. Bowed down I sat, long I tottered, of life was most desirous; but He prevailed who was all-powerful: onward are the ways of the doomed. 37. The cords of Hel were tightly bound round my sides; I would rend them, but they were strong. 'Tis easy free to go. 38. I alone knew, how on all sides my pains increased. The maids of Hel each eve with horror bade me to their home. 39. The sun I saw, true star of day, sink in its roaring home; but Hel's grated doors on the other side I heard heavily creaking. 40. The sun I saw with blood-red beams beset: (fast was I then from this world declining) mightier she appeared, in many ways, than she was before. 41. The sun I saw, and it seemed to me as if I saw a glorious god: I bowed before her, for the last time, in the world of men. 42. The sun I saw: she beamed forth so that I seemed nothing to know; but Gioll's streams roared from the other side mingled much with blood. 43. The sun I saw, with quivering eyes, appalled and shrinking; for my heart in great measure was dissolved in languor. 44. The sun I saw seldom sadder; I had then almost from the world declined: my tongue was as wood become, and all was cold without me. 45. The sun I saw never after, since that gloomy day; for the mountain-waters closed over me, and I went called from torments. 46. The star of hope, when I was born, fled from my breast away; high it flew, settled nowhere, so that it might find rest. 47. Longer than all was that one night, when stiff on my straw I lay; then becomes manifest the divine word: "Man is the same as earth." 48. The Creator God can it estimate and know, (He who made heaven and earth) how forsaken many go hence, although from kindred parted. 49. Of his works each has the reward: happy is he who does good. Of my wealth bereft, to me was destined a bed strewed with sand. 50. Bodily desires men oftentimes seduce, of them has many a one too much: water of baths was of all things to me most loathsome. 51. In the Norns' seat nine days I sat, thence I was mounted on a horse: there the giantess's sun shone grimly through the dripping clouds of heaven. 52. Without and within, I seemed to traverse all the seven nether worlds: up and down, I sought an easier way, where I might have the readiest paths. 53. Of that is to be told, which I first saw, when I to the worlds of torment came:--scorched birds, which were souls, flew numerous as flies. 54. From the west I saw Von's dragons fly, and Glæval's paths obscure: their wings they shook; wide around me seemed the earth and heaven to burst. 55. The sun's hart I saw from the south coming, he was by two together led: his feet stood on the earth, but his horns reached up to heaven. 56. From the north riding I saw the sons of Nidi, they were seven in all: from full horns, the pure mead they drank from the heaven-god's well. 57. The wind was silent, the waters stopped their course; then I heard a doleful sound: for their husbands false-faced women ground earth for food. 58. Gory stones those dark women turned sorrowfully; bleeding hearts hung out of their breasts, faint with much affliction. 59. Many a man I saw wounded go on those gleed-strewed paths; their faces seemed to me all reddened with reeking blood. 60. Many men I saw to earth gone down, who holy service might not have; heathen stars stood above their heads, painted with deadly characters. 61. I saw those men who much envy harbour at another's fortune; bloody runes were on their breasts graved painfully. 62. I there saw men many not joyful; they were all wandering wild: this he earns, who by this world's vices is infatuated. 63. I saw those men who had in various ways acquired other's property: in shoals they went to Castle-covetous, and burthens bore of lead. 64. I saw those men who many had of life and property bereft: through the breasts of those men passed strong venomous serpents. 65. I saw those men who the holy days would not observe: their hands were on hot stones firmly nailed. 66. I saw those men who from pride valued themselves too highly; their garments ludicrously were in fire enveloped. 67. I saw those men who had many false words of others uttered: Hel's ravens from their heads their eyes miserably tore. 68. All the horrors thou wilt not get to know which Hel's inmates suffer. Pleasant sins end in painful penalties: pains ever follow pleasure. 69. I saw those men who had much given for God's laws; pure lights were above their heads brightly burning. 70. I saw those men who from exalted mind helped the poor to aid: angels, read holy books above their heads. 71. I saw those men who with much fasting had their bodies wasted: God's angels bowed before them: that is the highest joy. 72. I saw those men who had put food into their mothers' mouth: their couches were on the rays of heaven pleasantly placed. 73. Holy virgins had cleanly washed the souls from sin of those men, who for a long time had themselves tormented. 74. Lofty cars I saw towards heaven going; they were on the way to God: men guided them who had been murdered wholly without crime. 75. Almighty Father! greatest Son! holy Spirit of heaven! Thee I pray, who hast us all created; free us all from miseries. 76. Biugvor and Iyistvor sit at Herdir's doors, on resounding seat; iron gore falls from their nostrils, which kindles hate among men. 77. Odin's wife rows in earth's ship, eager after pleasures; her sails are reefed late, which on the ropes of desire are hung. 78. Son! I thy father and Solkatla's sons have alone obtained for thee that horn of hart, which from the grave-mound bore the wise Vigdvalin. 79. Here are runes which have engraven Niord's daughters nine, Radvor the eldest, and the youngest Kreppvor, and their seven sisters. 80. How much violence have they perpetrated Svaf and Svaflogi! bloodshed they have excited, and wounds have sucked, after an evil custom. 81. This lay, which I have taught thee, thou shalt before the living sing, the Sun-Song, which will appear in many parts no fiction. 82. Here we part, but again shall meet on the day of men's rejoicing. Oh Lord! unto the dead grant peace, and to the living comfort. 83. Wondrous lore has in dream to thee been sung, but thou hast seen the truth: no man has been so wise created that has before heard the Sun-song. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 44: That is, _they engaged in single combat_; the spot for such encounters being called a _holm_, consisting of a circular space marked out by stones.] THE LAY OF VOLUND. There was a king in Sweden named Nidud: he had two sons and a daughter, whose name was Bodvild. There were three brothers, sons of a king of the Finns, one was called Slagfid, the second Egil, the third Volund. They went on snow-shoes and hunted wild-beasts. They came to Ulfdal, and there made themselves a house, where there is a water called Ulfsiar. Early one morning they found on the border of the lake three females sitting and spinning flax. Near them lay their swan-plumages: they were Valkyriur. Two of them, Hladgud-Svanhvit and Hervor-Alvit, were daughters of King Hlodver; the third was Olrun, a daughter of Kiar of Valland. They took them home with them to their dwelling. Egil had Olrun, Slagfid Svanhvit, and Volund Alvit. They lived there seven years, when they flew away seeking conflicts, and did not return. Egil then went on snow-shoes in search of Olrun, and Slagfid in search of Svanhvit, but Volund remained in Ulfdal. He was a most skilful man, as we learn from old traditions. King Nidud ordered him to be seized, so as it is here related. 1. Maids flew from the south, through the murky wood, Alvit the young, fate to fulfil. On the lake's margin they sat to repose, the southern damsels; precious flax they spun. 2. One of them, of maidens fairest, to his comely breast Egil clasped. Svanhvit was the second, she a swan's plumage bore; but the third, their sister, the white neck clasped of Volund. 3. There they stayed seven winters through; but all the eighth were with longing seized; and in the ninth fate parted them. The maidens yearned for the murky wood, the young Alvit, fate to fulfil. 4. From the chase came the ardent hunters, Slagfid and Egil, found their house deserted, went out and in, and looked around. Egil went east after Olrun, and Slagfid west after Svanhvit; 5. But Volund alone remained in Ulfdal. He the red gold set with the hard gem, well fastened all the rings on linden bast, and so awaited his bright consort, if to him she would return. 6. It was told to Nidud, the Niarars' lord, that Volund alone remained in Ulfdal. In the night went men, in studded corslets, their shields glistened in the waning moon. 7. From their saddles they alighted at the house's gable, thence went in through the house. On the bast they saw the rings all drawn, seven hundred, which the warrior owned. 8. And they took them off, and they put them on, all save one, which they bore away. Came then from the chase the ardent hunter, Volund, gliding[45] on the long way. 9. To the fire he went, bear's flesh to roast. Soon blazed the brushwood, and the arid fir, the wind-dried wood, before Volund. 10. On the bearskin sat, his rings counted, the Alfar's companion: one was missing. He thought that Hlodver's daughter had it, the young Alvit, and that she was returned. 11. So long he sat until he slept; and he awoke of joy bereft: on his hands he felt heavy constraints, and round his feet fetters clasped. 12. "Who are the men that on the rings' possessor have laid bonds? and me have bound?" 13. Then cried Nidud, the Niarars' lord: "Whence gottest thou, Volund! Alfars' chief![46] our gold, in Ulfdal?" 14. "No gold was here in Grani's path, far I thought our land from the hills of Rhine. I mind me that we more treasures possessed, when, a whole family, we were at home. 15. Hladgud and Hervor were of Hlodver born; known was Olrun, Kiar's daughter, she entered into the house, stood on the floor, her voice moderated: Now is he not mirthful, who from the forest comes." King Nidud gave to his daughter Bodvild the ring which had been taken from the bast in Volund's house; but he himself bore the sword that had belonged to Volund. The queen said: 16. His teeth he shows, when the sword he sees, and Bodvild's ring he recognizes: threatening are his eyes as a glistening serpent's: let be severed his sinews' strength; and set him then in Sævarstad. This was done; he was hamstrung, and then set on a certain small island near the shore, called Sævarstad. He there forged for the king all kinds of jewellery work. No one was allowed to go to him, except the king. Volund said: 17. "The sword shines in Nidud's belt, which I whetted as I could most skilfully, and tempered, as seemed to me most cunningly. That bright blade forever is taken from me: never shall I see it borne into Volund's smithy. 18. Now Bodvild wears my consort's red-gold rings: for this I have no indemnity." He sat and never slept, and his hammer plied; but much more speedy vengeance devised on Nidud. 19. The two young sons of Nidud ran in at the door to look, in Sævarstad. To the chest they came, for the keys asked; manifest was their grudge, when therein they looked. 20. Many necklaces were there, which to those youths appeared of the red gold to be, and treasures. "Come ye two alone, to-morrow come; that gold shall be given to you. 21. Tell it not to the maidens, nor to the household folk, nor to any one, that ye have been with me." Early called one the other, brother, brother: "Let us go see the rings." 22. To the chest they came, for the keys asked; manifest was their grudge, when therein they looked. Of those children he the heads cut off, and under the prison's mixen laid their bodies. 23. But their skulls beneath the hair he in silver set, and to Nidud gave; and of their eyes precious stones he formed, which to Nidud's wily wife he sent. 24. But of the teeth of the two breast-ornaments he made, and to Bodvild sent. Then did Bodvild praise the ring: to Volund brought it, when she had broken it: "I dare to no tell it, save alone to thee." _Volund_. 25. "I will so repair the fractured gold, that to thy father it shall fairer seem, and to thy mother much more beautiful, and to thyself, in the same degree." 26. He then brought her beer, that he might succeed the better, as on her seat she fell asleep. "Now have I my wrongs avenged, all save one in the wood perpetrated."[47] 27. "I wish," said Volund, "that on my feet I were, of the use of which Nidud's men have deprived me." Laughing Volund rose in air: Bodvild weeping from the isle departed. She mourned her lover's absence, and for her father's wrath. 28. Stood without Nidud's wily wife; then she went in through the hall; but he on the enclosure sat down to rest. "Art thou awake Niarars' lord!" 29. "Ever am I awake, joyless I lie to rest, when I call to mind my children's death: my head is chilled, cold are to me thy counsels. Now with Volund I desire to speak." 30. "Tell me, Volund, Alfars' chief! of my brave boys what is become?" 31. "Oaths shalt thou first to me swear, by board of ship, by rim of shield, by shoulder of steed, by edge of sword, that thou wilt not slay the wife of Volund, nor of my bride cause the death; although a wife I have whom ye know, or offspring within thy court. 32. To the smithy go, which thou hast made, there wilt thou the bellows find with blood besprinkled. The heads I severed of thy boys, and under the prison's mixen laid their bodies. 33. But their skulls beneath the hair I in silver set, and to Nidud gave; and of their eyes precious stones I formed, which to Nidud's wily wife I sent. 34. Of the teeth of the two, breast-ornaments I made, and to Bodvild sent. Now Bodvild goes big with child, the only daughter of you both." 35. "Word didst thou never speak that more afflicted me, or for which I would more severely punish thee. There is no man so tall that he from thy horse can take thee, or so skilful that he can shoot thee down, thence where thou floatest up in the sky." 36. Laughing Volund rose in air, but Nidud sad remained sitting. 37. "Rise up Thakrad, my best of thralls! bid Bodvild, my fair-browed daughter, in bright attire come, with her sire to speak. 38. Is it, Bodvild! true what has been told to me, that thou and Volund in the isle together sat?" 39. "True it is, Nidud! what has been told to thee, that Volund and I in the isle together sat, in an unlucky hour: would it had never been! I could not against him strive, I might not against him prevail." FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 45: On snow-shoes.] [Footnote 46: The designation of Alfars' chief, or prince, applied to Volund, who, as we learn from the prose introduction, was a son of a king of the Finns, may perhaps be accounted for by the circumstance that the poem itself hardly belongs to the Odinic Mythology, and was probably composed when that system was in its decline and giving place to the heroic or romantic.] [Footnote 47: The translation of this line is founded solely on a conjectural emendation of the text. The wrong alluded to may be the hamstringing.] THE LAY OF HELGI HIORVARD'S SON. There was a king named Hiorvard, who had four wives, one of whom was named Alfhild, their son was named Hedin; the second was named Særeid, their son was Humlung; the third was named Sinriod, their son was Hymling. King Hiorvard made a vow that he would have to wife the most beautiful woman he knew of, and was told that King Svafnir had a daughter of incomparable beauty, named Sigrlinn. He had a jarl named Idmund, whose son Atli was sent to demand the hand of Sigrlinn for the king. He stayed throughout the winter with King Svafnir. There was a jarl there named Franmar, who was the foster-father of Sigrlinn, and had a daughter named Alof. This jarl advised that the maiden should be refused, and Atli returned home. One day when the jarl's son Atli was standing in a grove, there was a bird sitting in the boughs above him, which had heard that his men called the wives which King Hiorvard had the most beautiful. The bird talked, and Atli listened to what it said. The bird said: 1. Hast thou seen Sigrlinn, Svafnir's daughter, of maidens fairest, in her pleasant home? though fair the wives of Hiorvard seem to men in Glasis-lund. _Atli._ 2. With Atli, Idmund's son, sagacious bird! wilt thou further speak? _Bird._ I will if the prince will offer to me, and I may choose what I will from the king's court. _Atli._ 3. Choose not Hiorvard nor his sons, nor the fair daughters of that prince, nor the wives which the king has. Let us together bargain; that is the part of friends. _Bird._ 4. A fane I will chose, offer steads many, gold-horned cows from the chief's land, if Sigrlinn sleep in his arms, and unconstrained with that prince shall live. This took place before Atli's journey; but after his return, when the king asked his tidings, he said: 5. Labour we have had, but errand none performed; our horses failed us in the vast fell; we had afterwards a swampy lake to ford; then was denied us Svafnir's daughter with rings adorned, whom we would obtain. The king commanded them to go a second time, and also went himself. But when they had ascended a fell, and saw in Svavaland the country on fire, and a great reek from the horses of cavalry, the king rode down the fell into the country, and took up his night-quarters by a river. Atli kept watch, and crossed the river, and came to a house, on which sat a great bird to guard it, but was asleep. Atli shot the bird dead with an arrow. In the house he found the king's daughter Sigrlinn, and Alof daughter of Franmar, and brought them both away with him. The jarl Franmar had taken the form of an eagle, and protected them from a hostile army by sorcery. There was a king named Hrodmar, a wooer of Sigrlinn: he had slain the king of Svavaland, and ravaged and burnt the country. Hiorvard obtained Sigrlinn, and Atli Alof. Hiorvard and Sigrlinn had a son tall and comely: he was taciturn and had no fixed name. As he was sitting on a mound he saw nine Valkyriur, one of whom was of most noble aspect. She said: 6. Late wilt thou, Helgi! rings possess, a potent warrior, or Rodulsvellir,--so at morn the eagle sang--if thou art ever silent; although thou, prince! a fierce mood mayest show. _Helgi_. 7. What wilt thou let accompany the name of Helgi, maid of aspect bright! since that thou art pleased to give me? Think well over what thou art saying. I will not accept it, unless I have thee also. _Valkyria_. 8. Swords I know lying in Sigarsholm, fewer by four than five times ten: one of them is of all the best, of shields the bale, with gold adorned. 9. A ring is on the hilt, courage in the midst, in the point terror for his use who owns it: along the edge a blood-stained serpent lies, and on the guard the serpent casts its tail. There was a king named Eylimi; Svava was his daughter; she was a Valkyria and rode through air and water. It was she who gave Helgi that name, and afterwards often protected him in battle. Helgi said: 10. Hiorvard! thou art not a king of wholesome counsel, leader of people! renowned though thou mayest be. Thou hast let fire devour the homes of princes, though harm to thee they none have done. 11. But Hrodmar shall of the rings dispose, which our relations have possessed. That chief recks little of his life; he thinks only to obtain the heritage of the dead. Hiorvard answers, that he will supply Helgi with an army, if he will avenge his mother's father. Helgi thereupon seeks the sword that Svava had indicated to him. Afterwards he and Atli went and slew Hrodmar, and performed many deeds of valour. He killed the Jotun Hati, as he sat on a crag. Helgi and Atli lay with their ships in Hatafiord. Atli kept watch in the first part of the night. Hrimgerd, Hati's daughter, said: 12. Who are the chieftains in Hatafiord? With shields are your ships bedecked; boldly ye bear yourselves, few things ye fear, I ween: tell me how your king is named. _Atli_. 13. Helgi is his name; but thou nowhere canst to the chief do harm; iron forts are around the prince's fleet; giantesses may not assail us. _Hrimgerd_. 14. How art thou named? most powerful champion! How do men call thee? Thy king confides in thee, since in the ship's fair prow he grants thee place. _Atli_. 15. Atli I am named, fierce I shall prove to thee; towards giantesses I am most hostile. The humid prow I have oft occupied, and the night-riders slain. 16. How art thou called? corpse-greedy giantess! hag! name thy father. Nine rasts shouldst thou be underground, and a forest grow on thy breast. _Hrimgerd_. 17. Hrimgerd I am called, Hati was my father called, whom I knew the mightiest Jotun. He many women had from their dwellings taken, until him Helgi slew. _Atli_. 18. Thou wast, hag! before the prince's ships, and layest before them in the fiord's mouth. The chieftain's warriors thou wouldst to Ran consign, had a bar not crossed thee. _Hrimgerd_. 19. Now, Atli! thou art wrong, methinks thou art dreaming; thy brows thou lettest over thy eyelids fall. My mother lay before the prince's ships; I Hlodvard's sons drowned in the ocean. 20. Thou wouldst neigh, Atli! if thou wert not a gelding. See! Hrimgerd cocks her tail. Thy heart, methinks, Atli! is in thy hinder part, although thy voice is clear. _Atli_. 21. I think I shall the stronger prove, if thou desirest to try; and I can step from the port to land. Thou shalt be soundly cudgeled, if I heartily begin, and let thy tail fall, Hrimgerd! _Hrimgerd_. 22. Just come on shore, Atli! if in thy strength thou trustest, and let us meet in Varinsvik. A rib-roasting thou shalt get, brave boy! if in my claws thou comest. _Atli_. 23. I will not come before the men awake, and o'er the king hold watch. It would not surprise me, if from beneath our ship some hag arose. _Hrimgerd_. 24. Keep watch, Atli! and to Hrimgerd pay the blood-fine for Hati's death. If one night she may sleep with the prince, she for the slain will be indemnified. _Helgi_. 25. Lodin is named he who shall thee possess, thou to mankind art loathsome. In Tholley dwells that Thurs, that dog-wise Jotun, of all rock-dwellers the worst: he is a fitting man for thee. _Hrimgerd_. 26. Helgi would rather have her who last night guarded the port and men, the gold-bright maiden. She methought had strength, she stept from port to land, and so secured your fleet. She was alone the cause that I could not the king's men slay. _Helgi_. 27. Hear now, Hrimgerd! If I may indemnify thee, say fully to the king: was it one being only, that saved the prince's ships, or went many together? _Hrimgerd_. 28. Three troops of maidens; though one maid foremost rode, bright, with helmed head. Their horses shook themselves, and from their manes there sprang dew into the deep dales, hail on the lofty trees, whence comes fruitfulness to man. To me all that I saw was hateful. _Atli_. 29. Look eastward now, Hrimgerd! whether Helgi has not stricken thee with death-bearing words. By land and water the king's fleet is safe, and the chief's men also. 30. It is now day, Hrimgerd! and Atli has thee detained to thy loss of life. A ludicrous haven-mark 'twill, indeed, be, where thou a stone-image standest. King Helgi was a renowned warrior. He came to King Eylimi and demanded his daughter Svava. Helgi and Svava were united, and loved each other ardently. Svava remained at home with her father, but Helgi was engaged in warfare. Svava was a Valkyria as before. Hedin was at home with his father, King Hiorvard in Norway. Returning home alone from the forest on a Yule-eve, Hedin met a troll-wife riding on a wolf, with serpents for reins, who offered to attend him, but he declined her offer; whereupon she said: "Thou shalt pay for this at the Bragi-cup." In the evening solemn vows were made, and the son-hog was led forth, on which the guests laid their hands, and then made solemn vows at the Bragi-cup.[48] Hedin bound himself by a vow to possess Svava, the beloved of his brother Helgi; but repented it so bitterly that he left home and wandered through wild paths to the southern lands, and there found his brother Helgi. Helgi said: 31. Welcome art thou, Hedin! What new tidings canst thou give from Norway? Why art thou, prince! from the land driven, and alone art come to find us? _Hedin_. 32. Of a much greater crime I am guilty. I have chosen a royal daughter, thy bride, at the Bragi-cup. _Helgi_. 33. Accuse not thyself; true will prove words at drinking uttered by us both. Me a chieftain has to the strand summoned; within three nights I must be there. 'Tis to me doubtful whether I return; then may well such befall, if it so must be. _Hedin_. 34. Thou saidst, Helgi! that Hedin well deserved of thee, and great gifts: It would beseem thee better thy sword to redden, than to grant peace to thy foes. Helgi so spoke, for he had a foreboding that his death was at hand, and that his fylgiur (attendant spirit) had accosted Hedin, when he saw the woman riding on a wolf. There was a king named Alf, a son of Hrodmar, who had appointed a place of combat with Helgi in Sigar's plain within three days. Then said Helgi: 35. On a wolf rode, at evening twilight, a woman who him offered to attend. She well knew, that the son of Sigrlinn would be slain, on Sigar's plain. There was a great conflict, in which Helgi got his death-wound. 36. Helgi sent Sigar riding, after Eylimi's only daughter: he bade her quickly be in readiness, if she would find the king alive. _Sigar_. 37. Helgi has me hither sent, with thee, Svava! thyself to speak. Thee, said the king, he fain would see, ere the noble-born breathes forth his last. _Svava_. 38. What has befallen Helgi, Hiorvard's son? I am sorely by afflictions stricken. Has the sea him deluded, or the sword wounded? On that man I will harm inflict. _Sigar_. 39. This morning fell, at Frekastein, the king who beneath the sun was of all the best. Alf has complete victory, though this time it should not have been! _Helgi_. 40. Hail to thee, Svava! Thy love thou must divide: this in this world, methinks, is our last meeting. They say the chieftain's wounds are bleeding. The sword came too near my heart. 41. I pray thee, Svava!--weep not, my wife!--if thou wilt my voice obey, that for Hedin thou a couch prepare, and the young prince in thy arms clasp. _Svava_. 42. I had said, in our pleasant home, when for me Helgi rings selected, that I would not gladly, after my king's departure, an unknown prince clasp in my arms. _Hedin_. 43. Kiss me, Svava! I will not return, Rogheim to behold, nor Rodulsfioll, before I have avenged Hiorvard's son, who was of kings under the sun the best. Helgi and Svava were, it is said, born again. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 48: At guilds the Bragi-cup (Bragafull) was drunk. It was the custom at the funeral feast of kings and jarls, that the heir should sit on a lower seat, until the Bragafull was brought in, that he should then rise to receive it, make a vow, and drink the contents of the cup (full). He was then led to his father's high seat. At an offering guild, the chief signed with the figure of Thor's hammer both the cup and the meat. First was drunk Odin's cup, for victory and power to the king; then Niord's cup, and Frey's, for a good year and peace; after which it was the custom with many to drink a Bragafull. The peculiarity of this cup was, that it was a cup of vows, that on drinking it a vow was made to perform some great and arduous deed, that might be made a subject for the song of the skalld.] THE FIRST LAY OF HELGI HUNDINGCIDE. 1. It was in times of yore, when the eagles screamed, holy waters fell from the heavenly hills; then to Helgi, the great of soul, Borghild gave birth in Bralund. 2. In the mansion it was night: the Norns came, who should the prince's life determine. They him decreed a prince most famed to be, and of leaders accounted best. 3. With all their might they span the fatal threads, when that [he] burghs should overthrow[49] in Bralund. They stretched out the golden cord, and beneath the middle of the moon's mansion fixed it. 4. East and west they hid the ends, where the prince had lands between; towards the north Neri's sister cast a chain, which she bade last for ever. 5. One thing disquieted the Ylfing's offspring, and the woman who had the child brought forth. Sitting on a lofty tree, on prey intent, a raven to a raven said: "I know something. 6. Stands cased in mail Sigmund's son, one day old: now is our day come. His eyes are piercing as a warrior's; the wolf's friend is he: we shall rejoice!" 7. He to the folk appeared a noble chief to be; among men 'twas said that happy times were come; went the king himself from the din of war, noble garlic to bring to the young prince; 8. Gave him the name of Helgi, and Hringstadir, Solfioll, Snæfioll, and Sigarsvellir, Hringstad, Hatun, and Himinvangar, a sword ornate, to Sinfiotli's brother. 9. Then grew up, in his friends' bosom, the high-born youth, in joyous splendour. He paid and gave gold for deserts; nor spared the chief the blood-stained sword. 10. A short time only the leader let warfare cease. When the prince was fifteen winters old, he caused the fierce Hunding to fall, who long had ruled over lands and people. 11. The sons of Hunding afterwards demanded from Sigmund's son treasure and rings; because they had on the prince to avenge their great loss of wealth, and their father's death. 12. The prince would neither the blood-fine pay, nor for the slain indemnity would give. They might expect, he said, a terrific storm of grey arrows, and Odin's ire. 13. The warriors went to the trysting place of swords, which they had appointed at Logafioll. Broken was Frodi's peace between the foes: Vidrir's hounds went about the isle slaughter-greedy. 14. The leader sat under the Arastein, after he had slain Alf and Eyiolf, Hiorvard and Havard, sons of Hunding: he had destroyed all Geirmimir's race. 15. Then gleamed a ray from Logafioll, and from that ray lightnings issued; then appeared, in the field of air, a helmed band of Valkyriur: their corslets were with blood besprinkled, and from their spears shone beams of light. 16. Forthwith inquired the chieftain bold, from the wolf-congress of the southern Disir, whether they would, with the warriors, that night go home?--then was a clash of arms! 17. One from her horse, Hogni's daughter, stilled the crash of shields, and to the leader said: "We have, I ween, other objects than with princely warriors to drink beer. 18. My father has his daughter promised to the fierce son of Granmar; but I have, Helgi! declared Hodbrodd, the proud prince, like to a cat's son. 19. That chief will come in a few days, unless thou him call to a hostile meeting; or the maiden take from the prince." _Helgi_. 20. Fear thou not Isung's slayer; there shall be first a clash of foes, unless I am dead. 21. Thence sent messengers the potent prince through air and over water, succours to demand, and abundance of ocean's gleam to men to offer, and to their sons. 22. "Bid them speedily to the ships to go, and those from Brandey to hold them ready." There the king abode, until thither came warriors in hundreds from Hedinsey. 23. From the strands also, and from Stafnsnes, a naval force went out, with gold adorned. Helgi then of Hiorleif asked: "Hast thou mustered the valiant people?" 24. But the young king the other answered: "Slowly" said he "are counted from Tronuey the long-beaked ships, under the seafarers, which sail without in the Oresund,-- 25. Twelve hundred faithful men; though in Hatun there is more than half of the king's host--We are to war inured." 26. Then the steersman threw the ship's tents aside, that the princes' people might awake, and the noble chiefs the dawn might see; and the warriors hauled the sails up to the mast in Varinsfiord. 27. There was a dash of oars, and clash of iron, shield against shield resounded: the vikings rowed; roaring went, under the chieftains the royal fleet far from the land. 28. So might be heard, when together came the tempest's sister[50] and the long keels, as when rock and surge on each other break. 29. Higher still bade Helgi the deep sail be hauled. No port gave shelter to the crews; when Oegir's terrific daughter the chieftains' vessels would o'erwhelm, 30. But from above Sigrun intrepid, saved them and their fleet also; from the hand of Ran powerfully was wrested the royal ship at Gnipalund. 31. At eve they halted in Unavagar; the splendid ships might into port have floated, but the crews, from Svarinshaug, in hostile mood, espied the host. 32. Then demanded the god-born Gudmund: "Who is the chieftain that commands the fleet, and that formidable force brings to our land?" 33. Sinfiotli said, slinging up on the yard a red-hued shield with golden rim;--He at the strait kept watch, and able was to answer, and with nobles words exchange-- 34. "Tell it at eve, when you feed your pigs, and your dogs lead to their food, that the Ylfings from the east are come, ready to fight at Gnipalund. 35. Hodbrodd will Helgi find in the fleet's midst, a king hard to make flee, who has oft the eagles sated, while thou wast at the mills, kissing the thrall-wenches. _Gudmund_. 36. Little dost thou remember of ancient saws, when of the noble thou falsehoods utterest. Thou hast been eating wolves' dainties, and of thy brother wast the slayer; wounds hast thou often sucked with cold mouth; every where loathed, thou hast crawled in caverns. _Sinfiotli_. 37. Thou wast a Valacrone in Varinsey, cunning as a fox, a spreader of lies. Thou saidst thou no man wouldst ever marry, no corsleted warrior, save Sinfiotli. 38. A mischievous crone wast thou, a giantess, a Valkyria, insolent, monstrous, in Alfather's hall. All the Einheriar fought with each other, deceitful woman! for thy sake. Nine wolves we begat in Sagunes; I alone was father of them all. _Gudmund_. 39. Father thou wast not of Fenriswolves, older than all, as far as I remember; since by Gnipalund, the Thurs-maidens thee emasculated upon Thorsnes. 40. Thou wast Siggeir's stepson, at home under the benches layest, accustomed to the wolf's howl out in the forests: calamity of every kind came over thee, when thou didst lacerate thy brother's breast. Notorious thou mad'st thyself by thy atrocious works. _Sinfiotli_. 41. Thou wast Grani's bride at Bravollr, hadst a golden bit, ready for the course. Many a time have I ridden thee tired, hungry and saddled, through the fells, thou hag! _Gudmund_. 42. A graceless lad thou wast thought to be, when Gulnir's goats thou didst milk. Another time thou wast a giantess's daughter, a tattered wretch. Wilt thou a longer chat? _Sinfiotli_. 43. I rather would at Frekastein the ravens cram with thy carcase, than thy dogs lead to their meat, or thy hogs feed. May the fiend deal with thee! _Helgi_. 44. "Much more seemly, Sinfiotli! would it be for you both in battle to engage, and the eagles gladden, than with useless words to contend, however princes[51] may foster hate. 45. Not good to me appear Granmar's sons, yet 'tis right that princes should speak the truth: they have shown, at Moinsheimar, that they have courage to draw the sword."-- 46. Rapidly they their horses made to run, Svipud and Svegiud, to Solheimar, over dewy dales, dark mountain-sides; trembled the sea of mist, where the men went. 47. The king they met at the burgh's gate, to the prince announced the hostile advent. Without stood Hodbrodd with helmet decked: he the speed noticed of his kinsmen. "Why have ye Hniflungs such wrathful countenances?" 48. "Hither to the shore are come rapid keels, towering masts, and long yards, shields many, and smooth-shaven oars, a king's noble host, joyous Ylfings. 49. Fifteen bands are come to land; but there are out at sea, before Gnipalund, seven thousand blue-black ocean-beasts with gold adorned; there is by far their greatest multitude. Now will Helgi not delay the conflict." _Hodbrodd_. 50. "Let a bridled steed to the chief assembly run, but Sporvitnir to Sparinsheid; Melnir and Mylnir to Myrkvid; let no man stay behind of those who swords can brandish. 51. Summon to you Hogni, and the sons of Hring, Atli and Yngvi, Alf the old; they will gladly engage in conflict. We will let the Volsungs find resistance." 52. It was a whirlwind, when together came the fallow[52] blades at Frekastein: ever was Helgi Hundingsbani foremost in the host, where men together fought: ardent for battle, disdaining flight; the chieftain had a valiant heart. 53. Then came a maid from heaven, helmed, from above--the clash of arms increased--for the king's protection. Then said Sigrun--well skilled to fly to the host of heroes from Hugin's grove--[53] 54. "Unscathed shalt thou, prince! possess thy people, pillar of Yngvi's race! and life enjoy; thou hast laid low the slow of flight, the chief who caused the dread warrior's death. And thee, O king! well beseem both red-gold rings and a powerful maid: unscathed shalt thou, prince! both enjoy, Hogni's daughter, and Hringstadir, victory and lands: then is conflict ended." FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 49: That is, when they came to spin that period of his destiny.] [Footnote 50: Kolga Systir. Kolga was one of the daughters of Oeglr and Ran; they were the waves.] [Footnote 51: Literally _ring-breakers, or-dispensers_.] [Footnote 52: It would appear that their swords were of bronze.] [Footnote 53: Hugin's grove. The raven's grove, i.e., the battlefield, strewed with corpses, the raven's food.] THE SECOND LAY OF HELGI HUNDINGCIDE. King Sigmund, son of Volsung, had to wife Borghild of Bralund. They named their son Helgi, after Helgi Hiorvard's son. Helgi was fostered by Hagal. There was a powerful king named Hunding, after whom the land was called Hundland. He was a great warrior, and had many sons, who were engaged in warfare. There was enmity, both open and concealed, between King Hunding and King Sigmund, and they slew each other's kinsmen. King Sigmund and his kindred were called Volsungs, and Ylfings. Helgi went forth and secretly explored the court of King Hunding. Heming, Hunding's son, was at home. On departing Helgi met a herdsman, and said: 1. "Say thou to Heming, that Helgi bears in mind who the mailed warrior was, whom the men laid low, when the grey wolf ye had within, and King Hunding thought it was Hamal." Hamal was the son of Hagal. King Hunding sent men to Hagal in search of Helgi, and Helgi had no other way to save himself than by taking the clothes of a female slave and going to grind. They sought but did not find him. Then said Blind the Baleful: 2. Sharp are the eyes of Hagal's thrall-wench; of no churlish race is she who at the mill stands. The millstones are split, the receiver flies asunder. Now a hard fate has befallen the warrior, when a prince must barley grind: much more fitting to that hand is the falchion's hilt than a mill-handle. Hagal answered and said:-- 3. No wonder 'tis that the receiver rattles, when a royal damsel the handle turns. She hovered higher than the clouds, and, like the vikings, dared to fight, until Helgi made her captive. She is a sister of Sigar and Hogni; therefore has fierce eyes the Ylfing maid. Helgi escaped and went on board a ship of war. He slew King Hunding, and was afterwards named Helgi Hundingsbani. He lay with his force in Brunavagar, and carried on "strand-hogg"[54] and ate raw flesh. There was a king named Hogni, whose daughter was Sigrun: she was a Valkyria, and rode through the air and over the sea. She was Svava regenerated. Sigrun rode to Helgi, and said:-- 4. What men cause a ship along the coasts to float? where do ye warriors a home possess? what await ye in Brunavagar? whither desire ye to explore a way? _Helgi_. 5. Hamal causes a ship along the coasts to float; we have home in Hlesey; a fair wind we await in Brunavagar; eastward we desire to explore a way. _Sigrun_. 6. Where, O prince! hast thou wakened war, or fed the birds of conflict's sisters?[55] Why is thy corslet sprinkled with blood? Why beneath the helm eat ye raw flesh? _Helgi_. 7. It was the Ylfings' son's last achievement,--if thou desirest to know--west of the ocean, that I took bears in Bragalund, and the eagles' race with our weapons sated. Now, maiden! I have said what the reasons were, why at sea we little cooked meat ate. _Sigrun_. 8. To a battle thou alludest. Before Helgi has King Hunding been doomed to fall. In conflict ye have engaged, when your kindred ye avenged, and stained with blood the falchion's edge. _Helgi_. 9. Why dost thou suppose, sagacious maiden! that it was they, who their kin avenged? Many a warrior's bold sons there are, and hostile to our kindred. _Sigrun_. 10. I was not far, leader of people! eager, at many a chieftain's end: yet crafty I account Sigmund's son, when in val-runes[56] the slaughter he announces. 11. A while ago I saw thee commanding the warships, when thou hadst station on the bloody prow, and the cold sea waves were playing. Now, prince! thou wilt from me conceal it, but Hogni's daughter recognizes thee. Granmar was the name of a powerful prince who dwelt at Svarinshaug. He had many sons: one was called Hodbrodd, the second Gudmund, the third Starkadr. Hodbrodd was at the assembly of kings, and there betrothed himself to Sigrun, the daughter of Hogni. But when she was informed of it, she rode with the Valkyriur through the air and over the sea in quest of Helgi. Helgi was at that time at Logafioll, warring against the sons of Hunding, where he slew Alf and Eyiolf, Hiorvard and Hervard. Being over-fatigued with the conflict, he was sitting under the Arastein, where Sigrun found him, and running to him, threw her arms around his neck, and, kissing him, told him her errand so as it related in the first Volsungakvida. 12. Sigrun sought the joyous prince, Helgi's hand she forthwith grasped, kissed and addressed the helm-decked king. 13. Then was the chieftain's mind to the lady turned. She declared that she had loved, with her whole heart, Sigmund's son, before she had seen him. 14. "To Hodbrodd I was in th' assembly betrothed, but I another prince would have: yet, chieftain! I foresee my kindred's wrath: I have my father's promise broken." 15. Hogni's daughter spoke not at variance with her heart: she said that Helgi's affection she must possess. _Helgi_. 16. Care thou not for Hogni's wrath, nor for the evil mind of thy kin. Thou shalt, young maiden! live with me: of a good race thou art, as I perceive. Helgi then collected a large fleet and proceeded to Frekastein, and at sea experienced a perilous storm. Lightnings came over them, and the flashes entered the ships. They saw that nine Valkyriur were riding in the air, and recognized Sigrun among them. The storm then abated and they reached land in safety. The sons of Granmar were sitting on a hill as the ships were sailing towards the land. Gudmund leapt on a horse, and rode to explore on the hill by the haven. The Volsungs then lowered their sails, and Gudmund spoke as is before written in the Helgakvida:-- "Who is the leader that commands the fleet, and an appalling host leads to our land?" This said Gudmund, Granmar's son: 17. Who is the warrior that commands the ships, and lets his golden banner wave o'er his prow? No peace seems to me in that ship's front; it casts a warlike glow around the vikings. Sinfiotli, Sigmund's son, answered: 18. Here may Hodbrodd Helgi learn to know, the hard of flight, in the fleet's midst: he the possession holds of thy race; he the fishes' heritage has to him subjected. _Gudmund_. 19. Therefore ought we first, at Frekastein, to settle together, and decide our quarrels! Hodbrodd! 'tis time vengeance to take, if an inferior lot we long have borne. _Sinfiotli_. 20. Rather shalt thou, Gudmund! tend goats, and steep mountain-tops shalt climb, have in thy hand a hazel staff, that will better please thee than judgments of the sword. Gudmund rode home with intelligence of the hostile armament; whereupon the sons of Granmar collected a host, and many kings came thither. Among them were Hogni, the father of Sigrun, with his sons, Bragi and Dag. There was a great battle, and all the sons of Hogni, and all their chiefs were slain, except Dag, who obtained peace, and swore oaths to the Volsungs. Sigrun, going among the slain, found Hodbrodd at the point of death. She said: 23. Not will Sigrun of Sefafioll, King Hodbrodd! sink in thy arms: thy life is departed. Oft the axe's blade the head approaches of Granmar's sons. She then met Helgi, and was overjoyed. He said: 24. Not to thee, all-wise maiden! are all things granted, though, I say, in somewhat are the Norns to blame. This morn have fallen at Frekastein Bragi and Hogni: I was their slayer. 25. But at Styrkleifar King Starkadr, and at Hlebiorg the son of Hrollaug. That prince I saw of all most fierce, whose trunk yet fought when the head was far. 26. On the earth lie the greater number of thy kinsmen, to corpses turned. Thou hast not fought the battle, yet 'twas decreed, that thou, potent maiden! shouldst cause the strife. Sigrun then wept. Helgi said: 27. Sigrun! console thyself; a Hild thou hast been to us. Kings cannot conquer fate: gladly would I have them living who are departed, if I might clasp thee to my breast. Helgi obtained Sigrun, and they had sons. Helgi lived not to be old. Dag, the son of Hogni, sacrificed to Odin, for vengeance for his father. Odin lent Dag his spear. Dag met with his relation Helgi in a place called Fioturlund, and pierced him through with his spear. Helgi fell there, but Dag rode to the mountains and told Sigrun what had taken place. 28. Loath am I, sister! sad news to tell thee; for unwillingly I have my sister caused to weep. This morning fell, in Fioturlund, the prince who was on earth the best, and on the necks of warriors stood. _Sigrun_. 29. Thee shall the oaths all gnaw, which to Helgi thou didst swear, at the limpid Leiptr's water, and at the cold dank wave-washed rock. 30. May the ship not move forward, which under thee should move, although the wished-for wind behind thee blow. May the horse not run, which under thee should run, although from enemies thou hast to flee! 31. May the sword not bite which thou drawest, unless it sing round thy own head. Then would Helgi's death be on thee avenged, if a wolf thou wert, out in the woods, of all good bereft, and every joy, have no sustenance, unless on corpses thou shouldst spring. _Dag_. 32. Sister! thou ravest, and hast lost thy wits, when on thy brother thou callest down such miseries. Odin alone is cause of all the evil; for between relatives he brought the runes of strife. 33. Thy brother offers thee rings of red gold, all Vandilsve and Vigdalir: have half the land, thy grief to compensate, woman ring-adorned! thou and thy sons. _Sigrun_. 34. So happy I shall not sit at Sefafioll, neither at morn nor night, as to feel joy in life, if o'er the people plays not the prince's beam of light; if his war-steed runs not under the chieftain hither, to the gold bit accustomed; if in the king I cannot rejoice. 35. So had Helgi struck with fear all his foes and their kindred, as before the wolf the goats run frantic from the fell, of terror full. 36. So himself Helgi among warriors bore, as the towering ash is among thorns, or as the fawn, moistened with dew, that more proudly stalks than all the other beasts, and its horns glisten against the sky. A mound was raised for Helgi; but when he came to Valhall, Odin offered him the rule over all jointly with himself. Helgi said: 37. Thou, Hunding! shalt for every man a foot-bath get, and fire kindle; shalt bind the dogs, to the horses look, to the swine give wash, ere to sleep thou goest. A female slave passing at evening by Helgi's mound, saw him riding towards it with many men: 38. Is it a delusion which methinks I see, or the powers' dissolution, that ye, dead men, ride, and your horses with spurs urge on, or to warriors is a home journey granted? _Helgi_. 39. 'Tis no delusion which thou thinkst to see, nor of mankind the end, although thou seest us, although our horses we with spurs urge on, nor to warriors is a home-journey granted. The slave went home and said to Sigrun: 40. Sigrun! go forth from Sefafioll, if the people's chief thou desirest to meet. The mound is opened, Helgi is come, his wounds still bleed; the prince prayed thee that thou wouldst still the trickling blood. Sigrun entered the mound to Helgi and said: 41. Now am I as glad, at our meeting, as the voracious hawks of Odin, when they of slaughter know; of warm prey, or, dewy-feathered, see the peep of day. 43. I will kiss my lifeless king, ere thou thy bloody corslet layest aside. Thy hair is, Helgi! tumid with sweat of death; my prince is all bathed in slaughter-dew; cold, clammy are the hands of Hogni's son. How shall I, prince! for this make thee amends? _Helgi_. 43. Thou art alone the cause,[57] Sigrun of Sefafioll! that Helgi is with sorrow's dew suffused. Thou weepest, gold-adorned! cruel tears, sun-bright daughter of the south! ere to sleep thou goest; each one falls bloody on the prince's breast, wet, cold, and piercing, with sorrow big. 44. We shall surely drink delicious draughts, though we have lost life and lands. No one shall a song of mourning sing, though on my breast he wounds behold. Now are women in the mound enclosed, daughters of kings, with us the dead. Sigrun prepares a bed in the mound. 35. Here, Helgi! have I for thee a peaceful couch prepared, for the Ylfings' son. On thy breast I will, chieftain! repose, as in my hero's lifetime I was wont. _Helgi_. 46. Nothing I now declare unlooked for, at Sefafioll, late or early, since in a corpse's arms thou sleepest, Hogni's fair daughter! in a mound, and thou art living, daughter of kings! 47. Time 'tis for me to ride on the reddening ways: let the pale horse tread the aerial path. I towards the west must go over Vindhialm's bridge, ere Salgofnir awakens heroes. Helgi and his attendants rode their way, but Sigrun and hers proceeded to their habitation. The following evening Sigrun ordered her serving-maid to hold watch at the mound; but at nightfall, when Sigrun came thither, she said: 48. Now would he come, if he to come intended, Sigmund's son, from Odin's halls. I think the hope lessens of the king's coming, since on the ash's boughs the eagles sit, and all the folk to the dreams' tryst are hastening. _Serving-maid_. 49. Be not so rash alone to go, daughter of heroes! to the house of draugs:[58] more powerful are, in the night-season, all dead warriors, than in the light of day. Sigrun's life was shortened by grief and mourning. It was a belief in ancient times that men were regenerated, but that is now regarded as an old crone's fancy. Helgi and Sigrun are said to have been regenerated. He was then called Helgi Haddingiaskadi, and she Kara Halfdan's daughter, as it is said in the songs of Kara; and she also was a Valkyria. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 54: Slaughtering and carrying off the cattle on the sea-shore.] [Footnote 55: The Valkyriur.] [Footnote 56: Dark words of deadly import.] [Footnote 57: The superstition commemorated In this strophe is, no doubt, the origin of some very beautiful ballads in the later literature of Scandinavia and Germany referring to this superstition: "When thou, my dear, art cheerful, And easy in thy mind, The coffin where I slumber Is all with roses lined. But oft as thou'rt in sorrow, And bow'd with grief so sore, Is all the while my coffin Brim full of blood and gore." ] [Footnote 58: Probably house of draffs; place of swine, swill, lees.] SINFIOTLI'S END. Sigmund Volsung's son was a king in Frankland. Sinfiotli was the eldest of his sons, the second was Helgi, the third Hamund. Borghild, Sigmund's wife, had a brother named Gunnar; but Sinfiotli her stepson and Gunnar both courted one woman, on which account Sinfiotli slew Gunnar. When he came home, Borghild bade him go away, but Sigmund offered the blood-fine, which it was incumbent on her to accept. At the funeral feast Borghild presented the beer: she took a large horn full of poison, and offered it to Sinfiotli; who, when he looked into the horn, and saw that there was poison in it, said to Sigmund: "the drink ferments!" Sigmund took the horn and drank up the contents. It is said that Sigmund was so strong that no poison could hurt him, either outwardly or inwardly; but that all his sons could endure poison outwardly. Borghild bore another horn to Sinfiotli, and prayed him to drink, when all took place as before. Yet a third time she offered him the horn, using reproachful words on his refusing to drink. He said as before to Sigmund, but the latter answered: "Let it pass through thy lips, my son." Sinfiotli drank and instantly died. Sigmund bore him a long way in his arms, and came to a long and narrow firth, where there was a little vessel and one man in it. He offered Sigmund to convey him over the firth; but when Sigmund had borne the corpse into the vessel, the boat was full-laden. The man then said that Sigmund should go before through the firth. He then pushed off his boat and instantly departed. King Sigmund sojourned long in Denmark, in Borghild's kingdom, after having espoused her. He then went south to Frankland, to the kingdom he there possessed. There he married Hiordis, the daughter of Eylimi. Sigurd was their son. King Sigmund fell in a battle with the sons of Hunding. Hiordis was afterwards married to Alf, son of King Hialprek, with whom Sigurd grew up in childhood. Sigmund and his sons exceeded all other men in strength, and stature, and courage, and all accomplishments, though Sigurd was foremost of all; and in old traditions he is mentioned as excelling all men, and as the most renowned of warlike kings. THE FIRST LAY OF SIGURD FAFNICIDE, OR GRIPIR'S PROPHECY. Gripir was the name of the son of Eylimi, the brother of Hiordis. He ruled over lands, and was of all men wisest and prescient of the future. Sigurd rode alone, and came to Gripir's dwelling. Sigurd was of a distinguished figure. He found a man to address outside the hall, whose name was Geitir. Sigurd applied to him, and asked: 1. Who here inhabits, in these towers? what nation's king do people name him? _Geitir_. Gripir is named the chief of men, he who rules a firm realm and people. _Sigurd_. 2. Is the wise king of the land at home? Will the chief with me come and converse? With him needs speech an unknown man: I desire speedily Gripir to see. _Geitir_. 3. The glad king will of Geitir ask, who the man is that demands speech of Gripir. _Sigurd_. Sigurd I am named, born of Sigmund, and Hiordis is the chieftain's mother. 4. Then went Geitir, Gripir to inform: "Here is a man without, a stranger, come; of aspect he is most distinguished. He desires, king! with thee to speak." 5. Goes from the hall the lord of men, and the stranger prince kindly greets: "Welcome, Sigurd! better had it been earlier: but do thou, Geitir! take charge of Grani." 6. They began to talk, and much to tell, when the sagacious men together met. "Tell me, if thou knowest, my mother's brother! how will Sigurd's life fall out?" _Gripir_. 7. Thou wilt foremost be of men beneath the sun, exalted high above every king; liberal of gold, but of flight sparing, of aspect comely, and wise of words. _Sigurd_. 8. Say thou, sage king! more than I ask, thou wise one, to Sigurd, if thou thinkst to see it: what will first happen for my advancement, when from thy dwelling I shall have departed? _Gripir_. 9. First wilt thou, prince! avenge thy father, and for the wrongs of Eylimi wilt retaliate; thou wilt the cruel sons of Hunding boldly lay low; thou wilt have victory. _Sigurd_. 10. Say, noble king! kinsman mine! with all forethought, as we hold friendly converse; seest thou of Sigurd those bold achievements, that will highest soar under heaven's regions?" _Gripir_. 11. Thou alone wilt slay that glistening serpent, which greedy lies on Gnitaheid; thou shalt of both the slayer be, Regin and Fafnir. Gripir tells truly. _Sigurd_. 12. Riches will abound, if I so bring conflict among men, as thou for certain sayest. Apply thy mind, and at length say what will yet my life befall. _Gripir_. 13. Thou wilt find Fafnir's lair, and thence wilt take splendid riches, with gold wilt load Grani's back. Thou wilt to Giuki ride, the war-famed prince. _Sigurd_. 14. Yet must thou, prince! in friendly speech, foresighted king! more relate. I shall be Giuki's guest, and I shall thence depart: what will next my life befall? _Gripir_. 15. A king's daughter will on a mountain sleep, fair, in corslet cased, after Helgi's death. Thou wilt strike with a keen sword, wilt the corslet sever with Fafnir's bane. _Sigurd_. 16. The corslet is ript open, the maid begins to speak. When awakened from her sleep, on what will she chiefly with Sigurd converse hold, which to the prince's benefit may tend? _Gripir_. 17. She to thee, powerful one! runes will teach, all those which men ought to know; and in every man's tongue to speak, and medicines for healing. May good await thee, king! _Sigurd_. 18. Now that is past, the knowledge is acquired, and I am ready thence away to ride. Apply thy mind, and at length say what more will my life befall. _Gripir_. 19. Thou wilt find Heimir's dwellings, and the glad guest wilt be of that great king. Vanished is, Sigurd! that which I foresaw; no further mayest thou Gripir question. _Sigurd_. 20. Now bring me grief the words thou speakest; for thou foreseest, king! much further; thou knowest of too great calamity to Sigurd; therefore thou, Gripir! wilt not utter it. _Gripir_. 21. Of thy life the early portion lay before me clearest to contemplate. I am not truly accounted sage, nor of the future prescient: that which I knew is gone. _Sigurd_. 22. No man I know on the earth's surface, who greater prescience has than thou, Gripir! Thou mayest not conceal it, unhappy though it be, or if ill betide my life. _Gripir_. 23. Not with vices will thy life be sullied; let that, noble prince! in thy mind be borne; for while mankind exists, thy name, director of the spear-storm! will be supreme. _Sigurd_. 24. The worst seems to me, that Sigurd is compelled from the king to part in such uncertainty. Show me the way--all is decreed before--great chieftain! if thou wilt, my mother's brother! _Gripir_. 25. To Sigurd I will now openly tell, since the chieftain me thereto compels: thou wilt surely find that I lie not. A certain day is for thy death decreed. _Sigurd_. 26. I would not importune the mighty prince, but rather Gripir's good counsel have. Now I fain would know, though grateful it may not be, what prospect Sigurd has lying before him. _Gripir_. 27. There is with Heimir a maiden fair of form, she is by men Brynhild named, daughter of Budli; but the dear king Heimir nurtures the hard-souled damsel. _Sigurd_. 28. What is it to me, although the maiden be of aspect fair? nurtured with Heimir? That thou, Gripir! must fully declare; for thou foreseest my whole destiny. _Gripir_. 29. She will thee bereave of almost every joy, the fair-faced foster-child of Heimir. Thou wilt not sleep, nor of affairs discourse, nor men regard; only this maiden thou wilt see. _Sigurd_. 30. What remedy for Sigurd will be applied; tell me that, Gripir! if it seem good to thee. Shall I obtain the damsel? with dowry purchase the lovely royal daughter? _Gripir_. 31. Ye will each swear unnumbered oaths, solemnly binding, but few will keep. Hast thou been Giuki's guest one night, thou wilt have forgotten the fair ward of Heimir. _Sigurd_. 32. How is that, Gripir! explain it to me: seest thou such fickleness in the king's mind, that with that maiden I shall my engagement break, whom with my whole heart I thought to love? _Gripir_. 33. Prince! thou wilt be snared in another's wiles, thou wilt pay the penalty of Grimhild's craft; the bright-haired maiden, her daughter, she to thee will offer. This snare for the king she lays. _Sigurd_. 34. Shall I then with Gunnar form relationship, and with Gudrun join in wedlock? Well wived then the king would be, if the pangs of perjury caused me no pain. _Gripir_. 35. Thee will Grimhild wholly beguile; she will implore thee Brynhild to demand for the hand of Gunnar, king of Goths: the journey thou wilt forthwith promise to the king's mother. _Sigurd_. 36. Evils are at hand, I can that perceive; Sigurd's wits will have wholly perished, if I shall demand for another's hand, a noble maiden whom I well love. _Gripir_. 37. All of you will swear mutual oaths, Gunnar, and Hogni, and thou the third; and ye will forms exchange, when on the way ye are, Gunnar and thou: Gripir lies not. _Sigurd_. 38. To what end is that? why shall we exchange forms and manners, when on the way we are? Another fraud will surely follow this, altogether horrible. But say on, Gripir! _Gripir_. 39. Thou wilt have Gunnar's semblance, and his manners, thy own eloquence, and great sagacity: there thou wilt betroth the high-minded ward of Heimir: no one can that prevent. _Sigurd_. 40. To me that seems worst, that among men I shall be a false traitor called, if such take place. I would not deception practise on a royal maid the most excellent I know. _Gripir_. 41. Thou wilt repose, leader of hosts! pure with the maiden, as she thy mother were; therefore exalted, lord of men! while the world endures thy name will be. 42. The nuptials will of both be solemnized, of Sigurd and of Gunnar, in Giuki's halls; then will ye forms exchange, when ye home return; yet to himself will have each his own senses. _Sigurd._ 43. Will then Gunnar, chief among men, the noble woman wed? Tell me that, Gripir! although three nights by me the chieftain's bride glad of heart has slept? The like has no example. 44. How for happiness shall hereafter be this affinity? Tell me that, Gripir! Will the alliance for Gunnar's solace henceforth prove, or even for mine? _Gripir._ 45. Thou wilt the oaths remember, and must silence keep, and let Gudrun enjoy a happy union. Brynhild nathless will herself think an ill-married woman. She will wiles devise to avenge herself. _Sigurd._ 46. What atonement will that woman take, for the frauds we shall have practised on her? From me the maiden has oaths sworn, but never kept, and but little joy. _Gripir._ 47. She to Gunnar will plainly declare, that thou didst not well the oaths observe, when the noble king, Giuki's heir, with his whole soul, in thee confided. _Sigurd._ 48. What will then follow? let me know that. Will that tale appear as true, or that the noble woman falsely accuses me, and herself also. Tell me that, Gripir! _Gripir_. 49. From spite towards thee, and from o'erwhelming grief, the powerful dame will not most wisely act. To the noble woman do thou no further harm, though thou the royal bride with guiles hast circumvented. _Sigurd_. 50. Will the prudent Gunnar, Guthorm, and Hogni, at her instigation, then proceed? Will Giuki's sons on their relative redden their swords? Tell me further, Gripir! _Gripir_. 51. Then will Gudrun be furious at heart, when her brothers shall on thy death resolve. In nothing then will that wise woman take delight. Such is Grimhild's work. 52. In this thou shalt find comfort, leader of hosts! This fortune is allotted to the hero's life: a more renowned man on earth shall never be, under the sun's abode, than thou wilt be accounted. _Sigurd_. 53. Now part we, now farewell! Fate may not be withstood. Now hast thou, Gripir! done as I prayed thee: thou wouldst have fain a happier end foretold me of my life's days, hadst thou been able. THE SECOND LAY OF SIGURD FAFNICIDE. Sigurd went to Hialprek's stud and chose himself a horse, which was afterwards named Grani. Regin, Hreidmar's son, was then come to Hialprek; he was the most skilful of men, and a dwarf in stature; he was wise, cruel, and versed in magic. Regin undertook the rearing and instruction of Sigurd, and bore him great affection. He informed Sigurd of his parentage, and how it befell that Odin, and Hoenir, and Loki came to Andvarafors (the waterfall of Andvari). In the fall there was an abundance of fish. There was a dwarf named Andvari, who had long lived in the fall in the likeness of a pike, and in which he supplied himself with food. "Our brother," continued Regin, "was named Otr, who often went into the fall in the likeness of an otter. He had caught a salmon, and was sitting on the bank of the river with his eyes shut eating it, when Loki killed him with a stone. The Æsir thought themselves very lucky, and stripped off the otter's skin. That same evening they sought entertainment with Hreidmar, and showed their prize. Thereupon we laid hands on them, and imposed on them, as the redemption of their lives, that they should fill the otter's skin with gold, and cover it over with red gold. They thereupon sent Loki to procure gold. He went to Ran, and obtained her net, and thence proceeded to Andvarafors, and cast the net before a pike, which leapt into the net. Whereupon Loki said: 1. What fish is this, that in the river swims, and cannot from harm itself protect? Redeem thy life from Hel, and find me the water's flame.[59] _The Pike_. 2. Andvari I am named, Oin was my father named; many a cataract have I passed. A luckless Norn in times of old decreed, that in the water I should wade. _Loki_. 3. Tell me, Andvari! if thou wilt enjoy life in the halls of men, what retribution get the sons of mortals, if with foul words they assail each other. _Andvari_. 4. Cruel retribution get the sons of mortals, who in Vadgelmir wade: for the false words they have against others uttered, the punishments too long endure. Loki viewed all the gold that Andvari owned; but when he had produced the gold, he retained a single ring, which Loki also took from him. The dwarf went into his stone and said: 5. That gold which the dwarf possessed, shall to two brothers be cause of death, and to eight princes, of dissension. From my wealth no one shall good derive. The Æsir produced the gold to Hreidmar, and with it crammed the otter's skin full, and set it up on the feet. They then had to heap up the gold and cover it; but when that was done, Hreidmar, stepping forward, observed a whisker, and required it to be covered; whereupon Odin drew forth the ring "Andvaranaut," and covered the hair. Loki said: 6. There is gold for thee, and thou hast a great redemption for my life. For thy son no blessing is decreed; of both it shall prove the bane. _Hreidmar_. 7. Gifts thou hast given, friendly gifts thou hast given not; with a kind heart thou hast not given. Of your lives ye should have been deprived, had I foreknown that peril. 8. But that is worse, what I seem to know,--a strife of kinsmen for a woman. Princes yet unborn I think them to be, for whose hate that gold is destined. 9. The red gold, I trust, I shall possess while I am living: of thy threats I entertain no fear; so take yourselves hence home. Fafnir and Regin demanded of Hreidmar their share of the blood-fine for their slain brother Otr, which he refused, and Fafnir stabbed his father with a sword while sleeping. Hreidmar called out to his daughters: 10. Lyngheid and Lofnheid! Know my life is departing. To many things need compels.[60] _Lyngheid_. Few sisters will, although they lose a father, avenge a brother's crime. _Hreidmar_. 11. Then bring forth a daughter, wolf-hearted fury! If by a chief thou have not a son. Get for the maid a spouse, in thy great need; then will her son thy wrong avenge. Hreidmar then died, and Fafnir took all the gold. Regin then requested to have his share of the patrimony, but met with a refusal from Fafnir. Regin thereupon sought counsel of his sister Lyngheid, how he might obtain his patrimony. She said: 12. Thou of thy brother shalt mildly demand thy patrimony and a better spirit. It is not seemly, that with the sword thou shouldst demand thy property of Fafnir. The foregoing is what Regin related to Sigurd. One day, when he came to Regin's dwelling, he was kindly received, and Regin said: 13. Hither is come the son of Sigmund to our Hall, that man of energy: courage he has greater than I aged man: now of a conflict have I hope from the fierce wolf.[61] 14. I will nurture the bold-hearted prince: now Yngvi's kinsman is to us come; he will be a king under the sun most powerful; over all lands will his destinies resound. Sigurd was thence forward constantly with Regin, who related to him how Fafnir lay on Gnitaheid in the likeness of a serpent. He had an "Oegis-helm,"[62] at which all living beings were terror-stricken. Regin forged a sword for Sigurd, that was named Gram, and was so sharp that immersing it in the Rhine, he let a piece of wool down the stream, when it clove the fleece asunder as water. With that sword Sigurd clove in two Regin's anvil. After that Regin instigated Sigurd to slay Fafnir. He said: 15. Loud will laugh Hunding's sons, they who Eylimi of life deprived, if the prince is more desirous to seek red rings, than to avenge his father. King Hialprek collected a fleet to enable Sigurd to avenge his father. They encountered a great storm, and were driven past a certain promontory. A man was standing on the cliff who said: 16. Who ride yonder, on Rævils horses, the towering billows, the roaring main: the sail-steeds are with sweat bedewed, the wave-coursers will not the wind withstand. _Regin_. 17. Here am I and Sigurd in sea-trees; a fair wind is given us for death itself: higher than our prows the steep waves dash, the rolling horses plunge. Who is it that inquires? _Hnikar_. 18. They called me Hnikar, when I Hugin gladdened, young Volsung! and battles fought. Now they mayest call me the ancient of the rock, Feng, or Fiolnir.--I desire a passage. They turn to the land, the old man goes on board, and the storm abates. Sigurd said: 19. Tell me, Hnikar! since thou knowest the omens both of gods and men, which omens are the best--if to fight 'tis needful--at the swing of glaves? _Hnikar_. 20. Good omens there are many, if men but knew them, at the swing of glaves, a faithful fellowship, I think, is the dark raven's, with the sworded warrior. 21. The second is, if, when thou art gone out, and about to depart, thou seest two renown-seeking men standing in the fore-court. 22. The third omen is, if wolves thou hearest howl under the ash-boughs, it will victory to thee announce over helmed warriors, if thou seest them go before thee. 23. No man should fight against the moon's late-shining sister. They have victory, who can see keenly at the play of swords, or to form the wedge-array. 24. Most perilous it is, if with thy foot thou strikest, when thou to battle goest. Wily Disir stand on either side of thee, and wish to see thee wounded. 25. Combed and washed let every brave man be, and at morning fed; for 'tis uncertain whither he at eve may come. 'Tis bad to succumb to fate. Sigurd fought a great battle with Lyngvi, Hunding's son, and his brothers, in which Lyngvi and his three brothers fell. After the battle Regin said: 26. Now is the bloody eagle, with the trenchant blade, graven on the back of Sigmund's slayer. No son of king, who the earth reddens, and the raven gladdens, is more excellent. Sigurd returned home to Hialprek, when Regin instigated him to slay Fafnir. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 59: One of many periphrases for gold.] [Footnote 60: To wit, _to avenge my death on your brothers_.] [Footnote 61: Sigurd.] [Footnote 62: A terrific helm or headpiece.] THE LAY OF FAFNIR. Sigurd and Regin went up to Gnitaheid, and there found Fafnir's slot, or track, along which he crawled to the water. There on the way Sigurd made a large pit, and went down into it. When Fafnir crawled from the gold he blew forth venom, but it flew over Sigurd's head. When Fafnir crept over the pit, Sigurd with his sword pierced him to the heart. Fafnir shook himself, and beat with his head and tail. Sigurd leapt from the pit, and each looked at the other. Fafnir said: 1. Young fellow! young fellow! by what fellow art thou begot? of what people are thou the son? that thou in Fafnir reddenst thy glittering falchion? Thy sword has pierced my heart. Sigurd concealed his name, because it was the belief in those times, that the words of dying persons were of great power, if they cursed an enemy by his name. _Sigurd_. 2. Gofugt-dyr I am called, but I have wandered a motherless child; nor have I a father like the sons of men: alone I wander. _Fafnir_. 3. If thou hast no father like the sons of men, by what wonder art thou begotten? _Sigurd_. 4. My race, I tell thee, is to thee unknown, and myself also. Sigmund was my father named, my name is Sigurd, who with weapon have assailed thee. _Fafnir_. 5. Who has incited thee? why hast thou suffered thyself to be incited to take my life? youth of the sparkling eyes! Thou hadst a cruel father-- * * * * _Sigurd_. 6. My heart incited me, my hands gave me aid, and my keen sword. Rarely a man is bold, when of mature age, if in childhood he was faint-hearted. _Fafnir_. 7. I know if thou hadst chanced to grow in the lap of friends, they would have seen thee fierce in fight. Now thou art a captive, taken in war, and, 'tis said, slaves ever tremble. _Sigurd_. 8. Why Fafnir! dost thou upbraid me that I am far from my paternal home? I am not a captive, although in war I was taken: thou hast found that I am free. _Fafnir_. 9. Thou wilt account only as angry words all I to thee shall say, but I will say the truth. The jingling gold, and the gleed-red treasure, those rings, shall be thy bane. _Sigurd_. 10. Treasure at command every one desires, ever till that one day; for at some time each mortal shall hence to Hel depart. _Fafnir_. 11. The Norns' decree thou wilt hold in contempt as from a witless wight: In water thou shalt be drowned, if in wind thou rowest. All things bring peril to the fated. _Sigurd_. 12. Tell me, Fafnir! as thou art wise declared, and many things to know: who those Norns are, who help in need, and from babes loose the mothers. _Fafnir_. 13. Very diversely born I take those Norns to be: they have no common race. Some are of Æsir-race, some of Alfar-race, some are Dvalin's daughters. _Sigurd_. 14. Tell me, Fafnir! as thou art wise declared, and many things to know, how that holm is called, where Surt and the Æsir will sword-liquor together mingle? _Fafnir_. 15. Oskopnir it is called; there shall the gods with lances play; Bifrost shall be broken, when they go forth, and their steeds in the river swim. 16. An Oegis-helm I bore among the sons of men, while I o'er the treasures lay; stronger than all I thought myself to be; stronger I found not many! _Sigurd_. 17. An Oegis-helm is no protection, where men impelled by anger fight: soon he finds, who among many comes, that no one is alone the boldest. _Fafnir_. 18. Venom I blew forth, when on my father's great heritage I lay. _Sigurd_. 19. Thou, glistening serpent! didst a great belching make, and wast so hard of heart. Fierceness so much the greater have the sons of men, when they possess that helm. _Fafnir_. 20. Sigurd! I now counsel thee, do thou take my counsel; and hence ride home. The jingling gold, and the gleed-red treasure, those rings, shall be thy bane. _Sigurd_. 21. Counsel regarding thee is taken, and I to the gold will ride, on the heath that lies. But lie thou, Fafnir! in the pangs of death, until Hel have thee! _Fafnir_. 22. Regin betrayed me, he will thee betray, he of us both will be the bane. Fafnir must, I trow, let forth his life: thine was the greater might! Regin had gone away while Sigurd slew Fafnir, but came back as Sigurd was wiping the blood from his sword. He said: 23. Hail to thee now, Sigurd! Now hast thou victory won and Fafnir slain: of all the men who tread the earth, thou art, I say, the bravest born. _Sigurd_. 24. Uncertain 'tis to know, when we all come together, sons of victorious heroes, which is the bravest born. Many a one is bold, who sword has never broken in another's breast. _Regin_. 25. Glad are thou now, Sigurd! and in thy gain rejoicing, while Gram, in the grass thou driest. My brother thou to death hast wounded, yet in some degree was I the cause. _Sigurd_. 26. Thou didst me counsel, that I should ride o'er high fells hither. Treasure and life had still possess'd that glistening serpent, hadst thou my anger not excited. Regin then approached Fafnir and cut out his heart with a sword named Ridill, and afterwards drank blood from his wound. He said: 27. Sit now, Sigurd!--but I must go to sleep--and Fafnir's heart hold to the fire. Of this refection I would fain partake, after that drink of blood. _Sigurd_. 28. Thou wentst far off, while I in Fafnir my keen sword reddened. With my strength I strove against the serpent's might, while in the ling thou layest. _Regin_. 29. Long hadst thou allowed in the ling to lie that Jotun old, hadst thou the sword not used that I forged for thee, thy keen-edged glave. _Sigurd_. 30. Valour is better than might of sword, when foes embittered fight; for a brave man I have ever seen gain victory with a dull sword. 31. For the brave 'tis better than for the timid to join in the game of war; for the joyous it is better than for the sad, let come whatever may. Sigurd took Fafnir's heart and roasted it on a stick. When he thought it roasted enough, and the blood frothed from it, he touched it with his finger, to try whether it were quite done. He burnt his finger and put it in his mouth; and when Fafnir's heart's blood touched his tongue he understood the language of birds. He heard the eagles chattering among the branches. One eagle said: 38. There sits Sigurd sprinkled with blood; Fafnir's heart at the fire he roasts. Wise methinks were the ring-dispenser, if he the glistening life-pulp ate. _Second eagle_. 33. There lies Regin communing with himself; he will beguile the youth, who in him trusts: in rage he brings malicious words together, the framer of evil will avenge his brother. _Third eagle_. 34. By the head shorter, let him the hoary babbler send hence to Hel; then can he all the gold possess alone, the mass that under Fafnir lay. _Fourth eagle_. 35. He would, methinks, be prudent, if he could have your friendly counsel, my sisters! If he would bethink himself, and Hugin gladden. There I expect the wolf, where his ears I see. _Fifth eagle_. 36. Not so prudent is that tree of battle, as I that martial leader had supposed, if he one brother lets depart, now he the other has of life bereft. _Sixth eagle_. 37. He is most simple, if he longer spares that people's pest. There lies Regin, who has betrayed him.--He cannot guard against it. _Seventh eagle_. 38. By the head shorter let him make the ice-cold Jotun, and of his rings deprive him; then of that treasure thou,[63] which Fafnir owned, sole lord wilt be! _Sigurd_. 39. Fate shall not so resistless be, that Regin shall my death-word bear; for the brothers both shall speedily go hence to Hel. Sigurd cut off the head of Regin, and then ate Fafnir's heart, and drank the blood of both Regin and Fafnir. He then heard the eagles saying: 40. Bind thou, Sigurd! the red-gold rings. It is not kingly many things to fear. I a maid know by far the fairest, with gold adorned. Couldst thou but her obtain! _Second eagle_. 41. To Giuki lead all-verdant ways; the fates point out to wayfarers where the good king a born daughter has; her wilt thou, Sigurd! purchase with bridal gifts. _Third eagle_. 42. There stands a hall on the high Hindarfiall, without 'tis all with fire surrounded; sagacious men have it constructed of the resplendent radiance of the flood.[64] _Fourth eagle_. 43. On the fell I know a warrior maid to sleep, over her waves the linden's bane.[65] Ygg whilom stuck a sleep-thorn in the robe of the maid who would heroes choose. 44. Thou, youth! mayest see the helmed maiden, her whom Vingskornir from battle bore. May not Sigrdrifa's slumber break the son of warriors,[66] against the Norns' decrees. Sigurd rode along Fafnir's track to his lair, which he found open. The doors and door-posts were of iron; of iron also were all the beams in the house; but the treasure was buried in the earth. Sigurd found there a great quantity of gold, and filled two chests with it. He took thence the Oegis-helm, a golden corslet, the sword named Hrotti, and many precious things, all which he laid on Grani; but the horse would not proceed until Sigurd had mounted on his back. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 63: I.e., Sigurd; a transition from the 3d person to the 2nd.] [Footnote 64: Another periphrasis for gold.] [Footnote 65: A periphrasis for fire.] [Footnote 66: Of Skioldungs.] THE LAY OF SIGRDRIFA. Sigurd rode up the Hindarfiall, and directed his course southwards towards Frankland. In the fell he saw a great light, as if a fire were burning, which blazed up to the sky. On approaching it, there stood a "skialdborg," and over it a banner. Sigurd went into the skialdborg, and saw a warrior lying within it asleep, completely armed. He first took the helmet off the warrior's head, and saw that it was a woman. Her corslet was as fast as if it had grown to her body. With his sword Gram he ripped the corslet from the upper opening downwards, and then through both sleeves. He then took the corslet off from her, when she awoke, sat up and, on seeing Sigurd, said: 1. What has my corslet cut? why from sleep have I started? who has cast from me the fallow bands? _Sigurd_. Sigmund's son has just now ript the raven's perch,[67] with Sigurd's sword. _She_. 2. Long have I slept, long been with sleep oppressed, long are mortals' sufferings! Odin is the cause that I have been unable to cast off torpor. Sigurd sat down and asked her name. She then took a horn filled with mead, and gave him the _minnis-cup_. _She_. 3. Hail to Day! Hail to the sons of Day! To Night and her daughter hail! With placid eyes behold us here, and here sitting give us victory. 4. Hail to the Æsir! Hail to the Asyniur! Hail to the bounteous earth! Words and wisdom give to us noble twain, and healing hands[68] while we live. She was named Sigrdrifa, and was a Valkyria. She said that two kings had made war on each other, one of whom was named Hialmgunnar; he was old and a great warrior, and Odin had promised him victory. The other was Agnar, a brother of Hoda, whom no divinity would patronize. Sigrdrifa overcame Hialmgunnar in battle; in revenge for which Odin pricked her with a sleep-thorn, and declared that henceforth she should never have victory in battle, and should be given in marriage. "But I said to him, that I had bound myself by a vow not to espouse any man who could be made to fear." Sigurd answers, and implores her to teach him wisdom, as she had intelligence from all regions: _Sigrdrifa_. 5. Beer I bear to thee, column[69] of battle! with might mingled, and with bright glory: 'tis full of song, and salutary saws, of potent incantations, and joyous discourses. 6. Sig-runes thou must know, if victory (sigr) thou wilt have, and on thy sword's hilt grave them; some on the chapes, some on the guard, and twice name the name of Ty. 7. Ol- (beer-) runes thou must know, if thou wilt not that another's wife thy trust betray, if thou in her confide. On the horn must they be graven, and on the hand's back, and Naud[70] on the nail be scored. 8. A cup must be blessed, and against peril guarded, and garlick in the liquor cast: then I know thou wilt never have mead with treachery mingled. 9. Biarg- (help-) runes thou must know, if thou wilt help, and loose the child from women. In the palm they must be graven, and round the joints be clasped, and the Disir prayed for aid. 10. Brim- (sea-) runes thou must know, if thou wilt have secure afloat thy sailing steeds. On the prow they must be graven, and on the helm-blade, and with fire to the oar applied. No surge shall be so towering, nor waves so dark, but from the ocean thou safe shalt come. 11. Lim- (branch-) runes thou must know, if thou a leech wouldst be, and wounds know how to heal. On the bark they must be graven, and on the leaves of trees, of those whose boughs bent eastward. 12. Mal- (speech-) runes thou must know, if thou wilt that no one for injury with hate requite thee. Those thou must wind, those thou must wrap round, those thou must altogether place in the assembly, where people have into full court to go. 13. Hug- (thought-) runes thou must know, if thou a wiser man wilt be than every other. Those interpreted, those graved, those devised Hropt, from the fluid, which had leaked from Heiddraupnir's head, and from Hoddropnir's horn. 14. On a rock he stood, with edged sword, a helm on his head he bore. Then spake Mim's head its first wise word, and true sayings uttered. 15. They are, it said, on the shield graven, which stands before the shining god, on Arvakr's ear, and on Alsvid's hoof, on the wheel which rolls under Rognir's car, on Sleipnir's teeth, and on the sledge's bands. 16. On the bear's paw, and on Bragi's tongue, on the wolf's claws, and the eagle's beak, on bloody wings, and on the bridge's end, on the releasing hand, and on healing's track. 17. On glass and on gold, on amulets of men, in wine and in wort, and in the welcome seat, on Gungnir's point, and on Grani's breast, on the Norn's nail, and the owl's neb. 18. All were erased that were inscribed, and mingled with the sacred mead, and sent on distant ways: they are with the Æsir, they are with the Alfar, some with the wise Vanir, some human beings have. 19. Those are bok-runes,[71] those are biarg-runes, and all ol- (beer-) runes, and precious megin- (power-) runes, for those who can, without confusion or corruption, turn them to his welfare. Use, if thou hast understood them, until the powers perish. 20. Now thou shalt choose, since a choice is offered thee, keen armed warrior! my speech, or silence: think over it in thy mind. All evils[72] have their measure. _Sigurd_. 21. I will not flee, though thou shouldst know me doomed. I am not born a craven. Thy friendly counsels all I will receive, as long as life is in me. _Sigrdrifa_. 22. This I thee counsel first: that towards thy kin thou bear thee blameless. Take not hasty vengeance, although they raise up strife: that, it is said, benefits the dead. 23. This I thee counsel secondly: that no oath thou swear, if it be not true. Cruel bonds follow broken faith: accursed is the faith-breaker. 24. This I thee counsel thirdly: that in the assembly thou contend not with a fool; for an unwise man oft utters words worse than he knows of. 25. All is vain, if thou holdest silence; then wilt thou seem a craven born, or else truly accused. Doubtful is a servant's testimony, unless a good one thou gettest. On the next day let his life go forth, and so men's lies reward. 26. This I counsel thee fourthly: if a wicked sorceress dwells by the way, to go on is better than there to lodge, though night may overtake thee. 27. Of searching eyes the sons of men have need, when fiercely they have to fight: oft pernicious women by the way-side sit, who swords and valour deaden. 28. This I thee counsel fifthly: although thou see fair women on the benches sitting, let not their kindred's silver over thy sleep have power. To kiss thee entice no woman. 29. This I thee counsel sixthly: although among men pass offensive tipsy talk, never while drunken quarrel with men of war: wine steals the wits of many. 30. Brawls and drink to many men have been a heartfelt sorrow; to some their death, to some calamity: many are the griefs of men! 31. This I thee counsel seventhly: if thou hast disputes with a daring man, better it is for men to fight than to be burnt within their dwelling. 32. This I thee counsel eighthly: that thou guard thee against evil, and eschew deceit. Entice no maiden, nor wife of man, nor to wantonness incite. 33. This I thee counsel ninthly: that thou corpses bury, wherever on the earth thou findest them, whether from sickness they have died, or from the sea, or are from weapons dead. 34. Let a mound be raised for those departed; let their hands and head be washed, combed, and wiped dry, ere in the coffin they are laid: and pray for their happy sleep. 35. This I thee counsel tenthly: that thou never trust a foe's kinsman's promises, whose brother thou hast slain, or sire laid low. there is a wolf in a young son, though he with gold be gladdened. 36. Strifes and fierce enmities think not to be lulled, no more than deadly injury. Wisdom and fame in arms a prince not easily acquires, who shall of men be foremost. 37. This I counsel thee eleventhly: that thou at evil look, what course it may take. A long life, it seems to me the prince may [not] enjoy;--fierce disputes will arise. Sigurd said: "A wiser mortal exists not, and I swear that I will possess thee, for thou art after my heart." She answered: "Thee I will have before all others, though I have to choose among all men." And this they confirmed with oaths to each other. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 67: The original words, hrafns hrælundir, _the raven's corpse-trees._ So Grimm understands the line; because that bird hops about upon the armour as upon a tree.] [Footnote 68: The superstition of the _healing hand_ is not yet extinct in Iceland. Dr. Maurer relates a story of a man in Reykjavik to whom it would seem to have been communicated by an elfin, in a dream.] [Footnote 69: Literally _apple-tree_.] [Footnote 70: The name of a rune.] [Footnote 71: Literally beech- (book-) runes, from being used for book writing or graving on thin leaves of beech (bok), whence our _book_. Bok also signifies _acupictile_, vel _acupictum (velum, auloeum_).] [Footnote 72: An allusion to Sigurd's unhappy end.] FRAGMENTS OF THE LAY OF SIGURD AND BRYNHILD.[73] [Sigurd then rides away from Hindarfiall, and journeys on till he comes to the habitation of Heimir, who was married to Beckhild, Brynhild's sister. Alsvid, Heimir's son, who was at play when Sigurd arrived at the mansion, received him kindly, and requested him to stay with him. Sigurd consented, and remained there a short time. Brynhild was at that time with Heimir, and was weaving within a gold border the great exploits of Sigurd. One day, when Sigurd was come from the forest, his hawk flew to the window at which Brynhild sat employed on weaving. Sigurd ran after it, saw the lady, and appeared struck with her handiwork and beauty. On the following day Sigurd went to her apartment, and Alsvid stood outside the door shafting arrows. Sigurd said: "Hail to thee, lady!" or "How fares it with thee?" She answered: "We are well, my kindred and friends are living, but it is uncertain what any one's lot may be till their last day." He sat down by her. Brynhild said: "This seat will be allowed to few, unless my father comes." Sigurd answered: "Now is that come to pass which thou didst promise me." She said: "Here shalt thou be welcome." She then arose, and her four maidens with her, and, approaching him with a golden cup, bade him drink. He reached towards her and took hold of her hand together with the cup, and placed her by him, clasped her round the neck, kissed her, and said: "A fairer than thou was never born." She said: "It is not wise to place faith in women, for they so often break their promise." He said: "Better days will come upon us, so that we may enjoy happiness," Brynhild said: "It is not ordained that we shall live together, for I am a shield-maiden (skjaldmær)." Sigurd said: "Then will our happiness be best promoted, if we live together; for harder to endure is the pain which herein lies than from a keen weapon." Brynhild said: "I shall be called to the aid of warriors, but thou wilt espouse Gudrun, Giuki's daughter." Sigurd said: "No king's daughter shall ensnare me, therefore have not two thoughts on that subject; and I swear by the gods that I will possess thee and no other woman." She answered to the same effect. Sigurd thanked her for what she had said to him, and gave her a gold ring. He remained there a short time in great favour. Sigurd now rode from Heimir's dwelling with much gold, until he came to the palace of King Giuki, whose wife was named Grimhild. They had three sons, Gunnar, Hogni, and Guthorm. Gudrun was the name of their daughter. King Giuki entreated Sigurd to stay there, and there he remained a while. All appeared low by the side of Sigurd. One evening the sorceress Grimhild rose and presented a horn to Sigurd, saying: "Joyful for us is thy presence, and we desire that all good may befall thee. Take this horn and drink." He took it and drank, and with that drink forgot both his love and his vows to Brynhild. After that, Grimhild so fascinated him that he was induced to espouse Gudrun, and all pledged their faith to Sigurd, and confirmed it by oaths. Sigurd gave Gudrun to eat of Fafnir's heart, and she became afterwards far more austere than before. Their son was named Sigmund. Grimhild now counselled her son Gunnar to woo Brynhild, and consulted with Sigurd, in consequence of this design. Brynhild had vowed to wed that man only who should ride over the blazing fire that was laid around her hall. They found the hall and the fire burning around it. Gunnar rode Goti, and Hogni Holknir. Gunnar turns his horse towards the fire, but it shrinks back. Sigurd said: "Why dost thou shrink back, Gunnar?" Gunnar answers: "My horse will not leap this fire," and prays Sigurd to lend him Grani. "He is at thy service," said Sigurd. Gunnar now rides again towards the fire, but Grani will not go over. They then changed forms. Sigurd rides, having in his hand the sword Gram, and golden spurs on his heels. Grani runs forward to the fire when he feels the spur. There was now a great noise, as it is said: 1. The fire began to rage, and the earth to tremble, high rose the flame to heaven itself: there ventured few chiefs of people through that fire to ride, or to leap over. 2. Sigurd Grani with his word urged, the fire was quenched before the prince, the flame allayed before the glory-seeker with the bright saddle that Rok had owned. Brynhild was sitting in a chair as Sigurd entered. She asks who he is, and he calls himself Gunnar Giuki's son. "And thou art destined to be my wife with thy father's consent. I have ridden through the flickering flame (vafrlogi) at thy requisition." She said: "I know not well how I shall answer this." Sigurd stood erect on the floor resting on the hilt of his sword. She rose embarrassed from her seat, like a swan on the waves, having a sword in her hand, a helmet on her head, and wearing a corslet. "Gunnar," said she, "speak not so to me, unless thou art the foremost of men; and then thou must slay him who has sought me, if thou hast so much trust in thyself." Sigurd said: "Remember now thy promise, that thou wouldst go with that man who should ride through the flickering flame." She acknowledged the truth of his words, stood up, and gave him a glad welcome. He tarried there three nights, and they prepared one bed. He took the sword Gram and laid it between them. She inquired why he did so. He said that it was enjoined him so to act towards his bride on their marriage, or he would receive his death. He then took from her the ring called Andvaranaut, and gave her another that had belonged to Fafnir. After this he rode away through the same fire to his companions, when Gunnar and he again changed forms, and they then rode home. Brynhild related this in confidence to her foster-father Heimir, and said: "A king named Gunnar has ridden through the flickering flame, and is come to speak with me; but I told him that Sigurd alone might so do, to whom I gave my vow at Hindarfiall, and that he only was the man." Heimir said that what had happened must remain as it was. Brynhild said: "Our daughter Aslaug thou shalt rear up here with thee." Brynhild then went to her father, King Budli, and he with his daughter Brynhild went to King Giuki's palace. A great feasting was afterwards held, when Sigurd remembered all his oaths to Brynhild, and yet kept silence. Brynhild and Gunnar sat at the drinking and drank wine. One day Brynhild and Gudrun went to the river Rhine, and Brynhild went farther out into the water. Gudrun asked why she did so? Brynhild answered: "Why shall I go on along with thee in this more than in anything else?" "I presume that my father was more potent than thine, and my husband has performed more valorous deeds, and ridden through the blazing fire. Thy husband was King Hialprek's thrall." Gudrun answered angrily: "Thou shouldst be wiser than to venture to vilify my husband, as it is the talk of all that no one like to him in every respect has ever come into the world; nor does it become thee to vilify him, as he was thy former husband, and slew Fafnir, and rode through the fire, whom thou thoughtest was King Gunnar; and he lay with thee, and took from thee the ring Andvaranaut, and here mayest thou recognize it." Brynhild then looking at the ring, recognized it, and turned pale as though she were dead. Brynhild was very taciturn that evening, and Gudrun asked Sigurd why Brynhild was so taciturn. He dissuaded her much from making this inquiry, and said that at all events it would soon be known. On the morrow, when sitting in their apartment, Gudrun said: "Be cheerful, Brynhild! What is it that prevents thy mirth?" Brynhild answered: "Malice drives thee to this; for thou hast a cruel heart." "Judge not so," said Gudrun. Brynhild continued: "Ask about that only which is better for thee to know; that is more befitting women of high degree. It is good, too, for thee to be content, as all goes according to thy wishes." Gudrun said: "It is premature to glory in that: this forebodes something; but what instigates thee against us?" Brynhild answered: "Thou shalt be requited for having espoused Sigurd; for I grudge thee the possession of him." Gudrun said: "We knew not of your secret." Brynhild answered: "We have had no secret, though we have sworn oaths of fidelity; and thou knowest that I have been deceived, and I will avenge it." Gudrun said: "Thou art better married than thou deservest to be, and thy violence must be cooled." "Content should I be," said Brynhild, "didst thou not possess a more renowned husband than I." Gudrun answered: "Thou hast as renowned a husband; for it is doubtful which is the greater king." Brynhild said: "Sigurd overcame Fafnir, and that is worth more than all Gunnar's kingdom, as it is said: "Sigurd the serpent slew, and that henceforth shall be by none forgotten, while mankind lives: but thy brother neither dared through the fire to ride, nor over it to leap." Gudrun said: "Grani would not run through the fire under King Gunnar: but he [Gunnar] dared to ride." Brynhild said: "Let us not contend: I bear no good will to Grimhild." Gudrun said: "Blame her not; for she is towards thee as to her own daughter." Brynhild said: "She is the cause of all the evil which gnaws me. She presented to Sigurd the pernicious drink, so that he no more remembered me." Gudrun said: "Many an unjust word thou utterest, and this is a great falsehood." Brynhild said: "So enjoy Sigurd as thou hast not deceived me, and may it go with thee as I imagine." Gudrun said: "Better shall I enjoy him than thou wilt wish; and no one has said he has had too much good with me at any time." Brynhild said: "Thou sayest ill and wilt repent of it. Let us cease from angry words, and not indulge in useless prattle. Long have I borne in silence the grief that dwells in my breast: I have also felt regard for thy brother. But let us talk of other things." Gudrun said: "Your imagination looks far forward." Brynhild then lay in bed, and King Gunnar came to talk with her, and begged her to rise and give vent to her sorrow; but she would not listen to him. They then brought Sigurd to visit her and learn whether her grief might not be alleviated. They called to memory their oaths, and how they had been deceived, and at length Sigurd offered to marry her and put away Gudrun; but she would not hear of it. Sigurd left the apartment, but was so greatly affected by her sorrow that the rings of his corslet burst asunder from his sides, as is said in the Sigurdarkvida: "Out went Sigurd from that interview into the hall of kings, writhing with anguish; so that began to start the ardent warrior's iron-woven sark off from his sides." Brynhild afterwards instigated Gunnar to murder Sigurd, saying that he had deceived them both and broken his oath. Gunnar consulted with Hogni, and revealed to him this conversation. Hogni earnestly strove to dissuade him from such a deed, on account of their oaths. Gunnar removed the difficulty, saying: "Let us instigate our brother Guthorm; he is young and of little judgment, and is, moreover, free of all oaths; and so avenge the mortal injury of his having seduced Brynhild." They then took a serpent and the flesh of a wolf, and had them cooked, and gave them to him to eat, and offered him gold and a large realm, to do the deed, as is said: "The forest-fish they roasted, and the wolf's carcase took, while some to Guthorm dealt out gold; gave him Geri's[74] flesh with his drink, and many other things steeped therein." With this food he became so furious, that he would instantly perpetrate the deed. On this it is related as in the Sigurdarkvida, when Gunnar and Brynhild conversed together.] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 73: These fragments from the Volsunga-Saga, which are inserted in some paper manuscripts of the Edda, and containing matter probably derived from the lost poems relative to Sigurd and Brynhild, are printed in the Stockholm edition of the Edda. They are also given by Afzelius in his Swedish version, and partially in Danish by Finn Magnusen in his edition. A complete translation into Danish of the entire Saga has since been given, by Prof. Rafn at Copenhagen.] [Footnote 74: The name of one of Odin's wolves; here used poetically for _wolf_ in general.] THE THIRD LAY OF SIGURD FAFNICIDE. 1. It was of old that Sigurd, the young Volsung, Giuki sought, after his conflict, received the pledge of friendship from the two brothers; oaths exchanged the bold of deed. 2. A maid they offered him, and treasures many, Gudrun, Giuki's youthful daughter. Drank and conversed, many days together, Sigurd the young and Giuki's sons. 3. Until they went to woo Brynhild, and with them Sigurd, the youthful Volsung, rode in company, who knew the way. He would have possessed her, if her possess he might. 4. Sigurd the southern laid a naked sword, a glittering falchion, between them; nor the damsel did he kiss, nor did the Hunnish king to his arm lift her. He the blooming maid to Giuki's son delivered. 5. She to herself of body was of no sin conscious, nor at her death-day, of any crime, that could be a stain, or thought to be: intervened therein the grisly fates. 6. Alone she sat without, at eve of day, began aloud with herself to speak: "Sigurd must be mine; I must die, or that blooming youth clasp in my arms." 7. "Of the words I have uttered I now repent; he is Gudrun's consort, and I am Gunnar's. The hateful Norns long suffering have decreed us." 8. Oftentimes she wandered, filled with evil thoughts, o'er ice and icebergs, every eve, when he and Gudrun had to their couch withdrawn, and Sigurd her in the coverings wrapt, the Hunnish king his wife caressed. 9. "Devoid I go of spouse and pleasure; I will beguile myself with vengeful thoughts." 10. By those fits of fury she was impelled to murder. "Thou, Gunnar! shalt wholly lose my land, and myself also. Never shall I be happy, king! with thee. 11. I will return thither from whence I came, to my near kindred, my relations; there will I remain, and slumber life away, unless thou Sigurd cause to be slain, and a king become than the other greater. 12. Let the son go together with the father, the young wolf may not longer be fostered. For whom will vengeance be the easier to appease, if the son lives?" 13. Wroth was Gunnar, and with grief borne down; in his mind revolved, sat the whole day; he knew not well, nor could devise, what were most desirable for him to do, or were most fitting to be done, when he should find himself of the Volsung bereft, and in Sigurd a great loss sustain. 14. Much he thought, and also long, that it did not often happen, that from their royal state women withdrew. Hogni he then to counsel summoned, in whom he placed the fullest trust. 15. "Of all to me Brynhild, Budli's daughter, is the dearest; she is the chief of women: rather will I my life lay down than that fair one's treasures lose. 16. "Wilt thou the prince for his wealth circumvent? good 'tis to command the ore of Rhine, and at ease over riches rule, and in tranquillity happiness enjoy." 17. This alone Hogni for answer gave: "It beseems us not so to do, by the sword to break sworn oaths, oaths sworn, and plighted faith. 18. "We know not on earth men more fortunate, while we four over the people rule, and the Hun lives, that warlike chief; nor on earth, a race more excellent, if we five sons long shall foster, and the good progeny can increase. 19. I know full well whence the causes spring: Brynhild's importunity is over-great. 20. We will Guthorm, our younger brother, and not over-wise, for the deed prepare: he is free from sworn oaths, sworn oaths, and plighted faith." 21. Easy it was to instigate the ferocious spirit: in the heart of Sigurd stood his sword. 22. On vengeance bent, the warrior in his chamber hurled his brand after the fierce assassin; to Guthorm flew dartlike Gram's gleaming steel from the king's hand. 23. Fell the murderer in two parts, arms and head flew far away, but his feet's part fell backwards on the place. 24. Sunk in sleep was Gudrun, in her bed, void of cares, by Sigurd's side: but she awoke of joys bereft, when in the blood of Frey's friend she swam. 25. So violently struck she her hands together, that the stout of heart rose in his bed. "Weep not, Gudrun! so cruelly, my blooming bride! thy brothers live. 26. An heir I have, alas! too young; he cannot flee from the hostile house; among themselves they recently have dark and evil counsels devised. 27. Never henceforth, although seven thou bear, will such a son to the trysting with them ride. Full well I know how this has befallen: Brynhild the sole cause is of all the evil. 28. Me the maiden loved more than any man; but towards Gunnar I sinned not; affinity I held sacred, and sworn oaths; thence forward I was called his consort's friend." 29. The woman gave forth sighs, and the king his life. So violently she struck her hands together, that the beakers on the wall responsive rang, and in the court the geese loudly screamed. 30. Laughed then Brynhild, Budli's daughter, once only, from her whole soul, when in her bed she listened to the loud lament of Giuki's daughter. 31. Then said Gunnar, the hawk-bearing prince: "Laugh not thereat, thou barbarous woman! glad on thy couch, as if good awaited thee. Why hast thou lost that beauteous colour? authoress of crime! Methinks to death thou art doomed. 32. Well dost thou deserve, above all women, that before thy eyes, we should lay Atli low, that thou shouldst see thy brother's blood-streaming sore, his gory wounds shouldst have to bind." 33. Then said Brynhild, Budli's daughter: "No one provokes thee, Gunnar! complete is thy work of death. Little does Atli thy hatred fear; his life will outlast thine, and his might be ever greater. 34. Gunnar! will tell thee, though thou well knowest it, how early we resolved on crimes. I was o'er-young and unrestrained, with wealth endowed, in my brother's house. 35. Nor did I desire to marry any man, before ye Giukungs rode to our dwelling, three on horseback, powerful kings: would that journey had never been! 36. Then myself I promised to the great king, who with gold sat on Grani's back. In eyes he did not you resemble, nor was at all in aspect like: yet ye thought yourselves mighty kings. 37. And to me apart Atli said, that he would not have our heritage divided, nor gold nor lands, unless I let myself be married, nor grant me any part of the acquired gold, which he to me a girl had given to possess, and to me a child in moneys counted. 38. Then distracted was my mind thereon, whether I should engage in conflict, and death dispense, valiant in arms, for my brother's quarrel. That would then be world-widely known, and to many a one bring heartfelt anguish. 39. Our reconciliation we let follow: to me it had been more pleasing the treasures to accept, the red-gold rings of Sigmund's son: nor did I another's gold desire; him alone I loved, none other. Menskogul[75] had not a changing mind. 40. All this will Atli hereafter find, when he shall hear of my funeral rites completed; for never shall the heavy-hearted woman with another's husband pass her life. Then will my wrongs be all avenged." 41. Up rose Gunnar, prince of warriors, and round his consort's neck laid his hands; all drew nigh, yet each one singly, through honest feeling, to dissuade her. 42. She from her neck those about her cast; she let no one stay her from her long journey. 43. He then called Hogni to consultation. "I will that all our folk to the hall be summoned, thine with, mine--now 'tis most needful--to see if we can hinder my consort's fatal course, till from our speech a hindrance may come: then let us leave necessity to rule." 44. To him Hogni answer gave: "Let no one hinder her from the long journey, whence may she never born again return. Unblest she came on her mother's lap, born in the world for ceaseless misery, for many a man's heartfelt sorrow." 45. Downcast he from the meeting turned to where the lady treasures distributed. She was viewing all she owned: hungry female thralls and chamber-women. She put on her golden corslet--no good meditated--ere herself she pierced, with the sword's point. 46. On the pillow she turned to the other side, and, wounded with the glave, on her last counsels thought. 47. "Now let come those who desire gold, and aught less precious, to receive from me. To every one I give a gilded necklace,[76] needle-work and coverlets, splendid weeds." 48. All were silent, thought on what to do, and all together answer gave: "Too many are there dead: we will yet live, still be hungry hall-servants, to do what fitting is." 49. At length after reflection, the lady linen-clad, young in years, words in answer uttered: "I desire that none, dead to entreaty, should by force, for our sake, lose their life. 50. Yet o'er your bones will burn fewer ornaments, Menia's good meal,[77] when ye go hence me to seek. 51. Gunnar! sit down, I will tell to thee, that of life now hopeless is thy bright consort. Thy vessel will not be always afloat, though I shall have my life resigned. 52. With Gudrun thou wilt be reconciled, sooner than thou thinkest: that wise woman has by the king sad memorials, after her consort's death. 53. There is born a maid, which her mother rears; brighter far than the clear day, than the sun's beam, will Svanhild be. 54. Gudrun thou wilt give to an illustrious one, a warrior, the bane of many men: not to her wish will she be married; Atli will come her to espouse, Budli's son, my brother. 55. Much have I in memory how I was treated, when ye me so cruelly had deceived: robbed I was of happiness, while my life lasted. 56. Thou wilt desire Oddrun to possess, but Atli will permit it not; in secret ye will each other meet. She will love thee, as I had done, if us a better fate had been allotted. 57. Thee will Atli barbarously treat; in the narrow serpent-den wilt thou be cast. 58. It will too come to pass, not long after, that Atli will his soul resign, his prosperity, and cease to live; for Gudrun in her vengeance him in his bed will slay, through bitterness of spirit, with the sword's sharp edge. 59. More seemly would appear our sister Gudrun, had she in death her first consort followed, had but good counsel been to her given, or she a soul possessed resembling mine-- 60. Faintly I now speak--but for our sake she will not lose her life. She will be borne on towering billows to King Jonakr's paternal soil. Doubts will be in the resolves of Jonakr's sons. 61. She will Svanhild send from the land, her daughter, and Sigurd's. Her will destroy Bikki's counsel; for Jormunrek for evil lives. Then will have passed away all Sigurd's race, and Gudrun's tears will be the more. 62. One prayer I have to thee yet to make, in this world 'twill be my last request: Let in the plain be raised a pile so spacious, that for us all like room may be, for those who shall have died with Sigurd. 63. Bedeck the pile about with shields and hangings, a variegated corpse-cloth, and multitude of slain. Let them burn the Hun[78] on the one side of me; 64. Let them with the Hun burn on the other side, my household slaves, with collars splendid, two at our heads, and two hawks; then will all be equally distributed. 65. Let also lie between us both the sword with rings adorned, the keen-edged iron, so again be placed, as when we both one couch ascended, and were then called by the name of consorts. 66. Then will not clang against his heel the hall's bright gates, with splendid ring, if my train him hence shall follow. Then will our procession appear not mean. 67. For him will follow five female thralls, eight male slaves of gentle birth, fostered with me, and with my patrimony, which to his, daughter Budli gave. 68. Much I have said, and more would say, if the sword would grant me power of speech. My voice fails, my wounds swell: truth only I have uttered; so I will cease." FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 75: That is, Skogul with the necklace; Brynhild applies this name to herself, which is a compound of men, _necklace, monile_, and Skogul, the name of a Valkyria.] [Footnote 76: Necklaces usually consisted in gold and silver chains or laces with ornaments attached to them; if these resembled the sun or moon they were called Sigli, _suns_ (such were those here spoken of); and such was the necklace worn by Freyia, the bright goddess of the Vanir.] [Footnote 77: Menia's meal, or flour, is gold.] [Footnote 78: Sigurd.] FRAGMENTS OF THE LAY OF BRYNHILD. _Gunnar_. 1. "Why art thou, Brynhild! Budli's daughter! absorbed in evil and murderous thoughts? What injury has Sigurd done thee, that thou the hero wilt of life bereave?" _Brynhild_. 2. "Sigurd to me oaths has sworn, oaths sworn, all falsehoods. He at a time deceived me when he should have been of all oaths most observant." _Hogni_. 3. "Thee Brynhild has in anger instigated evil to perpetrate, harm to execute. She grudges Gudrun her happy marriage, and thee, possession of herself." * * * 4. Some a wolf roasted, some a snake cut up, some to Guthorm served the wolf, before they might, eager for crime, on the mighty man lay their hands. 5. Without stood Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, and these words first of all uttered: "Where is now Sigurd, lord of warriors, seeing that my kinsmen foremost ride?" 6. Hogni alone to her answer gave: "Asunder have we Sigurd hewed with our swords; his grey steed bends o'er the dead chief." 7. Then said Brynhild, Budli's daughter: "Well shall ye now enjoy arms and lands. Sigurd would alone over all have ruled, had he a little longer life retained. 8. Unseemly it had been that he should so have ruled over Giuki's heritage and the Goths' people, when he five sons, for the fall of hosts, eager for warfare, had begotten." 9. Then laughed Brynhild--the whole burgh resounded--once only from her whole heart: "Well shall ye enjoy lands and subjects, now the daring king ye have caused to fall." 10. Then said Gudrun, Giuki's daughter: "Much thou speakest, things most atrocious: may fiends have Gunnar, Sigurd's murderer! Souls malevolent vengeance awaits." 11. Sigurd had fallen south of Rhine: loud from a tree a raven screamed: "With your blood will Atli his sword's edges redden; the oaths ye have sworn your slaughter shall dissolve." 12. Evening was advanced, much was drunken, then did pleasant talk of all kinds pass: all sank in sleep, when to rest they went. Gunnar alone was wakeful longer than all: 13. He began his foot to move, and much with himself to speak; the warlike chief in his mind pondered, what during the conflict the raven and the eagle were ever saying, as they rode home. 14. Brynhild awoke, Budli's daughter, daughter of Skioldungs, a little ere day: "Urge me or stay me--the mischief is perpetrated--my sorrow to pour forth, or to suppress it." 15. All were silent at these words; few understood the lady's conduct, that weeping she should begin to speak of what she laughing had desired. 16. "In my dream, Gunnar! all seemed so horrid, in the chamber all was dead; my bed was cold; and thou, king! wast riding of joy bereft, with fetters loaded, to a hostile host. So will ye all, race of Niflungs! be of power deprived, perjurers as ye are! 17. Ill Gunnar! didst thou remember, when blood ye in your footsteps both let flow; now hast thou him ill for all that requited, because he would prove himself foremost. 18. Then was it proved, when the hero had ridden to see me, to woo me, how the warlike chief whilom held sacred his oath towards the youthful prince. 19. Laid his sword, with gold adorned, the illustrious king between us both: outward its edges were with fire wrought, but with venom drops tempered within." From this lay, in which the death of Sigurd is related, it appears that he was slain without doors, while some relate that he was slain sleeping in his bed: but the Germans say he was slain out in the forest; and it is told in the "Gudrunarkvida hin Forna," that Sigurd and the sons of Giuki had ridden to the public assembly (thing) when he was slain. But it is said by all, without exception, that they broke faith with him, and attacked him while lying down and unprepared. THE FIRST LAY OF GUDRUN. Gudrun sat over Sigurd dead; she wept not as other women, although ready to burst with sorrow. Both men and women, came to console her, but that was not easy. It is said by some that Gudrun had eaten of Fafnir's heart, and therefore understood the talk of birds. This is also sung of Gudrun: 1. Of old it was that Gudrun prepared to die, when she sorrowing over Sigurd sat. No sigh she uttered, nor with her hands beat, nor wailed, as other women. 2. Jarls came forward of great sagacity, from her sad state of mind to divert her. Gudrun could not shed a tear, such was her affliction; ready she was to burst. 3. Sat there noble wives of jarls, adorned with gold, before Gudrun; each of them told her sorrows, the bitterest she had known. 4. Then said Giaflaug, Giuki's sister: "I know myself to be on earth most joyless: of five consorts I the loss have suffered; of two daughters, sisters three, and brothers eight; I alone live." 5. Gudrun could not shed a tear, such was her affliction for her dead consort, and her soul's anguish for the king's fall. 6. Then said Herborg, Hunaland's queen: "I a more cruel grief have to recount: my seven sons, in the south land, my spouse the eighth, in conflict fell. 7. My father and my mother, my brothers four, on the sea the wind deluded; the waves struck on the ship's timbers. 8. Their last honours 'twas mine to pay, 'twas mine to see them tombed, their funeral rites to prepare was mine. All this I underwent in one half-year, and to me no one consolation offered. 9. Then I became a captive, taken in war, at the close of the same half-year. Then had I to adorn, and tie the shoes, of the Hersir's wife, each morn. 10. From jealousy she threatened me, and with hard blows drove me: nowhere master found I a better, but mistress no where a worse." 11. Gudrun could not shed a tear, such was her affliction for her dead consort, and her soul's anguish for the king's fall. 12. Then said Gullrond, Giuki's daughter: "Little canst thou, my fosterer, wise as thou art, with a young wife fittingly talk." The king's body she forbade to be longer hidden. 13. She snatched the sheet from Sigurd's corpse, and turned his cheek towards his wife's knees: "Behold thy loved one, lay thy mouth to his lip, as if thou wouldst embrace the living prince." 14. Gudrun upon him cast one look: she saw the prince's locks dripping with blood, the chief's sparkling eyes closed in death, his kingly breast cleft by the sword. 15. Then sank down Gudrun back on her pillow, her head-gear was loosed, her cheeks grew red, and a flood of tears fell to her knees. 16. Then wept Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, so that the tears spontaneously flowed, and at the same time screamed the geese in the court, the noble birds, which the lady owned. 17. Then spake Gullrond, Giuki's daughter: "Your loves I know were the most ardent among living beings upon earth: thou hadst delight nowhere, sister mine! save with Sigurd." 18. Then said Gudrun, Giuki's daughter: "Such was my Sigurd among Giuki's sons, as is the garlick out from the grass which grows, or a bright stone on a thread drawn, a precious gem on kings. 19. I also seemed to the prince's warriors higher than any of Herian's Disir; now I am as little as the leaf oft is in the storm-winds, after the chieftain's death. 20. Sitting I miss, and in my bed, my dearest friend. Giuki's sons have caused, Giuki's sons have caused my affliction, and their sister's tears of anguish. 21. So ye desolate the people's land, as ye have kept your sworn oaths. Gunnar! thou wilt not the gold enjoy; those rings will be thy bane, for the oaths thou to Sigurd gavest. 22. Oft in the mansion was the greater mirth, when my Sigurd Grani saddled, and Brynhild they went to woo, that which accursed, in an evil hour!" 23. Then said Brynhild, Budli's daughter: "May the hag lack spouse and children, who thee, Gudrun! has caused to weep, and this morning given thee runes of speech!"[79] 24. Then said Gullrond, Giuki's daughter: "Cease, thou loathed of all! from those words. The evil destiny of princes thou hast ever been; thee every billow drives of an evil nature; thou sore affliction of seven kings, the greatest bane of friendship among women!" 25. Then said Brynhild, Budli's daughter: "Atli my brother, Budli's offspring, is the sole cause of all the evil; 26. When in the hall of the Hunnish folk, with the king we beheld the fire of the serpent's bed.[80] Of that journey, I have paid the penalty, that sight I have ever rued." 27. She by a column stood, the wood violently clasped. From the eyes of Brynhild, Budli's daughter, fire gleamed forth; venom she snorted, when she beheld the wounds of Sigurd. Gudrun then went away to the forest and deserts, and travelled to Denmark, where she stayed seven half-years with Thora, Hakon's daughter. Brynhild would not outlive Sigurd. She caused her eight thralls and five female slaves to be killed, and then slew herself with a sword, as it is related in the "Sigurdarkvida in Skemma" (the Short Lay of Sigurd). FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 79: Power of speech.] [Footnote 80: A periphrasis for gold.] BRYNHILD'S HEL-RIDE. After Brynhild's death two piles were made, one for Sigurd, which was the first burnt; but Brynhild was burnt afterwards, and she was in a chariot, which was hung with precious tapestry; so that it was said that Brynhild drove in a chariot on the way to Hel, and passed through a place in which a giantess dwelt. The giantess said: 1. "Thou shalt not pass through my stone-supported dwelling place. Better had it beseemed thee to work broidery, than to seek after another's husband. 2. Why dost thou, vagrant woman! from Valland, my dwelling visit? Thou hast, golden dame! if thou desirest to know, gentle one! from thy hands washed human blood." _Brynhild_. 3. "Upbraid me not, woman of the rock! although I have in warfare been. Of us, I trow, I shall the better seem, wherever men our conditions know." _Giantess_. 4. "Thou, Brynhild! Budli's daughter! wast in evil hour born in the world; thou hast been the bane of Giuki's children, and their happy house subverted." _Brynhild_. 5. "From my chariot I will truly tell thee, thou witless crone! if thou desirest to know, how Giuki's heirs made me both lovelorn and perjured. 6. The bold-hearted king[81] caused the garbs of us eight sisters under an oak to be borne. Twelve years old was I, if thou desirest to know, when to the youthful king oaths I gave. 7. By all in Hlymdalir I was called Hild with the helm, by all who knew me. 8. Then caused I next, in the Gothic realm, the old Hialmgunnar to Hel to journey: I gave victory to the youthful brother of Oda, whereat Odin became hostile to me. 9. He with shields encompassed me, red and white, in Skatalund; their surfaces enclosed me; him he ordained my sleep to break, who in no place could be made to fear. 10. He made around my hall, towards the south, towering burn the destroyer of all wood: then bade that man only over it to ride, who me the gold should bring, that under Fafnir lay. 11. On Grani rode the chief, the gold-disperser, to where my foster-father ruled o'er the dwellings. He alone seemed there to all superior, the Danish warrior, of the court. 12. We slept and were content in the same bed, as if he had my born brother been; neither of us might on the other, for eight nights, lay a hand. 13. Reproached me Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, that I had slept in Sigurd's arms; then was I made aware of what I fain would not,--that they had deceived me, when a mate I took. 14. To calamities all too lasting men and women, ever will be while living born. We two shall now, Sigurd and I pass our life together. Sink thou of giant-kind!" FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 81: By depriving them of the swan-plumage, for they were Valkyriur like the wives of Volund and his brothers, Agnar reduced them under his subjection.] THE SLAUGHTER OF THE NIFLUNGS. Gunnar and Hogni then took all the gold, Fafnir's heritage. Dissension prevailed afterwards between the Giukungs and Atli. He charged them with being the cause of Brynhild's death. By way of reconciliation, it was agreed that they should give him Gudrun in marriage, to whom they administered an oblivious potion, before she would consent to espouse Atli. Atli had two sons, Erp and Eitil, but Svanhild was the daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun. King Atli invited Gunnar and Hogni to his residence, and sent to them Vingi, or Knefrod. Gudrun was aware of treachery, and sent them word in runes not to come; and to Hogni, as a token, she sent the ring Andvaranaut, in which she had tied some wolf's hair. Gunnar had sought the hand of Oddrun, Atli's sister, but did not obtain it. He then married Glaumvor, and Hogni took Kostbera to wife. Their sons were Solar, Snævar, and Giuki. When the Giukungs came to Atli, Gudrun besought his sons to intercede for their lives, but they would not. The heart of Hogni was cut out, and Gunnar was cast into a pen of serpents. He struck his harp and lulled the serpents, but an adder stung him to the liver. THE SECOND LAY OF GUDRUN. King Theodric was with Atli, and had there lost the greater number of his men. Theodric and Gudrun mutually bewailed their afflictions. She related to him and said: 1. A maid above all maids I was; my mother reared me bright in her bower; my brothers I much loved, until me Giuki, with gold adorned, with gold adorned, to Sigurd gave. 2. Such was Sigurd above Giuki's sons, as the green leek is, springing from the grass, or the high-limbed hart above the savage beasts, or gleed-red gold above grey silver. 3. Until my brothers the possession grudged me of a consort to all superior. They could not sleep, nor on affairs deliberate, before they Sigurd had caused to die. 4. Grani to the assembly ran, his tramp was to be heard; but Sigurd then himself came not. All the saddle-beasts were splashed with blood, and with sweating faint, from the murderers. 5. Weeping I went to talk to Grani, with humid cheeks, I prayed the steed to tell: then Grani shuddered, in the grass bowed down his head. The steed knew that his master was no more. 6. Long I wandered, long was my mind distracted, ere of the people's guardian I inquired for my king. 7. Gunnar hung his head, but Hogni told me of Sigurd's cruel death. "Beyond the river slaughtered lies Guthorm's murderer, and to the wolves given. 8. Yonder behold Sigurd, towards the south, there thou wilt hear the ravens croak, the eagles scream, in their feast exulting; the wolves howling round thy consort." 9. "Why wilt thou, Hogni! to a joyless being such miseries recount? May thy heart by ravens be torn and scattered over the wide world, rather than thou shouldst walk with men." 10. Hogni answered, for once cast down, from his cheerful mood by intense trouble: "Gudrun! thou wouldst have greater cause to weep, if the ravens should tear my heart." 11. Alone I turned from that interview to the wolves' scattered leavings. No sigh I uttered, nor with my hands beat, nor wailed, as other women, when I heartbroken sat by Sigurd. 12. Night seemed to me of blackest darkness, when I sorrowing sat by Sigurd. Better by far it seemed to me had the wolves taken my life, or I had been burnt as a birchen tree. 13. From the fell I journeyed five long days and nights, until the lofty hall of Half I recognized. Seven half-years I with Thora stayed, Hakon's daughter, in Denmark. 14. She for my solace wrought in gold southern halls, and Danish swans. 15. We had in pictures the game of warriors, and in handiworks a prince's nobles; red shields, Hunnish heroes, a sworded host, a helmed host, a prince's following. 16. Sigmund's ships from the land sailing, with gilded heads, and carved prows. We on our canvas wrought how Sigar and Siggeir both contended southward in Fyen. 17. When Grimhild, the Gothic woman, heard how greatly I was afflicted, she cast aside her needle-work, and her sons called oft and earnestly, that she might know, who for her son would their sister compensate, or for her consort slain the blood-fine pay? 18. Gunnar was ready gold to offer, for the injuries to atone, and Hogni also. * * * She then inquired who would go the steeds to saddle, the chariot to drive, on horseback ride, the hawk let fly, arrows shoot from the yew bow? 19. Valdar and the Danes with Jarizleif, Eymod the third with Jarizkar, then entered, to princes like. Red mantles had the Langbard's men, corslets ornamented, towering helms; girded they were with falchions, brown were their locks. 20. For me each one would choose precious gifts, precious gifts, and to my heart would speak, if for my many woes they might gain my confidence, and I would in them trust. 21. Grimhild to me brought a potion to drink cold and bitter, that I my injuries might forget; it was mingled with Urd's power, with cold sea-water, and with Son's blood. 22. In that horn were characters of every kind graven and red-hued; nor could I comprehend them: the long lyng-fish[82] of the Haddings' land, an uncut ear of corn: the wild-beasts' entrance. 23. In that potion were many ills together, a herb from every wood, and the acorn, the fire-stead's dew,[83] entrails of offerings, swine's liver seethed; for that deadens strife. 24. And then I forgot, when I had taken it, all the king's words in the hall spoken. There to my feet three kings came, before she herself sought to speak with me. 25. "Gudrun! I will give thee gold to possess, of all the riches much of thy dead father; rings of red gold, Hlodver's halls, all the hangings left by the fallen king. 26. Hunnish maids, those who weave tapestry, and in bright gold work, so that it may delight thee. Over Budli's wealth thou alone shalt rule, adorned with gold, and given to Atli." 27. "I will not have any man, nor Brynhild's brother marry: it beseems me not with Budli's son to increase a race, or life enjoy." 28. "Take care not to pay the chiefs with hate; for 'tis we who have been the aggressors: so shouldst thou act as if yet lived Sigurd and Sigmund, if sons thou bearest." 29. "Grimhild! I cannot in mirth indulge, nor, for my hero's sake, cherish a hope, since the bloodthirsty [wolf and] raven have together cruelly drunk my Sigurd's heart's blood." 30. "Him[84] of all I have found to be a king of noblest race, and in much most excellent: him shalt thou have until age lays thee low, or mateless be, if him thou wilt not take." 31. "Cease to offer that cup of ills so pertinaciously, that race to me: he will Gunnar's destruction perpetrate, and will cut out Hogni's heart. I will not cease until the exulting strife-exciter's life I shall have taken." 32. Weeping Grimhild caught the words, by which to her sons Gudrun foreboded evil, and to her kindred dire misfortunes. "Lands I will also give thee, people and followers, Vinbiorg and Valbiorg, if thou wilt accept them; for life possess them, and be happy, daughter!" 33. "Him then I will choose among the kings, and from my relatives reluctantly receive him. Never will he be to me a welcome consort, nor my brothers' bale a protection to our sons." 34. Forthwith on horseback was each warrior to be seen; but the Walish women were in chariots placed. For seven days o'er a cold land we rode; but the second seven, we beat the waves; and the third seven, we reached dry land. 35. There the gate-wards of the lofty burgh the latticed entrance opened, ere the court we entered. 36. Atli waked me, but I seemed to be full of evil thoughts, for my kinsmen's death. 37. "So me just now[85] have the Norns waked,--a grateful interpretation I fain would have. Methought that thou, Gudrun! Giuki's daughter! with a treacherous sword didst pierce me through." 38. "Fire it forebodes,[86] when one of iron dreams, arrogance and pleasure, a woman's anger. Against evil I will go burn thee, cure and medicate thee, although to me thou art hateful." 39. "Seemed to me here in the garden[87] that young shoots had fallen, which I wished to let grow: torn up with their roots, reddened with blood, to table they were brought, and offered me to eat. 40. "Seemed to me that hawks flew from my hand, lacking their quarry, to the house of woes; seemed to me I ate their hearts with honey swollen with blood, with sorrowing mind. 41. "Seemed to me from my hand whelps I let slip; lacking cause of joy, both of them howled: seemed to me their bodies became dead carcases: of the carrion I was compelled to eat." 42. "There will warriors[88] round thy couch converse, and of the white-locked ones take off the head; death-doomed they are within a few nights, a little ere day: thy court will eat of them." 43. "Lie down I would not,[89] nor sleep after, obstinate in my fate--That I will execute!" FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 82: That is the long fish of the heath, or Ung, a snake or serpent.] [Footnote 83: Soot.] [Footnote 84: Atli: Grimhild speaks.] [Footnote 85: Atli speaks.] [Footnote 86: Gudrun answers.] [Footnote 87: Atli speaks.] [Footnote 88: Gudrun answers.] [Footnote 89: Atll speaks.] THE THIRD LAY OF GUDRUN. Atli had a serving-woman named Herkia,[90] who had been his concubine. She informed Atli that she had seen Thiodrek and Gudrun together; whereat Atli was much afflicted. Then Gudrun said: 1. What ails thee ever, Atli! Budli's son! Hast thou sorrow in thy heart? Why never laughest thou? To thy jarls it would seem more desirable, that thou with men wouldst talk, and on me wouldst look. _Atli_. 2. It grieves me, Gudrun! Giuki's daughter! that in my palace here, Herkia has said, that thou and Thiodrek have under one covering slept, and wantonly been in the linen wrapt. _Gudrun_. 3. For all this charge I will give my oaths by the white sacred stone, that with me and Thiodrek nothing has passed, which to man and wife only belongs; 4. Save that I embraced the prince of armies, the honoured king, a single time. Other were our cogitations, when sorrowful we two sat to converse. 5. Hither came Thiodrek, with thirty warriors; now there lives not one of those thirty men. Surround me with thy brothers, and with mailed warriors; surround me with all thy noblest kinsmen. 6. Send to Saxi the Southmen's prince; he can hallow the boiling cauldron." 7. Seven hundred men entered the hall, ere in the cauldron the queen dipt her hand. 8. "Now Gunnar comes not, nor call I Hogni: I shall not see again my loved brothers: with his sword would Hogni such wrong avenge: now I must myself purify from crime." 9. She to the bottom, plunged her snow-white hand, and up she drew the precious stones.[91] "See now, ye men! I am proved guiltless in holy wise, boil the vessel as it may." 10. Laughed then Atli's heart within his breast, when he unscathed beheld the hand of Gudrun. "Now must Herkia to the cauldron go, she who Gudrun had hoped to injure." No one has misery seen who saw not that, how the hand there of Herkia was burnt. They then the woman led to a foul slough.[92] So were Gudrun's wrongs avenged. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 90: Herkia, the Erka or Helche of the German tradition, who here appears as a slave or servant, is, according to that tradition, the queen of Etzel or Atli, who did not marry Kreimhilt (Gudrun) until after her death. The falsification of the story, the pitiful subordinate part acted by Thiodrek, the perfect silence of all the other poems on this event, and the ordeal of the cauldron, sufficiently show that the poem is a later composition. P.E. Muller (II., p. 319) ascribes it to Sæmund himself.] [Footnote 91: The iarknastein of the original was a milk-white opal.] [Footnote 92: This punishment was known to the old Germans.] ODDRUN'S LAMENT. There was a king named Heidrek, who had a daughter named Borgny. Her lover was named Vilmund. She could not give birth to a child until Oddrun, Atli's sister, came. She had been the beloved of Gunnar, Giuki's son. Of this story it is here sung: 1. I have heard tell, in ancient stories how a damsel came to the eastern land: no one was able, on the face of earth, help to afford to Heidrek's daughter. 2. When Oddrun, Atli's sister, heard that the damsel had great pains, from the stall she led her well-bridled steed, and on the swart one the saddle laid. 3. She the horse made run on the smooth, dusty way, until she came to where a high hall stood. She the saddle snatched from the hungry steed, and in she went along the court, and these words first of all uttered: 4. "What is most noteworthy in this country? or what most desirable in the Hunnish land?" _Borgny_. 5. Here lies Borgny with pains overwhelmed, thy friend, Oddrun! See if thou canst help her. _Oddrun_. 6. What chieftain has on thee brought this dishonour? Why so acute are Borgny's pains? _Borgny_. 7. Vilmund is named the falcon-bearer's friend: he the damsel wrapt in a warm coverlet five whole winters, so that from her father she was hidden. 8. They, I ween, spoke not more than this: kindly she went to sit at the damsel's knee. Vehemently sang Oddrun, fervently sang Oddrun songs of power over Borgny. 9. A girl and boy might then tread the mould-way, gentle babes, born of Hogni's bane. Then began to speak the death-sick damsel, who before had no word uttered. 10. "So may thee help the benignant genii, Frigg and Freyia, and other gods besides, as thou hast from me peril removed!" 11. "I was not inclined to give thee help, because thou never wast of succour worthy: I vowed, and have performed what I then said--when the princes the heritage divided, that I would ever help afford." _Borgny_. 12. Mad art thou, Oddrun! and hast lost thy wits, when in hostile spirit most of thy words thou utterest; for I have been thy companion upon the earth, as if from brothers we both were born. _Oddrun_. 13. I remember yet what thou one evening saidst, when I for Gunnar, a compotation made. Such a case, saidst thou, would not thenceforth happen, to any maiden, save to me alone." 14. Then sat down the sorrowing lady to tell her woes, from her great grief: 15. "I was nurtured in the kingly hall, I was the joy of many in the council of men. Life I enjoyed, and my father's wealth, five winters only, while my father lived. 16. These last words the noble-hearted king strove to utter, ere he departed hence. 17. He bade me be endowed with ruddy gold, and in the south be given to Grimhild's son. He said no maiden could more excellent in the world be born, if fate willed it not otherwise. 18. Brynhild in her bower was occupied in broidery: she had people and lands around her. Earth slumbered, and the heavens above, when Fafnir's bane her burgh first saw. 19. Then was conflict waged with the Walish sword, and the burgh taken which Brynhild owned. It was not long--which was not surprising--ere she discovered all those frauds. 20. These she caused cruelly to be avenged, so that we all have great afflictions. Known it will be through every land of men, that she caused herself to die with Sigurd. 21. But I for Gunnar, rings' dispenser, love conceived, such as Brynhild should. But he Brynhild bade a helmet take, said she a Valkyria should become. 22. They forthwith offered[93] ruddy rings to my brother, and indemnity not small. He[94] besides offered for me fifteen vills, and the load of Grani's sides, if he would accept them. 23. But Atli said he never would a marriage-gift receive from Giuki's son. Still we could not our loves withstand, but I my head must lay upon the ring-breaker. 24. Many things said my relations; declared they had surprised us both together; but Atli said, that I would not crime commit, nor scandal perpetrate. But such should no one for another ever deny, when love has part. 25. Atli sent his emissaries about the Murkwood, that he might prove me; and they came to where they ought not to have come, to where we had one couch prepared. 26. To the men we offered red-gold rings, that they it might not to Atli tell; but they forthwith hastened home, and it quickly to Atli told. 27. But they from Gudrun carefully concealed it, yet rather by half she should have known it.[95] 28. A sound was heard of gold-shod hoofs, when into the court rode Giuki's heirs. * * * Of Hogni they the heart cut out, and into a serpent-pen the other cast. 29. I had gone yet once again to Geirmund, to prepare a banquet. * * * The brave king[96] began the harp to sound; for the prince of noble race hoped that I to his aid might come. 30. I it heard from Hlesey, how of trouble there the harp-strings sang. 31. I my thralls bade all be ready: I the prince's life would save. The vessel we let float past the forest,[97] until I saw all Atli's courts. 32. Then came Atli's miserable mother crawling forth:--may she perish!--she Gunnar pierced to the heart; so that the hero I could not save. 33. Oftentimes I wonder, woman gold-adorned![98] how I after can life retain; for I seemed the formidable sword-dispenser as myself to love: 34. Thou sitst and listenest, while I recount to thee many an evil fate, my own and theirs." Each one lives as he best may. Now is ended _Oddrun's lament_. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 93: For Brynhild's death.] [Footnote 94: Gunnar.] [Footnote 95: From here the narrative appears to be very fragmentary.] [Footnote 96: Gunnar while in the serpent-pen.] [Footnote 97: For "lund" (_forest, wood_), which is the reading of the MSS., the Copenhagen editor favors the correction to sund (a _sound_ or _strait, the Sound_)?] [Footnote 98: Borgny.] THE LAY OF ATLI. Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, avenged her brothers, as is well known. She first killed Atli's sons, and afterwards Atli himself, and burnt the palace with all the household. On these events was this lay composed. 1. Atli sent riding a messenger to Gunnar, a crafty man, Knefrud was his name. To Giuki's courts he came, and to Gunnar's hall, to the seats of state,[99] and the glad potation: 2. There drank the courtiers wine in their Valhall--but the guileful ones[100] silence kept--the Huns' wrath they[101] feared. Then said Knefrud, with chilling voice:--the southern warrior on a high bench sat-- 3. "Atli has sent me hither on his errand riding on a bit-griping steed, through the unknown Murkwood, to pray you, Gunnar! that to his bench ye come, with helms of state, Atli's home to visit. 4. "Shields ye there can choose, and smooth-shaven spears, gold-red helms, and of Huns a multitude, silver-gilt saddle-cloths, sarks gory-red, the dart's obstruction, and bit-griping steeds. 5. "The plain he will also give you, the broad Gnitaheid, whistling javelins, and gilded prows, vast treasures, and Danp's towns, with that famed forest, which men the Murkwood call." 6. Gunnar his head then turned, and to Hogni said: "What counselest thou, bold warrior? now suchlike we hear? Of no gold I knew on Gnita's heath, to which we possess not other equal. 7. "Seven halls have we filled with swords, of each of which the hilt is gold. My horse I know the best, and my sword the keenest; my bow adorns my seat, my corslets are of gold, my helm and shield the brightest, brought from the hall of Kiar: mine alone are better than all the Hunnish ones. 8. "What thinkest thou the woman[102] means, by sending us a ring in a wolf's clothing wrapt? I think that she caution enjoins. Wolf's hair I found twined in the red-gold ring: wolfish is the way we on our errand ride." 9. No sons persuaded Gunnar, nor other kinsman, interpreters nor counsellors, nor those who potent were. Then spake Gunnar, as beseemed a king, great in his mead-hall, from his large soul: 10. "Rise now up, Fiornir! let along the benches pass the golden cups of heroes, from the attendants' hands. 11. "The wolf shall rule the Niflungs' heritage, O bearded sages! if Gunnar perish; black-coated bears earth's fruit tear with their teeth, to the dogs' delight, if Gunnar come not back." 12. Honoured men, weeping led the land's ruler from the Huns' court. Then said Hogni's youthful heir: "Go now, prudent and prosperous, whither your wishes lead." 13. The warriors made their bit-griping steeds over the mountains fly, through the unknown Murkwood. The whole Hunnish forest trembled where'er the warriors rode; over the shrubless, all-green plains they sped. 14. Atli's land they saw, and the high watch-towers; Bikki's people stood on that lofty fortress; the south people's hall was round with benches set, with well-bound bucklers, and white shields, the javelin's obstruction. There Atli drank wine in his Valhall: his guards sat without, Gunnar and his men to watch, lest they there should come with yelling dart, to excite their prince to conflict. 15. Their sister forthwith saw, when the hall they had entered, her brothers both--beer had she little drunken--"Betrayed art thou now, Gunnar! though strong, how wilt thou contend with the Huns' deadly wiles? Go quickly from this hall! 16. "Better hadst thou, Gunnar! in corslet come, than with helm of state, to see the home of Atli; thou in the saddle wouldst have sat whole sun-bright days, and o'er the pallid dead let the Norns weep, the Hunnish shield-maids misery suffer; but Atli himself thou shouldst into the serpent-pen have cast; but now the serpent-pen is for you two reserved." 17. "Sister! 'tis now too late the Niflungs to assemble, long 'tis to seek the aid of men, of valiant heroes, over the rugged fells of Rhine." 18. Then the Burgundians' friends[103] Gunnar seized, in fetters laid, and him fast bound. 19. Hogni hewed down seven, with the keen sword, but the eighth he thrust into the raging fire. So should a valiant man defend himself from foes. 20. Hogni had Gunnar's hands[104] protected. The bold chief they asked, if the Goths' lord would with gold his life redeem? 21. "Hogni's heart in my hand shall lie, cut bloody from the breast of the valiant chief, the king's son, with a dull-edged knife." * * * They the heart cut out from Hialli's breast; on a dish bleeding laid it, and it to Gunnar bare. 23. Then said Gunnar, lord of men: "Here have I the heart of the timid Hialli, unlike the heart of the bold Hogni; for much it trembles as in the dish it lies: it trembled more by half, while in his breast it lay." 24. Hogni laughed, when to his heart they cut the living crest-crasher; no lament uttered he. All bleeding on a dish they laid it, and it to Gunnar bare. 25. Calmly said Gunnar, the warrior Niflung: "Here have I the heart of the bold Hogni, unlike the heart of the timid Hialli; for it little trembles, as in the dish it lies: it trembled less, while in his breast it lay. 26. "So far shalt thou, Atli! be from the eyes of men as thou wilt from the treasures be. In my power alone is all the hidden Niflungs' gold, now that Hogni lives not. 27. "Ever was I wavering, while we both lived; now am I so no longer, as I alone survive. Rhine shall possess men's baleful metal, the mighty stream, the As-known Niflungs' heritage. In the rolling water the choice rings shall glitter, rather than on the hands of the Huns' children shine. 28. "Drive your wheel-chariots, the captive is now in bonds." 29. Atli the mighty, their sister's husband, rode with resounding steeds, with strife-thorns[105] surrounded. Gudrun perceived the heroes' peril, she from tears refrained, on entering the hall of tumult. 30. "So be it with thee, Atli! as towards Gunnar thou hast held the oft-sworn oaths, formerly taken--by the southward verging sun, and by Sigty's hill, the secluded bed of rest, and by Ullr's ring." Yet thence the more did the bit-shaker[106] the treasure's guardian, the warrior chief, drag to death. 31. The living prince then did a host of men into a pen cast down, which was within with serpents over-crawled. But Gunnar there alone a harp in wrathful mood with his hand struck: the strings resounded. So should a daring chief, a ring-dispenser, gold from men withhold. 32. Atli turned his brass-shod[107] steed, his home to revisit, back from the murder. Din was in the court with horses thronged, men's weapon-song, from the heath they were come. 33. Out then went Gudrun, Atli to meet, with a golden cup to do her duty to the king. "Thou canst, O King! joyful in thy hall receive from Gudrun the arms of the departed." 34. The drinking-cups of Atli groaned with wine heavy, when in the hall together the Huns were counted. Long-bearded, bold, the warriors entered. 35. Hastened the bright-faced dame to bear their potions to them, the wondrous lady to the chiefs; and reluctantly to the pallid Atli the festal dainties offered, and uttered words of hate. 36. "Thou, swords' dispenser! hast thy two sons' hearts, slaughter-gory, with honey eaten. I resolved that thou, bold chief! shouldst of a human dish eat at thy feasting, and to the place of honour send it. Henceforth thou wilt not to thy knees call Erp and Eitil, joyous with beer the two: thou wilt not henceforth, see them from thy middle seat, gold-dispersing, javelins shafting, manes clipping, or horses urging." 38. Uproar was on the benches, portentous the cry of men, noise beneath the costly hangings. The children of the Huns wept, all wept save Gudrun, who never wept, or for her bear-fierce brothers, or her dear sons, young, simple, whom she had borne to Atli. 39. Gold scattered the swan-fair dame; with ruddy rings the household gifted. Fate she let ripen, but the bright gold flow. The woman spared not the treasure-houses. 40. Atli incautious had himself drunk weary; weapon he had none, nor was 'gainst Gudrun guarded. Oft had their sport been better, when they lovingly embraced each other before the nobles. 41. With the sword's point she gave the bed of blood to drink with death-bent hand, and the dogs loosed, out at the hall-door drove them, and the lady wakened the household with burning brand. That vengeance she for her brothers took. 42. To fire she then gave all that were therein, and from her brothers' murder were from the dark den[108] returned. The old structures fell, the treasure-houses smoked, the Budlungs' dwelling. Burnt too were the shield-maids within, their lives cut short; in the raging fire they sank. 43. Of this enough is said. No such woman will henceforth arms again bear, to avenge her brothers. That bright woman had to three kings of men the death-doom borne, before she died. Yet more clearly is this told in "Atlamalum inum Groenlenzkum" (the Groenland lay of Atli). FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 99: The epithet aringreypr is applied both to benches and helmets (see Strophes 3 and 16). Its meaning is doubtful: it has been rendered _iron-bound_, _brass-bound_, _hearth-encircling_, _curved like an eagle's beak_, etc. Benches and helmets of ceremony are evidently intended, probably ornamented with brass-work or figures of eagles. But to whichever substantive applied, I take its meaning to be the same.] [Footnote 100: The messengers of Atli.] [Footnote 101: The Giukungs.] [Footnote 102: Gudrun: she had sent, by Atli's messengers, a ring to her brothers, as a warning, in which a wolf's hair was entwined, together with a note in runes, which were falsified by Vingi.] [Footnote 103: Atli's men.] [Footnote 104: That is Gunnar himself.] [Footnote 105: Spears.] [Footnote 106: The horse.] [Footnote 107: The original word is eyrskan, a word of doubtful signification.] [Footnote 108: The serpent-pen.] THE GROENLAND LAY OF ATLI. 1. Of those misdeeds men have heard tell, when warriors of old a compact made, which by pledges they confirmed, a secret consultation held: terrible it was to them after, and to Giuki's sons likewise, who were betrayed. 2. The warriors' fate ripened, they were death-doomed: ill advised was Atli, though he possessed sagacity: he felled a mighty column, strove hardly against himself; with speed he messengers despatched, that his wife's brothers should come quickly. 3. Wise was the house-dame, prudently she thought; the words in order she had heard, that in secret they had said: the sage lady was at a loss: fain would she help them; they[109] o'er the sea must sail, but she herself could not go. 4. Runes she graved, Vingi them falsified, before he gave them from him; of ill he was the bearer. Then departed Atli's messengers, through the branched firth, for where the bold warriors dwelt. 5. They with beer were cheered, and fires they kindled, naught thought they of guile, when they were come; they the gifts accepted, which the prince sent them, on a column hung them, and of no evil thought. 6. Then came Kostbera, she was Hogni's wife, a woman greatly cautious, and them both greeted. Glad was also Glaumvor, Gunnar's consort, the prudent dame her duty forgot not, she to the guests' need attended. 7. Hogni they home invited, if he would be pleased to go. Treachery was manifest, had they but reflected! Gunnar then promised, if only Hogni would, but Hogni refused what the other proposed. 8. The noble dames bore mead, of many things there was abundance, many horns passed round, until it seemed they had full drunken. 9. The household prepared their couches, as to them seemed best. Cunning was Kostbera, she could runes interpret; she the letters read by the bright fire;--her tongue she had to guard between both her gums--so perverted were they, it was difficult to understand them. 10. To their bed they went, she and Hogni. The gentle lady dreamed, and concealed it not, to the prince wisely said it as soon as she awoke. 11. "From home thou art going, Hogni! give ear to counsel; few are fully prudent: go another time. 12. I have the runes interpreted, which thy sister graved: that fair dame has not this time invited thee. At one thing I wonder most, I cannot even conceive, why so wise a woman so confusedly should grave; for it is so set down as if it intimated death to you both, if you should straightway come. Either she has left out a letter, or others are the cause."[110] 13. "They are," said Hogni, "all suspicious; I have no knowledge of them, nor will I into it inquire, unless we have to make requital. The king will gift us with gleed-red gold. I never fear, though we may hear of terror." 14. "Tottering ye will go, if thitherward ye tend. No kind entertainment there will ye at this time find. Hogni! I have dreamed, I will not conceal it: in an evil hour ye will go, or so at least I fear. 15. "Methought thy coverlet was with fire consumed; that the towering flame rushed through my dwelling." _Hogni_. 16. "Here lie linen cloths, which thou hadst little noticed: these will quickly burn where thou the coverlet sawest." _Kostbera_. 17. "Methought a bear came in, and broke down the columns; and so his talons shook, that we were terror-stricken; by his mouth held many of us, so that we were helpless: there, too, was a din far from little." _Hogni_. 18. "A tempest there will be furious and sudden: the white bear thou sawest will be a storm from the east." _Kostbera_. 19. "Methought an eagle flew herein, all through the house: that will largely concern us. He sprinkled all with blood: from his threats I thought it to be the 'ham'[111] of Atli." _Hogni_. 20. "We often slaughter largely, and then red we see: often are oxen meant, when we of eagles dream. Sound is the heart of Atli, dream thou as thou mayest." With this they ended: all speeches have an end. 21. The high-born awoke, there the like befell: Glaumvor had perceived that her dreams were ill-boding, adverse to Gunnar's going to and fro. 22. "Methought a gallows was for thee erected,[112] thou wentest to be hanged, that serpents ate thee, that I inter'd thee living, that the Powers' dissolution came--Divine thou what that portends. 23. "Methought a bloody glave from thy sark was drawn--ill 'tis such a dream to a consort to recount--methought a lance was thrust through thy middle: wolves howled on every side." _Gunnar_. 24. "Where dogs run they are wont to bark: oft bodes the bay of dogs the flight of javelins." _Glaumvor_. 25. "Methought a river ran herein, through the whole house, that it roared violently, rushed o'er the benches, brake the feet of you brothers twain; nothing the water spared: something will that portend! 26. "Methought dead women in the night came hither; not ill-clad were they: they would choose thee, forthwith invited thee to their seats. I ween thy Disir have forsaken thee." _Gunnar_. 27. "Too late it is to speak, it is now so resolved; from the journey we shall not shrink, as it is decreed to go: very probable it seems that our lives will be short." 28. When colours were discernible, those on journey bent all rose up: the others fain would stay them. The five journeyed together, of "hus-carls" there were present twice that number--it was ill devised--Snævar and Solar, they were Hogni's sons; Orkning he was named, who them accompanied, a gentle shield-bearer was he, the brother of Hogni's wife. 29. They went fair-appointed, until the firth them parted: ever would their wives have stayed them, they would not be stayed. 30. Glaumvor then spake, Gunnar's consort, Vingi she addressed, as to her seemed fitting: "I know not whether ye will requite us as we would: with treachery came the guest, if aught of ill betide." 31. Then Vingi swore, little spared he himself: "May him the Jotuns have, if towards you he lies! the gallows hold him, if aught against peace he meditates!" 32. Bera took up the word, she of gentle soul: "Sail ye prosperous, and may success attend you: may it be as I pray, and if nothing hinder!" 33. Hogni answered--he to his kin meant well--"Be of good cheer, ye prudent! whatever may befall. Many say the same, though with great difference; for many little care how they depart from home." 34. On each other then they looked before they parted: then, I ween, their fates were severed, and their ways divided. 35. Vigorously they rowed, their bark was well nigh riven; backward bending the waves they beat, ardently plied: their oar-bands were broken, the rowlocks shattered. They made not the vessel fast before they quitted it.[113] 36. A little after--I will the end relate--they saw the mansion stand that Budli had possessed. Loud creaked the latticed gates, when Hogni knocked. 37. Then said Vingi, what he had better not, "Go far from the house, 'tis perilous to enter; I quickly enticed you to perdition; ye shall forthwith be slain. With fair words I prayed your coming, though guile was under them. But just bide here, while a gallows I prepare." 38. Hogni answered--little thought he of yielding, or of aught fearful that was to be proved:--"Think not to frighten us: try that seldom. If one word thou addest, thou wilt thy harm prolong." 39. They rushed on Vingi, and struck him dead, laid on their axes, while life within him throbbed. 40. Atli his men assembled, in their byrnies they issued forth, went prepared so that a fence was between them. Words they bandied, all with rage boiling: "Already had we resolved to take your lives away." _Hogni_. 41. "It looks but ill, if ye before have counselled: e'en now ye are unprepared, and we one have felled, smitten to death: one of your host was he." 42. Furious they became, when those words they heard; their fingers they stretched forth, and their bowstrings seized; sharply shot, and with shields themselves protected. 43. In then came the tale of what without was passing; loud before the hall they a thrall heard speak. 44. Then incensed was Gudrun, when the sad news she heard: adorned with necklaces, she tore them all asunder; so hurled the silver, that the rings in shivers flew. 45. Then she went out, not gently moved the doors; went forth, void of fear, and the comers hailed, turned to the Niflungs: that was her last greeting, truth attended it; more words she said: 46. "I sought by symbols to prevent your leaving home,--fate may no one resist--and yet must you come hither." Wisely she asked: might they not be appeased? No one consented, all answered no. 47. Saw then the high-born lady that a hard game they played; a deadly deed she meditated, and her robe dashed aside, a naked falchion seized, and her kinsmen's lives defended: skilful she was in warfare, where her hand she applied. 48. Giuki's daughter caused two warriors to fall; Atli's brother she struck down,--he must henceforth be borne--so she the conflict managed, that she his foot struck off. Another too she smote, so that he never rose, to Hel she sent him: her hand trembled not. 49. A conflict then ensued, which was widely famed, but that excelled all else which Giuki's sons performed. So 'tis said the Niflungs, while yet they lived, with swords maintained the fight, corslets rent, helmets hewed, as their hearts prompted. 50. At morning most they fought, until mid-day had passed; all early morn, and the forenoon, ere the fight was ended, the field flowed with blood, until eighteen had fallen: Bera's two sons, and her brother, had them overcome. 51. Then the fierce Atli spoke, wroth though he was: "'Tis ill to look around; this is long of you. We were thirty warlike thanes, eleven survive: the chasm is too great. We were five brothers, when Budli died; now has Hel the half, two lie slain. 52. "A great affinity I obtained, that I cannot deny, pernicious woman! of which I have no benefit: peace we have seldom had, since thou among us camest. Of kinsmen ye have bereft me, of riches often wronged. To Hel my sister ye have sent; that is to me most bitter." _Gudrun_. 53. "This thou callest to mind, Atli! but thou so first didst act: my mother thou didst take, and for her treasures murder; my gifted niece with hunger thou didst cause to perish. Laughable to me it seems, when thou sorrows dost recount. The gods are to be thanked, that it goes ill with thee." _Atli_. 54. Jarls! I exhort you the sorrow to augment of that presumptuous woman: I would fain see it. Strive so to do, that Gudrun may lament. Might I but see that in her lot she joys not! 55. Take ye Hogni, and with a knife hack him: cut out his heart: this ye shall do. Gunnar the fierce of soul to a gallows fasten; do the work thoroughly, lure up the serpents. _Hogni_. 56. Do as thou listest, glad I will await it; stout I shall prove myself: I have ere now things much harder proved. Ye had a hindrance while unscathed we were: now are we so wounded that our fate thou mayest command. 57. Beiti spake,--he was Atli's steward--Take we Hialli, but Hogni let us save. Let us do half the work; he is death-worthy. As long as he lives a slug he will ever be. 58. Terrified was the kettle-watcher, the place no longer held him: he could be a whiner, he clomb into every nook: their conflict was his bane, as he the penalty must pay; and the day sad, when he must from the swine die, from all good things, which he had enjoyed. 59. Budli's cook they took, and the knife brought towards him. Howled the wretched thrall, ere the point he felt; declared that he had time the gardens to manure, the vilest offices to do, if from death he might escape. Joyful indeed was Hialli, could he but save his life. 60. Hogni all this observed--few so act, as for a slave to intercede, that he may escape!--"Less 'tis, I say, for me to play this game myself. Why shall we here desire to listen to that screaming?" 61. Hands on the good prince they laid. Then was no option for the bold warriors, the sentence longer to delay. Then laughed Hogni; heard the sons of day how he could hold out: torment he well endured! 62. A harp Gunnar took, with his foot-branches touched it. He could so strike it, that women wept, and the men sobbed, who best could hear it. He the noble queen counselled: the rafters burst asunder. 63. There died the noble, as the dawn of day; at the last they caused their deeds to live. 64. Atli thought himself great: over them both he strode, to the sagacious woman told the evil, and bitterly reproached her. "It is now morning, Gudrun! thy loved ones thou hast lost; partly thou art the cause that it has so befallen." _Gudrun_. 65. Joyful art thou, Atli! slaughter to announce: repentance shall await thee, when thou hast all proved. That heritage shall be left thee--that I can tell thee--that ill shall never from thee go, unless I also die. _Atli_. 66. That I can prevent; another course I see, easier by half: the good we oft reject. With slaves I will console thee, with things most precious, with snow-white silver, as thou thyself mayest desire. _Gudrun_. 67. Of that there is _no_ hope; I will all reject; atonement I have spurned for smaller injuries. Hard I was ever thought, now will that be aggravated. I every grudge concealed, while Hogni lived. 68. We were both nurtured in one house; many a play we played, and in the wood grew up; Grimhild us adorned with gold and necklaces; for my brothers' death never wilt thou indemnify me, nor ever do what shall to me seem good. 69. Men's too great power women's lot oppresses; on the knee the hand sinks, if the arms wither; the tree inclines, if its root-fibres are severed. Now, Atli! thou mayest alone over all here command. 70. Most unwise it was, when to this the prince gave credit: the guile was manifest, had he been on his guard. Dissembling then was Gudrun, against her heart she could speak, made herself gay appear, with two shields she played.[114] 71. A banquet she would prepare, her brothers' funeral feast; the same would Atli also for his own do. 72. With this they ended; the banquet was prepared; the feasting was too luxurious. The woman great of heart was stern, she warred on Budli's race; on her spouse she would cruel vengeance wreak. 73. The young ones she enticed, and on a block laid them, the fierce babes were terrified, and wept not, to their mother's bosom crept, asked what she was going to do. 74. "Ask no questions, both I intend to kill; long have I desired to cut short your days." 75. "Slay as thou wilt thy children, no one hinders it; thy rage will have short peace, if thou destroyest us in our blooming years, thou desperate woman!" It fell out accordingly: she cut the throats of both. 76. Atli oft inquired whither his boys were gone to play, as he nowhere saw them? _Gudrun._ 77. Over I am resolved to go, and to Atli tell it. Grimhild's daughter will not conceal it from thee. Little glad, Atli! wilt thou be, when all thou learnest; great woe didst thou raise up, when thou my brother slewest. 78. Very seldom have I slept since they fell. Bitterly I threatened thee: now I have reminded thee. "It is now morning," saidst thou: I yet it well remember; and it now is eve, when thou the like shalt learn. 79. Thou thy sons hast lost, as thou least shouldest; know that their skulls thou hast had for beer-cups; thy drink I prepared, I their red blood have shed. 80. I their hearts took, and on a spit staked them, then to thee gave them. I said they were of calves,--it was long of thee alone--thou didst leave none, voraciously didst devour, well didst ply thy teeth. 81. Thy children's fate thou knowest, few a worse awaits. I have my part performed, though in it glory not. _Atli._ 82. Cruel wast thou, Gudrun! who couldst so act, with thy children's blood my drink to mingle. Thou hast destroyed thy offspring, as thou least shouldest; and to myself thou leavest a short interval from ill. _Gudrun._ 83. I could still desire thyself to slay; rarely too ill it fares with such a prince. Thou hast already perpetrated crimes unexampled among men of frantic cruelty, in this world: now thou hast added what we have just witnessed. A great misdeed hast thou committed, thy death-feast thou hast prepared. _Atli._ 84. On the pile thou shalt be burnt, but first be stoned; then wilt thou have earned what thou hast ever sought. _Gudrun._ 85. Tell to thyself such griefs early to-morrow: by a fairer death I will pass to another light. 86. In the same hall they sat, exchanged hostile thoughts, bandied words of hate: each was ill at ease. 87. Hate waxed in a Hniflung, a great deed he meditated; to Gudrun he declared that he was Atli's deadly foe. 88. Into her mind came Hogni's treatment; happy she him accounted, if he vengeance wreaked. Then was Atli slain, within a little space; Hogni's son him slew, and Gudrun herself. 89. The bold king spake, roused up from sleep; quickly he felt the wounds, said he no binding needed. "Tell me most truly who has slain Budli's son. I am hardly treated: of life I have no hope." _Gudrun._ 90. I, Grimhild's daughter, will not from thee hide, that I am the cause that thy life passes away; but partly Hogni's son, that thy wounds make thee faint. _Atli._ 91. To the slaughter thou hast rushed, although it ill beseemed thee; 'tis bad to circumvent a friend, who well confided in thee. Besought I went from home, to woo thee, Gudrun! 92. A widow thou was left, fierce thou wast accounted, which was no falsehood, as we have proved. Hither home thou earnest, us a host of men attended; all was splendid on our journey. 93. Pomp of all kinds was there, of illustrious men, beeves in abundance: largely we enjoyed them. Of all things there was plenty partaken of by many. 94. A marriage gift to my bride I gave, treasures for her acceptance, thralls thrice ten, seven fair female slaves: in such things was honour; silver there was yet more. 95. All seemed to thee as it were naught, while the lands untouched lay, which Budli had left me. So didst thou undermine, dist allow me nothing to receive. Thou didst my mother let often sit weeping: with heart content I found not one of my household after. _Gudrun._ 96. Now, Atli! thou liest, though of that I little reck. Gentle I seldom was, yet didst thou greatly aggravate it. Young brothers ye fought together, among yourselves contended; to Hel went the half from thy house: all went to ruin that should be for benefit. 97. Brothers and sisters we were three, we thought ourselves invincible: from the land we departed, we followed Sigurd. We roved about, each steered a ship; seeking luck we went, till to the east we came. 98. The chief king we slew, there a land obtained, the "hersar" yielded to us; that manifested fear. We from the forest freed him whom we wished harmless, raised him to prosperity who nothing had possessed. 99. The Hun king[115] died, then suddenly my fortune changed: great was the young wife's grief, the widow's lot was hers. A torment to me it seemed to come living to the house of Atli. A hero had possessed me: sad was that loss! 100. Thou didst never from a contest come, as we had heard, where thou didst gain thy cause, or others overcome; ever wouldst thou give way, and never stand, lettest all pass off quietly, as ill beseemed a king. _Atli._ 101. Gudrun! now thou liest. Little will be bettered the lot of either: we have all suffered. Now act thou, Gudrun! of thy goodness, and for our honour, when I forth am borne. _Gudrun._ 102. I a ship will buy, and a painted cist;[116] will the winding-sheet well wax, to enwrap thy corpse; will think of every requisite, as if we had each other loved. 103. Atli was now a corpse, lament from his kin arose: the illustrious woman did all she had promised. The wise woman would go to destroy herself; her days were lengthened: she died another time. 104. Happy is every one hereafter who shall give birth to such a daughter famed for deeds, as Giuki begat: ever will live, in every land, their oft-told tale, wherever people shall give ear. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 109: The messengers.] [Footnote 110: It would seem that the original runes, as graved by Gudrun, had not been so completely erased as to leave no traces of them; but that they were still sufficiently legible to enable Kostbera to ascertain the real purport of the communication.] [Footnote 111: Ham (hamr. _fem._ hamingia) a guardian angel, an attendant spirit.] [Footnote 112: Here a gallows in our sense of the word, but usually a stake on a scaffold, to which the condemned to a death of torture was bound hand and foot.] [Footnote 113: So great was their haste to land.] [Footnote 114: She played a double game.] [Footnote 115: Sigurd.] [Footnote 116: The ancient usage of laying the body in a ship and sending it adrift, seems inconsistent with the later custom of depositing it in a cist or coffin.] GUDRUN'S INCITEMENT. Having slain Atli, Gudrun went to the sea-shore. She went out into the sea, and would destroy herself, but could not sink. She was borne across the firth to the land of King Jonakr, who married her. Their sons were Sorli, Erp, and Hamdir. There was reared up Svanhild, the daughter of Sigurd. She was given in marriage to Jormunrek the Powerful. With him lived Bikki, who counselled Randver, the king's son, to take her. Bikki told that to the king, who caused Randver to be hanged, and Svanhild trodden under horses' feet. When Gudrun heard of this she said to her sons:-- 1. Then heard I tell of quarrels dire, hard sayings uttered from great affliction, when her sons the fierce-hearted Gudrun, in deadly words, to slaughter instigated. 2. "Why sit ye here? why sleep life away? why does it pain you not joyous words to speak, now Jormunrek your sister young in years has with horses trodden, white and black, in the public way, with grey and way-wont Gothic steeds? 3. Ye are not like to Gunnar and the others, nor of soul so valiant as Hogni was. Her ye should seek to avenge, if ye had the courage of my brothers, or the fierce spirit of the Hunnish kings." 4. Then said Hamdir, the great of heart: "Little didst thou care Hogni's deed to praise, when Sigurd he from sleep awaked. Thy blue-white bed-clothes were red with thy husband's gore, with death-blood covered. 5. "For thy brothers thou didst o'er-hasty vengeance take, dire and bitter, when thou thy sons didst murder. We young ones[117] could on Jormunrek, acting all together, have avenged our sister. 6. "Bring forth the arms of the Hunnish kings: thou hast us stimulated to a sword-mote." 7. Laughing Gudrun to the storehouse turned, the kings' crested helms from the coffers drew, their ample corslets, and to her sons them bore. The young heroes loaded their horses' shoulders. 8. Then said Hamdir, the great of heart: "So will no more come his mother to see, the warrior felled in the Gothic land, so that thou the funeral-beer after us all may drink, after Svanhild and thy sons." 9. Weeping Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, sorrowing went, to sit in the fore-court, and to recount, with tear-worn cheeks, sad of soul, her calamities, in many ways. 10. "Three fires I have known, three hearths I have known, of three consorts I have been borne to the house. Sigurd alone to me was better than all, of whom my brothers were the murderers. 11. "Of my painful wounds I might not complain; yet they even more seemed to afflict me, when those chieftains to Atli gave me. 12. "My bright boys I called to speak with me; for my injuries I could not get revenge, ere I had severed the Hniflungs' heads. 13. "To the sea-shore I went, against the Norns I was embittered; I would cast off their persecution; bore, and submerged me not the towering billows; up on land I rose, because I was to live. 14. "To the nuptial couch I went--as I thought better for me,--for the third time, with a mighty king. I brought forth offspring, guardians of the heritage, guardians of the heritage, Jonakr's sons. 15. "But around Svanhild bond-maidens sat; of all my children her I loved the best. Svanhild was, in my hall, as was the sun-beam, fair to behold. 16. "I with gold adorned her, and with fine raiment, before I gave her to the Gothic people. That is to me the hardest of all my woes, that Svanhild's beauteous locks should in the mire be trodden under horses' feet. 17. "But that was yet more painful, when my Sigurd they ingloriously slew in his bed; though of all most cruel, when of Gunnar the glistening serpents to the vitals crawled; but the most agonizing, which to my heart flew, when the brave king's heart they while quick cut out. 18. "Many griefs I call to memory, many ills I call to memory. Guide, Sigurd! thy black steed, thy swift courser, hither let it run. Here sits no son's wife, no daughter, who to Gudrun precious things may give. 19. "Remember, Sigurd! what we together said, when on our bed we both were sitting, that thou, brave one, wouldst come to me from Hel's abode, but I from the world to thee. 20. "Raise, ye Jarls! an oaken pile; let it under heaven the highest be. May it burn a breast full of woes! the fire round my heart its sorrows melt!" 21. May all men's lot be bettered, all women's sorrow lessened, to whom this tale of woes shall be recounted. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 117: Themselves and the two sons of Atli.] THE LAY OF HAMDIR. 1. In that court[118] arose woeful deeds, at the Alfar's doleful lament;[119] at early morn, men's afflictions, troubles of various kinds; sorrows were quickened. 2. It was not now, nor yesterday, a long time since has passed away,--few things are more ancient, it was by much earlier--when Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, her young sons instigated Svanhild to avenge. 3. "She was your sister, her name Svanhild, she whom Jormunrek with horses trod to death, white and black, on the public way, with grey and way-wont Gothic steeds. 4. "Thenceforth all is sad to you, kings of people! Ye alone survive, 5. "Branches of my race. Lonely I am become, as the asp-tree in the forest, of kindred bereft, as the fir of branches; of joy deprived, as is the tree of foliage, when the branch-spoiler comes in the warm day." 6. Then spake Hamdir, the great of soul, "Little, Gudrun! didst thou care Hogni's deed to praise, when Sigurd they from sleep awaked on the bed thou satst, and the murderers laughed. 7. "Thy bed-clothes, blue and white, woven by cunning hands, swam in thy husband's gore. When Sigurd perished, o'er the dead thou satst, caredst not for mirth--so Gunnar willed it. 8. "Atli thou wouldst afflict by Erp's murder, and by Eitil's life's destruction: that proved for thyself the worse: therefore should every one so against others use, for life's destruction, a sharp-biting sword, that he harm not himself." 9. Then said Sorli--he had a prudent mind--"I with my mother will not speeches exchange: though words to each of you to me seem wanting. What, Gudrun! dost thou desire, which for tears thou canst not utter? 10. "For thy brothers weep, and thy dear sons, thy nearest kin, drawn to the strife: for us both shalt thou, Gudrun! also have to weep, who here sit fated on our steeds, far away to die." 11. From the court they went, for conflict ready. The young men journeyed over humid fells, on Hunnish steeds, murder to avenge. 12. Then said Erp, all at once--the noble youth was joking on his horse's back--"Ill 'tis to a timid man to point out the ways." They said the bastard[120] was over bold. 13. On their way they had found the wily jester. "How will the swarthy dwarf afford us aid?" 14. He of another mother answered: so he said aid he would to his kin afford, as one foot to the other[121] [or, grown to the body, one hand the other]. 15. "What can a foot to a foot give; or, grown to the body, one hand the other?" 16. From the sheath they drew the iron blade, the falchion's edges, for Hel's delight. They their strength diminished by a third part, they their young kinsman caused to earth to sink. 17. Their mantles then they shook, their weapons grasped; the high-born were clad in sumptuous raiment. 18. Forward lay the ways, a woeful path they found, and their sister's son wounded on a gibbet, wind-cold outlaw-trees,[122] on the town's west. Ever vibrated the ravens' whet: there to tarry was not good. 19. Uproar was in the hall, men were with drink excited, so that the horses' tramp no one heard, until a mindful man winded his horn. 20. To announce they went to Jormunrek that were seen helm-decked warriors. "Take ye counsel, potent ones are come; before mighty men ye have on a damsel trampled." 21. Then laughed Jormunrek, with his hand stroked his beard, asked not for his corslet; with wine he struggled, shook his dark locks, on his white shield looked, and in his hand swung the golden cup. 22. "Happy should I seem, if I could see Hamdir and Sorli within my hall. I would them then with bowstrings bind, the good sons of Giuki on the gallows hang." 23. Then said Hrodrglod, on the high steps standing; "Prince" said she to her son--for that was threatened which ought not to happen--"shall two men alone bind or slay ten hundred Goths in this lofty burgh?" 24. Tumult was in the mansion, the beer-cups flew in shivers, men lay in blood from the Goths' breasts flowing. 25. Then said Hamdir, the great of heart: "Jormunrek! thou didst desire our coming, brothers of one mother, into thy burgh:[123] now seest thou thy feet, seest thy hands Jormunrek! cast into the glowing fire." 26. Then roared forth a godlike[124] mail-clad warrior, as a bear roars: "On the men hurl stones, since spears bite not, nor edge of sword, nor point, the sons of Jonakr." 27. Then said Hamdir, the great of heart: "Harm didst thou, brother! when thou that mouth didst ope. Oft from that mouth bad counsel comes." 28. "Courage hast thou, Hamdir! if only thou hadst sense: that man lacks much who wisdom lacks. 29. "Off would the head now be, had but Erp lived, our brother bold in fight, whom on the way we slew, that warrior brave--me the Disir instigated--that man sacred to us, whom we resolved to slay. 30. "I ween not that ours should be the wolves' example, that with ourselves we should contend, like the Norns' dogs, that voracious are in the desert nurtured." 31. "Well have we fought, on slaughtered Goths we stand, on those fallen by the sword, like eagles on a branch. Great glory we have gained, though now or to-morrow we shall die. No one lives till eve against the Norns' decree." 33. There fell Sorli, at the mansion's front; but Hamdir sank at the house's back. This is called the Old Lay of Hamdir. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 118: See Str. 10, and Ghv. 9, and. Luning, Glossar.] [Footnote 119: "The Alfar's Lament" is the early dawn, and is in apposition to "early morn," in the following line. The swart Alfar are meant, who were turned to stone if they did not flee from the light of day. This is the best interpretation I can offer of this obscure strophe.] [Footnote 120: In this and the four following strophes the person alluded to is their half-brother Erp, of whose story nothing more is known. He, it appears, had preceded or outridden the others.] [Footnote 121: Malmesbury relates a similar story of King Æthelstan and his cupbearer.] [Footnote 122: Lit. wolf-trees; a fugitive criminal being called vargr _wolf_.] [Footnote 123: According to the Skalda it would appear that they cut off his hands and feet while he was asleep. Erp, had they not murdered him, was to have cut off his head.] [Footnote 124: Odin, as in the battle of Bravalla.] THE YOUNGER EDDAS OF STURLESON. THE DELUDING OF GYLFI. GEFJON'S PLOUGHING.[125] 1. King Gylfi ruled over the land which is now called Svithiod (Sweden). It is related of him that he once gave a wayfaring woman, as a recompense for her having diverted him, as much land in his realm as she could plough with four oxen in a day and a night. This woman was, however, of the race of the Æsir, and was called Gefjon. She took four oxen from the north, out of Jotunheim (but they were the sons she had had with a giant), and set them before a plough. Now the plough made such deep furrows that it tore up the land, which the oxen drew westward out to sea until they came to a sound. There Gefjon fixed the land, and called it Sælund. And the place where the land had stood became water, and formed a lake which is now called "The Water" (Laugur), and the inlets of this lake correspond exactly with the headlands of Sealund. As Skald Bragi the Old saith:-- "Gefjon drew from Gylfi, Rich in stored up treasure, The land she joined to Denmark. Four heads and eight eyes bearing, While hot sweat trickled down them, The oxen dragged the reft mass That formed this winsome island." GYLFI'S JOURNEY TO ASGARD. 2. King Gylfi was renowned for his wisdom and skill in magic. He beheld with astonishment that whatever the Æsir willed took place; and was at a loss whether to attribute their success to the superiority of their natural abilities, or to a power imparted to them by the mighty gods whom they worshipped. To be satisfied in this particular, he resolved to go to Asgard, and, taking upon himself the likeness of an old man, set out on his journey. But the Æsir, being too well skilled in divination not to foresee his design, prepared to receive him with various illusions. On entering the city Gylfi saw a very lofty mansion, the roof of which, as far as his eye could reach, was covered with golden shields. Thiodolf of Hvina thus alludes to Valhalla being roofed with shields. "Warriors all care-worn, (Stones had poured upon them), On their backs let glisten Valhalla's golden shingles." At the entrance of the mansion Gylfi saw a man who amused himself by tossing seven small-swords in the air, and catching them as they fell, one after the other. This person having asked his name, Gylfi said that he was called Gangler, and that he came from a long journey, and begged for a night's lodging. He asked, in his turn, to whom this mansion belonged. The other told him that it belonged to their king, and added, "But I will lead thee to him, and thou shalt thyself ask him his name." So saying he entered the hall, and as Gylfi followed the door banged to behind him. He there saw many stately rooms crowded with people, some playing, some drinking, and others fighting with various weapons. Gangler, seeing a multitude of things, the meaning of which he could not comprehend, softly pronounced the following verse (from the Havamal, st. i.):-- "Scan every gate Ere thou go on, With greatest caution; For hard to say 'tis Where foes are sitting In this fair mansion." He afterwards beheld three thrones raised one above another, with a man sitting on each of them. Upon his asking what the names of these lords might be, his guide answered: "He who sitteth on the lowest throne is a king; his name is Har (the High or Lofty One); the second is Jafnhar (_i.e_. equal to the High); but he who sitteth on the highest throne is called Thridi (the Third)." Har, perceiving the stranger, asked him what his errand was, adding that he should be welcome to eat and drink without cost, as were all those who remained in Hava Hall. Gangler said he desired first to ascertain whether there was any person present renowned for his wisdom. "If thou art not the most knowing," replied Har, "I fear thou wilt hardly return safe. But go, stand there below, and propose thy questions, here sits one who will be able to answer them." OF THE SUPREME DEITY. 3. Gangler thus began his discourse:--"'Who is the first, or eldest of the gods?" "In our language," replied Har, "he is called Alfadir (All-Father, or the Father of all); but in the old Asgard he had twelve names." "Where is this God?" said Gangler; "what is his power? and what hath he done to display his glory?" "He liveth," replied Har, "from all ages, he governeth all realms and swayeth all things great and small." "He hath formed," added Jafnhar, "heaven and earth, and the air, and all things thereunto belonging." "And what is more," continued Thridi, "he hath made man, and given him a soul which shall live and never perish though the body shall have mouldered away, or have been burnt to ashes. And all that are righteous shall dwell with him in the place called Gimli, or Vingolf; but the wicked shall go to Hel, and thence to Niflhel, which is below, in the ninth world." "And where did this god remain before he made heaven and earth?" demanded Gangler. "He was then," replied Har, "with the Hrimthursar."[126] OF THE PRIMORDIAL STATE OF THE UNIVERSE. 4. "But with what did he begin, or what was the beginning of things?" demanded Gangler. "Hear," replied Har, "what is said in the Voluspa." "'Twas time's first dawn, When nought yet was, Nor sand nor sea, Nor cooling wave; Earth was not there, Nor heaven above. Nought save a void And yawning gulf. But verdure none.'" "Many ages before the earth was made," added Jafnhar, "was Niflheim formed, in the middle of which lies the spring called Hvergelmir, from which flow twelve rivers, Gjoll being the nearest to the gate of the abode of death." "But, first of all," continued Thridi, "there was in the southern region (sphere) the world called Muspell. It is a world too luminous and glowing to be entered by those who are not indigenous there.[127] He who sitteth on its borders (or the land's-end) to guard it is named Surtur. In his hand he beareth a flaming falchion, and at the end of the world shall issue forth to combat, and shall vanquish all the gods, and consume the universe with fire." ORIGIN OF THE HRIMTHURSAR, OR FROST-GIANTS. 5. "Tell me," said Gangler, "what was the state of things ere the races mingled, and nations came into being." "When the rivers that are called Elivagar had flowed far from their sources," replied Har, "the venom which they rolled along hardened, as does dross that runs from a furnace, and became ice. When the rivers flowed no longer, and the ice stood still, the vapour arising from the venom gathered over it, and froze to rime, and in this manner were formed, in Ginnungagap, many layers of congealed vapour, piled one over the other." "That part of Ginnungagap," added Jafnhar, "that lies towards the north was thus filled with heavy masses of gelid vapour and ice, whilst everywhere within were whirlwinds and fleeting mists. But the southern part of Ginnungagap was lighted by the sparks and flakes that flew into it from Muspellheim." "Thus," continued Thridi, "whilst freezing cold and gathering gloom proceeded from Niflheim, that part of Ginnungagap looking towards Muspellheim was filled with glowing radiancy, the intervening space remaining calm and light as wind-still air. And when the heated blast met the gelid vapour it melted it into drops, and, by the might of him who sent the heat, these drops quickened into life, and took a human semblance. The being thus formed was named Ymir, but the Frost-giants call him Orgelmir. From him descend the race of the Frost-giants (Hrimthursar), as it is said in the Voluspa, 'From Vidolf come all witches; from Vilmeith all wizards; from Svarthofdi all poison-seethers; and all giants from Ymir.' And the giant Vafthrûdnir, when Gangrad asked, 'Whence came Orgelmir the first of the sons of giants?' answered, 'The Elivagar cast out drops of venom that quickened into a giant. From him spring all our race, and hence are we so strong and mighty.'" "How did the race of Ymir spread itself?" asked Gangler; "or dost thou believe that this giant was a god?" "We are far from believing him to have been a god," replied Har, "for he was wicked as are all of his race, whom we call Frost-giants. And it is said that, when Ymir slept, he fell into a sweat, and from the pit of his left arm was born a man and a woman, and one of his feet engendered with the other a son, from whom descend the Frost-giants, and we therefore call Ymir the old Frost-giant." OF THE COW AUDHUMLA, AND THE BIRTH OF ODIN. 6. "Where dwelt Ymir, and on what did he live?" asked Gangler. "Immediately after the gelid vapours had been resolved into drops," replied Kar, "there was formed out of them the cow named Audhumla. Four streams of milk ran from her teats, and thus fed she Ymir." "But on what did the cow feed?" questioned Gangler. "The cow," answered Har, "supported herself by licking the stones that were covered with salt and hoar frost. The first day that she licked these stones there sprang from them, towards evening, the hairs of a man, the second day a head, and on the third an entire man, who was endowed with beauty, agility and power. He was called Bur, and was the father of Bor, who took for his wife Besla, the daughter of the giant Bolthorn. And they had three sons, Odin, Vili, and Ve; and it is our belief that this Odin, with his brothers, ruleth both heaven and earth, and that Odin is his true name, and that he is the most mighty of all the gods." HOW THE SONS OF BOR SLEW YMIR AND FROM HIS BODY MADE HEAVEN AND EARTH. 7. "Was there," asked Gangler, "any kind of equality or any degree of good understanding between these two races?" "Far from it," replied Har; "for the sons of Bor slew the giant Ymir, and when he fell there ran so much blood from his wounds, that the whole race of Frost-giants was drowned in it, except a single giant, who saved himself with his household. He is called by the giants Bergelmir. He escaped by going on board his bark, and with him went his wife, and from them are descended the Frost-giants." 8. "And what became of the sons of Bor, whom ye look upon as gods?" asked Gangler. "To relate this," replied Har, "is no trivial matter. They dragged the body of Ymir into the middle of Ginnungagap, and of it formed the earth. From Ymir's blood they made the seas and waters; from his flesh the land; from his bones the mountains; and his teeth and jaws, together with some bits of broken bones, served them to make the stones and pebbles." "With the blood that ran from his wounds," added Jafnhar, "they made the vast ocean, in the midst of which they fixed the earth, the ocean encircling it as a ring, and hardy will he be who attempts to pass those waters." "From his skull," continued Thridi, "they formed the heavens, which they placed over the earth, and set a dwarf at the corner of each of the four quarters. These dwarfs are called East, West, North, and South. They afterwards took the wandering sparks and red hot flakes that had been cast out of Muspellheim, and placed them in the heavens, both above and below, to give light unto the world, and assigned to every other errant coruscation a prescribed locality and motion. Hence it is recorded in ancient lore that from this time were marked out the days, and nights, and seasons." "Such are the events that took place ere the earth obtained the form it now beareth." "Truly great were the deeds ye tell me of!" exclaimed Gangler; "and wondrous in all its parts is the work thereby accomplished. But how is the earth fashioned?" "It is round without," replied Har, "and encircled by the deep ocean, the outward shores of which were assigned for a dwelling to the race of giants. But within, round about the earth, they (the sons of Bor) raised a bulwark against turbulent giants, employing for this structure Ymir's eyebrows. To this bulwark they gave the name of Midgard[128] They afterwards tossed Ymir's brains into the air, and they became the clouds, for thus we find it recorded. "Of Ymir's flesh was formed the earth; of his sweat (blood), the seas; of his bones, the mountains; of his hair the trees; of his skull, the heavens; but with his eyebrows the blithe gods built Midgard for the sons of men, whilst from his brains the lowering clouds were fashioned." OF THE FORMATION OF THE FIRST MAN AND WOMAN. 9. "To make heaven and earth, to fix the sun and the moon in the firmament, and mark out the days and seasons, were, indeed, important labours," said Gangler; "but whence came the men who at present dwell in the world?" "One day." replied Har, "as the sons of Bor were walking along the sea-beach they found two stems of wood, out of which they shaped a man and a woman. The first (Odin) infused into them life and spirit; the second (Vili) endowed them with reason and the power of motion; the third (Ve) gave them speech and features, hearing and vision. The man they called Ask, and the woman, Embla. From these two descend the whole human race whose assigned dwelling was within Midgard. Then the sons of Bor built in the middle of the universe the city called Asgard, where dwell the gods and their kindred, and from that abode work out so many wondrous things, both on the earth and in the heavens above it. There is in that city a place called Hlidskjalf, and when Odin is seated there on his lofty throne he sees over the whole world, discerns all the actions of men, and comprehends whatever he contemplates. His wife is Frigga, the daughter of Fjorgyn, and they and their offspring form the race that we call Æsir, a race that dwells in Asgard the old, and the regions around it, and that we know to be entirely divine. Wherefore Odin may justly be called All-father, for he is verily the father of all, of gods as well as of men, and to his power all things owe their existence. Earth is his daughter and his wife, and with her he had his first-born son, Asa-Thor, who is endowed with strength and valour, and therefore quelleth he everything that hath life." OF NIGHT AND DAY. 10. "A giant called Njorvi," continued Har, "who dwelt in Jotunheim, had a daughter called Night (Nott) who, like all her race, was of a dark and swarthy complexion. She was first wedded to a man called Naglfari, and had by him a son named Aud, and afterwards to another man called Annar, by whom she had a daughter called Earth (Jord). She then espoused Delling, of the Æsir race, and their son was Day, (Dagr) a child light and beauteous like his father. Then took All-father, Night, and Day, her son, and gave them two horses and two cars, and set them up in the heavens that they might drive successively one after the other, each in twelve hours' time, round the world. Night rides first on her horse called Hrimfaxi, that every morn, as he ends his course, bedews the earth with the foam that falls from his bit. The horse made use of by Day is named Skinfaxi, from whose mane is shed light over the earth and the heavens." OF THE SUN AND MOON. 11. "How doth All-father regulate the course of the sun and moon?" asked Gangler. "There was formerly a man," replied Har, "named Mundilfari, who had two children so lovely and graceful that he called the male, Mani (moon), and the female, Sol (sun), who espoused the man named Glenur. But the gods being incensed at Mundilfari's presumption, took his children and placed them in the heavens, and let Sol drive the horses that draw the car of the sun, which the gods had made to give light to the world out of the sparks that flew from Muspellheim. These horses are called Arvak and Alsvid, and under their withers the gods placed two skins filled with air to cool and refresh them, or, according to some ancient traditions, a refrigerant substance called _isarnkul_.[129] Mani was set to guide the moon in his course, and regulate his increasing and waning aspect. One day he carried off from the earth two children, named Bil and Hjuki, as they were returning from the spring called Byrgir, carrying between them the bucket called Saegr, on the pole Simul. Vidfinn was the father of these children, who always follow Mani (the moon), as we may easily observe even from the earth." OF THE WOLVES THAT PURSUE THE SUN AND MOON 12. "But the sun," said Gangler, speeds at such a rate as if she feared that some one was pursuing her for her destruction." "And well she may," replied Har, "for he that seeks her is not far behind, and she has no way to escape than to run before him." "But who is he," asked Gangler, "that causes her this anxiety?" "There are two wolves," answered Har; "the one called Skoll pursues the sun, and it is he that she fears, for he shall one day overtake and devour her; the other, called Hati, the son of Hrodvitnir, runs before her, and as eagerly pursues the moon that will one day be caught by him." "Whence come these wolves?" asked Gangler. "A hag," replied Har, "dwells in a wood, to the eastward of Midgard, called Jarnvid, (the Iron Wood,) which is the abode of a race of witches called Jarnvidjur. This old hag is the mother of many gigantic sons, who are all of them shaped like wolves, two of whom are the wolves thou askest about. There is one of that race, who is said to be the most formidable of all, called Managarm: he will be filled with the life-blood of men who draw near their end, and will swallow up the moon, and stain the heavens and the earth with blood. Then shall the sun grow dim, and the winds howl tumultuously to and fro." OF THE WAY THAT LEADS TO HEAVEN. 13. "I must now ask," said Gangler, "which is the path leading from earth to heaven?" "That is a senseless question," replied Har, with a smile of derision. "Hast thou not been told that the gods made a bridge from earth to heaven, and called it Bifrost? Thou must surely have seen it; but, perhaps, thou callest it the rainbow. It is of three hues, and is constructed with more art than any other work. But, strong though it be, it will be broken to pieces when the sons of Muspell, after having traversed great rivers, shall ride over it." "Methinks," said Gangler, "the gods could not have been in earnest to erect a bridge so liable to be broken down, since it is in their power to make whatever they please." "The gods," replied Har, "are not to be blamed on that account; Bifrost is of itself a very good bridge, but there is nothing in nature that can hope to make resistance when the sons of Muspell sally forth to the great combat." THE GOLDEN AGE. 14. "What did All-father do after Asgard was made?" demanded Gangler. "In the beginning," answered Har, "he appointed rulers, and bade them judge with him the fate of men, and regulate the government of the celestial city. They met for this purpose in a place called Idavoll, which is in the centre of the divine abode. Their first work was to erect a court or hall wherein are twelve seats for themselves, besides the throne which is occupied by All-father. This hall is the largest and most magnificent in the universe, being resplendent on all sides, both within and without, with the finest gold. Its name is Gladsheim. They also erected another hall for the sanctuary of the goddesses. It is a very fair structure, and called by men Vingolf. Lastly they built a smithy, and furnished it with hammers, tongs, and anvils, and with these made all the other requisite instruments, with which they worked in metal, stone and wood, and composed so large a quantity of the metal called gold that they made all their moveables of it. Hence that age was named the Golden Age. This was the age that lasted until the arrival of the women out of Jotunheim, who corrupted it." ORIGIN OF THE DWARFS. 15. "Then the gods, seating themselves upon their thrones, distributed justice, and bethought them how the dwarfs had been bred in the mould of the earth, just as worms are in a dead body. It was, in fact, in Ymir's flesh that the dwarfs were engendered, and began to move and live. At first they were only maggots, but by the will of the gods they at length partook both of human shape and understanding, although they always dwell in rocks and caverns. "Modsognir and Durin are the principal ones. As it is said in the Voluspa-- "'Then went the rulers there, All gods most holy, To their seats aloft, And counsel together took, Who should of dwarfs The race then fashion, From the livid bones And blood of the giant. Modsognir, chief Of the dwarfish race, And Durin too Were then created. And like to men Dwarfs in the earth Were formed in numbers As Durin ordered.'" OF THE ASH YGGDRASILL, MIMIR'S WELL., AND THE NORNS OR DESTINIES. 16. "Where," asked Gangler, "is the chief or holiest seat of the gods?" "It is under the ash Yggdrasill," replied Har, "where the gods assemble every day in council." "What is there remarkable in regard to that place?" said Gangler. "That ash," answered Jafnhar, "is the greatest and best of all trees. Its branches spread over the whole world, and even reach above heaven. It has three roots very wide asunder. One of them extends to the Æsir, another to the Frost-giants in that very place where was formerly Ginnungagap, and the third stands over Nifelheim, and under this root, which is constantly gnawed by Nidhogg, is Hvergelmir. But under the root that stretches out towards the Frost-giants there is Mimir's well, in which wisdom and wit lie hidden. The owner of this well is called Mimir. He is full of wisdom, because he drinks the waters of the well from the horn Gjoll every morning. One day All-father came and begged a draught of this water, which he obtained, but was obliged to leave one of his eyes as a pledge for it. "The third root of the ash is in heaven, and under it is the holy Urdar-fount. 'Tis here that the gods sit in judgment. Every day they ride up hither on horseback over Bifrost, which is called the Æsir Bridge. These are the names of the horses of the Æsir. Sleipnir is the best of them; he has eight legs, and belongs to Odin. The others are Gladr, Gyllir, Glær, Skeidbrimir, Silfrintoppr, Synir, Gils, Falhofnir, Gulltoppr, and Lettfeti. Baldur's horse was burnt with his master's body. As for Thor, he goes on foot, and is obliged every day to wade the rivers called Kormt and OErmt, and two others called Kerlaung. "Through these shall Thor wade every day, as he fares to the doomstead under Yggdrasill's ash, else the Æsir Bridge would be in flames, and boiling hot would become the holy waters."[130] "But tell me," said Gangler, "does fire burn over Bifrost?" "That," replied Har, "which thou seest red in the bow, is burning fire; for the Frost-giants and the Mountain-giants would go up to heaven by that bridge if it were easy for every one to walk over it. There are in heaven many goodly homesteads, and none without a celestial ward. Near the fountain, which is under the ash, stands a very beauteous dwelling, out of which go three maidens, named Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld.[131] These maidens fix the lifetime of all men, and are called Norns. But there are, indeed, many other Norns, for, when a man is born, there is a Norn to determine his fate. Some are known to be of heavenly origin, but others belong to the races of the elves and dwarfs; as it is said-- "'Methinks the Norns were born far asunder, for they are not of the same race. Some belong to the Æsir, some to the Elves, and some are Dvalin's daughters." "But if these Norns dispense the destinies of men," said Gangler, "they are, methinks, very unequal in their distribution; for some men are fortunate and wealthy, others acquire neither riches nor honours, some live to a good old age, while others are cut off in their prime." "The Norns," replied Har, "who are of a good origin, are good themselves, and dispense good destinies. But those men to whom misfortunes happen ought to ascribe them to the evil Norns." 17. "What more wonders hast thou to tell me," said Gangler, "concerning the ash?" "What I have further to say respecting it," replied Har, "is, that there is an eagle perched upon its branches who knows many things: between his eyes sits the hawk called Vedurfolnir. The squirrel named Ratatosk runs up and down the ash, and seeks to cause strife between the eagle and Nidhogg. Four harts run across the branches of the tree, and bite the buds. They are called Dainn, Divalinn, Duneyr, and Durathror. But there are so many snakes with Nidhogg in Hvergelmir that no tongue can recount them." "It is also said that the Norns who dwell by the Urdar-fount draw every day water from the spring, and with it and the clay that lies around the fount sprinkle the ash, in order that its branches may not rot and wither away. This water is so holy that everything placed in the spring becomes as white as the film, within an eggshell. As it is said in the Voluspa-- "'An Ash know I standing, Named Yggdrasill, A stately tree sprinkled With water the purest; Thence come the dewdrops That fall in the dales; Ever blooming, it stands O'er the Urdar-fountain."' "The dew that falls thence on the earth men call honey-dew, and it is the food of the bees. Two fowls are fed in the Urdar-fount; they are called swans, and from them are descended all the birds of this species." OF THE VARIOUS CELESTIAL REGIONS. 18. "Thou tellest me many wonderful things of heaven," said Gangler, "but what other homesteads are to be seen there?" "There are many other fair homesteads there," replied Har; "one of them is named Elf-home (Alfheim), wherein dwell the beings called the Elves of Light; but the Elves of Darkness live under the earth, and differ from the others still more in their actions than in their appearance. The Elves of Light are fairer than the sun, but the Elves of Darkness blacker than pitch. There is also a mansion called Breidablik, which is not inferior to any other in beauty; and another named Glitnir, the wall, columns and beams of which are of ruddy gold, and the roof of silver. There is also the stead called Himinbjorg, that stands on the borders where Bifrost touches heaven, and the stately mansion belonging to Odin, called Valaskjalf, which was built by the gods, and roofed with pure silver, and in which is the throne called Hlidskjalf. When All-father is seated on this throne, he can see over the whole world. On the southern edge of heaven is the most beautiful homestead of all, brighter than the sun itself. It is called Gimli, and shall stand when both heaven and earth have passed away, and good and righteous men shall dwell therein for everlasting ages." "But what will preserve this abode when Surtur's fire consumes heaven and earth?" asked Gangler. "We are told," replied Har, "that towards the south there is another heaven above this called Andlang, and again above this a third heaven called Vidblain. In this last, we think Gimli must be seated, but we deem that the Elves of Light abide in it now." OF THE WIND AND THE SEASONS. 19. "Tell me," said Gangler, "whence comes the wind, which is so strong that it moves the ocean and fans fire to flame, yet, strong though it be, no mortal eye can discern it? wonderfully, therefore, must it be shapen." "I can tell thee all about it," answered Har; "thou must know that at the northern extremity of the heavens sits a giant called Hræsvelgur, clad with eagles' plumes. When he spreads out his wings for flight, the winds arise from under them." 20. "Tell me further," said Gangler, "why the summer should be hot, and the winter cold." "A wise man would not ask such a question, which every one could answer," replied Har; "but, if thou hast been so dull as not to have heard the reason, I will rather forgive thee for once asking a foolish question than suffer thee to remain any longer in ignorance of what ought to have been known to thee. The father of Summer is called Svasuth, who is such a gentle and delicate being that what is mild is from him called sweet. The father of Winter has two names, Vindloni and Vindsval. He is the son of Vasad, and, like all his race, has an icy breath, and is of a grim and gloomy aspect." OF ODIN. 21. "I must now ask thee," said Gangler, "who are the gods that men are bound to believe in?" "There are twelve gods," replied Har, "to whom divine honours ought to be rendered." "Nor are the goddesses," added Jafnhar, "less divine and mighty." "The first and eldest of the Æsir," continued Thridi, "is Odin. He governs all things, and, although the other deities are powerful, they all serve and obey him as children do their father. Frigga is his wife. She foresees the destinies of men, but never reveals what is to come. For thus it is said that Odin himself told Loki, 'Senseless Loki, why wilt thou pry into futurity, Frigga alone knoweth the destinies of all, though she telleth them never?' "Odin is named Alfadir (All-father), because he is the father of all the gods, and also Valfadir (Choosing Father), because he chooses for his sons all of those who fall in combat. For their abode he has prepared Valhalla and Vingolf, where they are called Einherjar (Heroes or Champions). Odin is also called Hangagud, Haptagud, and Farmagud, and, besides these, was named in many ways when he went to King Geirraudr," forty-nine names in all. "A great many names, indeed!" exclaimed Gangler; "surely that man must be very wise who knows them all distinctly, and can tell on what occasions they were given." "It requires, no doubt," replied Har, "a good memory to recollect readily all these names, but I will tell thee in a few words what principally contributed to confer them upon him. It was the great variety of languages; for the various nations were obliged to translate his name into their respective tongues, in order that they might supplicate and worship him. Some of his names, however, have been owing to adventures that happened to him on his journeys, and which are related in old stories. Nor canst thou ever pass for a wise man if thou are not able to give an account of these wonderful adventures." OF THOR. 22. "I now ask thee," said Gangler, "what are the names of the other gods. What are their functions, and what have they brought to pass?" "The mightiest of them." replied Har, "is Thor. He is called Asa-Thor and Auku-Thor, and is the strongest of gods and men. His realm is named Thrudvang, and his mansion Bilskirnir, in which are five hundred and forty halls. It is the largest house ever built." "Thor has a car drawn by two goats called Tanngniost and Tanngrisnir. From his driving about in this car he is called Auku-Thor (Charioteer-Thor). He likewise possesses three very precious things. The first is a mallet called Mjolnir, which both the Frost and Mountain Giants know to their cost when they see it hurled against them in the air; and no wonder, for it has split many a skull of their fathers and kindred. The second rare thing he possesses is called the belt of strength or prowess (Megingjardir). When he girds it about him his divine might is doubly augmented; the third, also very precious, being his iron gauntlets, which he is obliged to put on whenever he would lay hold of the handle of his mallet. There is no one so wise as to be able to relate all Thor's marvellous exploits, yet I could tell thee so many myself that hours would be whiled away ere all that I know had been recounted." OF BALDUR. 23. "I would rather," said Gangler, "hear something about the other Æsir." "The second son of Odin," replied Har, "is Baldur, and it may be truly said of him that he is the best, and that all mankind are loud in his praise. So fair and dazzling is he in form and features, that rays of light seem to issue from him; and thou mayst have some idea of the beauty of his hair, when I tell thee that the whitest of all plants is called Baldur's brow. Baldur is the mildest, the wisest, and the most eloquent of all the Æsir, yet such is his nature that the judgment he has pronounced can never be altered. He dwells in the heavenly mansion called Breidablik, in which nothing unclean can enter." OF NJORD. 24. "The third god," continued Har, "is Njord, who dwells in the heavenly region called Noatun. He rules over the winds, and checks the fury of the sea and of fire, and is therefore invoked by sea-farers and fishermen. He is so wealthy that he can give possessions and treasures to those who call on him for them. Yet Njord is not of the lineage of the Æsir, for he was born and bred in Vanaheim. But the Vanir gave him as hostage to the Æsir, receiving from them in his stead Hoenir. By this means was peace re-established between the Æsir and Vanir. Njord took to wife Skadi, the daughter of the giant Thjassi. She preferred dwelling in the abode formerly belonging to her father, which is situated among rocky mountains, in the region called Thrymheim, but Njord loved to reside near the sea. They at last agreed that they should pass together nine nights in Thrymheim, and then three in Noatun. One day, when Njord came back from the mountains to Noatun, he thus sang-- "'Of mountains I'm weary, Not long was I there, Not more than nine nights; But the howl of the wolf Methought sounded ill To the song of the swan-bird.' "To which Skadi sang in reply-- "'Ne'er can I sleep In my couch on the strand, For the screams of the sea-fowl, The mew as he comes Every morn from the main Is sure to awake me.' "Skadi then returned to the rocky mountains, and abode in Thrymheim. There, fastening on her snow-skates and taking her bow, she passes her time in the chase of savage beasts, and is called the Ondur goddess, or Ondurdis. As it is said-- "'Thrymheim's the land Where Thjassi abode That mightiest of giants. But snow-skating Skadi Now dwells there, I trow, In her father's old mansion.'" OF THE GOD FREY, AND THE GODDESS FREYJA. 25. "Njord had afterwards, at his residence at Noatun, two children, a son named Frey, and a daughter called Freyja, both of them beauteous and mighty. Frey is one of the most celebrated of the gods. He presides over rain and sunshine, and all the fruits of the earth, and should be invoked in order to obtain good harvests, and also for peace. He, moreover, dispenses wealth among men. Freyja is the most propitious of the goddesses; her abode in heaven is called Folkvang. To whatever field of battle she rides, she asserts her right to one half of the slain, the other half belonging to Odin. As it is said-- "'Folkvang 'tis called Where Freyja hath right To dispose of the hall seats Every day of the slain, She chooseth the half, And half leaves to Odin.' "Her mansion, called Sessrumnir, is large and magnificent; thence she sallies forth in a car drawn by two cats. She lends a very favourable ear to those who sue to her for assistance. It is from her name that women of birth and fortune are called in our language Freyjor. She is very fond of love ditties, and all lovers would do well to invoke her." OF TYR. 26. "All the gods appear to me," said Gangler, "to have great power, and I am not at all surprised that ye are able to perform so many great achievements, since ye are so well acquainted with the attributes and functions of each god, and know what is befitting to ask from each, in order to succeed. But are there any more of them besides those you have already mentioned?" "Ay," answered Har, "there is Tyr, who is the most daring and intrepid of all the gods. 'Tis he who dispenses valour in war, hence warriors do well to invoke him. It has become proverbial to say of a man who surpasses all others in valour that he is _Tyr-strong_, or valiant as Tyr. A man noted for his wisdom is also said to be 'wise as Tyr.' Let me give thee a proof of his intrepidity. When the Æsir were trying to persuade the wolf, Fenrir, to let himself be bound up with the chain, Gleipnir, he, fearing that they would never afterwards unloose him, only consented on the condition that while they were chaining him he should keep Tyr's right hand between his jaws. Tyr did not hesitate to put his hand in the monster's mouth, but when Fenrir perceived that the Æsir had no intention to unchain him, he bit the hand off at that point, which has ever since been called the wolf's joint. From that time Tyr has had but one hand. He is not regarded as a peacemaker among men." OF THE OTHER GODS. 27. "There is another god," continued Har, "named Bragi, who is celebrated for his wisdom, and more especially for his eloquence and correct forms of speech. He is not only eminently skilled in poetry, but the art itself is called from his name _Bragr_, which epithet is also applied to denote a distinguished poet or poetess. His wife is named Iduna. She keeps in a box the apples which the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of to become young again. It is in this manner that they will be kept in renovated youth until Ragnarok." "Methinks," interrupted Gangler, "the gods have committed a great treasure to the guardianship and good faith of Iduna." "And hence it happened," replied Har, smiling, "that they once ran the greatest risk imaginable, as I shall have occasion to tell thee when thou hast heard the names of the other deities. 28. "One of them is Heimdall, called also the White God. He is the son of nine virgins, who were sisters, and is a very sacred and powerful deity. He also bears the appellation of the Gold-toothed, on account of his teeth being of pure gold, and also that of Hallinskithi. His horse is called Gulltopp, and he dwells in Himinbjorg at the end of Bifrost. He is the warder of the gods, and is therefore placed on the borders of heaven, to prevent the giants from forcing their way over the bridge. He requires less sleep than a bird, and sees by night, as well as by day, a hundred miles around him. So acute is his ear that no sound escapes him, for he can even hear the grass growing on the earth, and the wool on a sheep's back. He has a horn called the Gjallar-horn, which is heard throughout the universe. His sword is called Hofud (Head). HODUR THE BLIND, ASSASSIN OF BALDUR 29. "Among the Æsir," continued Har, "we also reckon Hodur, who is blind, but extremely strong. Both gods and men would be very glad if they never had occasion to pronounce his name, for they will long have cause to remember the deed perpetrated by his hand.[132] 30. "Another god is Vidar, surnamed the Silent, who wears very thick shoes. He is almost as strong as Thor himself, and the gods place great reliance on him in all critical conjunctures. 31. "Vali, another god, is the son of Odin and Rinda, he is bold in war, and an excellent archer. 32. "Another is called Ullur, who is the son of Sif, and stepson of Thor. He is so well skilled in the use of the bow, and can go so fast on his snow-skates, that in these arts no one can contend with him. He is also very handsome in his person, and possesses every quality of a warrior, wherefore it is befitting to invoke him in single combats. 33. "The name of another god is Forseti, who is the son of Baldur and Nanna, the daughter of Nef. He possesses the heavenly mansion called Glitnir, and all disputants at law who bring their cases before him go away perfectly reconciled. "His tribunal is the best that is to be found among gods or men. OF LOKI AND HIS PROGENY. 34. "There is another deity," continued Har, "reckoned in the number of the Æsir, whom some call the calumniator of the gods, the contriver of all fraud and mischief, and the disgrace of gods and men. His name is Loki or Loptur. He is the son of the giant Farbauti. His mother is Laufey or Nal; his brothers are Byleist and Helblindi. Loki is handsome and well made, but of a very fickle mood, and most evil disposition. He surpasses all beings in those arts called Cunning and Perfidy. Many a time has he exposed the gods to very great perils, and often extricated them again by his artifices. His wife is called Siguna, and their son Nari. 35. "Loki," continued Har, "has likewise had three children by Angurbodi, a giantess of Jotunheim. The first is the wolf Fenrir; the second Jormungand, the Midgard serpent; the third Hela (Death). The gods were not long ignorant that these monsters continued to be bred up in Jotunheim, and, having had recourse to divination, became aware of all the evils they would have to suffer from them; their being sprung from such a mother was a bad presage, and from such a sire was still worse. All-father therefore deemed it advisable to send one of the gods to bring them to him. When they came he threw the serpent into that deep ocean by which the earth is engirdled. But the monster has grown to such an enormous size that, holding his tail in his mouth, he encircles the whole earth. Hela he cast into Nifelheim, and gave her power over nine worlds (regions), into which she distributes those who are sent to her, that is to say, all who die through sickness or old age. Here she possesses a habitation protected by exceedingly high walls and strongly barred gates. Her hall is called Elvidnir; Hunger is her table; Starvation, her knife; Delay, her man; Slowness, her maid; Precipice, her threshold; Care, her bed; and Burning Anguish forms the hangings of her apartments. The one half of her body is livid, the other half the colour of human flesh. She may therefore easily be recognized; the more so, as she has a dreadfully stern and grim countenance. "The wolf Fenrir was bred up among the gods; but Tyr alone had the daring to go and feed him. Nevertheless, when the gods perceived that he every day increased prodigiously in size, and that the oracles warned them that he would one day become fatal to them, they determined to make a very strong iron fetter for him, which they called Læding. Taking this fetter to the wolf, they bade him try his strength on it. Fenrir, perceiving that the enterprise would not be very difficult for him, let them do what they pleased, and then, by great muscular exertion, burst the chain and set himself at liberty. The gods, having seen this, made another fetter, half as strong again as the former, which they called Dromi, and prevailed on the wolf to put it on, assuring him that, by breaking this, he would give an undeniable proof of his vigour. "The wolf saw well enough that it would not be so easy to break this fetter, but finding at the same time that his strength had increased since he broke Læding, and thinking that he could never become famous without running some risk, voluntarily submitted to be chained. When the gods told him that they had finished their task, Fenrir shook himself violently, stretched his limbs, rolled on the ground, and at last burst his chains, which flew in pieces all around him. He then freed himself from Dromi, which gave rise to the proverb, 'to get loose out of Læding, or to dash out of Dromi,' when anything is to be accomplished by strong efforts. BINDING THE WOLF FENIR "After this, the gods despaired of ever being able to bind the wolf; wherefore All-father sent Skirnir, the messenger of Frey, into the country of the Dark Elves (Svartalfaheim) to engage certain dwarfs to make the fetter called Gleipnir. It was fashioned out of six things; to wit, the noise made by the footfall of a cat; the beards of women; the roots of stones; the sinews of bears; the breath of fish; and the spittle of birds. Though thou mayest not have heard of these things before, thou mayest easily convince thyself that we have not been telling thee lies. Thou must have seen that women have no beards, that cats make no noise when they run, and that there are no roots under stones. Now I know what has been told thee to be equally true, although there may be some things thou art not able to furnish a proof of." "I believe what thou hast told me to be true," replied Gangler, "for what thou hast adduced in corroboration of thy statement is conceivable. But how was the fetter smithied?" "This can I tell thee," replied Har, "that the fetter was as smooth and soft as a silken string, and yet, as thou wilt presently hear, of very great strength. When it was brought to the gods, they were profuse in their thanks to the messenger for the trouble he had given himself; and taking the wolf with them to the island called Lyngvi, in the Lake Amsvartnir, they showed him the cord, and expressed their wish that he would try to break it, assuring him at the same time that it was somewhat stronger than its thinness would warrant a person in supposing it to be. They took it themselves, one after another, in their hands, and after attempting in vain to break it, said, 'Thou alone, Fenrir, art able to accomplish such a feat.' "'Methinks,' replied the wolf, 'that I shall acquire no fame in breaking such a slender cord; but if any artifice has been employed in making it, slender though it seems, it shall never come on my feet.' "The gods assured him that he would easily break a limber silken cord, since he had already burst asunder iron fetters of the most solid construction. 'But if thou shouldst not succeed in breaking it,' they added, 'thou wilt show that thou art too weak to cause the gods any fear, and we will not hesitate to set thee at liberty without delay.' "'I fear me much,' replied he wolf, 'that if ye once bind me so fast that I shall be unable to free myself by my own efforts, ye will be in no haste to unloose me. Loath am I, therefore, to have this cord wound round me; but in order that ye may not doubt my courage, I will consent, provided one of you put his hand into my mouth as a pledge that ye intend me no deceit.' "The gods wistfully looked at each other, and found that they had only the choice of two evils, until Tyr stepped forward and intrepidly put his right hand between the monster's jaws. Hereupon the gods, having tied up the wolf, he forcibly stretched himself as he had formerly done, and used all his might to disengage himself, but the more efforts he made the tighter became the cord, until all the gods, except Tyr, who lost his hand, burst into laughter at the sight. "When the gods saw that the wolf was effectually bound, they took the chain called Gelgja, which was fixed to the fetter, and drew it through the middle of a large rock named Gjoll, which they sank very deep into the earth; afterwards, to make it still more secure, they fastened the end of the cord to a massive stone called Thviti, which they sank still deeper. The wolf made in vain the most violent efforts to break loose, and opening his tremendous jaws endeavoured to bite them. The gods seeing this, thrust a sword into his mouth, which pierced his under-jaw to the hilt, so that the point touched the palate. He then began to howl horribly, and since that time the foam flows continually from his mouth in such abundance that it forms the river called Von. There will he remain until Ragnarok." "Verily," said Gangler, "an evil progeny is that of Loki, yet most mighty and powerful; but since the gods have so much to fear from the wolf, why did they not slay him?" "The gods have so much respect for the sanctity of their peace-steads," replied Har, "that they would not stain them with the blood of the wolf, although prophecy had intimated to them that he must one day become the bane of Odin." OF THE GODDESSES. 36. "Tell me now," said Gangler, "which are the goddesses?" "The first," replied Har, "is Frigga, who has a magnificent mansion called Fensalir. The second is Saga, who dwells at Sokkvabekk, a very large and stately abode. The third is Eir, the best of all in the healing art. The fourth, named Gefjon, is a maid, and all those who die maids become her hand-maidens. The fifth is Fulla, who is also a maid, and goes about with her hair flowing over her shoulders, and her head adorned with a gold ribbon. She is entrusted with the toilette and slippers of Frigga, and admitted into the most important secrets of that goddess. Freyja is ranked next to Frigga: she is wedded to a person called Odur, and their daughter, named Hnossa, is so very handsome that whatever is beautiful and precious is called by her name (_hnosir_.) But Odur left his wife in order to travel into very remote countries. Since that time Freyja continually weeps, and her tears are drops of pure gold. She has a great variety of names, for having gone over many countries in search of her husband, each people gave her a different name. She is thus called Mardoll, Horn, Gefn, and Syr, and also Vanadis. She possesses the necklace Brising. The seventh goddess is Sjofna, who delights in turning men's hearts and thoughts to love; hence a wooer is called, from her name, _Sjafni_. The eighth, called Lofna, is so mild and gracious to those who invoke her, that by a peculiar privilege which either All-Father himself or Frigga has given her, she can remove every obstacle that may prevent the union of lovers sincerely attached to each other. Hence her name is applied to denote love, and whatever is beloved by men. Vora, the ninth goddess, listens to the oaths that men take, and particularly to the troth plighted between man and woman, and punishes those who keep not their promises. She is wise and prudent, and so penetrating that nothing remains hidden from her. Syn, the tenth, keeps the door in the hall, and shuts it against those who ought not to enter. She presides at trials when any thing is to be denied on oath, whence the proverb, 'Syn (negation) is set against it,' when ought is denied. Hlina, the eleventh, has the care of those whom Frigga intends to deliver from peril. Snotra, the twelfth, is wise and courteous, and men and women who possess these qualities have her name applied to them. Gna, the thirteenth, is the messenger that Frigga sends into the various worlds on her errands. She has a horse that can run through air and water, called Hofvarpnir. Once, as she drove out, certain Vanir saw her car in the air, when one of them exclaimed, "'What flieth there? What goeth there? In the air aloft what glideth?' "She answered, "'I fly not though I go, And glide through the air On Hofvarpnir, Whose sire's Hamskerpir, And dam Gardrofa.' "Sol and Bil are also reckoned among the goddesses, but their nature has already been explained to thee. 37. "There are besides these a great many other goddesses, whose duty it is to serve in Valhalla; to bear in the drink and take care of the drinking-horns and whatever belongs to the table. They are named in Grimnismal, and are called Valkyrjor. Odin sends them to every field of battle, to make choice of those who are to be slain, and to sway the victory. Gudur, Rota, and the youngest of the Norns, Skuld, also ride forth to choose the slain and turn the combat. Jord (earth), the mother of Thor, and Rinda, the mother of Vali, are also reckoned amongst the goddesses." OF FREY AND GERDA. 38. "There was a man," continued Har, "named Gymir, who had for wife Aurboda, of the race of the Mountain-giants. Their daughter is Gerda, who is the most beautiful of all women. One day Frey having placed himself in Hlidskjalf, to take a view of the whole universe, perceived, as he looked towards the north, a large and stately mansion which a woman was going to enter, and as she lifted up the latch of the door so great a radiancy was thrown from her hand that the air and waters, and all worlds were illuminated by it. At this sight, Frey, as a just punishment for his audacity in mounting on that sacred throne, was struck with sudden sadness, insomuch so, that on his return home he could neither speak, nor sleep, nor drink, nor did any one dare to inquire the cause of his affliction; but Njord, at last, sent for Skirnir, the messenger of Frey, and charged him to demand of his master why he thus refused to speak to any one. Skirnir promised to do this, though with great reluctance, fearing that all he had to expect was a severe reprimand. He, however, went to Frey, and asked him boldly why he was so sad and silent. Frey answered, that he had seen a maiden of such surpassing beauty that if he could not possess her he should not live much longer, and that this was what rendered him so melancholy. 'Go, therefore,' he added, 'and ask her hand for me, and bring her here whether her father be willing or not, and I will amply reward thee.' Skirnir undertook to perform the task, provided he might be previously put in possession of Frey's sword, which was of such excellent quality that it would of itself strew a field with carnage whenever the owner ordered it. Frey, impatient of delay, immediately made him a present of the sword, and Skirnir set out on his journey and obtained the maiden's promise, that within nine nights she would come to a place called Barey, and there wed Frey. Skirnir having reported the success of his message, Frey exclaimed, "'Long is one night, Long are two nights, But how shall I hold out three? Shorter hath seemed A month to me oft Than of this longing-time the half.' "Frey having thus given away his sword, found himself without arms when he fought with Beli, and hence it was that he slew him with a stag's antlers." "But it seems very astonishing," interrupted Gangler, "that such a brave hero as Frey should give away his sword without keeping another equally good for himself. He must have been in a very bad plight when he encountered Beli, and methinks must have mightily repented him of the gift." "That combat," replied Har, "was a trifling affair. Frey could have killed Beli with a blow of his fist had he felt inclined: but the time will come when the sons of Muspell shall issue forth to the fight, and then, indeed, will Frey truly regret having parted with his falchion." OF THE JOYS OF VALHALLA. 39. "If it be as thou hast told me," said Gangler, "that all men who have fallen in fight since the beginning of the world are gone to Odin, in Valhalla, what has he to give them to eat, for methinks there must be a great crowd there?" "What thou sayest is quite true," replied Har, "the crowd there is indeed great, but great though it be, it will still increase, and will be thought too little when the wolf cometh. But however great the band of men in Valhalla may be, the flesh of the boar Sæhrimnir will more than suffice for their sustenance. For although this boar is sodden every morning he becomes whole again every night. But there are few, methinks, who are wise enough to give thee, in this respect, a satisfactory answer to thy question. The cook is called Andhrimnir, and the kettle Eldhrimnir. As it is said,--'Andhrimnir cooks in Eldhrimnir, Sæhrimnir.' 'Tis the best of flesh, though few know how much is required for the Einherjar." "But has Odin," said Gangler, "the same food as the heroes?" "Odin,' replied Har, 'gives the meat that is set before him to two wolves, called Geri and Freki, for he himself stands in no need of food. Wine is for him both meat and drink. "Two ravens sit on Odin's shoulders and whisper in his ear the tidings and events they have heard and witnessed. They are called Hugin and Munin.[133] He sends them out at dawn of day to fly over the whole world, and they return at eve towards meal time. Hence it is that Odin knows so many things, and is called the Raven's God. As it is said,-- 'Hugin and Munin Each dawn take their flight Earth's fields over. I fear me for Hugin, Lest he come not back, But much more for Munin.'" 40. "What have the heroes to drink," said Gangler, "in sufficient quantity to correspond to their plentiful supply of meat: do they only drink water?" "A very silly question is that," replied Har; "dost thou imagine that All-Father would invite kings and jarls and other great men and give them nothing to drink but water! In that case, methinks, many of those who had endured the greatest hardships, and received deadly wounds in order to obtain access to Valhalla, would find that they had paid too great a price for their water drink, and would indeed have reason to complain were they there to meet with no better entertainment. But thou wilt see that the case is quite otherwise. For the she-goat, named Heidrun, stands above Valhalla, and feeds on the leaves of a very famous tree called Lærath, and from her teats flows mead in such great abundance that every day a stoop, large enough to hold more than would suffice for all the heroes, is filled with it." "Verily," said Gangler, "a mighty useful goat is this, and methinks the tree she feeds on must have very singular virtues." "Still more wonderful," replied Har, "is what is told of the stag Eikthyrnir. This stag also stands over Valhalla and feeds upon the leaves of the same tree, and whilst he is feeding so many drops fall from his antlers down into Hvergelmir that they furnish sufficient water for the rivers that issuing thence flow through the celestial abodes." 41. "Wondrous things are these which thou tellest me of," said Gangler, "and Valhalla must needs be an immense building, but methinks there must often be a great press at the door among such a number of people constantly thronging in and out?" "Why dost thou not ask," replied Har, "how many doors there are, and what are their dimensions; then wouldst thou be able to judge whether there is any difficulty in going in and out. Know, then, that there is no lack of either seats or doors. As it is said in Grimnismal:-- "'Five hundred doors And forty more Methinks are in Valhalla. Eight hundred heroes through each door Shall issue forth Against the wolf to combat.'" 42. "A mighty band of men must be in Valhalla," said Gangler, "and methinks Odin must be a great chieftain to command such a numerous host. But how do the heroes pass their time when they are not drinking?" "Every day," replied Har, "as soon as they have dressed themselves they ride out into the court (or field), and there fight until they cut each other to pieces. This is their pastime, but when meal-time approaches they remount their steeds and return to drink in Valhalla. As it is said:-- "'The Einherjar all On Odin's plain Hew daily each other, While chosen the slain are. From the fray they then ride, And drink ale with the Æsir.' "Thou hast thus reason to say that Odin is great and mighty, for there are many proofs of this. As it is said in the very words of the Æsir:-- "'The ash Yggdrasill Is the first of trees, As Skidbladnir of ships, Odin of Æsir, Sleipnir of steeds, Bifrost of bridges, Bragi of bards, Habrok of hawks, And Garm of hounds is.' OF THE HORSE SLEIPNIR. 43. "Thou mad'st mention," said Gangler, "of the horse Sleipnir. To whom does he belong, and what is there to say respecting him?" "Thou seemest to know nothing either about Sleipnir or his origin," replied Har, "but thou wilt no doubt find what thou wilt hear worthy of thy notice. Once on a time when the gods were constructing their abodes, and had already finished Midgard and Valhalla, a certain artificer came and offered to build them, in the space of three half years, a residence so well fortified that they should be perfectly safe from the incursion of the Frost-giants, and the giants of the mountains, even although they should have penetrated within Midgard. But he demanded for his reward the goddess Freyja, together with the sun and moon. After long deliberation the Æsir agreed to his terms, provided he would finish the whole work himself without any one's assistance, and all within the space of one winter, but if anything remained unfinished on the first day of summer, he should forfeit the recompense agreed on. On being told these terms, the artificer stipulated that he should be allowed the use of his horse, called Svadilfari, and this, by the advice of Loki, was granted to him. He accordingly set to work on the first day of winter, and during the night let his horse draw stone for the building. The enormous size of the stones struck the Æsir with astonishment, and they saw clearly that the horse did one half more of the toilsome work than his master. Their bargain, however, had been concluded in the presence of witnesses, and confirmed by solemn oaths, for without these precautions a giant would not have thought himself safe among the Æsir, especially when Thor returned from an expedition he had then undertaken towards the east against evil demons. "As the winter drew to a close the building was far advanced, and the bulwarks were sufficiently high and massive to render this residence impregnable. In short, when it wanted but three days to summer the only part that remained to be finished was the gateway. Then sat the gods on their seats of justice and entered into consultation, inquiring of one another who among them could have advised to give Freyja away to Jotunheim, or to plunge the heavens in darkness by permitting the giant to carry away the sun and moon. They all agreed that no one but Loki, the son of Laufey, and the author of so many evil deeds, could have given such bad counsel, and that he should be put to a cruel death if he did not contrive some way or other to prevent the artificer from completing his task and obtaining the stipulated recompense. They immediately proceeded to lay hands on Loki, who, in his fright, promised upon oath that let it cost him what it would, he would so manage matters that the man should lose his reward. That very night, when the artificer went with Svadilfari for building stone, a mare suddenly ran out of a forest and began to neigh. The horse being thus excited, broke loose and ran after the mare into the forest, which obliged the man also to run after his horse, and thus between one and the other the whole night was lost, so that at dawn the work had not made the usual progress. The man seeing that he had no other means of completing his task, resumed his own gigantic stature, and the gods now clearly perceived that it was in reality a Mountain-giant who had come amongst them. No longer regarding their oaths, they, therefore, called on Thor, who immediately ran to their assistance, and lifting up his mallet Mjolnir paid the workman his wages, not with the sun and moon, and not even by sending him back to Jotunheim, for with the first blow he shattered the giant's skull to pieces, and hurled him headlong into Nifelhel. But Loki had run such a race with Svadilfari that shortly after he bore a grey foal with eight legs. This is the horse Sleipnir, which excels all horses ever possessed by gods or men." OF THE SHIP SKIDBLADNIR. 44. "What hast thou to say," demanded Gangler, "of Skidbladnir, which thou toldst me was the best of ships? Is there no other ship as good or as large?" "Skidbladnir," replied Har, "is without doubt the best and most artfully constructed of any, but the ship Nagffar is of larger size. They were dwarfs, the sons of Ivaldi, who built Skidbladnir, and made a present of her to Frey. She is so large that all the Æsir with their weapons and war stores find room on board her. As soon as the sails are set a favourable breeze arises and carries her to her place of destination, and she is made of so many pieces, and with so much skill, that when she is not wanted for a voyage Frey may fold her together like a piece of cloth, and put her in his pocket." "A good ship truly, is Skidbladnir," said Gangler, "and many cunning contrivances and spells must, no doubt, have been used in her construction." THOR'S ADVENTURES ON HIS JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF THE GIANTS. 45. "But tell me," he (Gangler) continued, "did it ever happen to Thor in his expeditions to be overcome either by spells or by downright force?" "Few can take upon them to affirm this," replied Har, "and yet it has often fared hard enough with him; but had he in reality been worsted in any rencounter there would be no need to make mention of it, since all are bound to believe that nothing can resist his power." "It would, therefore, appear," said Gangler, "that I have asked of you things that none of you are able to tell me of." "There are, indeed, some such rumours current among us," answered Jafnhar, "but they are hardly credible; however, there is one sitting here can impart them to thee, and thou shouldst the rather believe him, for never having yet uttered an untruth, he will not now begin to deceive thee with false stories." "Here then will I stand," said Gangler, "and listen to what ye have to say, but if ye cannot answer my question satisfactorily I shall look upon you as vanquished." Then spake Thridi and said, "We can easily conceive that thou art desirous of knowing these tidings, but it behooves thee to guard a becoming silence respecting them. The story I have to relate is this:-- 46. "One day the God Thor set out in his car drawn by two he-goats, and accompanied by Loki, on a journey. Night coming on, they put up at a peasant's cottage, where Thor killed his goats, and after flaying them, put them in the kettle. When the flesh was sodden, he sat down with his fellow-traveller to supper, and invited the peasant and his family to partake of his repast. The peasant's son was named Thjalfi, and his daughter Roska. Thor bade them throw all the bones into the goats' skins which were spread out near the fire-place, but young Thjalfi broke one of the shank bones with his knife to come to the marrow. Thor having passed the night in the cottage, rose at the dawn of day, and when he was dressed took his mallet Mjolnir, and lifting it up, consecrated the goats' skins, which he had no sooner done than the two goats re-assumed their wonted form, only that one of them now limped on one of its hind legs. Thor perceiving this, said that the peasant, or one of his family, had handled the shank bone of this goat too roughly, for he saw clearly that it was broken. It may readily be imagined how frightened the peasant was when he saw Thor knit his brows, and grasp the handle of his mallet with such force that the joints of his fingers became white from the exertion. Fearing to be struck down by the very looks of the god, the peasant and his family made joint suit for pardon, offering whatever they possessed as an atonement for the offence committed. Thor, seeing their fear, desisted from his wrath, and became more placable, and finally contented himself by requiring the peasant's children, Thjalfi and Roska, who became his bond-servants, and have followed him ever since. 'Leaving his goats with the peasant, Thor proceeded eastward on the road to Jotunheim, until he came to the shores of a vast and deep sea, which having passed over he penetrated into a strange country along with his companions, Loki, Thjalfi, and Roska. They had not gone far before they saw before them an immense forest, through which they wandered all day. Thjalfi was of all men the swiftest of foot. He bore Thor's wallet, but the forest was a bad place for finding anything eatable to stow in it. When it became dark, they searched on all sides for a place where they might pass the night, and at last came to a very large hall with an entrance that took up the whole breadth of one of the ends of the building. Here they chose them a place to sleep in; but towards midnight were alarmed by an earthquake which shook the whole edifice. Thor, rising up, called on his companions to seek with him a place of safety. On the right they found an adjoining chamber, into which they entered, but while the others, trembling with fear, crept into the furthest corner of this retreat, Thor remained at the doorway with his mallet in his hand, prepared to defend himself, whatever might happen. A terrible groaning was heard during the night, and at dawn of day, Thor went out and observed lying near him a man of enormous bulk, who slept and snored pretty loudly. Thor could now account for the noise they had heard over night, and girding on his Belt of Prowess, increased that divine strength which he now stood in need of. The giant awakening, rose up, and it is said that for once in his life Thor was afraid to make use of his mallet, and contented himself by simply asking the giant his name. "'My name is Skrymir, said the other, 'but I need not ask thy name, for I know thou art the God Thor. But what hast thou done with my glove?' And stretching out his hand Skrymir picked up his glove, which Thor then perceived was what they had taken over night for a hall, the chamber where they had sought refuge being the thumb. Skrymir then asked whether they would have his fellowship, and Thor consenting, the giant opened his wallet and began to eat his breakfast. Thor and his companions having also taken their morning repast, though in another place, Skrymir proposed that they should lay their provisions together, which Thor also assented to. The giant then put all the meat into one wallet, which he slung on his back and went before them, taking tremendous strides, the whole day, and at dusk sought out for them a place where they might pass the night under a large oak tree. Skrymir then told them that he would lie down to sleep. 'But take ye the wallet,' he added, 'and prepare your supper.' "Skrymir soon fell asleep, and began to snore strongly, but incredible though it may appear, it must nevertheless be told, that when Thor came to open the wallet he could not untie a single knot, nor render a single string looser than it was before. Seeing that his labour was in vain, Thor became wroth, and grasping his mallet with both hands while he advanced a step forward, launched it at the giant's head. Skrymir, awakening, merely asked whether a leaf had not fallen on his head, and whether they had supped and were ready to go to sleep. Thor answered that they were just going to sleep, and so saying, went and laid himself down under another oak tree. But sleep came not that night to Thor, and when he remarked that Skrymir snored again so loud that the forest re-echoed with the noise, he arose, and grasping his mallet, launched it with such force that it sunk into the giant's skull up to the handle. Skrymir awakening, cried out-- "'What's the matter? did an acorn fall on my head? How fares it with thee, Thor?' "But Thor went away hastily, saying that he had just then awoke, and that as it was only midnight there was still time for sleep. He however resolved that if he had an opportunity of striking a third blow, it should settle all matters between them. A little before daybreak he perceived that Skrymir was again fast asleep, and again grasping his mallet, dashed it with such violence that it forced its way into the giant's cheek up to the handle. But Skrymir sat up, and stroking his cheek, said-- "'Are there any birds perched on this tree? Methought when I awoke some moss from the branches fell on my head. What! Art thou awake, Thor? Methinks it is time for us to get up and dress ourselves; but you have not now a long way before you to the city called Utgard. I have heard you whispering to one another that I am not a man of small dimensions; but if you come into Utgard you will see there many men much taller than myself. Wherefore I advise you, when you come there, not to make too much of yourselves, for the followers of Utgard-Loki will not brook the boasting of such mannikins as ye are. The best thing you could do would probably be to turn back again, but if you persist in going on, take the road that leads eastward, for mine now lies northward to those rocks which you may see in the distance.' "Hereupon, he threw his wallet over his shoulders and turned away from them, into the forest, and I could never hear that Thor wished to meet with him a second time. 47. "Thor and his companions proceeded on their way, and towards noon descried a city standing in the middle of a plain. It was so lofty that they were obliged to bend their necks quite back on their shoulders ere they could see to the top of it. On arriving at the walls they found the gateway closed with a gate of bars strongly locked and bolted. Thor, after trying in vain to open it, crept with his companions through the bars, and thus succeeded in gaining admission into the city. Seeing a large palace before them, with the door wide open, they went in and found a number of men of prodigious stature sitting on benches in the hall. Going further, they came before the king, Utgard-Loki, whom they saluted with great respect. Their salutations were however returned by a contemptuous look from the king, who, after regarding them for some time, said with a scornful smile-- "'It is tedious to ask for tidings of a long journey, yet if I do not mistake me, that stripling there must be Aku-Thor. Perhaps,' he added, addressing himself to Thor, 'thou mayst be taller than thou appearest to be. But what are the feats that thou and thy fellows deem yourselves skilled in, for no one is permitted to remain here who does not, in some feat or other, excel all other men.' "'The feat I know,' replied Loki, 'is to eat quicker than any one else, and in this I am ready to give a proof against any one here who may choose to compete with me.' "'That will indeed be a feat,' said Utgard-Loki, 'if thou performest what thou promisest, and it shall be tried forthwith.' "He then ordered one of his men, who was sitting at the further end of the bench, and whose name was Logi,[134] to come forward and try his skill with Loki. A trough filled with flesh meat having been set on the hall floor, Loki placed himself at one end, and Logi at the other, and each of them, began to eat as fast as he could, until they met in the middle of the trough. But it was found that Loki had only eaten the flesh, whereas his adversary had devoured both flesh and bone, and the trough to boot. All the company therefore adjudged that Loki was vanquished. "Utgard-Loki then asked what feat the young man who accompanied Thor could perform. Thjalfi answered that he would run a race with any one who might be matched against him. The king observed that skill in running was something to boast of, but that if the youth would win the match he must display great agility. He then arose and went with all who were present to a plain where there was a good ground for running on, and calling a young man named Hugi,[135] bade him run a match with Thjalfi. In the first course Hugi so much outstripped his competitor that he turned back and met him not far from the starting-place. "'Thou must ply thy legs better, Thjalfi,' said Utgard-Loki, 'if thou wilt win the match, though I must needs say that there never came a man here swifter of foot than thou art.' "In the second course, Thjalfi was a full bow-shot from the goal when Hugi arrived at it. "'Most bravely dost thou run, Thjalfi,' said Utgard-Loki, 'though thou wilt not, methinks, win the match. But the third, course must decide.' "They accordingly ran a third time, but Hugi had already reached the goal before Thjalfi had got half way. All who were present then cried out that there had been a sufficient trial of skill in this kind of exercise. 50. "Utgard-Loki then asked Thor in what feats he would choose to give proofs of that dexterity for which he was so famous. Thor replied, that he would begin a drinking match with any one. Utgard-Loki consented, and entering the palace, bade his cupbearer bring the large horn which his followers were obliged to drink out of when they had trespassed in any way against established usage. The cupbearer having presented it to Thor, Utgard-Loki said-- "'Whoever is a good drinker will empty that horn at a single draught, though some men make two of it, but the most puny drinker of all can do it at three.' "Thor looked at the horn, which seemed of no extraordinary size, though somewhat long; however, as he was very thirsty, he set it to his lips, and without drawing breath pulled as long and as deeply as he could, that he might not be obliged to make a second draught of it; but when he set the horn down and looked in, he could scarcely perceive that the liquor was diminished. "''Tis well drunken,' exclaimed Utgard-Loki, 'though nothing much to boast of; and I would not have believed had it been told me that Asa-Thor could not have taken a greater draught, but thou no doubt meanest to make amends at the second pull.' "Thor, without answering, went to it again with all his might, but when he took the horn from his mouth it seemed to him as if he had drunk rather less than before, although the horn could now be carried without spilling. "'How now, Thor,' said Utgard-Loki; 'thou must not spare thyself more in performing a feat than befits thy skill; but if thou meanest to drain the horn at the third draught thou must pull deeply; and I must needs say that thou wilt not be called so mighty a man here as thou art among the Æsir, if thou showest no greater prowess in other feats than, methinks, will be shown in this.' "Thor, full of wrath, again set the horn to his lips, and exerted himself to the utmost to empty it entirely, but on looking in found that the liquor was only a little lower, upon which he resolved to make no further attempt, but gave back the horn to the cupbearer. 51. "'I now see plainly,' said Utgard-Loki, 'that thou are not quite so stout as we thought thee, but wilt thou try any other feat, though, methinks, thou art not likely to bear any prize away with thee hence.' "'I will try another feat,' replied Thor, 'and I am sure such draughts as I have been drinking would not have been reckoned small among the Æsir; but what new trial hast thou to propose?' "'We have a very, trifling game here,' answered Ut-gard-Loki, 'in which we exercise none but children. It consists in merely lifting my cat from the ground, nor should I have dared to mention such a feat to Asa-Thor if I had not already observed that thou art by no means what we took thee for.' "As he finished speaking, a large grey cat sprung on the hall floor. Thor advancing put his hand under the cat's belly, and did his utmost to raise him from the floor, but the cat bending his back had, notwithstanding all Thor's efforts, only one of his feet lifted up, seeing which, Thor made no further attempt. "'This trial has turned out,' said Utgard-Loki, 'just as I imagined it would; the cat is large, but Thor is little in comparison to our men.' "'Little as ye call me,' answered Thor, 'let me see who amongst you will come hither now I am in wrath, and wrestle with me.' "'I see no one here,' said Utgard-Loki, looking at the men sitting on the benches, 'who would not think it beneath him to wrestle with thee; let somebody, however, call hither that old crone, my nurse Elli,[136] and let Thor wrestle with her if he will. She has thrown to the ground many a man not less strong and mighty than this Thor is.' 53. "A toothless old woman then entered the hall, and was told by Utgard-Loki to take hold of Thor. The tale is shortly told. The more Thor tightened his hold on the crone the firmer she stood. At length, after a very violent struggle, Thor began to lose his footing, and was finally brought down upon one knee. Utgard-Loki then told them to desist, adding that Thor had now no occasion to ask any one else in the hall to wrestle with him, and it was also getting late. He therefore showed Thor and his companions to their seats, and they passed the night there in good cheer. 54. "The next morning, at break of day, Thor and his companions dressed themselves and prepared for their departure. Utgard-Loki then came and ordered a table to be set for them, on which there was no lack either of victuals or drink. After the repast Utgard-Loki led them to the gate of the city, and, on parting, asked Thor how he thought his journey had turned out, and whether he had met with any men stronger than himself. Thor told him that he could not deny but that he had brought great shame on himself. 'And what grieves me most,' he added, 'is that ye will call me a man of little worth.' 55. "'Nay,' said Utgard-Loki, 'it behooves me to tell thee the truth now thou are out of the city which so long as I live, and have my way, thou shalt never re-enter. And by my troth, had I known beforehand that thou hadst so much strength in thee, and wouldst have brought me so near to a great mishap, I would not have suffered thee to enter this time. Know then that I have all along deceived thee by my illusions; first, in the forest, where I arrived before thee, and there thou wert not able to untie the wallet, because I had bound it with iron wire, in such a manner that thou couldst not discover how the knot ought to be loosened. After this, thou gavest me three blows with thy mallet; the first, though the least, would have ended my days had it fallen on me, but I brought a rocky mountain before me which thou didst not perceive, and in this mountain thou wilt find three glens, one of them remarkably deep. These are the dints made by thy mallet. I have made use of similar illusions in the contests ye have had with my followers. In the first, Loki, like hunger itself, devoured all that was set before him, but Logi was, in reality, nothing else than ardent fire, and therefore consumed not only the meat but the trough which held it. Hugi, with whom Thjalfi contended in running, was Thought, and it was impossible for Thjalfi to keep pace with that. When thou, in thy turn, didst try to empty the horn, thou didst perform, by my troth, a deed so marvellous, that had I not seen it myself I should never have believed it. For one end of that horn reached the sea, which thou wast not aware of, but when thou comest to the shore thou wilt perceive how much the sea has sunk by thy draughts, which have caused what is now called the ebb. Thou didst perform a feat no less wonderful by lifting up the cat, and to tell thee the truth, when we saw that one of his paws was off the floor, we were all of us terror-stricken, for what thou tookest for a cat was in reality the great Midgard serpent that encompassed the whole earth, and he was then barely long enough to inclose it between his head and tail, so high had thy hand raised him up towards heaven. Thy wrestling with Elli was also a most astonishing feat, for there was never yet a man, nor ever shall be, whom Old Age, for such in fact was Elli, will not sooner or later lay low if he abide her coming. But now as we are going to part, let me tell thee that it will be better for both of us if thou never come near me again, for shouldst thou do so, I shall again defend myself by other illusions, so that thou wilt never prevail against me.' "On hearing these words, Thor, in a rage, laid hold of his mallet and would have launched it at him, but Utgard-Loki had disappeared, and when Thor would have returned to the city to-destroy it, he found nothing around him but a verdant plain. Proceeding, therefore, on his way, he returned without stopping to Thrudvang. But he had already resolved to make that attack on the Midgard serpent which afterwards took place. I trust," concluded Thridi, "that thou wilt now acknowledge that no one can tell thee truer tidings than those thou hast heard respecting this journey of Thor to Jotunheim." HOW THOR WENT TO FISH FOR THE MIDGARD SERPENT. 56. "I find by your account," said Gangler, "that Utgard-Loki possesses great might in himself, though he has recourse to spells and illusions; but his power may be seen by his followers, being in every respect so skillful and dexterous. But tell me, did Thor ever avenge this affront?" "It is not unknown," replied Har, "though nobody has talked of it, that Thor was determined to make amends for the journey just spoken of, and he had not been long at home ere he set out again so hastily that he had neither his car nor his goats, nor any followers with him. He went out of Midgard under the semblance of a young man, and came at dusk to the dwelling of a giant called Hymir. Here Thor passed the night, but at break of day, when he perceived that Hymir was making his boat ready for fishing, he arose and dressed himself, and begged the giant would let him row out to sea with him. Hymir answered, that a puny stripling like he was could be of no great use to him. 'Besides,' he added, 'thou wilt catch thy death of cold if I go so far out and remain so long as I am accustomed to do.' Thor said, that for all that, he would row as far from the land as Hymir had a mind, and was not sure which of them would be the first who might wish to row back again. At the same time he was so enraged that he felt sorely inclined to let his mallet ring on the giant's skull without further delay, but intending to try his strength elsewhere, he stifled his wrath, and asked Hymir what he meant to bait with. Hymir told him to look out for a bait himself. Thor instantly went up to a herd of oxen that belonged to the giant, and seizing the largest bull, that bore the name of Himinbrjot, wrung off his head, and returning with it to the boat, put out to sea with Hymir. Thor rowed aft with two oars, and with such force that Hymir, who rowed at the prow, saw with surprise, how swiftly the boat was driven forward. He then observed that they were come to the place where he was wont to angle for flat fish, but Thor assured him that they had better go on a good way further. They accordingly continued to ply their oars, until Hymir cried out that if they did not stop they would be in danger from the great Midgard serpent. Notwithstanding this, Thor persisted in rowing further, and in spite of Hymir's remonstrances was a great while before he would lay down his oars. He then took out a fishing-line, extremely strong, furnished with an equally strong hook, on which he fixed the bull's head, and cast his line into the sea. The bait soon reached the bottom, and it may be truly said that Thor then deceived the Midgard serpent not a whit less than Utgard-Loki had deceived Thor when he obliged him to lift up the serpent in his hand: for the monster greedily caught at the bait, and the hook stuck fast in his palate. Stung with the pain, the serpent tugged at the hook so violently, that Thor was obliged to hold fast with both hands by the pegs that bear against the oars. But his wrath now waxed high, and assuming all his divine power, he pulled so hard at the line that his feet forced their way through the boat and went down to the bottom of the sea, whilst with his hands he drew up the serpent to the side of the vessel. It is impossible to express by words the dreadful scene that now took place. Thor, on one hand, darting looks of ire on the serpent, whilst the monster, rearing his head, spouted out floods of venom upon him. It is said that when the giant Hymir beheld the serpent, he turned pale and trembled with fright and seeing, moreover, that the water was entering his boat on all sides, he took out his knife, just as Thor raised his mallet aloft, and cut the line, on which the serpent sunk again under the water. Thor, however, launched his mallet at him, and there are some who say that it struck off the monster's head at the bottom of the sea, but one may assert with more certainty that he still lives and lies in the ocean. Thor then struck Hymir such a blow with his fist, nigh the ear, that the giant fell headlong into the water, and Thor, wading with rapid strides, soon came to the land again." THE DEATH OF BALDUR THE GOOD. 57. "Verily," said Gangler, "it was a famous exploit which Thor performed on that journey, but did any other such events take place among the Æsir?" "Ay," replied Har, "I can tell thee of another event which the Æsir deemed of much greater importance. Thou must know, therefore, that Baldur the Good having been tormented with terrible dreams, indicating that his life was in great peril, communicated them to the assembled Æsir, who resolved to conjure all things to avert from him the threatened danger. Then Frigga exacted an oath from fire and water, from iron, and all other metals, as well as from stones, earths, diseases, beasts, birds, poisons, and creeping things, that none of them would do any harm to Baldur. When this was done, it became a favourite pastime of the Æsir, at their meetings, to get Baldur to stand up and serve them as a mark, some hurling darts at him, some stones, while others hewed at him with their swords and battle-axes, for do they what they would none of therm could harm him, and this was regarded by all as a great honour shown to Baldur. But when Loki, the son of Laufey, beheld the scene, he was sorely vexed that Baldur was not hurt. Assuming, therefore, the shape of a woman, he went to Fensalir, the mansion of Frigga. That goddess, when she saw the pretended woman, inquired of her if she knew what the Æsir were doing at their meetings. She replied, that they were throwing darts and stones at Baldur without being able to hurt him. "'Ay,' said Frigga, 'neither metal nor wood can hurt Baldur, for I have exacted an oath from all of them.' "'What!' exclaimed the woman, 'have all things sworn to spare Baldur?' "'All things,' replied Frigga, 'except one little shrub that grows on the eastern side of Valhalla, and is called Mistletoe, and which I thought too young and feeble to crave an oath from.' "As soon as Loki heard this he went away, and, resuming his natural shape, cut off the mistletoe, and repaired to the place where the gods were assembled. There he found Hodur standing apart, without partaking of the sports, on account of his blindness, and going up to him, said, 'Why dost thou not also throw something at Baldur?" "'Because I am blind,' answered Hodur, 'and see not where Baldur is, and have, moreover, nothing to throw with.' "'Come then,' said Loki, 'do like the rest, and show honour to Baldur by throwing this twig at him, and I will direct thy arm, toward the place where he stands.' 58. "Hodur then took the mistletoe, and under the guidance of Loki, darted it at Baldur, who, pierced through and through, fell down lifeless. Surely never was there witnessed, either among gods or men, a more atrocious deed than this! When Baldur fell the Æsir were struck speechless with horror, and then they looked at each other, and all were of one mind to lay hands on him who had done the deed, but they were obliged to delay their vengeance out of respect for the sacred place (Peace-stead) where they were assembled. They at length gave vent to their grief by loud lamentations, though not one of them could find words to express the poignancy of his feelings. Odin, especially, was more sensible than the others of the loss they had suffered, for he foresaw what a detriment Baldur's death would be to the Æsir. When the gods came to themselves, Frigga asked who among them wished to gain all her love and good will; 'For this,' said she, 'shall he have who will ride to Hel and try to find Baldur, and offer Hela a ransom if she will let him return to Asgard;' whereupon Hermod, surnamed the Nimble, the son of Odin, offered to undertake the journey. Odin's horse Sleipnir was then led forth, on which Hermod mounted, and galloped away on his mission. 59. "The Æsir then took the dead body and bore it to the seashore, where stood Baldur's ship Hringhorn, which passed for the largest in the world. But when they wanted to launch it in order to make Baldur's funeral pile on it, they were unable to make it stir. In this conjuncture they sent to Jotunheim for a certain giantess named Hyrrokin, who came mounted on a wolf, having twisted serpents for a bridle. As soon as she alighted, Odin ordered four Berserkir to hold her steed fast, who were, however, obliged to throw the animal on the ground ere they could effect their purpose. Hyrrokin then went to the ship, and with a single push set it afloat, but the motion was so violent that the fire sparkled from the rollers, and the earth shook all around. Thor, enraged at the sight, grasped his mallet, and but for the interference of the Æsir would have broken the woman's skull. Baldur's body was then borne to the funeral pile on board the ship, and this ceremony had such an effect on Nanna, the daughter of Nep, that her heart broke with grief, and her body was burnt on the same pile with her husband's. Thor then stood up and hallowed the pile with Mjolnir, and during the ceremony kicked a dwarf named Litur, who was running before his feet, into the fire. There was a vast concourse of various kinds of people at Baldur's obsequies. First came Odin, accompanied by Frigga, the Valkyrjor and his ravens; then Frey in his car drawn by a boar named Gullinbursti or Slidrugtanni; Heimdall rode his horse called Gulltopp, and Freyja drove in her chariot drawn by cats. There were also a great many Frost-giants and giants of the mountains present. Odin laid on the pile the gold ring called Draupnir, which afterwards acquired the property of producing every ninth night eight rings of equal weight. Baldur's horse was led to the pile fully caparisoned, and consumed in the same flames on the body of his master. BALDUR IN THE ABODE OF THE DEAD 60. "Meanwhile, Hermod was proceeding on his mission. For the space of nine days, and as many nights, he rode through deep glens so dark that he could not discern anything until he arrived at the river Gjoll, which he passed over on a bridge covered with glittering gold. Modgudur, the maiden who kept the bridge, asked him his name and lineage, telling him that the day before five bands of dead persons had ridden over the bridge, and did not shake it so much as he alone. 'But,' she added, 'thou hast not death's hue on thee, why then ridest them here on the way to Hel?' "'I ride to Hel,' answered Hermod, 'to seek Baldur. Hast thou perchance seen him pass this way?' "'Baldur,' she replied, 'hath ridden over Gjoll's bridge, but there below, towards the north, lies the way to the abodes of death.' "Hermod then pursued his journey until he came to the barred gates of Hel. Here he alighted, girthed his saddle tighter, and remounting, clapped both spurs to his horse, who cleared the gate by a tremendous leap without touching it. Hermod then rode on to the palace, where he found his brother Baldur occupying the most distinguished seat in the hall, and passed the night in his company. The next morning he besought Hela (Death) to let Baldur ride home with him, assuring her that nothing but lamentations were to be heard among the gods. Hela answered that it should now be tried whether Baldur was so beloved as he was said to be. "'If therefore,' she added, 'all things in the world, both living and lifeless, weep for him, then shall he return to the Æsir, but if any one thing speak against him or refuse to weep, he shall be kept in Hel.' "Hermod then rose, and Baldur led him out of the hall and gave him the ring Draupnir, to present as a keepsake to Odin. Nanna also sent Frigga a linen cassock and other gifts, and to Fulla a gold finger-ring. Hermod then rode back to Asgard, and gave an account of all he had heard and witnessed. "The gods upon this dispatched messengers throughout the world, to beg everything to weep, in order that Baldur might be delivered from Hel. All things very willingly complied with this request, both men and every other living being, as well as earths and stones, and trees and metals, just as thou must have seen these things weep when they are brought from a cold place into a hot one. As the messengers were returning with the conviction that their mission had been quite successful, they found an old hag named Thaukt sitting in a cavern, and begged her to weep Baldur out of Hel. "It was strongly suspected that this hag was no other than Loki himself who never ceased to work evil among the Æsir." THE FLIGHT AND PUNISHMENT OF LOKI. 61. "Evil are the deeds of Loki truly," said Gangler; "first of all in his having caused Baldur to be slain, and then preventing him from being delivered out of Hel. But was he not punished for these crimes?" "Ay," replied Har, "and in such a manner that he will long repent having committed them. When he perceived how exasperated the gods were, he fled and hid himself in the mountains. There he built him a dwelling with four doors, so that he could see everything that passed around him. Often in the daytime he assumed the likeness of a salmon, and concealed himself under the waters of a cascade called Franangursfors, where he employed himself in divining and circumventing whatever stratagems the Æsir might have recourse to in order to catch him. One day, as he sat in his dwelling, he took flax and yarn, and worked them into meshes in the manner that nets have since been made by fishermen. Odin, however, had descried his retreat out of Hlidskjalf, and Loki becoming aware that the gods were approaching, threw his net into the fire, and ran to conceal himself in the river. When the gods entered the house, Kvasir, who was the most distinguished among them all for his quickness and penetration, traced out in the hot embers the vestiges of the net which had been burnt, and told Odin that it must be an invention to catch fish. Whereupon they set to work and wove a net after the model they saw imprinted in the ashes. This net, when finished, they threw into the river in which Loki had hidden himself. Thor held one end of the net, and all the other gods laid hold of the other end, thus jointly drawing it along the stream. Notwithstanding all their precautions the net passed over Loki, who had crept between two stones, and the gods only perceived that some living thing had touched the meshes. They therefore cast their net a second time, hanging so great a weight to it that it everywhere raked the bed of the river. But Loki, perceiving that he had but a short distance from the sea, swam onwards and leapt over the net into the waterfall. The Æsir instantly followed him, and divided themselves into two bands. Thor, wading along in mid-stream, followed the net, whilst the others dragged it along towards the sea. Loki then perceived that he had only two chances of escape, either to swim out to sea, or to leap again over the net. He chose the latter, but as he took a tremendous leap Thor caught him in his hand. Being, however, extremely slippery, he would have escaped had not Thor held him fast by the tail, and this is the reason why salmons have had their tails ever since so fine and thin. "The gods having thus captured Loki, dragged him without commiseration into a cavern, wherein they placed three sharp-pointed rocks, boring a hole through each of them. Having also seized Loki's children, Vali and Nari, they changed the former into a wolf, and in this likeness he tore his brother to pieces and devoured him. The gods then made cords of his intestines, with which they bound Loki on the points of the rocks, one cord passing under his shoulders, another under his loins, and a third under his hams, and afterwards transformed these cords into thongs of iron. Skadi then suspended a serpent over him in such a manner that the venom should fall on his face, drop by drop. But Siguna, his wife, stands by him and receives the drops as they fall in a cup, which she empties as often as it is filled. But while she is doing this, venom falls upon Loki, which makes him howl with horror, and twist his body about so violently that the whole earth shakes, and this produces what men call earthquakes. There will Loki lie until Ragnarok." OF RAGNAROK, OR THE TWILIGHT OE THE GODS, AND THE CONFLAGRATION OF THE UNIVERSE. 63. "I have not heard before of Ragnarok," said Gangler; "what hast thou to tell me about it?" "There are many very notable circumstances concerning it," replied Har, "which I can inform thee of. In the first place will come the winter, called Fimbul-winter, during which snow will fall from the four corners of the world; the frosts will be very severe, the wind piercing, the weather tempestuous, and the sun impart no gladness. Three such winters shall pass away without being tempered by a single summer. Three other similar winters follow, during which war and discord will spread over the whole globe. Brethren for the sake of mere gain shall kill each other, and no one shall spare either his parents or his children. 64. "Then shall happen such things as may truly be accounted great prodigies. The wolf shall devour the sun, and a severe loss will that be for mankind. The other wolf will take the moon, and this too will cause great mischief. Then the stars shall be hurled from the heavens, and the earth so violently shaken that trees will be torn up by the roots, the tottering mountains tumble headlong from their foundations, and all bonds and fetters be shivered in pieces. Fenrir then breaks loose, and the sea rushes over the earth, on account of the Midgard serpent turning with giant force, and gaining the land. On the waters floats the ship Naglfar, which is constructed of the nails of dead men. For which reason great care should be taken to die with pared nails, for he who dies with his nails unpared, supplies materials for the building of this vessel, which both gods and men wish may be finished as late as possible. But in this flood shall Naglfar float, and the giant Hrym be its steersman. "The wolf Fenrir advancing, opens his enormous mouth; the lower jaw reaches to the earth, and the upper one to heaven, and would in fact reach still farther were there space to admit of it. Fire flashes from his eyes and nostrils. The Midgard serpent, placing himself by the side of the wolf, vomits forth floods of poison which overwhelm the air and the waters. Amidst this devastation heaven is cleft in twain, and the sons of Muspell ride through the breach. Surtur rides first, and both before and behind him flames burning fire. His sword outshines the sun itself. Bifrost, as they ride over it, breaks to pieces. Then they direct their course to the battlefield called Vigrid. Thither also repair the wolf Fenrir and the Midgard serpent, and also Loki, with all the followers of Hel, and Hrym with all the Hrimthursar. But the sons of Muspell keep their effulgent bands apart on the field of battle, which is one hundred miles long on every side. 65. "Meanwhile Heimdall stands up, and with all his force sounds the Gjallar-horn to arouse the gods, who assemble without delay. Odin then rides to Mimir's well and consults Mimir how he and his warriors ought to enter into action. The ash Yggdrasill begins to shake, nor is there anything in heaven or earth exempt from fear at that terrible hour. The Æsir and all the heroes of Valhalla arm themselves and speed forth to the field, led on by Odin, with his golden helm and resplendent cuirass, and his spear called Gungnir. Odin places himself against the wolf Fenrir; Thor stands by his side, but can render him no assistance, having himself to combat with the Midgard serpent. Frey encounters Surtur, and terrible blows are exchanged ere Frey falls; and he owes his defeat to his not having that trusty sword he gave to Skirnir. That day the dog Garm, who had been chained in the Gnipa cave, breaks loose. He is the most fearful monster of all, and attacks Tyr, and they kill each other. Thor gains great renown for killing the Midgard serpent, but at the same time, recoiling nine paces, falls dead upon the spot suffocated by the floods of venom which the dying serpent vomits forth upon him. The wolf swallows Odin, but at that instant Vidar advances, and setting his foot on the monster's lower jaw, seizes the other with his hand, and thus tears and rends him till he dies. Vidar is able to do this because he wears those shoes for which stuff has been gathering in all ages, namely, the shreds of leather which are cut off to form the toes and heels of shoes, and it is on this account that those who would render a service to the Æsir should take care to throw such shreds away. Loki and Heimdall fight, and mutually kill each other. "After this, Surtur darts fire and flame over the earth, and the whole universe is consumed." OF THE ABODES OF FUTURE BLISS AND MISERY. 66. "What will remain," said Gangler, "after heaven and earth and the whole universe shall be consumed, and after all the gods, and the heroes of Valhalla, and all mankind shall have perished? For ye have already told me that every one shall continue to exist in some world or other, throughout eternity." "There will be many abodes," replied Thridi, "some good, others bad. The best place of all to be in will be Gimli, in heaven, and all who delight in quaffing good drink will find a great store in the hall called Brimir, which is also in heaven in the region Okolni. There is also a fair hall of ruddy gold called Sindri, which stands on the mountains of Nida, (Nidafjoll). In those halls righteous and well-minded men shall abide. In Nastrond there is a vast and direful structure with doors that face the north. It is formed entirely of the backs of serpents, wattled together like wicker work. But the serpents' heads are turned towards the inside of the hall, and continually vomit forth floods of venom, in which wade all those who-commit murder, or who forswear themselves." THE RENOVATION OF THE UNIVERSE. 67. "Will any of the gods survive, and will there be any longer a heaven and an earth?" demanded Gangler. "There will arise out of the sea," replied Har, "another earth most lovely and verdant, with pleasant fields where the grain shall grow unsown. Vidar and Vali shall survive; neither the flood nor Surtur's fire shall harm them. They shall dwell on the plain of Ida, where Asgard formerly stood. Thither shall come the sons of Thor, Modi and Magni, bringing with them their father's mallet Mjolnir. Baldur and Hodur shall also repair thither from the abode of death (Hel). There shall they sit and converse together, and call to mind their former knowledge and the perils they underwent, and the fight of the wolf Fenrir and the Midgard serpent. There too shall they find in the grass those golden tablets (orbs) which the Æsir once possessed. As it is said,-- "'There dwell Vidar and Vali In the gods' holy seats, When slaked Surtur's fire is But Modi and Magni Will Mjolnir possess, And strife put an end to.' "Thou must know, moreover, that during the conflagration caused by Surtur's fire, a woman named Lif (Life), and a man named Lifthrasir, lie concealed in Hodmimir's forest. They shall feed on morning dew, and their descendants shall soon spread over the whole earth. "But what thou wilt deem more wonderful is, that the sun shall have brought forth a daughter more lovely than herself, who shall go in the same track formerly trodden by her mother. "And now," continued Thridi, "if thou hast any further questions to ask, I know not who can answer thee, for I never heard tell of any one who could relate what will happen in the other ages of the world. Make, therefore, the best use thou canst of what has been imparted to thee." Upon this Gangler heard a terrible noise all around him: he looked everywhere, but could see neither palace nor city, nor anything save a vast plain. He therefore set out on his return to his own kingdom, where he related all that he had seen and heard, and ever since that time these tidings have been handed down by oral tradition. ÆGIR'S JOURNEY TO ASGARD. 68. Ægir, who was well skilled in magic, once went to Asgard, where he met with a very good reception. Supper time being come, the twelve mighty Æsir,--Odin, Thor, Njord, Frey, Tyr, Heimdall, Bragi, Vidar, Vali, Ullur, Hoenir and Forseti, together with the Asynjor,--Frigga, Freyja, Gefjon, Iduna, Gerda, Siguna, Fulla and Nanna, seated themselves on their lofty doom seats, in a hall around which were ranged swords of such surpassing brilliancy that no other light was requisite. They continued long at table, drinking mead of a very superior quality. While they were emptying their capacious drinking horns, Ægir, who sat next to Bragi, requested him to relate something concerning the Æsir. Bragi instantly complied with his request, by informing him of what had happened to Iduna. IDUNA AND HER APPLES. 69. "Once," he said, "when Odin, Loki, and Hoenir went on a journey, they came to a valley where a herd of oxen were grazing, and being sadly in want of provisions did not scruple to kill one for their supper. Vain, however, were their efforts to boil the flesh; they found it, every time they took off the lid of the kettle, as raw as when first put in. While they were endeavouring to account for this singular circumstance a noise was heard above them, and on looking up they beheld an enormous eagle perched on the branch of an oak tree. 'If ye are willing to let me have my share of the flesh,' said the eagle, 'it shall soon be boiled;' and on their assenting to this proposal, it flew down and snatched up a leg and two shoulders of the ox--a proceeding which so incensed Loki, that he laid hold of a large stock, and made it fall pretty heavily on the eagle's back. It was, however, not an eagle that Loki struck, but the renowned giant Thjassi, clad in his eagle plumage. Loki soon found this out to his cost, for while one end of the stock stuck fast to the eagle's back, he was unable to let go his hold of the other end, and was consequently trailed by the eagle-clad giant over rocks and forests, until he was almost torn to pieces. Loki in this predicament began to sue for peace, but Thjassi told him that he should never be released from his hold until he bound himself by a solemn oath to bring Iduna and her apples out of Asgard. Loki very willingly gave his oath to effect this object, and went back in a piteous plight to his companions. 70. "On his return to Asgard, Loki told Iduna that, in a forest at a short distance from the celestial residence, he had found apples growing which he thought were of a much better quality than her own, and that at all events it was worth while making a comparison between them. Iduna, deceived by his words, took her apples, and went with him into the forest, but they had no sooner entered it than Thjassi, clad in his eagle-plumage, flew rapidly towards them, and catching up Iduna, carried her treasure off with him to Jotunheim. The gods being thus deprived of their renovating apples, soon became wrinkled and grey; old age was creeping fast upon them, when they discovered that Loki had been, as usual, the contriver of all the mischief that had befallen them. They therefore threatened him with condign punishment if he did not instantly hit upon some expedient for bringing back Iduna and her apples to Asgard. Loki having borrowed from Freyja her falcon-plumage, flew to Jotunheim, and finding that Thjassi was out at sea fishing, lost no time in changing Iduna into a sparrow and flying off with her; but when Thjassi returned and became aware of what had happened, he donned his eagle-plumage, and flew after them. When the Æsir saw Loki approaching, holding Iduna transformed into a sparrow between his claws, and Thjassi with his outspread eagle wings ready to overtake him, they placed on the walls of Asgard bundles of chips, which they set fire to the instant that Loki had flown over them; and as Thjassi could not stop his flight, the fire caught his plumage, and he thus fell into the power of the Æsir, who slew him within the portals of the celestial residence. When these tidings came to Thjassi's daughter, Skadi, she put on her armour and went to Asgard, fully determined to avenge her father's death; but the Æsir having declared their willingness to atone for the deed, an amicable arrangement was entered into. Skadi was to choose a husband in Asgard, and the Æsir were to make her laugh, a feat which she flattered herself it would be impossible for any one to accomplish. Her choice of a husband was to be determined by a mere inspection of the feet of the gods, it being stipulated that the feet should be the only part of their persons visible until she had made known her determination. In inspecting the row of feet placed before her, Skadi took a fancy to a pair which she flattered herself, from their fine proportions, must be those of Baldur. They were however Njord's, and Njord was accordingly given her for a husband, and as Loki managed to make her laugh, by playing some diverting antics with a goat, the atonement was fully effected. It is even said that Odin did more than had been stipulated, by taking out Thjassi's eyes, and placing them to shine as stars in the firmament.[137] THE ORIGIN OF POETRY. 71. Ægir having expressed a wish to know how poetry originated, Bragi informed him that the Æsir and Vanir having met to put an end to the war which had long been carried on between them, a treaty of peace was agreed to and ratified by each party spitting into a jar. As a lasting sign of the amity which was thenceforward to subsist between the contending parties, the gods formed out of this spittle a being to whom they gave the name of Kvasir, and whom they endowed with such a high degree of intelligence that no one could ask him a question that he was unable to answer. Kvasir then traversed the whole world to teach men wisdom, but was at length treacherously murdered by the dwarfs, Fjalar and Galar, who, by mixing up his blood with honey, composed a liquor of such surpassing excellence that whoever drinks of it acquires the gift of song. When the Æsir inquired what had become of Kvasir, the dwarfs told them that he had been suffocated with his own wisdom, not being able to find any one who by proposing to him a sufficient number of learned questions might relieve him of its superabundance. Not long after this event, Fjalar and Galar managed to drown the giant Gilling and murder his wife, deeds which were avenged by their son Suttung taking the dwarfs out to sea, and placing them on a shoal which was flooded at high water. In this critical position they implored Suttung to spare their lives, and accept the verse-inspiring beverage which they possessed as an atonement for their having killed his parents. Suttung having agreed to these conditions, released the dwarfs, and carrying the mead home with him, committed it to the care of his daughter Gunnlauth. Hence poetry is indifferently called Kvasir's blood, Suttung's mead, the dwarf's ransom, etc. ODIN BEGUILES THE DAUGHTER OF BAUGI 72. Æsir then asked how the gods obtained possession of so valuable a beverage, on which Bragi informed him that Odin being fully determined to acquire it, set out for Jotunheim, and after journeying for some time, came to a meadow in which nine thralls were mowing. Entering into conversation with them, Odin, offered to whet their scythes, an offer which they gladly accepted, and finding that the whetstone he made use of had given the scythes an extraordinary sharpness, asked him whether he was willing to dispose of it. Odin, however, threw the whetstone in the air, and in attempting to catch it as it fell, each thrall brought his scythe to bear on the neck of one of his comrades, so that they were all killed in the scramble. Odin took up his night's lodging at the house of Suttung's brother, Baugi, who told him that he was sadly at a loss for labourers, his nine thralls having slain each other. Odin, who went under the name of Baulverk, said that for a draught of Suttung's mead he would do the work of nine men for him. The terms agreed on, Odin worked for Baugi the whole summer, but Suttung was deaf to his brother's entreaties, and would not part with a drop of the precious liquor, which was carefully preserved in a cavern under his daughter's custody. Into this cavern Odin was resolved to penetrate. He therefore persuaded Baugi to bore a hole through the rock, which he had no sooner done than Odin, transforming himself into a worm, crept through the crevice, and resuming his natural shape, won the heart of Gunnlauth. After passing three nights with the fair maiden, he had no great difficulty in inducing her to let him take a draught out of each of the three jars, called Odhroerir, Bodn, and Son, in which the mead was kept. But wishing to make the most of his advantage, he pulled so deep that not a drop was left in the vessels. Transforming himself into an eagle, he then flew off as fast as his wings could carry him, but Suttung becoming aware of the stratagem, also took upon himself an eagle's guise, and flew after him. The Æsir, on seeing him approach Asgard, set out in the yard all the jars they could lay their hands on, which Odin filled by discharging through his beak the wonder-working liquor he had drunken. He was however, so near being caught by Suttung, that some of the liquor escaped him by an impurer vent, and as no care was taken of this it fell to the share of the poetasters. But the liquor discharged in the jars was kept for the gods, and for those men who have sufficient wit to make a right use of it. Hence poetry is also called Odin's booty, Odin's gift, the beverage of the gods, &c, &c. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 125: This chapter is probably the interpolation of an early copyist, for it has evidently no connection with the following one, and is not found in the Upsal MS. of the Prose Edda, which is supposed to be the oldest extant. Gefjon's ploughing is obviously a mythic way of accounting for some convulsions of nature, perhaps the convulsion that produced the Sound, and thus effected a junction between the Baltic and the Northern Ocean.] [Footnote 126: Rime Giants, or Giants of the Frost.] [Footnote 127: Literally, "It is light and hot, insomuch so that it is flaming and burning, and it is impervious to those who are outlandish (foreign), and not indigenous there" (or who have no home or heritage therein).] [Footnote 128: More properly speaking, to the earth which it encircled.] [Footnote 129: A ferreous or glacial refrigeration.] [Footnote 130: _i.e._ If Thor drove over Bifrost with his thunder chariot.] [Footnote 131: _i.e._ Present, Past, and Future.] [Footnote 132: Namely, his having killed Baldur.] [Footnote 133: Mind or Thought, and Memory.] [Footnote 134: _i.e._ Devouring flame.] [Footnote 135: _i.e._ Spirit or thought.] [Footnote 136: _i.e._ Eld or Old Age.] [Footnote 137: Finn Magnusen's explanation of this myth is, that Iduna--the ever-renovating Spring--being in the possession of Thjassi--the desolating winter--all nature languishes until she is delivered from her captivity. On this being effected, her presence again diffuses joy and gladness, and all things revive; while her pursuer, Winter, with his icy breath, dissolves in the solar rays indicated by the fires lighted on the walls of Asgard.] GLOSSARY. ÆGIR or OEGIR, horror, terror. ÆSIR, sing. AS; God, Gods. ASYNJA, ASYNJOR; Goddess, Goddesses. AI, from a, a river. ALFADIR, or ALFODUR, All-Father, or the Father of All. ALFR, Elf. ALSVIDR, All-scorching. ALTHJOFR, lit. All-thief, an accomplished rascal. ALVISS, All-wise. AMSVARTNIR, grief, black, gloomy, swart. ANDHRIMNIR, soul, spirit, breath: from hrim, congealed vapour, _rime_. ANDLANGR, from aund, spirit, breath; and langr, long. ANDVARI, prob. from aund, spirit; cautious, timid. ANGURBODI, Anguish-boding, announcing or presaging calamity. ARVAKR, awakening early; ar, the dawn, Aurora. ASGARD, prop. ASGARDR, lit. God's-ward, or the abode of the gods. ASKR, an ash-tree. AUDHUMLA, void, vacuity, darkness, tenebrosity. AUDR, rich, wealthy. AURBODA, prop. AURBODA, snow, rain, storm; to announce whence; a messenger; hence an ambassador. AUSTRI, East, Oriental. BALDUR, prop. BALDR or BALLDR, fire, flame, bold. BALEYGR, Bale-eyed, _i.e._ endowed with a clear, piercing vision. BAREY, the Frondiferous-isle; an island. BAULVERKR, Evil-worker; producing evil, calamity. BAUMBURR, prob. cog. with bumbr, belly, cavity. BELI, prob. from belja, to bellow. BERGELMIR, Mountain-old, _i.e._ the old man of the mountain. BIFLINDI, the Inconstant: from bif, motion; and lyndi, disposition, mind. BIFROST, BIF-RAUST, the Tremulous-bridge of the Aerial-bridge, signifying also aerial: a certain space, a mile, a rest. BIL, a moment, an interval, an interstice. BILEYGR, endowed with fulminating eyes, a tempest, especially a fulminating tempest or thunder-storm. BILSKIRNIR, sometimes stormy, and sometimes serene; which, as Thor's mansion prob. denotes the atmosphere, would be a very appropriate term; or storm-stilling, _i.e._ imparting serenity to the tempest. BIVAURR, BIVORR, or BIFUR, the Tremulous. BODN, originally signified an offer-table or altar; an oblation; also one of the jars in which the dwarfs' poetical beverage was kept. BOLTHORN, lit. Calamitous or Evil-thorn. BOR, prop. BORR, and BUR, prop. BURR or BURI, means _born_, to bear; whence also the _Old G._ barn, and the _Scotch, bairn_, a child. BRAGI, the name of the God of Poetry; from braga, to glisten, to shine, or from bragga, to adorn; ph. cog. with _G_. pracht, splendour. BREIDABLIK: lit. Broad-blink--wide-glancing, Expanded splendour, to blink. BRIMIR, prob. from brimi, flame. BRISINGR, may prob. mean flaming. BYLEISTR, a dwelling, a town; to destroy, to break to pieces. BYRGIR, prob. from v. byrgja, to conceal; _E._ to bury, whence barrow, a tumulus. DAINN, prob. the Soporiferous; from da, a swoon, or complete repose. DELLINGR--a _day-ling_. with the dawn, daybreak. DIS, pi. DISIR, it originally sig. a female, but was afterwards used in the sense of Nymph and Goddess. It enters into the composition of several female names, as Thordis, Freydis, Vegdis, &c. DOLGTHRASIR: a dolgr, a warrior; contentious, obstinate, persisting, from the v. thrasa, to litigate, to quarrel. DRAUPNIR, from the v. drupa, to droop, or the v. drjupa, to drip. DROMI, strongly binding. DUNEYRR, a hollow sound, from the v. dynja, to sound, to resound. DURATHROR. The first sylb. may be derived either from dur, a light sleep, or from dyr, a door; and the last, either from the v. threyja, to expect, to wait for; or from throa, to increase, to enlarge. DURINN, prob. from dur, a light sleep, to fall asleep; whence prob. the _E._ to doze, and ph. also dusk. DVALJNN, from dvali, sleep. EIKINSKJALDI, furnished with an oaken shield, scarlet oak. EIKTHYRNIR. Eik is the ilex or scarlet oak; thyrnir, a thorn; metaphorically for a stag's antlers. EINHERJAR, a hero; select, chosen heroes. EIR, to befriend, to tranquilize. ELDHRIMNIR: eldr, elementary flre: brim, congealed vapour, rime, also soot; hence (a kettle) sooty from flre. ELIVAGAR, stormy waves; a storm; the sea; an estuary; water; wave. ELLI, old age. ELVIDNIR, ph. from el, a storm; and vidr, wide. EMBLA. The etymologies of the name of the first woman given by the _E.E._ are merely _conjectural_. Grimm says the word embla, emla, signifies a busy woman, from amr, ambr, amil ambl, assiduous labour; the same relation as Meshia and Meshiane, the ancient Persian names of the first man and woman, who were also formed from trees. FALHOFNIR, a nail, a lamina, hoof. FARMAGUD, the God of Carriers and Sea-farers. FENRIR, FENRIS-ULFR, may mean dweller in an abyss, or the monster wolf. FENSALIR, lit. Fen-saloon, from fen, a fen, but which it would appear may also be made to sig. the watery deep, or the sea; and salr, a hall, mansion, saloon. _See_ Valhalla. FIMBUL. From fimbulfambi comes the _E._ provincialism, to fimble-famble; and the _D._ famle, to stammer, to hesitate in speaking. FIMBULTHUL. Thulr means an orator or reciter, to speechify. FIMBULVETR: vetr, winter; according to Grimm's explanation of fimbul, _the Great Winter_. FJALARR and FJOLNIR. Multiform: in composition fjol, many. FJOLSVIDR or FJOLSVITHR, to scorch: or ph. from svithr, wise, powerful, potent, strong. FJORGYN. Grimm, we think, has satisfactorily shown that fjorg is the _G._ berg, a mountain. FOLKVANGR, lit. the folk's field, or habitation. FORSETI, lit. the Fore-seated, _i.e._ the Judge. FRANANGURS-FORS, prob. from frann, glittering, and ongr, narrow. FREKI, _G._ frech, froward: the word has also the sig. of voracious. FREYR and FREYJA. The name of the deity who was the symbol of the sun--to mean Seminator, the Fructifler, Freyja--the symbolical representation of the moon--means the Seminated, the Fructified; the original sig, is that of glad, joyful, imparting gladness, beautous, lovely. FRIGGA, prop. FRIGG. Grimm has shown that the root of this word is, if not strictly syn., at least very nearly allied with that of the word Freyja, and explains it to mean the Free, the Beauteous, the Winsome. FROSTI, the _E._ frosty. FULLA, abundance; from fullr, full. FUNDINN, found; from v. finna, to find. GANDALFR. Alfr, an elf, prob. sig. a wolf, a serpent. GANGLER, the tired wanderer; to debilitate, to tire. GANGRAD, prop. GANGRADR, indicates a person directing his steps. GARDROFA, Fence-breaker; to break, to break through. GARMR, voracious; to gorge; gourmand. GAUTR, ph. may sig. a keeper, to keep. GEFJON, the earth; also separation, disruption. GEFN, from the v. gefa, to give. GEIROLUL, lit. Spear-alimentrix: from the v. ala, to aliment, to nourish. GEIRRAUDR, lit. spear-red; hence King Spear-rubifler. GEIRVIMUL, a river rushing or vibrating like a spear or javelin. GELGJA, from galgi, a gallows. GERDA, prop. GERDUR, to gird. Both gerd and gard are common terminations of female names, as Hildigard, Irminigard, Thorgerda, &c. GERI. Geri may be derived from gerr, covetous, greedy. GIMLI, had the same sig. as himill, heaven, the original sig. of which may have been fire, but afterwards a gem, as in the _N._ word gimsteinn; whence also our colloquial words, gim, gimmy (neat), and gimcrack. GINNARR, Seducer; from v. ginna, to seduce. GINNUNGA-GAP may be rendered the gap of gaps; a gaping abyss. GJALLAR (horn); from the v. gjalla, to resound, to clang; to yell. GJOIX, prob. from gjallr, sonorous, fulgid. GLADR, glad; from v. gledja, to gladden. GLADSHEIMR: lit. Glad's-home; the abode of gladness or bliss. GLÆR, from glær, clear, pellucid; cog. with _E._ glare. GLEIPNIR, the Devouring; from the v. gleipa, to devour. GLITNIR, the Glittering; from the v. glitra; to glitter, and to glisten. GLOINN, the Glowing; from v. gloa, to glow. GOD. The _Old N._ lang. has two words for God, viz. God and Gud; and it would appear that the n. god was used for an idol, and the m. gud. for a God. Both words are, however, frequently applied to denote a celestial deity. The Scandinavian Pontiff-chieftains were called Godar (in the sing. Godi). GOMUL, prob. from gamall, old. GRABAKR, Gray-back. GRAFJOLLUDR, Gray-skin; the skin of an animal. GRAFVITNIR, from the v. grafa, to dig, to delve; cog. with _E._ grave: and the v. vita, to know; _to_ wit, wist, wot. GRIMAR, and GRIMNIR, a helmet, or any kind of a covering; used poetically for night, the sun being then veiled or covered. GULLINBURSTI, Golden-bristles. GULLTOPPR, Golden-mane; crest, the top of anything, hence mane. GUNNTHRA. The first sylb. of this word is from gunnr, war, a combat; to increase, to enlarge; thra sig. grief, calamity; and thro, a cavity, a fosse. From gunnr is derived the _N._ gunn-fani, a war-banner. GYLLIR, from gull, gold. HABROK. The E.E. render this word by _Altipes_, from bar, high; and brok, lit. breeches, brogues, but which they assume may also sig. a bird's leg. HALLINSKITHI, to decline; hence it would be an appropriate term for the post-meridian sun. HAMSKEKPIR, prob. from hams, hide; and the v. skerpa, to sharpen, also to dry, to indurate. HAPTAGUD, ph. from haupt, a nexus, a tie, a band. HAR, prop. HARR, may mean either _high_ or _hairy_. As a designation of Odin it has undoubtedly the former signification. As the name of a dwarf, the latter sig. would be more appropriate. HARBARDR, Hairy-beard. HEIDRUN, serene, etherial; a heath. HEIMDALLR: heimr, home, the world. HELA, prop. HEL., gen. HELJAR, the Goddess of the Infernal Regions, used instead of Helheimr for those regions themselves. HELBLINDI: hel, see the preceding word; blindi, from blundr, slumber. HEPTI, prob. means impeding, constraining; to seize, to take by force, to adhere to. HERFJOTUR, lit. Host's-fetter, _i.e._ having the power to impede or constrain an army at will: her, an army, a host, a multitude. HERJANN, the leader of an army; from her. HERMOD, prop. HERMODR: her from her, courage, (_see_ Modgudur). HERTEITR, gay amongst warriors, a jovial soldier; glad, joyful. HILDUR (Hilda), war, a combat. Hence we find it in a number of Teutonic prop, names both m. and f., as Hilderic, Childeric, Hildegrim (the Helm of War), Brynhildr (Brunhilda), Clothild (Clothilda), &c. HIMINBJORG, the Heavenly-Mountains, the Comprehending, the All-embracing. HIMINBRJOTR, Heaven-breaking: from the v. brjota, to break. HJALMBERI, Helmet-bearing. HJUKI, to keep warm, to nourish, to cherish. HLIDSKJALF, a slope, a declivity; also to waver, to tremble. HLINA, prop. HLIN, the _support_ on which a person leans, _i.e._ a tutelary deity. HLJODALFR, the Genius or Elf of Sound. HLODYN, the name of Frigga, as the symbol of the earth; _protectress of the hearth_--of the household. The Romans also worshipped a goddess of the earth and of fire under the common name of Fornax, dea fornacalis. Grimm mentions a stone found at Cleves with the remarkable inscription--DEAE HLUDANAE SACRVM C. TIBERIVS VERVS, and remarks that Hludana was neither a Roman nor a Celtic goddess, and could be no other than Hlodyn, which shows the identity of the German and Scandinavian Mythology. HLOKK, or HLAUKK, to exalt, to clang, to cry like an eagle. HNIKARR, or NIKARR, victor, a conqueror; to move, to agitate; to thrust forward, to take by violence; to repel, to impede. _G._ m. Nix, fern. Nixe, an aquatic genius. We may remark that the monks having transformed Odin into the devil, our designation of his Satanic Majesty, as _Old Nick_ appears to be a mere corruption of these appellations of the Teutonic divinity. HNOSSA, a ball of yarn, a clew of thread, a knot. HODUR, prop. HODR. Grimm thinks that the original signification may have been war, combat. HOFVARPNIR, a horse that plies well its hoofs, a good goer. HRÆSVELGUR, lit. Raw-swallower, _i.e._ swallowing raw flesh like an eagle. HRAFNAGUD, the Ravens' god; brafn; _G._ rabe; _E._ raven. HRIMFAXI: brim, rime, or hoar frost; fax, a crest, a mane. The _E._ prop, name Fairfax, means fair-haired. HRIMTHURSAR, the Rim or Frost Giants: thurs, a giant. HRINGHORN, lit. a ringed or annulated horn. HRIST, from v. hrista, to shake, to agitate. HRYM, HRYMUR, prob. from brim, rime--hoar frost. HUGI, and HUGINN, from hugr, spirit, breath, thought, mind, reason. HVERGELMIR, the roaring cauldron; a spring of hot water. HYRROKIN, lit. Smoky-fire; utter darkness, also smoke. IDAVOLLR: vollr, a field, a place; to flow together; to ramble, to take a pleasant walk. IDUNA, prop. IDUNN or ITHUNN. May mean one who loves either the confluence of waters, or to work, or to take a pleasant ramble. JAFNHAR. _The Equally High_; lit. even so high. JARNVIDR, Iron-wood. JORD, JORTH, the earth. JORMUNGANDR. Gandr sig. serpent, and more prop, wolf: jormun is a word of uncertain origin, but appears in all the anc. Teutonic lang. to have expressed the idea of great, maximus, universal. The reader will find much curious information on this subject in Grimm's admirable work. JOTUNHEIMR, lit. Giants'-home, the region of the Giants. KERLAUG: ker, any kind of vessel, cup, bowl, &c; also used to denote the bed of a river. KJALARR, prob. from v. kjala, to transport, to convey; a ship, _a keel_. KVASIR. This word seems to be used in the sense of a _drinking bout._ LAUFEY, lit. Frondiferous-isle; an island. LETTFETI, Lightfoot: light. LIFTHRASIR, vital energy, longevity, life; enduring a long time. LITUR, colour, complexion, form, the face. LODURR, LODR, LOTHR, from the ob. _N._ lod, fire. LOFNA, prop. LOFN, appears allegorlcally to denote perennial and unchangeable love. LOGI, Flame; a log of wood burnt or to be burnt. LOKI, to shut; whence the _E._ to lock, to finish. LOPTUR, the Aerial, the Sublime; the air; whence the _E._ lofty and aloft, also a (hay) loft. LYNGVI, from lyng or ling, the sweet broom, heath or ling. MAGNI, the Potent, the Powerful; force, energy. MANAGARMR, lit. the moon's wolf; a monster wolf or dog, voracious. MANI, the moon. MARDOLL, Sea-nymph; mere, the sea; whence our word mere, as Windermere, Buttermere, &c: doll, a nymph; poetically a woman. MEGINGJARDIR, the Girdle of Might, the Belt of Prowess. MIDGARD, middleweard, the middleward; _see_ Asgard. Middling, mean. MIMIR, or MIMER, to keep In memory; to be fanciful; mindful. MJODVITNIR, lit. knowing in mead; wine; madja, palm-wine, MJOLNIR, or MJOLLNIR, prob. from v. melja, to pound, or v. mala, to grind; _E._ mill, and prob. with _L._ malleus, a mallet. MODGUDUR, a valiant female warrior, _animosa bellona_: courage; mind; _E._ mood; gracefulness, delectation. MODSOGNIR, lit. sucking in courage or vigour. MOINN, dwelling on a moor. MUNINN, mind; _memory_, recollection; _G._ minne, love. MUSPELLHEIMR, Muspell's region or home; used in the sense of elemental or empyreal fire. NAGLFAR, a nail from nagl, a human nail; according to the Prose Edda, "constructed of the nails of dead men"; a seafaring man. NAL. _G._ nadel; _A.S._ nædl; _E._ a needle. NANNA. Grimm derives this word from the v. nenna, to dare. NAR, a corpse. NASTROND, a corpse; The Strand of the Dead. NAUDUR, necessity; need. NAUT, ph. from the v. njota, to make use of. NIDAFJOLL, a rock, a mountain. NIDHOGG, a phrase used to indicate the new and the waning moon. NIDI, from nidr, downwards. NIFLHEIMR, lit. Nebulous-home--the shadowy region of death. NIFLHEL, from nifi and hel. _See_ the latter word. NIFLUNGAR, the mythic-heroic ghosts of the shadowy realms of death. NIPINGR, handsome; to contract, to curve. NJORD, prop. NJORDR, humid; _Sk._ nar, nir, water; a wave; and Neriman, an aquatic man. NOTT; _D._ nat; _M.G._ naht; _G._ nacht; _A.S._ niht; _E._ night. NYI, these dwarfs were symbolical of the new and the waning moon. ODIN. _E._ to _wade_ through, consequently the Omnipotent Being that _permeates all things_. ODUR, the name of Freyja's husband. Odur may, like Kvasir, be the personification of poetry. ODHROERIR, Mind-exciting; the name of a vessel or kettle. OFNIR, _E._ to weave. The word would thus sig. the textile or creating power of Odin. OMI, from omr, a sound, a crash; a name given to Odin, when like, the Brahmlnlc Indra, he rattles aloft during a battle, or at daybreak. ONDURDIS, Snow skates; _E._ to wander; dis, a nymph, a goddess. ORGELMIR, Primordial Giant; also to roar, to howl, to clang, to resound. ORI, delirious (with love), one of the Erotic Genii. OSKI, hence one who listens to the wishes of mankind. RADGRID, lit. seeking power with avidity; power, empire council. RADSVITHR, wise, powerful. RAGNAROKR. The n. ragin signified _rath_, council, the pl. of which, regin, Is used in the Eddaic Poems for the gods; that is to say, the consulting, deliberating deities. It answers in fact fully to the _E._ word _rack_, Indicating atmospheric nebulosity; hence Ragnarok is very approp. rendered by "The Twilight of the Gods." RAN, to plunder; her spoil being those who were drowned at sea. RANDGRID: rand, from rond, a shield. RATATOSKR, from the v. rata; to permeate; the last sylb. may be derived from _G._ tasche, a pocket or pouch; hence the Permeating Pouch? REGIN, Is often used In the sense of vast, immense; the vast sea. REGINLEIF, dear to the gods, _see_ Regin. RIGR, Rajah, a king. RINDA, prop. RINDUR, sig. symbolically, the crust of the earth. ROSKA, quick, lively, active. SADR, SATHR, just, true, in sooth, verily. SÆGR, a large vessel of any kind. The word was used by the Skalds metaphorically for the sea. SAGA. The personified saga or narration, from the v. segja, to say; _G._ sage; _E._ a saying; _L._ Saga, a sorceress; sagax, saga-clous, to foretell. SANNGETALL, inquiring after; guessing at truth. SESSRUMNIR, lit. Seat-roomy, _i.e._ having room for plenty of seats. SID, declining, hanging, tending downward. SIDHOTTR, lit. Hanging-hat or hood. SIDSKEGGR, lit. Hanging-beard; _E._ shag and shaggy. SIF, signifying peace, friendship, relationship, a goddess, Sibja, Sippia, and Sib. SIGFADIR, or SIGFODUR, the Father of Victory; _L._ pater. SILFRINTOPPR, Silver-mane; _E._ silver: toppr, _see_ Gulltoppr. SINDRI, either scintillating or producing dross. SJOFNA. F. Mag. derives it from the v. sja, to see. SKADI, the magpie received its name from this goddess. SKAFIDR, shaving, scraping. SKEGGOLD, lit. Old-beard; also denoted a particular kind of battle-axe. SKEIDBRIMIR, any space of time that is elapsing. SKIDBLADNIR, lath, shingle, billet of wood, a sheath; _E._ blade, a blade or _leaf_ of grass. SKILFINGR, prob. to shake, to shatter. SKINFAXI, Shining-mane: skin, splendour, light. SKIRNIR, serene, pure, clear; E. sheer, which had formerly the same meaning. SKOGUL, prob. from v. skaga, to jut out; whence skagi, a promontory. SKOLL, to stick to, to adhere, to strike, to smite. SLEIPNIR. _E._ slippery. SLIDRUGTANNI, cruel, fierce, savage. SNOTRA, to blow the nose; a person, even a goddess, being much more _tidy_ when the nostrils are thoroughly _emunctated._ SOKKVABEKKR, lit. Sinking-brook; to sink; an estuary, a shore, a brook. SON, sound, song, _sonus_, _cantus_. SURTUR, obscure, invisible; and invisible, unintelligible!! Surtur, according to Fin Magnusen, the invisible, unintelligible being whom the ancient Scandinavians regarded as "the great First Cause least understood" of all things. SVADILFARI, lubricity, also slippery ice. SVAFNIR, prob. from v. svefa, to cast asleep; sleep, quiet, repose. SVALINN, the Refrigerating; to cool, to refrigerate. SVARTALFAHEIMR, lit. Black or Swart Elves' home, region of the Elves of Darkness in contradistincition to that of the Elves of Light. SVARTHOFDI, Black-head; svartr, black, swart. SVASUTHR, Sweet-south; blithe, jocund, dear. SVIDR and SVIDRIR, from v. svida, to scorch; or wise, powerful. SVIPALL, to hasten, to vibrate; to wave, to hover; also with _E._ v. to sweep. SYLGR, a draught or deglutition; to swallow; to swill; to guzzle, to feast. SYN, signifying equity; syn. defence, excuse, negation, impediment, which has been personified into a judicial goddess. SYNIR, having a fine appearance. TANNGNIOSTR, Gnashing-teeth; to bruise, crack, grind, gnash. THEKKR, to know; _E._ to think. The adj. thekkr means also amiable. THODNUMA, men, people, nations. THOR, contraction of Thonar, a word indicating a God who, like Thor, presided over _thunder_ and atmospherical phenomena. THORINN, from thor, audacity; whence the v. thora; to dare. THRAINN, the Pertinacious; from the v. thra, to desire vehemently. THRIDI, _The Third_. THROR, ph. from v. throa, to increase, to amplify. THRUDUR. Thrudr is an obsolete _N._ word signifying fortitude, firmness; but it appears to have originally had, in most of the Teutonic languages the sig. of maiden, virgin; and was afterwards used in the sense of witch, sorceress. THRUDVANGR, the Abode or Region or Fortitude. THRYM. F. Mag. says the word is _undoubtedly_ derived from thruma, thunder. THUNDR, can be derived from thund, a breastplate, a coat of mail. THYN, to thunder, to make a thundering noise, as a rapid current does. TYR, signifying God; as well as the _L._ Jupiter, for which he assumes a nom. Ju or Jus, Jupiter. URD, VERDANDI, and SKULD, the Present, Past, and Future. The names of the Destinies of the Present and Past. UTGARD, prop. UTGARDR, lit. Outer-ward. _See_ Midgard. VAFTHRUDNIR, from the v. vefa, to involve, prop, to weave. VAFUDR, the Weaver, or the Constrainer. VAKR, VAKUR, alert, lively, vigilant. VALASKJALF, choice, election. VALFADIR, or VALFODUR, lit. the Choosing Father. VALHALLA, prop, VALHOLL, lit. the Hall of the Chosen: may also have originally indicated a temple. VALKYRJOR, or VALKYRJUR, sing. VALKYRJA, lit. Choosers of the Slain; denoted the slain in battle; a poetical word for a field of battle. VANADIS, prop, a Goddess of the Vanir. _See_ that word, and _Dis_. VANIR, beautiful; with the _L._ venustus and Venus, and ph. with the _E. wench_. VASADR, from vas, moisture, a word cog. with the _E._ wet and wash. VE. Was used in the m. sing, to express a particular god; that in the pi. it would be vear, gods, idols; a temple. VEDURFOLNIR might be rendered Storm-stilling; causing serenity. VEGSVINN, lit Road-knowing. VERATYR, lit. the Man-god. VESTRI, west, occidental. VIDAR, a tree; wood; and prob. also weed and withy. VIDBLAINN, expanded azure (lit. Wide-blue). VIDFINNR, wide, vast. VIDOLFR, or VIDALFR, lit. Sylvan Elf. VIDRIR, Moderator of the weather; to still the weather. VIGRID, from vig, a battle; battle craft, the art of war. VILI, Will. To will; to choose; to elect. VILMEITHR, an old word for tree. VIN, and VINA, a friend, to love, to favour; winsome. VINDALFR, Wind Elf. VINDSVALR; vindr, wind: and svalr, cold, glacial. VINGOLF, lit. the Abode of Friends; golf means lit. a floor. VOLUNDR. The word denotes a skilful artificer, in which sense it is still used by the Icelanders; he is a famous workman--a Wayland--in iron; and they very appropriately term a labyrinth a Wayland-house. VOLUSPA, a sybil or prophetess. YGGDRASILL, from Ygg, one of Odin's names (see the following word) and drasill, bearing; hence, according to F. Mag., it would sig. bearing (producing) rain, or bearing Odin. YGGR., to meditate, and also to fear; hence the word might be rendered by either the Meditating or the Terrible. YLG, the Howling; to howl. YMIR, a confused noise, like the rustling of trees when shaken by the wind; also the clang of metals. SIEGFRIED AWAKENS BRYNHILD. (_after the painting of R. Bung._) The story of Siegfried and Brynhild constitutes the greatest epic in Teutonic Gothic literature. Its origin is hard to trace, but parts of the legends carry the investigator back to Iranian sources. Its greatest development, however, may justly be credited to Icelandic sagas, in which the mythology of the Norse people has a prominent place. In both the Gothic and Teutonic versions, while considerable variation of incident is noticeable, the awakening of Brynhild, a valkyrie maiden, and daughter of Wotan, is represented as having been accomplished by Siegfried, who rides through a wall of flames which surrounds her, and thus breaks the spell which binds her to sleep until a warrior fearless enough to brave fire shall come to claim her for a bride. [Illustration] A FEAST IN VALHALLA. (_From a painting by Jno. Kellar._) An admirable description of a feast of the gods, in Valhalla, will be found on pages 293-94-95 of this volume. It was a strong belief among the Goths, prior to the introduction of Christianity among them, that the bodies of all warriors who met their deaths in battle were transported directly to Valhalla by Valkyrie maidens on the backs of winged horses. Upon reaching this mythological heaven the dead were revived and ever thereafter enjoyed drinking mead, eating swine flesh, and in fighting their battles over again every day. [Illustration] THE DEATH OF ATLI. (_From a painting by S. Goldberg._) Atli has been identified as Attila, called in history "the Scourge of God," a king of the Huns who twice defeated the Romans under Theodosius, and plundered the eternal city itself. He was guilty of many excesses and is reported to have died of a hemorrhage on the day following his marriage with Ildico (453). In the story of Seigfried and Brynhild, however, he is represented as having married Gudran, daughter of Grimhild and King Giuki, who it will be recalled by readers of the other volumes of this series, beguiled Siegfried by means of a magic potion, into marriage with her. Her feelings revolted against an alliance with Atli, but she accepted him for a husband in order thereby to obtain the power to gratify her vengeance against Hogni (Hagan), who had assassinated Siegfried. [Illustration] 
7841	----	A PRIMARY READER Old-time Stories, Fairy Tales and Myths Retold by Children By E. LOUISE SMYTHE PREFACE. This book originated in a series of little reading lessons prepared for the first grade pupils in the Santa Rosa public schools. The object of the lessons was three-fold: to provide reading matter for the little ones who had only a small vocabulary of sight-words; to acquaint them early with the heroes who have come down to us in song and story; and to create a desire for literature. It has been my endeavor to follow Dr. G. Stanley Hall's suggestions in his monograph, "How to Teach Reading," where he asks for "true child-editions, made by testing many children with the work piece-meal and cutting and adapting the material till it really and closely fitted the minds and hearts of the children." Various stories were given to the pupils; discussions followed. After a time the story was produced orally by the children. Notes were made on expressions used and points of interest dwelt upon. Later the story was either written on the blackboard or mimeographed and put into the pupils' hands to read. It gave great delight to the children to recognize an old friend in a new dress, and as interest was aroused, but little difficulty was encountered in recognizing words that were indeed "new" in their sight vocabulary, but old servants in their oral vocabulary. The spirit of the book may be illustrated by referring to the roast turkey in the story of The Little Match Girl. The story was told as dear old Hans Christian Andersen gave it to the little German children of fifty years ago. But American children have a different idea of the fowl which graces the table at Christmas time. The story as it came from the lips of the children referred to the "turkey," and "goose" was used in only one instance. As the story was to appeal to our children, the word was changed to suit their ideas. Again, in the story of Red Riding-Hood we preferred to use the German ending, as it leaves a far happier impression on the minds of the children than the accepted English version. The incongruity of the wolf's swallowing whole the grandmother and child does not destroy the child's enjoyment of the story, while the happy release of both grandmother and little girl forms a suitable close. Also, as this old story handed down in so many languages is an interpretation of one of the Sun myths, it seems better to cling to the original, especially when it meets so entirely with the child's approval. Before presenting the Norse myths for reading, they had been the subject of many conversations, queries and illustrations. Some were even dramatized--in a childlike way, of course. Detailed descriptions of Mt. Ida, Asgard, and some of the principal heroes, were given. But, though the little audience seemed interested in the introductory remarks, these never came back when the children were called upon to reproduce the story. The narrator at once plunged into the story part. It is for this reason descriptions of heroes and places have been omitted in these stories. It is thus left for each teacher who uses this book to employ her own method of introducing the gods of the hardy Norseman to her pupils. The following works will be found useful and quite available to most teachers: Andersen's Norse Mythology, Mabie's Norse Stories, Mara Pratt's Stories from Norseland, Fiske's Myths and Myth Makers, Taylor's Primitive Culture, Vol. I.; and Longfellow's Poems. Hoping these stories will interest other children as they have interested those who helped build them, I send them forth. E. LOUISE SMYTHE. _Santa Rosa, California._ CONTENTS. THE UGLY DUCKLING THE LITTLE PINE TREE THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD THE APPLES OF IDUN HOW THOR GOT THE HAMMER THE HAMMER LOST AND FOUND THE STORY OF THE SHEEP THE GOOD SHIP ARGO JASON AND THE HARPIES THE BRASS BULLS JASON AND THE DRAGON [Illustration: THEY DRESSED THOR LIKE FREYJA.] THE UGLY DUCKLING. under broke does keep only turkey warm ugly water A duck made her nest under some leaves. [Illustration: THE DUCK'S NEST.] She sat on the eggs to keep them warm. At last the eggs broke, one after the other. Little ducks came out. Only one egg was left. It was a very large one. At last it broke, and out came a big, ugly duckling. "What a big duckling!" said the old duck. "He does not look like us. Can he be a turkey?--We will see. If he does not like the water, he is not a duck." * * * * * * * mother jumped duckling splash swim bigger called began little The next day the mother duck took her ducklings to the pond. [Illustration: THE DUCK TAKES HER DUCKLINGS TO SWIM.] Splash! Splash! The mother duck was in the water. Then she called the ducklings to come in. They all jumped in and began to swim. The big, ugly duckling swam, too. The mother duck said, "He is not a turkey. He is my own little duck. He will not be so ugly when he is bigger." * * * * * * * yard alone while noise hurt that eating know want Then she said to the ducklings, "Come with me. I want you to see the other ducks. Stay by me and look out for the cat." They all went into the duck yard. What a noise the ducks made! While the mother duck was eating a big bug, an old duck bit the ugly duckling. "Let him alone," said the mother duck. "He did not hurt you." [Illustration: "HE DID NOT HURT YOU," SAID THE MOTHER DUCK.] "I know that," said the duck, "but he is so ugly, I bit him." * * * * * * * lovely help there walked bushes afraid The next duck they met, said, "You have lovely ducklings. They are all pretty but one. He is very ugly." [Illustration: "YOUR CHILDREN ARE ALL PRETTY EXCEPT ONE."] The mother duck said, "I know he is not pretty. But he is very good." Then she said to the ducklings, "Now, my dears, have a good time." But the poor, big, ugly duckling did not have a good time. The hens all bit him. The big ducks walked on him. The poor duckling was very sad. He did not want to be so ugly. But he could not help it. He ran to hide under some bushes. The little birds in the bushes were afraid and flew away. * * * * * * * because house would away hard lived "It is all because I am so ugly," said the duckling. So he ran away. At night he came to an old house. The house looked as if it would fall down. It was so old. But the wind blew so hard that the duckling went into the house. [Illustration: THE UGLY DUCKLING FINDS THE OLD HOUSE.] An old woman lived there with her cat and her hen. The old woman said, "I will keep the duck. I will have some eggs." * * * * * * * growl walk corner animals The next day, the cat saw the duckling and began to growl. The hen said, "Can you lay eggs?" The duckling said, "No." "Then keep still," said the hen. The cat said, "Can you growl?" [Illustration: THE CAT SAID, "CAN YOU GROWL?"] "No," said the duckling. "Then keep still," said the cat. And the duckling hid in a corner. The next day he went for a walk. He saw a big pond. He said, "I will have a good swim." But all of the animals made fun of him. He was so ugly. * * * * * summer away cake winter swans spring flew bread leaves The summer went by. Then the leaves fell and it was very cold. The poor duckling had a hard time. It is too sad to tell what he did all winter. At last it was spring. The birds sang. The ugly duckling was big now. One day he flew far away. [Illustration: "OH, SEE THE LOVELY SWAN!"] Soon he saw three white swans on the lake. He said, "I am going to see those birds. I am afraid they will kill me, for I am so ugly." He put his head down to the water. What did he see? He saw himself in the water. But he was not an ugly duck. He was a white swan. The other swans came to see him. The children said, "Oh, see the lovely swans. The one that came last is the best." And they gave him bread and cake. It was a happy time for the ugly duckling. THE LITTLE PINE TREE pine leaves other woods needles better fairy gold sleep A little pine tree was in the woods. It had no leaves. It had needles. The little tree said, "I do not like needles. All the other trees in the woods have pretty leaves. I want leaves, too. But I will have better leaves. I want gold leaves." Night came and the little tree went to sleep. A fairy came by and gave it gold leaves. [Illustration: THE FAIRY GIVES THE PINK TREE GOLD LEAVES.] woke cried glass little again pretty When the little tree woke it had leaves of gold. It said, "Oh, I am so pretty! No other tree has gold leaves." Night came. A man came by with a bag. He saw the gold leaves. He took them all and put them into his bag. The poor little tree cried, "I do not want gold leaves again. I will have glass leaves." * * * * * * * night sunshine bright looked wind blew So the little tree went to sleep. The fairy came by and put the glass leaves on it. The little tree woke and saw its glass leaves. How pretty they looked in the sunshine! 'No other tree was so bright. Then a wind came up. It blew and blew. The glass leaves all fell from the tree and were broken. * * * * * again green goat hungry Again the little tree had no leaves. It was very sad, and said, "I will not have gold leaves and I will not have glass leaves. I want green leaves. I want to be like the other trees." And the little tree went to sleep. When it woke, it was like other trees. It had green leaves. A goat came by. He saw the green leaves on the little tree. The goat was hungry and he ate all the leaves. [Illustration: THE GOAT EATS THE GREEN LEAVES.] happy best Then the little tree said, "I do not want any leaves. I will not have green leaves, nor glass leaves, nor gold leaves. I like my needles best." [Illustration: THE PINE TREE WITH NEEDLES.] And the little tree went to sleep. The fairy gave it what it wanted. When it woke, it had its needles again. Then the little pine tree was happy. THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL. almost match across dark running bare year slippers fell It was very cold. The snow fell and it was almost dark. It was the last day of the year. A little match girl was running in the street. Her name was Gretchen. She had no hat on. Her feet were bare. When she left home, she had on some big slippers of her mama's. But they were so large that she lost them when she ran across the street. * * * * * * * apron curly lights bunch about smelled could matches cooking Gretchen had a lot of matches in her old apron. She had a little bunch in her hand. But she could not sell her matches. No one would buy them. Poor little Gretchen! She was cold and hungry. The snow fell on her curly hair. But she did not think about that. She saw lights in the houses. She smelled good things cooking. She said to herself, "This is the last night of the year." * * * * * * * knew window fire money even pile Gretchen got colder and colder. She was afraid to go home. She knew her papa would whip her, if she did not take some money to him. It was as cold at home as in the street. They were too poor to have a fire. They had to put rags in the windows to keep out the wind. Gretchen did not even have a bed. She had to sleep on a pile of rags. * * * * * * * frozen candle sitting lighted thought stove near think step She sat down on a door step. [Illustration: GRETCHEN ON THE DOOR STEP.] Her little hands were almost frozen. She took a match and lighted it to warm her hands. The match looked like a little candle. Gretchen thought she was sitting by a big stove. It was so bright. She put the match near her feet, to warm them. Then the light went out. She did not think that she was by the stove any more. * * * * * * * another dishes roast table cloth ready fork knife turkey Gretchen lighted another match. Now she thought she could look into a room. In this room was a table. A white cloth and pretty dishes were on the table. There was a roast turkey, too. It was cooked and ready to eat. The knife and fork were in his back. The turkey jumped from the dish and ran to the little girl. The light went out and she was in the cold and dark again. Christmas candles many until Gretchen lighted another match. Then she thought she was sitting by a Christmas tree. Very many candles were on the tree. It was full of pretty things. Gretchen put up her little hands. The light went out. The lights on the Christmas tree went up, up--until she saw they were the stars. * * * * * * * grandma never before dying going been Then she saw a star fall. "Some one is dying," said little Gretchen. Her grandma had been very good to the little girl. But she was dead. The grandma had said, "When a star falls some one is going to God." The little girl lighted another match. It made a big light. Gretchen thought she saw her grandma. She never looked so pretty before. She looked so sweet and happy. * * * * * * * take goes "O grandma," said the little girl, "take me. When the light goes out you will go away. The stove and the turkey and the Christmas tree all went away." Then Gretchen lighted a bunch of matches. She wanted to keep her grandma with her. The matches made it very light. The grandma took the little girl in her arms. They went up, up--where they would never be cold or hungry. They were with God. * * * * * * * found next burned dead froze death The next day came. Some men found a little girl in the street. She was dead. In her hand were the burned matches. They said, "Poor little thing, she froze to death." They did not know how happy she was in heaven. LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD. six take cake coat butter basket hood always off When May was six years old, her grandma made her a red coat with a hood. She looked so pretty in it that the children all called her "Red Riding-Hood." One day her mama said, "I want you to take this cake and some butter to grandma." Red Riding-Hood was very glad to go. She always had a good time at grandma's. [Illustration: LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD AND HER MOTHER] She put the things into her little basket and ran off. * * * * * * * wolf mill shall going first wood When Red Riding-Hood came to the wood, she met a big wolf. [Illustration: SHE MEETS THE WOLF.] "Where are you going?" said the wolf. Red Riding-Hood said, "I am going to see my grandma. Mama has made her a cake and some butter." "Does she live far?" said the wolf. "Yes," said Red Riding-Hood, "in the white house by the mill." "I will go too, and we shall see who will get there first," said the wolf. * * * * * * * short flowers soft stopped tapped pull pick voice string The wolf ran off and took a short way, but Red Riding-Hood stopped to pick some flowers. When the wolf got to the house, he tapped on the door. The grandma said, "Who is there?" The wolf made his voice as soft as he could. He said, "It is little Red Riding-Hood, grandma." Then the old lady said, "Pull the string and the door will open." The wolf pulled the string and the door opened. He ran in and ate the poor old lady. Then he jumped into her bed and put on her cap. * * * * * * * tapped thank dear arms hug called When Red Riding-Hood tapped on the door, the wolf called out, "Who is there?" Red Riding-Hood said, "It is your little Red Riding-Hood, grandma." Then the wolf said, "Pull the string and the door will open." When she went in, she said, "Look, grandma, see the cake and butter mama has sent you." "Thank you, dear, put them on the table and come here." * * * * * * * better hear eyes ears how teeth ate cruel poor When Red Riding-Hood went near the bed, she said, "Oh, grandma, how big your arms are!" "The better to hug you, my dear." "How big your ears are, grandma." "The better to hear you, my dear." "How big your eyes are, grandma." "The better to see you, my dear." "How big your teeth are, grandma!" "The better to eat you." Then the cruel wolf jumped up and ate poor little Red Riding-Hood. * * * * * * * just hunter scream killed heard open Just then a hunter came by. He heard Red Riding-Hood scream. The hunter ran into the house and killed the old wolf. [Illustration: THE GRANDMOTHER, THE HUNTER AND LITTLE RED RIDING- HOOD.] When he cut the wolf open, out jumped Little Red Riding-Hood and her grandma. THE APPLES OF IDUN. once hills field journey rocks cattle walked pieces three Once upon a time three of the gods went on a journey. One was Thor and one was Loki. Loki was ugly and mean. The gods liked to walk over the hills and rocks. They could go very fast for they were so big. The gods walked on and on. At last they got very hungry. Then they came to a field with cattle. [Illustration: LOKI AND ANOTHER GOD TAKE A WALK.] Thor killed a big ox and put the pieces into a pot. * * * * * meat share talking cross eagle right They made a big fire but the meat would not cook. They made the fire bigger and bigger, but the meat would not cook. Then the gods were very cross. Some one said, "Give me my share, and I will make the meat cook." The gods looked to see who was talking. There in an oak tree was a big eagle. [Illustration: THE THREE GODS TRY TO COOK THE OX.] The gods were so hungry that they said, "Well, we will." * * * * * supper stuck enough minute claws stones pole against flew The supper was ready in a minute. Then the eagle flew down to get his share. He took the four legs and there was not much left but the ribs. This made Loki cross for he was very hungry. He took a long pole to hit the eagle. But the pole stuck to the eagle's claws. The other end stuck to Loki. Then the eagle flew away. He did not fly high. He flew just high enough for Loki to hit against the stones. * * * * * please giant flying tried feathers suit Loki said, "Please let me go! Oh, please let me go!" But the eagle said, "No, you tried to kill me. I will not let you go." And the eagle hit him against the stones. Loki said again, "Please let me go!" But the eagle said, "No, I have you now." Then Loki knew the eagle was a giant and not a bird. This giant had a suit of eagle's feathers. He was flying in his eagle suit when he saw Loki. * * * * * city beautiful apples felt growing young Now the gods lived in a city named Asgard. In this city Idun kept the beautiful golden apples. When the gods felt they were growing old, they ate the apples and were young again. The giant wanted to be like the gods. So he said to Loki, "I will let you go, if you will get me the apples of Idun." [Illustration: IDUN WITH HER APPLES.] But Loki said, "I can't do that." * * * * * bumped gate putting stayed golden morning So the eagle bumped him on the stones again. Then Loki said, "I can't stand this. I will get the apples for you." Loki and the eagle went to the city. The eagle stayed by the gate, but Loki went into the city. He went up to Idun. She was putting the apples into a beautiful golden box. [Illustration: LOKI AND IDUN] Loki said, "Good morning, Idun Those are beautiful apples." And Idun said, "Yes, they are beautiful." "I saw some just like them, the other day," said Loki. [Illustration: IDUN WITH HER APPLES.] strange show bring picked Idun knew there were no other apples like these, and she said, "That is strange. I would like to see them." Loki said, "Come with me and I will show them to you. It is only a little way. Bring your apples with you." As soon as Idun was out of the gates the eagle flew down. He picked her up in his claws. Then he flew away with her to his home. * * * * * after pale falcon passed story began Day after day passed and Idun did not come back. The gods did not have the golden apples to eat, so they began to get old. At last they said, "Who let the apples go?" Then Loki looked pale and the gods said, "Loki, you did it." And Loki said, "Yes, I did." [Illustration: THE GODS ASK WHERE IDUN IS.] He did not tell a story that time. Then Loki said, "I will get Idun and the apples back, if I may have the falcon suit." * * * * * changed faster The gods said, "You may have it, if you will bring the apples back." Loki put on the falcon suit and flew away. He looked like a big bird flying. When Loki came to the giant's home, he was glad the giant was not there. He changed Idun into a nut and then flew away with the nut. [Illustration: THE GIANT SEES THE BIRD FLY AWAY] When the giant came home, Idun was gone. The golden apples were gone, too. Then the giant put on his eagle suit and flew after Loki. Loki heard the eagle coming. Loki flew faster. * * * * * breath over changed walls blazed burned Poor Loki was all out of breath. The eagle flew faster and faster. Then the gods got on the walls to look for Loki. They saw him coming and the eagle after him. So they made fires on the walls. At last Loki flew over the walls. Then the gods lighted the fires. The fires blazed up. The eagle flew into the fire and was burned. As soon as Loki put the nut down, it changed to Idun. The gods ate the beautiful golden apples and were young again. [Illustration] HOW THOR GOT THE HAMMER. proud porch lying journeys tricks wife always alone asleep Sif was Thor's wife. Sif had long golden hair. Thor was very proud of Sif's golden hair. Thor was always going on long journeys. One day he went off and left Sif alone. She went out on the porch and fell asleep. Loki came along. He was always playing tricks. He saw Sif lying asleep. He said, "I am going to cut off her hair." [Illustration] So Loki went up on the porch and cut off Sif's golden hair. * * * * * where around crying answer found somebody When Sif woke up and saw that her hair was gone, she cried and cried. Then she ran to hide. She did not want Thor to see her. When Thor came home, he could not find Sif. "Sif! Sif!" he called, "Where are you?" But Sif did not answer. Thor looked all around the house. At last he found her crying. [Illustration: "OH THOR, ALL MY HAIR, IS GONE!"] "Oh, Thor, look, all my hair is gone! Somebody has cut it off. It was a man. He ran away with it." * * * * * angry mischief right getting cutting something Then Thor was very angry. He said, "I know it was Loki. He is always getting into mischief. Just wait until I get him!" And Thor went out to find Loki. Pretty soon he found him. Thor said, "Did you cut off Sif's hair?" Loki said, "Yes, I did." "Then you must pay for cutting off my wife's hair," said Thor. [Illustration: "DID YOU CUT OFF SIF'S HAIR?"] "All right," said Loki, "I will get you something better than the hair." * * * * * ground thumb beads dwarfs crooked crown worked Loki went down, down into the ground to the home of the dwarfs. It was very dark down there. The only light came from the dwarfs' fires. The dwarfs were ugly little black men. They were not any bigger than your thumb. They had crooked backs and crooked legs. Their eyes looked like black beads. [Illustration: LOKI AND THE DWARFS.] Loki said, "Can you make me a gold crown that will grow like real hair?" The dwarfs said, "Yes, we can." So the busy little dwarfs worked all night. * * * * * morning showed laughed spear wonderful three ship standing brother nobody stepped else When morning came the dwarfs gave Loki his crown of golden hair. They gave him a spear and a ship, too. [Illustration: THE DWARFS BRING TO LOKI THE SHIP, THE SPEAR AND THE CROWN OF HAIR.] Loki took the things up to Asgard, where the gods all lived. Then the gods all came up to him. He showed them the things. The gods said, "They are very wonderful." And Loki said, "Oh, nobody else can make such things as my little dwarfs." A little dwarf, named Brok, was standing near by. He heard Loki say that. Then he stepped up and said, "My brother can make just as good things as these." Loki laughed and said, "If you can get three things as wonderful as these, I will give you my head." [Illustration: BROK TELLS LOKI THAT HIS BROTHER CAN MAKE BETTER GIFTS] * * * * * anywhere misses spear mark Brok went down into the ground where his little dwarfs were working. Brok's brother was named Sindre. He said to his brother, "Loki says that you can't make such nice things as his dwarfs can. He said that he would give me his head if I could get him such wonderful things as his." This made the dwarfs angry. Their eyes grew big. They said, "He will see what we can do." Sindre wanted to know what the wonderful things were. Brok said, "Loki has a golden crown that will grow like real hair. A ship that can go anywhere. A spear that never misses the mark." "We will show him," said the dwarfs. * * * * * * burning blow pigskin bellows blew blowing The dwarfs soon had the fires burning. Then Sindre put a pigskin into the fire. He gave the bellows to Brok and said, "Now blow as hard as you can." Then Sindre went out. Brok blew and blew. A little fly came in and bit him on the hand. The fly bit him so hard that Brok thought he would have to stop blowing, but he did not. Then Sindre came back. He took out a golden pig from the fire. * * * * * stand lump ring He next put a lump of gold into the fire. He said to Brok, "Blow and blow and blow, and do not stop." Then Sindre went out again. So Brok blew as hard as he could. Then the same fly came in and bit him again. Brok thought that he could not stand it, but he kept on. When Sindre came back, he took a gold ring from the fire. * * * * * hard forehead brush iron blood hammer handle spoiled mean Then Sindre put a lump of iron into the fire. He said to Brok, "Now blow as hard as you can." And Sindre went out. Brok blew and blew. The same mean fly came again, and bit him on the forehead. It bit so hard that the blood ran into his eyes. Brok put up his hand to brush away the fly. Just then Sindre came back. He took the hammer out of the fire. [Illustration: THE DWARFS WITH THE GOLDEN PIG, THE RING AND THE HAMMER.] "There!" he said, "You have almost spoiled it. The handle is too short, but it cannot be helped now." * * * * * hurried proud came pocket Brok hurried up to Asgard with his things. All the gods came around to see. Then Loki came up to show his things. He put the crown of gold on Sif's head and it began to grow like real hair. He gave the spear to Odin and said, "This spear will never miss its mark." [Illustration: SIF WITH THE GOLDEN CROWN] Then he took out the ship. He said, "This is a wonderful ship. It will sail on any sea, and yet you can fold it up and put it into your pocket." Loki felt very proud, for he thought his things were the best. * * * * * fold sail afraid sorry each ring shining faster gave All the gods felt very sorry for little Brok. They thought Loki's things were fine. They were afraid Brok's would not be so nice. [Illustration: BROK SHOWS HIS THINGS TO THE GODS.] They said, "Now, Brok, show your things." Brok took out the gold ring. He said, "Each night this ring will throw off a ring just like it. He gave the ring to Odin." Then Brok took out the golden pig. He said, "This pig can go anywhere, on the ground or in the air. It can go faster than any horse. If the night is dark, the shining pig will make it light." * * * * * frost giants turned blowing [Illustration: THOR WITH HIS HAMMER] Then Brok showed the hammer. He said, "This is not a very pretty hammer. When I was making it, Loki turned himself into a fly and made me spoil it. The fly bit me so hard that I had to stop blowing. So the handle is a little short. But it is a wonderful hammer. If you throw it at anything, it will hit the mark and come back to you." The gods picked up the hammer and passed it around. They said, "It will be just the things with which to keep the Frost Giants out of Asgard." * * * * * touch neck without way The gods said, "Brok's things are the best." Brok gave the hammer to Thor. That is the way Thor got his wonderful hammer. Then Brok said to Loki, "You said I could have your head if my things were the best." And Loki was angry and said, "Yes, I told you that you could have my head. But you can't touch my neck." Of course, Brok could not get his head without touching his neck. So Brok did not get Loki's head. [Illustration: THE FROST GIANT] THE HAMMER LOST AND FOUND. everything planned The Frost Giants did not like the sunshine. They did not like to see the flowers. They did not like to hear the birds sing. They wanted to spoil everything. The Frost Giants wanted to get into Asgard. But they did not know how. They were afraid of Thor and his hammer. They said, "If we can only get the hammer, we can get into Asgard." They talked and planned all night. At last one Frost Giant said, "I know how we can get the hammer. I will dress in a bird suit. Then I will fly up to Thor's house and get the hammer." [Illustration: THE FROST GIANTS TALKED AND PLANNED ALL NIGHT.] * * * * * Freyja The next night the Frost Giant flew into the house while Thor was asleep. He took the hammer and flew away with it. When Thor woke, he put out his hand to get the hammer. It was gone. He said, "Loki, the hammer is gone. The Frost Giants have taken it. We must get it back." [Illustration: THE FROST GIANT FLEW INTO THE HOUSE WHILE THOR WAS ASLEEP.] Loki said, "I can get it back, if Freyja will let me have her falcon suit." So he went to Freyja and said, "Will you let me have your falcon suit? I can get the hammer back if you will." Freyja said, "Yes, of course I will. If I had a gold suit you could have it. Any thing to get the hammer back." * * * * * people city Thrym strange buried eight miles deep falcon Loki took the falcon suit and put it on. He flew over the city. All the people saw him flying. They said, "What a strange bird!" They did not know that it was Loki going for the hammer. [Illustration: LOKI BORROWS THE FALCON SUIT.] When Loki came to the city of the Frost Giants, he took off the falcon suit. He walked and walked until he came to Thrym's house. Thrym was the giant who took the hammer. Thrym was sitting on the porch, making gold collars for his dogs. When he saw Loki, he said, "What do you want?" Loki said, "I have come for the hammer." The old giant laughed and said, "You will never get that hammer. It is buried eight miles deep in the ground. "But there is one way you can get it. I will give you the hammer if you get Freyja for my wife." * * * * * clothes shook necklace So Loki went back to Asgard. Thor said, "Well, did you get the hammer?" "No, but we can get it if Freyja will be Thrym's wife." Then they went to Freyja's house. They said, "Put on your very best clothes and come with us. You must be Thrym's wife." Freyja said, "Do you think I will be the Frost Giant's wife? I won't be his wife." Thor said, "We can get the hammer back if you will." But Freyja said, "No, I will not be his wife." Loki said, "You will have to, if we get the hammer back." Still Freyja said, "I will not go." And she was very angry. She shook so hard that she broke her necklace and it fell to the floor. * * * * * bride braided wagon vail servant goat Then the gods said, "Thor, you must dress like Freyja. You will have to play you are the bride." Thor said, "I won't do it. You will all laugh at me. I won't dress up like a girl." They said, "Well, that is the only way we can get the hammer back." Thor said, "I do not like to dress like a girl, but I will do it." Then they dressed Thor up like Freyja. They put on Freyja's dress, necklace and vail, and braided his hair. Loki said, "I will dress up too, and be your servant." They got into Thor's goat wagon and went to the Giants' home. [Illustration: THOR AND LOKI APPROACH THE HOUSE OF THE GIANTS] * * * * * dinner salmon mead whole thirsty barrels When the Frost Giants saw them coming, they said, "Get ready, here comes the bride! We will sit down to the table as soon as they come." The dinner was ready on time. The table was full of good things. All sat down. The bride ate a whole ox and eight salmon before the others had a bite. "She must be very hungry," the Frost Giants said. "Yes," Loki said, "she was so glad to come. She hasn't eaten anything for eight days." Then they brought in the mead. [Illustration: THOR AND LOKI MET BY THRYM] The bride drank three barrels of mead. "How thirsty she is!" said the Frost Giants. Loki said, "Yes, she is very thirsty. She was so glad to come. She did not drink anything for eight days." * * * * * kiss stepped whirled lifted shone lap Old Thrym said, "I had every thing I wanted but Freyja. Now I have Freyja." And Thrym went to kiss the bride. He lifted her vail, but her eyes shone like fire. [Illustration: THRYM PUTS THE HAMMER IN THOR'S LAP.] [Illustration: THOR AND HIS HAMMER.] Thrym stepped back. He said, "What makes Freyja's eyes shine so?" Loki said, "Oh, she was so glad to come. She did not sleep for eight nights." Then Loki said, "It is time for the hammer. Go and get it and put it in the bride's lap." As soon as the hammer was in his lap, Thor tore off the vail. He took the hammer and whirled it around. Fire flew from it. The fire burned the house and the Frost Giants ran away. So Thor got his hammer back. The following stories by Miss Smythe were originally published under the title of "The Golden Fleece." They have been carefully revised and illustrated for this book. THE STORY OF THE SHEEP. ago horns fleece king Greece loved playing Helle grass garden catch clouds Long, long ago there lived a king in Greece. He had two little children, a boy and a girl. They were good children and loved each other very much. One day they were playing in the garden. "Oh, Helle, look!" said the boy. There on the grass was a fine large sheep. This sheep had a fleece of gold and his horns were gold, too. [Illustration: THE KING AND HIS TWO CHILDREN.] The children wanted to pat the sheep, but they could not catch him. When they went near, he ran away on the clouds. * * * * * grew golden hold tame ride tight Every day they played in the garden and every day the sheep came, too. By and by he grew tame and let the children pat his golden fleece. One day the boy said, "Helle, let us take a ride." First he helped his sister on the sheep's back. Then he got on and held to the horns. "Hold tight to me, Helle," he said. * * * * * sky dizzy sea sister land dragon lose nailed Colchis The sheep went up, up into the sky, and ran a long way on the clouds. But Helle got dizzy and fell down into the sea. The boy felt very bad to lose his sister, but went right on. Then he came to the land Colchis. He killed the sheep and gave the golden fleece to the king. [Illustration: THE BOY GIVES THE GOLDEN FLEECE TO THE KING.] The king was glad to have it and nailed it to an oak tree. [Illustration: THE SHEEP WENT UP INTO THE SKY AND RAN A LONG WAY ON THE CLOUDS] By the tree was a dragon. The dragon never went to sleep. He would not let any one but the king come to the tree. So no one could get the golden fleece. THE GOOD SHIP ARGO. across untied wade Jason brave party rained creek bridge shoe-strings invited Jason was a brave young man. He lived a little way from the king's city. One day the king gave a big party and invited Jason. It was a very dark night and it rained hard. Jason had to go across a creek, but there was no bridge. [Illustration: JASON COMES TO THE KING'S HOUSE.] The creek was full of water and Jason had to wade. One of his shoe-strings came untied and he lost his shoe in the water. When he came to the king's house, he had but one shoe. * * * * * knew bring fight wild Argo asked animals shoe Argonauts The king did not like this, for a fairy had said, "The man who shall come to your house with one shoe, will be king." So he knew Jason was to be king. Then he said to Jason, "You may be king when you bring me the golden fleece." Jason was glad to go, and asked many brave men to go with him. To get the golden fleece they would have to fight wild men and animals. They made a big ship which they named "Argo." The men who went on the Argo were called Argonauts. JASON AND THE HARPIES. wings blind nobody strong iron hard skin drive claws scratched brass Harpies The ship Argo sailed a long way. There were two strong men on the ship. They had wings and could fly. One day the Argo came to a land where the blind king lived. This poor king had a hard time. When he sat down to the table to eat, some ugly birds called Harpies, came too. The Harpies had skin like brass and nobody could hurt them. They had claws of iron, and scratched people when they tried to drive them away. When the king's dinner was ready, the Harpies came and took it away. When Jason and his men came, the king told them all about it. Jason said they would help him. * * * * * food drowned tired swords hurt flying They all sat down to the table. When the food was put on the table, the Harpies came flying in. Jason and his men took their swords. [Illustration: JASON TRIES TO KILL THE HARPIES.] They cut at the Harpies but could not hurt them. Then the two men with wings flew up in the air. The Harpies were afraid and flew away. The men flew after them. At last the Harpies grew very tired and fell into the sea and were drowned. Then the men with wings came back. Now the blind king could eat all he wanted. * * * * * thanked rocks moved friends helping good-bye over apart icebergs It was now time for Jason and his friends to go away. The king thanked them over and over again for helping him. When they said good-bye, he told them how to get to the land where they would find the golden fleece. On the sea where Jason and his men had to sail, were two big rocks. These rocks moved on the waterlike icebergs. They were as high as a big hill. They would come close to each other, then they would go far apart. * * * * * fishes pieces dove past break together row almost rocks When fishes swam in the water the rocks would come together and kill the fishes. If birds flew in the air, the rocks would come together and kill birds. If a boat sailed on the water, the rocks would come together and break the boat into little pieces. These rocks had been put in the sea, so no one could go to the land where the golden fleece was. When the ship Argo came to the rocks, Jason sent a dove out. The rocks came together when the dove was almost past. Then they went far apart. Jason made his men row as hard as they could. The rocks began to come together. "Row hard, my men," said Jason. Just as they got past, the rocks hit, but Jason and his men were all right. So they came to Colchis. THE BRASS BULLS. something plow bulls stronger chains noses mouths smoke plant stone flew stall When Jason came to Colchis, he went to the king and said, "Will you give me the golden fleece?" The king wanted to keep the fleece. So he said to Jason, "You may have it, but you must do something for me first." "You must plow with the brass bulls, and plant the dragon's teeth." The brass bulls looked like real bulls, but they were larger and stronger. They blew out fire and smoke from their noses and mouths. The bulls had a stall made of iron and stone. They had to be tied with strong iron chains. * * * * * daughter Medea carriage snakes through pulled When the dragon's teeth were planted, iron men grew up. They always killed the one who had planted them. The king wanted the bulls to kill Jason. [Illustration: MEDEA GATHERS FLOWERS.] He said, "If the bulls do not kill him the iron men will." The king had a daughter named Medea. She saw Jason was a brave young man and did not want him killed. She knew how to help him. She stepped into her carriage, which was pulled by flying snakes. Then Medea flew through the air. She went to hills and creeks and picked all kinds of flowers. She took the flowers home and cooked them. * * * * * nothing face rub juice legs cut Then Medea went to Jason when the king did not know it. She said to Jason, "Rub your face and hands and legs with this juice." [Illustration: MEDEA GIVES JASON THE JUICE.] When he did this, he was as strong as a giant. Nothing could hurt him then. Fire could not burn him, and swords could not cut him. The next day Jason had to plow with the brass bulls and plant the dragon's teeth. * * * * * climbed early tied princess seats hold untied opened place Early in the morning, the king and princess went out to the place. They had good seats where they could see well. All the people in the city came out to see Jason plow. The little boys climbed the trees so they could see better. Then Jason came to the place. The stall where the brass bulls were tied was not far off. The door was opened and Jason went in. He untied the bulls and took hold of their horns. Then he made the bulls come out of their stall. * * * * * pushed kicked until The bulls were very angry and blew fire and smoke from their mouths. This made the cruel king glad. But the people who saw it were afraid. They did not want Jason killed. They did not know that the princess had helped him. Jason pushed the bulls' heads down to the ground. Then they kicked at him with their feet, but could not hurt him. He held their heads down on the ground until the plow was ready. * * * * * handle slowly noon wheat lie just Jason took the chains in one hand. He took the handle of the plow in the other. The bulls jumped and wanted to run away. But Jason held so hard they had to go very slowly. When it was noon the ground was all plowed. Then Jason let the bulls go. They were so angry that they ran away to the woods. Now Jason went to the king and said, "Give me the dragon's teeth." The king gave him his hat full. Then Jason planted the dragon's teeth, just as a man plants wheat. By this time he was very tired, so he went to lie down. [Illustration: JASON SOWS THE DRAGON'S TEETH.] evening knees marble threw growing fight In the evening he came back. The iron men were growing up. Some of the men had only their feet in the ground. Some of them were in the ground up to their knees. Some had only their heads out. They all tried to get out so they could kill Jason. Then Jason did what Medea told him he should do. He took a giant's marble and threw it near the men. All the iron men wanted to get the marble. So they began to fight each other. As soon as one had his feet out of the ground, he cut at the man next to him. So they killed each other. Then Jason took his sword and cut off all the heads that were out of the ground. So all the iron men were killed and the king was very angry. But Medea and the people were glad. JASON AND THE DRAGON. yourself fond father The next day Jason went to the king and said, "Now, give me the golden fleece." The king did not give it to him, but said, "Come again." Then Medea said, "If you want the golden fleece, you must help yourself. My father will not give it to you. A dragon is by the tree where the golden fleece is, and he never sleeps. He is always hungry and eats people if they go near him. I can not kill him but I can make him sleep. He is very fond of cake. I will make some cake and put in something to make the dragon sleep." * * * * * became climbed angry So Medea made the cakes and Jason took them and threw them to the dragon. The dragon ate them all and went to sleep. Then Jason climbed over the dragon and took the nail out of the tree. He put the golden fleece under his coat and ran to the ship Argo. Medea went with him and became his wife. [Illustration: THE DRAGON FINDS THE FLEECE IS GONE.] Oh, how angry the king was! He had lost the golden fleece and the brass bulls and the dragon's teeth. And now his daughter was gone. * * * * * through nine stones He sent his men in ships to take Jason, but they could not get him. At last Medea and Jason and the other Argonauts came to Greece. Jason's father was there. He was a very old man. Jason wanted his father to be king, so he asked Medea to make the old man young. Then Medea took her carriage and flew through the air. She did not come back for nine days. She picked flowers from the hills. She found all kinds of stones, too. * * * * * stick died woke When she went home she put all these things into a pot and cooked them. [Illustration: MEDEA MAKES THE OLD KING YOUNG.] Then she put a stick into the pot and leaves grew on it. Some of the juice fell on the ground and grass grew up. So Medea knew the juice would make things grow. Jason's father went to sleep and Medea put some of the juice into his mouth. His white hair turned black and teeth grew in his mouth. When he woke up, he looked and felt like a young man. He lived many years and when he died Jason was king. 
48908	----	YOUNG FOLKS' LIBRARY OF CHOICE LITERATURE. LEGENDS OF NORSELAND EDITED BY MARA L. PRATT, Author of "American History Stories," etc. Illustrated by A. CHASE EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY. BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. Copyrighted By EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY, 1894. CONTENTS. Page Valkyrie (Frontispiece) 6 The Beginning 7 Ygdrasil 12 Odin at the Well of Wisdom 17 Odin and the All-wise Giant 22 The Stolen Wine. Part I. 28 The Stolen Wine. Part II. 36 Loke's Theft 46 Thor's Hammer 53 The Theft of the Hammer 68 The Finding of the Hammer 76 The Apples of Life. Part I. 84 The Apples of Life. Part II. 97 Loke's Wolf 105 The Fenris-wolf 114 Defeat of Hrungner 121 Thor and Skrymer 132 Thor and the Utgard-King 143 Thor and the Midgard Serpent 155 Valkyries' Song 165 The Dying Baldur 167 The Punishment of Loke 178 The Darkness that fell on Asgard 185 LEGENDS OF NORSELAND. I. THE BEGINNING. In the beginning, when the beautiful and sunny world was first made, there stood, in the very midst of all its beauty, Mt. Ida--a mountain so high, so far away up among the snowy clouds, that its summit was lost in the shining light of the rays of the sun. At its base, stretching away to the north, the south, the east, and the west, as far as even the eyes of the gods could reach, lay the soft, green valleys and the great, broad plain beyond. Encircling the whole great plain, and curling lovingly around in all the little bends and bays of the distant shore, lay the deep blue waters; and beyond the waters, hidden in the distant mists, rose the great mountains in which the frost giants dwelt. On the top of Mt. Ida, the gods had built their shining city, Asgard; and from its golden gateway to the valley below was stretched the richly-colored, rainbow bridge, with its wonderful bars of red and yellow and blue, orange and green, indigo and purple. And in this shining city, where the gods dwelt, there was no sorrow, no grief, no pain of any kind. Never was the sun's light shut off by heavy clouds; never did the cruel lightnings flash, nor came their blights upon the harvest fields; never did the heavy rains fall, nor did the cold winds sweep down upon this shining city. But alas, there came a time when a shadow fell upon this city that shone so like a golden cloud resting upon the mountain peak. For the Fates, the three cruel sisters, came and took up their abode at the foot of the wonderful tree of Life, whose roots were in the earth, and whose branches, reaching high above the shining city, protected it from the sun's fierce heat and strong white light. And from that time even the gods themselves were no longer free from care and sorrow. Envy sprang up among the children of the great god, Odin; sickness, and even death, fell upon them; and the frost giants waged war with them,--a war that would never cease in all the ages that were to come, until that day when the sun's light went out forever, and the dark reign of Ragnarok fell upon the earth. It was a beautiful earth that lay stretched out at the foot of Mt. Ida. The fields were rich with grain; the trees were loaded with fruits; the sun shone warm and bright; but there were no harvesters, no gatherers of the fruit, no children to run and frolic in the sunshine. "The fair earth is desolate," said Odin to himself, as he looked down from his golden temple. "There should be people there, not gods and goddesses like us here upon Mt. Ida, but beings less powerful than we, beings who can love and enjoy, and whose children shall fill the earth with their happy voices. And the care of all these beings shall be mine." As he spoke, he, the All Father, passed down the rainbow bridge, out into the rich, green valley below. As he passed on beneath the trees, he saw standing together, their branches bending towards each other, a straight, strong Ash and a gentle, graceful Elm. "From these trees," said Odin to himself, "will I create the Earth people. The man I will name Ask, and the woman, Embla. It is a beautiful, sunny world: they should be very happy in it. How their children shall delight in the broad fields and the sunny slopes! And no harm shall come to them; for I, the All Father, will watch over them in all the age's to come." II. YGDRASIL. At the base of Mt. Ida stood Ygdrasil, the wonderful tree of Life. Never before nor since was there another such a tree. It had never had a beginning; it had never been young. Not even the oldest man, not even the gods themselves could say, "I remember when this great tree was a tender sapling, I remember when it sent forth its first tiny leaves, and how it rocked, and swayed, and shivered, and bent its timid head as the cold ice king swept over it." For there had never been a time since the beginning of the world when Ygdrasil had not stood there, tall and strong, one great root reaching down, down through the earth to the home of the dead, another stretching away, no one could tell how far, till it reached the home of the terrible giants, so fierce and cruel, so strong, and withal so wise, that even the gods themselves dreaded them and stood ever in terror of their approach. And its branches? So broad, so far reaching, so numerous were these, that they spread themselves protectingly over the whole earth, their top-most leaves rustling and whispering together above the golden palace of the gods, far up on the summit of the cloud-hidden Ida. Nor was this all. Hidden among the dense leaves lived a great white eagle. No one knew whence he came; no one had ever looked upon him; but there he sat, ages upon ages, singing forever the story of the creator of the earth and the wonderful deeds of the gods who dwell in the shining city of Asgard. The leaves of the tree sang sunset songs, and whispered to each other secrets, sometimes sad, sometimes gay, which even the gods, with all their wisdom, could not understand. At the foot of the tree, away down at the end even of the deepest, farthest root, lay the Well of Wisdom. Its waters were black. Sometimes they were very bitter, and few there were who had the courage and the perseverance to search out the hiding-place of this wonderful spring. Then, too, it was guarded by a grim old giant, Memory, who so loved this well, and so dreaded the approach of man or god to its waters, that he would not allow them even to touch their lips to it, until they had sworn to surrender to him whatever thing was dearest in life to them. This was a heavy price to pay for wisdom, and few there were who cared to pay it. "Will you give me your children?" "Will you give me your freedom?" "Will you give me your health?" "Will you give me your tongue, your ears, your eyes?" the old giant would ask of the mortals who came to drink of the waters of the Well of Wisdom. And always, when the mortals heard these questions, they grew pale and trembled with fear. "Go back to your homes," the old giant would thunder, "you desire wisdom it is true; but you are not willing to pay the price for it." Then the mortals would hurry away, their hearts beating with fear, their ears ringing with the thunderous tones of the terrible giant, who, since the earth was made, had sat at the foot of Ygdrasil guarding the secrets from all the world. III. ODIN AT THE WELL OF WISDOM. As Odin looked down from his home in Asgard and saw the people he had made from the ash and the elm trees, he sighed to himself and said, "These are my children. It is I who created them. They are innocent and pure and sweet." "But, alas, how little they know of life. By and by there will come to them danger and sorrow. The Ice King, the cruel tyrant, will breathe upon them, and the harvests will shrivel before their eyes; the rivers will be frozen, the trees will be bare, and there will be no food for them. As the years roll on, little children will come; these children will grow into manhood and womanhood, and other little children will follow. They are but mortals. Sickness and death will be their share; for I could not make them like the gods." And as Odin thought of all these things his heart grew sad. Almost he wished he had not made these helpless beings from the ash and the elm. He looked down into the sunny valley, where as yet no sorrow nor suffering had come. "Poor children!" he sighed. "What a world of wisdom Odin must possess to protect and guide and teach these earth-people that he has made." Just then Ask and Embla paused and looked up towards the shining city; for the sigh from Odin's heart had been so deep and long that the leaves of Ygdrasil had rustled, and a faint echo of it had swept even across the valley below. "What is it that sweeps sometimes across the valley, and moves the trees and the leaves, and so gently fans our cheeks?" asked Embla. "I often wonder," answered Ask. "It is very pleasant. Perhaps it is a message from the good Odin who made us and who gave us this sunny valley to play in." Then on they ran, hand in hand, happy children as they were, and in a moment had forgotten all about it. But Odin had not forgotten. "Frigg," said he to his goddess wife, "it is granted to us as gods to possess great wisdom. Still there remain many things we do not know. Below in the valley there have sprung into being a man and a woman. They are like us, Frigg, but they are not very wise. They need our care, even as our own dear Baldur needed our care when he was a very little child. I shall go to the Giant Memory, who guards the Well of Wisdom, and he shall give me a draught from the wonderful water. Then shall I be the all-wise, all-loving All-Father these children of the valley need." "O, but the price this cruel Giant will ask of you!" sobbed Frigg. "I would give my life for them," answered Odin tenderly. Then he turned from her, passed down the rainbow bridge to the valley, entered the great black, gaping cave and groped his way along the cold, dark passages that led to the Well of Wisdom. Three times the sun rose, three times the sun set. Then, just as the earth and the shining Asgard lay bathed in the rich, golden sunset light, Odin came forth again, passed up the rainbow bridge, and entered the great hall of the gods. "It is Odin," cried Frigg. Yes, it is Odin, the same Odin. But with a face so joyous, so radiant, so happy! For Odin had drank from the Well of Wisdom. The way had been dark; the struggle with the great Giant had been hard. But Odin had conquered; and now the joy that belongs always to the wise was his forevermore. IV. ODIN AND THE ALL-WISE GIANT. Away across the great sea of blue waters that curled about the shores of Midgard, the dwelling place of Odin's earth-children, were the dark, frowning, rock-bound mountains, the castles of the terrible giants whom even the gods feared. One of these giants, Vafthrudner, was known among them as the All-wise. "He is our chief. He is wiser even than the gods of Asgard," the giants sometimes would thunder across the wide blue sea. And indeed it was true; for none among the gods had yet been able to answer his questions; nor could they; neither could they ask of him one that he could not answer. "We will bear the insolence of this giant no longer," said Odin to Frigg. "I will go to him, and the race of giants shall know that at last Wisdom dwells not in Jotunheim but in the golden city of the gods,--the glorious, shining city of Asgard." "Who comes?" thundered Vafthrudner as Odin approached his mountain peak. "It is I--a mere traveller. But as I chanced to be journeying through your country, I heard of your wonderful wisdom. In my own country, far away to the west, I too am accounted somewhat wise. Let us test each other and learn which of us is wiser." "Test each other! Learn which is wiser!" bellowed the great giant, his voice echoing and re-echoing across the sea, until the very walls of the golden hall upon Mt. Ida trembled and the earth-children in the valley below clung to each other in fear. "Whichever one fails forfeits his life. You know that, I trust," added Vafthrudner with a sneer. "I know," answered Odin quietly. "But let us begin. Night will come upon us, and I must reach my home while the Sun-god is still above us." "You will never see your home again; so it matters little whether we begin early or late. However, tell me, foolish, vain earth-child that you are, what river is it that flows between this home of the All-powerful giants and the home of the gods?" "The name of that river is Ifing," answered Odin. "And I can tell you more than that. Because it touches upon the shores of the city of the gods, the Ice King, Njord, has no power over it. His breath cannot freeze it. Year after year, Njord tries to imprison its sparkling waters that you giants may cross upon its crust and attack the shining city. But it will never freeze. You will never cross it. Asgard is forever safe." The giant dropped his mighty jaw. His eyes stared like great suns of fire. His terrible frame trembled. Down came his club upon the floor of his great castle. Again Ask and Embla paled with fear as the valley shook beneath their feet. "Who are you?" roared the All-wise giant. "Who are you that you know that river's name? Who are you that you dare tell me I shall never cross to its farther shore?" "It matters little who I am," answered Odin, his eyes flashing, his beautiful figure growing taller and taller. "But listen now while I whisper into your ear my question." And with a mighty stride Odin crossed to Vafthrudner's throne, leaned forward, seized him by the shoulder, and hissed three words into the gigantic, cave-like ear. What those words were, no man ever knew. Forever they shall remain a secret between Vafthrudner and the All-Father Odin. The giant paled, staggered to his feet, groaned and fell. The walls of the great hall swayed to and fro. The lightning flashed, the thunder pealed from peak to peak. Odin had conquered. The All-Father was now the All-loving and the All-wise too. And as such, was ever after acknowledged by all living creatures,--gods and men, dwarfs and giants. V. THE STOLEN WINE. Part I. There had lain for ages upon ages, hidden away in the great rocky cellar of one of the giant's castles, a cask of wine, which had been stolen from the gods. Never before had the gods been able to learn what had become of it; what giant had stolen it, nor in what castle it was hidden. But now that Odin had become All-wise, nothing could be concealed from him. "I know at last where the wine lies hidden," said Odin one day to his son, Thor; "and I shall set forth to find it." Thor brought down his hammer with a thud. "Let me go with you," cried he, springing up. "And let me fell to the earth with one blow of my magic hammer the giant who has stolen, and has kept hidden all these ages our precious wine." "No;" answered Odin, "this time I must go alone. The wine is guarded day and night, and it will not be easy to bring it away, even when I have found it. But watch for me, dear son. One day there will come, beating its wings against the shining gates of our city, a great white eagle. Do not harm the eagle. Open the gates to him; for that eagle will be Odin, returning with the stolen wine to our city of Asgard." Then Odin put aside his sparkling crown and laid down his sceptre. His wonderful blue mantle, studded with stars and fastened always with a pale crescent moon, he also threw aside, and stepped forth in the garb of a common laborer. "It is in this guise that I shall win my way to the giant's castle," said Odin; and in a second he had passed out from the hall and was gone. It was the giant, Suttung, that had stolen the wine, and it was in his castle that it had lain hidden all these years. Now, of all the strong castles of all the giants, Suttung's castle was the strongest. The cellar was cut into the solid rock. Moreover, three sides of the castle rose in solid walls of granite; while the fourth, no less firm and strong, was built of massive blocks bound with hoops and bars and bolts of strongest iron and steel. Now, Suttung had a brother, Bauge, who was a giant farmer. He kept nine strong slaves, half giants themselves, to do his work for him. As Odin approached the fields of Bauge's farm, he saw the nine men hard at work. "Your scythes are dull," said he, as he drew near. "Yes, but we have no whetstone to sharpen them upon," answered the workmen, the great drops standing out upon their foreheads. "I will sharpen them on mine," said Odin, drawing one from his pocket. "It is a magic whetstone!" cried the men as they saw it work. "Give it to us. We need it more than you. Give it to us. Give it to us." "Take it, then," answered Odin, throwing it high in the air and walking off. "It is mine! It is mine! Let me have it! Give it to me! I will have it! Out of the way! It shall be mine!" screamed and quarreled the nine men as they pushed and crowded, each one determined to catch the whetstone as it came down to earth. At last it fell. Then a fiercer battle followed. The angry men fell upon each other. They dragged and pulled and threw each other to the ground. They pounded each other; they struck at each other with their scythes. On and on they fought. Hour after hour the battle waged; till at last the Sun-god, in sheer dismay at so unloving a sight, hid his face behind the hills, and the nine men lay dead upon the fields. It was an hour later when Odin reached the castle of Bauge. "Can you give me shelter for the night?" he asked, as the giant appeared at the door of his castle. "Yes, I can give you shelter; but you must look elsewhere for your breakfast. A strange thing has happened. My nine slaves, while at work in the field, have fallen in battle upon each other, and have killed each other. Not one of them is left alive to serve me." "They must have been idle, quarrelsome fellows," answered Odin. "They were, indeed," answered Bauge; "but how shall I get my work done without them?" "I will do the work for you," answered Odin. "You! There is but one of you, even if you were willing to try," answered Bauge with but little interest. "But I can do the work of any nine workmen that ever served you." The giant laughed. "A remarkable workman. Pray, do you ask the wages of nine men as well?" "I ask no wages," answered Odin. "I only ask that, as my pay when the work is done, you shall give me a draught of wine from the cask hidden in your brother's cellar." Bauge stared. "How did you know there is a cask in my brother's cellar?" he gasped. "It is enough that I know it," answered Odin coldly. Bauge looked at Odin. "He is better than no man," he thought to himself. "I may as well get what work from him I can, before he finds that no being on earth can enter that cellar or force my brother to give away one drop of that wine." "Very well, you may go to work," he said aloud. "I cannot promise you that we can make our way into my brother's cellar; but I will do what I can to help you." "That is all I ask," answered Odin. "Now let me sleep, for I am tired; and if I am to do nine men's work, I must have nine men's sleep." "And must you have nine men's food?" cried Bauge. "I think it very likely," answered Odin with a queer smile. "Now let me sleep." VI. THE STOLEN WINE. Part II. "What is your name?" asked Bauge of his new workman when they set forth the next morning to the fields. "You may call me Bolverk," answered Odin. "Will one name be enough for all nine of you?" said Bauge with a disagreeable curling of his upper lip. "I will not burden your giant mind with more than one," Odin answered,--a funny little twinkle in his eye. The giant gave a furious grunt. He did not quite know whether his new workman was stupid, or, whether under all his seeming meekness, it might not be that he was making fun of him. Well, Bauge set Bolverk to work, and then, lazy fellow that he was, stretched himself out on a mountain side to watch. "That new workman of mine," he bellowed, calling the attention of a neighbor giant to Odin at work in the field; "do you see him down there among the corn? He says he can do nine men's work." "A workman usually thinks himself equal to any nine other workingmen," roared back the neighbor. "Of course you have agreed to give him nine men's wages?" Then the two giants roared with laughter. They thought they had said a very bright thing, and very likely they had. It is only because you and I are mere earth-children that we do not think so too. As the days went on, Bauge began to laugh less and to wonder more at his strange workman. He worked on quietly from sunrise till sunset. He did not seem to hurry in his work; he did not work over hours. But, strange to say, the work went on, as the workman had promised. No nine men could have done more or could have done it better. It was harvest time when Odin came; the time when Frey, the god of the fields and of all that grows, glides around among his children and covers them over, or gathers in their wealth and beauty. Like the kind, loving father he is, he whispers to them now of Njord who so soon will come, sweeping across the earth, breathing his cold freezing breath upon all the world, and covering it over with the cold white sheet that kills the flowers and the fruits. He teaches his children to curl themselves up beneath the earth until the cruel Njord is gone. For Njord seeks to kill the tiny leaves and buds, and shrivel the radiant flowers, that, through all the long warm summer days, have lifted their faces so brightly to their good friend, the Sun-god. Perhaps it was because Frey and Odin worked together that there were such rare crops, and that the harvesting went on so smoothly. Certain it was that all the fields were cleared, the cellars were filled, and all was ready for the long, cold months to come, when cruel Njord was king. Even Bauge was in good humor. "You are indeed a wonderful workman," he said to Odin, as the last cellar was fastened and he sat down to rest. "You are kind," answered Odin, the funny little twinkle coming again into his eyes. "Perhaps you would be willing to come with me now to your brother, that I may drink from the cask of wine that he keeps so closely guarded in his cellar." Bauge began to feel uncomfortable. "He will not allow either you or me to so much as look upon that wine. You cannot have it." "Bauge," said Odin, growing very tall and godlike, his wonderful eyes flashing with a light like fire, "you promised to do all you could to help me. Come and do as I bid you." Bauge stared. His first thought was to kill the workman on the spot: but there was a something about him, he hardly knew what, that made him, instead, rise and follow Odin to the brother's castle. "Tell me which cellar holds the wine," said Odin when they had reached the brother's mountain. "This one," answered Bauge. "Now take this augur. Make a hole with it through the solid wall." Bauge obeyed like one in a dream. It was a magic augur. How it worked! How the powdered stone flew in a cloud about his face! "This is a very--" Bauge stopped. What had become of his workman? Not a soul was in sight. Odin had disappeared. And to this day the giant never knew what became of him, nor does his brother know who stole his wine from the cellar. The stupid Bauge stood staring, now at the augur, now at the hole in the wall. He saw a little worm climb up the wall and disappear through the hole. That is all he ever saw or ever knew. The little worm laughed to itself as it crept in out of sight. "You are very stupid, Bauge, not to know me." Reaching the inner side of the wall, the little worm stopped to look about. There stood the cask; and beside it sat the daughter of the giant. "Poor girl," said Odin--I mean, said the worm--to himself. "It is a bitter fate to be doomed to sit forever in this wretched dungeon watching your father's stolen treasure. But be happy. Soon you will be free. There will be no wine to watch." The young giantess must have heard his words. For she looked up. There, just in front of the hole, the ray of light falling full upon his golden hair, stood a most beautiful youth. He looked so kindly upon her, and his eyes were so full of pity! Her heart went out to him at once. "I am very tired," said he gently. "So very tired. I have come a long, long distance. My home is far from here. I cannot tell you how far--but very, very far. If you would give me just one draught from the cask of wine." The poor girl, grateful for the sound of a friendly voice, and for the sight of a human face, arose and lifted the lid for him. Odin leaned over the cask. He put his lips to the wine and drank. "You are very thirsty," said the giantess. "Very," answered Odin, drinking on and on. "You are very thirsty," said the giantess again. "Very," answered Odin, still drinking on and on and on. "You are very thirsty," said the giantess again; this time louder, her voice filled with fear. "Very," answered Odin, still drinking on and on and on and on. Nor did he stop till every drop was gone and the cask stood dry and empty. The young giantess, realizing all too late that the wine was stolen, ran to the cellar gateway, shouting as only a giant can shout for help. The gateway flew open. In rushed the giants, Bauge and his brother. "The wine! the wine!" they cried. "Stolen, stolen!" sobbed the giantess, her sobs shaking even the solid cellar walls. "The thief! The thief!" cried the giants. "Where is the thief?" But there was no thief to be found. There stood the empty cask. But the thief? There was no living creature to be seen. No living creature? I should not have said quite that. For there arose from a darkened corner of the cellar a beautiful, great white bird. Its wings brushed against the sides of the gateway as it passed. Then higher and higher, up, up, far, far away beyond the sea, above the clouds it soared, nor rested till its great wings beat against the golden bars of the shining gates of Asgard. VII. LOKE'S THEFT. Thor was the son of Odin. He was a brave young god; and when the frost giants came sweeping down upon the shining city, none were more brave to fight for the protection of Asgard, the beautiful home of the gods, than Thor, the son of Odin. There was another son, Loke. A cruel, wicked, idle, evil-hearted god was he, the sorrow of his father Odin, the grief of his mother Frigg, and the terror of all the gods and goddesses. Over this son the great Odin wept often bitter tears. More bitter still since he had drunk from the Well of Wisdom; for since then knowing, as he did, all things past and future, he knew that a day was yet to come, when, because of this wicked Loke, the light would go out from the earth; damp and cold and darkness would fall upon the shining city; the frost giants would overcome the gods; and there would come an end to all life. Nor was there any escape nor hope for any help. This fate, the Norns had decreed should be; and through the evil-hearted Loke it was to come. In the golden hall of the gods dwelt Thor; and with him, his beautiful wife, Sif. Of all the goddesses there was none like her. Her eyes were of heaven's own blue; and the light in them was borrowed from the stars. Her hair was of yellow, yellow gold; and as it lay massed above her pure white brow, it vied with the golden light of harvest time in softness and rich, deep color. One happy peaceful day, when there was no danger abroad, and rest and peace had spread themselves above the halls of the city of Asgard, Sif lay sleeping. The Sungod's covering of soft warm rays fell upon her, and the leaves of Ygdrasil had spread themselves above her in tender, loving protection. Loke, the idle one, angry and revengeful, as he always was, when happiness and rest and peace had driven out sorrow and care, paced angrily up and down the golden streets, his deep black frowns darkening even the clear, white light of heaven. He came upon the beautiful sleeping wife of Thor. "I hate my brother," he hissed through his cruel teeth. "And how proud he is of this golden hair of Sif's." The wicked light flashed from his deep black eyes. Softly, like a thief, he crept towards the sleeping Sif. He seized the golden hair in his hand. A cruel smile shone over his evil face. "Boast now of your beauty, O Sif," he sneered. "Boast now of your Sif's golden hair, O Thor," he growled. And with one great sweep of his shining knife, he cut from the beautiful head the whole mass of gold. It was late when Sif awoke. The leaves of Ygdrasil were moaning for the cruel deed. The Sun was sinking sorrowfully below the distant mountain peaks. "O my gold! my gold!" sobbed Sif. "O who has stolen from me in my sleep my gold? O Thor, Thor! You were so proud of the gold. It was for you I prized it,--my beautiful, beautiful gold!" At that second the voice of Thor was heard. His heavy call echoed across the skies and pealed from cloud to cloud. He was angry; for he had heard Sif's bitter cry and felt some harm had come to her. "It is Loke that has done this," he thundered; and again his voice rolled from cloud to cloud. The very mountain peaks across the sea in the country of the Frost giants rocked and reeled. The waters foamed and tossed; the scorching lightnings flashed from his eyes; the whole sky was as one great sheet of fire. The earth-children trembled as they had never trembled before. Even Loke, shivering with fear, cowered behind the golden pillars of the great arched gateway. "Forgive me, forgive me!" wailed he, as Thor flashed his great white light upon him. "Out from your hiding place, O coward! Out! Out, or my thunderbolts shall strike you dead." "Spare me, spare me!" groaned Loke. "Only spare me, and I will go down into the earth where the dwarfs do dwell--" "Go!" thundered Thor, not waiting for the wretched god to finish. "Go, and bring back to me a crown of golden threads, woven and spun in the smithies of the dwarfs, that shall be as beautiful, and ten thousand times more beautiful, than the golden crown you have stolen from the head of Sif. Go to them, tell them what you have done, and never again enter the shining gateway of the city of our Father Odin until you bring the crown." Loke slunk away, the thunders of the wrath of Thor slowly, slowly following him. The lightnings flashed dully across the skies. The low rumbling of thunder, distant but threatening, warned Loke that the wrath of Thor was not appeased, neither would it be, nor would there be any return to Asgard for the evil doer, until the crown of gold was won. VIII. THOR'S HAMMER. It was away down in the underground caves, and beneath the roaring waters of the rivers, and deep in the hearts of the mountains that these dwarf workmen dwelt, and worked their smithies, and spun their gold and brass. "Make me a crown of gold for Sif the wife of Thor," snarled Loke, bursting in upon the workshop of the dwarfs. The dwarfs were ugly little creatures, with crooked legs, and crooked backs. Their eyes were black, wicked little beads of eyes, and their hearts were malicious and sometimes cruel. But they were the willing and ready slaves of the gods; and so, at even this ill-natured command from Loke, they set themselves to work. The coals burned and blazed; the forges puffed and blew; the little workmen moulded and turned and spun their gold. Hardly had the Sun-god lifted his head above the castles of the frost giants, hardly had his light fallen upon the rich colors of the rainbow bridge, when Loke came forth from the underground caves, the shining crown in his hand. Quickly he rose high in the air and stood before the gates of the city. "Have you brought the crown?" thundered Thor from within the gates. "I have brought the crown," answered Loke in triumph. "And more than that," added he, when the gates had been opened to him, "I have brought as gifts from the dwarfs, a ship that will sail on land or sea and a spear that never fails. O there are no such workmen among any dwarfs as these who made the spear, the ship and the crown." "You boast of what you do not know," croaked Brok, a little dwarf who stood near by. "Who says I do not know?" cried Loke, turning sharply. "I say you do not know," croaked the little dwarf again, his beadlike eyes snapping angrily, his whole crooked frame quivering with rage. "I have a brother, a workman in brass and gold, who can make gifts more pleasing to the gods than any you have brought." Loke looked down upon the little dwarf in scorn. "Go to your brother," he sneered, "and bring to us the wonderful things you think he can make. Bring us one gift more wonderful than these I have, or more acceptable to Odin and Thor, and I will give your brother my head to pay him for his efforts." Then Loke roared with laughter, believing that he had made a rare, rich joke. Hardly had the roars of laughter died away, when Brok, gliding down the rainbow bridge with a swiftness equalled only by the lightning, sprang into Midgard, and was making his way towards the great mountain, beneath which worked the forges of his brother, the master-workman--Sindre. "Some one cometh," said the dwarfs, pausing in their work to listen, their busy hammers in mid-air. "Fear not," answered Brok, his harsh voice echoing down the great halls. "It is I--Brok--and I come to demand of you that now, if never again, you do your best; for Loke boasts to the gods of Asgard that no dwarfs in all the caverns of the under-world can make one gift more wonderful or more acceptable to Odin than those he brings--a crown of gold, a ship that will sail on land or sea, and a spear that never fails!" A terrible roar burst forth from the hosts of angry dwarfs. "We will see! We will see!" they thundered. And seizing their hammers they set to work. The great forges blazed. The sparks flew. The smoke poured forth from the mountain top. Loke, looking out from the shining city, trembled. Well did he know the workmanship of these dwarfs of Brok; and well did he know how rash had been his scornful promise to the angry little dwarf. "We will make a hammer for Thor," said Sindre, the greatest among the workmen in this under world; "a hammer, that when thrown from his mighty hand, shall ring through all the heavens. A trail of fire shall follow it. Its aim shall never fail; and it shall carry death and destruction wherever it falls. "Blow thou the bellows, Brok; and I myself will mould the hammer from the red hot iron." With Brok at the bellows, the very mountain rocked, and Midgard for miles about was ablaze with the blaze of light from the mountain top. "This shall not be," snarled Loke. And rushing down from Asgard he crouched outside the great, black cave to listen. "A hammer for Thor!" Those were the words he heard. The ugly face grew uglier. An instant, and there was no Loke at the cavern mouth; but instead, a poisonous, stinging gadfly, whose green back glistened, and whose shining wings buzzed and hummed with cruelty and revenge. There was a hard, ringing tone of defiance in their singing, and the tone was like that of the voice of Loke himself. "You shall drop the bellows," buzzed the gadfly bitterly, as it alighted upon the neck of Brok. It was a cruel sting; and its poison forced, even from the sturdy Brok, a cry of pain. "I know you. It is Loke," he cried; "but I will not drop the bellows though you sting me through and through and with a thousand stings!" The gadfly buzzed with rage. Straight towards the hand upon the bellows it darted. Brok groaned again. His face grew pale; he quivered with the pain; still he held the mighty bellows and worked the roaring forge. "You will not!" hissed the gadfly; and again it drove its poison sting, this time straight between the eyes of the suffering dwarf. And now Brok staggered. His hands relaxed their hold. Blinded with pain, he dropped the bellows. The blood ran down his face. The gadfly still hummed and buzzed. "You have nearly spoiled it," cried Sindre. "Why did you drop the bellows? See how short the handle is! And how rough! But it cannot be helped now; nor will its terror be any less to Loke. Ha, ha, I would have made it handsome; but there is a power in it that shall make even the gods tremble in all the ages to come. Hurry away with it, and place it in Thor's mighty hands. And here are other gifts. Take them all, and bring me Loke's head. He has promised. Surely even he must keep his word, wicked and deceitful though he is." Brok seized the hammer, and, with the gifts, hurried up through the dark cavern, out into the light of Midgard, up the rainbow bridge, and, with triumph in his swarthy face, sprang into the presence of the great god Odin. Loke roared with laughter at the sight of the awkward, clumsy hammer; but there was a proud, confident look in the dwarf's shining eyes that Loke did not like; and, coward that he was, his heart began already to fail him. "Let us see the gifts," said Odin, "that we may judge which workman among the dwarfs has proved himself most wonderful." "First of all," said Loke, coming forward, "Here is the golden crown for Sif." Eagerly Thor seized the crown, and placed it upon poor Sif's head. "Wonderful! wonderful!" cried all the gods, for straightway the golden hair began to grow to Sif's head, and in a second it was as if her golden locks had never been stolen from her. "To you, O Odin," said the dwarf, now coming forward, "I give this ring of gold. It is a magic ring; and each night it will cast off from itself another ring, as pure and as heavy, as round and as large as itself." "What is that," sneered Loke, "compared with this? See, O Father Odin, I bring you a magic spear. Accept this, my second gift. It is a magic spear that never fails." "But behold my second gift," interrupted Brok. "It is a boar of wonderful strength. It, too, is magic. No horse can run, no bird can fly with such speed. It travels both on land and sea; and in the night its bristles shine with such a light, that it matters not how dense the blackness, the forest or the plain will be as bright as noonday." "I, too, have a gift that will travel on land or sea," cried Loke, pushing himself forward again. "See, it is a ship. And not only will it travel on land or sea, but it can lift itself and sail like a bird above the clouds and through the air." "It will be hard indeed to say which gift is greatest," said Odin kindly. "Look now, O, Odin, and Frigg and Thor and Sif and all the gods, at this the last of my three gifts. This hammer, O Thor, I bring to you, the god of thunder. Strike with it, and your thunders shall echo and re-echo from cloud to cloud as never they were heard before. Thrown into the air or at a foe, like Loke's spear, it shall never miss its aim; but, more than that, it shall return always to the hand of Thor. No foe can conceal it, no foe can destroy it. It will never fail thee, O Thor, thou god of thunder." "But what a clumsy handle," sneered Loke, who already began to fear the hammer was to win the favor of the gods. "Yes," answered Brok, "the handle is clumsy and it is short. But none knows better than you why it is so." Loke colored and moved uneasily. "Do not think," continued Brok, "that I do not know it was you who sent the poisonous gadfly to sting and bite me as I worked at the blazing forge, pounding out the brass and gold from which this hammer is made. "You thought to pain me into giving up this contest, you coward! you evil one! you boaster! "When the handle was welded just so far, you drove the gadfly into my eye. I could not see to finish the work; but although the handle is short and clumsy, the magic power is there, and with it in his hand, no power in earth or among the frost giants even can overcome our great god Thor." A ringing shout of joy arose from the gods. Thor swung his hammer over his head and threw it far out against the clouds. The thunder rolled, the clouds filled with blackness, and the lightnings flashed, as the magic hammer, humming through the air, came back to the hands of Thor. "Now give me my wager," cried Brok. "I was promised the head of Loke." "Take it," laughed Loke. "Take it." Brok drew near. "I will take it," he hissed through his set teeth; "and a rich day will it be both in Midgard and in Asgard when your miserable head is bound down in the home of the dwarfs of the underground world." "But halt," commanded Loke. "My head you may have; but you must not touch my neck. One drop of blood from that, and you forfeit your life." Brok stood for a moment white with anger. He knew that he was foiled. Then springing forward, he thundered, "I may not touch your neck; but see, I have my revenge." And so, falling upon Loke, who struggled, but struggled in vain, he whipped from his mantle a thong and thread of brass; and before even Loke knew what had been done, he had sewed, firm together, the lying boasting lips of the evil god, Loke, the wicked-hearted son of Odin. XI. THE THEFT OF THE HAMMER. It was to the sweet and loving god Baldur that the earth owed its warmth and beauty, its rich fruit and its rare harvests. How the frost giants hated Baldur, and how they struggled year after year to wrest the earth from him! They hated the warmth Baldur brought with him, for it destroyed their power. They hated the sweet flowers and the soft grass and the tiny leaves that everywhere peeped out when the winds whispered, "Baldur is coming, Baldur is coming." But no sooner had Baldur turned away and said, "Good-bye, dear Earth, for a little time, remember Baldur loves you and will come back again to you," than the frost giants would creep out from their mountain gorges, and burst forth upon the fields and forests. The tiny bubbling brooks they would seal with their cruel chains of ice; even the great rivers could not hold their freedom against the giant power. Like angry fiends they would seize upon the leaves and tear them from the trees. The tiny flowers hung their heads and shriveled with fear when they approached; nor were the frost giants content until the whole earth lay brown and cold and barren beneath their hand. Then, all beauty swept away, they covered over all, their silent sheet of snow, and stood, grim sentinels, cold and hard, guarding their work of destruction and desolation. There was deep silence when the frost giants reigned; no sound was heard save the sad moaning among the branches of the forest, as the firs and pine trees bent towards each other and whispered of the days when Baldur shone upon them. But the frost giants never yet had conquered; never yet had Baldur failed to return to the trees and flowers and rivers and streams that he loved so well. At his first step upon the ice, a crackling sound was heard--a sound which awoke the sleeping earth and warned the frost giants to flee to their mountains. "Baldur has come! Baldur has come!" the birds and every living thing would cry; and a rustle and sound of music would thrill the waiting earth. Then came always a mighty battle. The frost giants lashed the waters and rocked the trees. The winds shrieked, the sky grew cold and black. The snows fell and the driving rain beat against the earth. But Baldur, the quiet, firm, loving Baldur always conquered. How, he himself could hardly tell. He did not fight; he did not storm. He only bent his shining face over the struggling earth and waited. Little by little, when their fury was spent, the frost giants, defiant but conquered, retreated. The great sheets of ice broke up, and the rivers rushed forth singing their mad songs of joy and freedom. The snows faded away, and one by one the little flowers peeped forth again. All now was happiness and warmth and fragrance; the flowers bloomed; the fruits turned mellow; the sky grew warm; and the pines and fir trees breathed deep sighs of rest and contentment that once again sweet Baldur was among them. And not only did the frost giants hate Baldur, but they hated Frey, who often robbed them of the fruits and flowers they loved to breathe their bitter breath upon and kill. Thor, too, they hated; for with his magic hammer, he now, more than ever, loved to bring forth the lightnings and the thunder, and to send down upon the earth refreshing showers of soft, warm rain. As the frost giants scowled down from their icy castles, and saw the little flowers turn up their happy faces to drink in the sparkling drops, and heard the birds trill their happy songs, and smelled the rich fragrance of the damp firs and pines, they roared with anger and vexation. "Let us revenge ourselves upon this insolent Thor who robs us of our rights," they bellowed to each other across the great valleys that separated their giant peaks. "We can do nothing so long as he holds the magic hammer," growled one. "We must steal the hammer from him," shouted another. "Steal the hammer! Steal the hammer!" shouted all the giants until the very skies echoed with the words. "And I will be the one to steal it," bellowed Thrym, the strongest and greatest giant of them all. "And, moreover, I will go at once to the city of Asgard. The gods are asleep. With my great eye, I can see even now the hammer lying beside the sleeping Thor. Guard my castle. I am gone." And putting on the guise of a great bird, Thrym spread his wings and flew across the black night to Asgard. The gods shivered in their sleep as he entered and breathed his breath upon the summer air of heaven, but knew not what had chilled them. In the morning there was a heavy frost upon the gateways. There was a chill in the air. For Thrym, the frost giant, had crept in upon them. He had crept even to the hall in which the mighty Thor was sleeping. He had crept close beside the mighty god--and the magic hammer was gone. XII. THE FINDING OF THE HAMMER. "My hammer! My hammer!" thundered Thor, awaking and finding it gone. The gods in all Asgard awoke with a start. "What a crash of thunder! So quick, so sharp!" cried the earth-people; for they did not know it was a cry of rage from Thor. "Loke," thundered Thor again. "Put you on wings. Go you to the home of the Frost giants and bring back my hammer. Some one of them has stolen it. Go! Go! I say." And Loke, who had been a very obedient servant to Thor since his theft of the golden hair of Sif, put on the magic wings and fled away. "What brings you here in the land of the Frost giants?" growled Thrym, as Loke alighted before him. "I have come for the hammer you have stolen from Thor," answered Loke boldly, seeing at once, from the jeering look in Thrym's eye, that he was the thief. "You will never find it," sneered Thrym. "It is well hidden; but I will send it back to you if Odin will send me Freyja for my wife." Loke begged and coaxed and threatened; but it was all of no avail. "Never," bellowed Thrym, "until you send Freyja to me." "She shall go," thundered Thor, when Loke came back to Asgard. "Whatever the price, the hammer must be brought back. Asgard is not safe without it." But Freyja was as fierce as had been Thrym himself. "I will not go," she insisted. "Never! Never! Never will I go!" "I say you must," thundered Thor. But although Thor's thunders were terrible and his frown was deep and inky black, Freyja was not to be moved either by pleading or threatening. "Go yourself," said she. "Dress yourself as a goddess and go." Nor would she listen even to another word. Thor thundered and rumbled and rolled. It was all of no avail. Freyja was a goddess and would not be driven. "I will go," said Thor at last. "Bring me a bridal dress. Hang a necklace around my neck. Bind a bridal veil about my head. The giants are as stupid as they are large; and I will set forth in the name of Freyja to meet the giant Thrym." Thor was quickly dressed, and the bridal party set forth across the sky in the chariot of the Sungod. How the thunder rolled! How the lightnings flashed from the angry eyes of Thor! How he grumbled and rumbled! Jotunheim was reached. The Sungod lowered his chariot behind the hills; and a soft, red light spread over the earth and sky as the bridal party entered the castle of the giant Thrym. "Freyja has come! Freyja has come!" bellowed Thrym. "Come, come, everyone to the bridal feast! Come, come to the feast of Thrym and Freyja!" The giants in all the mountains round about answered to the call of Thrym. An hour, and the huge castle was filled with the huge guests. A great feast was held. But through it all Thor sat silent and motionless. Indeed, he dared not move; he dared not speak lest the thunder burst forth from his lips, or the lightning shoot forth from his eyes. "Now lift the veil from Freyja's face," bellowed Thrym, when all save the bride herself had eaten and drank their fill. "Let me see the eyes of my bride. Let us all look upon the face of my goddess bride." "Not yet," whispered Loke coming forward; "it was the command of Thor that the veil should not be lifted, nor should you claim Freyja for your own, until the hammer was placed in her hand, to be returned to the gods." "Bring in the hammer! Bring in the hammer!" roared Thrym, full of loud, good humor. The hammer was brought. Hardly could Thor wait to have it placed in his hand. His thunder began to rumble. There was a dangerous light in his eyes; but Thrym and the guests saw none of this. But hardly was the hammer within his reach when forth Thor sprang, seized it in his clutched fingers, tore aside the bridal veil, and with a rumble and a roar that shook the mountains of Jotunheim and razed the great stone castles to the ground, he poured out his lightnings upon the giants, one and all. Right and left he swung the mighty weapon; the giants quaked and trembled with terror; Thrym ran and hid himself behind a mountain; the air was white with lightning; the hills rang with the crashings of the thunder; the seas lashed and foamed and answered back the echoes; the walls of Jotunheim shook and trembled. And now the chariot of the Sungod was near at hand. Into it Thor and Loke leaped, and were borne back to the city of the gods. The hammer was restored. Again Thor held it in his mighty grasp. He held it, and Asgard once more was safe. XIII. THE APPLES OF LIFE. Part I. Among the gods in Asgard, dwelt the beautiful Idun, the goddess whose care it was to guard the apples of life. "Idun," Odin had said as he gave into her hands the rosy apples, "to guard these apples and keep them forever from all harm, is to do a greater service for Asgard than even Thor, with his mighty thunders, or Baldur, with his warm light, can do; for these are the apples of everlasting youth. Without them, what would Asgard be more than the cities of Midgard or of Jotunheim? What would the gods be more than the mortals of Midgard or the giants of Jotunheim? So guard them well, beautiful Idun, for to them you owe your beauty, even as we owe to them our never fading youth." One day, when all was quiet and peaceful and happy in the city of Asgard, Loke, feeling within him the stirring of his own evil heart, betook himself to Midgard in search of mischief. The peace and quiet of Asgard he could no longer endure. Then, too, it was to him a cruel delight to shoot his arrows into the lives of the helpless children of Midgard and make them sad. O, Loke was a cruel god! "Surely," Odin would sometimes say, as he looked upon him and thought of the wretchedness that yet would fall on Asgard through Loke's wicked deeds, "surely, Loke has the spirit of a Frost giant; and the Frost giants are bitter, bitter foes to Asgard." This day Loke longed for mischief. "I will go down to Midgard and find some happy heart to sadden," said he, his eyes shining with their wicked light. Down the rainbow bridge he hastened, and, with a light bound, sprang upon a bright tree in the beautiful land of Midgard. "Who are you?" cried he, seeing in the tree beside him a great, white bird. But the bird made no reply; he only winked, and blinked, and stared at Loke, and crooned, and pruned his feathers. "Do you not know a god speaks to you?" stormed Loke, growing angry even with a bird. Still no answer. "Was ever there such a stupid bird? Indeed, like the people of Midgard, you seem to have no wisdom," sneered Loke. And determined to vent his evil mood, he seized a branch and began to beat the bird. Then a strange thing happened. The bird, who all this time had seemed so stupid--too stupid even to fly away--now seized upon the bough and held it fast. Loke pulled and pulled with all his godlike strength. He could not move it; it was as if held in the grasp of a giant. "Stupid bird!" sneered Loke, when he found he could do the bird no harm. "I will not stay in the tree with such a stupid creature." A strange sound--almost like a laugh of triumph--squeezed itself out from the beak of the big bird. "Go, Loke, go at once. Go back to Asgard; or perhaps you would like to go with me to Jotunheim," spoke the bird at last. And as he spoke, he spread his wings, and arose high in the air. Alas, alas for Loke, as the bird rose, he rose too; nor could he free himself. He screamed, he fought, he begged, he strove with all his godlike arts to free himself, but all in vain. On, on they flew, the bird and Loke, across the sky, over and under and between the clouds, across the great wide sea, at last across the snow-white peaks, down, down to a castle in Jotunheim, in the land of the mighty Frost giants, the terrible, the dreaded enemies of the gods. "Let me free! Let me free!" foamed Loke, struggling against the bird, whose magic held him fast. "I will never let you free," answered the bird, throwing off his disguise and standing forth a giant foe; "I will never let you free except on one condition." "I grant it! I grant it! Whatever it is, I grant it," cried the coward, caring for nothing but to free himself. "The condition is this," continued the giant coolly: "I will let you free if you will bring me, without delay, the apples of everlasting youth--the apples that Idun guards and watches over, locked so closely in the golden casket in the city of Asgard." Loke stared. He caught his breath. To give up the apples of life--the fruit by which the gods were kept forever young and strong and beautiful,--that was too great a thing to ask even of Loke, evil as he was. "There are no such apples," answered he, trying, as cowards always do, to hide himself behind a lie. "There are no such apples." "Very well," answered the giant, opening a great dungeon door, and thrusting Loke in. "When you are ready to do what I say, you may come out; never until then." The great dungeon door creaked upon its terrible hinges and Loke was alone, a prisoner, at the mercy of the Frost giant. Loke howled and beat against the walls of the dungeon. "Are you ready to do what I asked of you?" asked the Frost giant, opening the great door the next morning. "There are no such apples," cried Loke. "On my honor as a god, I swear it!" The giant made no reply. The heavy door creaked again, and Loke was alone. "Are you ready to do what I asked of you?" asked the Frost giant, opening the great door the second morning. "Anything in all Asgard, O Giant, I promise you--anything but the apples," cried Loke. The giant made no reply. The heavy door creaked again, and Loke was alone. "Are you willing to do what I asked of you?" asked the Frost giant, opening the great door the third morning. "One of the apples, O Giant, I might steal from Idun and escape with before the fruit was missed," Loke began. The giant made no reply. The heavy door creaked again and Loke was alone. "Are you ready to do what I asked of you?" asked the Frost giant, opening the great door the fourth morning. "Yes, two of the three apples will I promise to bring you. With even one left, the gods might be content; for even then their lives would be far longer than the life of mortals." The giant made no reply. The heavy door creaked again and Loke was alone. "Are you ready to do what I asked of you?" asked the Frost giant, opening the great door the fifth morning. "Yes," answered Loke, meekly. "You are willing to bring the apples of life?" "Yes." "And you will bring all three of them?" "Yes." "And you will bring them at once?" "Yes." "Go, then. I will go with you. Outside the walls of the shining city I will wait for you to bring the apples to me." Then putting on the guise of birds, the two set forth, reaching the gateway of the city just as the Sungod was pouring down his flood of red and golden light upon the shining spires. The whole city lay bathed in the sunset splendor. "Idun," said Loke, going directly to her, "it is well you guard so closely these golden apples of life. Without them we should grow old and die, even as wretched mortals grow old and die." "Indeed, it would fare ill with us if harm came to these precious apples," answered Idun. "See the rich bloom upon them. If that were lost, then would our bloom be lost as well, and we should grow old and wrinkled." "Yes," answered Loke; "and still--it seems very strange--but outside the gate of our city, just on the outer walls, are growing apples, looking so like these I cannot tell them one from the other. Bring your apples with you and let us see if they are alike. If they should prove to be, then I will gather them for you, and we will put them all together in the golden casket." "How strange!" thought Idun innocently. The Frost giant, in his great bird guise, wheeled round and round, impatiently awaiting the coming of Idun and the apples. Hardly had the gates closed upon her, when down he swooped, seized her in his great strong beak, and flew with her across the sea to his home among the mountains. The days rolled on and on. The Sungod rose, and drove his chariot across the sky, and sank behind the distant purple hills a thousand times. There was a gloom, a shadow over Asgard; for the gods were growing old. The life had gone out of their eyes; their smooth round faces had grown thin and peaked; their step was halting, and the feebleness of age was falling upon them. "It is Loke who has done this," thundered Thor one day, when, from old age and weakness, he had been defeated in a battle with the now ever youthful giants. "It is Loke who has done this, and we will bear it no longer. Look at Odin; even he grows weak and bent and trembling. He is like the old men in Midgard. He, Odin, the All-father." Thor's indignation waxed stronger and stronger. He set forth in search of Loke. "I will not even wait for him to come," he thundered, seizing his hammer and setting forth. "I shall find him, the evil-hearted, somewhere making mischief among the innocent people of Midgard," said he. XIV. THE APPLES OF LIFE. Part II. "Henceforth, O evil-hearted, cruel Loke," burst forth the angry Thor, "henceforth Thor guards the walls of Asgard. Midgard, the skies, he shall forsake; no more will he brew storms; never shall the thunder roll nor the lightnings flash; for Thor will watch forever upon the battlements of Asgard the approach of the evil god who has brought such grief upon us. Never shall he enter the gates of the city again. Let him dare approach even to the golden gates, and Thor will smite him with his mighty hammer." Loke quailed before the fury of the great god Thor. To be an outcast from Asgard, even he could not bear. "Spare me, spare me!" whined the cowardly Loke. "Spare me once more, and I will go again to Jotunheim. I will bring back Idun and the three apples of life." Thor stood looking at the cowardly Loke. He longed to strike him with the hammer; to kill him with his thunder bolt; to scorch him with his lightning arrows. But, evil as he was, Loke was immortal; he was the son of Odin. "Go, then, you mischief-making, evil-hearted son of unhappy Odin! Go; and whether success is yours or not, remember Thor guards the walls of Asgard and watches with his thunders for your return. Never, never, as long as Thor wields the mighty hammer, and holds the powers of thunder and lightning, shall Loke enter the golden city without the golden apples of immortal life." Without another word, Loke put on his guise of a great white bird and sped across the sea and sky, again to the land of Jotunheim. Straight down he swooped upon the castle of the giant who, all this time, had kept Idun imprisoned in a strong walled tower of solid rock. The giant was out upon the sea. "And it is well for me," thought Loke, "that he is. No power in Midgard or in Asgard could wrest these precious apples from the giant's grasp." One quick look out over the mountains and down upon the sea, and Loke seized Idun in his talons, changed her at once into a nut, the apples safe within the shell, and swept away towards Asgard. But alas for Loke! The giant had heard the whirr of the great white wings. Leaping to his feet in his boat, he scanned the sky with his sharp giant eye. "It is Loke! It is Loke!" bellowed he, catching sight of the great white bird among the clouds. "It is Loke! It is Loke! No bird of Midgard flies so high nor sweeps the air with such mighty wings." With one great giant pull, he shot his boat upon the shore; with one great giant bound he struck the mountain top. "The apples of life! the apples of life!" he thundered. "Gone! gone! The apples of life are gone!" One second, and putting on the guise of a great grey eagle he shot up into the sky in swift pursuit of Loke. The Sungod hid his chariot behind a cloud that the shadows might protect and cover Loke. Thor sent forth his thunder. The skies blackened; the wind beat back the great grey eagle; the lightnings staggered and blinded him. Still on and on he flew, gaining in spite of all upon the track of Loke. Every eye in Asgard was strained; every giant in Jotunheim stood breathless upon his mountain. The great round faces of the giants grew tense; the wrinkled aged faces of the gods grew pale. It was a terrible race. It was a race for life and health and everlasting youth. "Build fires upon the walls! Heap up the brush! Stand ready with the tapers!" cried Odin, who foresaw the end. The brush is heaped. Each god stands ready, his haggard face growing whiter and thinner with fright and dread and eagerness. Already the rush of Loke's wings are heard. The eagle follows close. Nearer and nearer they come, closer and closer is the race. One moment more!--One second!--The frightened eyes of Loke can be seen, so near he is. Thor sends his blinding fire once more across the eagle's track. It reels, for an instant it falls back. In that one second, with one last mighty stroke, Loke clears the walls and falls, exhausted, breathless, almost dead upon the golden pavement of the city. "The fires! the fires! the fires!" cried Odin. An instant, and there rises from the walls great sheets of blaze. The brush crackles and snaps and sends up great tongues of fire. The eagle, angry, desperate, and blinded by the lightning sweeps on, straight towards them. Like a foolish moth, he bears down upon the city, into the very heart of the blaze. A sudden crackling, a cry of pain, a cloud of black, black smoke, and the great grey eagle falls a helpless mass upon the pavement beside the breathless Loke. The haggard faces flush with hope and joy. The apples are safe. Idun has come back, the apples again are theirs, and life and joy and eternal youth once more are with them. Now the goddess of music bursts forth again in song; the god of poetry pours forth his melody; a feast is spread, and the gods and goddesses once more eat of the wonderful apples of life. The color comes back into their faded cheeks; light again flashes from their eyes. Youth and health and strength are theirs again. Peace reigns once more in Asgard. XV. LOKE'S WOLF. Although the Apples of Life had been brought back, and although Loke appeared for some time very penitent and willing to obey the laws of the kind Odin, the gods had little faith in him. More than that, so much had they suffered, that now they were in constant fear of him. "We never know," plead Freyja and Sif and Idun, all of whom had good reason to fear him, "what mischief he may be planning." And so it came about that Loke was driven forth from Asgard, as indeed he deserved to be. Straight to the home of the giants Loke went--he always had been a giant at heart, the evil creature!--and was much more in harmony with them in their thoughts and acts, than ever he had been with the gods whom he claimed as his people. But now that he was cast out from Asgard, and could no longer share its beauties and its joys, he had but one wish--that was, to be revenged upon the gods, to destroy them, and to ruin their golden city. To do this he raised two dreadful creatures. Terrible monsters! Even the gods shuddered as they looked upon them. "Loke! Loke!" thundered Odin, looking down upon him in wrath that he should dare such vengeance. But Loke stood defiant. There was but one thing to be done, so the gods thought; and that was to take these terrible creatures from Loke's power. "The serpent we will cast into the sea," said Thor. "But the wolf--what shall we do with the wolf? Certainly he cannot be left to wander up and down in Midgard. The sea would not hold him. Loke must not have him in Jotunheim. What shall be done with him?" "Kill him," said some. "No," answered Odin. "To him Loke has given the gift of everlasting life. He will not die as long as we the gods have life. There is but one way left open to us; and that is to bring the wolf into Asgard. Here we can watch him and keep him from much, if not all the evil he would do." And so the wolf--the Fenris-wolf he was called--was brought into the home of the gods. He was a dreadful creature to look upon. His eyes were like balls of fire; and his fangs were white, and sharp, and cruel. Every day he grew more terrible. Fiercer and fiercer he grew, and larger and stronger and more dreadful to look upon. "What is to be done with him?" asked Odin one day, his face white with despair, as he looked upon the wolf, and realized what sorrow by and by he would bring among them. "Kill him!" cried one. "Send him to Jotunheim," cried another. "Chain him," thundered Thor. And indeed to chain him seemed really the only thing that could be done with him. "We will make the chains this night," said Thor. And at once the great forge was set in motion. All night long Thor worked the forge, hammering with his mighty hammer the links that should make a chain to hold the Fenris-wolf. Morning came. The gods were filled with hope as they saw the great heap of iron. "Now we shall be safe. Now we shall be free," they said; "for no creature living can break the irons that the god of Thunder forges." The wolf growled and showed his wicked teeth as Thor approached and threw the chain about him. He knew the gods hated him and feared him. He knew, too, that, with his wondrous strength, even the chains of Thor were not too strong for him to break. So, snarling and showing his fangs and lashing his tail, he allowed himself to be bound. "They are afraid of me," the cruel wolf grinned. "And well they may be; there is a power in me that even they do not yet dream of." The chains were tightly fastened, and the gods waited eagerly for the wolf to test his strength with them. Now, the wolf knew well enough that there were no chains that could hold him. "I will amuse myself," said he to himself, "by tormenting the gods." So he glared at the chains with his fiery eyes, sniffed here and there at them, lifted one paw and then the other, bit at them with his sharp teeth, and clawed at them with his strong claws; setting up now and then a howl that echoed, like the thunders of Thor, from cloud to cloud across the skies. The faces of the gods grew brighter and brighter. They looked at each other and hope rose high in their hearts. "We are saved!" they whispered to each other. "Hear how he howls! He knows he cannot break chains forged in the smithy of the mighty Thor." But Odin did not smile. He knew only too well that the wolf was amusing himself; and that when the gods were least expecting it, he would spring forth and shatter the links of the mighty chain, even as a mortal might shatter a chain of straw. "Conquered at last, you cruel Fenris-wolf!" thundered Thor, lifting his hammer in scorn, to throw at the helpless wolf. "The Fenris-wolf is never conquered," hissed the wolf; and with one bound he leaped across the walls of Asgard, down, down across the skies to Midgard, the links of the chains scattering like sparks of fire as he flew through the air. "See! See!" cried the people of Midgard, as they saw the fiery eyes of Fenris gleam across the sky. "See! A star has fallen! A star has fallen into the sea!" For the people of Midgard cannot understand the wonders of the heavens and the mysteries of the gods. The gods stood, wonder-struck. Their faces were pale with fright. The brow of Thor grew black and stern. Odin looked pityingly upon them all. "Lose not your courage," said he kindly. "The Fenris-wolf shall yet be bound; and there shall yet remain to us ages upon ages of happiness and freedom from his wicked power. Go now to the dwarfs who work their forges in the great mines beneath the mountains of Midgard. They shall make for you a magic chain that even Fenris cannot break." Hardly were the words out of Odin's mouth when Thor set forth upon the wings of his own lightning, to the home of the dwarfs, to do the bidding of Odin the All-wise. XVI. THE FENRIS WOLF. With wonderful speed the chain was forged; and when the Sun-god lifted his head above the hills, to send forth his light again across the fields of Midgard, the first sight that greeted his return was Thor, a great mass of golden coil within his hand, speeding up the rainbow bridge to Asgard. It was a tiny chain--hardly larger than a thread; but in it lay a magic strength. Entering the great golden gate, Thor saw the Fenris wolf, again creeping stealthily up and down the streets. Thor's hand shut tight upon the handle of his hammer. It was hard to believe that a blow from the hammer would not slay the wicked creature. For an instant Thor's face grew black. Then forcing a smile, and showing to the wolf the mass of gold, he said, "Come Fenris; come with me into the hall. There the gods are to meet and test our strength upon this magic coil. Whoever breaks it, and so proves himself the strongest, is to win a prize from the great All-father Odin." The wolf stretched back his cruel lips, and showed his sharp fangs of teeth. He did not speak; but his wicked grin said, "You do not deceive the Fenris-wolf." Together Thor and the Fenris-wolf entered the presence of Odin and the gods and goddesses. "I have," said Thor, "a magic coil. It is very strong. The dwarfs made it for me; and Odin has promised a great prize to the one who shall be strong enough to break its links. Come, let us try." Then the gods--for they all understood what Thor was about to do--sprang forward, seizing the coil, pulling and twisting it in every way and in every direction, coiling it about the pillars of the hall, and hanging by it from the arches; until at last, tired out and breathless, they sank exhausted upon the golden floors. "Fenris," called Thor. "Now is your time to prove to us what you have so often said--that you are stronger than we. Try if you can break this golden thread which, small as it is, has proved too strong for the strength of the gods." The wolf growled. He did not care to risk even his strength in a magic coil. He growled and slunk away. "What! Fenris, are you a coward? After all your boasted strength, why is it that you shrink from a contest in which the gods have willingly taken part? Do you mean to say that, because the gods have been defeated, you fear that you, too, may be defeated?" The wolf halted. He looked back at the gods and growled a long, low growl. The words of Thor had stung his pride. Thor laughed. "O Fenris, Fenris! this is your boasted strength! your boasted courage! To slink away in a contest with the gods--the gods at whose strength you have always sneered and scoffed." "Fenris is a coward!" cried all the gods; and the heavens echoed with their laughter. This was more than the wolf could bear. Back he sprang into the hall. "I hear your sneers," he snarled. "I hear you call me coward. Give me the cord; bind me with it round and round; fasten me to the strongest pillar of this great hall. If the coil is an honest coil, Fenris can break it. There is no chain he cannot break. But if you are blinding me--if you have here a cord woven with magic such as no power can break--how am I to know? I put this test to you. Some one of you shall place your hand between my jaws. As long as that hand is there, you may coil and coil the thread about me. Then, if I find the cord a magic cord, Fenris shall set his teeth upon the hand and crush it." The gods stared at one another. Surely, Thor must not lose his hand. Thor needed his hand with which to wield the magic hammer. Then Tyre, the brave god Tyre, the god of courage and bravery and unselfishness stepped forth. "Here is my hand, O Fenris-wolf. It shall be yours to destroy if you can not loose yourself when bound in the golden coil." Again the Fenris-wolf showed his shining teeth. He seized the hand between his heavy jaws; Thor bound the cord about him. "Now free yourself," he thundered. "Free yourself, and prove to the gods the mighty power of the Fenris-wolf." The wolf, his eyes blazing with wrath, and with fear as well, struggled with the coil. But alas for the wolf! And joy for the gods! The harder he struggled, the fiercer he battled, the tighter drew the cord. With a howl of rage that shook the city and echoed even to the base of the great Mt. Ida, he seized upon the hand of Tyre and tore it from his wrist. With another angry howl he sprang towards Thor; but with a quick turn Thor seized one end of the coil, fastened it to a great rock, and before the wolf could set his fangs he hurled him, rock and all, over the walls of the city, down down into the mighty sea. "And there, chained to his rocky island, he shall abide forever," cried the gods; "and now peace once more shall rest upon our city." But Odin sighed, and to himself he said, "O happy children, there shall yet come a day when darkness shall fall upon us; the Fenris-wolf shall again be loosed; and even the gods shall be no more." XVII. DEFEAT OF HRUNGNER. Greatest among the giants of Jotunheim, was Hrungner. Even the gods stood in fear of him; for when Thor's deep thunder rolled out across the skies, and the winds rose and the clouds grew black, it was Hrungner who, bold and defiant, shouted back with roars of scornful laughter--roars that rivalled in their thunder those of the great and mighty Thor. "This giant," said the gods, standing in council together,--"this giant must be overcome. Too long have we suffered him to defy our power; too long have we borne his insolence; too long have his threats passed unnoticed by Odin the All-Father and by Thor the god of Thunder." "I will go forth," said Odin, "upon my winged horse, my fleet-footed Sleipner, to meet this giant who dares defy the gods of Asgard." Accordingly across the skies, over the sea to Jotunheim, rode Odin. "It is a fine steed you ride, good stranger," bellowed Hrungner as Odin drew near; "almost as fine a steed as my own Goldfax, who can fly through the air and swim through the seas with the same ease that another steed might travel upon the plains of Midgard." "But his speed cannot equal that of Sleipner," answered Odin quietly, his deep eyes burning with the light no giant could quite comprehend, and beneath which even Hrungner quailed at heart. "Sleipner! Odin!" thundered Hrungner. "Are you Odin? And is this your Sleipner--the winged steed of which the gods of Asgard boast? Away with him! And I upon my Goldfax will prove to you that in Jotunheim lives one giant who dares challenge even Odin and his mighty war-horse to contest. Away! Away Odin! Away Sleipner! Away Hrungner! Away Goldfax!" And with a shout that echoed even to the halls of Asgard, the great giant mounted his steed and soon brought him, neck to neck with Odin and his immortal Sleipner. On, on, across the skies they flew. Before their mighty force, the clouds scattered hither and thither, striking against each other with a crashing sound that to the earth-people was like the voice of Thor. From the eyes of the steeds the lightnings flashed; and from their reeking sides the foam fell in showers upon the earth below. The people, terror-stricken, ran to their caves and prayed the gods to protect them from the fury of the blast. "It is like no storm we ever knew," they whispered, one to the other. "The thunder! the lightnings! the scurrying clouds! and with it all, the roaring winds and the falling of great white flakes, now like hail, now like snow! Has Odin forgotten his children? Have the Frost giants fallen upon Asgard?" But now the storm was over. Odin and Hrungner both had reached the walls of Asgard. Through the great rolling gateway both had burst together; for the steed of the bold Hrungner had indeed proved himself equal to the snow-white Sleipner, whose magic powers no one but Odin fully knew. Hrungner, elated with his success, and never once dreaming that, had Odin so willed it, he, with his brave steed Goldfax, might have been left far behind in the race, strode into the halls of Asgard and called loudly for food and drink and rest. All these were granted him, and the giant threw himself down upon a golden couch and stared insolently upon the gods. All were there save Thor. "And where," bellowed Hrungner, "is the great god Thor, the mighty thunderer who dares defy the Frost giants; and whose strength is boasted greater than that of Hrungner, the chief of the mighty Frost giants? "Bring him into my presence," roared the giant. "Let me prove to you that one giant at least dares defy even the greatest and most warlike of you all." Away upon the sea, Thor heard this boast. "Who challenges me and defies my power?" he thundered; and with the swiftness of the wind, hastening upward toward the shining city, he burst in upon the giant stretched out upon the golden couch. "I challenge you!" bellowed the giant, springing from his couch and facing the god of thunder. Thor raised his hammer. The lightnings flashed from his eye. "Halt!" roared the giant. "Little credit will it be to the god of Thunder to fall in battle upon a Frost giant unarmed and unprotected. You are a coward! Fight me as becomes a great god on equal grounds and under fair conditions. Come to me in the land of Jotunheim, and there will I challenge you to battle. Then will your victory, if you win, lend lustre to your greatness; and the fear of you throughout the land of the Frost giants be greater than ever before." "As you say," answered Thor with a sneer. "Go now, and make ready for the holmgang, [1] in which the insolent, boastful Hrungner shall learn the power of the gods whom, in his ignorance, he dares defy." Then Hrungner departed from the city of Asgard, and assembled the giants together to prepare for the coming battle. "Let us make a giant of clay," and at once every giant in Jotunheim fell to work. Whole mountains were leveled to the earth, and the great masses of stone and earth heaped high; until, on the third day, there stood a giant nine miles high and three miles broad, ready to defy the power of the Thunder-god when he should come. But alas for the heart of this warrior of clay! None could be found, either in Midgard or in Jotunheim, of size proportionate to the body of the mighty creation; and so, in despair, the heart of a sheep was chosen, and around it the clay warrior was built. At the first sound of rolling thunder--by which the coming of Thor was announced afar off--alas! this heart, fluttering and trembling, so shook the mighty form that its spear fell from its hand, its knees shook, and Hrungner was left to fight his battle alone with the angry son of Odin. Onward, nearer and nearer, came Thor the Terrible. The lightnings flashed and the earth rumbled. Seizing a great mountain of flint in his hands, Hrungner waited. His eyes burned and his face was set. Suddenly, forth from the ground beneath his feet, the god of Thunder burst. Hrungner sprang forward. With a mighty force he hurled the mountain of flint. Thor, with a roar, flung his mighty hammer. The two crashed together in midair. The flint broke, and one half of it was driven into the heavy skull of Thor. The hammer, cleaving the flint, sped onward, and Hrungner fell dead beneath its never-failing blow; but in falling his great body lay across the neck of Thor, who, stunned by the blow from the flint, had fallen, his hammer still clenched firmly in his powerful hand. For a moment, there was a hush. The very sun stood still. Not a sound was heard through Jotunheim. The thunder of battle had died away; all the earth was still. Then came Magne, a son of Thor. "Why this sudden quiet?" he called. "Why has my father's voice been stilled? Certainly the great god Thor has not fallen in battle!" "In the name of Odin," he thundered, as he saw the Frost giant's body lying across his father's massive frame,--"in the name of Odin and of Thor, what does this mean?" And, seizing the giant by a foot, he hurled him out over the seas. For miles and miles the giant's body cut the air, and then, falling, sank and was buried beneath the waves. Thor staggered to his feet again, and with a roar that made the leaves of Ygdrasil tremble and shook even the halls of Valhalla, set forth across the seas, never once looking back towards the land of Jotunheim, whose people for the time, at least, were again subdued by the power of Thor, the god of Thunder,--by Thor, the son of Odin the All-wise. XVIII. THOR AND SKRYMER. There was peace in all the lands; stilled were the Frost giants, and in Midgard all was happiness. "Come with me, that I may see that you do no mischief," said Thor to Loke, as he sprang into his golden chariot, drawn by his snow-white goats. All day the chariot wheeled on and on across the skies. Night fell, and the gods, entering a peasant's cottage, asked for shelter. "Our supper we have with us," Thor said. And taking the goats from the chariot, he killed them and placed them before the fire. Never had the peasants taken part in such a feast. "It is a feast for the gods," they said; "but pray, how will you finish your journey without your goats?" "We will attend to that," said Thor. "Eat what you will, and all you can. I only ask that, when the feast is finished, you promise to place all the bones together there before the door upon the goat skins. See to it that no bone is forgotten; and that not one--even the smallest--be lost or broken." The peasants promised; the meat was eaten, and in due time the household went to bed and to sleep. Morning came; and with the first flush of light Thor arose, and, with his magic hammer, sat down beside the heap of bones, that lay upon the goat skins before the door. "Kling! Kling! Kling!" sounded the hammer, striking in turn each little bone; then the two goats leaped forth, as white and plump and round as ever, and as ready to spin across the waters with the golden chariot of their master. But alas, one goat was lame. He held up one tiny foot and moaned. "Some one of you," roared Thor, "has broken a bone. Did I not command that you be careful, and see that every bone should be placed, uninjured, upon the goat skins?" The peasants shook with fear. They knew now who this strange guest might be. "It is Thor!" they whispered to each other. "And that is the mighty hammer whose aim never fails, and whose force is death to all upon whom it falls!" "O thou great god Thor," cried the peasants, "spare us! Indeed had we known, not one bone would we have taken in our unhappy fingers; and all night long would we have watched beside the goat skins that no harm should come to them. Spare us, O spare us, great Thor! Take all we have--our house, our cattle, our children, everything--only spare our lives to us!" Thor seized his hammer in his hand. His great knuckles grew white, so strong was his giant hold upon the handle. The peasants sank upon their knees. Their faces dropped and their eyes closed. Shaking with terror, they awaited the falling of the hammer. "Up, up, ye peasants," thundered Thor. "This offense I forgive. Your lives too, shall be spared you; but I will carry away with me these children of yours,--Thjalfe and Roskva; and they shall serve me in my journeys across the lands and over the seas." "The goats I leave with you; and I charge you, by your lives see that no harm comes to them in any way. Come Thjalfe, come Roskva, place yourselves before the chariot, and bear me quickly across the seas." All day long the chariot wheeled on and on, the children never tiring, until, at nightfall, they found themselves upon the shores of the country of the Frost giants. Plunging into a deep forest, they hurried through and came out into a great plain beyond. Here they found a house, the very doors of which were as high as the mountains and as broad as the broadest river. "We will rest here," said Thor, and, spreading the great skins which they found near the doorway, they made for themselves beds, and soon were fast asleep. At midnight they were awakened by a terrible roar. The whole house shook with its vibrations. Thor, seizing his hammer in his strong right hand, strode to the door. The whole earth trembled, but in the darkness even Thor could not see beyond the doorway. Hour after hour he stood there, listening. Slowly, at last, the dawn began to come; the sun rose, and there, just at the edge of the forest, Thor saw the outstretched body of a giant, whose head was in itself a small mountain, and whose feet stretched away into the valley below. "And it is you, then, that have rocked the very earth with your giant snores, and have taken from me my night of rest," thought Thor, when he saw the giant form stretched out before him. With one angry stride Thor reached the side of the sleeping giant. Raising his hammer a full mile into the air, he smote the giant full upon the skull, with a crash that sounded like the fall of a mighty oak. "What is that?" asked the giant, opening his sleepy eyes. "Indeed, Thor, are you here? Something awoke me. I think an acorn must have dropped upon my head," said the giant, gathering himself to rise. "Go to sleep again," growled Thor; "it isn't morning yet. I am going to sleep myself." A few minutes and the snores of the giant rang through the air again. "Now we will see," thought Thor. Again he crept to the giant's side. Lifting his hammer, this time two miles in the air, he brought it down upon the giant's skull with a crash that sounded like the breaking of the ice and the roaring of the torrent in a mighty river. "What is that?" muttered the giant, only half awake. "A leaf must have fallen upon my forehead. I will take myself out into the plain where I can sleep in peace." "Go to sleep," answered Thor; "it is nearly morning, and will be time to wake up for the day before you reach the plain." Again the giant fell asleep; and again the snoring rang out upon the air. "He shall not escape me this time," whispered Thor, creeping again to the giant's side. Raising his hammer, this time three miles in the air, he crashed it down upon the forehead of the giant with such force and fury that the very heavens reverberated; and the earth people, springing frightened from their deep sleep, called to each other, "The dwarfs are at their forges! Did you not feel the earth shake and the mountains tremble?" "Well, well," droned the sleepy giant; "the moss from the trees falls upon my face and wakes me. It is nearly sunrise, and I may as well arise and go on to Utgard. And you, Thor,--I am told you, too, are journeying towards the land of Utgard. But I must hurry on. I will meet you there; but let me give you warning that we are a race of giants of no mean size. And great though you are, it would be as well for you that you boast not of your power among us. Even your mighty hammer might fail to do its work among giants of such strength and stature as those of Skrymer's race." There was a sneer on Skrymer's face as he said this; but before Thor could raise his hammer to punish him for his insolence, he had crossed the great plain, and was already miles away. Thor sat down beside the forest. He was mortified, and vexed, and puzzled. What did it mean? Had his hammer lost its magic power? Was the giant Skrymer immortal? He could not tell. There was a heavy cloud upon his face as he set forth again upon his journey. The little servants shook with fear; even Loke kept silent, and said not one word the live-long day. XIX. THOR AND THE UTGARD-KING. Travelling on and on, through many days and many nights, Thor and his companions came to a great castle. Its pinnacles reached far up among the clouds, and its great gateways were broad even like the horizon itself. In between the bars crept Thor and Loke and the children Thjalfe and Roskva. "Let us enter the castle," said Thor grimly. "It must be the palace of the king--the Utgard-Loke--whose threats have defied even the All-wisdom and the All-power of the mighty Odin." At these words the walls of the castle trembled. The pillars of frost and the great arches of ice glittered and glistened. Thjalfe and Roskva grew white with fear. "We hear your voice," thundered Thor; "but we have no fear of you even though you shake the castle walls until they fall. And behold, we dare come into your very presence, thou terrible king of Utgard!" The great king showed his glittering teeth. His brow grew black with rage. "This is Thor, the god of Thunder," he sneered: "and so small are you that you can creep through the bars of our gateway, pass unnoticed by our sentinels, even into the very presence of the king!" Then Utgard-Loke--for this was the king's name--threw back his head and laughed until the whole earth shook; trees were uprooted, and avalanches of ice and snow, pouring down into valleys, buried hundreds of the little people of Midgard. Thor clenched his hammer. He dared not thunder; even his lightnings were as nothing in this great palace hall and before the terrible voice of the Utgard-king. "But perhaps you are greater than you look," continued the king, roaring again at his own wit. "Tell me what great feats you can accomplish; for no one is allowed entrance to this castle who cannot perform great deeds." "I can perform great deeds--many of them," boasted Loke, nowise abashed, even in the presence of the terrible king. "I can eat faster than any creature in Midgard, in Utgard, or even in Asgard, the home of the gods." Again the king roared; and, placing before him a great wooden trough heaped high with food, he commanded his servant Loge to challenge Loke to the contest. But alas for Loke, although the food disappeared before him like fields of grain beneath the scythe of steel, yet before the task was half begun, Loge had swallowed food, and trough, and all! The king roared louder still; and Loke, never before beaten by giant power, shrank away, angry and threatening. "But I," said Thjalfe, "can run. I can outrun any creature that lives on land or sea." Then Thjalfe was placed beside a tiny little pigmy--Huge he was called; but hardly had they run a pace before Huge had shot so far ahead that Thjalfe, crestfallen, went and hid himself behind the great ice pillar that stood outside the castle gate. And now Thor rose to his feet and drew himself up to his greatest height; but even that seemed as nothing compared with the enormous stature of the Utgard-king. He clenched the hammer tightly and thundered as never he had thundered before. The tiny fringe of icicles trembled. Then Utgard-Loke laughed; and with his thunder the whole castle rocked and reeled. "And will Thor contest with the power of Utgard?" asked the king. "I will," roared Thor, and there was a fire in his eye that even Utgard shrank before. But Utgard only roared in turn and brought to Thor a great horn, filled to its brim with sparkling water. "Drink," said he; "and if one half the power is yours that Odin claims, you will empty the horn at a single draught." Thor seized the horn. One long, deep draught, such as no mortal, no giant, nor even another god could have drawn--and the horn was hardly one drop less full. The king roared till the icicles and the fringes of frost, swaying and rocking beneath the thunder, fell with a crash upon the palace floor. "Can the great god Thor boast no greater power than that? Once more, thou greatest of all the sons of Odin--once more lift the horn in thy mighty hands and show us the greatness of the gods of Asgard." Thor, stung by the sneer of the Utgard-king, raised the horn again to his lips; and calling upon the name of Odin and all the gods of the shining city, drank again. Higher and higher he raised the horn, deeper and deeper drew he the draught. But alas, again, when the horn was lowered, the waters were no lower than before. "You seem not so great as we the frost giants have believed," said the king with a cold sneer. Thor's anger rose. His blood boiled with rage and fury. With a burst of thunder and a flash of lightning that shattered the pillars of the great hall, he seized the horn again. Three long hours passed. Utgard-Loke trembled with fear and dread; for never for one second had the angry god taken the horn from his lips. "The ruin of the Utgard kingdom is come," he groaned. "There is no hope for victory over such a god. The horn--even the magic horn--will fail before the might of this fierce and awful Thor, the god of Thunder." Then Thor lifted the horn from his lips. Defiance flashed from his eye. The king of the Frost giants trembled. Both looked into the horn. Alas for Thor! Even now hardly could it be counted one quarter emptied. Darkness gathered over the strong god's face. Courage sprang into the eyes of the king. "Let not your valor fail you," said the king, taking the horn from the hand of Thor. "You are great--you have proved it, in that you have, even in so small a degree as this, emptied the horn from which none but a god could have quaffed one drop. It is only that your greatness is less than you have boasted, and less than we have believed it to be." "I will not stand defeated," thundered Thor. "Bring before me another challenge. I will not go forth until the giants of Utgard have indeed known and felt the power of Thor, the god whose lightnings rend the skies, and whose thunders rock the very mountains of the earth." "Once more, then, shall you contend for power," said the Utgard-king. "And this time with Elle, the toothless giant of endless years, before whose power bend all the strongest sons of Midgard, and before whom, in some far off day, even the gods of Asgard shall bow as powerless as the children of Midgard." Thor sprang upon the giant Elle. Like a demon of the under world he fought, and for a time even this All-conquering giant swayed before the wild madness of his bursts of thunder, and his crashing, hissing bolts of fire. But alas for Thor! Even his godlike strength was doomed to fail him. He trembled; his sight vanished; a strange chill settled over him, and he sank, conquered, before the power of the giant Elle. And now the night had fallen upon the land. The light had faded from the mountain tops; and the chill of night was in the frosty air. Exhausted, the great god wrapped himself about and sank into heavy sleep. And his dreams were of great battles, of terrible foes, and of the last great day which, sometime in the ages to come, should fall upon the city of the gods, and in which even the power of Odin should fail, and the light go out from all the earth. All night long these dreams haunted the great heart of Thor; and in the morning the people in Midgard said, "It was a strange night. Through all the hours of darkness, the thunders rolled in the distance, and the pale lightnings flashed among the mountain peaks beyond the seas." In the morning, even with the first rays of light, Thor, with Loke and Thjalfe and Roskva, set forth upon their journey homeward. There was a terrible blackness upon the face of Thor, and the thunders rumbled deeply. Never before had Thor known the bitterness of defeat, and he returned to Asgard and to Odin sick at heart. "Lose not thy courage, Thor," said the All-wise. "Know that thou art not even now defeated in any test of true strength. Utgard-Loke has triumphed to be sure; but even he trembles now, and has closed the doors of his castle, and has set thousands upon thousands of sentinels to watch against thy return. "The horn from which thou didst drink reached far down into the depths of the sea; and the people of Midgard even now throng the shores and wonder what power in heaven or in earth can so have shrunken the great waters of the sea. "Loge, with whom Loke contended, was none less than Wild Fire; and Huge was Thought itself. Even the gods, even Odin himself, with these would but contend in vain. And Elle--it is indeed as Utgard-Loke said--no power in heaven itself can equal hers. She is the all-powerful, the never-failing, the ever-present Old Age. All the people of the earth, all the gods of Asgard--aye, even the Earth and Asgard must one day fall before her mighty will. That you contended even as you did, has driven terror deep into the hearts of the cruel Frost giants; nor do they doubt that you are the terrible god of Thunder, the greatest of all the sons of Odin." XX. THOR AND THE MIDGARD SERPENT. With these words of Odin, Thor's courage rose. "Bring me my hammer," he called to Sif, "and again will I go forth into the realms of the Frost giants." The great Odin smiled. "Fear not, my son. Remember there can be no defeat to Thor, the son of Odin, whose mighty hand holds firm the terrible hammer forged by the dwarfs of the under world." Then Thor sprang into his chariot. "Away, away," he thundered, "to the home of Hymer--the hateful, boastful Hymer! Away to the land of the Frost giants! Once, and for all, Thor will prove to them the power and the terror of the gods of Asgard." The wheels of the chariot rumbled and rolled. From their spokes the lightnings flashed. With the speed of Thought itself, it hissed and whistled through the air. The clouds, scattering, raised a mighty wind. In Midgard the leaves ran like fire before the gale; the trees rocked; and ever and anon the moaning wind rose and fell like the voice of a mighty tempest. "It is the Valkyries!" the people of Midgard said. "Always does the wind rise; always do the clouds hurry across the skies when the Valkyries set forth to battle. Somewhere there is war in our fair earth; somewhere heroes are falling on the bloody battlefield." For, in all this time, there had come to be many people in Midgard. The children of Ask and Embla had become men and women, had grown old, and their children, too, had become men and women. And there were wars in the land. Warriors in the east fought those in the west; those in the north fought those in the south. But the warriors were brave men; and over every battle Odin watched, grinding the spears, now shielding and protecting, now forcing the warriors into the very hottest of the battle. And when the battle was over, and all was quiet, when the great sun had sunk behind the hills of Jotunheim, and the soft moon shone down upon the battlefield, then Odin would call to the Valkyries, and bid them go down into Midgard and bring with them to Valhalla all who had fallen bravely fighting. For this was the hero's reward. With this hope he entered battle; with this hope he fought; with this hope he turned his dying eyes towards Mt. Ida and thanked the All-father that now he, too, might enter into the joys of Asgard and know the glory of immortal life in the golden halls of Valhalla. And now the winds had died away; the clouds were at rest; there was peace over Midgard. For the chariot had reached the home of the Frost giants, and Thor had entered the great rock-bound castle of the giant Hymer. "Let us go out upon the sea to fish," said Thor to the dread giant, with whom he longed to measure power. Seizing the oars, Thor himself rowed the great boat out into the sea. "Give me the oars," bellowed Hymer; "you have already rowed a long way and must be wearied." "I wearied!" thundered Thor. "Indeed I have not rowed one half the distance. I shall row even into the realm of the Midgard Serpent, whose length lies coiled round about Midgard, and whose home is deep down beneath the raging waters. There only shall we find fish worthy of the bait of a god." Hymer trembled. He feared the Midgard Serpent, whose great coils so lashed the waters of the ocean that they rose, white with foam, even to the very mountain tops. "The fishing just here has never failed. There is no need to row farther into the ocean," said Hymer, hoping to dissuade the god from rowing farther from the shores of Jotunheim. "But I must fish in mid-ocean, and in the deepest of the waters," was Thor's reply. For hours and hours they rowed. The mountain tops grew dimmer and dimmer in the blue distance; no land could be seen; the waters sparkled and shone on every side as far as the eye could reach. "We will make this our fishing place," said Thor, at last, throwing down his oars and preparing the great cable that should serve him for a line. This he gave into the hands of the trembling giant, and prepared for himself another. The hours passed, but no fish had been drawn into the boat. "Had you listened to me," thundered Hymer, "our boat might long before this have been filled with the fish I have never failed to catch in waters nearer the shores of the land of the Frost giants." "Do you think a god would be content with less than the greatest fish in all the sea?" thundered Thor. "Do you not know I shall bring to this boat's edge the terrible Midgard Serpent itself?" And even as he spoke he gathered in his line, and dashed upon the boat floor a whale of such enormous size that even the giant looked with amazement upon so terrible a display of the fisherman's strength and power. Surely this must be Thor himself! "The whale is yours," muttered Thor, unfastening his line and throwing it overboard again. "I have no care for fish as small as this." Suddenly there was a rush of waters. It was as if a terrible tempest had burst upon the sea. The waters seethed and foamed. The great waves rose mountain high. The boat rocked and reeled, and the green waters, pouring over its sides, filled it so that the great whale floated out upon the sea. "It is the Midgard Serpent!" roared Thor; and his mighty voice, rising even above the rush of the great sea, mingled with the thunder of the breaking waves and echoed out to the shores of the farthest lands. Thor sprang from the boat and planted himself firmly upon the great rocks beneath the sea. The giant, dumb with terror, clung to the sides of the rocking boat. On, on came the serpent, nearer and nearer, the roaring waves and the heaping foam bursting closer and closer upon the mountain-like boat that tossed now like seaweed upon the angry waters. One burst like thunder, and the terrible serpent's head rose above the foam and glistened in the light. Thor sprang forward; and, with his mighty arm, threw the cable about the slimy neck of the Midgard Serpent and dragged him to the boat's edge. The giant sprang to his feet. "Give me my hammer!" thundered the god. "I will not!" thundered the giant; and with one quick bound he sprang forward, raised his shining sword, and with a sweep miles high, cut the great cable which held the writhing serpent. Another roar, and the great serpent arched his back even to the blue dome of the sky above. Then, with a hiss that sounded through Midgard and even up to the shining city of the fair Mt. Ida, he shot down beneath the waters, and over him closed the angry waves. The foam dashed mountains high; the caves howled and boomed; the skies echoed crash on crash; and the whole earth trembled with the upheaval of the troubled waters. A rushing back, a heaping up, a breaking of great waves--and never again, by man or giant or god, was the loathsome serpent seen above the waters, until on that last sad, fateful day when the light had gone out from the sun, and the dread chill of Ragnarok had fallen even upon Valhalla and the beautiful shining city of Asgard. VALKYRIES' SONG. The Sea-king looked o'er the brooding wave; He turned to the dusky shore, And there seemed, through the arch of a tide-worn cave A gleam, as of snow, to pour; And forth, in watery light, Moved phantoms, dimly white, Which the garb of woman bore. Slowly they moved to the billow side; And the forms, as they grew more clear, Seemed each on a tall, pale steed to ride, And a shadowy crest to rear, And to beckon with faint hand, From the dark and rocky strand, And to point a gleaming spear. Then a stillness on his spirit fell, Before th' unearthly train, For he knew Valhalla's daughters well, The Choosers of the slain! And a sudden rising breeze Bore, across the moaning seas, To his ear their thrilling strain. "Regner! tell thy fair-haired bride She must slumber at thy side! Tell the brother of thy breast, Even for him thy grave hath rest! Tell the raven steed which bore thee, When the wild wolf fled before thee, He too with his lord must fall,-- There is room in Odin's Hall!" There was arming heard on land and wave, When afar the sunlight spread, And the phantom forms of the tide-worn cave With the mists of morning fled; But at eve, the kingly hand Of the battle-axe and brand, Lay cold on a pile of dead!--Hemans. XXI. THE DYING BALDUR. Ages upon ages had rolled away. And now the day of sorrow, which always Odin had known must come, drew near. Already the god of song had gone with his beautiful wife Idun down into the dark valley of death; and there was a new strange rustle among the leaves of Ygdrasil, like the rustling of leaves that were dead. Odin's face grew sad; and, try as he would, he could not join with the happy gods about him in their joys and festal games. "Odin," said Frigg one day, "tell me what grieves thee; what weighs thee down and puts such sadness into thine eyes and heart." "Baldur himself shall tell you all," answered Odin sadly. Then Baldur seated himself in the midst of the gods and said: "Always, since Odin drank at the Well of Wisdom, and learned the secrets of the past and of the future, has he known that a time would come when the light must go out from Baldur's eyes; and he, although a god, must go down into the dark valley. Now that time draws near. Already have Brage and Idun gone from us; and with them have gone song and youth. Soon will Baldur go, and with him must go the light and warmth he has always been so glad to bring to Asgard and to Midgard both." "O Baldur! Baldur! Baldur! My Child! my child! my child!" cried Frigg. "This cannot be! this shall not be! I will go down from Asgard. I will go up and down the earth, and every rock and tree and plant shall pledge themselves to do no harm to thee." "Dear mother Frigg," sighed Baldur, "you cannot change what is foretold. From the beginning of time this was decreed, that one day the light should go out from heaven and the twilight of the gods should fall." There was a long silence in the hall of Asgard. No god had courage to speak. Their hearts were heavy, and they had no wish to speak. The sun sank behind the western hills. Its rich sunset glow spread over the golden city and over the beautiful earth below. Then darkness followed slowly, slowly creeping, creeping on, up the mountain side, across the summit, until even the shining city stood dark and shadowy beneath the gathering twilight. "Like this, some day, the twilight will fall upon our city," said Odin; "and it will never, never rise again." The mother heart of Frigg would not accept even Odin's word. And when the sun's first rays shot up above the far-off hills, Frigg stole forth from Asgard down the rainbow bridge to Midgard. To every lake, and river, and sea, she hurried, and said: "Promise me, O waters, that Baldur's light shall never go out because of you." "We promise," the waters answered. And Frigg hurried on to the metals. "Promise me, O metals, that Baldur's light shall never go out because of you." "We promise," answered the metals. And Frigg hurried on to the minerals. "Promise me, O minerals," she said, "that Baldur's light shall never go out because of you." "We promise," answered the minerals. And Frigg hurried on to the fire, the earth, the stones, the trees, the shrubs, the grasses, the birds, the beasts, the reptiles; and even to the abode of pale disease she went. Of each she asked the same earnest, anxious question; and from each she received the same kind, honest answer. As the sun sank behind the high peaks of the Frost giants' homes, Frigg, radiant and happy, her eyes bright and her heart alive with hope, sped up the rainbow bridge. Triumphant, she hurried into the great hall to Odin and Baldur. "Be happy again, O Odin! Be happy again, O Baldur! There is no danger, no sorrow to come to us from anything in the earth or under the earth. For every tree has promised me; and every rock and every metal; every animal and every bird. Even the waters and the fire have promised that never harm through them shall come to Baldur." But, alas, for poor Frigg. One little weed, a wee little weed, hidden beneath a rock, she had overlooked. Loke, who had followed closely upon her in all her wanderings through the day, had not failed to notice this oversight of Frigg's. His wicked face shone with glee. His eyes gleamed; and as the radiant Frigg sped up the rainbow bridge, he hurried away to his home among the Frost giants to tell them of the little weed which, by and by, should work such harm to Baldur, in shutting out his life and light from Asgard and the earth. The ages rolled on. Every one in Asgard, save Odin, had long ago thrown off the shadow of fear. "No harm can come to Baldur," they would say; and all save Odin believed it. But a day came when Odin, looking down into the home of the dead, saw there the spirits moving about, hastening hither and thither. "Something is happening there in the pale valley," said Odin. "They are preparing for the coming of another shade. And it must be some great one who is to come. See how great the preparation is they make." "We prepare for the coming of Baldur," answered the shades as Odin came upon them, busy in their work. "We prepare a throne for Baldur. We prepare a throne for Baldur." "For Baldur?" asked Odin, his heart sinking. "For Baldur!" chanted the shades. "For Baldur! Baldur cometh! Baldur cometh!" And Odin, his godlike heart faint and sick at the thought, turned away and went slowly up the rainbow bridge. There, in the great garden of the gods, he found Thor and Baldur and their brother Hodor playing at tests of strength. Behind Hodor, invisible, stood Loke. In his hand he held a spear. "Shame upon you, Hodor," whispered Loke, "that you, the strong and mighty Hodor, cannot overcome Baldur in a test of strength. Baldur may be beautiful and sunny, and he is a great joy to the world; that we know. But what is he compared with Hodor for strength?" "But the spears will not touch him. See how they glance away. Indeed it is true: Light cannot be pierced." answered Hodor, good-naturedly. "Take this spear," said Loke, quietly. "It is less clumsy than those you throw." Hodor took it, never thinking of any harm. Alas for Baldur and Asgard and all the happy smiling Earth! It was a spear tipped with the mistletoe--the one plant that Frigg had failed to find. The one plant that had not promised to do no harm to Baldur. Quickly the spear flew through the air. One second, and Baldur the Summer Spirit, Baldur the Light of the Earth fell--dead. "O, Asgard! Baldur is dead!" groaned Odin. "O Asgard, Asgard! Baldur is dead!" Hodor, Thor, the gods, one and all, stood pale and white. A terrible fear settled over their faces. They shook with terror. And even as they stood there, speechless in their grief, a twilight dimness began to fall lightly, lightly over all. The shining pavements grew less bright; the blue of the great arch overhead deepened; and in the valleys of Midgard there were long black shadows. Baldur was dead. The light had failed. The golden age was at an end. Now, even the gods must die. XXII. THE PUNISHMENT OF LOKE. "It is Loke that has done this!" thundered Thor, seizing the great hammer in his clenched fists. "Nor will the gods of Asgard forgive this crime. No promise of his, no begging, no pleading shall save him from the punishment that belongs to him. "O Baldur, Baldur! That I had slain the evil Loke ages upon ages ago--when he stole the hair from the glorious Sif; when he stole the necklace from the beautiful Freyja; when he carried Idun and the Apples of Life away into the home of the Frost giants; when he stung the dwarf and broke short the handle of my mighty hammer. Had I slain him then, this sorrow need not have come to us. O Baldur, Baldur!" And the whole earth shook with the grief of Thor. The skies grew black. The wind shrieked. The lightnings flashed across the sky. His tears fell in torrents down the mountain sides; trees were swept away, and the swollen rivers rushed and roared along their course. Never, even in the memory of the gaunt old giant at the Well of Wisdom, had such a storm of wind and rain and thunder and lightning been known. The earth-people fled to the mountain caves in terror. "It is the wrath of Thor!" cried Loke, gasping with dread. "Let me hide myself till it is over." And changing himself into a fish, he dived deep into the great seething mass of angry waters. But Thor and Odin were close upon him. The fiery eye of Thor had caught the sparkle of its shiny coat as the great fish shot down from the mountain side into the sea. Then, too, of what use was it to hide from the great, all-seeing eye of Odin? Did he not see and hear all sights and sounds? And, more than that, did he not know all things even from the beginning? "We will take a great net, and we will drag the sea," said Odin quietly. Loke heard these words and trembled. He hid himself beneath the sea-weed; but so muddy were the waters that he was driven out to breathe. The great net was spread. Held by the hands of Odin and of Thor, there was no escape for Loke. Sullenly he allowed the net to close over him. There was no other way; for it stretched from shore to shore and from above the waters even to the ocean bed. And so, at last, because it was to be, the fish held; and Loke was in the power of the angry Thor. "Come back," commanded Odin, "to your own shape and size." Loke obeyed; and in his own form was borne to Asgard. The angry gods fell, one and all, upon him. Not one showed pity for him. They hated him. And well they might; for had he not slain Baldur, and so loosed the power of the Frost giants upon their shining city. "Let him be bound! Let him be bound!" they cried. "Let him be bound even as the Fenris-wolf is bound!" "Let him be bound with iron fetters!" "Let him be nailed to the great rocks in the sea!" "Let a poisonous serpent hang over him; and let the serpent drop, moment by moment, through all the time to come, his burning poison upon him! Let him lie there, chained and suffering till the last great day!" "All this shall be," thundered Thor. And thus it was that the cruel, evil-hearted, peace-destroyer Loke, suffered ages upon ages of punishment for his malice and his crime. XXIII. THE DARKNESS THAT FELL ON ASGARD. The gods had avenged themselves upon the cruel Peace-destroyer, and he lay suffering the tortures they had put upon him. But even this could not bring back the sunny god, the happy, cheerful, life-giving Baldur. Brage had gone, and there was no sound of music in Asgard; Idun had gone, and signs of age were again creeping over the faces of the gods; now Baldur was gone, and with him the long light and warm softness of the summer time. "He may come back," Frigg would say; and every morning she strained her eyes to see if he had risen from behind the far-off hills with the soft light she had learned to know so well. "Baldur is late," she would say, as the days rolled on. But all this time, from the cold north land, the Frost giants, triumphant, were drawing near. Their chill breath was in the air. The days grew short; the nights grew long. The rivers were locked in ice. Great drifts of snow were everywhere. The sky was gray; and there were no stars. The sun shone pale and white through the dull clouds and the blinding drifts of snow. It grew bitter, bitter cold. "The Fimbul-winter!" whispered the earth-people. "Has the Fimbul-winter come?" And Odin answered, "Yes; it is true. The Fimbul-winter, foretold by the Norns, even from the beginning of time, has come. Soon the great wolf will spring forth from the under world, and he will seize upon the sun and devour it. Then dense darkness will fall upon us; and Ragnarok--the end of all things--will be upon us." And it came to pass as Odin said. One day there was heard a mighty rumbling. This time it was not the thunder from the mighty hammer of great Thor. His hands were frozen; nor had he heart to try to wield his hammer. The thunder and the rumble came this time from within the earth. The great earth trembled and shook. Great gaping mouths opened and swallowed up the children; the mountains crumbled and fell; the great serpent lashed the sea; the great rocks rocked and swayed and tore themselves apart. Loke and the Fenris-wolf, freed from their fetters, sprang forth, burning with hate and wild for vengeance. The Frost giants already were upon the rainbow bridge. A terrible battle followed. The gods fell, one by one: Thor by the deadly flood of poison from the Midgard serpent; Tyre in the great jaws of the Fenris-wolf, who, ages before, had torn from him his strong right hand. And now the battle was over. The gods lay dead--even Odin. The shining city of Asgard was a blackened, smoking ruin; the rainbow bridge was gone. The giants sent forth their cold winds, howling with cruel glee. Loke's evil heart was glad; the great serpent lashed the waters mountain high; and the earth-people perished in the flood. The Fenris-wolf stretched its great jaw from heaven to earth and shook the skies. There was a strange hush! A great ball of fire had fallen upon the battle field. There was a sudden rush of air! A great wave of heat spread out across all space! A burst of thunder! A crackling as of fire! Then one hiss, and the whole earth was one great scorching blaze. One second--a fierce red tongue of flame had shot up the trunk of Ygdrasil, and it fell, a mass of blackened ashes. The sea hissed and steamed. The earth melted. The Frost giants, Loke, the serpent, the Fenris-wolf, all, all were wrapped in flame. A second more, and there was no living thing in all the earth. For Ragnarok, the Reign of Fire, had come; and with it came an end to Life--and end alike to gods and giants; an end to all creatures of the land and sea; an end even to the great earth itself. VOCABULARY. As'gard: (s like z) Abode of the gods. Ask: The first woman; made from a tree. Baldur: (Bal'-dur) The god of summer sunshine. Bauge: (Boúgh-ge: hard g) A giant brother of Suttung. Brá-ge: (a as in far: hard ge) A son of Odin and famed for wisdom and eloquence. Brok: (pronounced Brock) A dwarf. Bölverk: (o like e in heard, Bél-verk) A name assumed by Odin. Elle: Old age. Embla: The first man; made from a tree. Fenris wolf: Monster wolf, son of Loki. Frigg: Wife of Odin. Frey: (Fray) Ruler over the light elves. Frey-ja: (e as in let, j like y, Fréy-ya) Sister of Frey; half the fallen in battle belonged to her. Fímbul: The terrible winter just before the destruction of the earth. Gold-fax: Hrungner's horse. Huge: (Hoó-ge: hard g) Thought. Hödor: (o as e in heard, Hö'-der) The slayer of Baldur. Hrung-ner: (Hroon'-gner) A giant. Hy'-mer: A giant, owner of the kettle, Mile-deep. Idun: (Idoon) Keeper of the Apples of Youth. I-fing: Name of a river. Jötunheim: (j like y, o like e in heard: Yér-toon-heém) Home of the giants. Loke, or Loki: (Lo-ke) The evil giant god. Loge: (Lo-ge: hard g) Wild-fire. Míd-gard: The abode of men. Magne: (Mág-ne) Thor's son. Norn: (Nôrn) The Three fates represented as three young women. Njord: (often spelled Ni-örd pronounced Nee-yèrd) Father of Frey and Freyja. Odin: (o-din) The fountain head of wisdom. Ragnarök: (rag'-na-rék) Twilight of the gods. Roskva: (rósk-va) A peasant girl who went with Thor to Utgard Loki's. Sindre, or Sindri: (sín-dre) A dwarf. Sif: (Seef) Thor's wife. Suttung: (supposed to be derived from Sup-tung) The giant who obtained the precious wine. Sleip-ner: Odin's horse. Skry-mer: (Skry-mer) The giant who met Thor in the forest. Thjal-fe: (Thy'al-fe) A peasant boy who went with Thor to Utgard Loki's. Thrym: A giant who stole Thor's hammer. Thor: Thunder-god. Utgard: The abode of Loki. Valhalla: (val-hál-la) The hall to which Odin took those slain in battle. Valkyrie: (Val-ky'-rie) Handmaidens of Odin Vafthrudnur: (Vaf-thróod-neer) A giant visited by Odin. Ygdrasil: (íg-dras-il) The world-embracing ash tree. NOTE [1] duel. 
37876	----	Teutonic Mythology Gods and Goddesses of the Northland IN THREE VOLUMES By VIKTOR RYDBERG, Ph.D., MEMBER OF THE SWEDISH ACADEMY; AUTHOR OF THE "THE LAST ATHENIAN" AND OTHER WORKS. _AUTHORISED TRANSLATION FROM THE SWEDISH_ BY RASMUS B. ANDERSON, LL.D., EX-UNITED STATES MINISTER TO DENMARK; AUTHOR OF "NORSE MYTHOLOGY," "VIKING TALES," ETC. HON. RASMUS B. ANDERSON, LL.D., Ph.D., EDITOR IN CHIEF. J. W. BUEL, Ph.D., MANAGING EDITOR. VOL. I. PUBLISHED BY THE NORROENA SOCIETY, LONDON COPENHAGEN STOCKHOLM BERLIN NEW YORK 1906 [Illustration] _OF THE_ Viking Edition _There are but six hundred and fifty sets made for the world, of which this is_ _No._ 99 [Illustration: NORROENA] COPYRIGHT, T. H. SMART, 1905. [Illustration: IDUN, HEIMDAL, LOKE, AND BRAGE. (_From an etching by Lorenz Frölich._)] Idun was the beautiful goddess who in Asgard was keeper of the apples which the gods ate to preserve eternal youth. She is most generally regarded as the wife of Brage. Heimdal, the son of nine mothers, was guardian against the giants of the bridge of the gods, Bifröst. With a trumpet he summoned all the gods together at Ragnarok when he and Loke slew each other. He was the god of light. Loke though beautiful in form was like Lucifer in character and was hence called the god of destruction. By the giantess Angerboda he had three offspring, viz: the Midgard serpent, the Fenris-wolf, and Hela, the latter becoming goddess of Hel. Brage was the son of Odin and being represented as the chief skald in Valhalla he is called the god of poetry. TEUTONIC MYTHOLOGY. * * * * * TABLE OF CONTENTS. VOLUME ONE. PART I. Page Introduction--The Ancient Aryans 1 (a) The Aryan Family of Languages 3 Hypothesis of Asiatic Origin of the Aryans 5 Hypothesis of European Origin of the Aryans 15 The Aryan Land of Europe 20 (b) Ancient Teutondom 26 PART II. (a) Mediæval Migration Sagas 32 The Troy Saga and Prose Edda 44 Saxo's Relation to the Story of Troy 47 Older Periods of the Troy Saga 50 Story of the Origin of Trojan Descent of the Franks 60 Odin as Leader of the Trojan Emigration 67 Materials of the Icelandic Troy Saga 83 Result of Foregoing Investigations 96 (b) Popular Traditions of the Middle Ages 99 Saxon and Swabian Migration Saga 107 The Frankish Migration Saga 111 Migration Saga of the Burgundians 113 Teutonic Emigration Saga 119 PART III. Myths Concerning the Creation of Man 126 Scef, the Original Patriarch 135 Borgar-Skjold, the Second Patriarch 143 Halfdan, the Third Patriarch 147 Halfdan's Enmity with Orvandel and Svipdag 151 Halfdan's Identity with Mannus 153 Sacred Runes Learned from Heimdal 159 Sorcery, the Reverse of Sacred Runes 165 Heimdal and the Sun Goddess 167 Loke Causes Enmity Between Gods and Creators 171 Halfdan Identical with Helge 180 The End of the Age of Peace 185 War with the Heroes from Svarin's Mound 194 Review of the Svipdag Myth 200 The World-War and its Causes 204 Myth Concerning the Sword Guardian 213 Breach Between Asas Vans. Siege of Asgard 235 Significance of the World-War 252 The War in Midgard. Hadding's Adventures 255 Position of the Divine Clans to the Warriors 262 Hadding's Defeat 268 Loke's Punishment 273 Original Model of the Bravalla Battle 281 The Dieterich Saga 285 PART IV. Myth in Regard to the Lower World 306 Gudmund, King of the Glittering Plains 309 Ruler of the Lower World 312 Fjallerus and Hadingus in the Low World 317 A Frisian Saga, Adam of Bremen 319 Odainsaker and the Glittering Plains 321 Identification of Odainsaker 336 Gudmund's Identity with Mimer 339 Mimer's Grove 341 LIST OF PHOTOGRAVURES. VOL. I. * * * * * Frontispiece--Idun, Heimdal, Loke, and Brage. Page Thor the Thunder God 120 Giant Thjasse in the Guise of an Eagle Carries off Loke 174 Odin Punishes the Monstrous Progeny of Loke 300 STOCKHOLM, NOVEMBER 20, 1887. HON. RASMUS B. ANDERSON, United States Minister, Copenhagen, Denmark. DEAR SIR, It gives me pleasure to authorise you to translate into English my work entitled "Researches in Teutonic Mythology," being convinced that no one could be found better qualified for this task than yourself. Certainly no one has taken a deeper interest than you in spreading among our Anglo-Saxon kinsmen, not only a knowledge of our common antiquity, but also of what modern Scandinavia is contributing to the advancement of culture--a work in which England and the United States of America are taking so large a share. Yours faithfully, VIKTOR RYDBERG. I. INTRODUCTION. * * * * * A. THE ANCIENT ARYANS. 1. THE WORDS GERMAN AND GERMANIC. Already at the beginning of the Christian era the name Germans was applied by the Romans and Gauls to the many clans of people whose main habitation was the extensive territory east of the Rhine, and north of the forest-clad Hercynian Mountains. That these clans constituted one race was evident to the Romans, for they all had a striking similarity in type of body; moreover, a closer acquaintance revealed that their numerous dialects were all variations of the same parent language, and finally, they resembled each other in customs, traditions, and religion. The characteristic features of the physical type of the Germans were light hair, blue eyes, light complexion, and tallness of stature as compared with the Romans. Even the saga-men, from whom the Roman historian Tacitus gathered the facts for his _Germania_--an invaluable work for the history of civilisation--knew that in the so-called Svevian Sea, north of the German continent, lay another important part of Germany, inhabited by Sviones, a people divided into several clans. Their kinsmen on the continent described them as rich in weapons and fleets, and in warriors on land and sea (Tac., _Germ._, 44). This northern sea-girt portion of Germany is called Scandinavia--Scandeia by other writers of the Roman Empire; and there can be no doubt that this name referred to the peninsula which, as far back as historical monuments can be found, has been inhabited by the ancestors of the Swedes and the Norwegians. I therefore include in the term Germans the ancestors of both the Scandinavian and Gothic and German (_tyske_) peoples. Science needs a sharply-defined collective noun for all these kindred branches sprung from one and the same root, and the name by which they make their first appearance in history would doubtless long since have been selected for this purpose had not some of the German writers applied the terms _German_ and _Deutsch_ as synonymous. This is doubtless the reason why Danish authors have adopted the word "Goths" to describe the Germanic nation. But there is an important objection to this in the fact that the name _Goths_ historically is claimed by a particular branch of the family--that branch, namely, to which the East and West Goths belonged, and in order to avoid ambiguity, the term should be applied solely to them. It is therefore necessary to re-adopt the old collective name, even though it is not of Germanic origin, the more so as there is a prospect that a more correct use of the words German and Germanic is about to prevail in Germany itself, for the German scholars also feel the weight of the demand which science makes on a precise and rational terminology.[1] [Footnote 1: Viktor Rydberg styles his work _Researches in Germanic Mythology_, but after consultation with the Publishers, the Translator decided to use the word _Teutonic_ instead of _Germanic_ both in the title and in the body of the work. In English, the words German, Germany, and Germanic are ambiguous. The Scandinavians and Germans have the words _Tyskland_, _tysk_, _Deutschland_, _deutsch_, when they wish to refer to the present Germany, and thus it is easy for them to adopt the words _German_ and _Germanisk_ to describe the Germanic or Teutonic peoples collectively. The English language applies the above word _Dutch_ not to Germany, but to Holland, and it is necessary to use the words _German_ and _Germany_ in translating _deutsch_, _Deutschland_, _tysk_, and _Tyskland_. Teutonic has already been adopted by Max Müller and other scholars in England and America as a designation of all the kindred branches sprung from one and the same root, and speaking dialects of the same original tongue. The words Teuton, Teutonic, and Teutondom also have the advantage over German and Germanic that they are of native growth and not borrowed from a foreign language. In the following pages, therefore, the word Teutonic will be used to describe Scandinavians, Germans, Anglo-Saxons, &c., collectively, while German will be used exclusively in regard to Germany proper.--TRANSLATOR.] 2. THE ARYAN FAMILY OF LANGUAGES. It is universally known that the Teutonic dialects are related to the Latin, the Greek, the Slavic, and Celtic languages, and that the kinship extends even beyond Europe to the tongues of Armenia, Irania, and India. The holy books ascribed to Zoroaster, which to the priests of Cyrus and Darius were what the Bible is to us; Rigveda's hymns, which to the people dwelling on the banks of the Ganges are God's revealed word, are written in a language which points to a common origin with our own. However unlike all these kindred tongues may have grown with the lapse of thousands of years, still they remain as a sharply-defined group of older and younger sisters as compared with all other language groups of the world. Even the Semitic languages are separated therefrom by a chasm so broad and deep that it is hardly possible to bridge it. This language-group of ours has been named in various ways. It has been called the Indo-Germanic, the Indo-European, and the Aryan family of tongues. I have adopted the last designation. The Armenians, Iranians, and Hindoos I call the Asiatic Aryans; all the rest I call the European Aryans. Certain it is that these sister-languages have had a common mother, the ancient Aryan speech, and that this has had a geographical centre from which it has radiated. (By such an ancient Aryan language cannot, of course, be meant a tongue stereotyped in all its inflections, like the literary languages of later times, but simply the unity of those dialects which were spoken by the clans dwelling around this centre of radiation.) By comparing the grammatical structure of all the daughters of this ancient mother, and by the aid of the laws hitherto discovered in regard to the transition of sounds from one language to another, attempts have been made to restore this original tongue which many thousand years ago ceased to vibrate. These attempts cannot, of course, in any sense claim to reproduce an image corresponding to the lost original as regards syntax and inflections. Such a task would be as impossible as to reconstruct, on the basis of all the now spoken languages derived from the Latin, the dialect used in Latium. The purpose is simply to present as faithful an idea of the ancient tongue as the existing means permit. In the most ancient historical times Aryan-speaking people were found only in Asia and Europe. In seeking for the centre and the earliest conquests of the ancient Aryan language, the scholar may therefore keep within the limits of these two continents, and in Asia he may leave all the eastern and the most of the southern portion out of consideration, since these extensive regions have from prehistoric times been inhabited by Mongolian and allied tribes, and may for the present be regarded as the cradle of these races. It may not be necessary to remind the reader that the question of the original home of the ancient Aryan tongue is not the same as the question in regard to the cradle of the Caucasian race. The white race may have existed, and may have been spread over a considerable portion of the old world, before a language possessing the peculiarities belonging to the Aryan had appeared; and it is a known fact that southern portions of Europe, such as the Greek and Italian peninsulas, were inhabited by white people before they were conquered by Aryans. 3. THE HYPOTHESIS CONCERNING THE ASIATIC ORIGIN OF THE ARYANS. When the question of the original home of the Aryan language and race was first presented, there were no conflicting opinions on the main subject.[2] All who took any interest in the problem referred to Asia as the cradle of the Aryans. Asia had always been regarded as the cradle of the human race. In primeval time, the yellow Mongolian, the black African, the American redskin, and the fair European had there tented side by side. From some common centre in Asia they had spread over the whole surface of the inhabited earth. Traditions found in the literatures of various European peoples in regard to an immigration from the East supported this view. The progenitors of the Romans were said to have come from Troy. The fathers of the Teutons were reported to have immigrated from Asia, led by Odin. There was also the original home of the domestic animals and of the cultivated plants. And when the startling discovery was made that the sacred books of the Iranians and Hindoos were written in languages related to the culture languages of Europe, when these linguistic monuments betrayed a wealth of inflections in comparison with which those of the classical languages turned pale, and when they seemed to have the stamp of an antiquity by the side of which the European dialects seemed like children, then what could be more natural than the following conclusion: The original form has been preserved in the original home; the farther the streams of emigration got away from this home, the more they lost on the way of their language and of their inherited view of the world; that is, of their mythology, which among the Hindoos seemed so original and simple as if it had been watered by the dews of life's dawn. [Footnote 2: Compare O. Schrader, _Sprachvergleichung und Urgeschichte_ (1883).] To begin with, there was no doubt that the original tongue itself, the mother of all the other Aryan languages, had already been found when Zend or Sanscrit was discovered. Fr. v. Schlegel, in his work published in 1808, on the _Language and Wisdom of the Hindoos_, regarded Sanscrit as the mother of the Aryan family of languages, and India as the original home of the Aryan family of peoples. Thence, it was claimed, colonies were sent out in prehistoric ages to other parts of Asia and to Europe; nay, even missionaries went forth to spread the language and religion of the mother-country among other peoples. Schlegel's compatriot Link looked upon Zend as the oldest language and mother of Sanscrit, and the latter he regarded as the mother of the rest; and as the Zend, in his opinion, was spoken in Media and surrounding countries, it followed that the highlands of Media, Armenia, and Georgia were the original home of the Aryans, a view which prevailed among the leading scholars of the age, such as Anquetil-Duperron, Herder, and Heeren, and found a place in the historical text-books used in the schools from 1820 to 1840. Since Bopp published his epoch-making Comparative Grammar the illusion that the Aryan mother-tongue had been discovered had, of course, gradually to give place to the conviction that all the Aryan languages, Zend and Sanscrit included, were relations of equal birth. This also affected the theory that the Persians or Hindoos were the original people, and that the cradle of our race was to be sought in their homes. On the other hand, the Hindooic writings were found to contain evidence that, during the centuries in which the most of the Rigveda songs were produced, the Hindooic Aryans were possessors only of Kabulistan and Pendschab, whence, either expelling or subjugating an older black population, they had advanced toward the Ganges. Their social condition was still semi-nomadic, at least in the sense that their chief property consisted in herds, and the feuds between the clans had for their object the plundering of such possessions from each other. Both these facts indicated that these Aryans were immigrants to the Indian peninsula, but not the aborigines, wherefore their original home must be sought elsewhere. The strong resemblance found between Zend and Sanscrit, and which makes these dialects a separate subdivision in the Aryan family of languages, must now, since we have learned to regard them as sister-tongues, be interpreted as a proof that the Zend people or Iranians and the Sanscrit people or Hindoos were in ancient times one people with a common country, and that this union must have continued to exist long after the European Aryans were parted from them and had migrated westwards. When, then, the question was asked where this Indo-Iranian cradle was situated, the answer was thought to be found in a chapter of Avesta, to which the German scholar Rhode had called attention already in 1820. To him it seemed to refer to a migration from a more northerly and colder country. The passage speaks of sixteen countries created by the fountain of light and goodness, Ormuzd (Ahura Mazda), and of sixteen plagues produced by the fountain of evil, Ahriman (Angra Mainyu), to destroy the work of Ormuzd. The first country was a paradise, but Ahriman ruined it with cold and frost, so that it had ten months of winter and only two of summer. The second country, in the name of which Sughda Sogdiana was recognised, was rendered uninhabitable by Ahriman by a pest which destroyed the domestic animals. Ahriman made the third (which by the way, was recognised as Merv) impossible as a dwelling on account of never-ceasing wars and plunderings. In this manner thirteen other countries with partly recognisable names are enumerated as created by Ormuzd, and thirteen other plagues produced by Ahriman. Rhode's view, that these sixteen regions were stations in the migration of the Indo-Iranian people from their original country became universally adopted, and it was thought that the track of the migration could now be followed back through Persia, Baktria and Sogdiana, up to the first region created by Ormuzd, which, accordingly, must have been situated in the interior highlands of Asia, around the sources of the Jaxartes and Oxus. The reason for the emigration hence was found in the statement that, although Ormuzd had made this country an agreeable abode, Ahriman had destroyed it with frost and snow. In other words, this part of Asia was supposed to have had originally a warmer temperature, which suddenly or gradually became lower, wherefore the inhabitants found it necessary to seek new homes in the West and South. The view that the sources of Oxus and Jaxartes are the original home of the Aryans is even now the prevailing one, or at least the one most widely accepted, and since the day of Rhode it has been supported and developed by several distinguished scholars. Then Julius v. Klaproth pointed out, already in 1830, that, among the many names of various kinds of trees found in India, there is a single one which they have in common with other Aryan peoples, and this is the name of the birch. India has many kinds of trees that do not grow in Central Asia, but the birch is found both at the sources of the Oxus and Jaxartes, and on the southern spurs of the Himalaya mountains. If the Aryan Hindoos immigrated from the highlands of Central Asia to the regions through which the Indus and Ganges seek their way to the sea, then it is natural, that when they found on their way new unknown kinds of trees, then they gave to these new names, but when they discovered a tree with which they had long been acquainted, then they would apply the old familiar name to it. Mr. Lassen, the great scholar of Hindooic antiquities, gave new reasons for the theory that the Aryan Hindoos were immigrants, who through the western pass of Hindukush and through Kabulistan came to Pendschab, and thence slowly occupied the Indian peninsula. That their original home, as well as that of their Iranian kinsmen, was that part of the highlands of Central Asia pointed out by Rhode, he found corroborated by the circumstance, that there are to be found there, even at the present time, remnants of a people, the so-called Tadchiks, who speak Iranian dialects. According to Lassen, these were to be regarded as direct descendants of the original Aryan people, who remained in the original home, while other parts of the same people migrated to Baktria or Persia and became Iranians, or migrated down to Pendschab and became Hindoos, or migrated to Europe and became Celts, Greco-Italians, Teutons, and Slavs. Jacob Grimm, whose name will always be mentioned with honour as the great pathfinder in the field of Teutonic antiquities, was of the same opinion; and that whole school of scientists who were influenced by romanticism and by the philosophy of Schelling made haste to add to the real support sought for the theory in ethnological and philological facts, a support from the laws of natural analogy and from poetry. A mountain range, so it was said, is the natural divider of waters. From its fountains the streams flow in different directions and irrigate the plains. In the same manner the highlands of Central Asia were the divider of Aryan folk-streams, which through Baktria sought their way to the plains of Persia, through the mountain passes of Hindukush to India, through the lands north of the Caspian Sea to the extensive plains of modern Russia, and so on to the more inviting regions of Western Europe. The sun rises in the east, _ex oriente lux_; the highly-gifted race, which was to found the European nations, has, under the guidance of Providence, like the sun, wended its way from east to west. In taking a grand view of the subject, a mystic harmony was found to exist between the apparent course of the sun and the real migrations of people. The minds of the people dwelling in Central and Eastern Asia seemed to be imbued with a strange instinctive yearning. The Aryan folk-streams, which in prehistoric times deluged Europe, were in this respect the forerunners of the hordes of Huns which poured in from Asia, and which in the fourth century gave the impetus to the Teutonic migrations, and of the Mongolian hordes which in the thirteenth century invaded our continent. The Europeans themselves are led by this same instinct to follow the course of the sun: they flow in great numbers to America, and these folk-billows break against each other on the coasts of the Pacific Ocean. "At the breast of our Asiatic mother," thus exclaimed, in harmony with the romantic school, a scholar with no mean linguistic attainments--"at the breast of our Asiatic mother, the Aryan people of Europe have rested; around her as their mother they have played as children. There or nowhere is the playground; there or nowhere is the gymnasium of the first physical and intellectual efforts on the part of the Aryan race." The theory that the cradle of the Aryan race stood in Central Asia near the sources of the Indus and Jaxartes had hardly been contradicted in 1850, and seemed to be secured for the future by the great number of distinguished and brilliant names which had given their adhesion to it. The need was now felt of clearing up the order and details of these emigrations. All the light to be thrown on this subject had to come from philology and from the geography of plants and animals. The first author who, in this manner and with the means indicated, attempted to furnish proofs in detail that the ancient Aryan land was situated around the Oxus river was Adolphe Pictet. There, he claimed, the Aryan language had been formed out of older non-Aryan dialects. There the Aryan race, on account of its spreading over Baktria and neighbouring regions, had divided itself into branches of various dialects, which there, in a limited territory, held the same geographical relations to each other as they hold to each other at the present time in another and immensely larger territory. In the East lived the nomadic branch which later settled in India; in the East, too, but farther north, that branch herded their flocks, which afterwards became the Iranian and took possession of Persia. West of the ancestors of the Aryan Hindoos dwelt the branch which later appears as the Greco-Italians and north of the latter the common progenitors of Teutons and Slavs had their home. In the extreme West dwelt the Celts, and they were also the earliest emigrants to the West. Behind them marched the ancestors of the Teutons and Slavs by a more northern route to Europe. The last in this procession to Europe were the ancestors of the Greco-Italians, and for this reason their languages have preserved more resemblance to those of the Indo-Iranians who migrated into Southern Asia than those of the other European Aryans. For this view Pictet gives a number of reasons. According to him, the vocabulary common to more or less of the Aryan branches preserves names of minerals, plants, and animals which are found in those latitudes, and in those parts of Asia which he calls the original Aryan country. The German linguist Schleicher has to some extent discussed the same problem as Pictet in a series of works published in the fifties and sixties. The same has been done by the famous German-English scientist Max Müller. Schleicher's theory, briefly stated, is the following: The Aryan race originated in Central Asia. There, in the most ancient Aryan country, the original Aryan tongue was spoken for many generations. The people multiplied and enlarged their territory, and in various parts of the country they occupied, the language assumed various forms, so that there were developed at least two different languages before the great migrations began. As the chief cause of the emigrations, Schleicher regards the fact that the primitive agriculture practised by the Aryans, including the burning of the forests, impoverished the soil and had a bad effect on the climate. The principles he laid down and tried to vindicate were: (1) The farther East an Aryan people dwells, the more it has preserved of the peculiarities of the original Aryan tongue. (2) The farther West an Aryan-derived tongue and daughter people are found, the earlier this language was separated from the mother-tongue, and the earlier this people became separated from the original stock. Max Müller holds the common view in regard to the Asiatic origin of the Aryans. The main difference between him and Schleicher is that Müller assumes that the Aryan tongue originally divided itself into an Asiatic and an European branch. He accordingly believes that all the Aryan-European tongues and all the Aryan-European peoples have developed from the same European branch, while Schleicher assumes that in the beginning the division produced a Teutonic and Letto-Slavic branch on the one hand, and an Indo-Iranian, Greco-Italic, and Celtic on the other. This view of the origin of the Aryans had scarcely met with any opposition when we entered the second half of our century. We might add that it had almost ceased to be questioned. The theory that the Aryans were cradled in Asia seemed to be established as an historical fact, supported by a mass of ethnographical, linguistic, and historical arguments, and vindicated by a host of brilliant scientific names. 4. THE HYPOTHESIS CONCERNING THE EUROPEAN ORIGIN OF THE ARYANS. In the year 1854 was heard for the first time a voice of doubt. The sceptic was an English ethnologist, by name Latham, who had spent many years in Russia studying the natives of that country. Latham was unwilling to admit that a single one of the many reasons given for the Asiatic origin of our family of languages was conclusive, or that the accumulative weight of all the reasons given amounted to real evidence. He urged that they who at the outset had treated this question had lost sight of the rules of logic, and that in explaining a fact it is a mistake to assume too many premises. The great fact which presents itself and which is to be explained is this: There are Aryans in Europe and there are Aryans in Asia. The major part of Aryans are in Europe, and here the original language has split itself into the greatest number of idioms. From the main Aryan trunk in Europe only two branches extend into Asia. The northern branch is a new creation, consisting of Russian colonisation from Europe; the southern branch, that is, the Iranian-Hindooic, is, on the other hand, prehistoric, but was still growing in the dawn of history, and the branch was then growing from West to East, from Indus toward Ganges. When historical facts to the contrary are wanting, then the root of a great family of languages should naturally be looked for in the ground which supports the trunk and is shaded by the crown, and not underneath the ends of the farthest-reaching branches. The mass of Mongolians dwell in Eastern Asia, and for this very reason Asia is accepted as the original home of the Mongolian race. The great mass of Aryans live in Europe, and have lived there as far back as history sheds a ray of light. Why, then, not apply to the Aryans and to Europe the same conclusions as hold good in the case of the Mongolians and Asia? And why not apply to ethnology the same principles as are admitted unchallenged in regard to the geography of plants and animals? Do we not in botany and zoology seek the original home and centre of a species where it shows the greatest vitality, the greatest power of multiplying and producing varieties? These questions, asked by Latham, remained for some time unanswered, but finally they led to a more careful examination of the soundness of the reasons given for the Asiatic hypothesis. The gist of Latham's protest is, that the question was decided in favour of Asia without an examination of the other possibility, and that in such an examination, if it were undertaken, it would appear at the very outset that the other possibility, that is, the European origin of the Aryans--is more plausible, at least from the standpoint of methodology. This objection on the part of an English scholar did not even produce an echo for many years, and it seemed to be looked upon simply as a manifestation of that fondness for eccentricity which we are wont to ascribe to his nationality. He repeated his protest in 1862, but it still took five years before it appeared to have made any impression. In 1867, the celebrated linguist Whitney came out, not to defend Latham's theory that Europe is the cradle of the Aryan race, but simply to clear away the widely spread error that the science of languages had demonstrated the Asiatic origin of the Aryans. As already indicated, it was especially Adolphe Pictet who had given the first impetus to this illusion in his great work _Origines indo-européennes_. Already, before Whitney, the Germans Weber and Kuhn had, without attacking the Asiatic hypothesis, shown that the most of Pictet's arguments failed to prove that for which they were intended. Whitney now came and refuted them all without exception, and at the same time he attacked the assumption made by Rhode, and until that time universally accepted, that a record of an Aryan emigration from the highlands of Central Asia was to be found in that chapter of Avesta which speaks of the sixteen lands created by Ormuzd for the good of man, but which Ahriman destroyed by sixteen different plagues. Avesta does not with a single word indicate that the first of these lands which Ahriman destroyed with snow and frost is to be regarded as the original home of the Iranians, or that they ever in the past emigrated from any of them. The assumption that a migration record of historical value conceals itself within this geographical mythological sketch is a mere conjecture, and yet it was made the very basis of the hypothesis so confidently built upon for years about Central Asia as the starting-point of the Aryans. The following year, 1868, a prominent German linguist--Mr. Benfey--came forward and definitely took Latham's side. He remarked at the outset that hitherto geological investigations had found the oldest traces of human existence in the soil of Europe, and that, so long as this is the case, there is no scientific fact which can admit the assumption that the present European stock has immigrated from Asia after the quaternary period. The mother-tongues of many of the dialects which from time immemorial have been spoken in Europe may just as well have originated on this continent as the mother-tongues of the Mongolian dialects now spoken in Eastern Asia have originated where the descendants now dwell. That the Aryan mother-tongue originated in Europe, not in Asia, Benfey found probably on the following grounds: In Asia, lions are found even at the present time as far to the north as ancient Assyria, and the tigers make depredations over the highlands of Western Iran, even to the coasts of the Caspian Sea. These great beasts of prey are known and named even among Asiatic people who dwell north of their habitats. If, therefore, the ancient Aryans had lived in a country visited by these animals, or if they had been their neighbours, they certainly would have had names for them; but we find that the Aryan Hindoos call the lion by a word not formed from an Aryan root, and that the Aryan Greeks borrowed the word lion (_lis_, _leon_) from a Semitic language. (There is, however, division of opinion on this point.) Moreover, the Aryan languages have borrowed the word camel, by which the chief beast of burden in Asia is called. The home of this animal is Baktria, or precisely that part of Central Asia in the vicinity of which an effort has been made to locate the cradle of the Aryan tongue. Benfey thinks the ancient Aryan country has been situated in Europe, north of the Black Sea, between the mouth of the Danube and the Caspian Sea. Since the presentation of this argument, several defenders of the European hypothesis have come forward, among them Geiger, Cuno, Friedr. Müller, Spiegel, Pösche, and more recently Schrader and Penka. Schrader's work, _Sprachvergleichung und Urgeschichte_, contains an excellent general review of the history of the question, original contributions to its solution, and a critical but cautious opinion in regard to its present position. In France, too, the European hypothesis has found many adherents. Geiger found, indeed, that the cradle of the Aryan race was to be looked for much farther to the west than Benfey and others had supposed. His hypothesis, based on the evidence furnished by the geography of plants, places the ancient Aryan land in Germany. The cautious Schrader, who dislikes to deal with conjectures, regards the question as undecided, but he weighs the arguments presented by the various sides, and reaches the conclusion that those in favour of the European origin of the Aryans are the stronger, but that they are not conclusive. Schrader himself, through his linguistic and historical investigations, has been led to believe that the Aryans, while they still were one people, belonged to the stone age, and had not yet become acquainted with the use of metals. 5. THE ARYAN LAND OF EUROPE. On _one_ point--and that is for our purpose the most important one--the advocates of both hypotheses have approached each other. The leaders of the defenders of the Asiatic hypothesis have ceased to regard Asia as the cradle of all the dialects into which the ancient Aryan tongue has been divided. While they cling to the theory that the Aryan inhabitants of Europe have immigrated from Asia, they have well-nigh entirely ceased to claim that these peoples, already before their departure from their Eastern home, were so distinctly divided linguistically that it was necessary to imagine certain branches of the race speaking Celtic, others Teutonic, others, again, Greco-Italian, even before they came to Europe. The prevailing opinion among the advocates of the Asiatic hypothesis now doubtless is, that the Aryans who immigrated to Europe formed one homogeneous mass, which gradually on our continent divided itself definitely into Celts, Teutons, Slavs, and Greco-Italians. The adherents of both hypotheses have thus been able to agree that there has been _a European-Aryan country_. And the question as to where it was located is of the most vital importance, as it is closely connected with the question of the _original home of the Teutons_, since the ancestors of the Teutons must have inhabited this ancient European-Aryan country. Philology has attempted to answer the former question by comparing all the words of all the Aryan-European languages. The attempt has many obstacles to overcome; for, as Schrader has remarked, the ancient words which to-day are common to all or several of these languages are presumably a mere remnant of the ancient European-Aryan vocabulary. Nevertheless, it is possible to arrive at important results in this manner, if we draw conclusions from the words that remain, but take care not to draw conclusions from what is wanting. The view gained in this manner is, briefly stated, as follows: The Aryan country of Europe has been situated in latitudes where snow and ice are common phenomena. The people who have emigrated thence to more southern climes have not forgotten either the one or the other name of those phenomena. To a comparatively northern latitude points also the circumstance that the ancient European Aryans recognised only three seasons--winter, spring, and summer. This division of the year continued among the Teutons even in the days of Tacitus. For autumn they had no name. Many words for mountains, valley, streams, and brooks common to all the languages show that the European-Aryan land was not wanting in elevations, rocks, and flowing waters. Nor has it been a treeless plain. This is proven by many names of trees. The trees are fir, birch, willow, elm, elder, hazel, and a beech called _bhaga_, which means a tree with eatable fruit. From this word _bhaga_ is derived the Greek _phegos_, the Latin _fagus_, the German _Buche_, and the Swedish _bok_. But it is a remarkable fact that the Greeks did not call the beech but the oak _phegos_, while the Romans called the beech _fagus_. From this we conclude that the European Aryans applied the word _bhaga_ both to the beech and the oak, since both bear similar fruit; but in some parts of the country the name was particularly applied to the beech, in others to the oak. The beech is a species of tree which gradually approaches the north. On the European continent it is not found east of a line drawn from Königsberg across Poland and Podolia to Crimea. This leads to the conclusion that the Aryan country of Europe must to a great extent have been situated west of this line, and that the regions inhabited by the ancestors of the Romans, and north of them by the progenitors of the Teutons, must be looked for west of this botanical line, and between the Alps and the North Sea. Linguistic comparisons also show that the Aryan territory of Europe was situated near an ocean or large body of water. Scandinavians, Germans, Celts, and Romans have preserved a common name for the ocean--the Old Norse _mar_, the Old High German _mari_, the Latin _mare_. The names of certain sea-animals are also common to various Aryan languages. The Swedish _hummer_ (lobster) corresponds to the Greek _kamaros_, and the Swedish _säl_ (seal) to the Greek _selachos_. In the Aryan country of Europe there were domestic animals--cows, sheep, and goats. The horse was also known, but it is uncertain whether it was used for riding or driving, or simply valued on account of its flesh and milk. On the other hand, the ass was not known, its domain being particularly the plains of Central Asia. The bear, wolf, otter, and beaver certainly belonged to the fauna of Aryan Europe. The European Aryans must have cultivated at least one, perhaps two kinds of grain; also flax, the name of which is preserved in the Greek _linon_ (linen), the Latin _linum_, and in other languages. The Aryans knew the art of brewing mead from honey. That they also understood the art of drinking it even to excess may be taken for granted. This drink was dear to the hearts of the ancient Aryans, and its name has been faithfully preserved both by the tribes that settled near the Ganges, and by those who emigrated to Great Britain. The Brahmin by the Ganges still knows this beverage as _madhu_, the Welchman has known it as _medu_, the Lithuanian as _medus_; and when the Greek Aryans came to Southern Europe and became acquainted with wine, they gave it the name of mead (_methu_). It is not probable that the European Aryans knew bronze or iron, or, if they did know any of the metals, had any large quantity or made any daily use of them, so long as they linguistically formed one homogeneous body, and lived in that part of Europe which we here call the Aryan domain. The only common name for metal is that which we find in the Latin _aes_ (copper), in the Gothic _aiz_, and in the Hindooic _áyas_. As is known, the Latin _aes_, like the Gothic _aiz_, means both copper and bronze. That the word originally meant copper, and afterwards came to signify bronze, which is an alloy of copper and tin, seems to be a matter of course, and that it was applied only to copper and not to bronze among the ancient Aryans seems clear not only because a common name for tin is wanting, but also for the far better and remarkable reason particularly pointed out by Schrader, that all the Aryan European languages, even those which are nearest akin to each other and are each other's neighbours, lack a common word for the tools of a smith and the inventory of a forge, and also for the various kinds of weapons of defence and attack. Most of all does it astonish us, that in respect to weapons the dissimilarity of names is so complete in the Greek and Roman tongues. Despite this fact, the ancient Aryans have certainly used various kinds of weapons--the club, the hammer, the axe, the knife, the spear, and the crossbow. All these weapons are of such a character that they could be made of stone, wood, and horn. Things more easily change names when the older materials of which they were made give place to new hitherto unknown materials. It is, therefore, probable that the European Aryans were in the stone age, and at best were acquainted with copper before and during the period when their language was divided into several dialects. Where, then, on our continent was the home of this Aryan European people in the stone age? Southern Europe, with its peninsulas extending into the Mediterranean, must doubtless have been outside of the boundaries of the Aryan land of Europe. The Greek Aryans have immigrated to Hellas, and the Italian Aryans are immigrants to the Italian peninsula. Spain has even within historical times been inhabited by Iberians and Basques, and Basques dwell there at present: If, as the linguistic monuments seem to prove, the European Aryans lived near an ocean, this cannot have been the Mediterranean Sea. There remain the Black and Caspian Sea on the one hand, the Baltic and the North Sea on the other. But if, as the linguistic monuments likewise seem to prove, the European Aryans for a great part, at least, lived west of a botanical line indicated by the beech in a country producing fir, oak, elm, and elder, then they could not have been limited to the treeless plains which extend along the Black Sea from the mouth of the Danube, through Dobrudscha, Bessarabia, and Cherson, past the Crimea. Students of early Greek history do not any longer assume that the Hellenic immigrants found their way through these countries to Greece, but that they came from the north-west and followed the Adriatic down to Epirus; in other words, they came the same way as the Visigoths under Alarik, and the Eastgoths under Theodoric in later times. Even the Latin tribes came from the north. The migrations of the Celts, so far as history sheds any light on the subject, were from the north and west toward the south and east. The movements of the Teutonic races were from north to south, and they migrated both eastward and westward. Both prehistoric and historic facts thus tend to establish the theory that the Aryan domain of Europe, within undefinable limits, comprised the central and north part of Europe; and as one or more seas were known to these Aryans, we cannot exclude from the limits of this knowledge the ocean penetrating the north of Europe from the west. On account of their undeveloped agriculture, which compelled them to depend chiefly on cattle for their support, the European Aryans must have occupied an extensive territory. Of the mutual position and of the movements of the various tribes within this territory nothing can be stated, except that sooner or later, but already away back in prehistoric times, they must have occupied precisely the position in which we find them at the dawn of history and which they now hold. The Aryan tribes which first entered Gaul must have lived west of those tribes which became the progenitors of the Teutons, and the latter must have lived west of those who spread an Aryan language over Russia. South of this line, but still in Central Europe, there must have dwelt another body of Aryans, the ancestors of the Greeks and Romans, the latter west of the former. Farthest to the north of all these tribes must have dwelt those people who afterwards produced the Teutonic tongue. B. ANCIENT TEUTONDOM (GERMANIEN). 6. THE GEOGRAPHICAL POSITION OF ANCIENT TEUTONDOM. THE STONE AGE OF PREHISTORIC TEUTONDOM. The northern position of the ancient Teutons necessarily had the effect that they, better than all other Aryan people, preserved their original race-type, as they were less exposed to mixing with non-Aryan elements. In the south, west, and east, they had kinsmen, separating them from non-Aryan races. To the north, on the other hand, lay a territory which, by its very nature, could be but sparsely populated, if it was inhabited at all, before it was occupied by the fathers of the Teutons. The Teutonic type, which doubtless also was the Aryan in general before much spreading and consequent mixing with other races had taken place, has, as already indicated, been described in the following manner: Tall, white skin, blue eyes, fair hair. Anthropological science has given them one more mark--they are dolicocephalous, that is, having skulls whose anterior-posterior diameter, or that from the frontal to the occipital bone, exceeds the transverse diameter. This type appears most pure in the modern Swedes, Norwegians, Danes, and to some extent the Dutch, in the inhabitants of those parts of Great Britain that are most densely settled by Saxon and Scandinavian emigrants; and in the people of certain parts of North Germany. Welcker's craniological measurements give the following figures for the breadth and length of Teutonic skulls: Swedes and Hollanders, 75--71 Icelanders and Danes, 76--71 Englishmen, 76--73 Holsteinians, 77--71 Hanoverians, The vicinity of Jena, Bonn, and Cologne, 77--72 Hessians, 79--72 Swabians, 79--73 Bavarians, 80--74 Thus the dolicocephalous form passes in Middle and Southern Germany into the brachycephalous. The investigations made at the suggestion of Virchow in Germany, Belgium, Switzerland, and Austria, in regard to blonde and brunette types, are of great interest. An examination of more than nine million individuals showed the following result: Germany, 31.80% blonde, 14.05% brunette, 54.15% mixed. Austria, 19.79% blonde, 23.17% brunette, 57.04% mixed. Switzerland, 11.10% blonde, 25.70% brunette, 61.40% mixed. Thus the blonde type has by far a greater number of representatives in Germany than in the southern part of Central Europe, though the latter has German-speaking inhabitants. In Germany itself the blonde type decreases and the brunette increases from north to south, while at the same time the dolicocephalous gives place to the brachycephalous. Southern Germany has 25% of brunettes, North Germany only 7%. If we now, following the strict rules of methodology which Latham insists on, bear in mind that the cradle of a race- or language-type should, if there are no definite historical facts to the contrary, especially be looked for where this type is most abundant and least changed, then there is no doubt that the part of Aryan Europe which the ancestors of the Teutons inhabited when they developed the Aryan tongue into the Teutonic must have included the coast of the Baltic and the North Sea. This theory is certainly not contradicted, but, on the other hand, supported by the facts so far as we have any knowledge of them. Roman history supplies evidence that the same parts of Europe in which the Teutonic type predominates at the present time were Teutonic already at the beginning of our era, and that then already the Scandinavian peninsula was inhabited by a North Teutonic people, which, among their kinsmen on the Continent, were celebrated for their wealth in ships and warriors. Centuries must have passed ere the Teutonic colonisation of the peninsula could have developed into so much strength--centuries during which, judging from all indications, the transition from the bronze to the iron age in Scandinavia must have taken place. The painstaking investigations of Montelius, conducted on the principle of methodology, have led him to the conclusion that Scandinavia and North Germany formed during the bronze age one common domain of culture in regard to weapons and implements. The manner in which the other domains of culture group themselves in Europe leaves no other place for the Teutonic race than Scandinavia and North Germany, and possibly Austria-Hungary, which the Teutonic domain resembles most. Back of the bronze age lies the stone age. The examinations, by v. Düben, Gustaf Retzius, and Virchow, of skeletons found in northern graves from the stone age prove the existence at that time of a race in the North which, so far as the characteristics of the skulls are concerned, cannot be distinguished from the race now dwelling there. Here it is necessary to take into consideration the results of probability reached by comparative philology, showing that the European Aryans were still in the stone age when they divided themselves into Celts, Teutons, etc., and occupied separate territories, and the fact that the Teutons, so far back as conclusions may be drawn from historical knowledge have occupied a more northern domain than their kinsmen. Thus all tends to show that when the Scandinavian peninsula was first settled by Aryans--doubtless coming from the South by way of Denmark--these Aryans belonged to the same race, which, later in history, appear with a Teutonic physiognomy and with Teutonic speech, and that their immigration to and occupation of the southern parts of the peninsula took place in the time of the Aryan stone age. For the history of civilisation, and particularly for mythology, these results are important. It is a problem to be solved by comparative mythology what elements in the various groups of Aryan myths may be the original common property of the race while the race was yet undivided. The conclusions reached gain in trustworthiness the further the Aryan tribes, whose myths are compared, are separated from each other geographically. If, for instance, the Teutonic mythology on the one hand and the Asiatic Aryan (Avesta and Rigveda) on the other are made the subject of comparative study, and if groups of myths are found which are identical not only in their general character and in many details, but also in the grouping of the details and the epic connection of the myths, then the probability that they belong to an age when the ancestors of the Teutons and those of the Asiatic Aryans dwelt together is greater, in the same proportion as the probability of an intimate and detailed exchange of ideas after the separation grows less between these tribes on account of the geographical distance. With all the certainty which it is possible for research to arrive at in this field, we may assume that these common groups of myths--at least the centres around which they revolve--originated at a time when the Aryans still formed, so to speak, a geographical and linguistic unity--in all probability at a time which lies far back in a common Aryan stone age. The discovery of groups of myths of this sort thus sheds light on beliefs and ideas that existed in the minds of our ancestors in an age of which we have no information save that which we get from the study of the finds. The latter, when investigated by painstaking and penetrating archæological scholars, certainly give us highly instructive information in other directions. In this manner it becomes possible to distinguish between older and younger elements of Teutonic mythology, and to secure a basis for studying its development through centuries which have left us no literary monuments. II. A. MEDIÆVAL MIGRATION SAGAS. THE LEARNED SAGA IN REGARD TO THE EMIGRATION FROM TROY-ASGARD. 7. THE SAGA IN HEIMSKRINGLA AND THE PROSE EDDA. In the preceding pages we have given the reasons which make it appear proper to assume that ancient Teutondom, within certain indefinable limits, included the coasts of the Baltic and the North Sea, that the Scandinavian countries constituted a part of this ancient Teutondom, and that they have been peopled by Teutons since the days of the stone age. The subject which I am now about to discuss requires an investigation in reference to what the Teutons themselves believed, in regard to this question, in the earliest times of which we have knowledge. Did they look upon themselves as aborigines or as immigrants in Teutondom? For the mythology, the answer to this question is of great weight. For pragmatic history, on the other hand, the answer is of little importance, for whatever they believed gives no reliable basis for conclusions in regard to historical facts. If they regarded themselves as aborigines, this does not hinder their having immigrated in prehistoric times, though their traditions have ceased to speak of it. If they regarded themselves as immigrants, then it does not follow that the traditions, in regard to the immigration, contain any historical kernel. Of the former we have an example in the case of the Brahmins and the higher castes in India: their orthodoxy requires them to regard themselves as aborigines of the country in which they live, although there is evidence that they are immigrants. Of the latter the Swedes are an example: the people here have been taught to believe that a greater or less portion of the inhabitants of Sweden are descended from immigrants who, led by Odin, are supposed to have come here about one hundred years before the birth of Christ, and that this immigration, whether it brought many or few people, was of the most decisive influence on the culture of the country, so that Swedish history might properly begin with the moment when Odin planted his feet on Swedish soil. The more accessible sources of the traditions in regard to Odin's immigration to Scandinavia are found in the Icelandic works, Heimskringla and the Prose Edda. Both sources are from the same time, that is, the thirteenth century, and are separated by more than two hundred years from the heathen age in Iceland. We will first consider Heimskringla's story. A river, by name Tanakvisl, or Vanakvisl, empties into the Black Sea. This river separates Asia from Europe. East of Tanakvisl, that is to say, then in Asia, is a country formerly called Asaland or Asaheim, and the chief citadel or town in that country was called Asgard. It was a great city of sacrifices, and there dwelt a chief who was known by the name Odin. Under him ruled twelve men who were high-priests and judges. Odin was a great chieftain and conqueror, and so victorious was he, that his men believed that victory was wholly inseparable from him. If he laid his blessing hand on anybody's head, success was sure to attend him. Even if he was absent, if called upon in distress or danger, his very name seemed to give comfort. He frequently went far away, and often remained absent half-a-year at a time. His kingdom was then ruled by his brothers Vile and Ve. Once he was absent so long that the Asas believed that he would never return. Then his brothers married his wife Frigg. Finally he returned, however, and took Frigg back again. The Asas had a people as their neighbours called the Vans. Odin made war on the Vans, but they defended themselves bravely. When both parties had been victorious and suffered defeat, they grew weary of warring, made peace, and exchanged hostages. The Vans sent their son Njord and his son Frey, and also Kvaser, as hostages to the Asas; and the latter gave in exchange Honer and Mimer. Odin gave Njord and Frey the dignity of priests. Frey's sister, too, Freyja, was made a priestess. The Vans treated the hostages they had received with similar consideration, and created Honer a chief and judge. But they soon seemed to discover that Honer was a stupid fellow. They considered themselves cheated in the exchange, and, being angry on this account, they cut off the head, not of Honer, but of his wise brother Mimer, and sent it to Odin. He embalmed the head, sang magic songs over it, so that it could talk to him and tell him many strange things. Asaland, where Odin ruled is separated by a great mountain range from Tyrkland, by which Heimskringla means Asia Minor, of which the celebrated Troy was supposed to have been the capital. In Tyrkland, Odin also had great possessions. But at that time the Romans invaded and subjugated all lands, and many rulers fled on that account from their kingdoms. And Odin, being wise and versed in the magic art, and knowing, therefore, that his descendants were to people the northern part of the world, he left his kingdom to his brothers Vile and Ve, and migrated with many followers to Gardarike, Russia. Njord, Frey, and Freyja, and the other priests who had ruled under him in Asgard, accompanied him, and sons of his were also with him. From Gardarike he proceeded to Saxland, conquered vast countries, and made his sons rulers over them. From Saxland he went to Funen, and settled there. Seeland did not then exist. Odin sent the maid Gefion north across the water to investigate what country was situated there. At that time ruled in Svithiod a chief by name Gylfe. He gave Gefion a ploughland,[3] and, by the help of four giants changed into oxen, Gefion cut out with the plough, and dragged into the sea near Funen that island which is now called Seeland. Where the land was ploughed away there is now a lake called Logrin. Skjold, Odin's son, got this land, and married Gefion. And when Gefion informed Odin that Gylfe possessed a good land, Odin went thither, and Gylfe, being unable to make resistance, though he too was a wise man skilled in witchcraft and sorcery, a peaceful compact was made, according to which Odin acquired a vast territory around Logrin; and in Sigtuna he established a great temple, where sacrifices henceforth were offered according to the custom of the Asas. To his priests he gave dwellings--Noatun to Njord, Upsala to Frey, Himminbjorg to Heimdal, Thrudvang to Thor, Breidablik to Balder, &c. Many new sports came to the North with Odin, and he and the Asas taught them to the people. Among other things, he taught them poetry and runes. Odin himself always talked in measured rhymes. Besides, he was a most excellent sorcerer. He could change shape, make his foes in a conflict blind and deaf; he was a wizard, and could wake the dead. He owned the ship Skidbladner, which could be folded as a napkin. He had two ravens, which he had taught to speak, and they brought him tidings from all lands. He knew where all treasures were hid in the earth, and could call them forth with the aid of magic songs. Among the customs he introduced in the North were cremation of the dead, the raising of mounds in memory of great men, the erection of bauta-stones in commemoration of others; and he introduced the three great sacrificial feasts--for a good year, for good crops, and for victory. Odin died in Svithiod. When he perceived the approach of death, he suffered himself to be marked with the point of a spear, and declared that he was going to Gudheim to visit his friends and receive all fallen in battle. This the Swedes believed. They have since worshipped him in the belief that he had an eternal life in the ancient Asgard, and they thought he revealed himself to them before great battles took place. On Svea's throne he was followed by Njord, the progenitor of the race of Ynglings. Thus Heimskringla. We now pass to the Younger Edda,[4] which in its Foreword gives us in the style of that time a general survey of history and religion. First, it gives from the Bible the story of creation and the deluge. Then a long story is told of the building of the tower of Babel. The descendants of Noah's son, Ham, warred against and conquered the sons of Sem, and tried in their arrogance to build a tower which should aspire to heaven itself. The chief manager in this enterprise was Zoroaster, and seventy-two master-masons and joiners served under him. But God confounded the tongues of these arrogant people so that each one of the seventy-two masters with those under him got their own language, which the others could not understand, and then each went his own way, and in this manner arose the seventy-two different languages in the world. Before that time only one language was spoken, and that was Hebrew. Where they tried to build the tower a city was founded and called Babylon. There Zoroaster became a king and ruled over many Assyrian nations, among which he introduced idolatry, and which worshiped him as Baal. The tribes that departed with his master-workmen also fell into idolatry, excepting the one tribe which kept the Hebrew language. It preserved also the original and pure faith. Thus, while Babylon became one of the chief altars of heathen worship, the island Crete became another. There was born a man, by name Saturnus, who became for the Cretans and Macedonians what Zoroaster was for the Assyrians. Saturnus' knowledge and skill in magic, and his art of producing gold from red-hot iron, secured him the power of a prince on Crete; and as he, moreover, had control over all invisible forces, the Cretans and Macedonians believed that he was a god, and he encouraged them in this faith. He had three sons--Jupiter, Neptunus, and Plutus. Of these, Jupiter resembled his father in skill and magic, and he was a great warrior who conquered many peoples. When Saturnus divided his kingdom among his sons, a feud arose. Plutus got as his share hell, and as this was the least desirable part he also received the dog named Cerberus. Jupiter, who received heaven, was not satisfied with this, but wanted the earth too. He made war against his father, who had to seek refuge in Italy, where he, out of fear of Jupiter, changed his name and called himself Njord, and where he became a useful king, teaching the inhabitants, who lived on nuts and roots, to plough and plant vineyards. Jupiter had many sons. From one of them, Dardanus, descended in the fifth generation Priamus of Troy. Priamus' son was Hektor, who in stature and strength was the foremost man in the world. From the Trojans the Romans are descended; and when Rome had grown to be a great power it adopted many laws and customs which had prevailed among the Trojans before them. Troy was situated in Tyrkland, near the centre of the earth. Under Priamus, the chief ruler, there were twelve tributary kings, and they spoke twelve languages. These twelve tributary kings were exceedingly wise men; they received the honour of gods, and from them all European chiefs are descended. One of these twelve was called Munon or Mennon. He was married to a daughter of Priamus, and had with her the son Tror, "whom we call Thor." He was a very handsome man, his hair shone fairer than gold, and at the age of twelve he was full-grown, and so strong that he could lift twelve bear-skins at the same time. He slew his foster-father and foster-mother, took possession of his foster-father's kingdom Thracia, "which we call Thrudheim," and thenceforward he roamed about the world, conquering berserks, giants, the greatest dragon, and other prodigies. In the North he met a prophetess by name Sibil (Sibylla), "whom we call Sif," and her he married. In the twentieth generation from this Thor, Vodin descended, "whom we call Odin," a very wise and well-informed man, who married Frigida, "whom we call Frigg." At that time the Roman general Pompey was making wars in the East, and also threatened the empire of Odin. Meanwhile Odin and his wife had learned through prophetic inspiration that a glorious future awaited them in the northern part of the world. He therefore emigrated from Tyrkland, and took with him many people, old and young, men and women, and costly treasures. Wherever they came they appeared to the inhabitants more like gods than men. And they did not stop before they came as far north as Saxland. There Odin remained a long time. One of his sons, Veggdegg, he appointed king of Saxland. Another son, Beldegg, "whom we call Balder," he made king in Westphalia. A third son, Sigge, became king in Frankland. Then Odin proceeded farther to the north and came to Reidgothaland, which is now called Jutland, and there took possession of as much as he wanted. There he appointed his son Skjold as king; then he came to Svithiod. Here ruled king Gylfe. When he heard of the expedition of Odin and his Asiatics he went to meet them, and offered Odin as much land and as much power in his kingdom as he might desire. One reason why people everywhere gave Odin so hearty a welcome and offered him land and power was that wherever Odin and his men tarried on their journey the people got good harvests and abundant crops, and therefore they believed that Odin and his men controlled the weather and the growing grain. Odin went with Gylfe up to the lake "Logrin" and saw that the land was good; and there he chose as his citadel the place which is called Sigtuna, founding there the same institutions as had existed in Troy, and to which the Turks were accustomed. Then he organised a council of twelve men, who were to make laws and settle disputes. From Svithiod Odin went to Norway, and there made his son Sæming king. But the ruling of Svithiod he had left to his son Yngve, from whom the race of Ynglings are descended. The Asas and their sons married the women of the land of which they had taken possession, and their descendants, who preserved the language spoken in Troy, multiplied so fast that the Trojan language displaced the old tongue and became the speech of Svithiod, Norway, Denmark, and Saxland, and thereafter also of England. The Prose Edda's first part, Gylfaginning, consists of a collection of mythological tales told to the reader in the form of a conversation between the above-named king of Sweden, Gylfe, and the Asas. Before the Asas had started on their journey to the North, it is here said Gylfe had learned that they were a wise and knowing people who had success in all their undertakings. And believing that this was a result either of the nature of these people, or of their peculiar kind of worship, he resolved to investigate the matter secretly, and therefore betook himself in the guise of an old man to Asgard. But the foreknowing Asas knew in advance that he was coming, and resolved to receive him with all sorts of sorcery, which might give him a high opinion of them. He finally came to a citadel, the roof of which was thatched with golden shields, and the hall of which was so large that he scarcely could see the whole of it. At the entrance stood a man playing with sharp tools, which he threw up in the air and caught again with his hands, and seven axes were in the air at the same time. This man asked the traveller his name. The latter answered that he was named Ganglere, that he had made a long journey over rough roads, and asked for lodgings for the night. He also asked whose the citadel was. The juggler answered that it belonged to their king, and conducted Gylfe into the hall, where many people were assembled. Some sat drinking, others amused themselves at games, and still others were practising with weapons. There were three high-seats in the hall, one above the other, and in each high-seat sat a man. In the lowest sat the king; and the juggler informed Gylfe that the king's name was Har; that the one who sat next above him was named Jafnhar; and that the one who sat on the highest throne was named Thride (_thridi_). Har asked the stranger what his errand was, and invited him to eat and drink. Gylfe answered that he first wished to know whether there was any wise man in the hall. Har replied that the stranger should not leave the hall whole unless he was victorious in a contest in wisdom. Gylfe now begins his questions, which all concern the worship of the Asas, and the three men in the high-seats give him answers. Already in the first answer it appears that the Asgard to which Gylfe thinks he has come is, in the opinion of the author, a younger Asgard, and presumably the same as the author of Heimskringla places beyond the river Tanakvisl, but there had existed an older Asgard identical with Troy in Tyrkland, where, according to Heimskringla, Odin had extensive possessions at the time when the Romans began their invasions in the East. When Gylfe with his questions had learned the most important facts in regard to the religion of Asgard, and had at length been instructed concerning the destruction and regeneration of the world, he perceived a mighty rumbling and quaking, and when he looked about him the citadel and hall had disappeared, and he stood beneath the open sky. He returned to Svithiod and related all that he had seen and heard among the Asas; but when he had gone they counselled together, and they agreed to call themselves by those names which they used in relating their stories to Gylfe. These sagas, remarks Gylfaginning, were in reality none but historical events transformed into traditions about divinities. They described events which had occurred in the older Asgard--that is to say, Troy. The basis of the stories told to Gylfe about Thor were the achievements of Hektor in Troy, and the Loke of whom Gylfe had heard was, in fact, none other than Ulixes (Ulysses), who was the foe of the Trojans, and consequently was represented as the foe of the gods. Gylfaginning is followed by another part of the Prose Edda called _Bragaroedur_ (Brage's Talk), which is presented in a similar form. On Lessö, so it is said, dwelt formerly a man by name _Ægir_. He, like Gylfe, had heard reports concerning the wisdom of the Asas, and resolved to visit them. He, like Gylfe, comes to a place where the Asas receive him with all sorts of magic arts, and conduct him into a hall which is lighted up in the evening with shining swords. There he is invited to take his seat by the side of Brage, and there were twelve high-seats in which sat men who were called Thor, Njord, Frey, &c., and women who were called Frigg, Freyja, Nanna, &c. The hall was splendidly decorated with shields. The mead passed round was exquisite, and the talkative Brage instructed the guest in the traditions concerning the Asas' art of poetry. A postscript to the treatise warns young skalds not to place confidence in the stories told to Gylfe and _Ægir_. The author of the postscript says they have value only as a key to the many metaphors which occur in the poems of the great skalds, but upon the whole they are deceptions invented by the Asas or Asiamen to make people believe that they were gods. Still, the author thinks these falsifications have an historical kernel. They are, he thinks, based on what happened in the ancient Asgard, that is, Troy. Thus, for instance, Ragnarok is originally nothing else than the siege of Troy; Thor is, as stated, Hektor; the Midgard-serpent is one of the heroes slain by Hektor; the Fenris-wolf is Pyrrhus, son of Achilles, who slew Priam (Odin); and Vidar, who survives Ragnarok, is Æneas. [Footnote 3: As much land as can be ploughed in a day.] [Footnote 4: A translation of the Younger or Prose Edda was edited by R. B. Anderson and published by S. C. Griggs & Co., Chicago, in 1881.] 8. THE TROY SAGA IN HEIMSKRINGLA AND THE PROSE EDDA (_continued_). The sources of the traditions concerning the Asiatic immigration to the North belong to the Icelandic literature, and to it alone. Saxo's _Historia Danica_, the first books of which were written toward the close of the twelfth century, presents on this topic its own peculiar view, which will be discussed later. The Icelandic accounts disagree only in unimportant details; the fundamental view is the same, and they have flown from the same fountain vein. Their contents may be summed up thus: Among the tribes who after the Babylonian confusion of tongues emigrated to various countries, there was a body of people who settled and introduced their language in Asia Minor, which in the sagas is called Tyrkland; in Greece, which in the sagas is called Macedonia; and in Crete. In Tyrkland they founded the great city which was called Troy. This city was attacked by the Greeks during the reign of the Trojan king Priam. Priam descended from Jupiter and the latter's father Saturnus, and accordingly belonged to a race which the idolaters looked upon as divine. Troy was a very large city; twelve languages were spoken there, and Priam had twelve tributary kings under him. But however powerful the Trojans were, and however bravely they defended themselves under the leadership of the son of Priam's daughter, that valiant hero Thor, still they were defeated. Troy was captured and burned by the Greeks, and Priam himself was slain. Of the surviving Trojans two parties emigrated in different directions. They seem in advance to have been well informed in regard to the quality of foreign lands; for Thor, the son of Priam's daughter, had made extensive expeditions in which he had fought giants and monsters. On his journeys he had even visited the North, and there he had met Sibil, the celebrated prophetess, and married her. One of the parties of Trojan emigrants embarked under the leadership of Æneas for Italy, and founded Rome. The other party, accompanied by Thor's son, Loride, went to Asialand, which is separated from Tyrkland by a mountain ridge, and from Europe by the river Tanais or Tanakvisl. There they founded a new city called Asgard, and there preserved the old customs and usages brought from Troy. Accordingly, there was organised in Asgard, as in Troy, a council of twelve men, who were high priests and judges. Many centuries passed without any political contact between the new Trojan settlements in Rome and Asgard, though both well remembered their Trojan origin, and the Romans formed many of their institutions after the model of the old fatherland. Meanwhile, Rome had grown to be one of the mightiest empires in the world, and began at length to send armies into Tyrkland. At that time there ruled in Asgard an exceedingly wise, prophetic king, Odin, who was skilled in the magic arts, and who was descended in the twentieth generation from the above-mentioned Thor. Odin had waged many successful wars. The severest of these wars was the one with a neighbouring people, the Vans; but this had been ended with compromise and peace. In Tyrkland, the old mother country, Odin had great possessions, which fell into the hands of the Romans. This circumstance strengthened him in his resolution to emigrate to the north of Europe. The prophetic vision with which he was endowed had told him that his descendants would long flourish there. So he set out with his many sons, and was accompanied by the twelve priests and by many people, but not by all the inhabitants of the Asia country and of Asgard. A part of the people remained at home; and among them Odin's brothers Vile and Ve. The expedition proceeded through Gardarike to Saxland; then across the Danish islands to Svithiod and Norway. Everywhere this great multitude of migrators was well received by the inhabitants. Odin's superior wisdom and his marvellous skill in sorcery, together with the fact that his progress was everywhere attended by abundant harvests, caused the peoples to look upon him as a god, and to place their thrones at his disposal. He accordingly appointed his sons as kings in Saxland, Denmark, Svithiod, and Norway. Gylfe, the king of Svithiod, submitted to his superiority and gave him a splendid country around Lake Mælar to rule over. There Odin built Sigtuna, the institutions of which were an imitation of those in Asgard and Troy. Poetry and many other arts came with Odin to the Teutonic lands, and so, too, the Trojan tongue. Like his ancestors, Saturnus and Jupiter, he was able to secure divine worship, which was extended even to his twelve priests. The religious traditions which he scattered among the people, and which were believed until the introduction of Christianity, were misrepresentations spun around the memories of Troy's historical fate and its destruction, and around the events of Asgard. 9. SAXO'S RELATION OF THE STORY OF TROY. Such is, in the main, the story which was current in Iceland in the thirteenth century, and which found its way to Scandinavia through the Prose Edda and Heimskringla, concerning the immigration of Odin and the Asas. Somewhat older than these works is _Historia Danica_, by the Danish chronicler Saxo. Sturlason, the author of Heimskringla, was a lad of eight years when Saxo began to write his history, and he (Sturlason) had certainly not begun to write history when Saxo had completed the first nine books of his work, which are based on the still-existing songs and traditions found in Denmark, and of heathen origin. Saxo writes as if he were unacquainted with Icelandic theories concerning an Asiatic immigration to the North, and he has not a word to say about Odin's reigning as king or chief anywhere in Scandinavia. This is the more remarkable, since he holds the same view as the Icelanders and the chroniclers of the Middle Ages in general in regard to the belief that the heathen myths were records of historical events, and that the heathen gods were historical persons, men changed into divinities; and our astonishment increases when we consider that he, in the heathen songs and traditions on which he based the first part of his work, frequently finds Odin's name, and consequently could not avoid presenting him in Danish history as an important character. In Saxo, as in the Icelandic works, Odin is a human being, and at the same time a sorcerer of the greatest power. Saxo and the Icelanders also agree that Odin came from the East. The only difference is that while the Icelandic hypothesis makes him rule in Asgard, Saxo locates his residence in Byzantium, on the Bosphorus; but this is not far from the ancient Troy, where the Prose Edda locates his ancestors. From Byzantium, according to Saxo, the fame of his magic arts and of the miracles he performed reached even to the north of Europe. On account of these miracles he was worshipped as a god by the peoples, and to pay him honour the kings of the North once sent to Byzantium a golden image, to which Odin by magic arts imparted the power of speech. It is the myth about Mimer's head which Saxo here relates. But the kings of the North knew him not only by report; they were also personally acquainted with him. He visited Upsala, a place which "pleased him much." Saxo, like the Heimskringla, relates that Odin was absent from his capital for a long time; and when we examine his statements on this point, we find that Saxo is here telling in his way the myth concerning the war which the Vans carried on successfully against the Asas, and concerning Odin's expulsion from the mythic Asgard, situated in heaven (_Hist. Dan._, pp. 42-44; _vid._ No. 36). Saxo also tells that Odin's son, Balder, was chosen king by the Danes "on account of his personal merits and his respect-commanding qualities." But Odin himself has never, according to Saxo, had land or authority in the North, though he was there worshipped as a god, and, as already stated, Saxo is entirely silent in regard to any immigration of an Asiatic people to Scandinavia under the leadership of Odin. A comparison between him and the Icelanders will show at once that, although both parties are Euhemerists, and make Odin a man changed into a god, Saxo confines himself more faithfully to the popular myths, and seeks as far as possible to turn them into history; while the Icelanders, on the other hand, begin with the learned theory in regard to the original kinship of the northern races with the Trojans and Romans, and around this theory as a nucleus they weave about the same myths told as history as Saxo tells. 10. THE OLDER PERIODS OF THE TROY SAGA. How did the belief that Troy was the original home of the Teutons arise? Does it rest on native traditions? Has it been inspired by sagas and traditions current among the Teutons themselves, and containing as kernel "a faint reminiscence of an immigration from Asia," or is it a thought entirely foreign to the heathen Teutonic world, introduced in Christian times by Latin scholars? These questions shall now be considered. Already in the seventh century--that is to say, more than five hundred years before Heimskringla and the Prose Edda were written--a Teutonic people were told by a chronicler that they were of the same blood as the Romans, that they had like the Romans emigrated from Troy, and that they had the same share as the Romans in the glorious deeds of the Trojan heroes. This people were the Franks. Their oldest chronicler, Gregorius, bishop of Tours, who, about one hundred years before that time--that is to say, in the sixth century--wrote their history in ten books, does not say a word about it. He, too, desires to give an account of the original home of the Franks (_Hist. Franc._, ii. 9), and locates it quite a distance from the regions around the lower Rhine, where they first appear in the light of history; but still not farther away than to Pannonia. Of the coming of the Franks from Troy neither Gregorius knows anything nor the older authors, Sulpicius Alexander and others, whose works he studied to find information in regard to the early history of the Franks. But in the middle of the following century, about 650, an unknown author, who for reasons unknown, is called Fredegar, wrote a chronicle, which is in part a reproduction of Gregorius' historical work, but also contains various other things in regard to the early history of the Franks, and among these the statement that they emigrated from Troy. He even gives us the sources from which he got this information. His sources are, according to his own statement, not Frankish, not popular songs or traditions, but two Latin authors--the Church father Hieronymus and the poet Virgil. If we, then, go to these sources in order to compare Fredegar's statement with his authority, we find that Hieronymus once names the Franks in passing, but never refers to their origin from Troy, and that Virgil does not even mention Franks. Nevertheless, the reference to Virgil is the key to the riddle, as we shall show below. What Fredegar tells about the emigration of the Franks is this: A Frankish king, by the name Priam, ruled in Troy at the time when this city was conquered by the cunning of Ulysses. Then the Franks emigrated, and were afterwards ruled by a king named Friga. Under his reign a dispute arose between them, and they divided themselves into two parties, one of which settled in Macedonia, while the other, called after Friga's name Frigians (Phrygians), migrated through Asia and settled there. There they were again divided, and one part of them migrated under king Francio into Europe, travelled across this continent, and settled, with their women and children, near the Rhine, where they began building a city which they called Troy, and intended to organise in the manner of the old Troy, but the city was not completed. The other group chose a king by name Turchot, and were called after him Turks. But those who settled on the Rhine called themselves Franks after their king Francio, and later chose a king named Theudemer, who was descended from Priam, Friga, and Francio. Thus Fredegar's chronicle. About seventy years later another Frankish chronicle saw the light of day--the _Gesta regum Francorum_. In it we learn more of the emigration of the Franks from Troy. _Gesta regum Francorum_ (i) tells the following story: In Asia lies the city of the Trojans called Ilium, where king Æneas formerly ruled. The Trojans were a strong and brave people, who waged war against all their neighbours. But then the kings of the Greeks united and brought a large army against Æneas, king of the Trojans. There were great battles and much bloodshed, and the greater part of the Trojans fell. Æneas fled with those surviving into the city of Ilium, which the Greeks besieged and conquered after ten years. The Trojans who escaped divided themselves into two parties. The one under king Æneas went to Italy, where he hoped to receive auxiliary troops. Other distinguished Trojans became the leaders of the other party, which numbered 12,000 men. They embarked in ships and came to the banks of the river Tanais. They sailed farther and came within the borders of Pannonia, near the Moeotian marshes (_navigantes pervenerunt intra terminos Pannoniarum juxta Moeotidas paludes_), where they founded a city, which they called Sicambria, and here they remained many years and became a mighty people. Then came a time when the Roman emperor Valentinianus got into war with that wicked people called Alamanni (also Alani). He led a great army against them. The Alamanni were defeated, and fled to the Moeotian marshes. Then said the emperor, "If anyone dares to enter those marshes and drive away this wicked people, I shall for ten years make him free from all burdens." When the Trojans heard this they went, accompanied by a Roman army, into the marshes, attacked the Alamanni, and hewed them down with their swords. Then the Trojans received from the emperor Valentinianus the name _Franks_, which, the chronicle adds, in the Attic tongue means the _savage_ (_feri_), "for the Trojans had a defiant and indomitable character." For ten years afterwards the Trojans or Franks lived undisturbed by Roman tax-collectors; but after that the Roman emperor demanded that they should pay tribute. This they refused, and slew the tax-collectors sent to them. Then the emperor collected a large army under the command of Aristarcus, and strengthened it with auxiliary forces from many lands, and attacked the Franks, who were defeated by the superior force, lost their leader Priam, and had to take flight. They now proceeded under their leaders Markomir, Priam's son, and Sunno, son of Antenor, away from Sicambria through Germany to the Rhine, and located there. Thus this chronicle. About fifty years after its appearance--that is, in the time of Charlemagne, and, to be more accurate, about the year 787--the well-known Longobardian historian Paulus Diaconus wrote a history of the bishops of Metz. Among these bishops was the Frank Arnulf, from whom Charlemagne was descended in the fifth generation. Arnulf had two sons, one of whom was named Ansgisel, in a contracted form Ansgis. When Paulus speaks of this he remarks that it is thought that the name Ansgis comes from the father of Æneas, Anchises, who went from Troy to Italy; and he adds that according to evidence of older date the Franks were believed to be descendants of the Trojans. These evidences of older date we have considered above--Fredegar's _Chronicle_ and _Gesta regum Francorum_. Meanwhile this shows that the belief that the Franks were of Trojan descent kept spreading with the lapse of time. It hardly needs to be added that there is no good foundation for the derivation of Ansgisel or Ansgis from Anchises. Ansgisel is a genuine Teutonic name. (See No. 123 concerning Ansgisel, the emigration chief of the Teutonic myth.) We now pass to the second half of the tenth century, and there we find the Saxon chronicler Widukind. When he is to tell the story of the origin of the Saxon people, he presents two conflicting accounts. The one is from a Saxon source, from old native traditions, which we shall discuss later; the other is from a scholastic source, and claims that the Saxons are of Macedonian descent. According to this latter account they were a remnant of the Macedonian army of Alexander the Great, which, as Widukind had learned, after Alexander's early death, had spread over the whole earth. The Macedonians were at that time regarded as Hellenicised Trojans. In this connection I call the reader's attention to Fredegar's _Chronicle_ referred to above, which tells that the Trojans, in the time of king Friga, disagreed among themselves, and that a part of them emigrated and settled in Macedonia. In this manner the Saxons, like the Franks, could claim a Trojan descent; and as England to a great extent was peopled by Saxon conquerors, the same honour was of course claimed by her people. In evidence of this, and to show that it was believed in England during the centuries immediately following Widukind's time, that the Saxons and Angles were of Trojan blood, I will simply refer here to a pseudo-Sibylline manuscript found in Oxford and written in very poor Latin. It was examined by the French scholar Alexandre (_Excursus ad Sibyllina_, p. 298), and in it Britain is said to be an island inhabited by the survivors of the Trojans (_insulam reliquiis Trojanorum inhabitatam_). In another British pseudo-Sibylline document it is stated that the Sibylla was a daughter of king Priam of Troy; and an effort has been made to add weight and dignity to this document by incorporating it with the works of the well known Church historian Beda, and thus date it at the beginning of the eighth century, but the manuscript itself is a compilation from the time of Frederick Barbarossa (_Excurs. ad Sib._, p. 289). Other pseudo-Sibylline documents in Latin give accounts of a Sibylla who lived and prophesied in Troy. I make special mention of this fact, for the reason that in the Foreword of the Prose Edda it is similarly stated that Thor, the son of Priam's daughter, was married to Sibil (Sibylla). Thus when Franks and Saxons had been made into Trojans--the former into full-blooded Trojans and the latter into Hellenicised Trojans--it could not take long before their northern kinsmen received the same descent as a heritage. In the very nature of things the beginning must be made by those Northmen who became the conquerors and settlers of Normandy in the midst of "Trojan" Franks. About a hundred years after their settlement there they produced a chronicler, Dudo, deacon of St. Quentin. I have already shown that the Macedonians were regarded as Hellenicised Trojans. Together with the Hellenicising they had obtained the name Danai, a term applied to all Greeks. In his Norman Chronicle, which goes down to the year 996, Dudo relates (_De moribus et gestis_, &c., lib. i.) that the Norman men regarded themselves as Danai, for Danes (the Scandinavians in general) and Dania was regarded as the same race name. Together with the Normans the Scandinavians also, from whom they were descended accordingly had to be made into Trojans. And thus the matter was understood by Dudo's readers; and when Robert Wace wrote his rhymed chronicle, _Roman de Rou_, about the northern conquerors of Normandy, and wanted to give an account of their origin, he could say, on the basis of a common tradition: "When the walls of Troy in ashes were laid, And the Greeks exceedingly glad were made, Then fled from flames on the Trojan strand The race that settled old Denmark's land; And in honour of the old Trojan reigns, The people called themselves the Danes." I have now traced the scholastic tradition about the descent of the Teutonic races from Troy all the way from the chronicle where we first find this tradition recorded, down to the time when Are, Iceland's first historian, lived, and when the Icelander, Sæmund, is said to have studied in Paris, the same century in which Sturlason, Heimskringla's author, developed into manhood. Saxo rejected the theory current among the scholars of his time, that the northern races were Danai-Trojans. He knew that Dudo in St. Quentin was the authority upon which this belief was chiefly based, and he gives his Danes an entirely different origin, _quanquam Dudo, rerum Aquitanicarum scriptor, Danos a Danais ortos nuncupatosque recenseat_. The Icelanders on the other hand, accepted and continued to develop the belief, resting on the authority of five hundred years, concerning Troy as the starting-point for the Teutonic race; and in Iceland the theory is worked out and systematised as we have already seen, and is made to fit in a frame of the history of the world. The accounts given in Heimskringla and the Prose Edda in regard to the emigration from Asgard form the natural denouement of an era which had existed for centuries, and in which the events of antiquity were able to group themselves around a common centre. All peoples and families of chiefs were located around the Mediterranean Sea, and every event and every hero was connected in some way or other with Troy. In fact, a great part of the lands subject to the Roman sceptre were in ancient literature in some way connected with the Trojan war and its consequences: Macedonia and Epirus through the Trojan emigrant Helenus; Illyria and Venetia through the Trojan emigrant Antenor; Rhetia and Vindelicia through the Amazons, allies of the Trojans, from whom the inhabitants of these provinces were said to be descended (_Servius ad Virg._, i. 248); Etruria through Dardanus, who was said to have emigrated from there to Troy; Latium and Campania through the Æneids; Sicily, the very home of the Ænean traditions, through the relation between the royal families of Troy and Sicily; Sardinia (see Sallust); Gaul (see Lucanus and Ammianus Marcellinus); Carthage through the visit of Æneas to Dido; and of course all of Asia Minor. This was not all. According to the lost Argive History by Anaxikrates, Scamandrius, son of Hektor and Andromache, came with emigrants to Scythia and settled on the banks of the Tanais; and scarcely had Germany become known to the Romans, before it, too, became drawn into the cycle of Trojan stories, at least so far as to make this country visited by Ulysses on his many journeys and adventures (Tac., _Germ._). Every educated Greek and Roman person's fancy was filled from his earliest school-days with Troy, and traces of Dardanians and Danaians were found everywhere, just as the English in our time think they have found traces of the ten lost tribes of Israel both in the old and in the new world. In the same degree as Christianity, Church learning, and Latin manuscripts were spread among the Teutonic tribes, there were disseminated among them knowledge of and an interest in the great Trojan stories. The native stories telling of Teutonic gods and heroes received terrible shocks from Christianity, but were rescued in another form on the lips of the people, and continued in their new guise to command their attention and devotion. In the class of Latin scholars which developed among the Christianised Teutons, the new stories learned from Latin literature, telling of Ilium, of the conflicts between Trojans and Greeks, of migrations, of the founding of colonies on foreign shores and the creating of new empires, were the things which especially stimulated their curiosity and captivated their fancy. The Latin literature which was to a greater or less extent accessible to the Teutonic priests, or to priests labouring among the Teutons, furnished abundant materials in regard to Troy both in classical and pseudo-classical authors. We need only call attention to Virgil and his commentator Servius, which became a mine of learning for the whole middle age, and among pseudo-classical works to Dares Phrygius' _Historia de Excidio Trojæ_ (which was believed to have been written by a Trojan and translated by Cornelius Nepos!), to Dictys Cretensis' _Ephemeris belli Trojani_ (the original of which was said to have been Phoenician, and found in Dictys' alleged grave after an earthquake in the time of Nero!), and to "Pindari Thebani," _Epitome Iliados Homeri_. Before the story of the Trojan descent of the Franks had been created, the Teuton Jordanes, active as a writer in the middle of the sixth century, had already found a place for his Gothic fellow-countrymen in the events of the great Trojan epic. Not that he made the Goths the descendants either of the Greeks or Trojans. On the contrary, he maintained the Goths' own traditions in regard to their descent and their original home, a matter which I shall discuss later. But according to Orosius, who is Jordanes' authority, the Goths were the same as the _Getæ_, and when the identity of these was accepted, it was easy for Jordanes to connect the history of the Goths with the Homeric stories. A Gothic chief marries Priam's sister and fights with Achilles and Ulysses (Jord., c. 9), and Ilium, having scarcely recovered from the war with Agamemnon, is destroyed a second time by Goths (c. 20). 11. THE ORIGIN OF THE STORY IN REGARD TO THE TROJAN DESCENT OF THE FRANKS. We must now return to the Frankish chronicles, to Fredegar's and _Gesta regum Francorum_, where the theory of the descent from Troy of a Teutonic tribe is presented for the first time, and thus renews the agitation handed down from antiquity, which attempted to make all ancient history a system of events radiating from Troy as their centre. I believe I am able to point out the sources of all the statements made in these chronicles in reference to this subject, and also to find the very kernel out of which the illusion regarding the Trojan birth of the Franks grew. As above stated, Fredegar admits that Virgil is the earliest authority for the claim that the Franks are descended from Troy. Fredegar's predecessor, Gregorius of Tours, was ignorant of it, and, as already shown, the word Franks does not occur anywhere in Virgil. The discovery that he nevertheless gave information about the Franks and their origin must therefore have been made or known in the time intervening between Gregorius' chronicle and Fredegar's. Which, then, can be the passage in Virgil's poems in which the discoverer succeeded in finding the proof that the Franks were Trojans? A careful examination of all the circumstances connected with the subject leads to the conclusion that the passage is in _Æneis_, lib. i., 242ff.: "Antenor potuit, mediis elapsus Achivis, Illyricos penetrare sinus atque intima tutus Regna Liburnorum, et fontem superare Timavi: Unde per ora novem vasto cum murmere montis It mare proruptum, et pelago premit arva sonanti. Hic tamen ille urbem Patavi sedesque locavit Teucrorum." "Antenor having escaped from amidst the Greeks, could with safety penetrate the Illyrian Gulf and the inmost realms of Liburnia, and overpass the springs of Timavus, whence, through nine months, with loud echoing from the mountain, it bursts away, a sea impetuous, and sweeps the fields with a roaring deluge. Yet there he built the city of Padua and established a Trojan settlement." The nearest proof at hand, that this is really the passage which was interpreted as referring to the ancient history of the Franks, is based on the following circumstances: Gregorius of Tours had found in the history of Sulpicius Alexander accounts of violent conflicts, on the west bank of the Rhine, between the Romans and Franks, the latter led by the chiefs Markomir and Sunno (Greg., _Hist._, ii. 9). From Gregorius, _Gesta regum Francorum_ has taken both these names. According to _Gesta_, the Franks, under the command of Markomir and Sunno, emigrate from Pannonia, near the Moeotian marshes, and settle on the Rhine. The supposition that they had lived in Pannonia before their coming to the Rhine, the author of _Gesta_ had learned from Gregorius. In _Gesta_, Markomir is made a son of the Trojan Priam, and Sunno _a son of the Trojan Antenor_. From this point of view, Virgil's account of Antenor's and his Trojans' journey to Europe from fallen Troy refers to the emigration of the father of the Frankish chief Sunno at the head of a tribe of Franks. And as _Gesta's_ predecessor, the so-called Fredegar, appeals to Virgil as his authority for this Frankish emigration, and as the wanderings of Antenor are nowhere else mentioned by the Roman poet, there can be no doubt that the lines above quoted were the very ones which were regarded as the Virgilian evidence in regard to a Frankish emigration from Troy. But how did it come to be regarded as an evidence? Virgil says that Antenor, when he had escaped the Achivians, succeeded in penetrating _Illyricos sinus_, the very heart of Illyria. The name Illyricum served to designate all the regions inhabited by kindred tribes extending from the Alps to the mouth of the Danube and from the Danube to the Adriatic Sea and Hæmus (cp. _Marquardt Röm. Staatsverwalt_, 295). To Illyricum belonged the Roman provinces Dalmatia, Pannonia, and Moesia, and the Pannonians were an Illyrian tribe. In Pannonia Gregorius of Tours had located the Franks in early times. Thus Antenor, with his Trojans, on their westward journey, traverses the same regions from which, according to Gregorius, the Franks had set out for the Rhine. Virgil also says that Antenor extended his journeys to the Liburnian kingdoms (_regna Liburnorum_). From Servius' commentary on this passage, the middle age knew that the Liburnian kingdoms were Rhetia and Vindelicia (_Rhetia Vindelici ipsi sunt Liburni_). Rhetia and Vindelicia separate Pannonia from the Rhine. Antenor, accordingly, takes the same route toward the West as the Franks must have taken if they came from Pannonia to the Rhine. Virgil then brings Antenor to a river, which, it is true, is called Timavus, but which is described as a mighty stream, coming thundering out of a mountainous region, where it has its source, carrying with it a mass of water which the poet compares with a sea, forming before it reaches the sea a delta, the plains of which are deluged by the billows, and finally emptying itself by many outlets into the ocean. Virgil says _nine_; but Servius interprets this as meaning _many_: "_finitus est numerus pro infinito_." We must pardon the Frankish scribes for taking this river to be the Rhine; for if a water-course is to be looked for in Europe west of the land of the Liburnians, which answers to the Virgilian description, then this must be the Rhine, on whose banks the ancestors of the Franks for the first time appear in history. Again, Virgil tells us that Antenor settled near this river and founded a colony--Patavium--on the low plains of the delta. The Salian Franks acquired possession of the low and flat regions around the outlets of the Rhine (_Insula Batavorum_) about the year 287, and also of the land to the south as far as to the Scheldt; and after protracted wars the Romans had to leave them in control of this region. By the very occupation of this low country, its conquerors might properly be called Batavian Franks. It is only necessary to call attention to the similarity of the words _Patavi_ and _Batavi_, in order to show at the same time that the conclusion could scarcely be avoided that Virgil had reference to the immigration of the Franks when he spoke of the wanderings of Antenor, the more so, since from time out of date the pronunciation of the initials _B_ and _P_ have been interchanged by the Germans. In the conquered territory the Franks founded a city (Ammian. Marc., xvii. 2, 5). Thus it appears that the Franks were supposed to have migrated to the Rhine under the leadership of Antenor. The first Frankish chiefs recorded, after their appearance there, are Markomir and Sunno. From this the conclusion was drawn that Sunno was Antenor's son; and as Markomir ought to be the son of some celebrated Trojan chief, he was made the son of Priam. Thus we have explained Fredegar's statement that Virgil is his authority for the Trojan descent of these Franks. This seemed to be established for all time. The wars fought around the Moeotian marshes between the emperor Valentinianus, the Alamanni, and the Franks, of which _Gesta_ speaks, are not wholly inventions of the fancy. The historical kernel in this confused semi-mythical narrative is that Valentinianus really did fight with the Alamanni, and that the Franks for some time were allies of the Romans, and came into conflict with those same Alamanni (Ammian. Marc., libs, xxx., xxxi.). But the scene of these battles was not the Moeotian marshes and Pannonia, as _Gesta_ supposes, but the regions on the Rhine. The unhistorical statement of Gregorius that the Franks came from Pannonia is based only on the fact that Frankish warriors for some time formed a _Sicambra cohors_, which about the year 26 was incorporated with the Roman troops stationed in Pannonia and Thracia. The cohort is believed to have remained in Hungary and formed a colony, where Buda now is situated. _Gesta_ makes Pannonia extend from the Moeotian marshes to Tanais, since according to Gregorius and earlier chroniclers, these waters were the boundary between Europe and Asia, and since Asia was regarded as a synonym of the Trojan empire. Virgil had called the Trojan kingdom Asia: _Postquam res Asiæ Priamique evertere gentem_, &c., (_Æneid_, iii. 1). Thus we have exhibited the seed out of which the fable about the Trojan descent of the Franks grew into a tree spreading its branches over all Teutonic Europe, in the same manner as the earlier fable, which was at least developed if not born in Sicily, in regard to the Trojan descent of the Romans had grown into a tree overshadowing all the lands around the Mediterranean, and extending one of its branches across Gaul to Britain and Ireland. The first son of the Britons, "Brutus," was, according to Galfred, great-grandson of Æneas, and migrated from Alba Longa to Ireland. So far as the Gauls are concerned, the incorporation of Cis-Alpine Gaul with the Roman Empire, and the Romanising of the Gauls dwelling there, had at an early day made way for the belief that they had the same origin and were of the same blood as the Romans. Consequently they too were Trojans. This view, encouraged by Roman politics, gradually found its way to the Gauls on the other side of the Rhine; and even before Cæsar's time the Roman senate had in its letters to the Æduans, often called them the "brothers and kinsmen" of the Romans (_fratres consanguineique_--Cæsar, _De Bell. Gall._, i. 33, 2). Of the Avernians Lucanus sings (i. 427): _Averni ... ausi Latio se fingere fratres, sanguine ab Iliaco populi_. Thus we see that when the Franks, having made themselves masters of the Romanised Gaul, claimed a Trojan descent, then this was the repetition of a history of which Gaul for many centuries previously had been the scene. After the Frankish conquest the population of Gaul consisted for the second time of two nationalities unlike in language and customs, and now as before it was a political measure of no slight importance to bring these two nationalities as closely together as possible by the belief in a common descent. The Roman Gauls and the Franks were represented as having been one people in the time of the Trojan war. After the fall of the common fatherland they were divided into two separate tribes, with separate destinies, until they refound each other in the west of Europe, to dwell together again in Gaul. This explains how it came to pass that, when they thought they had found evidence of this view in Virgil, this was at once accepted, and was so eagerly adopted that the older traditions in regard to the origin and migrations of the Franks were thrust aside and consigned to oblivion. History repeats itself a third time when the Normans conquered and became masters of that part of Gaul which after them is called Normandy. Dudo, their chronicler, says that they regarded themselves as being _ex Antenore progenitos_, descendants of Antenor. This is sufficient proof that they had borrowed from the Franks the tradition in regard to their Trojan descent. 12. WHY ODIN WAS GIVEN ANTENOR'S PLACE AS LEADER OF THE TROJAN EMIGRATION. So long as the Franks were the only ones of the Teutons who claimed Trojan descent, it was sufficient that the Teutonic-Trojan immigration had the father of a Frankish chief as its leader. But in the same degree as the belief in a Trojan descent spread among the other Teutonic tribes and assumed the character of a statement equally important to all the Teutonic tribes, the idea would naturally present itself that the leader of the great immigration was a person of general Teutonic importance. There was no lack of names to choose from. Most conspicuous was the mythical Teutonic patriarch, whom Tacitus speaks of and calls _Mannus_ (_Germania_, 2), the grandson of the goddess Jord (Earth). There can be no doubt that he still was remembered by this (Mann) or some other name (for nearly all Teutonic mythic persons have several names), since he reappears in the beginning of the fourteenth century in Heinrich Frauenlob as Mennor, the patriarch of the German people and German tongue.[5] But Mannus had to yield to another universal Teutonic mythic character, Odin, and for reasons which we shall now present. As Christianity was gradually introduced among the Teutonic peoples, the question confronted them, what manner of beings those gods had been in whom they and their ancestors so long had believed. Their Christian teachers had two answers, and both were easily reconcilable. The common answer, and that usually given to the converted masses, was that the gods of their ancestors were demons, evil spirits, who ensnared men in superstition in order to become worshipped as divine beings. The other answer, which was better calculated to please the noble-born Teutonic families, who thought themselves descended from the gods, was that these divinities were originally human persons--kings, chiefs, legislators, who, endowed with higher wisdom and secret knowledge, made use of these to make people believe that they were gods, and worship them as such. Both answers could, as stated, easily be reconciled with each other, for it was evident that when these proud and deceitful rulers died, their unhappy spirits joined the ranks of evil demons, and as demons they continued to deceive the people, in order to maintain through all ages a worship hostile to the true religion. Both sides of this view we find current among the Teutonic races through the whole middle age. The one which particularly presents the old gods as evil demons is found in popular traditions from this epoch. The other, which presents the old gods as mortals, as chiefs and lawmakers with magic power, is more commonly reflected in the Teutonic chronicles, and was regarded among the scholars as the scientific view. Thus it followed of necessity that Odin, the chief of the Teutonic gods, and from whom their royal houses were fond of tracing their descent, also must have been a wise king of antiquity and skilled in the magic arts, and information was of course sought with the greatest interest in regard to the place where he had reigned, and in regard to his origin. There were two sources of investigation in reference to this matter. One source was the treasure of mythic songs and traditions of their own race. But what might be history in these seemed to the students so involved in superstition and fancy, that not much information seemed obtainable from them. But there was also another source, which in regard to historical trustworthiness seemed incomparably better, and that was the Latin literature to be found in the libraries of the convents. During centuries when the Teutons had employed no other art than poetry for preserving the memory of the life and deeds of their ancestors, the Romans, as we know, had had parchment and papyrus to write on, and had kept systematic annals extending centuries back. Consequently this source _must_ be more reliable. But what had this source--what had the Roman annals or the Roman literature in general to tell about Odin? Absolutely nothing, it would seem, inasmuch as the name Odin, or Wodan, does not occur in any of the authors of the ancient literature. But this was only an apparent obstacle. The ancient king of our race, Odin, they said, has had many names--one name among one people, and another among another, and there can be no doubt that he is the same person as the Romans called Mercury and the Greeks Hermes. The evidence of the correctness of identifying Odin with Mercury and Hermes the scholars might have found in Tacitus' work on Germany, where it is stated in the ninth chapter that the chief god of the Germans is the same as Mercury among the Romans. But Tacitus was almost unknown in the convents and schools of this period of the middle age. They could not use this proof, but they had another and completely compensating evidence of the assertion. Originally the Romans did not divide time into weeks of seven days. Instead, they had weeks of eight days, and the farmer worked the seven days and went on the eighth to the market. But the week of seven days had been in existence for a very long time among certain Semitic peoples, and already in the time of the Roman republic many Jews lived in Rome and in Italy. Through them the week of seven days became generally known. The Jewish custom of observing the sacredness of the Sabbath, the first day of the week, by abstaining from all labour, could not fail to be noticed by the strangers among whom they dwelt. The Jews had, however, no special name for each day of the week. But the Oriental, Egyptian, and Greek astrologers and astronomers, who in large numbers sought their fortunes in Rome, did more than the Jews to introduce the week of seven days among all classes of the metropolis, and the astrologers had special names for each of the seven days of the week. Saturday was the planet's and the planet-god Saturnus' day; Sunday, the sun's; Monday, the moon's; Tuesday, Mars'; Wednesday, Mercury's; Thursday, Jupiter's; Friday, Venus' day. Already in the beginning of the empire these names of the days were quite common in Italy. The astrological almanacs, which were circulated in the name of the Egyptian Petosiris among all families who had the means to buy them contributed much to bring this about. From Italy both the taste for astrology and the adoption of the week of seven days, with the above-mentioned names, spread not only into Spain and Gaul, but also into those parts of Germany that were incorporated with the Roman Empire, Germania superior and inferior, where the Romanising of the people, with Cologne (_Civitas Ubiorum_) as the centre, made great progress. Teutons who had served as officers and soldiers in the Roman armies, and were familiar with the everyday customs of the Romans, were to be found in various parts of the independent Teutonic territory, and it is therefore not strange if the week of seven days, with a separate name given to each day, was known and in use more or less extensively throughout Teutondom even before Christianity had taken root east of the Rhine, and long before Rome itself was converted to Christianity. But from this introduction of the seven-day week did not follow the adoption of the Roman names of the days. The Teutons translated the names into their own language, and in so doing chose among their own divinities those which most nearly corresponded to the Roman. The translation of the names is made with a discrimination which seems to show that it was made in the Teutonic border country, governed by the Romans, by people who were as familiar with the Roman gods as with their own. In that border land there must have been persons of Teutonic birth who officiated as priests before Roman altars. The days of the sun and moon were permitted to retain their names. They were called Sunday and Monday. The day of the war-god Mars became the day of the war-god Tyr, Tuesday. The day of Mercury became Odin's day, Wednesday. The day of the lightning-armed Jupiter became the day of the thundering Thor, Thursday. The day of the goddess of love Venus became that of the goddess of love Freyja, Friday. Saturnus, who in astrology is a watery star, and has his house in the sign of the waterman, was among the Romans, and before them among the Greeks and Chaldæans, the lord of the seventh day. Among the North Teutons, or at least, among a part of them, his day got its name from laug,[6] which means a bath, and it is worthy of notice in this connection that the author of the Prose Edda's Foreword identifies Saturnus with the sea-god Njord. Here the Latin scholars had what seemed to them a complete proof that the Odin of which their stories of the past had so much to tell was--and was so recognised by their heathen ancestors--the same historical person as the Romans worshipped by the name Mercury. At first sight it may seem strange that Mercury and Odin were regarded as identical. We are wont to conceive Hermes (Mercury) as the Greek sculptors represented him, the ideal of beauty and elastic youth, while we imagine Odin as having a contemplative, mysterious look. And while Odin in the Teutonic mythology is the father and ruler of the gods, Mercury in the Roman has, of course, as the son of Zeus, a high rank, but his dignity does not exempt him from being the very busy messenger of the gods of Olympus. But neither Greeks nor Romans nor Teutons attached much importance to such circumstances in the specimens we have of their comparative mythology. The Romans knew that the same god among the same people might be represented differently, and that the local traditions also sometimes differed in regard to the kinship and rank of a divinity. They therefore paid more attention to what Tacitus calls _vis numinis_--that is, the significance of the divinity as a symbol of nature, or its relation to the affairs of the community and to human culture. Mercury was the symbol of wisdom and intelligence; so was Odin. Mercury was the god of eloquence; Odin likewise. Mercury had introduced poetry and song among men; Odin also. Mercury had taught men the art of writing; Odin had given them the runes. Mercury did not hesitate to apply cunning when it was needed to secure him possession of something that he desired; nor was Odin particularly scrupulous in regard to the means. Mercury, with wings on his hat and on his heels, flew over the world, and often appeared as a traveller among men; Odin, the ruler of the wind, did the same. Mercury was the god of martial games, and still he was not really the war-god; Odin also was the chief of martial games and combats, but the war-god's occupation he had left to Tyr. In all important respects Mercury and Odin, therefore, resembled each other. To the scholars this must have been an additional proof that this, in their eyes, historical chief, whom the Romans called Mercury and the Teutons Odin, had been one and the same human person, who had lived in a distant past, and had alike induced Greeks, Romans, and Goths to worship him as a god. To get additional and more reliable information in regard to this Odin-Mercury than what the Teutonic heathen traditions could impart, it was only necessary to study and interpret correctly what Roman history had to say about Mercury. As is known, some mysterious documents called the Sibylline books were preserved in Jupiter's temple, on the Capitoline Hill, in Rome. The Roman State was the possessor, and kept the strictest watch over them, so that their contents remained a secret to all excepting those whose position entitled them to read them. A college of priests, men in high standing, were appointed to guard them and to consult them when circumstances demanded it. The common opinion that the Roman State consulted them for information in regard to the future is incorrect. They were consulted only to find out by what ceremonies of penance and propitiation the wrath of the higher powers might be averted at times when Rome was in trouble, or when prodigies of one kind or another had excited the people and caused fears of impending misfortune. Then the Sibylline books were produced by the properly-appointed persons, and in some line or passage they found which divinity was angry and ought to be propitiated. This done, they published their interpretation of the passage, but did not make known the words or phrases of the passage, for the text of the Sibylline books must not be known to the public. The books were written in the Greek tongue. The story telling how these books came into the possession of the Roman State through a woman who sold them to Tarquin--according to one version Tarquin the Elder, according to another Tarquin the Younger--is found in Roman authors who were well known and read throughout the whole middle age. The woman was a Sibylla, according to Varro the Erythreian, so called from a Greek city in Asia Minor; according to Virgil the Cumæan, a prophetess from Cumæ in southern Italy. Both versions could easily be harmonised, for Cumæ was a Greek colony from Asia Minor; and we read in Servius' commentaries on Virgil's poems that the Erythreian Sibylla was by many regarded as identical with the Cumæan. From Asia Minor she was supposed to have come to Cumæ. In western Europe the people of the middle age claimed that there were twelve Sibyllas: the Persian, the Libyan, the Delphian, the Cimmerinean, the Erythreian, the Samian, the Cumæan, the Hellespontian or Trojan, the Phrygian and Tiburtinian, and also the Sibylla Europa and the Sibylla Agrippa. Authorities for the first ten of these were the Church father Lactantius and the West Gothic historian Isodorus of Sevilla. The last two, Europa and Agrippa, were simply added in order to make the number of Sibyllas equal to that of the prophets and the apostles. But the scholars of the middle ages also knew from Servius that the Cumæan Sibylla was, in fact, the same as the Erythreian; and from the Church father Lactantius, who was extensively read in the middle ages, they also learned that the Erythreian was identical with the Trojan. Thanks to Lactantius, they also thought they could determine precisely where the Trojan Sibylla was born. Her birthplace was the town Marpessus, near the Trojan Mount Ida. From the same Church father they learned that the real contents of the Sibylline books had consisted of narrations concerning Trojan events, of lives of the Trojan kings, &c., and also of prophecies concerning the fall of Troy and other coming events, and that the poet Homer in his works was a mere plagiator, who had found a copy of the books of the Sibylla, had recast and falsified it, and published it in his own name in the form of heroic poems concerning Troy. This seemed to establish the fact that those books, which the woman from Cumæ had sold to the Roman king Tarquin, were written by a Sibylla who was born in the Trojan country, and that the books which Trojan bought off her contained accounts and prophecies--accounts especially in regard to the Trojan chiefs and heroes afterwards glorified in Homer's poems. As the Romans came from Troy, these chiefs and heroes were their ancestors, and in this capacity they were entitled to the worship which the Romans considered due to the souls of their forefathers. From a Christian standpoint this was of course idolatry; and as the Sibyllas were believed to have made predictions even in regard to Christ, it might seem improper for them to promote in this manner the cause of idolatry. But Lactantius gave a satisfactory explanation of this matter. The Sibylla, he said, had certainly prophesied truthfully in regard to Christ; but this she did by divine compulsion and in moments of divine inspiration. By birth and in her sympathies she was a heathen, and when under the spell of her genuine inspirations, she proclaimed heathen and idolatrous doctrines. In our critical century all this may seem like mere fancies. But careful examinations have shown that an historical kernel is not wanting in these representations. And the historical fact which lies back of all this is that the Sibylline books which were preserved in Rome actually were written in Asia Minor in the ancient Trojan territory; or, in other words, that the oldest known collection of so-called Sibylline oracles was made in Marpessus, near the Trojan mountain Ida, in the time of Solon. From Marpessus the collection came to the neighbouring city Gergis, and was preserved in the Apollo temple there; from Gergis it came to Cumæ, and from Cumæ to Rome in the time of the kings. How it came there is not known. The story about the Cumæan woman and Tarquin is an invention, and occurs in various forms. It is also demonstrably an invention that the Sibylline books in Rome contained accounts of the heroes in the Trojan war. On the other hand, it is absolutely certain that they referred to gods and to a worship which in the main were unknown to the Romans before the Sibylline books were introduced there, and that to these books must chiefly be attributed the remarkable change which took place in Roman mythology during the republican centuries. The Roman mythology, which from the beginning had but few gods of clear identity with the Greek, was especially during this epoch enlarged, and received gods and goddesses who were worshipped in Greece and in the Greek and Hellenised part of Asia Minor where the Sibylline books originated. The way this happened was that whenever the Romans in trouble or distress consulted the Sibylline books they received the answer that this or that Greek-Asiatic god or goddess was angry and must be propitiated. In connection with the propitiation ceremonies the god or goddess was received in the Roman pantheon, and sooner or later a temple was built to him; and thus it did not take long before the Romans appropriated the myths that were current in Greece concerning these borrowed divinities. This explains why the Roman mythology, which in its oldest sources is so original and so unlike the Greek, in the golden period of Roman literature comes to us in an almost wholly Greek attire; this explains why Roman and Greek mythology at that time might be regarded as almost identical. Nevertheless the Romans were able even in the later period of antiquity to discriminate between their native gods and those introduced by the Sibylline books. The former were worshipped according to a Roman ritual, the latter according to a Greek. To the latter belonged Apollo, Artemis, Latona, Ceres, Hermes, Mercury, Proserpina, Cybile, Venus, and Esculapius; and that the Sibylline books were a Greek-Trojan work, whose original home was Asia Minor and the Trojan territory, was well known to the Romans. When the temple of the Capitoline Jupiter was burned down eighty-four years before Christ, the Sibylline books were lost. But the State could not spare them. A new collection had to be made, and this was mainly done by gathering the oracles which could be found one by one in those places which the Trojan or Erythreian Sibylla had visited, that is to say, in Asia Minor, especially in Erythræ, and in Ilium, the ancient Troy. So far as Hermes-Mercury is concerned, the Roman annals inform us that he got his first lectisternium in the year 399 before Christ by order from the Sibylline books. Lectisternium was a sacrifice: the image of the god was laid on a bed with a pillow under the left arm, and beside the image was placed a table and a meal, which as a sacrifice was offered to the god. About one hundreds years before that time, Hermes-Mercury had received his first temple in Rome. Hermes-Mercury seemed, therefore, like Apollo, Venus, Esculapius, and others, to have been a god originally unknown to the Romans, the worship of whom the Trojan Sibylla had recommended to the Romans. This was known to the scholars of the middle age. Now, we must bear in mind that it was as certain to them as an undoubted scientific fact that the gods were originally men, chiefs, and heroes, and that the deified chief whom the Romans worshipped as Mercury, and the Greeks as Hermes, was the same as the Teutons called Odin, and from whom distinguished Teutonic families traced their descent. We must also remember that the Sibylla who was supposed to have recommended the Romans to worship the old king Odin-Mercurius was believed to have been a Trojan woman, and that her books were thought to have contained stories about Troy's heroes, in addition to various prophecies, and so this manner of reasoning led to the conclusion that the gods who were introduced in Rome through the Sibylline books were celebrated Trojans who had lived and fought at a time preceding the fall of Troy. Another inevitable and logical conclusion was that Odin had been a Trojan chief, and when he appears in Teutonic mythology as the chief of gods, it seemed most probable that he was identical with the Trojan king Priam, and that Priam was identical with Hermes-Mercury. Now, as the ancestors of the Romans were supposed to have emigrated from Troy to Italy under the leadership of Æneas, it was necessary to assume that the Romans were not the only Trojan emigrants, for, since the Teutons worshipped Odin-Priamus-Hermes as their chief god, and since a number of Teutonic families traced their descent from this Odin, the Teutons, too, must have emigrated from Troy. But, inasmuch as the Teutonic dialects differed greatly from the Roman language, the Trojan Romans and the Trojan Teutons must have been separated a very long time. They must have parted company immediately after the fall of Troy and gone in different directions, and as the Romans had taken a southern course on their way to Europe, the Teutons must have taken a northern. It was also apparent to the scholars that the Romans had landed in Europe many centuries earlier than the Teutons, for Rome had been founded already in 754 or 753 before Christ, but of the Teutons not a word is to be found in the annals before the period immediately preceding the birth of Christ. Consequently, the Teutons must have made a halt somewhere on their journey to the North. This halt must have been of several centuries' duration, and, of course, like the Romans, they must have founded a city, and from it ruled a territory in commemoration of their fallen city Troy. In that age very little was known of Asia, where this Teutonic-Trojan colony was supposed to have been situated, but, both from Orosius and, later, from Gregorius of Tours, it was known that our world is divided into three large divisions--Asia, Europe, and Africa--and that Asia and Europe are divided by a river called Tanais. And having learned from Gregorius of Tours that the Teutonic Franks were said to have lived in Pannonia in ancient times, and having likewise learned that the Moeotian marshes lie east of Pannonia, and that the Tanais empties into these marshes, they had the course marked out by which the Teutons had come to Europe--that is, by way of Tanais and the Moeotian marshes. Not knowing anything at all of importance in regard to Asia beyond Tanais, it was natural that they should locate the colony of the Teutonic Trojans on the banks of this river. I think I have now pointed out the chief threads of the web of that scholastic romance woven out of Latin convent learning concerning a Teutonic emigration from Troy and Asia, a web which extends from Fredegar's Frankish chronicle, through the following chronicles of the middle age, down into Heimskringla and the Foreword of the Younger Edda. According to the Frankish chronicle, _Gesta regum Francorum_, the emigration of the Franks from the Trojan colony near the Tanais was thought to have occurred very late; that is, in the time of Valentinianus I., or in other words, between 364 and 375 after Christ. The Icelandic authors very well knew that Teutonic tribes had been far into Europe long before that time, and the reigns they had constructed in regard to the North indicated that they must have emigrated from the Tanais colony long before the Franks. As the Roman attack was the cause of the Frankish emigration, it seemed probable that these world-conquerors had also caused the earlier emigration from Tanais; and as Pompey's expedition to Asia was the most celebrated of all the expeditions made by the Romans in the East--Pompey even entered Jerusalem and visited its Temple--it was found most convenient to let the Asas emigrate in the time of Pompey, but they left a remnant of Teutons near the Tanais, under the rule of Odin's younger brothers Vile and Ve, in order that this colony might continue to exist until the emigration of the Franks took place. Finally, it should be mentioned that the Trojan migration saga, as born and developed in antiquity, does not indicate by a single word that Europe was peopled later than Asia, or that it received its population from Asia. The immigration of the Trojans to Europe was looked upon as a return to their original homes. Dardanus, the founder of Troy, was regarded as the leader of an emigration from Etruria to Asia (_Æneid_, iii. 165 ff., Serv. Comm.). As a rule the European peoples regarded themselves in antiquity as autochthones if they did not look upon themselves as immigrants from regions within Europe to the territories they inhabited in historic times. [Footnote 5: "Mennor der erste was genant, Dem diutische rede got tet bekant." Later on in this work we shall discuss the traditions of the Mannussaga found in Scandinavia and Germany.] [Footnote 6: Saturday is in the North called Löverdag, Lördag--that is, Laugardag=bathday.--TR.] 13. THE MATERIALS OF THE ICELANDIC TROY SAGA. We trust the facts presented above have convinced the reader that the saga concerning the immigration of Odin and the Asas to Europe is throughout a product of the convent learning of the middle ages. That it was born and developed independently of the traditions of the Teutonic heathendom shall be made still more apparent by the additional proofs that are accessible in regard to this subject. It may, however, be of some interest to first dwell on some of the details in the Heimskringla and in the Younger Edda and point out their source. It should be borne in mind that, according to the Younger Edda, it was Zoroaster who first thought of building the Tower of Babel, and that in this undertaking he was assisted by seventy-two master-masons. Zoroaster is, as is well known, another form for the Bactrian or Iranian name Zarathustra, the name of the prophet and religious reformer who is praised on every page of Avesta's holy books, and who in a prehistoric age founded the religion which far down in our own era has been confessed by the Persians, and is still confessed by their descendants in India, and is marked by a most serious and moral view of the world. In the Persian and in the classical literatures this Zoroaster has naught to do with Babel, still less with the Tower of Babel. But already in the first century of Christianity, if not earlier, traditions became current which made Zoroaster the founder of all sorcery, magic, and astrology (Plinius, _Hist. Nat._, xxx. 2); and as astrology particularly was supposed to have had its centre and base in Babylon, it was natural to assume that Babel had been the scene of Zoroaster's activity. The Greek-Roman chronicler Ammianus Marcellinus, who lived in the fourth century after Christ, still knows that Zoroaster was a man from Bactria, not from Babylon, but he already has formed the opinion that Zoroaster had gotten much of his wisdom from the writings of the Babylonians. In the Church fathers the saga is developed in this direction, and from the Church fathers it got into the Latin chronicles. The Christian historian Orosius also knows that Zoroaster was from Bactria, but he already connects Zoroaster with the history of Nineveh and Babylon, and makes Ninus make war against him and conquer him. Orosius speaks of him as the inventor of sorcery and the magic arts. Gregorius of Tours told in his time that Zoroaster was identical with Noah's grandson, with Chus, the son of Ham, that this Chus went to the Persians, and that the Persians called him Zoroaster, a name supposed to mean "the living star." Gregorius also relates that this Zoroaster was the first person who taught men the arts of sorcery and led them astray into idolatry, and as he knew the art of making stars and fire fall from heaven, men paid him divine worship. At that time, Gregorius continues, men desired to build a tower which should reach to heaven. But God confused their tongues and brought their project to naught. Nimrod, who was supposed to have built Babel, was, according to Gregorius, a son of Zoroaster. If we compare this with what the Foreword of the Younger Edda tells, then we find that there, too, Zoroaster is a descendant of Noah's son Cham and the founder of all idolatry, and that he himself was worshipped as a god. It is evident that the author of the Foreword gathered these statements from some source related to Gregorius' history. Of the 72 master-masons who were said to have helped Zoroaster in building the tower, and from whom the 72 languages of the world originated, Gregorius has nothing to say, but the saga about these builders was current everywhere during the middle ages. In the earlier Anglo-Saxon literature there is a very naïve little work, very characteristic of its age, called "A Dialogue between Saturn and Solomon," in which Saturnus tests Solomon's knowledge and puts to him all sorts of biblical questions, which Solomon answers partly from the Bible and partly from sagas connected with the Bible. Among other things Saturnus informs Solomon that Adam was created out of various elements, weighing altogether eight pounds, and that when created he was just 116 inches long. Solomon tells that Shem, Noah's son, had thirty sons, Cham thirty, and Japhet twelve--making 72 grandsons of Noah; and as there can be no doubt that it was the author's opinion that all the languages of the world, thought to be 72, originated at the Tower of Babel, and were spread into the world by these 72 grandsons of Noah, we here find the key to who those 72 master-masons were who, according to the Edda, assisted Zoroaster in building the tower. They were accordingly his brothers. Luther's contemporary, Henricus Cornelius Agrippa, who, in his work _De occulta Philosophia_, gathered numerous data in regard to the superstition of all ages, has a chapter on the power and sacred meaning of various numbers, and says in speaking of the number 72: "The number 72 corresponds to the 72 languages, the 72 elders in the synagogue, the 72 commentators of the Old Testament, Christ's 72 disciples, God's 72 names, the 72 angels who govern the 72 divisions of the Zodiac, each division of which corresponds to one of the 72 languages." This illustrates sufficiently how widespread was the tradition in regard to the 72 master-masons during the centuries of the middle ages. Even Nestor's Russian chronicle knows the tradition. It continued to enjoy a certain authority in the seventeenth century. An edition of Sulpicius Severus' _Opera Omnia_, printed in 1647, still considers it necessary to point out that a certain commentator had doubted whether the number 72 was entirely exact. Among the doubters we find Rudbeck in his _Atlantica_. What the Edda tells about king Saturnus and his son, king Jupiter, is found in a general way, partly in the Church-father Lactantius, partly in Virgil's commentator Servius, who was known and read during the middle age. As the Edda claims that Saturnus knew the art of producing gold from the molten iron, and that no other than gold coins existed in his time, this must be considered an interpretation of the statement made in Latin sources that Saturnus' was the golden age--_aurea secula, aurea regna_. Among the Romans Saturnus was the guardian of treasures, and the treasury of the Romans was in the temple of Saturnus in the Forum. The genealogy found in the Edda, according to which the Trojan king Priam, supposed to be the oldest and the proper Odin, was descended in the sixth generation from Jupiter, is taken from Latin chronicles. Herikon of the Edda, grandson of Jupiter, is the Roman-Greek Erichtonius; the Edda's Lamedon is Laomedon. Then the Edda has the difficult task of continuing the genealogy through the dark centuries between the burning of Troy and the younger Odin's immigration to Europe. Here the Latin sources naturally fail it entirely, and it is obliged to seek other aid. It first considers the native sources. There it finds that Thor is also called Lorride, Indride, and Vingthor, and that he had two sons, Mode and Magne; but it also finds a genealogy made about the twelfth century, in which these different names of Thor are applied to different persons, so that Lorride is the son of Thor, Indride the son of Lorride, Vingthor the son of Indride, &c. This mode of making genealogies was current in Iceland in the twelfth century, and before that time among the Christian Anglo-Saxons. Thereupon the Edda continues its genealogy with the names Bedvig, Atra, Itrman, Heremod, Skjaldun or Skold, Bjæf, Jat, Gudolf, Fjarlaf or Fridleif, and finally Odin, that is to say, the younger Odin, who had adopted this name after his deified progenitor Hermes-Priam. This whole genealogy is taken from a Saxon source, and can be found in the Anglo-Saxon chronicle name for name. From Odin the genealogy divides itself into two branches, one from Odin's son, Veggdegg, and another from Odin's son, Beldegg or Balder. The one branch has the names Veggdegg, Vitrgils, Ritta, Heingest. These names are found arranged into a genealogy by the English Church historian Beda, by the English chronicler Nennius, and in the Anglo-Saxon chronicle. From one of these three sources the Edda has taken them, and the only difference is that the Edda must have made a slip in one place and changed the name Vitta to Ritta. The other branch, which begins with Balder or Beldegg, embraces eight names, which are found in precisely the same order in the Anglo-Saxon chronicle. In regard to Balder, the Edda says that Odin appointed him king in Westphalia. This statement is based on the tradition that Balder was known among the heathen Germans and Scandinavians by the name Fal (_Falr_, see No. 92), with its variation Fol. In an age when it was believed that Sweden got its name from a king Sven, Götaland from a king Göt, Danmark from a king Dan, Angeln from a king Angul, the Franks from a duke Francio, it might be expected that Falen (East- and West-Phalia) had been named after a king Fal. That this name was recognised as belonging to Balder not only in Germany, but also in Scandinavia, I shall give further proof of in No. 92. As already stated, Thor was, according to the Edda, married to Sibil, that is to say, the Sibylla, and the Edda adds that this Sibil is called Sif in the North. In the Teutonic mythology Thor's wife is the goddess Sif. It has already been mentioned that it was believed in the middle age that the Cumæan or Erythreian Sibylla originally came from Troy, and it is not, therefore, strange that the author of the Younger Edda, who speaks of the Trojan descent of Odin and his people, should marry Thor to the most famous of Trojan women. Still, this marriage is not invented by the author. The statement has an older foundation, and taking all circumstances into consideration, may be traced to Germany, where Sif, in the days of heathendom, was as well known as Thor. To the northern form Sif corresponds the Gothic form _Sibba_, the Old English _Sib_, the Old Saxon _Sibbia_, and the Old High German _Sibba_, and Sibil, Sibilla, was thought to be still another form of the same name. The belief, based on the assumed fact that Thor's wife Sif was identical with the Sibylla, explains a phenomenon not hitherto understood in the saga-world and church sculpture of the middle age, and on this point I now have a few remarks to make. In the Norse mythology several goddesses or dises have, as we know, feather-guises, with which they fly through space. Freyja has a falcon-guise; several dises have swan-guises (Volundarkv. Helreid. Brynh., 6). Among these swan-maids was Sif (see No. 123). Sif could therefore present herself now in human form, and again in the guise of the most beautiful swimming bird, the swan. A legend, the origin of which may be traced to Italy, tells that when the queen of Saba visited king Solomon, she was in one place to cross a brook. A tree or beam was thrown across as a bridge. The wise queen stopped, and would not let her foot touch the beam. She preferred to wade across the brook, and when she was asked the reason for this, she answered that in a prophetic vision she had seen that the time would come when this tree would be made into a cross on which the Saviour of the world was to suffer. The legend came also to Germany, but here it appears with the addition that the queen of Saba was rewarded for this piety, and was freed while wading across the brook from a bad blemish. One of her feet, so says the German addition, was of human form, but the other like the foot of a water-bird up to the moment when she took it out of the brook. Church sculpture sometimes in the middle age represented the queen of Saba as a woman well formed, except that she had one foot like that of a water-bird. How the Germans came to represent her with this blemish, foreign to the Italian legend, has not heretofore been explained, although the influence of the Greek-Roman mythology on the legends of the Romance peoples, and that of the Teutonic mythology on the Teutonic legends, has been traced in numerous instances. During the middle ages the queen of Saba was called queen Seba, on account of the Latin translation of the Bible, where she is styled _Regina Seba_, and Seba was thought to be her name. The name suggested her identity, on the one hand, with Sibba, Sif, whose swan-guise lived in the traditions; on the other hand, with Sibilla, and the latter particularly, since queen Seba had proved herself to be in possession of prophetic inspiration, the chief characteristic of the Sibylla. Seba, Sibba, and Sibilla were in the popular fancy blended into one. This explains how queen Seba among the Germans, but not among the Italians, got the blemish which reminds us of the swan-guise of Thor's wife Sibba. And having come to the conclusion that Thor was a Trojan, his wife Sif also ought to be a Trojan woman. And as it was known that the Sibylla was Trojan, and that queen Seba was a Sibylla, this blending was almost inevitable. The Latin scholars found further evidence of the correctness of this identity in a statement drawn originally from Greek sources to the effect that Jupiter had had a Sibylla, by name Lamia, as mistress, and had begotten a daughter with her by name Herophile, who was endowed with her mother's gift of prophecy. As we know, Mercury corresponds to Odin, and Jupiter to Thor, in the names of the days of the week. It thus follows that it was Thor who stood in this relation to the Sibylla. The character of the anthropomorphosed Odin, who is lawgiver and king, as represented in Heimskringla and the Prose Edda, is only in part based on native northern traditions concerning the heathen god Odin, the ruler of heaven. This younger Odin, constructed by Christian authors, has received his chief features from documents found in the convent libraries. When the Prose Edda tells that the chief who proceeded from Asgard to Saxland and Scandinavia did not really bear the name Odin, but had assumed this name after the elder and deified Odin-Priam of Troy, to make people believe that he was a god, then this was no new idea. Virgil's commentator, Servius, remarks that ancient kings very frequently assumed names which by right belonged only to the gods, and he blames Virgil for making Saturnus come from the heavenly Olympus to found a golden age in Italy. This Saturnus, says Servius, was not a god from above, but a mortal king from Crete who had taken the god Saturnus' name. The manner in which Saturnus, on his arrival in Italy and the vicinity of Rome, was received by Janus, the king ruling there, reminds us of the manner in which Odin, on his arrival in Svithiod, was received by king Gylfe. Janus is unpretentious enough to leave a portion of his territory and his royal power to Saturnus, and Gylfe makes the same concessions to Odin. Saturnus thereupon introduces a higher culture among the people of Latium, and Odin brings a higher culture to the inhabitants of Scandinavia. The Church father Lactantius, like Servius, speaks of kings who tried to appropriate the name and worship of the gods, and condemns them as foes of truth and violators of the doctrines of the true God. In regard to one of them, the Persian Mithra, who, in the middle age, was confounded with Zoroaster, Tertulianus relates that he (Mithra), who knew in advance that Christianity would come, resolved to anticipate the true faith by introducing some of its customs. Thus, for example, Mithra, according to Tertulianus, introduced the custom of blessing by laying the hands on the head or the brow of those to whom he wished to insure prosperity, and he also adopted among his mysteries a practice resembling the breaking of the bread in the Eucharist. So far as the blessing by the laying on of hands is concerned, Mithra especially used it in giving courage to the men whom he sent out as soldiers to war. With these words of Tertulianus it is interesting to compare the following passage in regard to Odin in the Heimskringla: "It was his custom when he sent his men to war, or on some errand, to lay his hands on their heads and give them _bjannak_." Bjannak is not a Norse word, not even Teutonic, and there has been uncertainty in regard to its significance. The well-known Icelandic philologist, Vigfusson, has, as I believe, given the correct definition of the word, having referred it to the Scottish word _bannock_ and the Gaelic _banagh_, which means bread. Presumably the author of Heimskringla has chosen this foreign word in order not to wound the religious feelings of readers with a native term, for if _bjannak_ really means bread, and if the author of Heimskringla desired in this way to indicate that Odin, by the aid of sacred usages, practised in the Christian cult--that is, by the laying on of hands and the breaking of bread--had given his warriors assurance of victory, then it lay near at hand to modify, by the aid of a foreign word for bread, the impression of the disagreeable similarity between the heathen and Christian usages. But at the same time the complete harmony between what Tertulianus tells about Mithra and Heimskringla about Odin is manifest. What Heimskringla tells about Odin, that his spirit could leave the body and go to far-off regions, and that his body lay in the meantime as if asleep or dead, is told, in the middle age, of Zoroaster and of Hermes-Mercurius. New Platonian works had told much about an originally Egyptian god, whom they associated with the Greek Hermes and called Hermes-Trismegistus--that is, the thrice greatest and highest. The name Hermes-Trismegistus became known through Latin authors even to the scholars in the middle age convents, and, as a matter of course, those who believed that Odin was identical with Hermes also regarded him as identical with Hermes-Trismegistus. When Gylfe sought Odin and his men he came to a citadel which, according to the statement of the gatekeeper, belonged to king Odin, but when he had entered the hall he there saw not _one_ throne, but three thrones, the one above the other, and upon each of the thrones a chief. When Gylfe asked the names of these chiefs, he received an answer that indicates that none of the three alone was Odin, but that Odin the sorcerer, who was able to turn men's vision, was present in them all. One of the three, says the doorkeeper, is named _Hár_, the second, _Jafnhár_, and the one on the highest throne is _Thridi_. It seems to me probable that what gave rise to this story was the surname "the thrice-highest," which in the middle age was ascribed to Mercury, and, consequently, was regarded as one of the epithets which Odin assumed. The names _Third_ and _High_ seem to point to the phrase "the thrice-highest." It was accordingly taken for granted that Odin had appropriated this name in order to anticipate Christianity with a sort of idea of trinity, just as Zoroaster, his progenitor, had, under the name Mithra, in advance imitated the Christian usages. The rest that Heimskringla and the Younger Edda tell about the king Odin who immigrated to Europe is mainly taken from the stories embodied in the mythological songs and traditions in regard to the god Odin who ruled in the celestial Valhal. Here belongs what is told about the war of Odin and the Asiatics with the Vans. In the myth, this war was waged around the walls built by a giant around the heavenly Asgard (Völusp., 25). The citadel in which Gylfe finds the triple Odin is decorated in harmony with the Valhal described by the heathen skalds. The men who drink and present exercises in arms are the einherjes of the myth. Gylfe himself is taken from the mythology, but, to all appearances, he did not play the part of a king, but of a giant, dwelling in Jotunheim. The Fornmanna sagas make him a descendant of _Fornjótr_, who, with his sons, _Hlér_, _Logi_, and _Kári_, and his descendants, _Jökull_, _Snær_, _Geitir_, &c., doubtless belong to Jotunheim. When Odin and the Asas had been made immigrants to the North, it was quite natural that the giants were made a historical people, and as such were regarded as the aborigines of the North--an hypothesis which, in connection with the fable about the Asiatic emigration, was accepted for centuries, and still has its defenders. The story that Odin, when he perceived death drawing near, marked himself with the point of a spear, has its origin in the words which a heathen song lays on Odin's lips: "I know that I hung on the wind-tossed tree nine nights, by my spear wounded, given to Odin, myself given to myself" (Havam., 138). 14. THE RESULT OF THE FOREGOING INVESTIGATIONS. Herewith I close the examination of the sagas in regard to the Trojan descent of the Teutons, and in regard to the immigration of Odin and his Asiamen to Saxland, Denmark, and the Scandinavian peninsula. I have pointed out the seed from which the sagas grew, the soil in which the seed could be developed, and how it gradually grew to be what we find these sagas to be in Heimskringla and the Younger Edda. I have shown that they do not belong to the Teutonic heathendom, but that they were born, as it were of necessity, in a Christian time, among Teutons converted to Christianity, and that they are throughout the work of the Latin scholars in the middle age. The assumption that they concealed within themselves a tradition preserved for centuries among the Teutons themselves of an ancient emigration from Asia is altogether improbable, and is completely refuted by the genuine migration sagas of Teutonic origin which were rescued from oblivion, and of which I shall give an account below. In my opinion, these old and genuine Teutonic migration sagas have, from a purely historical standpoint, but little more claim than the fables of the Christian age in regard to Odin's emigration from Asia to be looked upon as containing a kernel of reality. This must in each case be carefully considered. But that of which they furnish evidence is, how entirely foreign to the Teutonic heathens was the idea of an immigration from Troy or Asia, and besides, they are of great interest on account of their connection with what the myths have to say in regard to the oldest dwelling-places, history, and diffusion of the human race, or at least of the Teutonic part of it. As a rule, all the old migration sagas, no matter from what race they spring, should be treated with the utmost caution. Large portions of the earth's surface may have been appropriated by various races, not by the sudden influx of large masses, but by a gradual increase of the population and consequent moving of their boundaries, and there need not have been very remarkable or memorable events in connection therewith. Such an expansion of the territory may take place, and be so little remarked by the people living around the centre, that they actually do not need to be aware of it, and much less do they need to remember it in sagas and songs. That a few new settlers year by year extend the boundaries of a race has no influence on the imagination, and it can continue generation after generation, and produce as its final result an immense expansion, and yet the separate generations may scarcely have been conscious of the change in progress. A people's spreading over new territory may be compared with the movement of the hour-hand on a clock. It is not perceptible to the eye, and is only realized by continued observation. In many instances, however, immigrations have taken place in large masses, who have left their old abodes to seek new homes. Such undertakings are of themselves worthy of being remembered, and they are attended by results that easily cling to the memory. But even in such cases it is surprising how soon the real historical events either are utterly forgotten or blended with fables, which gradually, since they appeal more to the fancy, monopolise the interest. The conquest and settlement of England by Saxon and Scandinavian tribes--and that, too, in a time when the art of writing was known--is a most remarkable instance of this. Hengist, under whose command the Saxons, according to their own immigration saga, are said to have planted their feet on British soil, is a saga-figure taken from mythology, and there we shall find him later on (see No. 123). No wonder, then, if we discover in mythology those heroes under whose leadership the Longobardians and Goths believed they had emigrated from their original Teutonic homes. B. REMINISCENCES IN THE POPULAR TRADITIONS OF THE MIDDLE AGES OF THE HEATHEN MIGRATION SAGA. 15. THE LONGOBARDIAN MIGRATION SAGA. What there still remains of migration sagas from the middle ages, taken from the saga-treasure of the Teutons themselves, is, alas! but little. Among the Franks the stream of national traditions early dried up, at least among the class possessing Latin culture. Among the Longobardians it fared better, and among them Christianity was introduced later. Within the ken of Roman history they appear in the first century after Christ, when Tiberius invaded their boundaries. Tacitus speaks of them with admiration as a small people whose paucity, he says, was balanced by their unity and warlike virtues, which rendered them secure in the midst of the numerous and mighty tribes around them. The Longobardians dwelt at that time in the most northern part of Germany, on the lower Elbe, probably in Luneburg. Five hundred years later we find them as rulers in Pannonia, whence they invade Italy. They had then been converted to Christianity. A hundred years after they had become settled in North Italy, one of their Latin scholars wrote a little treatise, _De Origine Longobardorum_, which begins in the following manner: "In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ! Here begins the oldest history of our Longobardian people. There is an island called Skadan, far in the north. There dwelt many peoples. Among them was a little people called the Vinnilians, and among the Vinnilians was a woman by name Gambara. Gambara had two sons: one by name Ibor, the other named Ajo. She and these sons were the rulers among the Vinnilians. Then it came to pass that the Vandals, with their dukes Ambri and Assi, turned against the Vinnilians, and said to them: 'Pay ye tribute unto us. If ye will not, then arm yourselves for war!' Then made answer Ibor and Ajo and their mother Gambara: 'It is better for us to arm ourselves for war than to pay tribute to the Vandals'. When Ambri and Assi, the dukes of the Vandals, heard this, they addressed themselves to Odin (Godan) with a prayer that he should grant them victory. Odin answered and said: 'Those whom I first discover at the rising of the sun, to them I shall give victory'. But at the same time Ibor and Ajo, the chiefs of the Vinnilians, and their mother Gambara, addressed themselves to Frigg (Frea), Odin's wife, beseeching her to assist them. Then Frigg gave the advice that the Vinnilians should set out at the rising of the sun, and that the women should accompany their husbands and arrange their hair so that it should hang like a beard under their chins. When the sky cleared and the sun was about to rise, Frigg, Odin's wife, went to the couch where her husband was sleeping and directed his face to the east (where the Vinnilians stood), and then she waked him. And as he looked up he saw the Vinnilians, and observed the hair hanging down from the faces of their women. And then said he: 'What long-beards are they?' Then said Frigg to Odin: 'My lord, as you now have named them, you must also give them victory!' And he gave them victory, so that they, in accordance with his resolve, defended themselves well, and got the upper hand. From that day the Vinnilians were called Longobardians--that is to say, long-beards. Then the Longobardians left their country and came to Golaida, and thereupon they occupied Aldonus, Anthaib, Bainaib, and Burgundaib." In the days of Charlemagne the Longobardians got a historian by name Paulus Diaconus, a monk in the convent Monte Cassino, and he was himself a Longobardian by birth. Of the earliest history of his people he relates the following: The Vinnilians or Longobardians, who ruled successfully in Italy, are of Teutonic descent, and came originally from the island Scandinavia. Then he says that he has talked with persons who had been in Scandinavia, and from their reports he gives some facts, from which it is evident that his informants had reference to Scania with its extensive coast of lowlands and shallow water. Then he continues: "When the population on this island had increased beyond the ability of the island to support them, they were divided into three parts, and it was determined by lot which part should emigrate from the native land and seek new homes. The part whose destiny it became to leave their native land chose as their leaders the brothers Ibor and Ajo, who were in the bloom of manhood and were distinguished above the rest. Then they bade farewell to their friends and to their country, and went to seek a land in which they might settle. The mother of these two leaders was called Gambara, who was distinguished among her people for her keen understanding and shrewd advice, and great reliance was placed on her prudence in difficult circumstances." Paulus makes a digression to discuss many remarkable things to be seen in Scandinavia: the light summer nights and the long winter nights, a maelstrom which in its vortex swallows vessels and sometimes throws them up again, an animal resembling a deer hunted by the neighbours of the Scandinavians, the Scritobinians (the Skee[7] Finns), and a cave in a rock where seven men in Roman clothes have slept for centuries (see Nos. 79-81, and No. 94). Then he relates that the Vinnilians left Scandinavia and came to a country called Scoringia, and there was fought the aforesaid battle, in which, thanks to Frigg's help, the Vinnilians conquered the Vandals, who demanded tribute from them. The story is then told how this occurred, and how the Vinnilians got the name Longobardians in a manner corresponding with the source already quoted, with the one addition, that it was Odin's custom when he awoke to look out of the window, which was open, to the east toward the rising sun. Paulus Diaconus finds this Longobardian folk-saga ludicrous, not in itself, but because Odin was, in the first place, he says, a man, not a god. In the second place, Odin did not live among the Teutons, but among the Greeks, for he is the same as the one called by the Romans Mercury. In the third place, Odin-Mercury did not live at the time when the Longobardians emigrated from Scandinavia, but much earlier. According to Paulus, there were only five generations between the emigration of the Longobardians and the time of Odoacer. Thus we find in Paulus Diaconus the ideas in regard to Odin-Mercury which I have already called attention to. Paulus thereupon relates the adventures which happened to the Longobardians after the battle with the Vandals. I shall refer to these adventures later on. They belong to the Teutonic mythology, and reappear in mythic sources (see No. 112), but in a more original form, and as events which took place in the beginning of time in a conflict between the Asas and Vans on the one hand, and lower beings on the other hand; lower, indeed, but unavoidable in connection with the well-being of nature and man. This conflict resulted in a terrible winter and consequent famine throughout the North. In this mythological description we shall find Ajo and Ibor, under whose leadership the Longobardians emigrated, and Hengist, under whom the Saxons landed in Britain. It is proper to show what form the story about the Longobardian emigration had assumed toward the close of the twelfth century in the writings of the Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus. The emigration took place, he says, at a time when a Danish king, by name Snö, ruled, and when there occurred a terrible famine. First, those starving had resolved to kill all the aged and all children, but this awful resolve was not carried out, thanks to a good and wise woman, by name Gambaruc, who advised that a part of the people should emigrate. This was done under the leadership of her sons Aggo and Ebbo. The emigrants came first to Blekingia (Blekinge), then they sailed past Moringia (Möre) and came to Gutland, where they had a contest with the Vandals, and by the aid of the goddess Frigg they won the victory, and got the name Longobardians. From Gutland they sailed to Rugen, and thence to the German continent, and thus after many adventures they at length became masters of a large part of Italy. In regard to this account it must be remarked that although it contains many details not found in Paulus Diaconus, still it is the same narrative that has come to Saxo's knowledge. This Saxo also admits, and appeals to the testimony of Paulus Diaconus. Paulus' Gambara is Saxo's Gambaruc; Ajo and Ibor are Aggo and Ebbo. But the Longobardian monk is not Saxo's only source, and the brothers Aggo and Ebbo, as we shall show, were known to him from purely northern sources, though not as leaders of the Longobardians, but as mythic characters, who are actors in the great winter which Saxo speaks of. The Longobardian emigration saga--as we find it recorded in the seventh century, and then again in the time of Charlemagne--contains unmistakable internal evidence of having been taken from the people's own traditions. Proof of this is already the circumstance, that although the Longobardians had been Christians for nearly 200 years when the little book _De Origine Longobardorum_ appeared, still the long-banished divinities, Odin and Frigg, reappear and take part in the events, not as men, but as divine beings, and in a manner thoroughly corresponding with the stories recorded in the North concerning the relations between Odin and his wife. For although this relation was a good and tender one, judging from expressions in the heathen poems of the North (Völusp., 51; Vafthr., 1-4), and although the queen of heaven, Frigg, seems to have been a good mother in the belief of the Teutons, this does not hinder her from being represented as a wily person, with a will of her own which she knows how to carry out. Even a Norse story tells how Frigg resolves to protect a person whom Odin is not able to help; how she and he have different favourites among men, and vie with each other in bringing greater luck to their favourites. The story is found in the prose introduction to the poem "Grimnismàl," an introduction which in more than one respect reminds us of the Longobardian emigration saga. In both it is mentioned how Odin from his dwelling looks out upon the world and observes what is going on. Odin has a favourite by name Geirrod. Frigg, on the other hand, protects Geirrod's brother Agnar. The man and wife find fault with each other's protégés. Frigg remarks about Geirrod, that he is a prince, "stingy with food, so that he lets his guests starve if they are many." And the story goes on to say that Geirrod, at the secret command of Odin, had pushed the boat in which Agnar was sitting away from shore, and that the boat had gone to sea with Agnar and had not returned. The story looks like a parable founded on the Longobardian saga, or like one grown in a Christian time out of the same root as the Longobardian story. Geirrod is in reality the name of a giant, and the giant is in the myth a being who brings hail and frost. He dwells in the uttermost North, beyond the mythical Gandvik (Thorsdrapa, 2), and as a mythical winter symbol he corresponds to king Snö in Saxo. His "stinginess of food when too many guests come" seems to point to lack of food caused by the unfavourable weather, which necessitated emigrations, when the country became over-populated. Agnar, abandoned to the waves of the sea, is protected, like the Longobardians crossing the sea, by Frigg, and his very name, Agnar, reminds us of the names Aggo, Acho, and Agio, by which Ajo, one of the leaders of the Longobardians, is known. The prose introduction has no original connection with _Grimnismàl_ itself, and in the form in which we now have it, it belongs to a Christian age, and is apparently from an author belonging to the same school as those who regarded the giants as the original inhabitants of Scandinavia, and turned winter giants like Jökull, Snær, &c., into historical kings of Norway. The absolutely positive result of the Longobardian narratives written by Longobardian historians is that the Teutonic race to which they belonged considered themselves sprung, not from Troy or Asia, but from an island, situated in the ocean, which washes the northern shores of the Teutonic continent, that is to say, of Germany. [Footnote 7: The snow-skate, used so extensively in the north of Europe, is called _Ski_ in the Norse, and I have taken the liberty of introducing this word here and spelling it phonetically--_skee_, pl. _skees_. The words snow-shoes, snow-skates, hardly describe sufficiently these skees used by the Finns, Norsemen, and Icelanders. Compare the English word _skid_, the drag applied to a coach-wheel.--_Tr._] 16. THE SAXON AND SWABIAN MIGRATION SAGA. From the Longobardians I now pass to the great Teutonic group of peoples comprised in the term the _Saxons_. Their historian, Widukind, who wrote his chronicle in the tenth century, begins by telling what he has learned about the origin of the Saxons. Here, he says, different opinions are opposed to each other. According to one opinion held by those who knew the Greeks and Romans, the Saxons are descended from the remnants of Alexander the Great's Macedonian army; according to the other, which is based on native traditions, the Saxons are descended from Danes and Northmen. Widukind so far takes his position between these opinions that he considers it certain that the Saxons had come in ships to the country they inhabited on the lower Elbe and the North Sea, and that they landed in Hadolaun, that is to say, in the district Hadeln, near the mouth of the Elbe, which, we may say in passing, still is distinguished for its remarkably vigorous population, consisting of peasants whose ancestors throughout the middle ages preserved the communal liberty in successful conflict with the feudal nobility. Widukind's statement that the Saxons crossed the sea to Hadeln is found in an older Saxon chronicle, written about 860, with the addition that the leader of the Saxons in their emigration was a chief by name Hadugoto. A Swabian chronicle, which claims that the Swabians also came from the North and experienced about the same adventures as the Saxons when they came to their new home, gives from popular traditions additional details in regard to the migration and the voyage. According to this account, the emigration was caused by a famine which visited the Northland situated on the other side of the sea, because the inhabitants were heathens who annually sacrificed twelve Christians to their gods. At the time when the famine came there ruled a king Rudolph over that region in the Northland whence the people emigrated. He called a convention of all the most noble men in the land, and there it was decided that, in order to put an end to the famine, the fathers of families who had several sons should slay them all except the one they loved most. Thanks to a young man, by name Ditwin, who was himself included in this dreadful resolution, a new convention was called, and the above resolution was rescinded, and instead, it was decided to procure ships, and that all they who, according to the former resolution, were doomed to die, should seek new homes beyond the sea. Accompanied by their female friends, they embarked, and they had not sailed far before they were attacked by a violent storm, which carried them to a Danish harbour near a place, says the author, which is called Slesvik. Here they went ashore, and to put an end to all discussion in regard to a return to the old dear fatherland, they hewed their ships into pieces. Then they wandered through the country which lay before them, and, together with much other booty, they gathered 20,000 horses, so that a large number of the men were able to ride on horseback. The rest followed the riders on foot. Armed with weapons, they proceeded in this manner through the country ruled by the Danes, and they came to the river Alba (Elbe), which they crossed; after which they scattered themselves along the coast. This Swabian narrative, which seems to be copied from the Saxon, tells, like the latter, that the Thuringians were rulers in the land to which the immigrants came, and that bloody battles had to be fought before they got possession of it. Widukind's account attempts to give the Saxons a legal right, at least to the landing-place and the immediate vicinity. This legal right, he says, was acquired in the following manner: While the Saxons were still in their ships in the harbour, out of which the Thuringians were unable to drive them, it was resolved on both sides to open negotiations, and thus an understanding was reached, that the Saxons, on the condition that they abstained from plundering and murder, might remain and buy what they needed and sell whatever they could. Then it occurred that a Saxon man, richly adorned with gold and wearing a gold necklace, went ashore. There a Thuringian met him and asked him: "Why do you wear so much gold around your lean neck?" The youth answered that he was perishing from hunger, and was seeking a purchaser of his gold ornaments. "How much do you ask?" inquired the Thuringian. "What do you bid?" answered the Saxon. Near by was a large sand-hill, and the Thuringian said in derision: "I will give you as much sand as you can carry in your clothes." The Saxon said he would accept this offer. The Thuringian filled the skirts of his frock with sand; the Saxon gave him his gold ornaments and returned to the ships. The Thuringians laughed at this bargain with contempt, and the Saxons found it foolish; but the youth said: "Go with me, brave Saxons, and I will show you that my foolishness will be your advantage." Then he took the sand he had bought and scattered it as widely as possible over the ground, covering in this manner so large an area that it gave the Saxons a fortified camp. The Thuringians sent messengers and complained of this, but the Saxons answered that hitherto they had faithfully observed the treaty, and that they had not taken more territory than they had purchased with their gold. Thus the Saxons got a firm foothold in the land. Thus we find that the sagas of the Saxons and the Swabians agree with those of the Longobardians in this, that their ancestors were supposed to have come from a northern country beyond the Baltic. The Swabian version identifies this country distinctly enough with the Scandinavian peninsula. Of an immigration from the East the traditions of these tribes have not a word to say. 17. THE FRANKISH MIGRATION SAGA. We have already stated that the Frankish chronicles, unlike those of the other Teutonic tribes, wholly ignore the traditions of the Franks, and instead present the scholastic doctrine concerning the descent of the Franks from Troy and the Moeotian marshes. But I did not mean to say that we are wholly without evidence that another theory existed among the Franks, for they, too, had traditions in harmony with those of the other Teutonic tribes. There lived in the time of Charlemagne and after him a Frankish man whose name is written on the pages of history as a person of noble character and as a great educator in his day, the abbot in Fulda, later archbishop in Mayence, Hrabanus Maurus, a scholar of the distinguished Alcuin, the founder of the first library and of the first large convent school in Germany. The fact that he was particularly a theologian and Latinist did not prevent his honouring and loving the tongue of his fathers and of his race. He encouraged its study and use, and he succeeded in bringing about that sermons were preached in the churches in the Teutonic dialect of the church-goers. That a Latin scholar with so wide a horizon as his also was able to comprehend what the majority of his colleagues failed to understand--viz., that some value should be attached to the customs of the fathers and to the old memories from heathen times--should not surprise us. One of the proofs of his interest in this matter he has given us in his treatise _De invocatione linguarum_, in which he has recorded a Runic alphabet, and added the information that it is the alphabet used by the Northmen and by other heathen tribes, and that songs and formulas for healing, incantation, and prophecy are written with these characters. When Hrabanus speaks of the Northmen, he adds that those who speak the German tongue trace their descent from the Northmen. This statement cannot be harmonised with the hypothesis concerning the Asiatic descent of the Franks and other Teutons, except by assuming that the Teutons on their immigration from Asia to Europe took a route so far to the north that they reached the Scandinavian peninsula and Denmark without touching Germany and Central Europe, and then came from the North to Germany. But of such a view there is not a trace to be found in the middle age chronicles. The Frankish chronicles make the Franks proceed from Pannonia straight to the Rhine. The Icelandic imitations of the hypothesis make Odin and his people proceed from Tanais to Saxland, and found kingdoms there before he comes to Denmark and Sweden. Hrabanus has certainly not heard of any such theory. His statement that all the Teutons came from the North rests on the same foundation as the native traditions which produced the sagas in regard to the descent of the Longobardians, Saxons, and Swabians from the North. There still remains one trace of the Frankish migration saga, and that is the statement of Paulus Diaconus, made above, concerning the supposed identity of the name Ansgisel with the name Anchises. The identification is not made by Paulus himself, but was found in the Frankish source which furnished him with what he tells about the ancestors of Charlemagne, and the Frankish source, under the influence of the hypothesis regarding the Trojan descent of the Franks, has made an emigration leader mentioned in the popular traditions identical with the Trojan Anchises. This is corroborated by the Ravenna geographer, who also informs us that a certain Anschis, Ansgisel, was a Teutonic emigration leader, and that he was the one under whose leadership the Saxon tribes left their old homes. Thus it appears that, according to the Frankish saga, the Franks originally emigrated under the same chief as the Saxons. The character and position of Ansgisel in the heathen myth will be explained in No. 123. 18. JORDANES ON THE EMIGRATION OF THE GOTHS, GEPIDÆ, AND HERULIANS. THE MIGRATION SAGA OF THE BURGUNDIANS. TRACES OF AN ALAMANNIC MIGRATION SAGA. The most populous and mighty of all the Teutonic tribes was during a long period the _Gothic_, which carried victorious weapons over all eastern and southern Europe and Asia Minor, and founded kingdoms between the Don in the East and the Atlantic ocean and the Pillars of Hercules in the West and South. The traditions of the Goths also referred the cradle of the race to Scandinavia. Jordanes, a Romanised Goth, wrote in the sixth century the history of his people. In the North, he says, there is a great ocean, and in this ocean there is a large island called Scandza, out of whose loins our race burst forth like a swarm of bees and spread over Europe. In its capacity as cradle of the Gothic race, and of other Teutonic tribes, this island Scandza is clearly of great interest to Jordanes, the more so since he, through his father Vamod or Alano-Vamut, regarded himself as descended from the same royal family as that from which the Amalians, the famous royal family of the East Goths, traced their ancestry. On this account Jordanes gives as complete a description of this island as possible. He first tells what the Greek and Roman authors Claudius Ptolemy and Pomponius Mela have written about it, but he also reports a great many things which never before were known in literature, unless they were found in the lost _Historia Gothorum_ by Cassiodorus--things which either Jordanes himself or Cassiodorus had learned from Northmen who were members of the large Teutonic armies then in Italy. Jordanes also points out, with an air of superiority, that while the geographer Ptolemy did not know more than seven nations living on the island Scandza, he is able to enumerate many more. Unfortunately several of the Scandinavian tribe-names given by him are so corrupted by the transcriber that it is useless to try to restore them. It is also evident that Jordanes himself has had a confused notion of the proper geographical or political application of the names. Some of them, however, are easily recognisable as the names of tribes in various parts of Sweden and Norway, as, for instance, Vagoth, Ostrogothæ, Finnaithæ (inhabitants of Finved), Bergio, Hallin, Raumaricii, Ragnaricii, Rani. He gives us special accounts of a Scandinavian people, which he calls sometimes Svehans and sometimes Svethidi, and with these words there is every reason to believe that he means the Swedes in the wider or more limited application of this term. This is what he tells about the Svehans or Svethidi: The Svehans are in connection with the Thuringians living on the continent, that Teutonic people which is particularly celebrated for their excellent horses. The Svehans are excellent hunters, who kill the animals whose skins through countless hands are sent to the Romans, and are treasured by them as the finest of furs. This trade cannot have made the Svehans rich. Jordanes gives us to understand that their economical circumstances were not brilliant, but all the more brilliant were their clothes. He says they dressed _ditissime_. Finally, he has been informed that the Svethidi are superior to other races in stature and corporal strength, and that the Danes are a branch of the Svethidi. What Jordanes relates about the excellent horses of the Swedes is corroborated by the traditions which the Icelanders have preserved. The fact that so many tribes inhabited the island Scandza strengthens his conviction that this island is the cradle of many of the peoples who made war on and invaded the Roman Empire. The island Scandza, he says, has been _officina gentium_, _vagina nationum_--the source of races, the mother of nations. And thence--he continues, relying on the traditions and songs of his own people--the Goths, too, have emigrated. This emigration occurred under the leadership of a chief named Berig, and he thinks he knows where they landed when they left their ships, and that they, like the Longobardians, on their progress came in conflict with the Vandals before they reached the regions north of the Black Sea, where they afterwards founded the great Gothic kingdom which flourished when the Huns invaded Europe. The saga current among the Goths, that they had emigrated from Scandinavia, ascribed the same origin to the Gepidæ. The Gepidæ were a brave but rather sluggish Teutonic tribe, who shared the fate of the Goths when the Huns invaded Europe, and, like the Goths, they cast off the Hunnish yoke after the death of Attila. The saga, as Jordanes found it, stated that when the ancestors of the Goths left Scandza, the whole number of the emigrants did not fill more than three ships. Two of them came to their destination at the same time; but the third required more time, and therefore the first-comers called those who arrived last Gepanta (possibly Gepaita), which, according to Jordanes, means those tarrying, or the slow ones, and this name changed in course of time into Gepidæ. That the interpretation is taken from Gothic traditions is self-evident. Jordanes has heard a report that even the warlike Teutonic Herulians had come to Germany from Scandinavia. According to the report, the Herulians had not emigrated voluntarily from the large islands, but had been driven away by the Svethidi, or by their descendants, the Danes. That the Herulians themselves had a tradition concerning their Scandinavian origin is corroborated by history. In the beginning of the sixth century, it happened that this people, after an unsuccessful war with the Longobardians, were divided into two branches, of which the one received land from the emperor Anastasius south of the Danube, while the other made a resolve, which has appeared strange to all historians, viz., to seek a home on the Scandinavian peninsula. The circumstances attending this resolution make it still more strange. When they had passed the Slavs, they came to uninhabited regions--uninhabited, probably, because they had been abandoned by the Teutons, and had not yet been occupied by the Slavs. In either case, they were open to the occupation of the Herulians; but they did not settle there. We misunderstand their character if we suppose that they failed to do so from fear of being disturbed in their possession of them. Among all the Teutonic tribes none were more distinguished than the Herulians for their indomitable desire for war, and for their rash plans. Their conduct furnishes evidence of that thoughtlessness with which the historian has characterised them. After penetrating the wilderness, they came to the landmarks of the Varinians, and then to those of the Danes. These granted the Herulians a free passage, whereupon the adventurers, in ships which the Danes must have placed at their disposal, sailed over the sea to the island "Thule," and remained there. Procopius, the East Roman historian who records this (_De Bello Goth._, ii., 15), says that on the immense island Thule, in whose northern part the midnight sun can be seen, thirteen large tribes occupy its inhabitable parts, each tribe having its own king. Excepting the Skee Finns, who clothe themselves in skins and live from the chase, these Thulitic tribes, he says, are scarcely to be distinguished from the people dwelling farther south in Europe. One of the largest tribes is the Gauts (the Götar). The Herulians went to the Gauts and were received by them. Some decades later it came to pass that the Herulians remaining in South Europe, and dwelling in Illyria, were in want of a king. They resolved to send messengers to their kinsmen who had settled in Scandinavia, hoping that some descendant of their old royal family might be found there who was willing to assume the dignity of king among them. The messengers returned with two brothers who belonged to the ancient family of rulers, and these were escorted by 200 young Scandinavian Herulians. As Jordanes tells us that the Herulians actually were descended from the great northern island, then this seems to me to explain this remarkable resolution. They were seeking new homes in that land which in their old songs was described as having belonged to their fathers. In their opinion, it was a return to the country which contained the ashes of their ancestors. According to an old middle age source, _Vita Sigismundi_, the Burgundians also had old traditions about a Scandinavian origin. As will be shown further on, the Burgundian saga was connected with the same emigration chief as that of the Saxons and Franks (see No. 123). Reminiscences of an Alamannic migration saga can be traced in the traditions found around the Vierwaldstädter Lake. The inhabitants of the Canton Schwitz have believed that they originally came from Sweden. It is fair to assume that this tradition in the form given to it in literature has suffered a change, and that the chroniclers, on account of the similarity between Sweden and Schwitz, have transferred the home of the Alamannic Switzians to Sweden, while the original popular tradition has, like the other Teutonic migration sagas, been satisfied with the more vague idea that the Schwitzians came from the country in the sea north of Germany when they settled in their Alpine valleys. In the same regions of Switzerland popular traditions have preserved the memory of an exploit which belongs to the Teutonic mythology, and is there performed by the great archer Ibor (see No. 108), and as he reappears in the Longobardian tradition as a migration chief, the possibility lies near at hand, that he originally was no stranger to the Alamannic migration saga. 19. THE TEUTONIC EMIGRATION SAGA FOUND IN TACITUS. The migration sagas which I have now examined are the only ones preserved to our time on Teutonic ground. They have come down to us from the traditions of various tribes. They embrace the East Goths, West Goths, Longobardians, Gepidæ, Burgundians, Herulians, Franks, Saxons, Swabians, and Alamannians. And if we add to these the evidence of Hrabanus Maurus, then all the German tribes are embraced in the traditions. All the evidences are unanimous in pointing to the North as the Teutonic cradle. To these testimonies we must, finally, add the oldest of all--the testimony of the sources of Tacitus from the time of the birth of Christ and the first century of our era. [Illustration: THOR, THE THUNDER GOD. (_From the painting by M. E. Winge._) Thor was reputed to be the son of Odin, surnamed the All-father, and Jorth, the earth. He was the source of wisdom, patron of culture and of heroes, friend of mankind and slayer of giants. He always carried a heavy hammer, called The Crusher, with which he fought, assisted by thunder and lightning. From Thor is derived the middle English words Thursday (Thorsday) and Thunder.] The statements made by Tacitus in his masterly work concerning the various tribes of Germany and their religion, traditions, laws, customs, and character, are gathered from men who, in Germany itself, had seen and heard what they reported. Of this every page of the work bears evidence, and it also proves its author to have been a man of keen observation, veracity, and wide knowledge. The knowledge of his reporters extends to the myths and heroic songs of the Teutons. The latter is the characteristic means with which a gifted people, still leading their primitive life, makes compensation for their lack of written history in regard to the events and exploits of the past. We find that the man he interviewed had informed himself in regard to the contents of the songs which described the first beginning and the most ancient adventures of the race, and he had done this with sufficient accuracy to discover a certain disagreement in the genealogies found in these songs of the patriarchs and tribe heroes of the Teutons--a disagreement which we shall consider later on. But the man who had done this had heard nothing which could bring him, and after him Tacitus, to believe that the Teutons had immigrated from some remote part of the world to that country which they occupied immediately before the birth of Christ--to that Germany which Tacitus describes, and in which he embraces that large island in the North Sea where the seafaring and warlike Sviones dwelt. Quite the contrary. In his sources of information Tacitus found nothing to hinder him from assuming as probable the view he expresses--that the Teutons were aborigines, autochthones, fostered on the soil which was their fatherland. He expresses his surprise at the typical similarity prevailing among all the tribes of this populous people, and at the dissimilarity existing between them on the one hand, and the non-Teutonic peoples on the other; and he draws the conclusion that they are entirely unmixed with other races, which, again, presupposes that the Teutons from the most ancient times have possessed their country for themselves, and that no foreign element has been able to get a foothold there. He remarks that there could scarcely have been any immigrations from that part of Asia which was known to him, or from Africa or Italy, since the nature of Germany was not suited to invite people from richer and more beautiful regions. But while Tacitus thus doubts that non-Teutonic races ever settled in Germany, still he has heard that people who desired to exchange their old homes for new ones have come there to live. But these settlements did not, in his opinion, result in a mixing of the race. Those early immigrants did not come by land, but in fleets over the sea; and as this sea was the boundless ocean which lies beyond the Teutonic continent and was seldom visited by people living in the countries embraced in the Roman empire, those immigrants must themselves have been Teutons. The words of Tacitus are _(Germ., 2): Germanos indigenas crediderim minimeque aliarum gentium adventibus et hospitiis mixtos, quia nec terra olim sed classibus advehebantur qui mutare sedes quærebant, et immensus ultra atque ut sic dixerim adversus Oceanus raris ab orbe nostro navibus aditur._ "I should think that the Teutons themselves are aborigines (and not at all mixed through immigrations or connection with non-Teutonic tribes). For those desiring to change homes did not in early times come by land, but in ships across the boundless and, so to speak, hostile ocean--a sea seldom visited by ships from the Roman world." This passage is to be compared with, and is interpreted by, what Tacitus tells when he, for the second time, speaks of this same ocean in chapter 44, where he relates that in the very midst of this ocean lies a land inhabited by Teutonic tribes, rich not only in men and arms, but also in _fleets_ (_præter viros armaque classibus valent_), and having a stronger and better organization than the other Teutons. These people formed several communities (_civitates_). He calls them the Sviones, and describes their ships. The conclusion to be drawn from his words is, in short, that those immigrants were Northmen belonging to the same race as the continental Teutons. Thus traditions concerning immigrations from the North to Germany have been current among the continental Teutons already in the first century after Christ. But Tacitus' contribution to the Teutonic migration saga is not limited to this. In regard to the origin of a city then already ancient and situated on the Rhine, Asciburgium (_Germ._, 3), his reporter had heard that it was founded by an ancient hero who had come with his ships from the German Ocean, and had sailed up the Rhine a great distance beyond the Delta, and had then disembarked and laid the foundations of Asciburgium. His reporter had also heard such stories about this ancient Teutonic hero that persons acquainted with the Greek-Roman traditions (the Romans or the Gallic neighbours of Asciburgium) had formed the opinion that the hero in question could be none else than the Greek Ulysses, who, in his extensive wanderings, had drifted into the German Ocean and thence sailed up the Rhine. In weighing this account of Tacitus we must put aside the Roman-Gallic conjecture concerning Ulysses' visit to the Rhine, and confine our attention to the fact on which this conjecture is based. The fact is that around Asciburgium a tradition was current concerning an ancient hero who was said to have come across the northern ocean with a host of immigrants and founded the above-named city on the Rhine, and that the songs or traditions in regard to this ancient hero were of such a character that they who knew the adventures of Ulysses thought they had good reason for regarding him as identical with the latter. Now, the fact is that the Teutonic mythology has a hero who to quote the words of an ancient Teutonic document, "was the greatest of all travellers," and who on his journeys met with adventures which in some respects remind us of Ulysses'. Both descended to Hades; both travelled far and wide to find their beloved. Of this mythic hero and his adventures see Nos. 96-107, and No. 107 about Asciburgium in particular. It lies outside the limits of the present work to investigate whether these traditions contain any historical facts. There is need of caution in this respect, since facts of history are, as a rule, short-lived among a people that do not keep written annals. The historical songs and traditions of the past which the Scandinavians recorded in the twelfth century do not go further back in time than to the middle of the ninth century, and the oldest were already mixed with stories of the imagination. The Hellenic historical records from a pre-literary time were no older; nor were those of the Romans. The question how far historically important emigrations from the Scandinavian peninsula and Denmark to Germany have taken place should in my opinion be considered entirely independent of the old migration traditions if it is to be based on a solid foundation. If it can be answered in the affirmative, then those immigrations must have been partial returns of an Aryan race which, prior to all records, have spread from the South to the Scandinavian countries. But the migration traditions themselves clearly have their firmest root in myths, and not in historical memories; and at all events are so closely united with the myths, and have been so transformed by song and fancy, that they have become useless for historical purposes. The fact that the sagas preserved to our time make nearly all the most important and most numerous Teutonic tribes which played a part in the destiny of Southern Europe during the Empire emigrants from Scandinavia is calculated to awaken suspicion. The wide diffusion this belief has had among the Teutons is sufficiently explained by their common mythology--particularly by the myth concerning the earliest age of man or of the Teutonic race. As this work of mine advances, I shall find opportunity of presenting the results of my investigations in regard to this myth. The fragments of it must, so to speak, be exhumed from various mounds, and the proofs that these fragments belong together, and once formed a unit, can only be presented as the investigation progresses. In the division "The Myth concerning the Earliest Period and the Emigrations from the North," I give the preparatory explanation and the general _résumé_ (Nos. 20-43). For the points which cannot there be demonstrated without too long digressions the proofs will be presented in the division "The Myth concerning the Race of Ivalde" (Nos. 96-123). III. THE MYTH CONCERNING THE EARLIEST PERIOD AND THE EMIGRATIONS FROM THE NORTH. 20. THE CREATION OF MAN. THE PRIMEVAL COUNTRY. SCEF THE BRINGER OF CULTURE. The human race, or at least the Teutonic race, springs, according to the myth, from a single pair, and _has accordingly had a centre from which their descendants have spread over that world which was embraced by the Teutonic horizon_. The story of the creation of this pair has its root in a myth of ancient Aryan origin, according to which the first parents were plants before they became human beings. The Iranian version of the story is preserved in Bundehesh, chap. 15. There it is stated that the first human pair grew at the time of the autumnal equinox in the form of a _rheum ribes_ with a single stalk. After the lapse of fifteen years the bush had put forth fifteen leaves. The man and woman who developed in and with it were closely united, forming one body, so that it could not be seen which one was the man and which one was the woman, and they held their hands close to their ears. Nothing revealed whether the splendour of Ahuramazda--that is to say, the soul--was yet in them or not. Then said Ahuramazda to Mashia (the man) and to Mashiana (the woman): "Be human beings; become the parents of the world!" And from being plants they got the form of human beings, and Ahuramazda urged them to think good thoughts, speak good words and do good deeds. Still, they soon thought an evil thought and became sinners. The _rheum ribes_ from which they sprang had its own origin in seed from a primeval being in human form, Gaya Maretan (Gayo-mert), which was created from perspiration (cp. Vafthrudnersmal, xxxiii. 1-4), but was slain by the evil Angra Mainyu. Bundehesh then gives an account of the first generations following Mashia and Mashiana, and explains how they spread over the earth and became the first parents of the human race. The Hellenic Aryans have known the myth concerning the origin of man from plants. According to Hesiodus, the men of the third age of the world grew from the ash tree (_ek meleon_); compare the _Odyssey_, xix, 163. From this same tree came the first man according to the Teutonic myth. Three asas, mighty and worthy of worship, came to Midgard (at _húsi_, Völusp., 16; compare Völusp., 4, where Midgard is referred to by the word _salr_) and found _á landi_ Ask and Embla. These beings were then "of little might" (_litt megandi_) and "without destiny" (_örlögslausir_); they lacked _önd_, they lacked _ódr_, they had no _lá or læti or litr goda_, but Odin gave them _önd_, Honor gave them _ódr_, Loder gave them _lá_ and _litr goda_. In reference to the meaning of these words I refer my readers to No. 95, simply noting here that _litr goda_, hitherto defined as "good colour" (_godr litr_), signifies "the appearance (image) of gods." From looking like trees Ask and Embla got the appearance which before them none but the gods had assumed. The Teutons, like the Greeks and Romans, conceived the gods in the image of men. Odin's words in Havamál, 43, refer to the same myth. The passage explains that when the Asa-god saw the modesty of the new-made human pair he gave them his own divine garments to cover them. When they found themselves so beautifully adorned it seems to indicate the awakening sense of pride in the first human pair. The words are: "In the field (_velli at_) I gave my clothes to the two wooden men (_tveim tremönnum_). Heroes they seemed to themselves when they got clothes. The naked man is embarrassed." But the expressions _á landi_ and _velli at_ should be observed. That the trees grew on the ground, and that the acts of creating and clothing took place there is so self-evident that these words would be meaningless if they were not called for by the fact that the authors of these passages in Havamál and Völuspâ had in their minds the ground _along the sea_, that is, a sea-beach. This is also clear from a tradition given in Gylfaginning, chapter 9, according to which the three asas were walking along the sea-beach (_med sævarströndu_) when they found Ask and Embla, and created of them the first human pair. Thus the first human pair were created on the beach of an ocean. To which sea can the myth refer? The question does not concern the ancient Aryan time, but the Teutonic antiquity, not Asia, but Europe; and if we furthermore limit it to the Christian era there can be but one answer. Germany was bounded in the days of Tacitus, and long before his time, by Gaul, Rhoetia, and Pannonia on the west and south, by the extensive territories of the Sarmatians and Dacians on the east, and by the ocean on the north. The so-called German Ocean, the North Sea and the Baltic, was then the only body of water within the horizon of the Teutons, the only one which in the days of Jordanes, after the Goths long had ruled north of the Black Sea, was thought to wash the primeval Teutonic strands. The myth must therefore refer to the German Ocean. It is certain that the borders of this ocean where the myth has located the creation of the first human pair, or the first Teutonic pair, was regarded as the centre from which their descendants spread over more and more territory. Where near the North Sea or the Baltic was this centre located? Even this question can be answered, thanks to the mythic fragments preserved. A feature common to all well-developed mythological systems is the view that the human race in its infancy was under the special protection of friendly divinities, and received from them the doctrines, arts, and trades without which all culture is impossible. The same view is strongly developed among the Teutons. Anglo-Saxon documents have rescued the story telling how Ask's and Embla's descendants received the first blessings of culture from the benign gods. The story has come to us through Christian hands, which, however, have allowed enough of the original to remain to show that its main purpose was to tell us how the great gifts of culture came to the human race. The saga names the land where this took place. The country was the most southern part of the Scandinavian peninsula, and especially the part of it bordering on the western sea. Had these statements come to us only from northern sources, there would be good reason for doubting their originality and general application to the Teutonic tribes. The Icelandic-Norwegian middle-age literature abounds in evidence of a disposition to locate the events of a myth and the exploits of mythic persons in the author's own land and town. But in this instance there is no room for the suspicion that patriotism has given to the southern-most part of the Scandinavian peninsula a so conspicuous prominence in the earliest history of the myth. The chief evidence is found in the traditions of the Saxons in England, and this gives us the best clue to the unanimity with which the sagas of the Teutonic continent, from a time prior to the birth of Christ far down in the middle ages, point out the great peninsula in the northern sea as the land of the oldest ancestors, in conflict with the scholastic opinion in regard to an emigration from Troy. The region where the myth located the first dawn of human culture was certainly also the place which was regarded as the cradle and centre of the race. The non-Scandinavian sources in question are: Beowulf's poem, Ethelwerdus, Willielmus Malmesburiensis, Simeon Dunelmensis, and Matthæus Monasteriensis. A closer examination of them reveals the fact that they have their information from three different sources, which again have a common origin in a heathen myth. If we bring together what they have preserved of the story we get the following result:[8] One day it came to pass that a ship was seen sailing near the coast of Scedeland or Scani,[9] and it approached the land without being propelled either by oars or sails. The ship came to the sea-beach, and there was seen lying in it a little boy, who was sleeping with his head on a sheaf of grain, surrounded by treasures and tools, by glaives and coats of mail. The boat itself was steady and beautifully decorated. Who he was and whence he came nobody had any idea, but the little boy was received as if he had been a kinsman, and he received the most constant and tender care. As he came with a sheaf of grain to their country the people called him Scef, Sceaf.[10] (The Beowulf poem calls him Scyld, son of Sceaf, and gives Scyld the son Beowulf, which originally was another name of Scyld.) Scef grew up among this people, became their benefactor and king, and ruled most honourably for many years. He died far advanced in age. In accordance with his own directions, his body was borne down to the strand where he had landed as a child. There in a little harbour lay the same boat in which he had come. Glittering from hoar-frost and ice, and eager to return to the sea, the boat was waiting to receive the dead king, and around him the grateful and sorrowing people laid no fewer treasures than those with which Scef had come. And when all was finished the boat went out upon the sea, and no one knows where it landed. He left a son Scyld (according to the Beowulf poem, Beowulf son of Scyld), who ruled after him. Grandson of the boy who came with the sheaf was Healfdene--Halfdan, king of the Danes (that is, according to the Beowulf poem). The myth gives the oldest Teutonic patriarchs a very long life, in the same manner as the Bible in the case of Adam and his descendants. They lived for centuries (see below). The story could therefore make the culture introduced by Scef spread far and wide during his own reign, and it could make his realm increase with the culture. According to scattered statements traceable to the Scef-saga, Denmark, Angeln, and at least the northern part of Saxland, have been populated by people who obeyed his sceptre. In the North Götaland and Svealand were subject to him. The proof of this, so far as Denmark is concerned, is that, according to the Beowulf poem, its first royal family was descended from Scef through his son Scyld (Skjold). In accordance herewith, Danish and Icelandic genealogies make Skjold the progenitor of the first dynasty in Denmark, and also make him the ruler of the land to which his father came, that is, Skane. His origin as a divinely-born patriarch, as a hero receiving divine worship, and as the ruler of the original Teutonic country, appears also in _Fornmannasögur_, v. 239, where he is styled _Skáninga god_, the god of the Scanians. Matthæus Westmonast. informs us that Scef ruled in Angeln. According to the Anglo-Saxon chronicle, the dynasty of Wessex came from Saxland, and its progenitor was Scef. If we examine the northern sources we discover that the Scef myth still may be found in passages which have been unnoticed, and that the tribes of the far North saw in the boy who came with the sheaf and the tools the divine progenitor of their celebrated dynasty in Upsala. This can be found in spite of the younger saga-geological layer which the hypothesis of Odin's and his Trojan Asas' immigration has spread over it since the introduction of Christianity. Scef's personality comes to the surface, we shall see, as Skefill and Skelfir. In the Fornalder-sagas, ii. 9, and in Flateyarbók, i. 24, Skelfir is mentioned as family patriarch and as Skjold's father, the progenitor of the Skjoldungs. There can, therefore, be no doubt that Scef, Scyld's father, and through him the progenitor of the Skjoldungs, originally is the same as Skelfir, Skjold's father, and progenitor of the Skjoldungs in these Icelandic works. But he is not only the progenitor of the Skjoldungs, but also of the Ynglings. The genealogy beginning with him is called in the Flateryarbók, _Skilfinga ætt edr skjoldunga ætt_. The Younger Edda also (i. 522) knows Skelfir, and says he was a famous king whose genealogy _er köllut skilvinga ætt_. Now the Skilfing race in the oldest sources is precisely the same as the Yngling race both from an Anglo-Saxon and from a heathen Norse standpoint. The Beowulf poem calls the Swedish kings _scilfingas_, and according to Thjodulf, a kinsman of the Ynglings and a kinsman of the Skilfing, _Skilfinga nidr_, are identical (Ynglingatal, 30). Even the Younger Edda seems to be aware of this. It says in the passage quoted above that the Skilfing race _er i Austrvegum_. In the Thjodulf strophes _Austrvegar_ means simply Svealand, and _Austrkonungur_ means Swedish king. Thus it follows that the Scef who is identical with Skelfir was in the heathen saga of the North the common progenitor of the Ynglinga and of the Skjoldunga race. From his dignity as original patriarch of the royal families of Sweden, Denmark, Angeln, Saxland, and England, he was displaced by the scholastic fiction of the middle ages concerning the immigration of Trojan Asiatics under the leadership of Odin, who as the leader of the immigration also had to be the progenitor of the most distinguished families of the immigrants. This view seems first to have been established in England after this country had been converted to Christianity and conquered by the Trojan immigration hypothesis. Wodan is there placed at the head of the royal genealogies of the chronicles, excepting in Wessex, where Scef is allowed to retain his old position, and where Odin must content himself with a secondary place in the genealogy. But in the Beowulf poem Scef still retains his dignity as ancient patriarch of the kings of Denmark. From England this same distortion of the myth comes to the North in connection with the hypothesis concerning the immigration of the "Asiamen," and is there finally accepted in the most unconcerned manner, without the least regard to the mythic records which were still well known. Skjold, Scef's son, is without any hesitation changed into a son of Odin (Ynglingasaga, 5; Foreword to Gylfag., 11). Yngve, who as the progenitor of the Ynglings is identical with Scef, and whose very name, perhaps, is or has been conceived as an epithet indicating Scef's tender age when he came to the coast of Scandia--Yngve-Scef is confounded with Frey, is styled Yngve-Frey after the appellation of the Vana-god Ingunar Frey, and he, too, is called a son of Odin (Foreword to Gylfag., c. 13), although Frey in the myth is a son of Njord and belongs to another race of gods than Odin. The epithet with which Are Frode in his _Schedæ_ characterises Yngve, viz., _Tyrkiakonungr_, Trojan king, proves that the lad who came with the sheaf of grain to Skane is already in Are changed into a Trojan. [Footnote 8: Geijer has partly indicated its significance in _Svea Rikes Häfder_, where he says: "The tradition anent Sceaf is remarkable, as it evidently has reference to the introduction of agriculture, and shows that it was first introduced in the most southern part of Scandinavia."] [Footnote 9: The Beowulf poem has the name Scedeland (Scandia): compare the name Skâdan in _De origine Longobardorum_. Ethelwerd writes: "Ipse Skef cum uno dromone advectus est in insulam Oceani, quæ dicitur Scani, armis circumdatus," &c.] [Footnote 10: Matthæus Westmonast. translates this name with _frumenti manipulus_, a sheaf.] 21. SCEF THE AUTHOR OF CULTURE IDENTICAL WITH HEIMDAL-RIG, THE ORIGINAL PATRIARCH. But in one respect Are Frode or his authority has paid attention to the genuine mythic tradition, and that is by making the Vana-gods the kinsmen of the descendants of Yngve. This is correct in the sense that Scef-Yngve, the son of a deity transformed into a man, was in the myth a Vana-god. Accordingly every member of the Yngling race and every descendant of Scef may be styled a _son of Frey_ (_Freys áttungr_), epithets applied by Thjodulf in Ynglingatal in regard to the Upsala kings. They are gifts from the Vana-gods--the implements which point to the opulent Njord, and the grain sheaf which is Frey's symbol--which Scef-Yngve brings with him to the ancient people of Scandia, and his rule is peaceful and rich in blessings. Scef-Yngve comes across the ocean. Vanaheim was thought to be situated on the other side of it, in the same direction as Ægir's palace in the great western ocean and in the outermost domain of Jormumgrund (see 93). This is indicated in Lokasenna, 34, where Loke in Ægir's hall says to the Van Njord: "You were sent from here to the East as a hostage to the gods (_thu vart austr hedan gisl um sendr at godum_)". Thus Njord's castle Noatun is situated in the West, on a strand outside of which the swans sing (Gylfag., 23). In the faded memory of Scef, preserved in the saga of the Lower Rhine and of the Netherlands, there comes to a poverty-stricken people a boat in which there lies a sleeping youth. The boat is, like Scef's, without sails or oars, but is drawn over the billows by a swan. From Gylfaginning, 16, we learn that there are myths telling of the origin of the swans. They are all descended from that pair of swans which swim in the sacred waters of Urd's fountain. Thus the descendants of these swans that sing outside of the Vanapalace Noatun and their arrival to the shores of Midgard seems to have some connection with the coming of the Van Scef and of culture. The Vans most prominent in the myths are Njord, Frey, and Heimdal. Though an Asa-god by adoption, Heimdal is like Njord and Frey a Vana-god by birth and birthplace, and is accordingly called both _áss_ and _vanr_ (Thrymskv., 15). Meanwhile these three divinities, definitely named Vans, are only a few out of many. The Vans have constituted a numerous clan, strong enough to wage a victorious war against the Asas (Völusp.). Who among them was Scef-Yngve? The question can be answered as follows: (1) Of Heimdal, and of him alone among the gods, it is related that he lived for a time among men as a man, and that he performed that which is attributed to Scef--that is, organised and elevated human society and became the progenitor of sacred families in Midgard. (2) Rigsthula relates that the god Heimdal, having assumed the name Rig, begot with an earthly woman the son Jarl-Rig, who in turn became the father of Konr-Rig. Konr-Rig is, as the very name indicates and as Vigfusson already has pointed out, the first who bore the kingly name. In Rigsthula the Jarl begets the king, as in Ynglingasaga the judge (Dómarr) begets the first king. Rig is, according to Ynglingasaga, ch. 20, grandfather to Dan, who is a Skjoldung. Heimdal-Rig is thus the father of the progenitor of the Skjoldungs, and it is the story of the divine origin of the Skjoldungs Rigsthula gives us when it sings of Heimdal as Jarl's father and the first king's grandfather. But the progenitor of the Skjoldungs is, according to both Anglo-Saxon and the northern sources above quoted, Scef. Thus Heimdal and Scef are identical. These proofs are sufficient. More can be presented, and the identity will be established by the whole investigation. As a tender boy, Heimdal was sent by the Vans to the southern shores of Scandinavia with the gifts of culture. Hyndla's lay tells how these friendly powers prepared the child for its important mission, after it was born in the outermost borders of the earth (_vid jardar thraum_), in a wonderful manner, by nine sisters (Hyndla's Lay, 35; Heimdallar Galdr., in the Younger Edda; compare No. 82, where the ancient Aryan root of the myth concerning Heimdal's nine mothers is pointed out). For its mission the child had to be equipped with strength, endurance, and wisdom. It was given to drink _jardar magn svalkaldr sær_ and _Sonar dreyri_. It is necessary to compare these expressions with _Urdar magn_, _svalkaldr sær_ and _Sónar dreyri_ in Gudrunarkivda, ii. 21, a song written in Christian times, where this reminiscence of a triple heathen-mythic drink reappears as a potion of forgetfulness allaying sorrow. The expression _Sónar dreyri_ shows that the child had tasted liquids from the subterranean fountains which water Yggdrasil and sustain the spiritual and physical life of the universe (cp. Nos. 63 and 93). _Són_ contains the mead of inspiration and wisdom. In Gylfaginning, which quotes a satire of late origin, this name is given to a jar in which Suttung preserves this valuable liquor, but to the heathen skalds _Són_ is the name of Mimer's fountain, which contains the highest spiritual gifts, and around whose rush-bordered edge the reeds of poetry grow (Eilif Gudrunson, Skáldskaparmál). The child Heimdal has, therefore, drunk from Mimer's fountain. _Jardar magn_ (the earth's strength) is in reality the same as _Urdar magn_, the strength of the water in Urd's fountain, which keeps the world-tree ever green and sustains the physical life of creation (Völusp.). The third subterranean fountain is Hvergelmer, with hardening liquids. From Hvergelmer comes the river Sval, and the venom-cold Elivogs (Grimner's Lay, Gylfaginning). _Svalkaldar sær_, cool sea, is an appropriate designation of this fountain. When the child has been strengthened in this manner for its great mission, it is laid sleeping in the decorated ship, gets the grain-sheaf for its pillow, and numerous treasures are placed around it. It is certain that there were not only weapons and ornaments, but also workmen's tools among the treasures. It should be borne in mind that the gods made on the plains of Ida not only ornaments, but also tools (_tangir skópu ok tol gördu_). Evidence is presented in No. 82 that Scef-Heimdal brought the fire-auger to primeval man who until that time had lived without the blessings produced by the sacred fire. The boy grows up among the inhabitants on the Scandian coast, and, when he has developed into manhood, human culture has germinated under his influence and the beginnings of classes in society with distinct callings appear. In Rigsthula, we find him journeying along "green paths, from house to house, in that land which his presence has blessed." Here he is called _Rigr_--it is true of him as of nearly all mythological persons, that he has several names--but the introduction to the poem informs us that the person so called is the god Heimdal (_einhverr af asum sá er Heimdallr het_). The country is here also described as situated near the sea. Heimdal journeys _framm med sjofarströndu_. Culture is in complete operation. The people are settled, they spin and weave, perform handiwork, and are smiths, they plough and bake, and Heimdal has instructed them in runes. Different homes show different customs and various degrees of wealth, but happiness prevails everywhere. Heimdal visits Ai's and Edda's unpretentious home, is hospitably received, and remains three days. Nine months thereafter the son Träl (thrall) is born to this family. Heimdal then visits Ave's and Amma's well-kept and cleanly house, and nine months thereafter the son Karl (churl) is born in this household. Thence Rig betakes himself to _Fadir's_ and _Modir's_ elegant home. There is born, nine months later, the son Jarl. Thus the three Teutonic classes--the thralls, the freemen, and the nobility--have received their divine sanction from Heimdal-Rig, and all three have been honoured with divine birth. In the account of Rig's visit to the three different homes lies the mythic idea of a common fatherhood, an idea which must not be left out of sight when human heroes are described as sons of gods in the mythological and heroic sagas. They are sons of the gods and, at the same time, from a genealogical standpoint, men. Their pedigree, starting with Ask and Embla, is not interrupted by the intervention of the visiting god, nor is there developed by this intervention a half-divine, half-human middle class or bastard clan. The Teutonic patriarch Mannus is, according to Tacitus, the son of a god and the grandson of the goddess Earth. Nevertheless he is, as his name indicates, in the full physical sense of the word, a man, and besides his divine father he has had a human father. They are the descendants of Ask and Embla, men of all classes and conditions, whom Völuspa's skald gathered around the seeress when she was to present to them a view of the world's development and commanded silence with the formula: "Give ear, all ye divine races, great and small, sons of Heimdal." The idea of a common fatherhood we find again in the question of _Fadir's_ grandson, as we shall show below. Through him the families of chiefs get the right of precedence before both the other classes. Thor becomes their progenitor. While all classes trace their descent from Heimdal, the nobility trace theirs also from Thor, and through him from Odin. Heimdal-Rig's and _Fadir's_ son, begotten with _Módir_, inherits in Rigsthula the name of the divine co-father, and is called Rig Jarl. Jarl's son, Kon, gets the same name after he has given proof of his knowledge in the runes introduced among the children of men by Heimdal, and has even shown himself superior to his father in this respect. This view that the younger generation surpasses the older points to the idea of a progress in culture among men, during a time when they live in peace and happiness protected by Heimdal's fostering care and sceptre, but must not be construed into the theory of a continued progress based on the law and nature of things, a theory alike strange to the Teutons and to the other peoples of antiquity. Heimdal-Rig's reign must be regarded as the happy ancient age, of which nearly all mythologies have dreamed. Already in the next age following, that is, that of the second patriarch, we read of men of violence who visit the peaceful, and under the third patriarch begins the "knife-age, and axe-age with cloven shields," which continues through history and receives its most terrible development before Ragnarok. The more common mythical names of the persons appearing in Rigsthula are not mentioned in the song, not even Heimdal's. In strophe 48, the last of the fragment, we find for the first time words which have the character of names--_Danr_ and _Danpr_. A crow sings from the tree to Jarl's son, the grandson of Heimdal, Kon, saying that peaceful amusement (_kyrra fugla_) does not become him longer, but that he should rather mount his steed and fight against men; and the crow seeks to awaken his ambition or jealousy by saying that "Dan and Danp, skilled in navigating ships and wielding swords, have more precious halls and a better freehold than you." The circumstance that these names are mentioned makes it possible, as shall be shown below, to establish in a more satisfactory manner the connection between Rigsthula and other accounts which are found in fragments concerning the Teutonic patriarch period. The oldest history of man did not among the Teutons begin with a paradisian condition. Some time has elapsed between the creation of Ask and Embla, and Heimdal's coming among men. As culture begins with Heimdal, a condition of barbarism must have preceded his arrival. At all events the first generations after Ask and Embla have been looked upon as lacking fire; consequently they have been without the art of the smith, without metal implements, and without knowledge of agriculture. Hence it is that the Vana-child comes across the western sea with fire, with implements, and with the sheaf of grain. But the barbarous condition may have been attended with innocence and goodness of heart. The manner in which the strange child was received by the inhabitants of Scandia's coast, and the tenderness with which it was cared for (_diligenti animo_, says Ethelwerd) seem to indicate this. When Scef-Heimdal had performed his mission, and when the beautiful boat in which he came had disappeared beyond the western horizon, then the second mythic patriarch-age begins. 22. HEIMDAL'S SON BORGAR-SKJOLD, THE SECOND PATRIARCH. Ynglingasaga, ch. 20, contains a passage which is clearly connected with Rigsthula or with some kindred source. The passage mentions three persons who appear in Rigsthula, viz., Rig, Danp, and Dan, and it is there stated that the ruler who first possessed the kingly title in Svithiod was the son of a chief, whose name was Judge (_Dómarr_), and Judge was married to Drott (_Drótt_), the daughter of Danp. That Domar and his royal son, the latter with the epithet _Dyggvi_, "the worthy," "the noble," were afterwards woven into the royal pedigree in Ynglingasaga, is a matter which we cannot at present consider. Vigfusson (_Corpus Poet. Bor._) has already shown the mythic symbolism and unhistorical character of this royal pedigree's _Visburr_, the priest, son of a god; of _Dómaldr-Dómvaldr_, the legislator; of _Dómarr_, the judge; and of _Dyggvi_, the first king. These are not historical Upsala kings, but personified myths, symbolising the development of human society on a religious basis into a political condition of law culminating in royal power. It is in short the same chain of ideas as we find in Rigsthula, where Heimdal, the son of a god and the founder of culture, becomes the father of the Jarl-judge, whose son is the first king. _Dómarr_, in the one version of the chain of ideas, corresponds to Rig Jarl in the other, and _Dyggvi_ corresponds to Kon. Heimdal is the first patriarch, the Jarl-judge is the second, and the oldest of kings is the third. Some person, through whose hands Ynglingasaga has passed before it got its present form in Heimskringla, has understood this correspondence between _Dómarr_ and Rig-Jarl, and has given to the former the wife which originally belonged to the latter. Rigsthula has been rescued in a single manuscript. This manuscript was owned by Arngrim Jonsson, the author of _Supplementum Historiæ Norvegiæ_, and was perhaps in his time, as Bugge (_Norr. Fornkv._) conjectures, less fragmentary than it now is. Arngrim relates that Rig Jarl was married to a daughter of Danp, lord of Danpsted. Thus the representative of the Jarl's dignity, like the representative of the Judge's dignity in Ynglingasaga, is here married to Danp's daughter. In Saxo, a man by name Borgar (_Borcarus_--_Hist. Dan._ 336-354) occupies an important position. He is a South Scandinavian chief, leader of Skane's warriors (_Borcarus cum Scanico equitatu_, p. 350), but instead of a king's title, he holds a position answering to that of the Jarl. Meanwhile he, like Skjold, becomes the founder of a Danish royal dynasty. Like Skjold he fights beasts and robbers, and like him he wins his bride, sword in hand. Borgar's wife is Drott (_Drotta_, _Drota_), the same name as Danp's daughter. Skjold's son Gram and Borgar's son Halfdan are found on close examination (see below) to be identical with each other, and with king Halfdan Berggram in whom the names of both are united. Thus we find: (1) That Borgar appears as a chief in Skane, which in the myth is the cradle of the human race, or of the Teutonic race. As such he is also mentioned in _Script. rer. Dan._ (pp. 16-19, 154), where he is called Burgarus and Borgardus. (2) That he has performed similar exploits to those of Skjold, the son of Scef-Heimdal. (3) That he is not clothed with kingly dignity, but has a son who founds a royal dynasty in Denmark. This corresponds to Heimdal's son Rig Jarl, who is not himself styled king, but whose son becomes a Danish king and the progenitor of the Skjoldungs. (4) That he is married to Drott, who, according to Ynglingasaga, is Danp's daughter. This corresponds to Heimdal's son Rig Jarl, who takes a daughter of Danp as his wife. (5) That his son is identical with the son of Skjold, the progenitor of the Skjoldungs. (6) That this son of his is called Halfdan, while in the Anglo-Saxon sources Scef, through his son Scyld (Skjold), is the progenitor of Denmark's king Healfdene. These testimonies contain incontestible evidence that Skjold, Borgar, and Rig Jarl are names of the same mythic person, the son of the ancient patriarch Heimdal, and himself the second patriarch, who, after Heimdal, determines the destiny of his race. The name _Borgarr_ is a synonym of _Skjöldr_. The word _Skjöldr_ has from the beginning had, or has in the lapse of past ages acquired, the meaning "the protecting one," "the shielding one," and as such it was applied to the common defensive armour, the shield. _Borgarr_ is derived from _bjarga_ (past. part. _borginn_; cp. _borg_), and thus has the same meaning, that is, "the defending or protecting one." From Norse poetry a multitude of examples can be given of the paraphrasing of a name with another, or even several others, of similar meaning. The second patriarch, Heimdal's son, thus has the names Skjold, Borgar, and Rig Jarl in the heathen traditions, and those derived therefrom. In German poems of the middle age ("Wolfdieterich," "König Ruther," and others) Borgar is remembered by the name Berchtung, Berker, and Berther. His mythic character as ancient patriarch is there well preserved. He is _der grise mann_, a Teutonic Nestor, wears a beard reaching to the belt, and becomes 250 years old. He was fostered by a king Anzius, the progenitor of the Amelungs (the Amalians). The name Anzius points to the Gothic _ansi_ (Asa-god). Borgar's fostering by "the white Asa-god" has accordingly not been forgotten. Among the exercises taught him by Anzius are _daz werfen mit dem messer und schissen zu dem zil_ (compare Rig Jarl's exercises, Rigsthula, 35). Like Borgar, Berchtung is not a king, but a very noble and greatly-trusted chief, wise and kind, the foster-father and counsellor of heroes and kings. The Norse saga places Borgar, and the German saga places Berchtung, in close relation to heroes who belong to the race of Hildings. Borgar is, according to Saxo, the stepfather of Hildeger; Berchtung is, according to "Wolfdieterich," Hildebrand's ancestor. Of Hildeger Saxo relates in part the same as the German poem tells of Hildebrand. Berchtung becomes the foster-father of an Amalian prince; with Borgar's son grows up as foster-brother Hamal (Helge Hund., 2; see Nos. 29, 42), whose name points to the Amalian race. The very name _Borgarr_, which, as indicated, in this form refers to _bjarga_, may in an older form have been related to the name Berchter, Berchtung. 23. BORGAR-SKJOLD'S SON HALFDAN, THE THIRD PATRIARCH. _The Identity of Gram, Halfdan Berggram, and Halfdan Borgarson._ In the time of Borgar and his son, the third patriarch, many of the most important events of the myth take place. Before I present these, the chain of evidence requires that I establish clearly the names applied to Borgar in our literary sources. Danish scholars have already discovered what I pointed out above, that the kings Gram Skjoldson, Halfdan Berggram, and Halfdan Borgarson mentioned by Saxo, and referred to different generations, are identical with each other and with Halfdan the Skjoldung and Halfdan the Old of the Icelandic documents. The correctness of this view will appear from the following parallels:[11] {Saxo: Gram slays king Sictrugus, and marries Signe, { daughter of Sumblus, king of the Finns. {Hyndluljod: Halfdan Skjoldung slays king Sigtrygg, and 1. { marries Almveig with the consent of Eymund. {Prose Edda: Halfdan the Old slays king Sigtrygg, and { marries Alveig, daughter of Eyvind. {Fornald. S.: Halfdan the Old slays king Sigtrygg, and { marries Alfny, daughter of Eymund. {Saxo: Gram, son of Skjold, is the progenitor of the Skjoldungs. {Hyndluljod: Halfdan Skjoldung, son or descendant of { Skjold, is the progenitor of the Skjoldungs, Ynglings, 2. { Odlungs, &c. {Prose Edda: Halfdan the Old is the progenitor of the { Hildings, Ynglings, Odlungs, &c. {Saxo: Halfdan Bogarson is the progenitor of a royal { family of Denmark. {Saxo: Gram uses a club as a weapon. He kills seven { brothers and nine of their half-brothers. {Saxo: Halfdan Berggram uses an oak as a weapon. He 3. { kills seven brothers. {Saxo: Halfdan Borgarson uses an oak as a weapon. He { kills twelve brothers. {Saxo: Gram secures Groa and slays Henricus on his wedding-day. {Saxo: Halfdan Berggram marries Sigrutha, after having 4. { slain Ebbo on his wedding-day. {Saxo: Halfdan Borgarson marries Guritha, after having { killed Sivarus on his wedding-day. {Saxo: Gram, who slew a Swedish king, is attacked in war { by Svipdag. {Saxo: Halfdan Berggram, who slew a Swedish king, is 5. { attacked by Ericus. {Combined sources: Svipdag is the slain Swedish king's { grandson (daughter's son). {Saxo: Ericus is the son of the daughter of the slain Swedish { king. These parallels are sufficient to show the identity of Gram Skjoldson, Halfdan Berggram, and Halfdan Borgarson. A closer analysis of these sagas, the synthesis possible on the basis of such an analysis, and the position the saga (restored in this manner) concerning the third patriarch, the son of Skjold-Borgar, and the grandson of Heimdal, assumes in the chain of mythic events, gives complete proof of this identity. [Footnote 11: The first nine books of Saxo form a labyrinth constructed out of myths related as history, but the thread of Ariadne seems to be wanting. On this account it might be supposed that Saxo had treated the rich mythical materials at his command in an arbitrary and unmethodical manner; and we must bear in mind that these mythic materials were far more abundant in his time than they were in the following centuries, when they were to be recorded by the Icelandic authors. This supposition is, however, wrong. Saxo has examined his sources methodically and with scrutiny, and has handled them with all due reverence, when he assumed the desperate task of constructing, by the aid of the mythic traditions and heroic poems at hand, a chronicle spanning several centuries--a chronicle in which fifty to sixty successive rulers were to be brought upon the stage and off again, while myths and heroic traditions embrace but few generations, and most mythic persons continue to exist through all ages. In the very nature of the case, Saxo was obliged, in order to solve this problem, to put his material on the rack; but a thorough study of the above-mentioned books of his history shows that he treated the delinquent with consistency. The simplest of the rules he followed was to avail himself of the polyonomy with which the myths and heroic poems are overloaded, and to do so in the following manner: Assume that a person in the mythic or heroic poems had three or four names or epithets (he may have had a score). We will call this person A, and the different forms of his name A', A'', A'''. Saxo's task of producing a chain of events running through many centuries forced him to consider the three names A', A'', and A''' as originally three persons, who had performed certain similar exploits, and therefore had, in course of time, been confounded with each other, and blended by the authors of myths and stories into one person A. As best he can, Saxo tries to resolve this mythical product, composed, in his opinion, of historical elements, and to distribute the exploits attributed to A between A', A'', and A'''. It may also be that one or more of the stories applied to A were found more or less varied in different sources. In such cases he would report the _same_ stories with slight variations about A', A'', and A'''. The similarities remaining form _one_ important group of indications which he has furnished to guide us, but which can assure us that our investigation is in the right course only when corroborated by indications belonging to other groups, or corroborated by statements preserved in other sources. But in the events which Saxo in this manner relates about A', A'', and A''', other persons are also mentioned. We will assume that in the myths and heroic poems these have been named B and C. These, too, have in the songs of the skalds had several names and epithets. B has also been called B', B'', B'''. C has also been styled C', C'', C'''. Out of this one subordinate person B, Saxo, by the aid of the abundance of names, makes as many subordinate persons--B', B'', and B'''--as he made out of the original chief person A--that is, the chief persons A', A'', and A'''. Thus also with C, and in this way we got the following analogies: A' is to B' and C' as A'' B'' C'' and as A''' B''' C'''. By comparing all that is related concerning these nine names, we are enabled gradually to form a more or less correct idea of what the original myth has contained in regard to A, B, and C. If it then happens--as is often the case--that two or more of the names A', B', C', &c., are found in Icelandic or other documents, and there belong to persons whose adventures are in some respects the same, and in other respects are made clearer and more complete, by what Saxo tells about A', A'', and A''', &c., then it is proper to continue the investigation in the direction thus started. If, then, every new step brings forth new confirmations from various sources, and if a myth thus restored easily dovetails itself into an epic cycle of myths, and there forms a necessary link in the chain of events, then the investigation has produced the desired result. An aid in the investigation is not unfrequently the circumstance that the names at Saxo's disposal were not sufficient for all points in the above scheme. We then find analogies which open for us, so to speak, short cuts--for instance, as follows: A' is to B' and C' as A'' B' C'' and as A''' B'' C'. The parallels given in the text above are a concrete example of the above scheme. For we have seen-- A=Halfdan, trebled in A'=Gram, A''=Halfdan Berggram, A'''=Halfdan Borgarson. B=Ebbo (Ebur, Ibor, Jöfurr), trebled in B'=Henricus, B''=Ebbo, B'''=Sivarus. C doubled in C'=Svipdag, and C''=Ericus.] 24. HALFDAN'S ENMITY WITH ORVANDEL AND SVIPDAG (cp. No. 33). Saxo relates in regard to Gram that he carried away the royal daughter Groa, though she was already bound to another man, and that he slew her father, whereupon he got into a feud with Svipdag, an irreconcilably bitter foe, who fought against him with varying success of arms, and gave himself no rest until he had taken Gram's life and realm. Gram left two sons, whom Svipdag treated in a very different manner. The one named Guthormus (_Gudhormr_), who was a son of Groa, he received into his good graces. To the other, named Hadingus, or Hadding, and who was a son of Signe, he transferred the deadly hate he had cherished towards the father. The cause of the hatred of Svipdag against Gram, and which could not be extinguished in his blood, Saxo does not mention, but this point is cleared up by a comparison with other sources. Nor does Saxo mention who the person was from whom Gram robbed Groa, but this, too, we learn in another place. The Groa of the myth is mentioned in two other places: in Groagalder and in Gylfaginning. Both sources agree in representing her as skilled in good, healing, harm-averting songs; both also in describing her as a tender person devoted to the members of her family. In Gylfaginning she is the loving wife who forgets everything in her joy that her husband, the brave archer Orvandel, has been saved by Thor from a dangerous adventure. In Groagalder she is the mother whose love to her son conquers death and speaks consoling and protecting words from the grave. Her husband is, as stated, Orvandel; her son is Svipdag. If we compare the statements in Saxo with those in Groagalder and Gylfaginning we get the following result: Saxo: King Sigtrygg has a daughter Groa. Gylfaginning: Groa is married to the brave Orvandel. Groagalder: Groa has a son Svipdag. Saxo: Groa is robbed by Gram-Halfdan. Saxo: } Hostilities on account of the robbing of Hyndluljod: } the woman. Gram-Halfdan kills Skaldskap.mal:} Groa's father Sigtrygg. Saxo: With Gram-Halfdan Groa has the son Gudhorm. Gram-Halfdan is separated from Groa. He courts Signe (Almveig in Hyndluljod; Alveig in Skaldskaparmál), daughter of Sumbel, king of the Finns. Groagalder: Groa with her son Svipdag is once more with her first husband. Groa dies. Svipdag's father Orvandel marries a second time. Before her death Groa has told Svipdag that he, if need requires her help, must go to her grave and wake her out of the sleep of death. The stepmother gives Svipdag a task which he thinks surpasses his strength. He then goes to his mother's grave. From the grave Groa sings protecting incantations over her son. Saxo: Svipdag attacks Gram-Halfdan. After several conflicts he succeeds in conquering him and gives him a deadly wound. Svidpdag pardons the son Gram-Halfdan has had with Groa, but persecutes his son with Signe (Alveig). In this connection we find the key to Svipdag's irreconcilable conflict with Gram-Halfdan. He must revenge himself on him on his father's and mother's account. He must avenge his mother's disgrace, his grandfather Sigtrygg's death, and, as a further investigation shows, the murder also of his father Orvandel. We also find why he pardons Gudhorm: he is his own half-brother and Groa's son. Sigtrygg, Groa, Orvandel, and Svipdag have in the myth belonged to the pedigree of the Ynglings, and hence Saxo calls Sigtrygg king in Svithiod. Concerning the Ynglings, Ynglingasaga remarks that Yngve was the name of everyone who in that time was the head of the family (Yngl., p. 20). Svipdag, the favourite hero of the Teutonic mythology, is accordingly celebrated in song under the name Yngve, and also under other names to which I shall refer later, when I am to give a full account of the myth concerning him. 25. HALFDAN'S IDENTITY WITH MANNUS IN "GERMANIA." With Gram-Halfdan the Teutonic patriarch period ends. The human race had its golden age under Heimdal, its copper age under Skjold-Borgar, and the beginning of its iron age under Halfdan. The Skilfinga-Ynglinga race has been named after Heimdal-Skelfir himself, and he has been regarded as its progenitor. His son Skjold-Borgar has been considered the founder of the Skjoldungs. With Halfdan the pedigree is divided into three through his stepson Yngve-Svipdag, the latter's half-brother Gudhorm, and Gudhorm's half-brother Hading or Hadding. The war between these three--a continuation of the feud between Halfdan and Svipdag--was the subject of a cycle of songs sung throughout Teutondom, songs which continued to live though greatly changed with the lapse of time, on the lips of Germans throughout the middle ages (see Nos. 36-43). Like his father, Halfdan was the fruit of a double fatherhood, a divine and a human. Saxo was aware of this double fatherhood, and relates of his Halfdan Berggram that he, although the son of a human prince, was respected as a son of Thor, and honoured as a god among that people who longest remained heathen; that is to say, the Swedes (_Igitur apud Sveones tantus haberi cæpit, ut magni Thor filius existimatus, divinis a populo honoribus donaretur ac publico dignus libamine censeretur_). In his saga, as told by Saxo, Thor holds his protecting hand over Halfdan like a father over his son. It is possible that both the older patriarchs originally were regarded rather as the founders and chiefs of the whole human race than of the Teutons alone. Certain it is that the appellation Teutonic patriarch belonged more particularly to the third of the series. We have a reminiscence of this in Hyndluljod, 14-16. To the question, "Whence came the Skjoldungs, Skilfings, Andlungs, and Ylfings, and all the free-born and gentle-born?" the song answers by pointing to "the foremost among the Skjoldungs"--Sigtrygg's slayer Halfdan--a statement which, after the memory of the myths had faded and become confused, was magnified in the Younger Edda into the report that he was the father of eighteen sons, nine of which were the founders of the heroic families whose names were at that time rediscovered in the heathen-heroic songs then extant. According to what we have now stated in regard to Halfdan's genealogical position there can no longer be any doubt that he is the same patriarch as the Mannus mentioned by Tacitus in _Germania_, ch. 2, where it is said of the Germans: "In old songs they celebrate _Tuisco_, a god born of Earth (_Terra_; compare the goddess _Terra Mater_, ch. 40), and his son Mannus as the source and founder of the race. Mannus is said to have had three sons, after whose names those who dwell nearest the ocean are called Ingævonians (_Ingævones_), those who dwell in the centre Hermionians (_Hermiones_, _Herminones_), and the rest Istævonians (_Istævones_)." Tacitus adds that there were other Teutonic tribes, such as the Marsians, the Gambrivians, the Svevians, and the Vandals, whose names were derived from other heroes of divine birth. Thus Mannus, though human, and the source and founder of the Teutonic race, is also the son of a god. The mother of his divine father is the goddess Earth, mother Earth. In our native myths we rediscover this goddess--polyonomous like nearly all mythic beings--in Odin's wife Frigg, also called _Fjorgyn_ and _Hlodyn_. As sons of her and Odin only Thor (Völusp.) and Balder (Lokasenna) are definitely mentioned. In regard to the goddess Earth (Jord), Tacitus states (ch. 40), as a characteristic trait that she is believed to take a lively interest and active part in the affairs of men and nations (_eam intervenire rebus hominum, invehi populis arbitrantur_), and he informs us that she is especially worshipped by the Longobardians and some of their neighbours near the sea. This statement, compared with the emigration saga of the Longobardians (No. 15), confirms the theory that the goddess Jord, who, in the days of Tacitus, was celebrated in song as the mother of Mannus' divine father, is identical with Frigg. In their emigration saga the Longobardians have great faith in Frigg, and trust in her desire and ability to intervene when the fate of a nation is to be decided by arms. Nor are they deceived in their trust in her; she is able to bring about that Odin, without considering the consequences, gives the Longobardians a new name; and as a christening present was in order, and as the Longobardians stood arrayed against the Vandals at the moment when they received their new name, the gift could be no other than victory over their foes. Tacitus' statement, that the Longobardians were one of the races who particularly paid worship to the goddess Jord, is found to be intimately connected with, and to be explained by, this tradition, which continued to be remembered among the Longobardians long after they became converted to Christianity, down to the time when _Origo Longobardorum_ was written. Tacitus calls the goddess Jord Nerthus. Vigfusson (and before him J. Grimm) and others have seen in this name a feminine version of _Njördr_. Nor does any other explanation seem possible. The existence of such a form is not more surprising than that we have in Freyja a feminine form of Frey, and in Fjorgyn-Frigg a feminine form of Fjörgynr. In our mythic documents neither Frigg nor Njord are of Asa race. Njord is, as we know, a Van. Frigg's father is _Fjörgynr_ (perhaps the same as _Parganya_ in the Vedic songs), also called _Annarr_, _Ánarr_, and _Ónarr_, and her mother is Narve's daughter Night. Frigg's high position as Odin's real and lawful wife, as the queen of the Asa world, and as mother of the chief gods Thor and Balder, presupposes her to be of the noblest birth which the myth could bestow on a being born outside of the Asa clan, and as the Vans come next after the Asas in the mythology, and were united with them from the beginning of time, as hostages, by treaty, by marriage, and by adoption, probability, if no other proof could be found, would favour the theory that Frigg is a goddess of the race of Vans, and that her father _Fjörgyn_ is a clan-chief among the Vans. This view is corroborated in two ways. The cosmogony makes Earth and Sea sister and brother. The same divine mother Night (Nat), who bears the goddess Jord, also bears a son _Udr_, _Unnr_, the ruler of the sea, also called _Audr_ (Rich), the personification of wealth. Both these names are applied among the gods to Njord alone as the god of navigation, commerce, and wealth. (In reference to wealth compare the phrase _audigr sem Njördr_--rich as Njord.) Thus Frigg is Njord's sister. This explains the attitude given to Frigg in the war between the Asas and Vans by Völuspa, Saxo, and the author of Ynglingasaga, where the tradition is related as history. In the form given to this tradition in Christian times and in Saxo's hands, it is disparaging to Frigg as Odin's wife; but the pith of Saxo's narrative is, that Frigg in the feud between the Asas and Vans did not side with Odin but with the Vans, and contributed towards making the latter lords of Asgard. When the purely heathen documents (Völusp., Vafthr., Lokas.) describe her as a tender wife and mother, Frigg's taking part with the Vans against her own husband can scarcely be explained otherwise than by the Teutonic principle, that the duties of the daughter and sister are above the wife's, a view plainly presented in Saxo (p. 353), and illustrated by Gudrun's conduct toward Atle. Thus it is proved that the god who is the father of the Teutonic patriarch Mannus is himself the son of Frigg, the goddess of earth, and must, according to the mythic records at hand, be either Thor or Balder. The name given him by Tacitus, _Tuisco_, does not determine which of the two. _Tuisco_ has the form of a patronymic adjective, and reappears in the Norse _Tívi_, an old name of Odin, related to _Dios divus_, and _devas_, from which all the sons of Odin and gods of Asgard received the epithet _tívar_. But in the songs learned by Saxo in regard to the northern race-patriarch and his divine father, his place is occupied by Thor, not by Balder, and "Jord's son" is in Norse poetry an epithet particularly applied to Thor. Mannus has three sons. So has Halfdan. While Mannus has a son _Ingævo_, Halfdan has a stepson Yngve, Inge (Svipdag). The second son of Mannus is named Hermio. Halfdan's son with Groa is called _Gudhormr_. The second part of this name has, as Jessen has already pointed out, nothing to do with _ormr_. It may be that the name should be divided _Gudhormr_, and that _hormr_ should be referred to _Hermio_. Mannus' third son is _Istævo_. The Celtic scholar Zeuss has connected this name with that of the Gothic (more properly Vandal) heroic race Azdingi, and Grimm has again connected Azdigni with Hazdiggo (_Haddingr_). Halfdan's third son is in Saxo called Hadingus. Whether the comparisons made by Zeuss and Grimm are to the point or not (see further, No. 43) makes but little difference here. It nevertheless remains as a result of the investigation that all is related by Tacitus about the Teutonic patriarch Mannus has its counterpart in the question concerning Halfdan, and that both in the myths occupy precisely the same place as sons of a god and as founders of Teutonic tribes and royal families. The pedigrees are: =_Tacitus._= =_Norse documents._= Tivi and the goddess Jord. Tivi=Odin and the goddess | Jord. | | Tivi's son (Tiusco). Tivi's son Thor. | | Mannus, progenitor of the Halfdan, progenitor of the Teutonic tribes. royal families. +--------+--------+ +---------+---------+ | | | | | | Ingævo. Hermio. Istævo. Yngve. Gudhormr. Hadding. 26. THE SACRED RUNES LEARNED FROM HEIMDAL. The mythic ancient history of the human race and of the Teutons may, in accordance with the analysis above given, be divided into the following epochs:--(1) From Ask and Ernbla's creation until Heimdal's arrival; (2) from Heimdal's arrival until his departure; (3) the age of Skjold-Borgar; (4) Halfdan's time; (5) The time of Halfdan's sons. And now we will discuss the events of the last three epochs. In the days of Borgar the moral condition of men grows worse, and an event in nature takes place threatening at least the northern part of the Teutonic world with destruction. The myth gives the causes of both these phenomena. The moral degradation has its cause, if not wholly, yet for the greater part, in the activity among men of a female being from the giant world. Through her men become acquainted with the black art, the evil art of sorcery, which is the opposite of the wisdom drawn from Mimer's holy fountain, the knowledge of runes, and acquaintance with the application of nature's secret forces for good ends (see Nos. 34, 35). The sacred knowledge of runes, the "fimbul-songs," the white art, was, according to the myth, originally in the possession of Mimer. Still he did not have it of himself, but got it from the subterranean fountain, which he guarded beneath the middle root of the world-tree (see No. 63)--a fountain whose veins, together with the deepest root of the world-tree, extends to a depth which not even Odin's thought can penerate (Havam., 138). By self-sacrifice in his youth Odin received from Bestla's brother (Mimer; see No. 88) a drink from the precious liquor of this fountain and nine fimbul-songs (Havam., 140; cp. Sigrdr., 14), which were the basis of the divine magic of the application of the power of the word and of the rune over spiritual and natural forces, in prayer, in sacrifices and in other religious acts, in investigations, in the practical affairs of life, in peace and in war (Havam., 144 ff.; Sigrdr., 6 ff.). The character and purpose of these songs are clear from the fact that at the head is placed "help's fimbul-song," which is able to allay sorrow and cure diseases (Havam., 146). In the hands of Odin they are a means for the protection of the power of the Asa-gods, and enable them to assist their worshippers in danger and distress. To these belong the fimbul-song of the _runes of victory_; and it is of no little interest that we, in Havamál, 156, find what Tacitus tells about the _barditus_ of the Germans, the shield-song with which they went to meet their foes--a song which Ammianus Paulus himself has heard, and of which he gives a vivid description. When the Teutonic forces advanced to battle the warriors raised their shields up to a level with the upper lip, so that the round of the shield formed a sort of sounding-board for their song. This began in a low voice and preserved its subdued colour, but the sound gradually increased, and at a distance it resembled the roar of the breakers of the sea. Tacitus says that the Teutons predicted the result of the battle from the impression the song as a whole made upon themselves: it might sound in their ears in such a manner that they thereby became more terrible to their enemies, or in such a manner that they were overcome by despair. The above-mentioned strophe of Havamál gives us an explanation of this: the warriors were roused to confidence if they, in the harmony of the subdued song increasing in volume, seemed to perceive Valfather's voice blended with their own. The strophe makes Odin say: _Ef ec scal til orrostu leitha langvini, undir randir ec gel, en their meth ríki fara heilir hildar til, heilir hildi frá_--"If I am to lead those to battle whom I have long held in friendship, then I sing under their shields. With success they go to the conflict, and successfully they go out of it." Völuspa also refers to the shield-song in 47, where it makes the storm-giant, _Hrymr_, advancing against the gods, "lift his shield before him" (_hefiz lind fyrir_), an expression which certainly has another significance than that of unnecessarily pointing out that he has a shield for protection. The runes of victory were able to arrest weapons in their flight and to make those whom Odin loved proof against sword-edge and safe against ambush (Havam., 148, 150). Certain kinds of runes were regarded as producing victory and were carved on the hilt and on the blade of the sword, and while they were carved Tyr's name was twice named (Sigrdr., 6). Another class of runes (_brimrúnar_, Sigrdr., 10; Havam., 150) controlled the elements, purified the air from evil beings (Havm., 155), gave power over wind and waves for good purposes--as, for instance, when sailors in distress were to be rescued--or power over the flames when they threatened to destroy human dwellings (Havam., 152). A third kind of runes (_málrúnar_) gave speech to the mute and speechless, even to those whose lips were sealed in death (see No. 70). A fourth kind of runes could free the limbs from bonds (Havam., 149). A fifth kind of runes protected against witchcraft (Havam., 151). A sixth kind of runes (_ölrúnar_) takes the strength from the love-potion prepared by another man's wife, and from every treachery mingled therein (Sigrdr., 7, 8). A seventh kind (_bjargrúnar_ and _limrúnar_) helps in childbirth and heals wounds. An eighth kind gives wisdom and knowledge (_hugrúnar_, Sigrdr., 13; cp. Havam., 159). A ninth kind extinguishes enmity and hate, and produces friendship and love (Havam., 153, 161). Of great value, and a great honour to kings and chiefs, was the possession of healing runes and healing hands; and that certain noble-born families inherited the power of these runes was a belief which has been handed down even to our time. There is a distinct consciousness that the runes of this kind were a gift of the blithe gods. In a strophe, which sounds as if it were taken from an ancient hymn, the gods are beseeched for runes of wisdom and healing: "Hail to the gods! Hail to the goddesses! Hail to the bounteous Earth (the goddess Jord). Words and wisdom give unto us, and healing hands while we live!" (Sigrdr., 4). In ancient times arrangements were made for spreading the knowledge of the good runes among all kinds of beings. Odin taught them to his own clan; Dáinn taught them to the Elves; Dvalinn among the dwarfs; Ásvinr (see No. 88) among the giants (Havam., 143). Even the last-named became participators in the good gift, which, mixed with sacred mead, was sent far and wide, and it has since been among the Asas, among the Elves, among the wise Vans, and among the children of men (Sigrdr., 18). The above-named Dvalinn, who taught the runes to his clan of ancient artists, is the father of daughters, who, together with dises of Asa and Vana birth, are in possession of _bjargrúnar_, and employ them in the service of man (Fafnism., 13). To men the beneficent runes came through the same god who as a child came with the sheaf of grain and the tools to Scandia. Hence the belief current among the Franks and Saxons that the alphabet of the Teutons, like the Teutons themselves, was of northern origin. Rigsthula expressly presents Heimdal as teaching runes to the people whom he blessed by his arrival in Midgard. The noble-born are particularly his pupils in runic lore. Of Heimdal's grandson, the son of Jarl Borgar, named Kon-Halfdan, it is said: En Konr ungr But Kon the young kunni runar, taught himself runes, æfinrunar runes of eternity ok alldrrunar. and runes of earthly life. Meir kunni hann Then he taught himself monnum bjarga, men to save, eggjar deyfa, the sword-edge to deaden, ægi legia, the sea to quiet, klok nam fugla, bird-song to interpret, kyrra ellda, fires to extinguish, sæva ok svefia, to soothe and comfort, sorgir lægia. sorrows to allay. The fundamental character of this rune-lore bears distinctly the stamp of nobility. The runes of eternity united with those of the earthly life can scarcely have any other reference than to the heathen doctrines concerning religion and morality. These were looked upon as being for all time, and of equal importance to the life hereafter. Together with physical runes with magic power--that is, runes that gave their possessors power over the hostile forces of nature--we find runes intended to serve the cause of sympathy and mercy. 27. SORCERY THE REVERSE OF THE SACRED RUNES. GULLVEIG-HEIDR, THE SOURCE OF SORCERY. THE MORAL DETERIORATION OF THE ORIGINAL MAN. But already in the beginning of time evil powers appear for the purpose of opposing and ruining the good influences from the world of gods upon mankind. Just as Heimdal, "the fast traveller," proceeds from house to house, forming new ties in society and giving instruction in what is good and useful, thus we soon find a messenger of evil wandering about between the houses in Midgard, practising the black art and stimulating the worst passions of the human soul. The messenger comes from the powers of frost, the enemies of creation. It is a giantess, the daughter of the giant _Hrimnir_ (Hyndlulj., 32), known among the gods as Gulveig and by other names (see Nos. 34, 35), but on her wanderings on earth called _Heidr_. "Heid they called her (Gulveig) when she came to the children of men, the crafty, prophesying vala, who practised sorcery (_vitti ganda_), practised the evil art, caused by witchcraft misfortunes, sickness, and death (_leikin_, see No. 67), and was always sought by bad women." Thus Völuspa describes her. The important position Heid occupies in regard to the corruption of ancient man, and the consequences of her appearance for the gods, for man, and for nature (see below), have led Völuspa's author, in spite of his general poverty of words, to describe her with a certain fulness, pointing out among other things that she was the cause of the first war in the world. That the time of her appearance was during the life of Borgar and his son shall be demonstrated below. In connection with this moral corruption, and caused by the same powers hostile to the world, there occur in this epoch such disturbances in nature that the original home of man and culture--nay, all Midgard--is threatened with destruction on account of long, terrible winters. A series of connected myths tell of this. Ancient artists--forces at work in the growth of nature--personifications of the same kind as Rigveda's Ribhus, that had before worked in harmony with the gods, become, through the influence of Loke, foes of Asgard, their work becoming as harmful as it before was beneficent, and seek to destroy what Odin had created (see Nos. 111 and 112). Idun, with her life-renewing apples, is carried by Thjasse away from Asgard to the northernmost wilderness of the world, and is there concealed. Freyja, the goddess of fertility, is robbed and falls into the power of giants. Frey, the god of harvests, falls sick. The giant king Snow and his kinsmen _Thorri_ (Black Frost), _Jökull_ (the Glacier), &c., extend their sceptres over Scandia. Already during Heimdal's reign, after his protégé Borgar had grown up, something happens which forebodes these terrible times, but still has a happy issue. 28A. HEIMDAL AND THE SUN-DIS (Dis-goddess). In Saxo's time there was still extant a myth telling how Heimdal, as the ruler of the earliest generation, got himself a wife. The myth is found related as history in _Historia Danica_, pp. 335-337. Changed into a song of chivalry in middle age style, we find it on German soil in the poem concerning king Ruther. Saxo relates that a certain king Alf undertook a perilous journey of courtship, and was accompanied by Borgar. Alf is the more noble of the two; Borgar attends him. This already points to the fact that the mythic figure which Saxo has changed into a historical king must be Heimdal, Borgar's co-father, his ruler and fosterer, otherwise Borgar himself would be the chief person in his country, and could not be regarded as subject to anyone else. Alf's identity with Heimdal is corroborated by "King Ruther," and to a degree also by the description Saxo makes of his appearance, a description based on a definite mythic prototype. Alf, says Saxo, had a fine exterior, and over his hair, though he was young, a so remarkably white splendour was diffused that rays of light seemed to issue from his silvery locks (_cujus etiam insignem candore cæsariem tantus comæ decor asperierat, ut argenteo crine nitere putaretur_). The Heimdal of the myth is a god of light, and is described by the colour applied to pure silver in the old Norse literature to distinguish it from that which is alloyed; he is _hvíti áss_ (Gylfag., 27) and _hvítastr ása_ (Thrymskvida, 5); his teeth glitter like gold, and so does his horse. We should expect that the maid whom Alf, if he is Heimdal, desires to possess belongs like himself to the divinities of light. Saxo also says that her beauty could make one blind if she was seen without her veil, and her name Alfhild belongs, like Alfsol, Hild, Alfhild Solglands, Svanhild Guldfjæder, to that class of names by which the sundises, mother and daughter, were transferred from mythology to history. She is watched by two dragons. Suitors who approach her in vain get their heads chopped off and set up on poles (thus also in "King Ruther"). Alf conquers the guarding dragons; but at the advice of her mother Alfhild takes flight, puts on a man's clothes and armour, and becomes a female warrior, fighting at the head of other Amazons. Alf and Borgar search for and find the troop of Amazons amid ice and snow. It is conquered and flies to "Finnia," Alf and Borgar pursue them thither. There is a new conflict. Borgar strikes the helmet from Alfhild's head. She has to confess herself conquered, and becomes Alf's wife. In interpreting the mythic contents of this story we must remember that the lad who came with the sheaf of grain to Scandia needed the help of the sun for the seed which he brought with him to sprout, before it could give harvests to the inhabitants. But the saga also indicates that the sun-dis had veiled herself, and made herself as far as possible unapproachable, and that when Heimdal had forced himself into her presence she fled to northern ice-enveloped regions, where the god and his foster-son, sword in hand, had to fetch her, whereupon a happy marriage between him and the sun-dis secures good weather and rich harvests to the land over which he rules. At the first glance it might seem as if this myth had left no trace in our Icelandic records. This is, however, not the case. Its fundamental idea, that the sun at one time in the earliest ages went astray from southern regions to the farthest north and desired to remain there, but that it was brought back by the might of the gods who created the world, and through them received, in the same manner as Day and Night, its course defined and regularly established, we find in the Völuspa strophe, examined with so great acumen by Julius Hoffory, which speaks of a bewilderment of this kind on the part of the sun, occurring before it yet "knew its proper sphere," and in the following strophe, which tells how the all-holy gods thereupon held solemn council and so ordained the activity of these beings, that time can be divided and years be recorded by their course. Nor is the marriage into which the sun-dis entered forgotten. Skaldskaparmal quotes a strophe from Skule Thorsteinson where Sol[12] is called _Glenr's_ wife. That he whom the skald characterises by this epithet is a god is a matter of course. _Glenr_ signifies "the shining one," and this epithet was badly chosen if it did not refer to "the most shining of the Asas," _hvítastr ása_--that is, Heimdal. The fundamental traits of "King Ruther" resemble Saxo's story. There, too, it is a king who undertakes a perilous journey of courtship and must fight several battles to win the wondrous fair maiden whose previous suitors had had to pay for their eagerness by having their heads chopped off and fastened on poles. The king is accompanied by Berter, identical with Berchtung-Borgar, but here, as always in the German story, described as the patriarch and adviser. A giant, Vidolt--Saxo's Vitolphus, Hyndluljod's _Vidolfr_--accompanies Ruther and Berter on the journey; and when Vitolphus in Saxo is mentioned under circumstances which show that he accompanied Borgar on a warlike expedition, and thereupon saved his son Halfdan's life, there is no room for doubt that Saxo's saga and "King Ruther" originally flowed from the same mythic source. It can also be demonstrated that the very name Ruther is one of those epithets which belong to Heimdal. The Norse _Hrútr_ is, according to the Younger Edda (i. 588, 589), a synonym of _Heimdali_, and _Heimdali_ is another form of _Heimdall_ (Isl., i. 231). As _Hrútr_ means a ram, and as _Heimdali_ is an epithet of a ram (see Younger Edda, i. 589), light is thrown upon the bold metaphors, according to which "head," "Heimdal's head," and "Heimdal's sword" are synonyms (Younger Edda, i. 100, 264; ii. 499). The ram's head carries and is the ram's sword. Of the age of this animal symbol we give an account in No. 82. There is reason for believing that Heimdal's helmet has been conceived as decorated with ram's horns.[13] A strophe quoted in the Younger Edda (i. 608) mentions Heimdal's helmet, and calls the sword the _fyllr_ of Heimdal's helmet, an ambiguous expression, which may be interpreted as that which fills Heimdal's helmet; that is to say, Heimdal's head, but also as that which has its place on the helmet. Compare the expression _fyllr hilmis stóls_ as a metaphor for the power of the ruler. [Footnote 12: Sol is feminine in the Teutonic tongues.--TR.] [Footnote 13: That some one of the gods has worn a helmet with such a crown can be seen on one of the golden horns found near Gallehuus. There twice occurs a being wearing a helmet furnished with long, curved, sharp pointed horns. Near him a ram is drawn and in his hand he has something resembling a staff which ends in a circle, and possibly is intended to represent Heimdal's horn.] 28B. LOKE CAUSES ENMITY BETWEEN THE GODS AND THE ORIGINAL ARTISTS (THE CREATORS OF ALL THINGS GROWING). THE CONSEQUENCE IS THE FIMBUL-WINTER AND EMIGRATIONS. The danger averted by Heimdal when he secured the sun-dis with bonds of love begins in the time of Borgar. The corruption of nature and of man go hand in hand. Borgar has to contend with robbers (_pugiles_ and _piratæ_), and among them the prototype of pirates--that terrible character, remembered also in Icelandic poetry, called _Rodi_ (Saxo, _Hist._, 23, 345). The moderate laws given by Heimdal had to be made more severe by Borgar (_Hist._, 24, 25). While the moral condition in Midgard grows worse, Loke carries out in Asgard a cunningly-conceived plan, which seems to be to the advantage of the gods, but is intended to bring about the ruin of both the gods and man. His purpose is to cause enmity between the original artists themselves and between them and the gods. Among these artists the sons of Ivalde constitute a separate group. Originally they enjoyed the best relations to the gods, and gave them the best products of their wonderful art, for ornament and for use. Odin's spear _Gungnir_, the golden locks on Sif's head, and Frey's celebrated ship Skidbladner, which could hold all the warriors of Asgard and always had favourable wind, but which also could be folded as a napkin and be carried in one's pocket (Gylfaginning), had all come from the workshop of these artists. Ivalda synir The sons of Ivalde gengu i ardaga went in ancient times Scidbladni at skapa, to make Skidbladner, scipa bezt, among ships the best, scirom Frey, for the shining Frey, nytom Njardar bur. Njord's useful son. (Grimnismal.) Another group of original artists were Sindre and his kinsmen, who dwelt on Nida's plains in the happy domain of the lower world (Völusp., Nos. 93, 94). According to the account given in Gylfaginning, ch. 37, Loke meets Sindre's brother Brok, and wagers his head that Sindre cannot make treasures as good as the above-named gifts from Ivalde's sons to the Asas. Sindre then made in his smithy the golden boar for Frey, the ring Draupner for Odin, from which eight gold rings of equal weight drop every ninth night, and the incomparable hammer Mjolner for Thor. When the treasures were finished, Loke cunningly gets the gods to assemble for the purpose of deciding whether or not he has forfeited his head. The gods cannot, of course, decide this without at the same time passing judgment on the gifts of Sindre and those of Ivalde's sons, and showing that one group of artists is inferior to the other. And this is done. Sindre's treasures are preferred, and thus the sons of Ivalde are declared to be inferior in comparison. But at the same time Sindre fails, through the decision of the gods, to get the prize agreed on. Both groups of artists are offended by the decision. Gylfaginning does not inform us whether the sons of Ivalde accepted the decision with satisfaction or anger, or whether any noteworthy consequences followed or not. An entirely similar judgment is mentioned in Rigveda (see No. 111). The judgment there has the most important consequences: hatred toward the artists who were victorious, and toward the gods who were the judges, takes possession of the ancient artist who was defeated, and nature is afflicted with great suffering. That the Teutonic mythology has described similar results of the decision shall be demonstrated in this work. Just as in the names _Alveig_ and _Almveig_, _Bil-röst_ and _Bifröst_, _Arinbjörn_ and _Grjótbjorn_, so also in the name _Ivaldi_ or _Ivaldr_, the latter part of the word forms the permanent part, corresponding to the Old English Valdere, the German Walther, the Latinised Waltharius.[14] The former part of the word may change without any change as to the person indicated: _Ívaldi_, _Allvaldi_, _Ölvaldi_, _Audvaldi_, may be names of one and the same person. Of these variations _Ívaldi_ and _Allvaldi_ are in their sense most closely related, for the prefix Í (_Id_) and _All_ may interchange in the language without the least change in the meaning. Compare _all-líkr_, _ílikr_, and _idglíkr_; _all-lítill_ and _ilítill_; _all-nóg_, _ígnog_ and _idgnog_. On the other hand, the prefixes in _Ölvaldi_ and _Audvaldi_ produce different meanings of the compound word. But the records give most satisfactory evidence that _Ölvaldi_ and _Audvaldi_ nevertheless are the same person as _Allvaldi_ (Ivaldi). Thjasse's father is called in Harbardsljod (19) _Allvaldi_; in the Younger Edda (i. 214) _Ölvaldi_ and _Audvaldi_. He has three sons, Ide, Gang, also called Urner (the Grotte-song), and the just-named Thjasse, who are the famous ancient artists, "the sons of Ivalde" (_Ivalda synir_). We here point this out in passing. Complete statement and proof of this fact, so important from a mythological standpoint, will be given in Nos. 113, 114, 115. Nor is it long before it becomes apparent what the consequences are of the decision pronounced by the Asas on Loke's advice upon the treasures presented to the gods. The sons of Ivalde regarded it as a mortal offence, born of the ingratitude of the gods. Loke, the originator of the scheme, is caught in the snares laid by Thjasse in a manner fully described in Thjodolf's poem "Haustlaung," and to regain his liberty he is obliged to assist him (Thjasse) in carrying Idun away from Asgard. [Illustration: GIANT THJASSE, IN THE GUISE OF AN EAGLE, CARRIES OFF LOKE. (_From an etching by Lorenz Frölich._) Thjasse was known as the storm-giant who having been born in deformity was ever seeking golden apples from Idun to cure his ugliness. Upon one occasion assuming the form of an eagle he interrupted a feast of Odin, Honer and Loke and when the latter attempted to strike the voracious bird with a stake found himself fastened to both stake and eagle and was borne away shrieking for mercy. Thjasse promised to release Loke if he would bring to him Idun and her golden apples. Loke in fulfillment of his promise beguiled Idun out of Asgard whereupon Thjasse in the form of an eagle seized the goddess in his talons and bore her away to his castle, Thrymheim. He was soon afterwards killed by the gods, and Idun was released.] Idun, who possesses "the Asas' remedy against old age," and keeps the apples which symbolise the ever-renewing and rejuvenating force of nature, is carried away by Thjasse to a part of the world inaccessible to the gods. The gods grow old, and winter extends its power more and more beyond the limits prescribed for it in creation. Thjasse, who before was the friend of the gods, is now their irreconcilable foe. He who was the promoter of growth and the benefactor of nature--for Sif's golden locks, and Skidbladner, belonging to the god of fertility, doubtless are symbols thereof--is changed into "the mightiest foe of earth," _dolg ballastan vallar_ (Haustl., 6), and has wholly assumed the nature of a giant. At the same time, with the approach of the great winter, a terrible earthquake takes place, the effects of which are felt even in heaven. The myth in regard to this is explained in No. 81. In this explanation the reader will find that the great earthquake in primeval time is caused by Thjasse's kinswomen on his mother's side (the Grotte-song)--that is, by the giantesses Fenja and Menja, who turned the enormous world-mill, built on the foundations of the lower world, and working in the depths of the sea, the prototype of the mill of the Grotte-song composed in Christian times; that the world-mill has a _möndull_, the mill-handle, which sweeps the uttermost rim of the earth, with which handle not only the mill-stone but also the starry heavens are made to whirl round; and that when the mill was put in so violent a motion by the angry giantesses that it got out of order, then the starry constellations were also disturbed. The ancient terrible winter and the inclination of the axis of heaven have in the myth been connected, and these again with the close of the golden age. The mill had up to this time ground gold, happiness, peace, and good-will among men; henceforth it grinds salt and dust. The winter must of course first of all affect those people who inhabited the extensive Svithiod north of the original country and over which another kinsman of Heimdal, the first of the race of Skilfings or Ynglings, ruled. This kinsman of Heimdal has an important part in the mythology, and thereof we shall give an account in Nos. 89, 91, 110, 113-115, and 123. It is there found that he is the same as Ivalde, who, with a giantess, begot the illegitimate children Ide, Urner, and Thjasse. Already before his sons he became the foe of the gods, and from Svithiod now proceeds, in connection with the spreading of the fimbul-winter, a migration southward, the work at the same time of the Skilfings and the primeval artists. The list of dwarfs in Völuspa has preserved the record of this in the strophe about the artist migration from the rocks of the hall (_Salar steinar_) and from Svarin's mound situated in the north (the Völuspa strophe quoted in the Younger Edda; cp. Saxo., _Hist._, 32, 33, and Helg. Hund., i. 31, ii. to str. 14). The attack is directed against _aurvanga sjöt_, the land of the clayey plains, and the assailants do not stop before they reach _Jöruvalla_ the Jara plains, which name is still applied to the south coast of Scandinavia (see No. 32). In the pedigree of these emigrants-- their er sóttu frà Salar steina (or Svarins haugi) aurvanga sjot til Jöruvalla-- occur the names _Álfr_ and _Yngvi_, who have Skilfing names; _Fjalarr_, who is Ivalde's ally and Odin's enemy (see No. 89); _Finnr_, which is one of the several names of Ivalde himself (see No. 123); _Frosti_, who symbolises cold; _Skirfir_, a name which points to the Skilfings; and _Virfir_, whom Saxo (_Hist. Dan._, 178, 179) speaks of as _Huyrvillus_, and the Icelandic records as _Virvill_ and _Vifill_ (Fornalders. ii. 8; Younger Edda, i. 548). In Fornalders. Vifill is an emigration leader who married to Loge's daughter _Eymyrja_ (a metaphor for fire--Younger Edda, ii. 570), betakes himself from the far North and takes possession of an island on the Swedish coast. That this island is Oland is clear from Saxo, 178, where Huyrvillus is called _Holandiæ princeps_. At the same time a brother-in-law of Virfir takes possession of Bornholm, and Gotland is colonised by Thjelvar (_Thjálfi_ of the myth), who is the son of Thjasse's brother (see Nos. 113, 114, 115). _Virfir_ is allied with the sons of _Finnr_ (_Fyn_--Saxo, _Hist._, 178). The saga concerning the emigration of the Longobardians is also connected with the myth about Thjasse and his kinsmen (see Nos. 112-115). From all this it appears that a series of emigration and colonisation tales have their origin in the myth concerning the fimbul-winter caused by Thjasse and concerning the therewith connected attack by the Skilfings and Thjasse's kinsmen on South Scandinavia, that is, on the clayey plains near Jaravall, where the second son of Heimdal, Skjold-Borgar, rules. It is the remembrance of this migration from north to south which forms the basis of all the Teutonic middle-age migration sagas. The migration saga of the Goths, as Jordanes heard it, makes them emigrate from Scandinavia under the leadership of Berig. (_Ex hac igitur Scandza insula quasi officina gentium aut certe velut vagina nationum cum rege suo Berig Gothi quondam memorantur egressi--De Goth. Orig., c. 4. Meminisse debes, me de Scandzæ insulæ gremio Gothos dixisse egressos cum Berich suo rege_--c. 17.) The name Berig, also written Berich and Berigo, is the same as the German Berker, Berchtung, and indicates the same person as the Norse _Borgarr_. With Berig is connected the race of the Amalians; with Borgar the memory of Hamal (Amala), who is the foster-brother of Borgar's son (cp. No. 28 with Helge Hund., ii.). Thus the emigration of the Goths is in the myth a result of the fate experienced by Borgar and his people in their original country. And as the Swedes constituted the northernmost Teutonic branch, they were the ones who, on the approach of the fimbul-winter, were the first that were compelled to surrender their abodes and secure more southern habitations. This also appears from saga fragments which have been preserved; and here, but not in the circumstances themselves, lies the explanation of the statements, according to which the Swedes forced Scandinavian tribes dwelling farther south to emigrate. Jordanes (c. 3) claims that the Herulians were driven from their abode in Scandza by the Svithidians, and that the Danes are of Svithidian origin--in other words, that an older Teutonic population in Denmark was driven south, and that Denmark was repeopled by emigrants from Sweden. And in the Norse sagas themselves, the centre of gravity, as we have seen, is continually being moved farther to the south. Heimdal, under the name Scef-Skelfir, comes to the original inhabitants in Scania. Borgar, his son, becomes a ruler there, but founds, under the name Skjold, the royal dynasty of the Skjoldungs in Denmark. With Scef and Skjold the Wessex royal family of Saxon origin is in turn connected, and thus the royal dynasty of the Goths is again connected with the Skjold who emigrated from Scandza, and who is identical with Borgar. And finally there existed in Saxo's time mythic traditions or songs which related that all the present Germany came under the power of the Teutons who emigrated with Borgar; that, in other words, the emigration from the North carried with it the hegemony of Teutonic tribes over other tribes which before them inhabited Germany. Saxo says of Skjold-Borgar that _omnem Alamannorum gentem tributaria ditione perdomuit_; that is, "he made the whole race of Alamanni tributary." The name Alamanni is in this case not to be taken in an ethnographical but in a geographical sense. It means the people who were rulers in Germany before the immigration of Teutons from the North. From this we see that migration traditions remembered by Teutons beneath Italian and Icelandic skies, on the islands of Great Britain and on the German continent, in spite of their wide diffusion and their separation in time, point to a single root: to the myth concerning the primeval artists and their conflict with the gods; to the robbing of Idun and the fimbul-winter which was the result. The myth makes the gods themselves to be seized by terror at the fate of the world, and Mimer makes arrangements to save all that is best and purest on earth for an expected regeneration of the world. At the very beginning of the fimbul-winter Mimer opens in his subterranean grove of immortality an asylum, closed against all physical and spiritual evil, for the two children of men, Lif and Lifthrasir (Vafthr., 45), who are to be the parents of a new race of men (see Nos. 52, 53). The war begun in Borgar's time for the possession of the ancient country continues under his son Halfdan, who reconquers it for a time, invades Svithiod, and repels Thjasse and his kinsmen (see Nos. 32, 33). [Footnote 14: Elsewhere it shall be shown that the heroes mentioned in the middle age poetry under the names Valdere, Walther, Waltharius manufortis, and Valthere of Vaskasten are all variations of the name of the same mythic type changed into a human hero, and the same, too, as Ivalde of the Norse documents (see No. 123).] 29. EVIDENCE THAT HALFDAN IS IDENTICAL WITH HELGE HUNDINGSBANE. The main outlines of Halfdan's saga reappears related as history, and more or less blended with foreign elements, in Saxo's accounts of the kings Gram, Halfdan Berggram, and Halfdan Borgarson (see No. 23). Contributions to the saga are found in Hyndluljod (str. 14, 15, 16) and in Skaldskaparmal (Younger Edda, i. 516 ff.), in what they tell about Halfdan Skjoldung and Halfdan the Old. The juvenile adventures of the hero have, with some modifications, furnished the materials for both the songs about Helge Hundingsbane, with which Saxo's story of Helgo Hundingicida (_Hist._, 80-110) and Volsungasaga's about Helge Sigmundson are to be compared. The Grotte-song also (str. 22) identifies Helge Hundingsbane with Halfdan. For the history of the origin of the existing heroic poems from mythic sources, of their relation to these and to each other, it is important to get the original identity of the hero-myth, concerning Halfdan and the heroic poems concerning Helge Hundingsbane, fixed on a firm foundation. The following parallels suffice to show that this Helge is a later time's reproduction of the mythic Halfdan: Halfdan-Gram, sent on a Helge Hundingsbane, sent warlike expedition, meets on a warlike expedition, Groa, who is mounted on meets Sigrun, who is mounted horseback and accompanied on horseback and is accompanied by other women on horseback by other women (Saxo, 26, 27). on horseback (Helge Hund., i. 16; Volsungasaga, c. 9). The meeting takes place in The meeting takes place in a forest (Saxo, 26). a forest (Vols., c. 9). Halfdan-Gram is on the Helge is on the occasion occasion completely wrapped disguised. He speaks frá in the skin of a wild beast, so úlfidi "from a wolf guise" that even his face is concealed (Helge Hund., i. 16), which (Saxo, 26). expression finds its interpretation in Saxo, where Halfdan appears wrapped in the skin of a wild beast. Conversation is begun between Conversation is begun between Halfdan-Gram and Helge and Sigrun. Groa. Halfdan pretends to be Helge pretends to be a person a person who is his brother-at-arms who is his foster-brother (Saxo, 27). (Helge Hund., ii. 6). Groa asks Halfdan-Gram: Sigrun asks Helge: Quis, rogo, vestrum Hverir lata fljota dirigit agmen, fley vid backa, quo duce signa hvar hermegir bellica fertis? heima eigud? (Saxo, 27.) (Helge Hund., ii. 5.) Halfdan-Gram invites Groa Helge invites Sigrun to to accompany him. At first accompany him. At first the the invitation is refused invitation is rebuked (Helge (Saxo, 27). Hund., i. 16, 17). Groa's father had already Sigrun's father had already given her hand to another promised her to another (Saxo, 26). (Helge Hund., i. 18). Halfdan-Gram explains Helge explains that this that this rival ought not to rival should not cause them to cause them to fear (Saxo, 28). fear (Helge Hund., i., ii.). Halfdan-Gram makes war Helge makes war on Sigrun's on Groa's father, on his rival, father, on his rival, and and on the kinsmen of the latter on the kinsmen of the latter (Saxo, 32). (Helge Hund., i., ii.). Halfdan-Gram slays Groa's Helge kills Sigrun's father father and betrothed, and and suitors, and many heroes many heroes who belonged to who were the brothers or his circle of kinsmen or were allies of his rival (Helge subject to him (Saxo, 32). Hund., ii.). Halfdan-Gram marries Groa Helge marries Sigrun (Helge (Saxo, 33). Hund., i. 56). Halfdan-Gram conquers a Helge conquers Ring's sons king Ring (Saxo, 32). (Helge Hund., i. 52). Borgar's son has defeated Helge has slain king Hunding, and slain king Hunding and thus gotten the (Saxo, 362; cp. Saxo, 337). name Hundingsbane (Helge Hund., i. 10). Halfdan-Gram has felled Helge's rival and the many Svarin and many of his brothers. brothers of the latter dwell Svarin was viceroy under around Svarin's grave-mound. Groa's father (Saxo, 32). They are allies or subjects of Sigrun's father. Halfdan-Gram is slain by Helge is slain by Dag, who Svipdag, who is armed with is armed with an Asgard an Asgard weapon (Saxo, 34, weapon (Helge Hund., ii.). to be compared with other sources. See Nos. 33, 98, 101, 103). Halfdan-Berggram's father Helge's father was slain by is slain by his brother Frode, his brother Frode, who took who took his kingdom (Saxo, his kingdom (Rolf Krake's 320). saga). Halfdan Berggram and his Helge and his brother were brother were in their childhood in their childhood protected protected by Regno by Regin (Rolf Krake's saga). (Saxo, 320). Halfdan Berggram and his Helge and his brothers brother burnt Frode to death burnt Frode to death in his in his house (Saxo, 323). house (Rolf Krake's saga). Halfdan Berggram as a Helge Hundingsbane as a youth left the kingdom to his youth left the kingdom to his brother and went warfaring brother and went warfaring (Saxo, 320 ff). (Saxo, 80). During Halfdan's absence During Helge Hundingsbane's Denmark is attacked by an absence Denmark is attacked enemy, who conquers his by an enemy, who conquers brother in three battles and his brother in three slays him in a fourth (Saxo, battles and slays him in a 325). fourth (Saxo, 82). Halfdan, the descendant of Helge Hundingsbane became Scef and Scyld, becomes the the father of Rolf father of Rolf (Beowulf (Saxo, 83; compare Rolf poem). Krake's saga). Halfdan had a son with his Helge Hundingsbane had a own sister Yrsa (Grotte-song, son with his own sister Ursa 22; mon Yrsu sonr vid Half-dana (Saxo, 82). The son was Rolf hefna Froda; sa mun (compare Rolf Krake's saga). hennar heitinn vertha börr oc bróthir). A glance at these parallels is sufficient to remove every doubt that the hero in the songs concerning Helge Hundingsbane is originally the same mythic person as is celebrated in the song or songs from which Saxo gathered his materials concerning the kings, Gram Skjoldson, Halfdan Berggram, and Halfdan Borgarson. It is the ancient myth in regard to Halfdan, the son of Skjold-Borgar, which myth, after the introduction of Christianity in Scandinavia, is divided into two branches, of which the one continues to be the saga of this patriarch, while the other utilises the history of his youth and transforms it into a new saga, that of Helge Hundingsbane. In Saxo's time, and long before him, this division into two branches had already taken place. How this younger branch, Helge Hundingsbane's saga, was afterwards partly appropriated by the all-absorbing Sigurdsaga and became connected with it in an external and purely genealogical manner, and partly did itself appropriate (as in Saxo) the old Danish local tradition about Rolf, the illegitimate son of Halfdan Skjoldung, and, in fact, foreign to his pedigree; how it got mixed with the saga about an evil Frode and his stepsons, a saga with which it formerly had no connection;--all these are questions which I shall discuss fully in a second part of this work, and in a separate treatise on the heroic sagas. For the present, my task is to show what influence this knowledge of Halfdan and Helge Hundingsbane's identity has upon the interpretation of the myth concerning the antiquity of the Teutons. 30. HALFDAN'S BIRTH AND THE END OF THE AGE OF PEACE. THE FAMILY NAMES YLFING, HILDING, BUDLUNG. The first strophes of the first song of Helge Hundingsbane distinguish themselves in tone and character and broad treatment from the continuation of the song, and have clearly belonged to a genuine old mythic poem about Halfdan, and without much change the compiler of the Helge Hundingsbane song has incorporated them into his poem. They describe Halfdan's ("Helge Hundingsbane's") birth. The real mythic names of his parents, Borgar and Drott, have been retained side by side with the names given by the compiler, Sigmund and Borghild. Ar var alda; It was time's morning, that er arar gullo, eagles screeched, hnigo heilog votn holy waters fell af himinfjollum; from the heavenly mountains. thá hafthi Helga Then was the mighty inn hugom stora Helge born Borghildr borit by Borghild i Bralundi. in Bralund. Nott varth i boe, It was night, nornir qvomo, norns came, ther er authlingi they who did shape aldr urn scopo; the fate of the nobleman; thann batho fylci they proclaimed him frægstan vertha best among Budlungs, oc buthlunga and most famed beztan ticcia. among princes. Snero ther af afli With all their might the threads aurlaugthátto, of fate they twisted, tha er Borgarr braut when Borgar settled i Brálundi; in Bralund; ther um greiddo of gold they made gullin simo the warp of the web, oc und manasal and fastened it directly mithian festo. 'neath the halls of the moon. ther austr oc vestr In the east and west enda fálo: they hid the ends: thar átti lofdungr there between land a milli; the chief should rule; brá nipt Nera Nere's[15] kinswoman a nordrevega northward sent einni festi one thread and bade it ey bath hon halda. hold for ever. Eitt var at angri One cause there was Ylfinga nith of alarm to the Yngling (Borgar), oc theirre meyio and also for her er nunuth fæddi; who bore the loved one. hrafn gvath at hrafni Hungry cawed --sat a hám meithi raven to raven andvanr áto:-- in the high tree: "Ec veit noccoth! "Hear what I know! "Stendr i brynio "In coat of mail burr Sigmundar, stands Sigmund's son, doegrs eins gamall, one day old, nu er dagr kominn; now the day is come; hversir augo sharp eyes of the Hildings sem hildingar, has he, and the wolves' sa er varga vinr, friend he becomes, vith scolom teitir." We shall thrive." Drótt thotti sa Drott, it is said, saw dauglingr vera In him a dayling,[16] quado meth gumnom saying, "Now are good seasons god-ár kominn; come among men;" sialfr gecc visi to the young lord or vig thrimo from thunder-strife ungum færa came the chief himself itrlauc grami. with a glorious flower. Halfdan's ("Helge Hundingsbane's") birth occurs, according to the contents of these strophes, when two epochs meet. His arrival announces the close of the peaceful epoch and the beginning of an age of strife, which ever since has reigned in the world. His significance in this respect is distinctly manifest in the poem. The raven, to whom the battle-field will soon be as a wellspread table, is yet suffering from hunger (_andvanr átu_); but from the high tree in which it sits, it has on the day after the birth of the child, presumably through the window, seen the newcomer, and discovered that he possessed "the sharp eyes of the Hildings," and with prophetic vision it has already seen him clad in coat of mail. It proclaims its discovery to another raven in the same tree, and foretells that theirs and the age of the wolves has come: "We shall thrive." The parents of the child heard and understood what the raven said. Among the runes which Heimdal, Borgar's father, taught him, and which the son of the latter in time learned, are the knowledge of bird-speech (_Konr ungr klök nam fugla_--Rigsthula, 43, 44). The raven's appearance in the song of Helge Hundingsbane is to be compared with its relative the crow in Rigsthula; the one foretells that the new-born one's path of life lies over battle-fields, the other urges the grown man to turn away from his peaceful amusements. Important in regard to a correct understanding of the song, and characteristic of the original relation of the strophes quoted to the myth concerning primeval time, is the circumstance that Halfdan's ("Helge Hundingsbane's") parents are not pleased with the prophecies of the raven; on the contrary they are filled with alarm. Former interpreters have been surprised at this. It has seemed to them that the prophecy of the lad's future heroic and blood-stained career ought, in harmony with the general spirit pervading the old Norse literature, to have awakened the parents' joy and pride. But the matter is explained by the mythic connection which makes Borgars' life constitute the transition period from a happy and peaceful golden age to an age of warfare. With all their love of strife and admiration for warlike deeds, the Teutons still were human, and shared with all other people the opinion that peace and harmony is something better and more desirable than war and bloodshed. Like their Aryan kinsmen, they dreamed of primeval _Saturnia regna_, and looked forward to a regeneration which is to restore the reign of peace. Borgar, in the myth, established the community, was the legislator and judge. He was the hero of peaceful deeds, who did not care to employ weapons except against wild beasts and robbers. But the myth had also equipped him with courage and strength, the necessary qualities for inspiring respect and interest, and had given him abundant opportunity for exhibiting these qualities in the promotion of culture and the maintenance of the sacredness of the law. Borgar was the Hercules of the northern myth, who fought with the gigantic beasts and robbers of the olden time. Saxo (_Hist._, 23) has preserved the traditions which tell how he at one time fought breast to breast with a giant bear, conquering him and bringing him fettered into his own camp. As is well known, the family names Ylfings, Hildings, Budlungs, &c., have in the poems of the Christian skalds lost their specific application to certain families, and are applied to royal and princely warriors in general. This is in perfect analogy with the Christian Icelandic poetry, according to which it is proper to take the name of any viking, giant, or dwarf, and apply it to any special viking, giant, or dwarf, a poetic principle which scholars even of our time claim can also be applied in the interpretation of the heathen poems. In regard to the old Norse poets this method is, however, as impossible as it would be in Greek poetry to call Odysseus a Peleid, or Achilleus a Laertiatid, or Prometheus Hephæstos, or Hephæstos Dædalos. The poems concerning Helge Hundingsbane are compiled in Christian times from old songs about Borgar's son Halfdan, and we find that the patronymic appellations Ylfing, Hilding, Budlung, and Lofdung are copiously strewn on "Helge Hundingsbane." But, so far as the above-quoted strophes are concerned, it can be shown that the appellations Ylfing, Hilding, and Budlung are in fact old usage and have a mythic foundation. The German poem "Wolfdieterich und Sabin" calls Berchtung (Borgar) Potelung--that is, Budlung; the poem "Wolfdieterich" makes Berchtung the progenitor of the Hildings, and adds: "From the same race the Ylfings have come to us"--_von dem selbe geslehte sint uns die wilfinge kumen_ (v. 223). Saxo mentions the Hilding Hildeger as Halfdan's half-brother, and the traditions on which the saga of Asmund Kæmpebane is based has done the same (compare No. 43). The agreement in this point between German, Danish, and Icelandic statements points to an older source common to them all, and furnishes an additional proof that the German Berchtung occupied in the mythic genælogies precisely the same place as the Norse Borgar. That Thor is one of Halfdan's fathers, just as Heimdal is one of Borgar's, has already been pointed out above (see No. 25). To a divine common fatherhood point the words: "Drott it is said, saw in him (the lad just born) a dayling (son of a god of light), a son divine." Who the divine partner-father is, is indicated by the fact that a storm has broken out the night when Drott's son is born. There is a thunder-strife _vig thrimo_, the eagles screech, and holy waters fall from the heavenly mountains (from the clouds). The god of thunder is present, and casts his shadow over the house where the child is born. [Footnote 15: Urd, the chief goddess of fate. See the treatise "Mythen om Under-jorden."] [Footnote 16: _Dayling_ = bright son of day or light.] 31. HALFDAN'S CHARACTER. THE WEAPON-MYTH. The myths and heroic poems are not wanting in ideal heroes, who are models of goodness of heart, justice, and the most sensitive nobleness. Such are, for example, the Asa-god Balder, his counter part among heroes, Helge Hjorvardson, Beowulf, and, to a certain degree also, Sigurd Fafnesbane. Halfdan did not belong to this group. His part in the myth is to be the personal representative of the strife-age that came with him, of an age when the inhabitants of the earth are visited by the great winter and by dire misfortunes, when the demoralisation of the world has begun along with disturbances in nature and when the words already are applicable, "_hart er i heimi_" (hard is the world). Halfdan is guilty of the abduction of a woman--the old custom of taking a maid from her father by violence or cunning is illustrated in his saga. It follows, however, that the myth at the same time embellished him with qualities which made him a worthy Teutonic patriarch, and attractive to the hearers of the songs concerning him. These qualities are, besides the necessary strength and courage, the above-mentioned knowledge of runes, wherein he even surpasses his father (Rigsth.), great skaldic gifts (Saxo, _Hist._, 325), a liberality which makes him love to strew gold about him (Helge Hund., i. 9), and an extraordinary, fascinating physical beauty--which is emphasised by Saxo (_Hist._, 30), and which is also evident from the fact that the Teutonic myth makes him, as the Greek myth makes Achilleus, on one occasion don a woman's attire, and resemble a valkyrie in this guise (Helge Hund., ii.). No doubt the myth also described him as the model of a faithful foster-brother in his relations to the silent Hamal, who externally was so like him that the one could easily be taken for the other (cp. Helge Hund., ii. 1, 6). In all cases it is certain that the myth made the foster-brotherhood between Halfdan and Hamal the basis of the unfailing fidelity with which Hamal's descendants, the Amalians, cling to the son of Halfdan's favourite Hadding, and support his cause even amid the most difficult circumstances (see Nos. 42, 43). The abduction of a woman by Halfdan is founded in the physical interpretation of the myth, and can thus be justified. The wife he takes by force is the goddess of vegetation, Groa, and he does it because her husband Orvandel has made a compact with the powers of frost (see Nos. 33, 38, 108, 109). There are indications that our ancestors believed the sword to be a later invention than the other kinds of weapons, and that it was from the beginning under a curse. The first and most important of all sword-smiths was, according to the myth, Thjasse,[17] who accordingly is called _fadir mörna_, the father of the swords (Haustlaung, Younger Edda, 306). The best sword made by him is intended to make way for the destruction of the gods (see Nos. 33, 98, 101, 103). After various fortunes it comes into the possession of Frey, but is of no service to Asgard. It is given to the parents of the giantess Gerd, and in Ragnarok it causes the death of Frey. Halfdan had two swords, which his mother's father, for whom they were made, had buried in the earth, and his mother long kept the place of concealment secret from him. The first time he uses one of them he slays in a duel his noble half-brother Hildeger, fighting on the side of the Skilfings, without knowing who he is (cp. Saxo, _Hist._, 351, 355, 356, with Asmund Kæmpebane's saga). Cursed swords are several times mentioned in the sagas. Halfdan's weapon, which he wields successfully in advantageous exploits, is in fact, the club (Saxo, _Hist._, 26, 31, 323, 353). That the Teutonic patriarch's favourite weapon is the club, not the sword; that the latter, later, in his hand, sheds the blood of a kinsman; and that he himself finally is slain by the sword forged by Thjasse, and that, too, in conflict with a son (the stepson Svipdag--see below), I regard as worthy of notice from the standpoint of the views cherished during some of the centuries of the Teutonic heathendom in regard to the various age and sacredness of the different kinds of weapons. That the sword also at length was looked upon as sacred is plain from the fact that it was adopted and used by the Asa-gods. In Ragnarok, Vidar is to avenge his father with a _hjörr_ and pierce Fafner's heart (_Völuspa_). _Hjörr_ may, it is true, also mean a missile, but still it is probable that it, in Vidar's hand, means a sword. The oldest and most sacred weapons were the spear, the hammer, the club, and the axe. The spear which, in the days of Tacitus, and much later, was the chief weapon both for foot-soldiers and cavalry in the Teutonic armies, is wielded by the Asa-father himself, whose Gungner was forged for him by Ivalde's sons before the dreadful enmity between the gods and them had begun. The hammer is Thor's most sacred weapon. Before Sindre forged one for him of iron (Gylfaginning), he wielded a hammer of stone. This is evident from the very name _hamarr_, a rock, a stone. The club is, as we have seen, the weapon of the Teutonic patriarch, and is wielded side by side with Thor's hammer in the conflict with the powers of frost. The battle-axe belonged to Njord. This is evident from the metaphors found in the Younger Edda, p. 346, and in Islend. Saga, 9. The mythological kernel in the former metaphor is _Njördrklauf Herjan's hurdir_, _i.e._, "_Njord_ cleaved Odin's gates" (when the Vans conquered Asgard); in the other the battle-axe is called _Gaut's megin-hurdar galli_, _i.e._, "the destroyer of Odin's great gate." The bow is a weapon employed by the Asa-gods _Hödr_ and _Ullr_, but Balder is slain by a shot from the bow, and the chief archer of the myth is, as we shall see, not an Asa-god, but a brother of Thjasse. (Further discussion of the weapon-myth will be found in No. 39.) [Footnote 17: Proofs of Thjasse's original identity with Volund are given in Nos. 113-115.] 32. HALFDAN'S CONFLICTS INTERPRETED AS MYTHS OF NATURE. THE WAR WITH THE HEROES FROM SVARIN'S MOUND. HALFDAN'S MARRIAGE WITH DISES OF VEGETATION. In regard to the significance of the conflicts awaiting Halfdan, and occupying his whole life, when interpreted as myths of nature, we must remember that he inherits from his father the duty of stopping the progress southward of the giant-world's wintry agents, the kinsmen of Thjasse, and of the Skilfing (Yngling) tribes dwelling in the north. The migration sagas have, as we have seen, shown that Borgar and his people had to leave the original country and move south to Denmark, Saxland, and to those regions on the other side of the Baltic in which the Goths settled. For a time the original country is possessed by the conquerors who according to Völuspa, "from Svarin's Mound attacked and took (_sótti_) the clayey plains as far as Jaravall." But Halfdan represses them. That the words quoted from Völuspa really refer to the same mythic persons with whom Halfdan afterwards fights is proved by the fact that Svarin and Svarin's Mound are never named in our documents except in connection with Halfdan's saga. In Saxo it is Halfdan-Gram who slays Svarin and his numerous brothers; in the saga of "Helge Hundingsbane" it is again Halfdan, under the name Helge, who attacks tribes dwelling around Svarin's Mound, and conquers them. To this may be added, that the compiler of the first song about Helge Hundingsbane borrowed from the saga-original, on which the song is based, names which point to the Völuspa strophe concerning the attack on the south Scandinavian plains. In the category of names, or the genealogy of the aggressors, occur, as has been shown already, the Skilfing names Alf and Yngve. Thus also in the Helge-song's list of persons with whom the conflict is waged in the vicinity of Svarin's Mound. In the Vö1uspa's list Moinn is mentioned among the aggressors (in the variation in the Prose Edda); in the Helge-song, strophe 46, it is said that Helge-Halfdan fought _á Móinsheimom_ against his brave foes, whom he afterwards slew in the battle around Svarin's Mound. In the Völuspa's list is named among the aggressors one _Haugspori_, "the one spying from the mound"; in the Helge-song is mentioned _Sporvitnir_, who from Svarin's Mound watches the forces of Helge-Halfdan advancing. I have already (No. 28B), pointed out several other names which occur in the Völuspa list, and whose connection with the myth concerning the artists, frost-giants, and Skilfings of antiquity and their attack on the original country, can be shown. The physical significance of Halfdan's conflicts and adventures is apparent also from the names of the women, whom the saga makes him marry. Groa (grow), whom he robs and keeps for some time, is, as her very name indicates, a goddess of vegetation. Signe-Alveig, whom he afterwards marries, is the same. Her name signifies "the nourishing drink." According to Saxo she is the daughter of Sumblus, Latin for _Sumbl_, which means feast, ale, mead, and is a synonym for _Ölvaldi_, _Ölmódr_, names which belonged to the father of the Ivalde sons (see No. 123). According to a well-supported statement in Forspjallsljod (see No. 123), Ivalde was the father of two groups of children. The mother of one of these groups is a giantess (see Nos. 113, 114, 115). With her he has three sons, viz., the three famous artists of antiquity--Ide, Gang-Urnir, and Thjasse. The mother of the other group is a goddess of light (see No. 123). With her he has daughters, who are goddesses of growth, among them Idun and Signe-Alveig. That Idun is the daughter of Ivalde is clear from Forspjallsljod (6), _álfa ættar Ithunni hèto Ivallds ellri ýngsta barna_. Of the names of their father _Sumbl_, _Ölvaldi_, _Ölmódr_, it may be said that, as nature-symbols, "öl" (ale) and "mjöd" (mead), are in the Teutonic mythology identical with _soma_ and _somamadhu_ in Rigveda and _haoma_ in Avesta, that is, they are the strength-developing, nourishing saps in nature. Mimer's subterranean well, from which the world-tree draws its nourishment, is a mead-fountain. In the poem "Haustlaung" Idun is called _Ölgefn_; in the same poem Groa is called _Ölgefion_. Both appellations refer to goddesses who give the drink of growth and regeneration to nature and to the gods. Thus we here have a family, the names and epithets of whose members characterise them as forces, active in the service of nature and of the god of harvests. Their names and epithets also point to the family bond which unites them. We have the group of names, _Idvaldi_, _Idi_, _Idunn_, and the group, _Ölvaldi_ (_Ölmódr_), _Ölgefn_, and _Ölgefion_, both indicating members of the same family. Further on (see Nos. 113, 114, 115), proof shall be presented that Groa's first husband, Orvandel the brave, is one of Thjasse's brothers, and thus that Groa, too, was closely connected with this family. As we know, it is the enmity caused by Loke between the Asa-gods and the lower serving, yet powerful, divinities of nature belonging to the Ivalde group, which produces the terrible winter with its awful consequences for man, and particularly for the Teutonic tribes. These hitherto beneficent agents of growth have ceased to serve the gods, and have allied themselves with the frost-giants. The war waged by Halfdan must be regarded from this standpoint. Midgard's chief hero, the real Teutonic patriarch, tries to reconquer for the Teutons the country of which winter has robbed them. To be able to do this, he is the son of Thor, the divine foe of the frost-giants, and performs on the border of Midgard a work corresponding to that which Thor has to do in space and in Jotunheim. And in the same manner as Heimdal before secured favourable conditions of nature to the original country, by uniting the sun-goddess with himself through bonds of love, his grandson Halfdan now seeks to do the same for the Teutonic country, by robbing a hostile son of Ivalde, Orvandel, of his wife Groa, the growth-giver, and thereupon also of Alveig, the giver of the nourishing sap. A symbol of nature may also be found in Saxo's statement, that the king of Svithiod, Sigtrygg, Groa's father, could not be conquered unless Halfdan fastened a golden ball to his club (_Hist._, 31). The purpose of Halfdan's conflicts, the object which the norns particularly gave to his life, that of reconquering from the powers of frost the northernmost regions of the Teutonic territory and of permanently securing them for culture, and the difficulty of this task is indicated, it seems to me, in the strophes above quoted, which tell us that the norns fastened the woof of his power in the east and west, and that he from the beginning, and undisputed, extended the sceptre of his rule over these latitudes, while in regard to the northern latitudes, it is said that Nere's kinswoman, the chief of the norns (see Nos. 57-64, 85), cast a single thread in this direction and _prayed_ that it might hold for ever: ther austr oc vestr enda fâlo, thar átti lofdungr land a milli; brá nipt Nera a nordrvega einni festi, ey bath hon halda. The norns' prayer was heard. That the myth made Halfdan proceed victoriously to the north, even to the very starting-point of the emigration to the south caused by the fimbul-winter, that is to say, to Svarin's Mound, is proved by the statements that he slays Svarin and his brothers, and wins in the vicinity of Svarin's Mound the victory over his opponents, which was for a time decisive. His penetration into the north, when regarded as a nature-myth, means the restoration of the proper change of seasons, and the rendering of the original country and of Svithiod inhabitable. As far as the hero, who secured the "giver of growth" and the "giver of nourishing sap," succeeds with the aid of his father Thor to carry his weapons into the Teutonic lands destroyed by frost, so far spring and summer again extend the sceptre of their reign. The songs about Helge Hundingsbane have also preserved from the myth the idea that Halfdan and his forces penetrating northward by land and by sea are accompanied in the air by "valkyries," "goddesses from the south," armed with helmets, coats of mail, and shining spears, who fight the forces of nature that are hostile to Halfdan, and these valkyries are in their very nature goddesses of growth, from the manes of whose horses falls the dew which gives the power of growth back to the earth and harvests to men. (Cp. Helg. Hund., i. 15, 30; ii., the prose to v. 5, 12, 13, with Helg. Hjörv., 28.) On this account the Swedes, too, have celebrated Halfdan in their songs as their patriarch and benefactor, and according to Saxo they have worshipped him as a divinity, although it was his task to check the advance of the Skilfings to the south. Doubtless it is after this successful war that Halfdan performs the great sacrifice mentioned in Skaldskaparmal, ch. 64, in order that he may retain his royal power for three hundred years. The statement should be compared with what the German poems of the middle ages tell about the longevity of Berchtung-Borgar and other heroes of antiquity. They live for several centuries. But the response Halfdan gets from the powers to whom he sacrificed is that he shall live simply to the age of an old man, and that in his family there shall not for three hundred years be born a woman or a fameless man. 33. REVIEW OF THE SVIPDAG MYTH AND ITS POINTS OF CONNECTION WITH THE MYTH ABOUT HALFDAN (cp. No. 24). When Halfdan secured Groa, she was already the bride of Orvandel the brave, and the first son she bore in Halfdan's house was not his, but Orvandel's. The son's name is Svipdag. He develops into a hero who, like Halfdan himself, is the most brilliant and most beloved of those celebrated in Teutonic songs. We have devoted a special part of this work to him (see Nos. 96-107). There we have given proofs of various mythological facts, which I now already must incorporate with the following series of events in order that the epic thread may not be wanting: (_a_) Groa bears with Halfdan the son Guthorm (Saxo, _Hist._, _Dan._, 34). (_b_) Groa is rejected by Halfdan (Saxo, _Hist. Dan._, 33). She returns to Orvandel, and brings with her her own and his son Svipdag. (_c_) Halfdan marries Signe-Alveig (Hyndluljod, 15; Prose Edda, i. 516; Saxo _Hist._, 33), and with her becomes the father of the son Hadding (Saxo, _Hist. Dan._, 34). (_d_) Groa dies, and Orvandel marries again (Grógaldr, 3). Before her death Groa has told her son that if he needs her help he must go to her grave and invoke her (Grógaldr, 1). (_e_) It is Svipdag's duty to revenge on Halfdan the disgrace done to his mother and the murder of his mother's father Sigtrygg. But his stepmother bids Svipdag seek Menglad, "the one loving ornaments" (Grógaldr, 3). (_f_) Under the weight of these tasks Svipdag goes to his mother's grave, bids her awake from her sleep of death, and from her he receives protecting incantations (Grógaldr, 1). (_g_) Before Svipdag enters upon the adventurous expedition to find Menglad, he undertakes, at the head of the giants, the allies of the Ivaldesons (see Fjölsvinsm, 1, where Svipdag is called _thursathjodar sjólr_), a war of revenge against Halfdan (Saxo, 33 ff., 325; cp. Nos. 102, 103). The host of giants is defeated, and Svipdag, who has entered into a duel with his stepfather, is overcome by the latter. Halfdan offers to spare his life and adopt him as his son. But Svipdag refuses to accept life as a gift from him, and answers a defiant no to the proffered father-hand. Then Halfdan binds him to a tree and leaves him to his fate (Saxo, _Hist._, 325; cp. No. 103). (_h_) Svipdag is freed from his bonds through one of the incantations sung over him by his mother (Grógaldr, 10). (_i_) Svipdag wanders about sorrowing in the land of the giants. Gevarr-Nökkve, god of the moon (see Nos. 90, 91), tells him how he is to find an irresistible sword, which is always attended by victory (see No. 101). The Sword is forged by Thjasse, who intended to destroy the world of the gods with it; but just at the moment when the smith had finished his weapon he was surprised in his sleep by Mimer, who put him in chains and took the sword. The latter is now concealed in the lower world (see Nos. 98, 101, 103). (_j_) Following Gevarr-Nökkve's directions, Svipdag goes to the northernmost edge of the world, and finds there a descent to the lower world; he conquers the guard of the gates of Hades, sees the wonderful regions down there, and succeeds in securing the sword of victory (see Nos. 53, 97, 98, 101, 103, 112). (_k_) Svipdag begins a new war with Halfdan. Thor fights on his son's side, but the irresistible sword cleaves the hammer Mjolner; the Asa-god himself must yield. The war ends with Halfdan's defeat. He dies of the wounds he has received in the battle (see Nos. 101, 103; cp. Saxo, _Hist._, 34). (_l_) Svipdag seeks and finds Menglad, who is Freyja who was robbed by the giants. He liberates her and sends her pure and undefiled to Asgard (see Nos. 96, 98, 100, 102). (_m_) Idun is brought back to Asgard by Loke. Thjasse, who is freed from his prison at Mimer's, pursues, in the guise of an eagle, Loke to the walls of Asgard, where he is slain by the gods (see the Eddas). (_n_) Svipdag, armed with the sword of victory, goes to Asgard, is received joyfully by Freyja, becomes her husband, and presents his sword of victory to Frey. Reconciliation between the gods and the Ivalde race. Njord marries Thjasse's daughter Skade. Orvandel's second son Ull, Svipdag's half-brother (see No. 102), is adopted in Valhal. A sister of Svipdag is married to Forsete (Hyndluljod, 20). The gods honour the memory of Thjasse by connecting his name with certain stars (Harbardsljod, 19). A similar honour had already been paid to his brother Orvandel (Prose Edda). From this series of events we find that, although the Teutonic patriarch finally succumbs in the war which he waged against the Thjasse-race and the frost-powers led by Thjasse's kinsmen, still the results of his work are permanent. When the crisis had reached its culminating point; when the giant hosts of the fimbul-winter had received as their leader the son of Orvandel, armed with the irresistible sword; when Halfdan's fate is settled; when Thor himself, _Midgard's veorr_ (Völusp.), the mighty protector of earth and the human race, must retreat with his lightning hammer broken into pieces, then the power of love suddenly prevails and saves the world. Svipdag, who, under the spell of his deceased mother's incantations from the grave, obeyed the command of his stepmother to find and rescue Freyja from the power of the giants, thereby wins her heart and earns the gratitude of the gods. He has himself learned to love her, and is at last compelled by his longing to seek her in Asgard. The end of the power of the fimbul-winter is marked by Freyja's and Idun's return to the gods, by Thjasse's death, by the presentation of the invincible sword to the god of harvests (Frey), by the adoption of Thjasse's kinsmen, Svipdag, Ull, and Skade in Asgard, and by several marriage ties celebrated in commemoration of the reconciliation between Asgard's gods and the kinsmen of the great artist of antiquity. 34. THE WORLD WAR. ITS CAUSE. THE MURDER OF GULLVEIG-HEIDR. THE VOICE OE COUNSEL BETWEEN THE ASAS AND THE VANS. Thus the peace of the world and the order of nature might seem secured. But it is not long before a new war breaks out, to which the former may be regarded as simply the prelude. The feud, which had its origin in the judgment passed by the gods on Thjasse's gifts, and which ended in the marriage of Svipdag and Freyja, was waged for the purpose of securing again for settlement and culture the ancient domain and Svithiod, where Heimdal had founded the first community. It was confined within the limits of the North Teutonic peninsula, and in it the united powers of Asgard supported the other Teutonic tribes fighting under Halfdan. But the new conflict rages at the same time in heaven and in earth, between the divine clans of the Asas and the Vans, and between all the Teutonic tribes led into war with each other by Halfdan's sons. From the standpoint of Teutonic mythology it is a world war; and Völuspa calls it _the first great war in the world--folcvig fyrst i heimi_ (str. 21, 25). Loke was the cause of the former prelusive war. His feminine counterpart and ally _Gullveig-Heidr_, who gradually is blended, so to speak, into one with him, causes the other. This is apparent from the following Völuspa strophes: Str. 21. That man hon folcvig fyrst i heimi er Gullveig geirum studdu oc i haull Hárs hana brendo. Str. 22. Thrysvar brendo thrysvar borna opt osialdan tho hon en lifir. Str. 23. Heida hana heto hvars til husa com vólo velspá vitti hon ganda seid hon kuni seid hon Leikin, e var hon angan illrar brudar. Str. 24. Thá gengo regin oll a raukstola ginheilog god oc um that gettuz hvart scyldo esir afrad gialda etha scyldo godin aull gildi eiga. Str. 25. Fleygde Odin oc i folc um scáut that var en folcvig fyrst i heimi. Brotin var bordvegr borgar asa knatto vanir vigspa vollo sporna. The first thing to be established in the interpretation of these strophes is the fact that they, in the order in which they are found in Codex Regius, and in which I have given them, all belong together and refer to the same mythic event--that is, to the origin of the great world war. This is evident from a comparison of strophe 21 with 25, the first and last of those quoted. Both speak of the war, which is called _fólkvig fyrst i heimi_. The former strophe informs us that it occurred as a result of, and in connection with, the murder of Gulveig, a murder committed in Valhal itself, in the hall of the Asa-father, beneath the roof where the gods of the Asa-clan are gathered around their father. The latter strophe tells that the first great war in the world produced a separation between the two god-clans, the Asas and Vans, a division caused by the fact that Odin, hurling his spear, interrupted a discussion between them; and the strophe also explains the result of the war: the bulwark around Asgard was broken, and the Vans got possession of the power of the Asas. The discussion or council is explained in strophe 24. It is there expressly emphasised that all the gods, the Asas and Vans, _regin oll, godin aull_, solemnly assemble and seat themselves on their _raukstola_ to counsel together concerning the murder of _Gullveig-Heidr_. Strophe 23 has already described who Gulveig is, and thus given at least one reason for the hatred of the Asas towards her, and for the treatment she receives in Odin's hall. It is evident that she was in Asgard under the name Gulveig, since Gulveig was killed and burnt in Valhal; but Midgard, the abode of man, has also been the scene of her activity. There she has roamed about under the name Heidr, practising the evil arts of black sorcery (see No. 27) and encouraging the evil passions of mankind: _æ var hon angan illrar brudar_. Hence Gulveig suffers the punishment which from time immemorial was established among the Aryans for the practice of the black art: she was burnt. And her mysteriously terrible and magic nature is revealed by the fact that the flames, though kindled by divine hands, do not have the power over her that they have over other agents of sorcery. The gods burn her thrice; they pierce the body of the witch with their spears, and hold her over the flames of the fire. All is in vain. They cannot prevent her return and regeneration. Thrice burned and thrice born, she still lives. After Völuspa has given an account of the vala who in Asgard was called _Gullveig_ and on earth _Heidr_, the poem speaks, in strophe 24, of the dispute which arose among the gods on account of her murder. The gods assembled on and around the judgment-seats are divided into two parties, of which the Asas constitute the one. The fact that the treatment received by Gulveig can become a question of dispute which ends in enmity between the gods is a proof that only one of the god-clans has committed the murder; and since this took place, not in Njord's, or Frey's, or Freyja's halls, but in Valhal, where Odin rules and is surrounded by his sons, it follows that the Asas must have committed the murder. Of course, Vans who were guests in Odin's hall _might_ have been the perpetrators of the murder; but, on the one hand, the poem would scarcely have indicated Odin's hall as the place where Gulveig was to be punished, unless it wished thereby to point out the Asas as the doers of the deed, and, on the other hand, we cannot conceive the murder as possible, as described in Völuspa, if the Vans were the ones who committed it, and the Asas were Gulveig's protectors; for then the latter, who were the lords in Valhal, would certainly not have permitted the Vans quietly and peaceably to subject Gulveig to the long torture there described, in which she is spitted on spears and held over the flames to be burnt to ashes. That the Asas committed the murder is also corroborated by Völuspa's account of the question in dispute. One of the views prevailing in the consultation and discussion in regard to the matter is that the Asas ought to _afrád gjalda_ in reference to the murder committed. In this _afrád gjalda_ we meet with a phrase which is echoed in the laws of Iceland, and in the old codes of Norway and Sweden. There can be no doubt that the phrase has found its way into the language of the law from the popular vernacular, and that its legal significance was simply more definite and precise than its use in the vernacular. The common popular meaning of the phrase is _to pay compensation_. The compensation may be of any kind whatsoever. It may be rent for the use of another's field, or it may be taxes for the enjoyment of social rights, or it may be death and wounds for having waged war. In the present instance, it must mean compensation to be paid by the Asas for the slaying of _Gullveig-Heidr_. As such a demand could not be made by the Asas themselves, it must have been made by the Vans and their supporters in the discussion. Against this demand we have the proposition from the Asas that all the gods should _gildi eiga_. In regard to this disputed phrase at least so much is clear, that it must contain either an absolute or a partial counter-proposition to the demand of the Vans, and its purpose must be that the Asas ought not--at least, not alone--to pay the compensation for the murder, but that the crime should be regarded as one in reference to which all the gods, the Asas and the Vans, were alike guilty, and as one for which they all together should assume the responsibility. The discussion does not lead to a friendly settlement. Something must have been said at which Odin has become deeply offended, for the Asa-father, distinguished for his wisdom and calmness, hurls his spear into the midst of those deliberating--a token that the contest of reason against reason is at an end, and that it is to be followed by a contest with weapons. The myth concerning this deliberation between Asas and Vans was well known to Saxo, and what he has to say about it (_Hist._, 126 ff.), turning myth as usual into history, should be compared with Völuspa's account, for both these sources complement each other. The first thing that strikes us in Saxo's narrative is that sorcery, the black art, plays, as in Völuspa, the chief part in the chain of events. His account is taken from a mythic circumstance, mentioned by the heathen skald Kormak (_seid Y ggr til Rindar_--Younger Edda, i. 236), according to which Odin, forced by extreme need, sought the favour of Rind, and gained his point by sorcery and witchcraft, as he could not gain it otherwise. According to Saxo, Odin touched Rind with a piece of bark on which he had inscribed magic songs, and the result was that she became insane (_Rinda ... quam Othinus cortice carminibus adnotato contingens lymphanti similem reddidit_). In immediate connection herewith it is related that the gods held a council, in which it was claimed that Odin had stained his divine honour, and ought to be deposed from his royal dignity (_dii ... Othinum variis majestatis detrimentis divinitatis gloriam maculasse cernentes, collegio suo submovendum duxerunt--Hist._, 129). Among the deeds of which his opponents in this council accused him was, as it appears from Saxo, at least one of which he ought to take the consequences, but for which all the gods ought not to be held responsible ( ... _ne vel ipsi, alieno crimine implicati, insontes nocentis crimine punirentur--Hist., 129; in omnium caput unius culpam recidere putares, Hist._, 130). The result of the deliberation of the gods is, in Saxo as in Völuspa, that Odin is banished, and that another clan of gods than his holds the power for some time. Thereupon he is, with the consent of the reigning gods, recalled to the throne, which he henceforth occupies in a brilliant manner. But one of his first acts after his return is to banish the black art and its agents from heaven and from earth (_Hist._, 44). Thus the chain of events in Saxo both begins and ends with sorcery. It is the background on which both in Saxo and in Völuspa those events occur which are connected with the dispute between the Asas and Vans. In both the documents the gods meet in council before the breaking out of the enmity. In both the question turns on a deed done by Odin, for which certain gods do not wish to take the responsibility. Saxo indicates this by the words: _Ne vel ipsi, alieno crimine implicati innocentes nocentis crimine punirentur._ Völuspa indicates it by letting the Vans present, against the proposition that _godin öll skyldu gildi eiga_, the claim that Odin's own clan, and it alone, should _afrád gjalda_. And while Völuspa makes Odin suddenly interrupt the deliberations and hurl his spear among the deliberators, Saxo gives us the explanation of his sudden wrath. He and his clan had slain and burnt Gulveig-Heid because she practised sorcery and other evil arts of witchcraft. And as he refuses to make compensation for the murder and demands that all the gods take the consequences and share the blame, the Vans have replied in council, that he too once practised sorcery on the occasion when he visited Rind, and that, if Gulveig was justly burnt for this crime, then he ought justly to be deposed from his dignity stained by the same crime as the ruler of all the gods. Thus Völuspa's and Saxo's accounts supplement and illustrate each other. _One_ dark point remains, however. Why have the Vans objected to the killing of Gulveig-Heid? Should this clan of gods, celebrated in song as benevolent, useful, and pure, be kindly disposed toward the evil and corrupting arts of witchcraft? This cannot have been the meaning of the myth. As shall be shown, the evil plans of Gulveig-Heid have particularly been directed against those very Vana-gods who in the council demand compensation for her death. In this regard Saxo has in perfect faithfulness toward his mythic source represented Odin on the one hand, and his opponents among the gods on the other, as alike hostile to the black art. Odin, who on one occasion and under peculiar circumstances, which I shall discuss in connection with the Balder myth, was guilty of the practise of sorcery, is nevertheless the declared enemy of witchcraft, and Saxo makes him take pains to forbid and persecute it. The Vans likewise look upon it with horror, and it is this horror which adds strength to their words when they attack and depose Odin, because he has himself practised that for which he has punished Gulveig. The explanation of the fact is, as shall be shown below, that Frey, on account of a passion of which he is the victim (probably through sorcery), was driven to marry the giant maid Gerd, whose kin in that way became friends of the Vans. Frey is obliged to demand satisfaction for a murder perpetrated on a kinswoman of his wife. The kinship of blood demands its sacred right, and according to Teutonic ideas of law, the Vans must act as they do regardless of the moral character of Gulveig. 35. GULVEIG-HEIDR. HER IDENTITY WITH AURBODA, ANGRBODA, HYRROKIN. THE MYTH CONCERNING THE SWORD GUARDIAN AND FJALAR. The duty of the Vana-deities becomes even more plain, if it can be shown that Gulveig-Heid is Gerd's mother; for Frey, supported by the Vana-gods, then demands satisfaction for the murder of his own mother-in-law. Gerd's mother is, in Hyndluljod, 30, called Aurboda, and is the wife of the giant Gymer: Freyr atti Gerdi, Hon vor Gymis dottir, iotna ættar ok Aurbodu. It can, in fact, be demonstrated that Aurboda is identical with Gulveig-Heid. The evidence is given below in two divisions. (a) Evidence that Gulveig-Heid is identical with Angerboda, "the ancient one in the Ironwood;" (b) evidence that Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda is identical with Aurboda, Gerd's mother. (a) Gulveid-Heid identical with Angerboda. Hyndluljod, 40, 41, says: Ol ulf Loki vid Angrbodu, (enn Sleipni gat vid Svadilfara); eitt thotti skars allra feiknazst that var brodur fra Byleistz komit. Loki af hiarta lindi brendu, fann hann haalfsuidinn hugstein konu; vard Loptr kvidugr af konu illri; thadan er aa folldu flagd hvert komit. From the account we see that an evil female being (_ill kona_) had been burnt, but that the flames were not able to destroy the seed of life in her nature. Her heart had not been burnt through or changed to ashes. It was only half-burnt (_hálfsvidinn hugsteinn_), and in this condition it had together with the other remains of the cremated woman been thrown away, for Loke finds and swallows the heart. Our ancestors looked upon the heart as the seat of the life principle, of the soul of living beings. A number of linguistic phrases are founded on the idea that goodness and evil, kindness and severity, courage and cowardice, joy and sorrow, are connected with the character of the heart; sometimes we find _hjarta_ used entirely in the sense of soul, as in the expression _hold ok hjarta_, soul and body. So long as the heart in a dead body had not gone into decay, it was believed that the principle of life dwelling therein still was able, under peculiar circumstances, to operate on the limbs and exercise an influence on its environment, particularly if the dead person in life had been endowed with a will at once evil and powerful. In such cases it was regarded as important to pierce the heart of the dead with a pointed spear (cp. Saxo, _Hist._, 43, and No. 95). The half-burnt heart, accordingly, contains the evil woman's soul, and its influence upon Loke, after he has swallowed it, is most remarkable. Once before when he bore Sleipner with the giant horse Svadilfare, Loke had revealed his androgynous nature. So he does now. The swallowed heart redeveloped the feminine in him (_Loki lindi af brendu hjarta_). It fertilised him with the evil purposes which the heart contained. Loke became the possessor of the evil woman (_kvidugr af konu illri_), and became the father of the children from which the trolls (_flagd_) are come which are found in the world. First among the children is mentioned the wolf, which is called _Fenrir_, and which in Ragnarok shall cause the death of the Asa-father. To this event point Njord's words about Loke, in Lokasenna, str. 33: _ass ragr er hefir born of borit_. The woman possessing the half-burnt heart, who is the mother or rather the father of the wolf, is called Angerboda (_ól ulf Loki vid Angrbodu_). N. M. Peterson and other mythologists have rightly seen that she is the same as "the old one," who in historical times and until Ragnarok dwells in the Ironwood, and "there fosters Fenrer's kinsmen" (Völuspa, 39), her own offspring, which at the close of this period are to issue from the Ironwood, and break into Midgard and dye its citadels with blood (Völuspa, 30). The fact that Angerboda now dwells in the Ironwood, although there on a former occasion did not remain more of her than a half-burnt heart, proves that the attempt to destroy her with fire was unsuccessful, and that she arose again in bodily form after this cremation, and became the mother and nourisher of were-wolves. Thus the myth about Angerboda is identical with the myth about Gulveig-Heid in the two characteristic points: Unsuccessful burning of an evil woman. Her regeneration after the cremation. These points apply equally to Gulveig-Heid and to Angerboda, "the old one in the Ironwood." The myth about Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda, as it was remembered in the first period after the introduction of Christianity, we find in part recapitulated in Helgakvida Hundingsbane, i. 37-40, where Sinfjotle compares his opponent Gudmund with the evil female principle in the heathen mythology, the vala in question, and where Gudmund in return compares Sinfjotle with its evil masculine principle, Loke. Sinfjotle says: Thu vart vaulva i Varinseyio, scollvis kona bartu scrauc saman; * * * * * Thu vart, en scetha, scass valkyria, autul, amátlig at Alfaudar; mundo einherjar allir beriaz, svevis kona, um sakar thinar. Nio attu vith a neri Sagu ulfa alna ec var einn fathir theirra. Gudmund's answer begins: Fadir varattu fenrisulfa.... The evil woman with whom one of the two heroes compares the other is said to be a vala, who has practised her art partly on Varin's Isle partly in Asgard at Alfather's, and there she was the cause of a war in which all the warriors of Asgard took part. This refers to the war between the Asas and Vans. It is the second feud among the powers of Asgard. The vala must therefore be Gulveig-Heid of the myth, on whose account the war between the Asas and Vans broke out, according to Völuspa. Now it is said of her in the lines above quoted, that she gave birth to wolves, and that these wolves were "fenrisulfar." Of Angerboda we already know that she is the mother of the real Fenris-wolf, and that she, in the Ironwood, produces other wolves which are called by Fenrer's name (_Fenris kindir_--Völuspa). Thus the identity of Gulveig-Heid and Angerboda is still further established by the fact that both the one and the other is called the mother of the Fenris family. The passage quoted is not the only one which has preserved the memory of Gulveig-Heid as mother of the were-wolves. Volsungasaga (c. ii. 8) relates that a giantess, _Hrímnir's_ daughter, first dwelt in Asgard as the maid-servant of Frigg, then on earth, and that she, during her sojourn on earth, became the wife of a king, and with him the mother and grandmother of were-wolves, who infested the woods and murdered men. The fantastic and horrible saga about these were-wolves has, in Christian times and by Christian authors been connected with the poems about Helge Hundingsbane and Sigurd Fafnersbane. The circumstance that the giantess in question first dwelt in Asgard and thereupon in Midgard, indicates that she is identical with Gulveig-Heid, and this identity is confirmed by the statement that she is a daughter of the giant _Hrímnir_. The myth, as it has come down to our days, knows only one daughter of this giant, and she is the same as Gulveig-Heid. Hyndluljod states that _Heidr_ is _Hrímnir's_ daughter, and mentions no sister of hers, but, on the other hand, a brother _Hrossthiofr_ (_Heidr ok Hrorsthiofr Hrimnis kindar_--Hyndl., 30). In allusion to the cremation of Gulveig-Heid fire is called in Thorsdrapa _Hrimnis drósar lyptisylgr_, "the lifting drink of Hrimner's daughter," the drink which Heid lifted up on spears had to drink. Nowhere is any other daughter of Hrimner mentioned. And while it is stated in the above-cited strophe that the giantess who caused the war in Asgard and became the mother of fenris-wolves was a vala on Varin's Isle (_vaulva i Varinseyio_), a comparison of Helgakv. Hund., i. 26, with Volsungasaga, c. 2, shows that Varin's Isle and Varin's Fjord were located in that very country, where Hrimner's daughter was supposed to have been for some time the wife of a king and to have given birth to were-wolves. Thus we have found that the three characteristic points-- unsuccessful cremation of an evil giantess, her regeneration after the cremation, the same woman as mother of the Fenrer race-- are common to Gulveig-Heid and Angerboda. Their identity is apparent from various other circumstances, but may be regarded as completely demonstrated by the proofs given. Gulveig's activity in antiquity as the founder of the diabolical magic art, as one who awakens man's evil passions and produces strife in Asgard itself, has its complement in Angerboda's activity as the mother and nourisher of that class of beings in whose members witchcraft, thirst for blood, and hatred of the gods are personified. The activity of the evil principle has, in the great epic of the myth, formed a continuity spanning all ages, and this continuous thread of evil is twisted from the treacherous deeds of Gulveig and Loke, the feminine and the masculine representatives of the evil principle. Both appear at the dawn of mankind: Loke has already at the beginning of time secured access to Alfather (Lokasenna, 9), and Gulveig deceives the sons of men already in the time of Heimdal's son Borgar. Loke entices Idun from the secure grounds of Asgard, and treacherously delivers her to the powers of frost; Gulveig, as we shall see, plays Freyja into the hands of the giants. Loke plans enmity between the gods and the forces of nature, which hitherto had been friendly, and which have their personal representatives in Ivalde's sons; Gulveig causes the war between the Asas and Vans. The interference of both is interrupted at the close of the mythic age, when Loke is chained, and Gulveig, in the guise of Angerboda, is an exile in the Ironwood. Before this they have for a time been blended, so to speak, into a single being, in which the feminine assuming masculineness, and the masculine effeminated, bear to the world an offspring of foes to the gods and to creation. Both finally act their parts in the destruction of the world. Before that crisis comes Angerboda has fostered that host of "sons of world-ruin" which Loke is to lead to battle, and a magic sword which she has kept in the Ironwood is given to Surt, in whose hand it is to be the death of Frey, the lord of harvests (see Nos. 89, 98, 101, 103). That the woman who in antiquity, in various guises, visited Asgard and Midgard was believed to have had her home in the Ironwood[18] of the East during the historical age down to Ragnarok is explained by what Saxo says--viz., that Odin, after his return and reconciliation with the Vans, banished the agents of the black art both from heaven and from earth. Here, too, the connection between Gulveig-Heid and Angerboda is manifest. The war between the Asas and Vans was caused by the burning of Gulveig by the former. After the reconciliation with the Asas this punishment cannot again be inflicted on the regenerated witch. The Asas must allow her to live to the end of time; but both the clans of gods agree that she must not show her face again in Asgard or Midgard. The myth concerning the banishment of the famous vala to the Ironwood, and of the Loke progeny which she there fosters, has been turned into history by Jordanes in his _De Goth. Origine_, ch. 24, where it is stated that a Gothic king compelled the suspected valas (_haliorunas_) found among his people to take their refuge to the deserts in the East beyond the Moeotian Marsh, where they mixed with the wood-sprites, and thus became the progenitors of the Huns. In this manner the Christian Goths got from their mythic traditions an explanation of the source of the eastern hosts of horsemen, whose ugly faces and barbarous manners seemed to them to prove an other than purely human origin. The vala Gulveig-Heid and her like become in Jordanes these _haliorunæ_; Loke and the giants of the Ironwood become these wood-sprites; the Asa-god who caused the banishment becomes a king, son of Gandaricus Magnus (the great ruler of the Gandians, Odin), and Loke's and Angerboda's wonderful progeny become the Huns. Stress should be laid on the fact that Jordanes and Saxo have in the same manner preserved the tradition that Odin and the Asas, after making peace and becoming reconciled with the Vans, do not apply the death-penalty and burning to Gulveid-Heid-Angerboda and her kith and kin, but, instead, sentence them to banishment from the domains of gods and men. That the tradition preserved in Saxo and Jordanes corresponded with the myth is proved by the fact that we there rediscover Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda with her offspring in the Ironwood, which was thought to be situated in the utmost East, far away from the human world, and that she remains there undisturbed until the destruction of the world. The reconciliation between the Asas and Vans has, as this conclusively shows, been based on an admission on the part of the Asas that the Vans had a right to find fault with and demand satisfaction for the murder of Gulveig-Heid. Thus the dispute which caused the war between Asas and Vans was at last decided to the advantage of the latter, while they on their part, after being satisfied, reinstate Odin in his dignity as universal ruler and father of the gods. (b) Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda identical with Aurboda. In the Ironwood dwells Angerboda, together with a giant, who is _gygjar hirdir_, the guardian and watcher of the giantess. He has charge of her remarkable herds, and also guards a sword brought to the Ironwood. This vocation has given him the epithet Egther (_Egtherr_--Völuspa), which means sword-guardian. Saxo speaks of him as Egtherus, an ally of Finns, skilled in magic, and a chief of Bjarmians, equally skilful in magic (cp. _Hist._, 248, 249, with Nos. 52, 53). Bjarmians and Finns are in Saxo made the heirs of the wicked inhabitants of Jotunheim. Vilkinasaga knows him by the name Etgeir, who watches over precious implements in Isung's wood. Etgeir is a corruption of Egther, and Isung's wood is a reminiscence of _Isarnvidr_, _Isarnho_, the Ironwood. In the Vilkinasaga he is the brother of Vidolf. According to Hyndluljod, all the valas of the myth come from Vidolf. As Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda is the chief of all valas, and the teacher of the arts practised by the valas this statement in Hyndluljod makes us think of her particularly; and as _Hrimnir's_ daughter has been born and burnt several times, she may also have had several fathers. Among them, then, is Vidolf, whose character, as described by Saxo, fits well for such a daughter. He is a master in sorcery, and also skilful in the art of medicine. But the medical art he practises in such a manner that those who seek his help receive from him such remedies as do harm instead of good. Only by threats can he be made to do good with his art (_Hist._, 323, 324). The statement in Vilkinasaga compared with that in Hyndluljod seems therefore to point to a near kinship between Angerboda and her sword-guard. She appears to be the daughter of his brother. In Völuspa's description of the approach of Ragnarok, Egther Angerboda's shepherd, is represented as sitting on a mound--like Aurboda's shepherd in _Skirnisför_--and playing a harp, happy over that which is to happen. That the giant who is hostile to the gods, and who is the guardian of the strange herds, does not play an idyl on the strings of his harp does not need to be stated. He is visited by a being in the guise of the red cock. The cock, says Völuspa, is _Fjalarr_ (str. 44). What the heathen records tell us about Fjalar is the following:[19] (a) He is the same giant as the Younger Edda (i. 144 ff.) calls Utgard-Loke. The latter is a fire-giant, _Loge's_, the fire's ruler (Younger Edda, 152), the cause of earthquakes (Younger Edda, 144), and skilled in producing optical delusions. Fjalar's identity with Utgard-Loke is proved by Harbardsljod, str. 26, where Thor, on his way to Fjalar, meets with the same adventures as, according to the Younger Edda, he met with on his way to Utgard-Loke. (b) He is the same giant as the one called Suttung. The giant from whom Odin robs the skaldic mead, and whose devoted daughter Gunlad he causes bitter sorrow, is called in Havamál sometimes Fjalar and sometimes Suttung (cp. strs. 13, 14, 104, 105). (c) Fjalar is the son of the chief of the fire-giants, _Surtr_, and dwells in the subterranean dales of the latter. A full account of this in No. 89. Here it will suffice to point out that when Odin flies out of Fjalar's dwelling with the skaldic mead, it is "from Surt's deep dales" that he "flying bears" the precious drink (_hinn er Surts or sökkdölum farmagnudr fljúgandi bar_, a strophe by Eyvind, quoted in the Younger Edda, p. 242), and that this drink while it remained with Fjalar was "the drink of Surt's race" (_Sylgr Surts ættar_, Fornms., iii. 3). (d) Fjalar, with Froste, takes part in the attack of Thjasse's kinsmen and the Skilfings from Svarin's Mound against "the land of the clayey plains, to Jaravall" (Völuspa, 14, 15; see Nos. 28, 32). Thus he is allied with the powers of frost, who are foes of the gods, and who seek to conquer the Teutonic domain. The approach of the fimbul-winter was also attended by an earthquake (see Nos. 28, 81). When, therefore, Völuspa makes Fjalar on his visit to the sword-guardian in the Ironwood appear in the guise of the red cock, then this is in harmony with Fjalar's nature as a fire-giant and as a son of Surt. Sat thar a haugi oc sló haurpo gygjar hirthir gladr Egther. Gol um hanom i galgvithi fagrraudr hani sa er Fjalar heitir (Völusp., 41). The red cock has from time immemorial been the symbol of fire as a destructive power. That what Odin does against Fjalar--when he robs him of the mead, which in the myth is the most precious of all drinks, and when he deceived his daughter--is calculated to awaken Fjalar's thirst for revenge and to bring about a satisfaction sooner or later, lies in the very spirit of Teutonic poetry and ethics, especially since, Odin's act, though done from a good motive, was morally reprehensible. What Fjalar's errand to Angerboda's sword-guard was appears from the fact that when the last war between the gods and their enemies is fought a short time afterwards, Fjalar's father, the chief of the fire-giants, Surt, is armed with the best of the mythical weapons, the sword which had belonged to a _valtivi_, one of the gods of Asgard (Völusp., 50), and which casts the splendour of the sun upon the world. The famous sword of the myth, that which Thjasse finished with a purpose hostile to the gods (see No. 87 and elsewhere), the sword concealed by Mimer (see Nos. 87, 98, 101), the sword found by Svipdag (see Nos. 89, 101, 103), the sword secured through him by Frey, the one given by Frey to Gymer and Aurboda in exchange for Gerd,--this sword is found again in the Ragnarok conflict, wielded by Surt, and causes Frey's death (Völuspa), it having been secured by Surt's son, Fjalar, in the Ironwood from Angerboda's sword-guard. Gulli keypta leztu Gymis dottur oc seldir thitt sva sverth; Enn er Muspells synir rida myrcvith yfir veizta thu tha, vesall, hve thu vegr (Lokas., 42). This passage not only tells us that Frey gave his sword in exchange for Gerd to the parents of the giantess, Gymer and Aurboda, but also gives us to understand that this bargain shall cause his death in Ragnarok. This bride-purchase is fully described in Skirnismal, in which poem we learn that the gods most unwillingly part with the safety which the incomparable sword secured to Asgard. They yield in order to save the life of the harvest-god, who was wasting away with longing and anxiety, but not until the giants had refused to accept other Asgard treasures, among them the precious ring Draupner, which the Asa-father once laid on the pulseless breast of his favourite son Balder. At the approach of Ragnarok, Surt's son, Fjalar, goes to the Ironwood to fetch for his father the sword by which Frey, its former possessor, is to fall. The sword is then guarded by Angerboda's shepherd, and consequently belongs to her. In other words, the sword which Aurboda enticed Frey to give her is now found in the possession of Angerboda. This circumstance of itself is a very strong reason for their identity. If there were no other evidence of their identity than this, a sound application of methodology would still bid us accept this identity rather than explain the matter by inventing a new, nowhere-supported myth, and thus making the sword pass from Aurboda to another giantess. When we now add the important fact in the disposition of this matter, that Aurboda's son-in-law, Frey, demands, in behalf of a near kinsman, satisfaction from the Asas when they had killed and burnt Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda, then it seems to me that there can be no doubt in regard to the identity of Aurboda and Angerboda, the less so, since all that our mythic fragments have to tell us about Gymer's wife confirms the theory that she is the same person. Aurboda has, like Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda, practised the arts of sorcery: she is one of the valas of the evil giant world. This is told to us in a strophe by the skald _Refr_, who calls her "Gymer's primeval cold vala" (_ursvöl Gymis völva_--Younger Edda, i. 326, 496). She might be called "primeval cold" (_ursvöl_) from the fact that the fire was not able to pierce her heart and change it to ashes, in spite of a threefold burning. Under all circumstances, the passage quoted informs us that she is a vala. But have our mythic fragments preserved any allusion to show that Aurboda, like Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda, ever dwelt among the gods in Asgard? Asgard is a place where giants are refused admittance. Exceptions from this prohibition must have been very few, and the myths must have given good reasons for them. We know in regard to Loke's appearance in Asgard, that it is based on a promise given him by the Asa-father in time's morning; and the promise was sealed with blood (Lokasenna, 9). If, now, this Aurboda, who, like Angerboda, is a vala of giant race, and like Angerboda, is the owner of Frey's sword, and, like Angerboda, is a kinswoman of the Vans--if now this same Aurboda, in further likeness with Angerboda, was one of the certainly very few of the giant class who was permitted to enter within the gates of Asgard, then it must be admitted that this fact absolutely confirms their identity. Aurboda did actually dwell in Asgard. Of this we are assured by the poem "Fjölsvinsmal." There it is related that when Svipdag came to the gates of Asgard to seek and find Menglad-Freyja, who was destined to be his wife (see Nos. 96, 97), he sees Menglad sitting on a hill surrounded by goddesses, whose very names _Eir_, _Björt_, _Blid_, and _Frid_, tell us that they are goddesses of lower or higher rank. _Eir_ is an asynja of the healing art (Younger Edda, i. 114). _Björt_, _Blid_, and _Frid_ are the dises of splendour, benevolence, and beauty. They are mighty beings, and can give aid in distress to all who worship them (Fjolsv., 40). But in the midst of this circle of dises, who surround Menglad, Svipdag also sees Aurboda (Fjolsv., 38). Above them Svipdag sees Mimer's tree--the world-tree (see No. 97), spreading its all-embracing branches, on which grow fruits which soothe _kelisjukar konur_ and lighten the entrance upon terrestrial life for the children of men (Fjolsv., 22). Menglad-Freyja is, as we know, the goddess of love and fertility, and it is Frigg's and her vocation to dispose of these fruits for the purposes for which they are intended. The Volsungasaga has preserved a record concerning these fruits, and concerning the giant-daughter who was admitted to Asgard as a maid-servant of the goddesses. A king and queen had long been married without getting any children. They beseeched the gods for an heir. Frigg heard their prayers and sent them in the guise of a crow the daughter of the giant Hrimner, a giantess who had been adopted in Asgard as Odin's "wish-may." Hrimner's daughter took an apple with her, and when the queen had eaten it, it was not long before she perceived that her wish would come to pass (Volsungasaga, pp. 1, 2). Hrimner's daughter is, as we know, Gulveig-Heid. Thus the question whether Aurboda ever dwelt in Asgard is answered in the affirmative. We have discovered her, though she is the daughter of a giant, in the circle around Menglad-Freyja, where she has occupied a subordinate position as maid-servant. At the same time we have found that Gulveig-Heid has for some time had an occupation in Asgard of precisely the same kind as that which belongs to a dis serving under the goddess of fertility. Thus the similarity between Aurboda and Gulveig-Heid is not confined to the fact that they, although giantesses, dwelt in Asgard, but they were employed there in the same manner. The demonstration that Gulveig-Heid-Angerboda is identical with Aurboda may now be regarded as complete. Of the one as of the other it is related that she was a vala of giant-race, that she nevertheless dwelt for some time in Asgard, and was there employed by Frigg or Freyja in the service of fertility, and that she possessed the sword, which had formerly belonged to Frey, and by which Frey is to fall. Aurboda is Frey's mother-in-law, consequently closely related to him; and it must have been in behalf of a near relation that Frey and Njord demanded satisfaction from the Asas when the latter slew Gulveig-Heid. Under such circumstances it is utterly impossible from a methodological standpoint to regard them otherwise than identical. We must consider that nearly all mythic characters are polyonomous, and that the Teutonic mythology, particularly, on account of its poetics, is burdened with a highly-developed polyonomy. But of Gulveig-Heid's and Aurboda's identity there are also other proofs which, for the sake of completeness, we will not omit. So far as the very names Gulveig and Aurboda are concerned the one can serve as a paraphrase of the other. The first part of the name _Aurboda_, the _aur_ of many significations may be referred to _eyrir_, pl. _aurar_, which means precious metal, and is thought to be borrowed from the Latin _aurum_ (gold). Thus _Gull_ and _Aur_ correspond. In the same manner _veig_ in Gulveig can correspond to _boda_ in _Aurboda_. _Veig_ means a fermenting liquid. _Boda_ has two significations. It can be the feminine form of _bodi_, meaning fermenting water, froth, foam. No other names compounded with _boda_ occur in Norse literature than _Aurboda_ and _Angrboda_. Ynglingasaga[20] (ch. 4) relates a tradition that _Freyja kendi fyrst med Ásum seid_, that Freyja was the first to practise sorcery in Asgard. There is no doubt that the statement is correct. For we have seen that Gulveig-Heid, the sorceress and spreader of sorcery in antiquity, succeeded in getting admission to Asgard, and that Aurboda is mentioned as particularly belonging to the circle of serving dises who attended Freyja. As this giantess was so zealous in spreading her evil arts among the inhabitants of Midgard, it would be strange if the myth did not make her, after she had gained Freyja's confidence, try to betray her into practising the same arts. Doubtless Völuspa and Saxo have reference to Gulveig-Heid-Aurboda when they say that Freyja, through some treacherous person among her attendants, was delivered into the hands of the giants. In his historical account relating how Freyja (_Syritha_) was robbed from Asgard and came to the giants but was afterwards saved from their power, Saxo (_Hist._, 331; cp. No. 100) tells that a woman, who was secretly allied with a giant, had succeeded in ingratiating herself in her favour, and for some time performed the duties of a maid-servant at her home; but this she did in order to entice her in a cunning manner away from her safe home to a place where the giant lay in ambush and carried her away to the recesses of his mountain country. (_Gigas fæminam subornat, quæ cum obtenta virginis familiaritate, ejus aliquamdiu pedissequam egisset, hanc tandem a paternis procul penatibus, quæsita callidius digressione, reduxit; quam ipse mox irruens in arctiora montanæ crepidinis septa devexit._) Thus Saxo informs us that it was a woman among Freyja's attendants who betrayed her, and that this woman was allied with the giant world, which is hostile to the gods, while she held a trusted servant's place with the goddess. Aurboda is the only woman connected with the giants in regard to whom our mythic records inform us that she occupied such a position with Freyja; and as Aurboda's character and part, played in the epic of the myth, correspond with such an act of treason, there is no reason for assuming the mere possibility, that the betrayer of Freyja may have been some one else, who is neither mentioned nor known. With this it is important to compare Völuspa, 26, 27, which not only mentions the fact that Freyja came into the power of the giants through treachery, but also informs us how the treason was punished: Tha gengo regin oll A ráukstola, ginheilog god oc um that gettuz hverir hefdi lopt alt levi blandit etha ett iotuns Oths mey gefna thorr ein thar va thrungin modi, hann sialdan sitr er hann slict um fregn. These Völuspa lines stand in Codex Regius in immediate connection with the above-quoted strophes which speak of Gulveig-Heid and of the war caused by her between the Asas and Vans. They inform us that the gods assembled to hold a solemn counsel to find out "who had filled all the air with evil," or "who had delivered Freyja to the race of giants;" and that the person found guilty was at once slain by Thor, who grew most angry. Now if this person is Gulveig-Aurboda, then it follows that she received her death-blow from Thor's hammer, before the Asas made in common the unsuccessful attempt to change her body into ashes. We also find elsewhere in our mythic records that an exceedingly dangerous woman met with precisely this fate. There she is called _Hyrrokin_. A strophe by Thorbjorn Disarskald preserved in the Younger Edda, states that _Hyrrokin_ was one of the giantesses slain by Thor. But the very appellation _Hyrrokin_, which must be an epithet of a giantess known by some other more common name indicates that some effort worthy of being remembered in the myth had been made to burn her, but that the effort resulted in her being smoked (_rökt_) rather than that she was burnt; for the epithet _Hyrrokin_ means the "fire-smoked." For those familiar with the contents of the myth, this epithet was regarded as plain enough to indicate who was meant. If it is not, therefore, to be looked upon as an unhappy and misleading epithet, it must refer to the thrice in vain burnt Gulveig. All that we learn about _Hyrrokin_ confirms her identity with Aurboda. In the symbolic-allegorical work of art, which toward the close of the tenth century decorated a hall at Hjardarholt, and of which I shall give a fuller account elsewhere, the storm which from the land side carried Balder's ship out on the sea is represented by the giantess Hyrrokin. In the same capacity of storm-giantess carrying sailors out upon the ocean appears Gymer's wife, Aurboda, in a poem by _Refr_; Færir björn, thar er bára brestr, undinna festa, Opt i Ægis kjopta úrsvöl Gymis völva. "Gymer's ancient-cold vala often carries the ship amid breaking billows into the jaws of Ægir." Gymer, Aurboda's husband, represents in the physical interpretation of the myth the east wind coming from the Ironwood. From the other side of Eystrasalt (the Baltic) Gymer sings his song (Ynglingasaga, 36); and the same gale belongs to Aurboda, for Ægir, into whose jaws she drives the ships, is the great open western ocean. That Aurboda represents the gale from the east finds its natural explanation in her identity with Angerboda "the old," who dwells in the Ironwood in the uttermost east, "_Austr byr hin alldna i iarnvithi_" (Völusp.). The result of the investigation is that _Gullveig-Heidr_, _Aurboda_, and _Angrboda_ are different names for the different hypostases of the thrice-born and thrice-burnt one, and that _Hyrrokin_, "the fire-smoked," is an epithet common to all these hypostases. [Footnote 18: In Völuspa the wood is called both _Jarnvidr, Gaglvidr_ (Cod. Reg.), and _Galgvidr_ (Cod. Hauk.). It may be that we here have a fossil word preserved in Völuspa meaning metal. Perhaps the wood was a copper or bronze forest before it became an iron wood. Compare _ghalgha_, _ghalghi_ (Fick., ii. 578) = metal, which, again, is to be compared with _Chalkos._ = copper, bronze.] [Footnote 19: In _Bragarædur's_ pseudo-mythic account of the Skaldic mead (Younger Edda, 216 ff.) the name _Fjalarr_ also appears. In regard to the value of this account, see the investigation in No. 89.] [Footnote 20: Ynglingasaga is the opening chapters of Snorre Sturlason's Heimskringla.] 36. THE WORLD WAR (_continued_). THE BREACH OF PEACE BETWEEN ASAS AND VANS. FRIGG, SKADE, AND ULL IN THE CONFLICT. THE SIEGE OF ASGARD. THE VAFERFLAMES. THE DEFENCE AND SURROUNDINGS OF ASGARD. THE VICTORY OF THE VANS. When the Asas had refused to give satisfaction for the murder of Gulveig, and when Odin, by hurling his spear, had indicated that the treaty of peace between him and the Vans was broken, the latter leave the assembly hall and Asgard. This is evident from the fact that they afterwards return to Asgard and attack the citadel of the Asa clan. The gods are now divided into two hostile camps: on the one side Odin and his allies, among whom are Heimdal (see Nos. 38, 39, 40), and Skade; on the other Njord, Frigg (Saxo, _Hist._, 42-44), Frey, Ull (Saxo, _Hist_., 130, 131), and Freyja and her husband Svipdag, besides all that clan of divinities who were not adopted in Asgard, but belong to the race of Vans and dwell in Vanaheim. So far as Skade is concerned the breach between the gods seems to have furnished her an opportunity of getting a divorce from Njord, with whom she did not live on good terms. According to statements found in the myths, Thjasse's daughter and he were altogether too different in disposition to dwell in peace together. Saxo (_Hist._, 53 ff.) and the Younger Edda (p. 94) have both preserved the record of a song which describes their different tastes as to home and surroundings. Skade loved Thrymheim, the rocky home of her father Thjasse, on whose snow-clad plains she was fond of running on skees and of felling wild beasts with her arrows; but when Njord had remained nine days and nine nights among the mountains he was weary of the rocks and of the howling of wolves, and longed for the song of swans on the sea-strand. But when Skade accompanied him thither she could not long endure to be awakened every morning by the shrieking of sea-fowls. In Grimnismal, 11, it is said that Skade "now" occupies her father's "ancient home" in Thrymheim, but Njord is not named there. In a strophe by Thord Sjarekson (Younger Edda, 262) we read that Skade never became devoted to the Vana-god (_nama snotr una godbrúdr Vani_), and Eyvind Skalda-spiller relates in _Haleygjatal_ that there was a time when Odin dwelt _í Manheimum_ together with Skade, and begat with her many sons. With _Manheimar_ is meant that part of the world which is inhabited by man; that is to say, Midgard and the lower world, where are also found a race of _menskir menn_ (see Nos. 52, 53, 59, 63), and the topographical counterpart of the word is _Ásgardr_. Thus it must have been after his banishment from Asgard, while he was separated from Frigg and found refuge somewhere in _Manheimar_, that Odin had Skade for his wife. Her epithet in Grimnismal, _skír brúdr goda_, also seems to indicate that she had conjugal relations with more than one of the gods. While Odin was absent and deposed as ruler of the world, Ull has occupied so important a position among the ruling Vans that, according to the tradition preserved in Saxo, they bestowed upon him the task and honour which until that time had belonged to Odin (_Dii ... Ollerum quendam non solum in regni, sed etiam in divinitatis infulas subrogavere_--_Hist._, 130). This is explained by the fact that Njord and Frey, though _valtívar_ and brave warriors when they are invoked, are in their very nature gods of peace and promoters of wealth and agriculture, while Ull is by nature a warrior. He is a skilful archer, excellent in a duel, and _hefir hermanns atgervi_ (Younger Edda, i. 102). Also after the reconciliation between the Asas and Vans, Thor's stepson Ull has held a high position in Asgard, as is apparently corroborated by Odin's words in Grimnismal, 41 (_Ullar hylli ok allra góda_). From the mythic accounts in regard to the situation and environment of Asgard we may conclude that the siege by the Vans was no easy task. The home of the Asas is surrounded by the atmospheric ocean, whose strong currents make it difficult for the mythic horses to swim to it (see Nos. 65, 93). The bridge Bifrost is not therefore superfluous, but it is that connection between the lower worlds and Asgard which the gods daily use, and which must be captured by the enemy before the great cordon which encloses the shining halls of the gods can be attacked. The wall is built of "the limbs of Lerbrimer" (Fjolsv., 1), and constructed by its architect in such a manner that it is a safe protection against mountain-giants and frost-giants (Younger Edda, 134). In the wall is a gate wondrously made by the artist-brothers who are sons of "Solblinde" (_Valgrind_--Grimnism., 22; _thrymgjöll_--Fjölsvimsm., 10). Few there are who understand the lock of that gate, and if anybody brings it out of its proper place in the wall-opening where it blocks the way for those who have no right to enter, then the gate itself becomes a chain for him who has attempted such a thing (_Forn er su grind, enn that fáir vito, hor hve er i lás um lokin_--Grimn., 22. _Fjöturr fastr verdr vid faranda hvern er hana hefr frá hlidi_--Fjölsv., 10). Outside of the very high Asgard cordon and around it there flows a rapid river (see below), the moat of the citadel. Over the eddies of the stream floats a dark, shining ignitible mist. If it is kindled it explodes in flames, whose bickering tongues strike their victims with unerring certainty. It is the _vaferloge_, "the bickering flame," "the quick fire," celebrated in ancient songs--_vafrlogi_, _vafreydi_, _skjót-brinni_. It was this fire which the gods kindled around Asgard when they saw Thjasse approaching in eagle guise. In it their irreconcilable foe burnt his pinions, and fell to the ground. "Haustlaung," Thjodolf's poem, says that when Thjasse approached the citadel of the gods "the gods raised the quick fire and sharpened their javelins"--_Hófu skjót; en skófu sköpt; ginnregin brinna_. The "quick fire," _skjót-brinni_, is the _vaferloge_.[21] The material of which the ignitible mist consists is called "black terror-gleam." It is _or odauccom_; that is to say, _ofdauccom ognar ljoma_ (Fafn., 40) (_cp. myrckvan vafrloga_--Skirn., 8, 9; Fjolsv., 31). It is said to be "wise," which implies that it consciously aims at him for whose destruction it is kindled. How a water could be conceived that evaporates a dark, ignitible mist we find explained in Thorsdrapa. The thunder-storm is the "storm of the vaferfire," and Thor is the "ruler of the chariot of the vaferfire-storm" (_vafreyda hreggs húfstjóri_). Thus the thunder-cloud contains the water that evaporates a dark material for lightning. The dark metallic colour which is peculiar to the thunder-cloud was regarded as coming from that very material which is the "black terror-gleam" of which lightning is formed. When Thor splits the cloud he separates the two component parts, the water and the vafermist; the former falls down as rain, the latter is ignited and rushes away in quick, bickering, zigzag flames--the vaferfires. That these are "wise" was a common Aryan belief. They do not proceed blindly, but know their mark and never miss it. The river that foams around Asgard thus has its source in the thunder-clouds; not as we find them after they have been split by Thor, but such as they are originally, swollen with a celestial water that evaporates vafermist. All waters--subterranean, terrestrial, and celestial--have their source in that great subterranean fountain Hvergelmer. Thence they come and thither they return (Grimn., 26; see Nos. 59, 63, 33). Hvergelmer's waters are sucked up by the northern root of the world-tree; they rise through its trunk, spread into its branches and leaves, and evaporate from its crown into a water-tank situated on the top of Asgard, _Eikthyrnir_, in Grimnismal, str. 26, symbolised as a "stag"[22] who stands on the roof of Odin's hall and out of whose horns the waters stream down into Hvergelmer. _Eikthyrnir_ is the great celestial water-tank which gathers and lets out the thunder-cloud. In this tank the Asgard river has its source, and hence it consists not only of foaming water but also of ignitible vafermists. In its capacity of discharger of the thunder-cloud, the tank is called _Eikthyrnir_, the oak-stinger. Oaks struck by lightning is no unusual occurrence. The oak is, according to popular belief based on observation, that tree which the lightning most frequently strikes. But Asgard is not the only citadel which is surrounded by vafermists. These are also found enveloping the home where dwelt the storm-giant Gymer and the storm-giantess Aurboda, the sorceress who knows all of Asgard's secrets, at the time when Frey sent Skirner to ask for the hand of their daughter Gerd. Epics which in their present form date from Christian times make vaferflames burn around castles, where goddesses, pricked by sleep-thorns, are slumbering. This is a belief of a later age. To get over or through the vaferflame is, according to the myth, impossible for anyone who has not got a certain mythical horse to ride--probably Sleipner, the eight-footed steed of the Asa-father, which is the best of all horses (Grimn., 44). The quality of this steed, which enables it to bear its rider unscathed through the vaferflame, makes it indespensable when this obstacle is to be overcome. When Skirner is to go on Frey's journey of courtship to Gerd, he asks for that purpose _mar thann er mic um myrckvan beri visan vafrloga_, and is allowed to ride it on and for the journey (Skirn., 8, 9). This horse must accordingly have been in the possession of the Vans when they conquered Asgard, an assumption confirmed by what is to be stated below. (In the great epic Sigurd's horse Grane is made to inherit the qualities of this divine horse.) On the outer side of the Asgard river, and directly opposite the Asgard gate, lie projecting ramparts (_forgardir_) to protect the drawbridge, which from the opening in the wall can be dropped down across the river (see below). When Svipdag proceeded toward Menglad's abode in Asgard, he first came to this _forgardir_ (Fjöls., i. 3). There he is hailed by the watch of the citadel, and thence he gets a glimpse over the gate of all the glorious things which are hid behind the high walls of the citadel. Outside the river Asgard has fields with groves and woods (Younger Edda, 136, 210). Of the events of the wars waged around Asgard, the mythic fragments, which the Icelandic records have preserved, give us but very little information, though they must have been favourite themes for the heathen skaldic art, which here had an opportunity of describing in a characteristic manner all the gods involved, and of picturing not only their various characters, but also their various weapons, equipments, and horses. In regard to the weapons of attack we must remember that Thor at the outbreak of the conflict is deprived of the assistance of his splendid hammer: it has been broken by Svipdag's sword of victory (see Nos. 101, 103)--a point which it was necessary for the myth to assume, otherwise the Vans could hardly he represented as conquerors. Nor do the Vans have the above-mentioned sword at their disposal: it is already in the power of Gymer and Aurboda. The irresistible weapons which in a purely mechanical manner would have decided the issue of the war, were disposed of in advance in order that the persons themselves, with their varied warlike qualities, might get to the foreground and decide the fate of the conflict by heroism or prudence, by prescient wisdom or by blind daring. In this war the Vans have particularly distinguished themselves by wise and well calculated strategies. This we learn from Völuspa, where it makes the final victors conquer Asgard through _vígspá_, that is, foreknowledge applied to warlike ends (str. 26). The Asas, as we might expect from Odin's brave sons, have especially distinguished themselves by their strength and courage. A record of this is found in the words of Thorbjorn Disarskald (Younger Edda, 256). Thórr hefir Yggs med árum Ásgard of threk vardan. "Thor with Odin's clan-men defended Asgard with indomitable courage." But in number they must have been far inferior to their foes. Simply the circumstance that Odin and his men had to confine themselves to the defence of Asgard shows that nearly all other divinities of various ranks had allied themselves with his enemies. The ruler of the lower world (Mimer) and Honer are the only ones of whom it can be said that they remained faithful to Odin; and if we can trust the Heimskringla tradition, which is related as history and greatly corrupted, then Mimer lost his life in an effort at mediation between the contending gods, while he and Honer were held as hostages among the Vans (Ynglingas., ch. 4). Asgard was at length conquered. Völuspa, str. 25, relates the final catastrophe: brotin var bordvegr borgar asa knatto vanir vigspa vollo sporna. Broken was the bulwark of the asaburg; Through warlike prudence were the Vans able its fields to tread. Völuspa's words seem to indicate that the Vans took Asgard by strategy; and this is confirmed by a source which shall be quoted below. But to carry out the plan which chiefly involved the finding of means for crossing the vaferflames kindled around the citadel and for opening the gates of Asgard, not only cunning but also courage was required. The myth has given the honour of this undertaking to Njord, the clan-chief of the Vans and the commander of their forces. This is clear from the above-quoted passage: _Njordr klauf Herjans hurdir_--"Njord broke Odin's doors open," which should be compared with the poetical paraphrase for battle-axe: _Gauts megin-hurdar galli_--"the destroyer of Odin's great gate,"--a paraphrase that indicates that Njord burst the Asgard gate open with the battle-axe. The conclusion which must be drawn from these utterances is confirmed by an account with which the sixth book of Saxo begins, and which doubtless is a fragment of the myth concerning the conquest of Asgard by the Vans corrupted and told as history. The event is transferred by Saxo to the reign of King Fridlevus II. It should here be remarked that every important statement made by Saxo about this Fridlevus, on a closer examination, is found to be taken from the myth concerning Njord. There were at that time twelve brothers, says Saxo, distinguished for courage, strength, and fine physical appearance. They were "widely celebrated for gigantic triumphs." To their trophies and riches many peoples had paid tribute. But the source from which Saxo received information in regard to Fridlevus' conflict with them did not mention more than seven of these twelve, and of these seven Saxo gives the names. They are called Bjorn, Asbjorn, Gunbjorn, &c. In all the names is found the epithet of the Asa-god Bjorn. The brothers had had allies, says Saxo further, but at the point when the story begins they had been abandoned by them, and on this account they had been obliged to confine themselves on an island surrounded by a most violent stream which fell from the brow of a very high rock, and the whole surface of which glittered with raging foam. The island was fortified by a very high wall (_præaltum vallum_), in which was built a remarkable gate. It was so built that the hinges were placed near the ground between the sides of the opening in the wall, so that the gate turning thereon could, by a movement regulated by chains, be lowered and form a bridge across the stream. Thus the gate is, at the same time, a drawbridge of that kind with which the Germans became acquainted during the war with the Romans already before the time of Tacitus (cp. _Annal._, iv. 51, with iv. 47). Within the fortification there was a most strange horse, and also a remarkably strong dog, which formerly had watched the herds of the giant Offotes. The horse was celebrated for his size and speed, and it was the only steed with which it was possible for a rider to cross the raging stream around the island fortress. King Fridlevus now surrounds this citadel with his forces. These are arrayed at some distance from the citadel, and in the beginning nothing else is gained by the siege than that the besieged are hindered from making sallies into the surrounding territory. The citadel cannot be taken unless the above-mentioned horse gets into the power of Fridlevus. Bjorn, the owner of the horse, makes sorties from the citadel, and in so doing he did not always take sufficient care, for on one occasion when he was on the outer side of the stream, and had gone some distance away from his horse, he fell into an ambush laid by Fridlevus. He saved himself by rushing headlong over the bridge, which was drawn up behind him, but the precious horse became Fridlevus' booty. This was of course a severe loss to the besieged, and must have diminished considerably their sense of security. Meanwhile, Fridlevus was able to manage the matter in such a way that the accident served rather to lull them into increased safety. During the following night the brothers found their horse, safe and sound, back on the island. Hence it must have swum back across the stream. And when it was afterwards found that the dead body of a man, clad in the shining robes of Fridlevus, floated on the eddies of the stream, they took it for granted that Fridlevus himself had perished in the stream. But the real facts were as follows: Fridlevus, attended by a single companion, had in the night ridden from his camp to the river. There his companion's life had to be sacrificed, in order that the king's plan might be carried out. Fridlevus exchanged clothes with the dead man, who, in the king's splendid robes, was cast into the stream. Then Fridlevus gave spur to the steed which he had captured, and rode through the eddies of the stream. Having passed this obstacle safely, he set the horse at liberty, climbed on a ladder over the wall, stole into the hall where the brothers were wont to assemble, hid himself under a projection over the hall door, listened to their conversation, saw them go out to reconnoitre the island, and saw them return, secure in the conviction that there was no danger at hand. Then he went to the gate and let it fall across the stream. His forces had, during the night, advanced toward the citadel, and when they saw the drawbridge down and the way open, they stormed the fortress and captured it. The fact that we here have a transformation of the myth, telling how Njord at the head of the Vans conquered Asgard, is evident from the following circumstances: (_a_) The conqueror is Fridlevus. The most of what Saxo relates about this Fridlevus is, as stated, taken from the myth about Njord, and told as history. (_b_) The brothers were, according to Saxo, originally twelve, which is the well-established number of Odin's clansmen: his sons, and the adopted Asa-gods. But when the siege in question takes place, Saxo finds in his source only seven of the twelve mentioned as enclosed in the citadel beseiged by Fridlevus. The reason for the diminishing of the number is to be found in the fact that the adopted gods--Njord, Frey, and Ull--had left Asgard, and are in fact identical with the leaders of the besiegers. If we also deduct Balder and Hödr, who, at the time of the event, are dead and removed to the lower world, then we have left the number seven given. The name Bjorn, which they all bear, is an Asa epithet (Younger Edda, i. 553). The brothers have formerly had allies, but these have abandoned them (_deficientibus a se sociis_), and it is on this account that they must confine themselves within their citadel. The Asas have had the Vans and other divine powers as allies, but these abandon them, and the Asas must defend themselves on their own fortified ground. (_c_) Before this the brothers have made themselves celebrated for extraordinary exploits, and have enjoyed a no less extraordinary power. They shone on account of their _giganteis triumphis_--an ambiguous expression which alludes to the mythic sagas concerning the victories of the Asas over Jotunheim's giants (_gigantes_), and nations have submitted to them as victors, and enriched them with treasures (_trophæis gentium celebres, spoliis locupletes_). (_d_) The island on which they are confined is fortified, like the Asa citadel, by an immensely high wall (_præaltum vallum_), and is surrounded by a stream which is impassable unless one possesses a horse which is found among the brothers. Asgard is surrounded by a river belt covered with vaferflames, which cannot be crossed unless one has that single steed which _um myrckvan beri visan vafrloga_, and this belongs to the Asas. (_e_) The stream which roars around the fortress of the brothers comes _ex summis montium cacuminibus_. The Asgard stream comes from the collector of the thunder-cloud, _Eikthynir_, who stands on the summit of the world of the gods. The kindled vaferflames, which did not suit an historical narration, are explained by Saxo to be a _spumeus candor_, a foaming whiteness, a shining froth, which in uniform, eddying billows everywhere whirl on the surface of the stream, (_tota alvei tractu undis uniformiter turbidatis spumeus ubique candor exuberat_). (_f_) The only horse which was able to run through the shining and eddying foam is clearly one of the mythic horses. It is named along with another prodigy from the animal kingdom of mythology, viz., the terrible dog of the giant Offotes. Whether this is a reminiscence of _Fenrir_ which was kept for some time in Asgard, or of Odin's wolf-dog _Freki_, or of some other saga-animal of that sort, we will not now decide. (_g_) Just as Asgard has an artfully contrived gate, so has also the citadel of the brothers. Saxo's description of the gate implies that any person who does not know its character as a drawbridge, but lays violent hands on the mechanism which holds it in an upright position, falls, and is crushed under it. This explains the words of Fjölsvinnsmal about the gate to that citadel, within which Freyja-Menglad dwells: _Fjöturr fastr verdr vid faranda hvern, er hana hefr frá hlidi_. (_h_) In the myth, it is Njord himself who removes the obstacle, "Odin's great gate," placed in his way. In Saxo's account, it is Fridlevus himself who accomplishes the same exploit. (_i_) In Saxo's narration occurs an improbability, which is explained by the fact that he has transformed a myth into history. When Fridlevus is safe across the stream, he raises a ladder against the wall and climbs up on to it. Whence did he get this ladder, which must have been colossal, since the wall he got over in this manner is said to be _præaltum_? Could he have taken it with him on the horse's back? Or did the besieged themselves place it against the wall as a friendly aid to the foe, who was already in possession of the only means for crossing the stream? Both assumptions are alike improbable. Saxo had to take recourse to a ladder, for he could not, without damaging the "historical" character of his story, repeat the myth's probable description of the event. The horse which can gallop through the bickering flame can also leap over the highest wall. Sleipner's ability in this direction is demonstrated in the account of how it, with Hermod in the saddle, leaps over the wall to Balder's high hall in the lower world (Younger Edda, 178). The impassibility of the Asgard wall is limited to mountain-giants and frost-giants; for a god riding Odin's horse the wall was no obstacle. No doubt the myth has also stated that the Asas, after Njord had leaped over the wall and sought out the above-mentioned place of concealment, found within the wall their precious horse again, which lately had become the booty of the enemy. And where else should they have found it, if we regard the stream with the bickering flames as breaking against the very foot of the wall? Finally, it should be added, that our myths tell of no other siege than the one Asgard was subjected to by the Vans. If other sieges have been mentioned, they cannot have been of the same importance as this one, and consequently they could not so easily have left traces in the mythic traditions adapted to history or heroic poetry; nor could a historicised account of a mythic siege which did not concern Asgard have preserved the points here pointed out, which are in harmony with the story of the Asgard siege. When the citadel of the gods is captured, the gods are, as we have seen, once more in possession of the steed, which, judging from its qualities, must be Sleipner. Thus Odin has the means of escaping from the enemy after all resistance has proved impossible. Thor has his thundering car, which, according to the Younger Edda, has room for several besides the owner, and the other Asas have splendid horses (Grimnism., Younger Edda), even though they are not equal to that of their father. The Asas give up their throne of power, and the Vans now assume the rule of the world. [Footnote 21: The author of _Bragarædur_ in the Younger Edda has understood this passage to mean that the Asas, when they saw Thjasse approaching, carried out a lot of shavings, which were kindled (!)] [Footnote 22: In the same poem the elf-artist, Dáinn, and the "dwarf"-artist, Dvalinn, are symbolised as stags, the wanderer Ratr (see below) as a squirrel, the wolf-giant _Grafvitner's_ sons as serpents, the bridge Bifrost as a fish (see No. 93), &c. Fortunately for the comprehension of our mythic records such symbolising is confined to a few strophes in the poem named, and these strophes appear to have belonged originally to an independent song which made a speciality of that sort of symbolism, and to have been incorporated in Grimnismal in later times.] 37. THE WORLD WAR (_continued_). THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE CONFLICT FROM A RELIGIOUS-RITUAL STANDPOINT. In regard to the significance of the change of administration in the world of gods, Saxo has preserved a tradition which is of no small interest. The circumstance that Odin and his sons had to surrender the reign of the world did not imply that mankind should abandon their faith in the old gods and accept a new religion. Hitherto the Asas and Vans had been worshipped in common. Now, when Odin was deposed, his name, honoured by the nations, was not to be obliterated. The name was given to Ull, and, as if he really were Odin, he was to receive the sacrifices and prayers that hitherto had been addressed to the banished one (_Hist._, 130). The ancient faith was to be maintained, and the shift involved nothing but the person; there was no change of religion. But in connection with this information, we also learn, from another statement in Saxo, that the myth concerning the war between Asas and Vans was connected with traditions concerning a conflict between various views among the believers in the Teutonic religion concerning offerings and prayers. The one view was more ritual, and demanded more attention paid to sacrifices. This view seems to have gotten the upper hand after the banishment of Odin. It was claimed that sacrifices and hymns addressed at the same time to several or all of the gods, did not have the efficacy of pacifying and reconciling angry deities, but that to each one of the gods should be given a separate sacrificial service (Saxo, _Hist._, 43). The result of this was, of course, an increase of sacrifices and a more highly-developed ritual, which from its very nature might have produced among the Teutons the same hierarchy as resulted from an excess of sacrifices among their Aryan-Asiatic kinsmen. The correctness of Saxo's statement is fully confirmed by strophe 145 in Havamál, which advocates the opposite and incomparably more moderate view in regard to sacrifices. This view came, according to the strophe, from Odin's own lips. He is made to proclaim it to the people "after his return to his ancient power." Betra er obethit en se ofblothit ey ser til gildis giof; betra er osennt enn se ofsóit. Sva thundr um reist fyr thiotha rauc, thar hann up um reis er hann aptr of kom. The expression, _thar hann up um reis, er hann apter of kom_, refers to the fact that Odin had for some time been deposed from the administration of the world, but had returned, and that he then proclaimed to the people the view in regard to the real value of prayers and sacrifices which is laid down in the strophe. Hence it follows that before Odin returned to his throne another more exacting doctrine in regard to sacrifices had, according to the myth, secured prevalence. This is precisely what Saxo tells us. It is difficult to repress the question whether an historical reminiscence is not concealed in these statements. May it not be the record of conflicting views within the Teutonic religion--views represented in the myth by the Vana-gods on the one side and the Asas on the other? The Vana views, I take it, represented tendencies which had they been victorious, would have resulted in hierarchy, while the Asa doctrine represented the tendencies of the believers in the time-honoured Aryan custom of those who maintained the priestly authority of the father of the family, and who defended the efficacy of the simple hymns and sacrifices which from time out of mind had been addressed to several or all of the gods in common. That the question really has existed among the Teutonic peoples, at least as a subject for reflection, spontaneously suggests itself in the myth alluded to above. This myth has discussed the question, and decided it in precisely the same manner as history has decided it among the Teutonic races, among whom priestcraft and ritualism have held a far less important position than among their western kinsmen, the Celts, and their eastern kinsmen, the Iranians and Hindoos. That prayers on account of their length, or sacrifices on account of their abundance, should give evidence of greater piety and fear of God, and should be able to secure a more ready hearing, is a doctrine which Odin himself rejects in the strophe above cited. He understands human nature, and knows that when a man brings abundant sacrifices he has the selfish purpose in view of prevailing on the gods to give a more abundant reward--a purpose prompted by selfishness, not by piety. 38. THE WORLD WAR (_continued_). THE WAR IN MIDGARD BETWEEN HALFDAN'S SONS. GROA'S SONS AGAINST ALVEIG'S. LOKE'S APPEARANCE ON THE STAGE. HADDING'S YOUTHFUL ADVENTURES. The conflict between the gods has its counterpart in, and is connected with, a war between all the Teutonic races, and the latter is again a continuation of the feud between Halfdan and Svipdag. The Teutonic race comes to the front fighting under three race-representatives--(1) Yngve-Svipdag, the son of Orvandel and Groa; (2) Gudhorm, the son of Halfdan and Groa, consequently Svipdag's half-brother; (3) Hadding, the son of Halfdan and Alveig (in Saxo called Signe, daughter of Sumbel), consequently Gudhorm's half-brother. The ruling Vans favour Svipdag, who is Freyja's husband and Frey's brother-in-law. The banished Asas support Hadding from their place of refuge. The conflict between the gods and the war between Halfdan's successor and heir are woven together. It is like the Trojan war, where the gods, divided into parties, assist the Trojans or assist the Danai. Odin, Thor, and Heimdal interfere, as we shall see, to protect Hadding. This is their duty as kinsmen; for Heimdal, having assumed human nature, was the lad with the sheaf of grain who came to the primeval country and became the father of Borgar, who begat the son Halfdan. Thor was Halfdan's associate father; hence he too had duties of kinship toward Hadding and Gudhorm, Halfdan's sons. The gods, on the other hand, that favour Svipdag are, in Hadding's eyes, foes, and Hadding long refuses to propitiate Frey by a demanded sacrifice (Saxo, _Hist._, 49, 50). This war, simultaneously waged between the clans of the gods on the one hand, and between the Teutonic tribes on the other, is what the seeress in Völuspa calls "the first great war in the world." She not only gives an account of its outbreak and events among the gods, but also indicates that it was waged on the earth. Then-- sa hon valkyrior saw she valkyries vitt um komnar far travelled gaurvar at rida equipped to ride til Godthjodar to Goththjod. Goththjod is the Teutonic people and the Teutonic country. When Svipdag had slain Halfdan, and when the Asas were expelled, the sons of the Teutonic patriarch were in danger of falling into the power of Svipdag. Thor interested himself in their behalf, and brought Gudhorm and Hadding to Jotunheim, where he concealed them with the giants Hafle and Vagnhofde--Gudhorm in Hafle's rocky gard and Hadding in Vagnhofde's. In Saxo, who relates this story, the Asa-god Thor appears partly as _Thor deus_ and _Thoro pugil_, Halfdan's protector, whom Saxo himself identifies as the god Thor (_Hist._, 324), and partly as _Brac_ and _Brache_, which name Saxo formed from Thor's epithet, _Asa-Bragr_. It is by the name Brache that Thor appears as the protector of Halfdan's sons. The giants Hafle and Vagnhofde dwell, according to Saxo, in "Svetia" probably, since Jotunheim, the northernmost Sweden, and the most distant east were called _Svithiod hinn kalda_.[23] Svipdag waged war against Halfdan, since it was his duty to avenge the disgrace of his mother Groa, and also that of his mother's father, and, as shall be shown later, the death of his father Orvandel (see Nos. 108, 109). The revenge for bloodshed was sacred in the Teutonic world, and this duty he performed when he with his irresistible sword felled his stepfather. But thereby the duty of revenge for bloodshed was transferred to Halfdan's sons--less to Gudhorm, who is himself a son of Groa, but with all its weight to Hadding, the son of Alveig, and it is _his_ bounden duty to bring about Svipdag's death, since Svipdag had slain Halfdan. Connecting itself with Halfdan's robbery of Groa, the goddess of growth, the red thread of revenge for bloodshed extends throughout the great hero-saga of Teutonic mythology. Svipdag makes an effort to cut the thread. He offers Gudhorm and Hadding peace and friendship, and promises them kingship among the tribes subject to him. Groa's son, Gudhorm, accepts the offer, and Svipdag makes him ruler of the Danes; but Hadding sends answer that he prefers to avenge his father's death to accepting favours from an enemy (Saxo, _Hist._, 35, 36). Svipdag's offer of peace and reconciliation is in harmony, if not with his own nature, at least with that of his kinsmen, the reigning Vans. If the offer to Hadding had been accepted, we might have looked for peace in the world. Now the future is threatened with the devastations of war, and the bloody thread of revenge shall continue to be spun if Svipdag does not prevent it by overpowering Hadding. The myth may have contained much information about the efforts of the one camp to capture him and about contrivances of the other to frustrate these efforts. Saxo has preserved a partial record thereof. Among those who plot against Hadding is also Loke (_Lokerus_--Saxo, _Hist._, 40, 41),[24] the banished ally of Aurboda. His purpose is doubtless to get into the favour of the reigning Vans. Hadding is no longer safe in Vagnhofde's mountain home. The lad is exposed to Loke's snares. From one of these he is saved by the Asa-father himself. There came, says Saxo, on this occasion a rider to Hadding. He resembled a very aged man, one of whose eyes was lost (_grandævus quidam altero orbus oculo_). He placed Hadding in front of himself on the horse, wrapped his mantle about him, and rode away. The lad became curious and wanted to see whither they were going. Through a hole in the mantle he got an opportunity of looking down, and found to his astonishment and fright that land and sea were far below the hoofs of the steed. The rider must have noticed his fright, for he forbade him to look out any more. The rider, the one-eyed old man, is Odin, and the horse is Sleipner, rescued from the captured Asgard. The place to which the lad is carried by Odin is the place of refuge secured by the Asas during their exile _i Manheimum_. In perfect harmony with the myths, Saxo refers Odin's exile to the time preceding Hadding's juvenile adventures, and makes Odin's return to power simultaneous with Hadding's great victory over his enemies (_Hist._, 42-44). Saxo has also found in his sources that sword-slain men, whom Odin chooses during "the first great war in the world," cannot come to Valhal. The reason for this is that Odin is not at that time the ruler there. They have dwelling-places and plains for their warlike amusements appointed in the lower world (_Hist._, 51). The regions which, according to Saxo, are the scenes of Hadding's juvenile adventures lie on the other side of the Baltic down toward the Black Sea. He is associated with "Curetians" and "Hellespontians," doubtless for the reason that the myth has referred those adventures to the far east. The one-eyed old man is endowed with wonderful powers. When he landed with the lad at his home, he sang over him prophetic incantations to protect him (_Hist._, 40), and gave him a drink of the "most splendid sort," which produced in Hadding enormous physical strength, and particularly made him able to free himself from bonds and chains. (Compare Havamál, str. 149, concerning Odin's freeing incantations by which "fetters spring from the feet and chains from the hands.") A comparison with other passages, which I shall discuss later, shows that the potion of which the old man is lord contains something which is called "Leifner's flames," and that he who has been permitted to drink it, and over whom freeing incantations have simultaneously been sung, is able with his warm breath to free himself from every fetter which has been put on his enchanted limbs (see Nos. 43, 96, 103). The old man predicts that Hadding will soon have an opportunity of testing the strength with which the drink and the magic songs have endowed him. And the prophecy is fulfilled. Hadding falls into the power of Loke. He chains him and threatens to expose him as food for a wild beast--in Saxo a lion, in the myth presumably some one of the wolf or serpent prodigies that are Loke's offspring. But when his guards are put to sleep by Odin's magic song, though Odin is far away, Hadding bursts his bonds, slays the beast, and eats, in obedience to Odin's instructions, its heart. (The saga of Sigurd Fafnersbane has copied this feature. Sigurd eats the heart of the dragon Fafner and gets wisdom thereby.) Thus Hadding has become a powerful hero, and his task to make war on Svipdag, to revenge on him his father's death, and to recover the share in the rulership of the Teutons which Halfdan had possessed, now lies before him as the goal he is to reach. Hadding leaves Vagnhofde's home. The latter's daughter, Hardgrep, who had fallen in love with the youth, accompanies him. When we next find Hadding he is at the head of an army. That this consisted of the tribes of Eastern Teutondom is confirmed by documents which I shall hereafter quote; but it also follows from Saxo's narrative, although he has referred the war to narrower limits than were given to it in the myth, since he, constructing a Danish history from mythic traditions, has his eyes fixed chiefly on Denmark. Over the Scandian tribes and the Danes rule, according to Saxo's own statement, Svipdag, and as his tributary king in Denmark his half-brother Gudhorm. Saxo also is aware that the Saxons, the Teutonic tribes of the German lowlands, on one occasion were the allies of Svipdag (_Hist._, 34). From these parts of Teutondom did not come Hadding's friends, but his enemies; and when we add that the first battle which Saxo mentions in this war was fought among the Curetians east of the Baltic, then it is clear that Saxo, too, like the other records to which I am coming later, has conceived the forces under Hadding's banner as having been gathered in the East. From this it is evident that the war is one between the tribes of North Teutondom, led by Svipdag and supported by the Vans on the one side, and the tribes of East Teutondom, led by Hadding and supported by the Asas on the other. But the tribes of the western Teutonic continent have also taken part in the first great war of mankind. Gudhorm, whom Saxo makes a tributary king in Yngve-Svipdag's most southern domain, Denmark, has in the mythic traditions had a much greater empire, and has ruled over the tribes of Western and Southern Teutondom, as shall be shown hereafter. [Footnote 23: _Filii Gram, Guthormus et Hadingus, quorum alterum Gro, alterum Signe enixa est, Svipdagero Daniam obtinente, per educatorem suum Brache nave Svetiam deportati, Vagnophto et Haphlio gigantibus non solum alendi, verum etiam defensandi traduntur_ (Saxo _Hist._, 34).] [Footnote 24: The form _Loki_ is also duplicated by the form _Lokr_. The latter is preserved in the sense of "effeminated man," found in myths concerning Loke. Compare the phrase "_veykr Lokr_" with "_hinn veyki Loki_."] 39. THE WORLD WAR (_continued_). THE POSITION OF THE DIVINE CLANS TO THE WARRIORS. The circumstance that the different divine clans had their favourites in the different camps gives the war a peculiar character. The armies see before a battle supernatural forms contending with each other in the starlight, and recognize in them their divine friends and opponents (_Hist._, 48). The elements are conjured on one and the other side for the good or harm of the contending brother-tribes. When fog and pouring rain suddenly darken the sky and fall upon Hadding's forces from that side where the fylkings of the North are arrayed, then the one-eyed old man comes to their rescue and calls forth dark masses of clouds from the other side, which force back the rain-clouds and the fog (_Hist._, 53). In these cloud-masses we must recognize the presence of the thundering Thor, the son of the one-eyed old man. Giants also take part in the conflict. Vagnhofde and Hardgrep, the latter in a man's attire, contend on the side of the foster-son and the beloved Hadding (_Hist._, 45, 38). From Icelandic records we learn that Hafle and the giantesses Fenja and Menja fight under Gudhorm's banners. In the Grotte-song (14, 15) these maids sing: En vit sithan a Svidiothu framvisar tvoer i folk stigum; beiddum biornu, en brutum skioldu gengum igegnum graserkiat lit. Steyptom stilli, studdum annan, veittum gothum Guthormi lid. That the giant Hafle fought on the side of Gudhorm is probable from the fact that he is his foster-father, and it is confirmed by the fact that Thor paraphrased (Grett., 30) is called _fangvinr Hafla_, "he who wrestled with Hafle." Since Thor and Hafle formerly were friends--else the former would not have trusted Gudhorm to the care of the latter--their appearance afterwards as foes can hardly be explained otherwise than by the war between Thor's protégé Hadding and Hafle's foster-son Gudhorm. And as Hadding's foster-father, the giant Vagnhofde, faithfully supports the young chief whose childhood he protected, then the myth could scarcely avoid giving a similar part to the giant Hafle, and thus make the foster-fathers, like the foster-sons, contend with each other. The heroic poems are fond of parallels of this kind. When Svipdag learns that Hadding has suddenly made his appearance in the East, and gathered its tribes around him for a war with Gudhorm, he descends from Asgard and reveals himself in the primeval Teutonic country on the Scandian peninsula, and requests its tribes to join the Danes and raise the banner of war against Halfdan's and Alveig's son, who, at the head of the eastern Teutons, is marching against their half-brother Gudhorm. The friends of both parties among the gods, men and giants, hasten to attach themselves to the cause which they have espoused as their own, and Vagnhofde among the rest abandons his rocky home to fight by the side of his foster-son and daughter. This mythic situation is described in a hitherto unexplained strophe in the Old English song concerning the names of the letters in the runic alphabet. In regard to the rune which answers to _I_ there is added the following lines: Ing väs oerest mid Eástdenum geseven secgum od he siddan eást ofer væg gevât. Væn æfter ran; thus Heardingas thone häle nemdon. "Yngve (Inge) was first seen among the East-Danemen. Then he betook himself eastward over the sea. Vagn hastened to follow: Thus the Heardings called this hero." The Heardings are the Haddings--that is to say, Hadding himself, the kinsmen and friends who embraced his cause, and the Teutonic tribes who recognised him as their chief. The Norse _Haddingr_ is to the Anglo-Saxon _Hearding_ as the Norse _haddr_ to the Anglo-Saxon _heard_. Vigfusson, and before him J. Grimm, have already identified these forms. Ing is Yngve-Svipdag, who, when he left Asgard, "was first seen among the East-Danemen." He calls Swedes and Danes to arms against Hadding's tribes. The Anglo-Saxon strophe confirms the fact that they dwell in the East, separated by a sea from the Scandian tribes. Ing, with his warriors, "betakes himself eastward over the sea" to attack them. Thus the armies of the Swedes and Danes go by sea to the seat of war. What the authorities of Tacitus heard among the continental Teutons about the mighty fleets of the Swedes may be founded on the heroic songs about the first great war not less than on fact. As the army which was to cross the Baltic must be regarded as immensely large, so the myth, too, has represented the ships of the Swedes as numerous, and in part as of immense size. A confused record from the songs about the expedition of Svipdag and his friends against the East Teutons, found in Icelandic tradition, occurs in Fornald, pp. 406-407, where a ship called Gnod, and capable of carrying 3000 men, is mentioned as belonging to a King Asmund. Odin did not want this monstrous ship to reach its destination, but sank it, so it is said, in the Lessö seaway, with all its men and contents. The Asmund who is known in the heroic sagas of heathen times is a son of Svipdag and a king among the Sviones (Saxo, _Hist._, 44). According to Saxo, he has given brilliant proofs of his bravery in the war against Hadding, and fallen by the weapons of Vagnhofde and Hadding. That Odin in the Icelandic tradition appears as his enemy thus corresponds with the myth. The same Asmund may, as Gisle Brynjulfsson has assumed, be meant in Grimnersmal (49), where we learn that Odin, concealing himself under the name Jalk, once visited Asmund. The hero Vagn, whom "the Haddings so called," is Hadding's foster-father, Vagnhofde. As the word _höfdi_ constitutes the second part of a mythic name, the compound form is a synonym of that name which forms the first part of the composition. Thus _Svarthöfdi_ is identical with _Svartr_, _Surtr_. In Hyndluljod, 33, all the mythical sorcerers (_seidberendr_) are said to be sprung from _Svarthöfdi_. In this connection we must first of all think of Fjalar, who is the greatest sorcerer in mythology. The story about Thor's, Thjalfe's, and Loke's visit to him is a chain of delusions of sight and hearing called forth by Fjalar, so that the Asa-god and his companions always mistake things for something else than they are. Fjalar is a son of _Surtr_ (see No. 89). Thus the greatest agent of sorcery is descended from _Surtr_, _Svartr_, and, as Hyndluljod states that all magicians of mythology have come of some _Svarthöfdi_, _Svartr_ and _Svarthöfdi_ must be identical. And so it is with Vagn and _Vagnhöfdi_; they are different names for the same person. When the Anglo-Saxon rune-strophe says that Vang "made haste to follow" after Ing had gone across the sea, then this is to be compared with Saxo's statement (_Hist._, 45), where it is said that Hadding in a battle was in greatest peril of losing his life, but was saved by the sudden and miraculous landing of Vagnhofde, who came to the battle-field and placed himself at his side. The Scandian fylkings advanced against Hadding's; and Svipdag's son Asmund, who fought at the head of his men, forced his way forward against Hadding himself, with his shield thrown on his back, and with both his hands on the hilt of a sword which felled all before it. Then Hadding invoked the gods who were the friends of himself and his race (_Hadingo familiarium sibi numinum præsidia postulante subito Vagnophtus partibus ejus propugnaturus advehitur_), and then Vagnhofde is brought (_advehitur_) by some one of these gods to the battle-field and suddenly stands by Hadding's side, swinging a crooked sword[25] against Asmund, while Hadding hurls his spear against him. This statement in Saxo corresponds with and explains the old English strophe's reference to a quick journey which Vagn made to help _Heardingas_ against _Ing_, and it is also illustrated by a passage in Grimnismal, 49, which, in connection with Odin's appearance at Asmund's, tells that he once by the name Kjalar "drew _Kjalki_" (_mic heto Jalc at Asmundar, enn tha Kialar, er ec Kialka dró_). The word and name _Kjálki_, as also _Sledi_, is used as a paraphrase of the word and name _Vagn_.[26] Thus Odin has once "drawn Vagn" (waggon). The meaning of this is clear from what is stated above. Hadding calls on Odin, who is the friend of him and of his cause, and Odin, who on a former occasion has carried Hadding on Sleipner's back through the air, now brings, in the same or a similar manner, Vagnhofde to the battle-field, and places him near his foster-son. This episode is also interesting from the fact that we can draw from it the conclusion that the skalds who celebrated the first great war in their songs made the gods influence the fate of the battle, not directly but indirectly. Odin might himself have saved his favourite, and he might have slain Svipdag's son Asmund with his spear Gungner; but he does not do so; instead, he brings Vagnhofde to protect him. This is well calculated from an epic standpoint, while _dii ex machina_, when they appear in person on the battle-field with their superhuman strength, diminish the effect of the deeds of mortal heroes, and deprive every distress in which they have taken part of its more earnest significance. Homer never violated this rule without injury to the honour either of his gods or of his heroes. [Footnote 25: The crooked sword, as it appears from several passages in the sagas, has long been regarded by our heathen ancestors as a foreign form of weapon, used by the giants, but not by the gods or by the heroes of Midgard.] [Footnote 26: Compare Fornald., ii. 118, where the hero of the saga cries to _Gusi_, who comes running after him with "2 hreina ok _vagn_"-- _Skrid thu af kjalka, Kyrr thu hreina, seggr sidförull seg hvattu heitir!_ ] 40. THE WORLD WAR (_continued_). HADDING'S DEFEAT. LOKE IN THE COUNCIL AND ON THE BATTLE-FIELD. HEIMDAL THE PROTECTOR OF HIS DESCENDANT HADDING. The first great conflict in which the warriors of North and West Teutondom fight with the East Teutons ends with the complete victory of Groa's sons. Hadding's fylkings are so thoroughly beaten and defeated that he, after the end of the conflict, is nothing but a defenceless fugitive, wandering in deep forests with no other companion than Vagnhofde's daughter, who survived the battle and accompanies her beloved in his wanderings in the wildernesses. Saxo ascribes the victory won over Hadding to Loke. It follows of itself that, in a war whose deepest root must be sought in Loke's and Aurboda's intrigues, and in which the clans of gods on both sides take part, Loke should not be excluded by the skalds from influence upon the course of events. We have already seen that he sought to ruin Hadding while the latter was still a boy. He afterwards appears in various guises as evil counsellor, as an evil intriguer, and as a skilful arranger of the fylkings on the field of battle. His purpose is to frustrate every effort to bring about reconciliation, and by means of persuasion and falsehoods to increase the chances of enmity between Halfdan's descendants, in order that they may mutually destroy each other (see below). His activity among the heroes is the counterpart of his activity among the gods. The merry, sly, cynical, blameworthy, and profoundly evil Mefisto of the Teutonic mythology is bound to bring about the ruin of the Teutonic people like that of the gods of the Teutons. In the later Icelandic traditions he reveals himself as the evil counsellor of princes in the forms of Blind ille, Blind bölvise (in Saxo Bolvisus); _Bikki_; in the German and Old English traditions as Sibich, Sifeca, Sifka. _Bikki_ is a name-form borrowed from Germany. The original Norse Loke-epithet is _Bekki_, which means "the foe," "the opponent". A closer examination shows that everywhere where this counsellor appears his enterprises have originally been connected with persons who belong to Borgar's race. He has wormed himself into the favour of both the contending parties--as Blind ille with King Hadding--whereof Hromund Greipson's saga has preserved a distorted record--as Bikke, Sibeke, with King Gudhorm (whose identity with Jormunrek shall be established below). As Blind bölvise he lies in waiting for and seeks to capture the young "Helge Hundingsbane," that is to say, Halfdan, Hadding's father (Helge Hund., ii.). Under his own name, Loke, he lies in waiting for and seeks to capture the young Hadding, Halfdan's son. As a cunning general and cowardly warrior he appears in the German saga-traditions, and there is every reason to assume that it is his activity in the first great war as the planner of Gudhorm's battle-line that in the Norse heathen records secured Loke the epithets _sagna hroerir_ and _sagna sviptir_, the leader of the warriors forward and the leader of the warriors back--epithets which otherwise would be both unfounded and incomprehensible, but they are found both in Thjodolf's poem Haustlaung, and in Eilif Gudrunson's Thorsdrapa. It is also a noticeable fact that while Loke in the first great battle which ends with Hadding's defeat determines the array of the victorious army--for only on this basis can the victory be attributed to him by Saxo--it is in the other great battle in which Hadding is victorious that Odin himself determines how the forces of his protégé are to be arranged, namely, in that wedge-form which after that time and for many centuries following was the sacred and strictly preserved rule for the battle-array of Teutonic forces. Thus the ancient Teutonic saga has mentioned and compared with one another two different kinds of battle-arrays--the one invented by Loke and the other invented by Odin. During his wanderings in the forests of the East Hadding has had wonderful adventures and passed through great trials. Saxo tells one of these adventures. He and Hardgrep, Vagnhofde's daughter, came late one evening to a dwelling where they got lodgings for the night. The husband was dead, but not yet buried. For the purpose of learning Hadding's destiny, Hardgrep engraved speech-runes (see No. 70) on a piece of wood, and asked Hadding to place it under the tongue of the dead one. The latter would in this wise recover the power of speech and prophecy. So it came to pass. But what the dead one sang in an awe-inspiring voice was a curse on Hardgrep, who had compelled him to return from life in the lower world to life on earth, and a prediction that an avenging Niflheim demon would inflict punishment on her for what she had done. A following night, when Hadding and Hardgrep had sought shelter in a bower of twigs and branches which they had gathered, there appeared a gigantic hand groping under the ceiling of the bower. The frightened Hadding waked Hardgrep. She then rose in all her giant strength, seized the mysterious hand, and bade Hadding cut it off with his sword. He attempted to do this, but from the wounds he inflicted on the ghost's hand there issued matter or venom more than blood, and the hand seized Hardgrep with its iron claws and tore her into pieces (Saxo, _Hist._, 36 ff.). When Hadding in this manner had lost his companion, he considered himself abandoned by everybody; but the one-eyed old man had not forgotten his favourite. He sent him a faithful helper, by name _Liserus_ (Saxo, _Hist._, 40). Who was _Liserus_ in our mythology? First, as to the name itself: in the very nature of the case it must be the Latinising of some one of the mythological names or epithets that Saxo found in the Norse records. But as no such root as _lis_ or _lís_ is to be found in the old Norse language, and as Saxo interchanges the vowels _i_ and _y_,[27] we must regard _Liserus_ as a Latinising of _Lýsir_, "the shining one," "the one giving light," "the bright one." When Odin sent a helper thus described to Hadding, it must have been a person belonging to Odin's circle and subject to him. Such a person and described by a similar epithet is _hinn hvíti áss, hvítastr ása_ (Heimdal). In Saxo's account, this shining messenger is particularly to oppose Loke (_Hist._, 40). And in the myth it is the keen-sighted and faithful Heimdal who always appears as the opposite of the cunning and faithless Loke. Loke has to contend with Heimdal when the former tries to get possession of Brisingamen, and in Ragnarok the two opponents kill each other. Hadding's shining protector thus has the same part to act in the heroic saga as the whitest of the Asas in the mythology. If we now add that Heimdal is Hadding's progenitor, and on account of blood kinship owes him special protection in a war in which all the gods have taken part either for or against Halfdan's and Alveig's son, then we are forced by every consideration to regard _Liserus_ and Heimdal as identical (see further, No. 82). [Footnote 27: Compare the double forms _Trigo_, _Thrygir_; _Ivarus_, _Yvarus_; _Sibbo_, _Sybbo_; _Siritha_, _Syritha_; _Sivardus_, _Syvardus_; _Hibernia_, _Hybernia_; _Isora_, _Ysora_.] 41. THE WORLD WAR (_continued_). HADDING'S JOURNEY TO THE EAST. RECONCILIATION BETWEEN THE ASAS AND VANS. "THE HUN WAR." HADDING RETURNS AND CONQUERS. RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GROA'S DESCENDANTS AND ALVEIG'S. LOKE'S PUNISHMENT. Some time later there has been a change in Hadding's affairs. He is no longer the exile wandering about in the forests, but appears once more at the head of warlike hosts. But although he accomplishes various exploits, it still appears from Saxo's narrative that it takes a long time before he becomes strong enough to meet his enemies in a decisive battle with hope of success. In the meanwhile he has succeeded in accomplishing the revenge of his father and slaying Svipdag (Saxo _Hist._, 42)--this under circumstances which I shall explain below (No. 106). The proof that the hero-saga has left a long space of time between the great battle lost by Hadding and that in which he wins a decided victory is that he, before this conflict is fought out, has slain a young grandson (son's son) of Svipdag, that is, a son of Asmund, who was Svipdag's son (Saxo, _Hist._, 46). Hadding was a mere boy when Svipdag first tried to capture him. He is a man of years when he, through decided successes on the battle-field, acquires and secures control of a great part of the domain over which his father, the Teutonic patriarch, reigned. Hence he must have spent considerable time in the place of refuge which Odin opened for him, and under the protection of that subject of Odin, called by Saxo _Liserus_. In the time intervening important events have taken place in the world of the gods. The two clans of gods, the Asas and Vans, have become reconciled. Odin's exile lasted, according to Saxo, only ten years, and there is no reason for doubting the mythical correctness of this statement. The reconciliation must have been demanded by the dangers which their enmity caused to the administration of the world. The giants, whose purpose it is to destroy the world of man, became once more dangerous to the earth on account of the war among the gods. During this time they made a desperate effort to conquer Asgard occupied by the Vans. The memory of this expedition was preserved during the Christian centuries in the traditions concerning the great Hun war. Saxo (_Hist._, 231 ff.) refers this to _Frotho_ III.'s reign. What he relates about this _Frotho_, son of _Fridlevus_ (Njord), is for the greatest part a historicised version of the myth about the Vana-god Frey (see No. 102); and every doubt that his account of the war of the "Huns" against Frotho has its foundation in mythology, and belongs to the chain of events here discussed, vanishes when we learn that the attack of the Huns against Frotho-Frey's power happened at a time when an old prophet, by name _Uggerus_, "whose age was unknown, but exceeded every measure of human life," lived in exile, and belonged to the number of Frotho's enemies. _Uggerus_ is a Latinised form of Odin's name _Yggr_, and is the same mythic character as Saxo before introduced on the scene as "the old one-eyed man," Hadding's protector. Although he had been Frotho's enemy, the aged _Yggr_ comes to him and informs him what the "Huns" are plotting, and thus Frotho is enabled to resist their assault.[28] When Odin, out of consideration for the common welfare of mankind and the gods, renders the Vans, who had banished him, this service, and as the latter are in the greatest need of the assistance of the mighty Asa-father and his powerful sons in the conflict with the giant world, then these facts explain sufficiently the reconciliation between the Asas and the Vans. This reconciliation was also in order on account of the bonds of kinship between them. The chief hero of the Asas, Thor, was the stepfather of Ull, the chief warrior of the Vans (Younger Edda, i. 252). The record of a friendly settlement between Thor and Ull is preserved in a paraphrase, by which Thor is described in Thorsdrapa as "_gulli Ullar_," he who with persuasive words makes Ull friendly. Odin was invited to occupy again the high-seat in Asgard, with all the prerogatives of a paterfamilias and ruler (Saxo, _Hist._, 44). But the dispute which caused the conflict between him and the Vans was at the same time manifestly settled to the advantage of the Vans. They do not assume in common the responsibility for the murder of Gulveig Angerboda. She is banished to the Ironwood, but remains there unharmed until Ragnarok, and when the destruction of the world approaches, then Njord shall leave the Asas threatened with the ruin they have themselves caused and return to the "wise Vans" (_i aldar rauc hann mun aptr coma heim med visom vaunom_--Vafthr., 39). The "Hun war" has supplied the answer to a question, which those believing in the myths naturally would ask themselves. That question was: How did it happen that Midgard was not in historical times exposed to such attacks from the dwellers in Jotunheim as occurred in antiquity, and at that time threatened Asgard itself with destruction? The "Hun war" was in the myth characterized by the countless lives lost by the enemy. This we learn from Saxo. The sea, he says, was so filled with the bodies of the slain that boats could hardly be rowed through the waves. In the rivers their bodies formed bridges, and on land a person could make a three days' journey on horseback without seeing anything but dead bodies of the slain (_Hist._, 234, 240). And so the answer to the question was, that the "Hun war" of antiquity had so weakened the giants in number and strength that they could not become so dangerous as they had been to Asgard and Midgard formerly, that is, before the time immediately preceding Ragnarok, when a new fimbul-winter is to set in, and when the giant world shall rise again in all its ancient might. From the time of the "Hun war" and until then, Thor's hammer is able to keep the growth of the giants' race within certain limits, wherefore Thor in Harbardsljod explains his attack on giants and giantesses with _micil mundi ett iotna, ef allir lifdi, vetr mundi manna undir Mithgarthi_. Hadding's rising star of success must be put in connection with the reconciliation between the Asas and Vans. The reconciled gods must lay aside that seed of new feuds between them which is contained in the war between Hadding, the favourite of the Asas, and Gudhorm, the favourite of the Vans. The great defeat once suffered by Hadding must be balanced by a corresponding victory, and then the contending kinsmen must be reconciled. And this happens. Hadding wins a great battle and enters upon a secure reign in his part of Teutondom. Then are tied new bonds of kinship and friendship between the hostile races, so that the Teutonic dynasties of chiefs may trace their descent both from Yngve (Svipdag) and from Borgar's son Halfdan. Hadding and a surviving grandson of Svipdag are united in so tender a devotion to one another that the latter, upon an unfounded report of the former's death, is unable to survive him and takes his own life. And when Hadding learns this, he does not care to live any longer either, but meets death voluntarily (Saxo, _Hist._, 59, 60). After the reconciliation between the Asas and Vans they succeed in capturing Loke. Saxo relates this in connection with Odin's return from Asgard, and here calls Loke _Mitothin_. In regard to this name, we may, without entering upon difficult conjectures concerning the first part of the word, be sure that it, too, is taken by Saxo from the heathen records in which he has found his account of the first great war, and that it, in accordance with the rule for forming such epithets, must refer to a mythic person who has had a certain relation with Odin, and at the same time been his antithesis. According to Saxo, _Mitothin_ is a thoroughly evil being, who, like Aurboda, strove to disseminate the practice of witchcraft in the world and to displace Odin. He was compelled to take flight and to conceal himself from the gods. He is captured and slain, but from his dead body arises a pest, so that he does no less harm after than before his death. It therefore became necessary to open his grave, cut his head off, and pierce his breast with a sharp stick (_Hist._, 43). These statements in regard to _Mitothin's_ death seem at first glance not to correspond very well with the mythic accounts of Loke's exit, and thus give room for doubt as to his identity with the latter. It is also clear that Saxo's narrative has been influenced by the mediæval stories about vampires and evil ghosts, and about the manner of preventing these from doing harm to the living. Nevertheless, all that he here tells, the beheading included, is founded on the mythic accounts of Loke. The place where Loke is fettered is situated in the extreme part of the hell of the wicked dead (see No. 78). The fact that he is relegated to the realm of the dead, and is there chained in a subterranean cavern until Ragnarok, when all the dead in the lower world shall return, has been a sufficient reason for Saxo to represent him as dead and buried. That he after death causes a pest corresponds with Saxo's account of _Ugarthilocus_, who has his prison in a cave under a rock situated in a sea, over which darkness broods for ever (the island _Lyngvi_ in Amsvartner's sea, where Loke's prison is--see No. 78). The hardy sea-captain, Thorkil, seeks and finds him in his cave of torture, pulls a hair from the beard on his chin, and brings it with him to Denmark. When this hair afterwards is exposed and exhibited, the awful exhalation from it causes the death of several persons standing near (_Hist._, 432, 433). When a hair from the beard of the tortured Loke ("a hair from the evil one") could produce this effect, then his whole body removed to the kingdom of death must work even greater mischief, until measures were taken to prevent it. In this connection it is to be remembered that Loke, according to the Icelandic records, is the father of the feminine demon of epidemics and diseases, of her who rules in Niflheim, the home of the spirits of disease (see No. 60), and that it is Loke's daughter who rides the three-footed steed, which appears when an epidemic breaks out (see No. 67). Thus Loke is, according to the Icelandic mythic fragments, the cause of epidemics. Lakasenna also states that he lies with a pierced body, although the weapon there is a sword, or possibly a spear (_pic a hiorvi scola binda god_--Lakas., 49). That Mitothin takes flight and conceals himself from the gods corresponds with the myth about Loke. But that which finally and conclusively confirms the identity of Loke and Mitothin is that the latter, though a thoroughly evil being and hostile to the gods, is said to have risen through the enjoyment of divine favour (_cælesti beneficio vegetatus_). Among male beings of his character this applies to Loke alone. In regard to the statement that Loke after his removal to the kingdom of death had his head separated from his body, Saxo here relates, though in his own peculiar manner, what the myth contained about Loke's ruin, which was a logical consequence of his acts and happened long after his removal to the realm of death. Loke is slain in Ragnarok, to which he, freed from his cave of torture in the kingdom of death, proceeds at the head of the hosts of "the sons of destruction." In the midst of the conflict he seeks or is sought by his constant foe, Heimdal. The shining god, the protector of Asgard, the original patriarch and benefactor of man, contends here for the last time with the Satan of the Teutonic mythology, and Heimdal and Loke mutually slay each other (_Loki á orustu vid Heimdall, ok verdr hvârr annars bani_--Younger Edda, 192). In this duel we learn that Heimdal, who fells his foe, was himself pierced or "struck through" to death by a head (_svâ er sagt, at hann var lostinn manns höfdi i gögnum_--Younger Edda, 264; _hann var lostinn i hel med manns höfdi_--Younger Edda, 100, ed. Res). When Heimdal and Loke mutually cause each other's death, this must mean that Loke's head is that with which Heimdal is pierced after the latter has cut it off with his sword and become the bane (death) of his foe. Light is thrown on this episode by what Saxo tells about Loke's head. While the demon in chains awaits Ragnarok, his hair and beard grow in such a manner that "they in size and stiffness resemble horn-spears" (_Ugarthilocus ... cujus olentes pili tam magnitudine quam rigore corneas æquaverant hastas_--_Hist._, 431, 432). And thus it is explained how the myth could make his head act the part of a weapon. That amputated limbs continue to live and fight is a peculiarity mentioned in other mythic sagas, and should not surprise us in regard to Loke, the dragon-demon, the father of the Midgard-serpent (see further, No. 82). [Footnote 28: _Deseruit eum_ (Hun) _quoque Uggerus vates, vir ætatis incognitæ et supra humanum terminum prolixæ; qui Frothonem transfugæ titulo petens quidquid ab Hunis parabatur edocuit_ (_Hist._, 238).] 42. HALFDAN AND HAMAL FOSTER-BROTHERS. THE AMALIANS FIGHT IN BEHALF OF HALFDAN'S SON HADDING. HAMAL AND THE WEDGE-FORMED BATTLE-ARRAY. THE ORIGINAL MODEL OF THE BRAVALLA BATTLE. The mythic progenitor of the Amalians, _Hamall_, has already been mentioned above as the foster-brother of the Teutonic patriarch, Halfdan (Helge Hundingsbane). According to Norse tradition, Hamal's father, _Hagall_, had been Halfdan's foster-father (Helge Hund., ii.), and thus the devoted friend of Borgar. There being so close a relation between the progenitors of these great hero-families of Teutonic mythology, it is highly improbable that the Amalians did not also act an important part in the first great world war, since all the Teutonic tribes, and consequently surely their first families of mythic origin, took part in it. In the ancient records of the North, we discover a trace which indicates that the Amalians actually did fight on that side where we should expect to find them, that is, on Hadding's, and that Hamal himself was the field-commander of his foster-brother. The trace is found in the phrase _fylkja Hamalt_, occurring in several places (Sig. Faf., ii. 23; Har. Hardr., ch. 2; Fornalds. Saga, ii. 40; Fornm., xi. 304). The phrase can only be explained in one way, "arranged the battle-array as _Hamall_ first did it." To Hamal has also been ascribed the origin of the custom of fastening the shields close together along the ship's railing, which appears from the following lines in Harald Hardrade's Saga, 63: Hamalt syndiz mèr hömlur hildings vinir skilda. We also learn in our Norse records that _fylkja Hamalt_, "to draw up in line of battle as Hamal did," means the same as _svinfylkja_, that is, to arrange the battalions in the form of a wedge.[29] Now Saxo relates (_Hist._, 52) that Hadding's army was the first to draw the forces up in this manner, and that an old man (Odin) whom he has taken on board on a sea-journey had taught and advised him to do this.[30] Several centuries later Odin, according to Saxo, taught this art to Harald Hildetand. But the mythology has not made Odin teach it twice. The repetition has its reason in the fact that Harald Hildetand, in one of the records accessible to Saxo, was a son of Halfdan Borgarson (_Hist._, 361; according to other records a son of Borgar himself--_Hist._, 337), and consequently a son of Hadding's father, the consequence of which is that features of Hadding's saga have been incorporated into the saga produced in a later time concerning the saga-hero Harald Hildetand. Thereby the Bravalla battle has obtained so universal and gigantic a character. It has been turned into an arbitrarily written version of the battle which ended in Hadding's defeat. Swedes, Goths, Norsemen, Curians, and Esthonians here fight on that side which, in the original model of the battle, was represented by the hosts of Svipdag and Gudhorm; Danes (few in number, according to Saxo), Saxons (according to Saxo, the main part of the army), Livonians, and Slavs fight on the other side. The fleets and armies are immense on both sides. Shield-maids (amazons) occupy the position which in the original was held by the giantesses Hardgrep, Fenja, and Menja. In the saga description produced in Christian times the Bravalla battle is a ghost of the myth concerning the first great war. Therefore the names of several of the heroes who take part in the battle are an echo from the myth concerning the Teutonic patriarchs and the great war. There appear _Borgar_ and _Behrgar_ the wise (Borgar), _Haddir_ (Hadding), _Ruthar_ (_Hrútr_-Heimdal, see No. 28_a_), _Od_ (_Odr_, a surname of Freyja's, husband, Svipdag, see Nos. 96-98, 100, 101), _Brahi_ (_Brache_, _Asa-Bragr_, see No. 102), _Gram_ (Halfdan), and _Ingi_ (Yngve), all of which names we recognise from the patriarch saga, but which, in the manner in which they are presented in the new saga, show how arbitrarily the mythic records were treated at that time. The myth has rightly described the wedge-shaped arrangement of the troops as an ancient custom among the Teutons. Tacitus (_Germ._, 6) says that the Teutons arranged their forces in the form of a wedge (_acies per cuneos componitur_), and Cæsar suggests the same (_De Bell. Gall._, i. 52: _Germani celeriter ex consuetudine sua phalange facta_...). Thus our knowledge of this custom as Teutonic extends back to the time before the birth of Christ. Possibly it was then already centuries old. The Aryan-Asiatic kinsmen of the Teutons had knowledge of it, and the Hindooic law-book, called Manus', ascribes to it divine sanctity and divine origin. On the geographical line which unites Teutondom with Asia it was also in vogue. According to Ælianus (_De instr. ac._, 18), the wedge-shaped array of battle was known to the Scythians and Thracians. The statement that Harald Hildetand, son of Halfdan Borgarson, learned this arrangement of the forces from Odin many centuries after he had taught the art to Hadding, does not disprove, but on the contrary confirms, the theory that Hadding, son of Halfdan Borgarson, was not only the first but also the only one who received this instruction from the Asa-father. And as we now have side by side the two statements, that Odin gave Hadding this means of victory, and that Hamal was the first one who arranged his forces in the shape of a wedge, then it is all the more necessary to assume that these statements belong together, and that Hamal was Hadding's general, especially as we have already seen that Hadding's and Hamal's families were united by the sacred ties which connect foster-father with foster-son and foster-brother with foster-brother. [Footnote 29: Compare the passage, _Eirikr konungr fylkti svá lidi sinu, at rani (the swine-snout) var á framan á fylkinganni, ok lukt allt útan med skjaldbjorg_, (Fornm., xi. 304), with the passage quoted in this connection: _hildingr fylkti Hamalt lidi miklu_.] [Footnote 30: The saga of Sigurd Fafnersbane, which absorbed materials from all older sagas, has also incorporated this episode. On a sea-journey Sigurd takes on board a man who calls himself _Hnikarr_ (a name of Odin). He advises him to "_fylkja Hamalt_" (Sig. Fafn., ii. 16-23).] 43. EVIDENCE THAT DIETERICH "OF BERN" IS HADDING. THE DIETERICH SAGA THUS HAS ITS ORIGIN IN THE MYTH CONCERNING THE WAR BETWEEN MANNUS-HALFDAN'S SONS. The appearance of Hamal and the Amalians on Hadding's side in the great world war becomes a certainty from the fact that we discover among the descendants of the continental Teutons a great cycle of sagas, all of whose events are more or less intimately connected with the mythic kernel: that Amalian heroes with unflinching fidelity supported a prince who already in the tender years of his youth had been deprived of his share of his father's kingdom, and was obliged to take flight from the persecution of a kinsman and his assistants to the far East, where he remained a long time, until after various fortunes of war he was able to return, conquer, and take possession of his paternal inheritance. And for this he was indebted to the assistance of the brave Amalians. These are the chief points in the saga cycle about Dieterich of Bern (_thjódrekr_, _Thidrek_, _Theodericus_), and the fortunes of the young prince are, as we have thus seen, substantially the same as Hadding's. When we compare sagas preserved by the descendants of the Teutons of the Continent with sagas handed down to us from Scandinavian sources, we must constantly bear in mind that the great revolution which the victory of Christianity over Odinism produced in the Teutonic world of thought, inasmuch as it tore down the ancient mythical structure and applied the fragments that were fit for use as material for a new saga structure--that this revolution required a period of more than eight hundred years before it had conquered the last fastnesses of the Odinic doctrine. On the one side of the slowly advancing borders between the two religions there developed and continued a changing and transformation of the old sagas, the main purpose of which was to obliterate all that contained too much flavour of heathendom and was incompatible with Christianity; while, on the other side of the borders of faith, the old mythic songs, but little affected by the tooth of time, still continued to live in their original form. Thus one might, to choose the nearest example at hand, sing on the northern side of this faith-border, where heathendom still prevailed, about how Hadding, when the persecutions of Svipdag and his half-brother Gudhorm compelled him to fly to the far East, there was protected by Odin, and how he through him received the assistance of _Hrútr-Heimdall_; while the Christians, on the south side of this border, sang of how Dieterich, persecuted by a brother and the protectors of the latter, was forced to take flight to the far East, and how he was there received by a mighty king, who, as he could no longer be Odin, must be the mightiest king in the East ever heard of--that is, Attila--and how Attila gave him as protector a certain Rüdiger, whose very name contains an echo of Ruther (Heimdal), who could not, however, be the white Asa-god, Odin's faithful servant, but must be changed into a faithful vassal and "markgrave" under Attila. The Saxons were converted to Christianity by fire and sword in the latter part of the eighth century. In the deep forests of Sweden heathendom did not yield completely to Christianity before the twelfth century. In the time of Saxo's father there were still heathen communities in Smaland on the Danish border. It follows that Saxo must have received the songs concerning the ancient Teutonic heroes in a far more original form than that in which the same songs could be found in Germany. Hadding means "the hairy one," "the fair-haired;" Dieterich (_thjódrekr_) means "the ruler of the people," "the great ruler." Both epithets belong to one and the same saga character. Hadding is the epithet which belongs to him as a youth, before he possessed a kingdom; Dieterich is the epithet which represents him as the king of many Teutonic tribes. The Vilkinsaga says of him that he had an abundant and beautiful growth of hair, but that he never got a beard. This is sufficient to explain the name Hadding, by which he was presumably celebrated in song among all Teutonic tribes; for we have already seen that Hadding is known in Anglo-Saxon poetry as Hearding, and, as we shall see, the continental Teutons knew him not only as Dieterich, but also as Hartung. It is also possible that the name "the hairy" has in the myth had the same purport as the epithet "the fair-haired" has in the Norse account of Harald, Norway's first ruler, and that Hadding of the myth was the prototype of Harald, when the latter made the vow to let his hair grow until he was king of all Norway (Harald Harfager's Saga, 4). The custom of not cutting hair or beard before an exploit resolved upon was carried out was an ancient one among the Teutons, and so common and so sacred that it must have had foothold and prototype in the hero-saga. Tacitus mentions it (_Germania_, 31); so does Paulus Diaconus (_Hist._, iii. 7) and Gregorius of Tours (v. 15). Although it had nearly ceased to be heard in the German saga cycle, still the name Hartung has there left traces of its existence. "Anhang des Heldenbuchs" mentions King Hartung _aus Reüssenlant_; that is to say, a King Hartung who came from some land in the East. The poem "Rosengarten" (variant D; cp. W. Grimm, _D. Heldensage_, 139, 253) also mentions Hartunc, king _von Riuzen_. A comparison of the different versions of "Rosengarten" with the poem "Dieterichs Flucht" shows that the name Hartung _von Riuzen_ in the course of time becomes Hartnit _von Riuzen_ and Hertnit _von Riuzen_, by which form of the name the hero reappears in Vilkinasaga as a king in Russia. If we unite the scattered features contained in these sources about Hartung we get the following main outlines of his saga: (_a_) Hartung is a king and dwells in an eastern country (all the records). (_b_) He is not, however, an independent ruler there, at least not in the beginning, but is subject to Attila (who in the Dieterich's saga has supplanted Odin as chief ruler in the East). He is Attila's man ("Dieterichs Flucht"). (_c_) A Swedish king has robbed him of his land and driven him into exile. (_d_) The Swedish king is of the race of elves, and the chief of the same race as the celebrated Velint--that is to say, Volund (Wayland)--belonged to (Vilkinasaga). As shall be shown later (see Nos. 108, 109), Svipdag, the banisher of Hadding, belongs to the same race. He is Volund's nephew (brother's son). (_e_) Hartung recovers, after the death of the Swedish conqueror, his own kingdom, and also conquers that of the Swedish king (Vilkinasaga). All these features are found in the saga of Hadding. Thus the original identity of Hadding and Hartung is beyond doubt. We also find that Hartung, like Dieterich, is banished from his country; that he fled, like him, to the East; that he got, like him, Attila the king of the East as his protector; that he thereupon returned, conquered his enemies, and recovered his kingdom. Hadding's, Hartung's and Dieterich's sagas are, therefore, one and the same in root and in general outline. Below it shall also be shown that the most remarkable details are common to them all. I have above (No. 42) given reasons why Hamal (Amala), the foster-brother of Halfdan Borgarson, was Hadding's assistant and general in the war against his foes. The hero, who in the German saga has the same place under Dieterich, is the aged "master" Hildebrand, Dieterich's faithful companion, teacher, and commander of his troops. Can it be demonstrated that what the German saga tells about Hildebrand reveals threads that connect him with the saga of the original patriarchs, and that not only his position as Dieterich's aged friend and general, but also his genealogy, refer to this saga? And can a satisfactory explanation be given of the reason why Hildebrand obtained in the German Dieterich saga the same place as Hamal had in the old myth? Hildebrand is, as his very name shows, a Hilding,[31] like Hildeger who appears in the patriarch saga (Saxo, _Hist._, 356-359). Hildeger was, according to the tradition in Saxo, the half-brother of Halfdan Borgarson. They had the same mother _Drot_, but not the same father; Hildeger counted himself a Swede on his father's side; Halfdan, Borgar's son, considered himself as belonging to the South Scandinavians and Danes, and hence the dying Hildeger sings to Halfdan (_Hist._, 357): Danica te tellus, me Sveticus edidit orbis. Drot tibi maternum, quondam distenderat uber; Hac genitrici tibi pariter collacteus exto.[32] In the German tradition Hildebrand is the son of Herbrand. The Old High German fragment of the song, about Hildebrand's meeting with his son Hadubrand, calls him _Heribrantes sunu_. Herbrand again is, according to the poem "Wolfdieterich," Berchtung's son (concerning Berchtung, see No. 6). In a Norse tradition preserved by Saxo we find a Hilding (Hildeger) who is Borgar's stepson; in the German tradition we find a Hilding (Herbrand) who is Borgar-Berchtung's son. This already shows that the German saga about Hildebrand was originally connected with the patriarch saga about Borgar, Halfdan, and Halfdan's sons, and that the Hildings from the beginning were akin to the Teutonic patriarchs. Borgar's transformation from stepfather to the father of a Hilding shall be explained below. Hildeger's saga and Hildebrand's are also related in subject matter. The fortunes of both the kinsmen are at the same time like each other and the antithesis of each other. Hildeger's character is profoundly tragic; Hildebrand is happy and secure. Hildeger complains in his death-song in Saxo (cp. Asmund Kæmpebane's saga) that he has fought with and slain his own beloved son. In the Old High German song-fragment Hildebrand seeks, after his return from the East, his son Hadubrand, who believed that his father was dead and calls Hildebrand a deceiver, who has taken the dead man's name, and forces him to fight a duel. The fragment ends before we learn the issue of the duel; but Vilkinasaga and a ballad about Hildebrand have preserved the tradition in regard to it. When the old "master" has demonstrated that his Hadubrand is not yet equal to him in arms, father and son ride side by side in peace and happiness to their home. Both the conflicts between father and son, within the Hilding family, are pendants and each other's antithesis. Hildeger, who passionately loves war and combat, inflicts in his eagerness for strife a deep wound in his own heart when he kills his own son. Hildebrand acts wisely, prudently, and seeks to ward off and allay the son's love of combat before the duel begins, and he is able to end it by pressing his young opponent to his paternal bosom. On the other hand, Hildeger's conduct toward his half-brother Halfdan, the ideal of a noble and generous enemy, and his last words to his brother, who, ignorant of the kinship, has given him the fatal wound, and whose mantle the dying one wishes to wrap himself in (Asmund Kæmpebane's saga), is one of the touching scenes in the grand poems about our earliest ancestors. It seems to have proclaimed that blood revenge was inadmissible, when a kinsman, without being aware of the kinship, slays a kinsman, and when the latter before he died declared his devotion to his slayer. At all events we rediscover the aged Hildebrand as the teacher and protector of the son of the same Halfdan who slew Hildeger, and not a word is said about blood revenge between Halfdan's and Hildeger's descendants. The kinship pointed out between the Teutonic patriarchs and the Hildings has not, however, excluded a relation of subordination of the latter to the former. In "Wolfdieterich" Hildebrand's father receives land and fief from Dieterich's grandfather and carries his banner in war. Hildebrand himself performs toward Dieterich those duties which are due from a foster-father, which, as a rule, show a relation of subordination to the real father of the foster-son. Among the kindred families to which Dieterich and Hildebrand belong there was the same difference of rank as between those to which Hadding and Hamal belong. Hamal's father Hagal was Halfdan's foster-father, and, to judge from this, occupied the position of a subordinate friend toward Halfdan's father Borgar. Thus Halfdan and Hamal were foster-brothers, and from this it follows that Hamal, if he survived Halfdan, was bound to assume a foster-father's duties towards the latter's son Hadding, who was not yet of age. Hamal's relation to Hadding is therefore entirely analagous to Hildebrand's relation to Dieterich. The pith of that army which attached itself to Dieterich are Amelungs, Amalians (see "Biterolf"); that is to say, members of Hamal's race. The oldest and most important hero, the pith of the pith, is old master Hildebrand himself, Dieterich's foster-father and general. Persons who in the German poems have names which refer to their Amalian birth are by Hildebrand treated as members of a clan are treated by a clan-chief. Thus Hildebrand brings from Sweden a princess, Amalgart, and gives her as wife to a son of Amelolt serving among Dieterich's Amelungs, and to Amelolt Hildebrand has already given his sister for a wife. The question as to whether we find threads which connect the Hildebrand of the German poem with the saga of the mythic patriarchs, and especially with the Hamal (Amala) who appears in this saga, has now been answered. Master Hildebrand has in the German saga-cycle received the position and the tasks which originally belonged to Hamal, the progenitor of the Amalians. The relation between the kindred families--the patriarch family, the Hilding family, and the Amal family--has certainly been just as distinctly pointed out in the German saga-cycle as in the Norse before the German met with a crisis, which to some extent confused the old connection. This crisis came when Hadding-_thjódrekr_ of the ancient myth was confounded with the historical king of the East Goths, Theoderich. The East Goth Theoderich counted himself as belonging to the Amal family, which had grown out of the soil of the myth. He was, according to Jordanes (_De Goth. Orig._, 14), a son of Thiudemer, who traced his ancestry to Amal (Hamal), son of Augis (Hagal).[33] The result of the confusion was: (_a_) That Hadding-_thjódrekr_ became the son of Thiudemer, and that his descent from the Teuton patriarchs was cut off. (_b_) That Hadding-_thjódrekr_ himself became a descendant of Hamal, whereby the distinction between this race of rulers--the line of Teutonic patriarchs begun with Ruther Heimdal--together with the Amal family, friendly but subject to the Hadding family, and the Hilding family was partly obscured and partly abolished. Dieterich himself became an "Amelung" like several of his heroes. (_c_) That when Hamal thus was changed from an elder contemporary of Hadding-_thjódrekr_ into his earliest progenitor, separated from him by several generations of time, he could no longer serve as Dieterich's foster-father and general; but this vocation had to be transferred to master Hildebrand, who also in the myth must have been closely connected with Hadding, and, together with Hamal, one of his chief and constant helpers. (_d_) That Borgar-Berchtung, who in the myth is the grandfather of Hadding-_thjódrekr_, must, as he was not an Amal, resign this dignity and confine himself to being the progenitor of the Hildings. As we have seen, he is in Saxo the progenitor of the Hilding Hildeger. Another result of Hadding-_thjódrekr's_ confusion with the historical Theoderich was that Dieterich's kingdom, and the scene of various of his exploits, was transferred to Italy: to Verona (Bern), Ravenna (Raben), &c. Still the strong stream of the ancient myths became master of the confused historical increments, so that the Dieterich of the saga has but little in common with the historical Theoderich. After the dissemination of Christianity, the hero saga of the Teutonic myths was cut off from its roots in the mythology, and hence this confusion was natural and necessary. Popular tradition, in which traces were found of the historical Theoderich-Dieterich, was no longer able to distinguish the one Dieterich from the other. A writer acquainted with the chronicle of Jordanes took the last step and made Theoderich's father Thiudemer the father of the mythic Hadding-_thjódrekr_. Nor did the similarity of names alone encourage this blending of the persons. There was also another reason. The historical Theoderich had fought against Odoacer. The mythic Hadding-_thjódrekr_ had warred with Svipdag, the husband of Freyja, who also bore the name _Ódr_ and _Ottar_ (see Nos. 96-100). The latter name-form corresponds to the English and German _Otter_, the Old High German _Otar_, a name which suggested the historical _Otacher_ (Odoacer). The Dieterich and Otacher of historical traditions became identified with _thjódrekr_ and _Ottar_ of mythical traditions. As the Hadding-_thjódrekr_ of mythology was in his tender youth exposed to the persecutions of Ottar, and had to take flight from them to the far East, so the Dieterich of the historical saga also had to suffer persecutions in his tender youth from Otacher, and take flight, accompanied by his faithful Amalians, to a kingdom in the East. Accordingly, Hadubrand says of his father Hildebrand, that, when he betook himself to the East with Dieterich, _floh her Otachres nîd_, "he fled from Otacher's hate." Therefore, Otacher soon disappears from the German saga-cycle, for Svipdag-Ottar perishes and disappears in the myth, long before Hadding's victory and restoration to his father's power (see No. 106). Odin and Heimdal, who then, according to the myth, dwelt in the East and there became the protectors of Hadding, must, as heathen deities, be removed from the Christian saga, and be replaced as best they could by others. The famous ruler in the East, Attila, was better suited than anyone else to take Odin's place, though Attila was dead before Theoderich was born. Ruther-Heimdal was, as we have already seen, changed into Rüdiger. The myth made Hadding dwell in the East for many years (see above). The ten-year rule of the Vans in Asgard must end, and many other events must occur before the epic connection of the myths permitted Hadding to return as a victor. As a result of this, the saga of "Dieterich of Bern" also lets him remain a long time with Attila. An old English song preserved in the Exeter manuscript, makes _Theodric_ remain _thrittig wintra_ in exile at Mæringaburg. The song about Hildebrand and Hadubrand make him remain in exile _sumarô enti wintro sehstic_, and Vilkinasaga makes him sojourn in the East thirty-two years. Mæringaburg of the Anglo-Saxon poem is the refuge which Odin opened for his favourite, and where the former dwelt during his exile in the East. Mæringaburg means a citadel inhabited by noble, honoured, and splendid persons: compare the Old Norse _mæringr_. But the original meaning of _mærr_, Old German _mâra_, is "glittering," "shining," "pure," and it is possible that, before _mæringr_ received its general signification of a famous, honoured, noble man, it was used in the more special sense of a man descended from "the shining one," that is to say, from Heimdal through Borgar. However this may be, these "mæringar" have, in the Anglo-Saxon version of the Hadding saga, had their antitheses in the "baningar," that is, the men of Loke-Bicke (Bekki). This appears from the expression _Bekka veóld Baningum_, in Codex Exoniensis. The Banings are no more than the Mærings, an historical name. The interpretation of the word is to be sought in the Anglo-Saxon _bana_, the English _bane_. The Banings means "the destroyers," "the corrupters," a suitable appellation of those who follow the source of pest, the all-corrupting Loke. In the German poems, Mæringaburg is changed to Meran, and Borgar-Berchtung (Hadding's grandfather in the myth) is Duke of Meran. It is his fathers who have gone to the gods that Hadding finds again with Odin and Heimdal in the East. Despite the confusion of the historical Theoderich with the mythic Hadding-_thjódrekr_, a tradition has been handed down within the German saga-cycle to the effect that "Dieterich of Bern" belonged to a genealogy which Christianity had anathematised. Two of the German Dieterich poems, "Nibelunge Noth" and "Klage," refrain from mentioning the ancestors of their hero. Wilhelm Grimm suspects that the reason for this is that the authors of these poems knew something about Dieterich's descent, which they could not relate without wounding Christian ears; and he reminds us that, when the Vilkinasaga Thidrek (Dieterich) teases Högne (Hagen) by calling him the son of an elf, Högne answers that Thidrek has a still worse descent, as he is the son of the devil himself. The matter, which in Grimm's eyes is mystical, is explained by the fact that Hadding-_thjódrekr's_ father in the myth, Halfdan Borgarson, was supposed to be descended from Thor, and in his capacity of a Teutonic patriarch he had received divine worship (see Nos. 23 and 30). _Anhang des Heldenbuchs_ says that Dieterich was the son of a "böser geyst." It has already been stated (No. 38) that Hadding from Odin received a drink which exercised a wonderful influence upon his physical nature. It made him _recreatum vegetiori corporis firmitate_, and, thanks to it and to the incantation sung over him by Odin, he was able to free himself from the chains afterwards put on him by Loke. It has also been pointed out that this drink contained something called Leifner's or Leifin's flames. There is every reason for assuming that these "flames" had the effect of enabling the person who had partaken of the potion of Leifner's flames to free himself from his chains with his own breath. Groa (Groagalder, 10) gives her son Svipdag "Leifner's fires" in order that if he is chained, his enchanted limbs may be liberated (_ek læt ther Leifnis elda fyr kvedinn legg_). The record of the giving of this gift to Hadding meets us in the German saga, in the form that Dieterich was able with his breath to burn the fetters laid upon him (see "Laurin"), nay, when he became angry, he could breathe fire and make the cuirass of his opponent red-hot. The tradition that Hadding by eating, on the advice of Odin, the heart of a wild beast (Saxo says of a lion) gained extraordinary strength, is also preserved in the form, that when Dieterich was in distress, God sent him _eines löwen krafft von herczenlichen zoren_ ("Ecken Ausfarth"). Saxo relates that Hadding on one occasion was invited to descend into the lower world and see its strange things (see No. 47). The heathen lower world, with its fields of bliss and places of torture, became in the Christian mind synonymous with hell. Hadding's descent to the lower world, together with the mythic account of his journey through the air on Odin's horse Sleipner, were remembered in Christian times in the form that he once on a black diabolical horse rode to hell. This explains the remarkable _dénouement_ of the Dieterich saga; namely, that he, the magnanimous and celebrated hero, was captured by the devil. Otto of Friesingen (first half of the twelfth century) states that _Theodoricus vivus equo sedens ad inferos descendit_. The Kaiser chronicle says that "many saw that the devils took Dieterich and carried him into the mountain to Vulcan." In Saxo we read that Hadding once while bathing had an adventure which threatened him with the most direful revenge from the gods (see No. 106). Manuscripts of the Vilkinasaga speak of a fateful bath which Thidrek took, and connects it with his journey to hell. While the hero was bathing there came a black horse, the largest and stateliest ever seen. The king wrapped himself in his bath towel and mounted the horse. He found, too late, that the steed was the devil, and he disappeared for ever. [Illustration: ODIN PUNISHES THE MONSTROUS PROGENY OF LOKE. (_From an etching by Lorenz Frölich Frölloh._) Loke was at one time the comrade of Odin but by his mismating with a giantess, Angerboda, he became the father of three monsters, the Fenris Wolf, the Midgard Serpent and the terrible Hel, at the sight of which latter living creatures were immediately stricken dead. Odin was so enraged by these issues of Loke's commerce with a giantess, that he had the brood brought before him in Asgard, and seizing Hel and the snake in his powerful arms he flung them far out into space. Hel fell for nine days until she reached Helheim, far beneath the earth, where she became ruler over the dead. The snake dropped into the ocean that surrounds Midgard, where it was to remain growing until its coils should envelop the earth and in the end should help to bring about the destruction of the world. The Wolf was borne away by Tyr and placed in chains, but escaping later at Ragnarok he devoured Odin.] Saxo tells that Hadding made war on a King Handuanus, who had concealed his treasures in the bottom of a lake, and who was obliged to ransom his life with a golden treasure of the same weight as his body (_Hist._. 41, 42, 67). Handuanus is a Latinised form of the dwarf name _Andvanr, Andvani_. The Sigurd saga has a record of this event, and calls the dwarf _Andvari_ (Sig. Fafn., ii.). The German saga is also able to tell of a war which Dieterich waged against a dwarf king. The war has furnished the materials for the saga of "Laurin." Here, too, the conquered dwarf-king's life is spared, and Dieterich gets possession of many of his treasures. In the German as in the Norse saga, Hadding-_thjódrekr's_ rival to secure the crown was his brother, supported by _Otacher-Ottar_ (Svipdag). The tradition in regard to this, which agrees with the myth, was known to the author of _Anhang des Heldenbuchs_. But already in an early day the brother was changed into uncle on account of the intermixing of historical reminiscences. The brother's name in the Norse tradition is _Gudhormr_, in the German _Ermenrich_ (_Ermanaricus_). _Ermenrich Jörmunrekr_ means, like _thjódrekr_, a ruler over many people, a great king. Jordanes already has confounded the mythic _Jörmunrekr-Gudhormr_ with the historical Gothic King _Hermanaricus_, whose kingdom was destroyed by the Huns, and has applied to him the saga of Svanhild and her brothers _Sarus_ (_Sörli_) and _Ammius_ (_Hamdir_), a saga which originally was connected with that of the mythic _Jörmunrek_. The Sigurd epic, which expanded with plunder from all sources, has added to the confusion by annexing this saga. In the Roman authors the form _Herminones_ is found by the side of _Hermiones_ as the name of one of the three Teutonic tribes which descended from Mannus. It is possible, as already indicated, that _-horm_ in _Gudhorm_ is connected with the form _Hermio_, and it is probable, as already pointed out by several linguists, that the Teutonic _irmin_ (_jörmun_, Goth. _airmana_) is linguistically connected with the word _Hermino_. In that case, the very names _Gudhormr_ and _Jörmunrekr_ already point as such to the mythic progenitor of the Hermiones, Herminones, just as Yngve-Svipdag's name points to the progenitor of the _Ingvæones_ (Ingævones), and possibly also Hadding's to that of the Istævones (see No. 25). To the name Hadding corresponds, as already shown, the Anglo-Saxon Hearding, the old German Hartung. The _Hasdingi_ (_Asdingi_) mentioned by Jordanes were the chief warriors of the Vandals (_Goth. Orig._, 22), and there may be a mythic reason for rediscovering this family name among an East Teutonic tribe (the Vandals), since Hadding, according to the myth, had his support among the East Teutonic tribes. To the form _Hasdingi_ (Goth. _Hazdiggós_) the words _istævones_, _istvæones_, might readily enough correspond, provided the vowel _i_ in the Latin form can be harmonised with _a_ in the Teutonic. That the vowel _i_ was an uncertain element may be seen from the genealogy in Codex La Cava, which calls Istævo _Ostius_, _Hostius_. As to geography, both the Roman and Teutonic records agree that the northern Teutonic tribes were Ingævones. In the myths they are Scandinavians and neighbours to the Ingævones. In the Beowulf poem the king of the Danes is called _eodor Inguina_, the protection of the Ingævones, and _freâ Inguina_, the lord of the Ingævones. Tacitus says that they live nearest to the ocean (_Germ._, 2); Pliny says that Cimbrians, Teutons, and Chaucians were Ingævones (_Hist. Nat._, iv. 28). Pomponius Mela says that the land of the Cimbrians and Teutons was washed by the Codan bay (iii. 3). As to the Hermiones and Istævones, the former dwelt along the middle Rhine, and of the latter, who are the East Teutons of mythology, several tribes had already before the time of Pliny pressed forward south of the Hermiones to this river. The German saga-cycle has preserved the tradition that in the first great battle in which Hadding-_thjódrekr_ measured his strength with the North and West Teutons he suffered a great defeat. This is openly avowed in the Dieterich poem "die Klage." Those poems, on the other hand, which out of sympathy for their hero give him victory in this battle ("the Raben battle") nevertheless in fact acknowledge that such was not the case, for they make him return to the East after the battle and remain there many years, robbed of his crown, before he makes his second and successful attempt to regain his kingdom. Thus the "Raben battle" corresponds to the mythic battle in which Hadding is defeated by Ingævones and Hermiones. Besides the "Raben battle" has from a Teutonic standpoint a trait of universality, and the German tradition has upon the whole faithfully, and in harmony with the myth, grouped the allies and heroes of the hostile brothers. Dieterich is supported by East Teutonic warriors, and by non-Teutonic people from the East--from Poland, Wallachia, Russia, Greece, &c.; Ermenrich, on the other hand, by chiefs from Thuringia, Swabia, Hessen, Saxony, the Netherlands, England, and the North, and, above all, by the Burgundians, who in the genealogy in the St. Gaelen Codex are counted among the Hermiones, and in the genealogy in the La Cava Codex are counted with the Ingævones. For the mythic descent of the Burgundian dynasty from an uncle of Svipdag I shall present evidence in my chapters on the Ivalde race. The original identity of Hadding's and Dieterich's sagas, and their descent from the myth concerning the earliest antiquity and the patriarchs, I now regard as demonstrated and established. The war between Hadding-Dieterich and Gudhorm-Ermenrich is identical with the conflict begun by Yngve-Svipdag between the tribes of the Ingævones, Hermiones, and Istævones. It has also been demonstrated that Halfdan, Gudhorm's, and Hadding's father, and Yngve-Svipdag's stepfather, is identical with Mannus. One of the results of this investigation is, therefore, that _the songs about Mannus and his sons, ancient already in the days of Tacitus, have, more or less influenced by the centuries, continued to live far down in the middle ages, and that, not the songs themselves, but the main features of their contents, have been preserved to our time_, and should again be incorporated in our mythology together with the myth in regard to the primeval time, the main outline of which has been restored, and the final episode of which is the first great war in the world. The Norse-Icelandic school, which accepted and developed the learned hypothesis of the middle age in regard to the immigration of Odin and his Asiamen, is to blame that the myth, in many respects important, in regard to the olden time and its events in the world of gods and men--among Aryan myths one of the most important, either from a scientific or poetic point of view, that could be handed down to our time--was thrust aside and forgotten. The learned hypothesis and the ancient myth could not be harmonised. For that reason the latter had to yield. Nor was there anything in this myth that particularly appealed to the Norse national feeling, and so could claim mercy. Norway is not at all named in it. Scania, Denmark, Svithiod (Sweden), and continental Teutondom are the scene of the mythic events. Among the many causes co-operating in Christian times, in giving what is now called "Norse mythology" its present character, there is not one which has contributed so much as the rejection of this myth toward giving "Norse mythology" the stamp which it hitherto has borne of a narrow, illiberal town mythology, which, built chiefly on the foundation of the Younger Edda, is, as shall be shown in the present work, in many respects a caricature of the real Norse, and at the same time in its main outlines Teutonic, mythology. In regard to the ancient Aryan elements in the myth here presented, see Nos. 82 and 111. [Footnote 31: In nearly all the names of members of this family, Hild- or -brand, appears as a part of the compound word. All that the names appear to signify is that their owners belong to the Hilding race. Examples:-- _Old High German fragment._ Herbrand - Hildebrand - Hadubrand. _Wolfdieterich_ Berchtung. - Herbrand - Hildebrand. _Vilkinasaga._ Hildebrand. - Alebrand. _A popular song about Hildebrand._ Hildebrand. - The younger Hildebrand. / Hildir. _Fundin Noregur._ Hildir. - Hildebrand. \ Herbrand. / Hildir. _Flateybook, i. 25,_ Hildir. - Hildebrand. - Vigbrand. \ Herbrand. _Asmund Kæmpebane's Saga._ Hildebrand. - Helge. - Hildebrand. ] [Footnote 32: Compare in Asmund Kæmpebane's saga the words of the dying hero: _thik Drott of bar af Danmorku en mik sjálfan á Svithiodu._ ] [Footnote 33: The texts of Jordanes often omit the aspirate and write Eruli for Heruli, &c. In regard to the name-form Amal, Closs remarks, in his edition of 1886: AMAL, _sic, Ambr. cum Epit. et Pall, nisi quod hi Hamal aspirate_.] IV. THE MYTH IN REGARD TO THE LOWER WORLD. 44. MIDDLE AGE SAGAS WITH ROOTS IN THE MYTH CONCERNING THE LOWER WORLD. ERIK VIDFORLE'S SAGA. Far down in Christian times there prevailed among the Scandinavians the idea that their heathen ancestors had believed in the existence of a place of joy, from which sorrow, pain, blemishes, age, sickness, and death were excluded. This place of joy was called _Ódáinsakr_, the-acre-of-the-not-dead, _Jörd lifanda manna_, the earth of living men. It was situated not in heaven but below, either on the surface of the earth or in the lower world, but it was separated from the lands inhabited by men in such a manner that it was not impossible, but nevertheless exceeding perilous, to get there. A saga from the fourteenth century incorporated in Flateybook, and with a few textual modifications in Fornald. Saga, iii., tells the following: Erik, the son of a petty Norse king, one Christmas Eve, made the vow to seek out Odainsaker, and the fame of it spread over all Norway. In company with a Danish prince, who also was named Erik, he betook himself first to Miklagard (Constantinople), where the king engaged the young men in his service, and was greatly benefited by their warlike skill. One day the king talked with the Norwegian Erik about religion, and the result was that the latter surrendered the faith of his ancestors and accepted baptism. He told his royal teacher of the vow he had taken to find Odainsaker,--"_frá honum heyrdi vèr sagt a voru landi_,"--and asked him if he knew where it was situated. The king believed that Odainsaker was identical with Paradise, and said it lies in the East beyond the farthest boundaries of India, but that no one was able to get there because it was enclosed by a fire-wall, which aspires to heaven itself. Still Erik was bound by his vow, and with his Danish namesake he set out on his journey, after the king had instructed them as well as he was able in regard to the way, and had given them a letter of recommendation to the authorities and princes through whose territories they had to pass. They travelled through Syria and the immense and wonderful India, and came to a dark country where the stars are seen all day long. After having traversed its deep forests, they saw when it began to grow light a river, over which there was a vaulted stone bridge. On the other side of the river there was a plain, from which came sweet fragrance. Erik conjectured that the river was the one called by the king in Miklagard Pison, and which rises in Paradise. On the stone bridge lay a dragon with wide open mouth. The Danish prince advised that they return, for he considered it impossible to conquer the dragon or to pass it. But the Norwegian Erik seized one of his men by one hand, and rushed with his sword in the other against the dragon. They were seen to vanish between the jaws of the monster. With the other companions the Danish prince then returned by the same route as he had come, and after many years he got back to his native land. When Erik and his fellow-countryman had been swallowed by the dragon, they thought themselves enveloped in smoke; but it was scattered, and they were unharmed, and saw before them the great plain lit up by the sun and covered with flowers. There flowed rivers of honey, the air was still, but just above the ground were felt breezes that conveyed the fragrance of the flowers. It is never dark in this country, and objects cast no shadow. Both the adventurers went far into the country in order to find, if possible, inhabited parts. But the country seemed to be uninhabited. Still they discovered a tower in the distance. They continued to travel in that direction, and on coming nearer they found that the tower was suspended in the air, without foundation or pillars. A ladder led up to it. Within the tower there was a room, carpeted with velvet, and there stood a beautiful table with delicious food in silver dishes, and wine in golden goblets. There were also splendid beds. Both the men were now convinced that they had come to Odainsaker, and they thanked God that they had reached their destination. They refreshed themselves and laid themselves to sleep. While Erik slept there came to him a beautiful lad, who called him by name, and said he was one of the angels who guarded the gates of Paradise, and also Erik's guardian angel, who had been at his side when he vowed to go in search of Odainsaker. He asked whether Erik wished to remain where he now was or to return home. Erik wished to return to report what he had seen. The angel informed him that Odainsaker, or _jörd lifanda manna_, where he now was, was not the same place as Paradise, for to the latter only spirits could come, and the land of spirits, Paradise, was so glorious that, in comparison, Odainsaker seemed like a desert. Still, these two regions are on each other's borders, and the river which Erik had seen has its source in Paradise. The angel permitted the two travellers to remain in Odainsaker for six days to rest themselves. Then they returned by way of Miklagard to Norway, and there Erik was called _vid-förli_, the far-travelled. In regard to Erik's genealogy, the saga states (Fornald. Saga, iii. 519) that his father's name was Thrand, that his aunt (mother's sister) was a certain Svanhvit, and that he belonged to the race of Thjasse's daughter Skade. Further on in the domain of the real myth, we shall discover an Erik who belongs to Thjasse's family, and whose mother is a swan-maid (goddess of growth). This latter Erik also succeeded in seeing Odainsaker (see Nos. 102, 103). 45. MIDDLE AGE SAGAS (_continued_). ICELANDIC SOURCES IN REGARD TO GUDMUND, KING ON THE GLITTERING PLAINS. In the saga of Hervor, Odainsaker is mentioned, and there without any visible addition of Christian elements. Gudmund (_Godmundr_) was the name of a king in Jotunheim. His home was called _Grund_, but the district in which it was situated was called the Glittering Plains (_Glæsisvellir_). He was wise and mighty, and in a heathen sense pious, and he and his men became so old that they lived many generations. Therefore, the story continues, the heathens believed that Odainsaker was situated in his country. "That place (Odainsaker) is for everyone who comes there so healthy that sickness and age depart, and no one ever dies there." According to the saga-author, Jotunheim is situated north from Halogaland, along the shores of Gandvik. The wise and mighty Gudmund died after he had lived half a thousand years. After his death the people worshipped him as a god, and offered sacrifices to him. The same Gudmund is mentioned in Herrod's and Bose's saga as a ruler of the Glittering Plains, who was very skilful in the magic arts. The Glittering Plains are here said to be situated near Bjarmaland, just as in Thorstein Bæarmagn's saga, in which king Gudmund's kingdom, Glittering Plains, is a country tributary to Jotunheim, whose ruler is Geirrod. In the history of Olaf Trygveson, as it is given in Flateybook, the following episode is incorporated. The Northman Helge Thoreson was sent on a commercial journey to the far North on the coast of Finmark, but he got lost in a great forest. There he met twelve red-clad young maidens on horseback, and the horses' trappings shone like gold. The chief one of the maidens was Ingeborg, the daughter of Gudmund on the Glittering Plains. The young maidens raised a splendid tent and set a table with dishes of silver and gold. Helge was invited to remain, and he stayed three days with Ingeborg. Then Gudmund's daughters got ready to leave; but before they parted Helge received from Ingeborg two chests full of gold and silver. With these he returned to his father, but mentioned to nobody how he had obtained them. The next Yule night there came a great storm, during which two men carried Helge away, none knew whither. His sorrowing father reported this to Olaf Trygveson. The year passed. Then it happened at Yule that Helge came in to the king in the hall, and with him two strangers, who handed Olaf two gold-plated horns. They said they were gifts from Gudmund on the Glittering Plains. Olaf filled the horns with good drink and handed them to the messengers. Meanwhile he had commanded the bishop who was present to bless the drink. The result was that the heathen beings, who were Gudmund's messengers, cast the horns away, and at the same time there was great noise and confusion in the hall. The fire was extinguished, and Gudmund's men disappeared with Helge, after having slain three of King Olaf's men. Another year passed. Then there came to the king two men, who brought Helge with them, and disappeared again. Helge was at that time blind. The king asked him many questions, and Helge explained that he had spent most happy days at Gudmund's; but King Olaf's prayers had at length made it difficult for Gudmund and his daughter to retain him, and before his departure Ingeborg picked his eyes out, in order that Norway's daughters should not fall in love with them. With his gifts Gudmund had intended to deceive King Olaf; but upon the whole Helge had nothing but good to report about this heathen. 46. MIDDLE AGE SAGAS (_continued_). SAXO CONCERNING THIS SAME GUDMUND, RULER OF THE LOWER WORLD. Saxo, the Danish historian, also knows Gudmund. He relates (_Hist. Dan._, viii.) that King Gorm had resolved to find a mysterious country in regard to which there were many reports in the North. Incredible treasures were preserved in that land. A certain Geruthus, known in the traditions, dwelt there, but the way thither was full of dangers and well-nigh inaccessible for mortals. They who had any knowledge of the situation of the land insisted that it was necessary to sail across the ocean surrounding the earth, leave sun and stars behind, and make a journey _sub Chao_, before reaching the land which is deprived of the light of day, and over whose mountains and valleys darkness broods. First there was a perilous voyage to be made, and then a journey in the lower world. With the experienced sailor Thorkillus as his guide, King Gorm left Denmark with three ships and a numerous company, sailed past Halogaland, and came, after strange adventures on his way, to Bjarmaland, situated beyond the known land of the same name, and anchored near its coast. In this _Bjarmia ulterior_ it is always cold; to its snow-clad fields there comes no summer warmth, through its deep wild forests flow rapid foaming rivers which well forth from the rocky recesses, and the woods are full of wild beasts, the like of which are unknown elsewhere. The inhabitants are monsters with whom it is dangerous for strangers to enter into conversation, for from unconsidered words they get power to do harm. Therefore Thorkillus was to do the talking alone for all his companions. The place for anchoring he had chosen in such a manner that they thence had the shortest journey to Geruthus. In the evening twilight the travellers saw a man of unusual size coming to meet them, and to their joy he greeted them by name. Thorkillus informed them that they should regard the coming of this man as a good omen, for he was the brother of Geruthus, Guthmundus, a friendly person and the most faithful protector in peril. When Thorkillus had explained the perpetual silence of his companions by saying that they were too bashful to enter into conversation with one whose language they did not understand, Guthmundus invited them to be his guests and led them by paths down along a river. Then they came to a place where a golden bridge was built across the river. The Danes felt a desire to cross the bridge and visit the land on the other side, but Guthmundus warned them that nature with the bed of this stream has drawn a line between the human and superhuman and mysterious, and that the ground on the other side was by a sacred order proclaimed unlawful for the feet of mortals.[34] They therefore continued the march on that side of the river on which they had hitherto gone, and so came to the mysterious dwelling of Guthmundus, where a feast was spread before them, at which twelve of his sons, all of noble appearance, and as many daughters, most fair of face, waited upon them. But the feast was a peculiar one. The Danes heeded the advice of Thorkillus not to come into too close contact with their strange table-companions or the servants, and instead of tasting the courses presented of food and drink, they ate and drank of the provisions they had taken with them from home. This they did because Thorkillus knew that mortals who accept the courtesies here offered them lose all memory of the past and remain for ever among "these non-human and dismal beings." Danger threatened even those who were weak in reference to the enticing loveliness of the daughters of Guthmundus. He offered King Gorm a daughter in marriage. Gorm himself was prudent enough to decline the honour; but four of his men could not resist the temptation, and had to pay the penalty with the loss of their memory and with enfeebled minds. One more trial awaited them. Guthmundus mentioned to the king that he had a villa, and invited Gorm to accompany him thither and taste of the delicious fruits. Thorkillus, who had a talent for inventing excuses, now found one for the king's lips. The host, though displeased with the reserve of the guests, still continued to show them friendliness, and when they expressed their desire to see the domain of Geruthus, he accompanied them all to the river, conducted them across it, and promised to wait there until they returned. The land which they now entered was the home of terrors. They had not gone very far before they discovered before them a city, which seemed to be built of dark mists. Human heads were raised on stakes which surrounded the bulwarks of the city. Wild dogs, whose rage Thorkillus, however, knew how to calm, kept watch outside of the gates. The gates were located high up in the bulwark, and it was necessary to climb up on ladders in order to get to them. Within the city was a crowd of beings horrible to look at and to hear, and filth and rottenness and a terrible stench were everywhere. Further in was a sort of mountain-fastness. When they had reached its entrance the travellers were overpowered by its awful aspect, but Thorkillus inspired them with courage. At the same time he warned them most strictly not to touch any of the treasures that might entice their eyes. All that sight and soul can conceive as terrible and loathsome was gathered within this rocky citadel. The door-frames were covered with the soot of centuries, the walls were draped with filth, the roofs were composed of sharp stings, the floors were made of serpents encased in foulness. At the thresholds crowds of monsters acted as doorkeepers and were very noisy. On iron benches, surrounded by a hurdle-work of lead, there lay giant monsters which looked like lifeless images. Higher up in a rocky niche sat the aged Geruthus, with his body pierced and nailed to the rock, and there lay also three women with their backs broken. Thorkillus explained that it was this Geruthus whom the god Thor had pierced with a red-hot iron; the women had also received their punishment from the same god. When the travellers left these places of punishment they came to a place where they saw cisterns of mead (_dolia_) in great numbers. These were plated with seven sheets of gold, and above them hung objects of silver, round as to form, from which shot numerous braids down into the cisterns. Near by was found a gold-plated tooth of some strange animal, and near it, again, there lay an immense horn decorated with pictures and flashing with precious stones, and also an arm-ring of great size. Despite the warnings, three of Gorm's men laid greedy hands on these works of art. But the greed got its reward. The arm-ring changed into a venomous serpent; the horn into a dragon, which killed their robbers; the tooth became a sword, which pierced the heart of him who bore it. The others who witnessed the fate of their comrades expected that they too, although innocent, should meet with some misfortune. But their anxiety seemed unfounded, and when they looked about them again they found the entrance to another treasury, which contained a wealth of immense weapons, among which was kept a royal mantle, together with a splendid head-gear and a belt, the finest work of art. Thorkillus himself could not govern his greed when he saw these robes. He took hold of the mantle, and thus gave the signal to the others to plunder. But then the building shook in its foundations; the voices of shrieking women were heard, who asked if these robbers were longer to be tolerated; beings which hitherto had been lying as if half-dead or lifeless started up and joined other spectres who attacked the Danes. The latter would all have lost their lives had not their retreat been covered by two excellent archers whom Gorm had with him. But of the men, nearly three hundred in number, with whom the king had ventured into this part of the lower world, there remained only twenty when they finally reached the river, where Guthmundus, true to his promise, was waiting for them, and carried them in a boat to his own domain. Here he proposed to them that they should remain, but as he could not persuade them, he gave them presents and let them return to their ships in safety the same way as they had come. [Footnote 34: Cujus transeundi cupidos revocavit, docens, eo alveo humana a monstrosis rerum secrevisse naturam, nec mortalibus ultra fas esse vestigiis.] 47. MIDDLE AGE SAGAS (_continued_). FJALLERUS AND HADINGUS (HADDING) IN THE LOWER WORLD. Two other Danish princes have, according to Saxo, been permitted to see a subterranean world, or Odainsaker. Saxo calls the one Fjallerus, and makes him a sub-regent in Scania. The question who this Fjallerus was in the mythology is discussed in another part of this work (see No. 92). According to Saxo he was banished from the realm by King Amlethus, the son of Horvendillus, and so retired to Undensakre (Odainsaker), "a place which is unknown to our people" (_Hist. Dan._ iv.). The other of these two is King Hadingus (_Hist. Dan._, i.), the above-mentioned Hadding, son of Halfdan. One winter's day, while Hadding sat at the hearth, there rose out of the ground the form of a woman, who had her lap full of cowbanes, and showed them as if she was about to ask whether the king would like to see that part of the world where, in the midst of winter, so fresh flowers could bloom. Hadding desired this. Then she wrapped him in her mantle and carried him away down into the lower world. "The gods of the lower world," says Saxo, "must have determined that he should be transferred living to those places, which are not to be sought until after death." In the beginning the journey was through a territory wrapped in darkness, fogs, and mists. Then Hadding perceived that they proceeded along a path "which is daily trod by the feet of walkers." The path led to a river, in whose rapids spears and other weapons were tossed about, and over which there was a bridge. Before reaching this river Hadding had seen from the path he travelled a region in which "a few" or "certain" (_quidam_), but very noble beings (_proceres_) were walking, dressed in beautiful frocks and purple mantles. Thence the woman brought him to a plain which glittered as in sunshine (_loca aprica_, translation of "The Glittering Plains"), and there grew the plants which she had shown him. This was one side of the river. On the other side there was bustle and activity. There Hadding saw two armies engaged in battle. They were, his fair guide explained to him, the souls of warriors who had fallen in battle, and now imitated the sword-games they had played on earth. Continuing their journey, they reached a place surrounded by a wall, which was difficult to pass through or to surmount. Nor did the woman make any effort to enter there, either alone or with him: "It would not have been possible for the smallest or thinnest physical being." They therefore returned the way they had come. But before this, and while they stood near the wall, the woman demonstrated to Hadding by an experiment that the walled place had a strange nature. She jerked the head off a chicken which she had taken with her, and threw it over the wall, but the head came back to the neck of the chicken, and with a distinct crow it announced "that it had regained its life and breath." 48. MIDDLE AGE SAGAS (_continued_). A FRISIAN SAGA IN ADAM OF BREMEN. The series of traditions above narrated in regard to Odainsaker, the Glittering Plains, and their ruler Gudmund, and also in regard to the neighbouring domains as habitations of the souls of the dead, extends, so far as the age of their recording in writing is concerned, through a period of considerable length. The latest cannot be referred to an earlier date than the fourteenth century; the oldest were put in writing toward the close of the twelfth. Saxo began working on his history between the years 1179 and 1186. Thus these literary evidences span about two centuries, and stop near the threshold of heathendom. The generation to which Saxo's father belonged witnessed the crusade which Sigurd the Crusader made in Eastern Smaland, in whose forests the Asa-doctrine until that time seems to have prevailed, and the Odinic religion is believed to have flourished in the more remote parts of Sweden even in Saxo's own time. We must still add to this series of documents one which is to carry it back another century, and even more. This document is a saga told by Adam of Bremen in _De Situ Daniæ_. Adam, or, perhaps, before him, his authority Adalbert (appointed archbishop in the year 1043), has turned the saga into history, and made it as credible as possible by excluding all distinctly mythical elements. And as it, doubtless for this reason, neither mentions a place which can be compared with Odainsaker or with the Glittering Plains, I have omitted it among the literary evidences above quoted. Nevertheless, it reminds us in its main features of Saxo's account of Gorm's journey of discovery, and its relation both to it and to the still older myth shall be shown later (see No. 94). In the form in which Adam heard the saga, its point of departure has been located in Friesland, not in Denmark. Frisian noblemen make a voyage past Norway up to the farthest limits of the Arctic Ocean, get into a darkness which the eyes scarcely can penetrate, are exposed to a maelstrom which threatens to drag them down _ad Chaos_, but finally come quite unexpectedly out of darkness and cold to an island which, surrounded as by a wall of high rocks, contains subterranean caverns, wherein giants lie concealed. At the entrances of the underground dwellings lay a great number of tubs and vessels of gold and other metals which "to mortals seem rare and valuable." As much as the adventurers could carry of these treasures they took with them and hastened to their ships. But the giants, represented by great dogs, rushed after them. One of the Frisians was overtaken and torn into pieces before the eyes of the others. The others succeeded, thanks to our Lord and to Saint Willehad, in getting safely on board their ships. 49. ANALYSIS OF THE SAGAS MENTIONED IN NOS. 44-48. If we consider the position of the authors or recorders of these sagas in relation to the views they present in regard to Odainsaker and the Glittering Plains, then we find that they themselves, with or without reason, believe that these views are from a heathen time and of heathen origin. The saga of Erik Vidforle states that its hero had in his own native land, and in his heathen environment, heard reports about Odainsaker. The Miklagard king who instructs the prince in the doctrines of Christianity knows, on the other hand, nothing of such a country. He simply conjectures that the Odainsaker of the heathens must be the same as the Paradise of the Christians, and the saga later makes this conjecture turn out to be incorrect. The author of Hervor's saga mentions Odainsaker as a heathen belief, and tries to give reasons why it was believed in heathen times that Odainsaker was situated within the limits of Gudmund's kingdom, the Glittering Plains. The reason is: "Gudmund and his men became so old that they lived through several generations (Gudmund lived five hundred years), and therefore the heathens believed that Odainsaker was situated in his domain." The man who compiled the legend about Helge Thoreson connects it with the history of King Olaf Trygveson, and pits this first king of Norway, who laboured for the introduction of Christianity, as a representative of the new and true doctrine against King Gudmund of the Glittering Plains as the representative of the heathen doctrine. The author would not have done this if he had not believed that the ruler of the Glittering Plains had his ancestors in heathendom. The saga of Thorstein Bæarmagn puts Gudmund and the Glittering Plains in a tributary relation to Jotunheim and to Geirrod, the giant, well known in the mythology. Saxo makes Gudmund Geirrod's (Geruthus') brother, and he believes he is discussing ancient traditions when he relates Gorm's journey of discovery and Hadding's journey to Jotunheim. Gorm's reign is referred by Saxo to the period immediately following the reign of the mythical King Snö (Snow) and the emigration of the Longobardians. Hadding's descent to the lower world occurred, according to Saxo, in an antiquity many centuries before King Snow. Hadding is, in Saxo, one of the first kings of Denmark, the grandson of Skjold, progenitor of the Skjoldungs. The saga of Erik Vidforle makes the way to Odainsaker pass through Syria, India, and an unknown land which wants the light of the sun, and where the stars are visible all day long. On the other side of Odainsaker, and bordering on it, lies the land of the happy spirits, Paradise. That these last ideas have been influenced by Christianity would seem to be sufficiently clear. Nor do we find a trace of Syria, India, and Paradise as soon as we leave this saga and pass to the others, in the chain of which it forms one of the later links. All the rest agree in transferring to the uttermost North the land which must be reached before the journey can be continued to the Glittering Plains and Odainsaker. Hervor's saga says that the Glittering Plains and Odainsaker are situated north of Halogaland, in Jotunheim; Herrod's and Bose's saga states that they are situated in the vicinity of Bjarmaland. The saga of Thorstein Bæarmagn says that they are a kingdom subject to Geirrod in Jotunheim. Gorm's saga in Saxo says it is necessary to sail past Halogaland north to a _Bjarmia ulterior_ in order to get to the kingdoms of Gudmund and Geirrod. The saga of Helge Thoreson makes its hero meet the daughters of Gudmund, the ruler of the Glittering Plains, after a voyage to Finmarken. Hadding's saga in Saxo makes the Danish king pay a visit to the unknown but wintry cold land of the "Nitherians," when he is invited to make a journey to the lower world. Thus the older and common view was that he who made the attempt to visit the Glittering Plains and Odainsaker must first penetrate the regions of the uttermost North, known only by hearsay. Those of the sagas which give us more definite local descriptions in addition to this geographical information all agree that the region which forms, as it were, a foreground to the Glittering Plains and Odainsaker is a land over which the darkness of night broods. As just indicated, Erik Vidforle's saga claims that the stars there are visible all day long. Gorm's saga in Saxo makes the Danish adventurers leave sun and stars behind to continue the journey _sub Chao_. Darkness, fogs, and mists envelop Hadding before he gets sight of the splendidly-clad _proceres_ who dwell down there, and the shining meadows whose flowers are never visited by winter. The Frisian saga in Adam of Bremen also speaks of a gloom which must be penetrated ere one reaches the land where rich giants dwell in subterranean caverns. Through this darkness one comes, according to the saga of Erik Vidforle, to a plain full of flowers, delicious fragrances, rivers of honey (a Biblical idea, but see Nos. 89, 123), and perpetual light. A river separates this plain from the land of the spirits. Through the same darkness, according to Gorm's saga, one comes to Gudmund's Glittering Plains, where there is a pleasure-farm bearing delicious fruits, while in that Bjarmaland whence the Glittering Plains can be reached reign eternal winter and cold. A river separates the Glittering Plains from two or more other domains, of which at least one is the home of departed souls. There is a bridge of gold across the river to another region, "which separates that which is mortal from the superhuman," and on whose soil a mortal being must not set his foot. Further on one can pass in a boat across the river to a land which is the place of punishment for the damned and a resort of ghosts. Through the same darkness one comes, according to Hadding's saga, to a subterranean land where flowers grow in spite of the winter which reigns on the surface of the earth. The land of flowers is separated from the Elysian fields of those fallen in battle by a river which hurls about in its eddies spears and other weapons. These statements from different sources agree with each other in their main features. They agree that the lower world is divided into two main parts by a river, and that departed souls are found only on the farther side of the river. The other main part on this side the river thus has another purpose than that of receiving the happy or damned souls of the dead. There dwells, according to Gorm's saga, the giant Gudmund, with his sons and daughters. There are also the Glittering Plains, since these, according to Hervor's, Herrod's, Thorstein Bæarmagn's, and Helge Thoreson's sagas, are ruled by Gudmund. Some of the accounts cited say that the Glittering Plains are situated in Jotunheim. This statement does not contradict the fact that they are situated in the lower world. The myths mention two Jotunheims, and hence the Eddas employ the plural form, Jotunheimar. One of the Jotunheims is located on the surface of the earth in the far North and East, separated from the Midgard inhabited by man by the uttermost sea or the Elivogs (Gylfaginning, 8). The other Jotunheim is subterranean. According to Vafthrudnismal (31), one of the roots of the world-tree extends down "to the frost-giants." Urd and her sisters, who guard one of the fountains of Ygdrasil's roots, are giantesses. Mimer, who guards another fountain in the lower world, is called a giant. That part of the world which is inhabited by the goddesses of fate and by Mimer is thus inhabited by giants, and is a subterranean Jotunheim. Both these Jotunheims are connected with each other. From the upper there is a path leading to the lower. Therefore those traditions recorded in a Christian age, which we are here discussing, have referred to the Arctic Ocean and the uttermost North as the route for those who have the desire and courage to visit the giants of the lower world. When it is said in Hadding's saga that he on the other side of the subterranean river saw the shades of heroes fallen by the sword arrayed in line of battle and contending with each other, then this is no contradiction of the myth, according to which the heroes chosen on the battle-field come to Asgard and play their warlike games on the plains of the world of the gods. In Völuspa (str. 24) we read that when the first "folk"-war broke out in the world, the citadel of Odin and his clan was stormed by the Vans, who broke through its bulwark and captured Asgard. In harmony with this, Saxo (_Hist._, i.) relates that at the time when King Hadding reigned Odin was banished from his power and lived for some time in exile (see Nos. 36-41). It is evident that no great battles can have been fought, and that there could not have been any great number of sword-fallen men, before the _first_ great "folk" war broke out in the world. Otherwise this war would not have been the first. Thus Valhal has not before this war had those hosts of einherjes who later are feasted in Valfather's hall. But as Odin, after the breaking out of this war, is banished from Valhal and Asgard, and does not return before peace is made between the Asas and Vans, then none of the einherjes chosen by him could be received in Valhal _during_ the war. Hence it follows that the heroes fallen in this war, though chosen by Odin, must have been referred to some other place than Asgard (excepting, of course, all those chosen by the Vans, _in case_ they chose einherjes, which is probable, for the reason that the Vanadis Freyja gets, after the reconciliation with Odin, the right to divide with him the choice of the slain). This other place can nowhere else be so appropriately looked for as in the lower world, which we know was destined to receive the souls of the dead. And as Hadding, who, according to Saxo, descended to the lower world, is, according to Saxo, the same Hadding during whose reign Odin was banished from Asgard, then it follows that the statement of the saga, making him see in the lower world those warlike games which else are practised on Asgard's plains, far from contradicting the myth, on the contrary is a consequence of the connection of the mythical events. The river which is mentioned in Erik Vidforle's, Gorm's, and Hadding's sagas has its prototype in the mythic records. When Hermod on Sleipner rides to the lower world (Gylfaginning, 10) he first journeys through a dark country (compare above) and then comes to the river _Gjöll_, over which there is the golden bridge called the Gjallar bridge. On the other side of _Gjöll_ is the Helgate, which leads to the realm of the dead. In Gorm's saga the bridge across the river is also of gold, and it is forbidden mortals to cross to the other side. A subterranean river hurling weapons in its eddies is mentioned in Völuspa, 33. In Hadding's saga we also read of a weapon-hurling river which forms the boundary of the Elysium of those slain by the sword. In Vegtamskvida is mentioned an underground dog, bloody about the breast, coming from Nifelhel, the proper place of punishment. In Gorm's saga the bulwark around the city of the damned is guarded by great dogs. The word "nifel" (_nifl_, the German _Nebel_), which forms one part of the word Nifelhel, means mist, fog. In Gorm's saga the city in question is most like a cloud of vapour (_vaporanti maxime nubi simile_). Saxo's description of that house of torture, which is found within the city, is not unlike Völuspa's description of that dwelling of torture called Nastrand. In Saxo the floor of the house consists of serpents wattled together, and the roof of sharp stings. In Völuspa the hall is made of serpents braided together, whose heads from above spit venom down on those dwelling there. Saxo speaks of soot a century old on the door frames; Völuspa of _ljórar_, air- and smoke-openings in the roof (see further Nos. 77 and 78). Saxo himself points out that the Geruthus (_Geirrödr_) mentioned by him, and his famous daughters, belong to the myth about the Asa-god Thor. That Geirrod after his death is transferred to the lower world is no contradiction to the heathen belief, according to which beautiful or terrible habitations await the dead, not only of men but also of other beings. Compare Gylfaginning, ch. 46, where Thor with one blow of his Mjolner sends a giant _nidr undir Niflhel_ (see further, No. 60). As Mimer's and Urd's fountains are found in the lower world (see Nos. 63, 93), and as Mimer is mentioned as the guardian of Heimdal's horn and other treasures, it might be expected that these circumstances would not be forgotten in those stories from Christian times which have been cited above and found to have roots in the myths. When in Saxo's saga about Gorm the Danish adventurers had left the horrible city of fog, they came to another place in the lower world where the gold-plated mead-cisterns were found. The Latin word used by Saxo, which I translate with cisterns of mead, is _dolium_. In the classical Latin this word is used in regard to wine-cisterns of so immense a size that they were counted among the immovables, and usually were sunk in the cellar floors. They were so large that a person could live in such a cistern, and this is also reported as having happened. That the word _dolium_ still in Saxo's time had a similar meaning appears from a letter quoted by Du Cange, written by Saxo's younger contemporary, Bishop Gebhard. The size is therefore no obstacle to Saxo's using this word for a wine-cistern to mean the mead-wells in the lower world of Teutonic mythology. The question now is whether he actually did so, or whether the subterranean _dolia_ in question are objects in regard to which our earliest mythic records have left us in ignorance. In Saxo's time, and earlier, the epithets by which the mead-wells--Urd's and Mimer's--and their contents are mentioned in mythological songs had come to be applied also to those mead-buckets which Odin is said to have emptied in the halls of the giant Fjalar or Suttung. This application also lay near at hand, since these wells and these vessels contained the same liquor, and since it originally, as appears from the meaning of the words, was the liquor, and not the place where the liquor was kept, to which the epithets _Odrærir_, _Bodn_, and _Son_ applied. In Havamál (107) Odin expresses his joy that _Odrærir_ has passed out of the possession of the giant Fjalar and can be of use to the beings of the upper world. But if we may trust Bragar, (ch. 5), it is the drink and not the empty vessels that Odin takes with him to Valhal. On this supposition, it is the drink and not one of the vessels which in Havamál is called _Odrærir_. In Havamál (140) Odin relates how he, through self-sacrifice and suffering, succeeded in getting runic songs up from the deep, and also a drink dipped out of _Odrærir_. He who gives him the songs and the drink, and accordingly is the ruler of the fountain of the drink, is a man, "Bolthorn's celebrated son." Here again Odrærer is one of the subterranean fountains, and no doubt Mimer's, since the one who pours out the drink is a man. But in Forspjalsljod (2) Urd's fountain is also called Odrærer (_Odhrærir Urdar_). Paraphrases for the liquor of poetry, such as "Bodn's growing billow" (Einar Skalaglam) and "Son's reedgrown grass edge" (Eilif Gudrunson), point to fountains or wells, not to vessels. Meanwhile a satire was composed before the time of Saxo and Sturlason about Odin's adventure at Fjalar's, and the author of this song, the contents of which the Younger Edda has preserved, calls the vessels which Odin empties at the giant's _Odhrærir_, _Bodn_, and _Són_ (Brogarædur, 6). Saxo, who reveals a familiarity with the genuine heathen, or supposed heathen, poems handed down to his time, may thus have seen the epithets _Odrærir_, _Bodn_, and _Són_ applied both to the subterranean mead-wells and to a giant's mead-vessels. The greater reason he would have for selecting the Latin _dolium_ to express an idea that can be accommodated to both these objects. Over these mead-reservoirs there hang, according to Saxo's description, round-shaped objects of silver, which in close braids drop down and are spread around the seven times gold-plated walls of the mead-cisterns. [35] Over Mimer's and Urd's fountains hang the roots of the ash Ygdrasil, which sends its root-knots and root-threads down into their waters. But not only the rootlets sunk in the water, but also the roots from which they are suspended, partake of the waters of the fountains. The norns take daily from the water and sprinkle the stem of the tree therewith, "and the water is so holy," says Gylfaginning (16), "that everything that is put in the well (consequently, also, all that which the norns daily sprinkle with the water) becomes as white as the membrane between the egg and the egg-shell." Also the root over Mimer's fountain is sprinkled with its water (Völusp., Cod. R., 28), and this water, so far as its colour is concerned, seems to be of the same kind as that in Urd's fountain, for the latter is called _hvítr aurr_ (Völusp., 18) and the former runs in _aurgum forsi_ upon its root of the world-tree (Völusp., 28). The adjective _aurigr_, which describes a quality of the water in Mimer's fountain, is formed from the noun _aurr_, with which the liquid is described which waters the root over Urd's fountain. Ygdrasil's roots, as far up as the liquid of the wells can get to them, thus have a colour like that of "the membrane between the egg and the egg-shell," and consequently recall both as to position, form, and colour the round-shaped objects "of silver" which, according to Saxo, hang down and are intertwined in the mead-reservoirs of the lower world. Mimer's fountain contains, as we know, the purest mead--the liquid of inspiration, of poetry, of wisdom, of understanding. Near by Ygdrasil, according to Völuspa (27), Heimdal's horn is concealed. The seeress in Völuspa knows that it is hid "beneath the hedge-o'ershadowing holy tree." Veit hon Heimdallar hljod um fólgit undir heidvönum helgum badmi. Near one of the mead-cisterns in the lower world Gorm's men see a horn ornamented with pictures and flashing with precious stones. Among the treasures taken care of by Mimer is the world's foremost sword and a wonderful arm-ring, smithied by the same master as made the sword (see Nos. 87, 98, 101). Near the gorgeous horn Gorm's men see a gold-plated tooth of an animal and an arm-ring. The animal tooth becomes a sword when it is taken into the hand.[36] Near by is a treasury filled with a large number of weapons and a royal robe. Mimer is known in mythology as a collector of treasures. He is therefore called _Hoddmimir_, _Hoddropnir_, _Baugregin_. Thus Gorm and his men have on their journeys in the lower world seen not only Nastrand's place of punishment in Nifelhel, but also the holy land, where Mimer reigns. When Gorm and his men desire to cross the golden bridge and see the wonders to which it leads, Gudmund prohibits it. When they in another place farther up desire to cross the river to see what there is beyond, he consents and has them taken over in a boat. He does not deem it proper to show them the unknown land at the golden bridge, but it is within the limits of his authority to let them see the places of punishment and those regions which contain the mead-cisterns and the treasure chambers. The sagas call him the king on the Glittering Plains, and as the Glittering Plains are situated in the lower world, he must be a lower world ruler. Two of the sagas, Helge Thoreson's and Gorm's, cast a shadow on Gudmund's character. In the former this shadow does not produce confusion or contradiction. The saga is a legend which represents Christianity, with Olaf Trygveson as its apostle, in conflict with heathenism, represented by Gudmund. It is therefore natural that the latter cannot be presented in the most favourable light. Olaf destroys with his prayers the happiness of Gudmund's daughter. He compels her to abandon her lover, and Gudmund, who is unable to take revenge in any other manner, tries to do so, as is the case with so many of the characters in saga and history, by treachery. This is demanded by the fundamental idea and tendency of the legend. What the author of the legend has heard about Gudmund's character from older saga-men, or what he has read in records, he does not, however, conceal with silence, but admits that Gudmund, aside from his heathen religion and grudge towards Olaf Trygveson, was a man in whose home one might fare well and be happy. Saxo has preserved the shadow, but in his narrative it produces the greatest contradiction. Gudmund offers fruits, drinks, and embraces in order to induce his guests to remain with him for ever, and he does it in a tempting manner and, as it seems, with conscious cunning. Nevertheless, he shows unlimited patience when the guests insult him by accepting nothing of what he offers. When he comes down to the sea-strand, where Gorm's ships are anchored, he is greeted by the leader of the discoverers with joy, because he is "the most pious being and man's protector in perils." He conducts them in safety to his castle. When a handful of them returns after the attempt to plunder the treasury of the lower world, he considers the crime sufficiently punished by the loss of life they have suffered, and takes them across the river to his own safe home; and when they, contrary to his wishes, desire to return to their native land, he loads them with gifts and sees to it that they get safely on board their ships. It follows that Saxo's sources have described Gudmund as a kind and benevolent person. Here, as in the legend about Helge Thoreson, the shadow has been thrown by younger hands upon an older background painted in bright colours. Hervor's saga says that he was wise, mighty, in a heathen sense pious ("a great sacrificer"), and so honoured that sacrifices were offered to him, and he was worshipped as a god after death. Herrod's saga says that he was greatly skilled in magic arts, which is another expression for heathen wisdom, for fimbul-songs, runes, and incantations. The change for the worse which Gudmund's character seems in part to have suffered is confirmed by a change connected with, and running parallel to it, in the conception of the forces in those things which belonged to the lower world of the Teutonic heathendom and to Gudmund's domain. In Saxo we find an idea related to the antique Lethe myth, according to which the liquids and plants which belong to the lower world produce forgetfulness of the past. Therefore, Thorkil (Thorkillus) warns his companions not to eat or drink any of that which Gudmund offers them. In the Gudrun song (ii. 21, 22), and elsewhere, we meet with the same idea. I shall return to this subject (see No. 50). [Footnote 35: Inde digressis dolia septem zonis aureis circumligata panduntur, quibus pensiles ex argento circuli crebros inseruerant nexus.] [Footnote 36: The word _biti_= a tooth (cp. bite) becomes in the composition _leggbiti_, the name of a sword.] 50. ANALYSIS OF THE SAGAS MENTIONED IN NOS. 44-48. THE QUESTION IN REGARD TO THE IDENTIFICATION OF ODAINSAKER. Is Gudmund an invention of Christian times, although he is placed in an environment which in general and in detail reflects the heathen mythology? Or is there to be found in the mythology a person who has precisely the same environment and is endowed with the same attributes and qualities? The latter form an exceedingly strange _ensemble_, and can therefore easily be recognized. Ruler in the lower world, and at the same time a giant. Pious and still a giant. King in a domain to which winter cannot penetrate. Within that domain an enclosed place, whose bulwark neither sickness, nor age, nor death can surmount. It is left to his power and pleasure to give admittance to the mysterious meadows, where the mead-cisterns of the lower world are found, and where the most precious of all horns, a wonderful sword, and a splendid arm-ring are kept. Old as the hills, but yet subject to death. Honoured as if he were not a giant, but a divine being. These are the features which together characterise Gudmund, and should be found in his mythological prototype, if there is one. With these peculiar characteristics are united wisdom and wealth. The answer to the question whether a mythical original of this picture is to be discovered will be given below. But before that we must call attention to some points in the Christian accounts cited in regard to Odainsaker. Odainsaker is not made identical with the Glittering Plains, but is a separate place on them, or at all events within Gudmund's domain. Thus according to Hervor's saga. The correctness of the statement is confirmed by comparison with Gorm's and Hadding's sagas. The former mentions, as will be remembered, a place which Gudmund does not consider himself authorized to show his guests, although they are permitted to see other mysterious places in the lower world, even the mead-fountains and treasure-chambers. To the unknown place, as to Balder's subterranean dwelling, leads a golden bridge, which doubtless is to indicate the splendour of the place. The subterranean goddess, who is Hadding's guide in Hades, shows him both the Glittering Fields (_loca aprica_) and the plains of the dead heroes, but stops with him near a wall, which is not opened for them. The domain surrounded by the wall receives nothing which has suffered death, and its very proximity seems to be enough to keep death at bay (see No. 47). All the sagas are silent in regard to who those beings are for whom this wonderful enclosed place is intended. Its very name, _Acre-of-the-not-dead_ (_Odainsakr_), and _The field-of-the-living_ (_Jörd lifanda manna_), however, makes it clear that it is not intended for the souls of the dead. This Erik Vidforle's saga is also able to state, inasmuch as it makes a definite distinction between _Odainsaker_ and the land of the spirits, between _Odainsaker_ and Paradise. If human or other beings are found within the bulwark of the place, they must have come there as living beings in a physical sense; and when once there, they are protected from perishing, for diseases, age, and death are excluded. Erik Vidforle and his companion find on their journey on Odainsaker only a single dwelling, a splendid one with two beds. Who the couple are who own this house, and seem to have placed it at the disposal of the travellers, is not stated. But in the night there came a beautiful lad to Erik. The author of the saga has made him an angel, who is on duty on the borders between Odainsaker and Paradise. The purpose of Odainsaker is not mentioned in Erik Vidforle's saga. There is no intelligible connection between it and the Christian environment given to it by the saga. The ecclesiastical belief knows an earthly Paradise, that which existed in the beginning and was the home of Adam and Eve, but that it is guarded by the angel with the flaming sword, or, as Erik's saga expresses it, it is encircled by a wall of fire. In the lower world the Christian Church knows a Hades and a hell, but the path to them is through the gates of death; physically living persons, persons who have not paid tribute to death, are not found there. In the Christian group of ideas there is no place for Odainsaker. An underground place for physically living people, who are there no longer exposed to aging and death, has nothing to do in the economy of the Church. Was there occasion for it among the ideas of the heathen eschatology? The above-quoted sagas say nothing about the purposes of Odainsaker. Here is therefore a question of importance to our subject, and one that demands an answer. 51. GUDMUND'S IDENTITY WITH MIMER. I dare say the most characteristic figure of Teutonic mythology is Mimer, the lord of the fountain which bears his name. The liquid contained in the fountain is the object of Odin's deepest desire. He has neither authority nor power over it. Nor does he or anyone else of the gods seek to get control of it by force. Instances are mentioned showing that Odin, to get a drink from it, must subject himself to great sufferings and sacrifices (Völuspa, Cod. Reg., 28, 29; Havamál, 138-140; Gylfag., 15), and it is as a gift or a loan that he afterwards receives from Mimer the invigorating and soul-inspiring drink (Havamál, 140, 141). Over the fountain and its territory Mimer, of course, exercises unlimited control, an authority which the gods never appear to have disputed. He has a sphere of power which the gods recognize as inviolable. The domain of his rule belongs to the lower world; it is situated under one of the roots of the world-tree (Völuspa, 28, 29; Gylfag., 15), and when Odin, from the world-tree, asks for the precious mead of the fountain, he peers _downward_ into the deep, and thence brings up the runes (_nysta ec nithr_, _nam ec up rúnar_--Havamál, 139). Saxo's account of the adventure of Hotherus (_Hist_., pp. 113-115, Müller's ed.) shows that there was thought to be a descent to Mimer's land in the form of a mountain cave (_specus_), and that this descent was, like the one to Gudmund's domain, to be found in the uttermost North, where terrible cold reigns. Though a giant, Mimer is the friend of the order of the world and of the gods. He, like Urd, guards the sacred ash, the world-tree (Völuspa, 28), which accordingly also bears his name and is called Mimer's tree (_Mimameidr_--Fjolsvinsm, 20; _meidr Mima_--Fjolsv., 24). The intercourse between the Asa-father and him has been of such a nature that the expression "Mimer's friend" (_Mimsvinr_--Sonatorrek, 22; Younger Edda, i. 238, 250, 602) could be used by the skalds as an epithet of Odin. Of this friendship Ynglingasaga (ch. 4) has preserved a record. It makes Mimer lose his life in his activity for the good of the gods, and makes Odin embalm his head, in order that he may always be able to get wise counsels from its lips. The song about Sigrdrifa (str. 14) represents Odin as listening to the words of truth which come from Mimer's head. Völuspa (str. 45) predicts that Odin, when Ragnarok approaches, shall converse with Mimer's head; and, according to Gylfaginning (56), he, immediately before the conflagration of the world, rides to Mimer's fountain to get advice from the deep thinker for himself and his friends. The firm friendship between Alfather and this strange giant of the lower world was formed in time's morning while Odin was still young and undeveloped (Hav., 141), and continued until the end of the gods and the world. Mimer is the collector of treasures. The same treasures as Gorm and his men found in the land which Gudmund let them visit are, according to mythology, in the care of Mimer. The wonderful horn (Völuspa, 28), the sword of victory, and the ring (Saxo, _Hist._, 113, 114; cp. Nos. 87, 97, 98, 101, 103). In all these points the Gudmund of the middle-age sagas and Mimer of the mythology are identical. There still remains an important point. In Gudmund's domain there is a splendid grove, an enclosed place, from which weaknesses, age, and death are banished--a Paradise of the peculiar kind, that it is not intended for the souls of the dead, but for certain _lifandi menn_, yet inaccessible to people in general. In the myth concerning Mimer we also find such a grove. 52. MIMER'S GROVE. LIF AND LEIFTHRASER. The grove is called after its ruler and guardian, Mimer's or Treasure-Mimer's grove (_Mimis holt_--Younger Edda, Upsala Codex; Gylfag., 58; _Hoddmimis holt_--Vafthrudnism, 45; Gylfag., 58). Gylfaginning describes the destruction of the world and its regeneration, and then relates how the earth, rising out of the sea, is furnished with human inhabitants. "During the conflagration (_i Surtarloga_) two persons are concealed in Treasure-Mimer's grove. Their names are Lif (_Lif_) and Leifthraser (_Leifthrasir_), and they feed on the morning dews. From them come so great an offspring that all the world is peopled." In support of its statement Gylfaginning quotes Vafthrudnersmal. This poem makes Odin and the giant Vafthrudner (_Vafthrúdnir_) put questions to each other, and among others Odin asks this question: Fiolth ec for, fiolth ec freistathac, fiolth ec um reynda regin: hvat lifir manna, tha er inn mæra lithr fimbulvetr meth firom? "Much I have travelled, much I have tried, much I have tested the powers. What human persons shall still live when the famous fimbul-winter has been in the world?" Vafthrudner answers: Lif oc Leifthrasir, enn thau leynaz muno i holti Hoddmimis; morgindauggvar thau ser at mat hafa enn thadan af aldir alaz. "Lif and Leifthraser (are still living); they are concealed in Hodd-Mimer's grove. They have morning dews for nourishment. Thence (from Hodd-Mimer's grove and this human pair) are born (new) races." Gylfaginning says that the two human beings, Lif and Leifthraser, who become the progenitors of the races that are to people the earth after Ragnarok, are concealed _during the conflagration of the world_ in Hodd-Mimer's grove. This is, beyond doubt, in accordance with mythic views. But mythologists, who have not paid sufficient attention to what Gylfaginning's source (Vafthrudnersmal) has to say on the subject, have from the above expression drawn a conclusion which implies a complete misunderstanding of the traditions in regard to Hodd-Mimer's grove and the human pair therein concealed. They have assumed that Lif and Leifthraser are, like all other people living at that time, inhabitants of the surface of the earth at the time when the conflagration of the world begins. They have explained Mimer's grove to mean the world-tree, and argued that when Surt's flames destroy all other mortals this one human pair have succeeded in climbing upon some particular branch of the world-tree, where they were protected from the destructive element. There they were supposed to live on morning dews until the end of Ragnarok, and until they could come down from their hiding-place in Ygdrasil upon the earth which has risen from the sea, and there become the progenitors of a more happy human race. According to this interpretation, Ygdrasil was a tree whose trunk and branches could be grasped by human hands, and one or more mornings, with attendant morning dews, are assumed to have come and gone, while fire and flames enveloped all creation, and after the sun had been swallowed by the wolf and the stars had fallen from the heavens (Gylfag., 55; Völusp., 54)! And with this terrible catastrophe before their eyes, Lif and Leifthraser are supposed to sit in perfect unconcern, eating the morning dews! For the scientific reputation of mythical inquiry it were well if that sort of investigations were avoided when they are not made necessary by the sources themselves. If sufficient attention had been paid to the above-cited evidence furnished by Vafthrudnersmal in this question, the misunderstanding might have been avoided, and the statement of Gylfaginning would not have been interpreted to mean that Lif and Leifthraser inhabited Mimer's grove _only_ during Ragnarok. For Vafthrudnersmal plainly states that this human pair are in perfect security in Mimer's grove, _while a long and terrible winter, a fimbul-winter, visits the earth and destroys its inhabitants_. Not until after the end of this winter do giants and gods collect their forces for a decisive conflict on Vigrid's plains; and when this conflict is ended, then comes the conflagration of the world, and after it the regeneration. Anent the length of the fimbul-winter, Gylfaginning (ch. 55) claims that it continued for three years "without any intervening summer." Consequently Lif and Leifthraser must have had their secure place of refuge in Mimer's grove during the fimbul-winter, which precedes Ragnarok. And, accordingly, the idea that they were there only during Ragnarok, and all the strange conjectures based thereon, are unfounded. They continue to remain there while the winter rages, and during all the episodes which characterise the progress of the world towards ruin, and, finally, also, as Gylfaginning reports, during the conflagration and regeneration of the world. Thus it is explained why the myth finds it of importance to inform us how Lif and Leifthraser support themselves during their stay in Mimer's grove. It would not have occurred to the myth to present and answer this question had not the sojourn of the human pair in the grove continued for some length of time. Their food is the morning dew. The morning dew from Ygdrasil was, according to the mythology, a sweet and wonderful nourishment, and in the popular traditions of the Teutonic middle age the dew of the morning retained its reputation for having strange, nourishing qualities. According to the myth, it evaporates from the world-tree, which stands, ever green and blooming, over Urd's and Mimer's sacred fountains, and drops thence "in dales" (Völuspa, 18, 28; Gylfag., 16). And as the world-tree is sprinkled and gets its life-giving sap from these fountains, then it follows that the liquid of its morning dew is substantially the same as that of the subterranean fountains, which contain the elixir of life, wisdom, and poesy (cp. Nos. 72, 82, and elsewhere). _At what time_ Mimer's grove was opened as an asylum for Lif and Leifthraser, whether this happened during or shortly before the fimbul-winter, or perchance long before it, on this point there is not a word in the passages quoted from Vafthrudnersmal. But by the following investigation the problem shall be solved. The Teutonic mythology has not looked upon the regeneration of the world as a new creation. The life which in time's morning developed out of chaos is not destroyed by Surt's flames, but rescues itself, purified, for the coming age of the world. The world-tree survives the conflagration, for it defies both edge and fire (Fjolsvinnsm, 20, 21). The Ida-plains are not annihilated. After Ragnarok, as in the beginning of time, they are the scene of the assemblings of the gods (Völuspa, 57; cp. 7). Vanaheim is not affected by the destruction, for Njord shall in _aldar rauc_ (Vafthrudnersmal, 39) return thither "to wise Vans." Odin's dwellings of victory remain, and are inhabited after regeneration by Balder and _Hödr_ (Völuspa, 59). The new sun is the daughter of the old one, and was born before Ragnarok (Vafthr., 47), which she passes through unscathed. The ocean does not disappear in Ragnarok, for the present earth sinks beneath its surface (Völuspa, 54), and the new earth after regeneration rises from its deep (Völuspa, 55). Gods survive (Völuspa, 53, 56; Vafthr. 51; Gylfag., 58). Human beings survive, for Lif and Leifthraser are destined to become the connecting link between the present human race and the better race which is to spring therefrom. Animals and plants survive--though the animals and plants on the surface of the earth perish; but the earth risen from the sea was decorated with green, and there is not the slightest reference to a new act of creation to produce the green vegetation. Its cascades contain living beings, and over them flies the eagle in search of his prey (Völuspa, 56; see further, No. 55). A work of art from antiquity is also preserved in the new world. The game of dice, with which the gods played in their youth while they were yet free from care, is found again among the flowers on the new earth (Völuspa, 8, 58; see further, No. 55). If the regeneration had been conceived as a new creation, a wholly new beginning of life, then the human race of the new era would also have started from a new creation of a human pair. The myth about Lif and Leifthraser would then have been unnecessary and superfluous. But the fundamental idea is that the life of the new era is to be a continuation of the present life purified and developed to perfection, and from the standpoint of this fundamental idea Lif and Leifthraser are necessary. The idea of improvement and perfection are most clearly held forth in regard to both the physical and spiritual condition of the future world. All that is weak and evil shall be redeemed (_bauls mun allz batna_--Völuspa, 59). In that perfection of nature the fields unsown by men shall yield their harvests. To secure the restored world against relapse into the faults of the former, the myth applies radical measures--so radical, that the Asa majesty himself, Valfather, must retire from the scene, in order that his son, the perfectly blameless Balder, may be the centre in the assembly of the chosen gods. But the mythology would fail in its purpose if it did not apply equally radical measures in the choice and care of the human beings who are to perpetuate our race after Ragnarok; for if the progenitors have within them the seed of corruption, it will be developed in their descendants. Has the mythology forgotten to meet this logical claim? The demand is no greater than that which is made in reference to every product of the fancy of whatever age. I do not mean to say that a logical claim made on the mythology, or that a conclusion which may logically be drawn from the premises of the mythology, is to be considered as evidence that the claim has actually been met by the mythology, and that the mythology itself has been developed into its logical conclusion. I simply want to point out what the claim is, and in the next place I desire to investigate whether there is evidence that the claim has been honoured. From the standpoint that there must be a logical harmony in the mythological system, it is necessary: 1. That Lif and Leifthraser when they enter their asylum, Mimer's grove, are physically and spiritually uncorrupted persons. 2. That during their stay in Mimer's grove they are protected against: (_a_) Spiritual degradation. (_b_) Physical degradation. (_c_) Against everything threatening their very existence. So far as the last point (2_c_) is concerned, we know already from Vafthrudnersmal that the place of refuge they received in the vicinity of those fountains, which, with never-failing veins, nourish the life of the world-tree, is approached neither by the frost of the fimbul-winter nor by the flames of Ragnarok. This claim is, therefore, met completely. In regard to the second point (2_b_), the above-cited mythic traditions have preserved from the days of heathendom the memory of a grove in the subterranean domain of Gudmund-Mimer, set aside for living men, not for the dead, and protected against sickness, aging, and death. Thus this claim is met also. As to the third point (2_a_), all we know at present is that there, in the lower world, is found an enclosed place, the very one which death cannot enter, and from which even _those_ mortals are banished by divine command who are admitted to the holy fountains and treasure chambers of the lower world, and who have been permitted to see the regions of bliss and places of punishment there. It would therefore appear that all contact between those who dwell there and those who take part in the events of our world is cut off. The realms of Mimer and the lower world have, according to the sagas--and, as we shall see later, according to the myths themselves--now and then been opened to bold adventurers, who have seen their wonders, looked at their remarkable fountains, their plains for the amusement of the shades of heroes, and their places of punishment of the wicked. But there is one place which has been inaccessible to them, a field proclaimed inviolable by divine command (Gorm's saga), a place surrounded by a wall, which can be entered only by such beings as can pass through the smallest crevices (Hadding's saga).[37] But that this difficulty of entrance also was meant to exclude the moral evil, by which the mankind of our age is stained, is not expressly stated. Thus we have yet to look and see whether the original documents from the heathen times contain any statements which can shed light on this subject. In regard to the point (1), the question it contains as to whether the mythology conceived Lif and Leifthraser as physically and morally undefiled at the time when they entered Mimer's grove, can only be solved if we, in the old records, can find evidence that a wise, foreseeing power opened Mimer's grove as asylum for them, at a time when mankind as a whole had not yet become the prey of physical and moral misery. But in that very primeval age in which the most of the events of mythology are supposed to have happened, creation had already become the victim of corruption. There was a time when the life of the gods was happiness and the joy of youthful activity; the condition of the world did not cause them anxiety, and, free from care, they amused themselves with the wonderful dice (Völuspa, 7, 8). But the golden age ended in physical and moral catastrophies. The air was mixed with treacherous evil; Freyja, the goddess of fertility and modesty, was treacherously delivered into the hands of the frost giants; on the earth the sorceress Heid (_Heid_) strutted about teaching the secrets of black magic, which was hostile to the gods and hurtful to man. The first great war broke out in the world (Völuspa, 21, 22, 26). The effects of this are felt down through the historical ages even to Ragnarok. The corruption of nature culminates in the fimbul-winter of the last days; the corruption of mankind has its climax in "the axe- and knife-ages." The separation of Lif and Leifthraser from their race and confinement in Mimer's grove must have occurred before the above catastrophies in time's beginning, if there is to be a guarantee that the human race of the new world is not to inherit and develop the defects and weaknesses of the present historical generations. [Footnote 37: _Prodcuntibus murus aditu transcensuque difficilis obsistebat, quem femina_ (the subterranean goddess who is Hadding's guide) _nequicquam transilire conata cum ne corrugati quidem exilitate proficeret_ (Saxo, _Hist. Dan._, i. 51).] (_Continuation of Part IV in Volume II._) 
28497	----	Myths of the Norsemen From the Eddas and Sagas By H. A. Guerber Author of "The Myths of Greece and Rome" etc. London George G. Harrap & Company 15 York Street Covent Garden 1909 Printed by Ballantyne & Co. Limited Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London CONTENTS Chap. Page I. The Beginning 1 II. Odin 16 III. Frigga 42 IV. Thor 59 V. Tyr 85 VI. Bragi 95 VII. Idun 103 VIII. Niörd 111 IX. Frey 117 X. Freya 131 XI. Uller 139 XII. Forseti 142 XIII. Heimdall 146 XIV. Hermod 154 XV. Vidar 158 XVI. Vali 162 XVII. The Norns 166 XVIII. The Valkyrs 173 XIX. Hel 180 XX. Ægir 185 XXI. Balder 197 XXII. Loki 216 XXIII. The Giants 230 XXIV. The Dwarfs 239 XXV. The Elves 246 XXVI. The Sigurd Saga 251 XXVII. The Frithiof Saga 298 XXVIII. The Twilight of the Gods 329 XXIX. Greek and Northern Mythologies--A Comparison 342 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Norsemen Landing in Iceland (Oscar Wergeland) Frontispiece   To face page The Giant with the Flaming Sword (J. C. Dollman) 2 The Wolves Pursuing Sol and Mani (J. C. Dollman) 8 Odin (Sir E. Burne-Jones) 16 The Chosen Slain (K. Dielitz) 18 A Viking Foray (J. C. Dollman) 20 The Pied Piper of Hamelin (H. Kaulbach) 28 Odin (B. E. Fogelberg) 36 Frigga Spinning the Clouds (J. C. Dollman) 42 Tannhäuser and Frau Venus (J. Wagrez) 52 Eástre (Jacques Reich) 54 Huldra's Nymphs (B. E. Ward) 58 Thor (B. E. Fogelberg) 60 Sif (J. C. Dollman) 64 Thor and the Mountain (J. C. Dollman) 72 A Foray (A. Malmström) 88 The Binding of Fenris (Dorothy Hardy) 92 Idun (B. E. Ward) 100 Loki and Thiassi (Dorothy Hardy) 104 Frey (Jacques Reich) 118 Freya (N. J. O. Blommér) 132 The Rainbow Bridge (H. Hendrich) 146 Heimdall (Dorothy Hardy) 148 Jarl (Albert Edelfelt) 152 The Norns (C. Ehrenberg) 166 The Dises (Dorothy Hardy) 170 The Swan-Maiden (Gertrude Demain Hammond, R.I.) 174 The Ride of the Valkyrs (J. C. Dollman) 176 Brunhild and Siegmund (J. Wagrez) 178 The Road to Valhalla (Severin Nilsson) 182 Ægir (J. P. Molin) 186 Ran (M. E. Winge) 190 The Neckan (J. P. Molin) 194 Loki and Hodur (C. G. Qvarnström) 202 The Death of Balder (Dorothy Hardy) 206 Hermod before Hela (J. C. Dollman) 210 Loki and Svadilfari (Dorothy Hardy) 222 Loki and Sigyn (M. E. Winge) 228 Thor and the Giants (M. E. Winge) 230 Torghatten 234 The Peaks of the Trolls 244 The Elf-Dance (N. J. O. Blommér) 246 The White Elves (Charles P. Sainton, R.I.) 248 Old Houses with Carved Posts 250 The Were-Wolves (J. C. Dollman) 260 A Hero's Farewell (M. E. Winge) 264 The Funeral Procession (H. Hendrich) 268 Sigurd and Fafnir (K. Dielitz) 274 Sigurd Finds Brunhild (J. Wagrez) 278 Odin and Brunhild (K. Dielitz) 280 Aslaug (Gertrude Demain Hammond, R.I.) 282 Sigurd and Gunnar (J. C. Dollman) 284 The Death of Siegfried (H. Hendrich) 288 The End of Brunhild (J. Wagrez) 290 Ingeborg (M. E. Winge) 304 Frithiof Cleaves the Shield of Helgé (Knut Ekwall) 308 Ingeborg Watches her Lover Depart (Knut Ekwall) 312 Frithiof's Return to Framnäs (Knut Ekwall) 316 Frithiof at the Shrine of Balder (Knut Ekwall) 318 Frithiof at the Court of Ring (Knut Ekwall) 320 Frithiof Watches the Sleeping King (Knut Ekwall) 324 Odin and Fenris (Dorothy Hardy) 334 The Ride of the Valkyrs (H. Hendrich) 344 The Storm-Ride (Gilbert Bayes) 358 INTRODUCTION The prime importance of the rude fragments of poetry preserved in early Icelandic literature will now be disputed by none, but there has been until recent times an extraordinary indifference to the wealth of religious tradition and mythical lore which they contain. The long neglect of these precious records of our heathen ancestors is not the fault of the material in which all that survives of their religious beliefs is enshrined, for it may safely be asserted that the Edda is as rich in the essentials of national romance and race-imagination, rugged though it be, as the more graceful and idyllic mythology of the South. Neither is it due to anything weak in the conception of the deities themselves, for although they may not rise to great spiritual heights, foremost students of Icelandic literature agree that they stand out rude and massive as the Scandinavian mountains. They exhibit "a spirit of victory, superior to brute force, superior to mere matter, a spirit that fights and overcomes." [1] "Even were some part of the matter of their myths taken from others, yet the Norsemen have given their gods a noble, upright, great spirit, and placed them upon a high level that is all their own." [2] "In fact these old Norse songs have a truth in them, an inward perennial truth and greatness. It is a greatness not of mere body and gigantic bulk, but a rude greatness of soul." [3] The introduction of Christianity into the North brought with it the influence of the Classical races, and this eventually supplanted the native genius, so that the alien mythology and literature of Greece and Rome have formed an increasing part of the mental equipment of the northern peoples in proportion as the native literature and tradition have been neglected. Undoubtedly Northern mythology has exercised a deep influence upon our customs, laws, and language, and there has been, therefore, a great unconscious inspiration flowing from these into English literature. The most distinctive traits of this mythology are a peculiar grim humour, to be found in the religion of no other race, and a dark thread of tragedy which runs throughout the whole woof, and these characteristics, touching both extremes, are writ large over English literature. But of conscious influence, compared with the rich draught of Hellenic inspiration, there is little to be found, and if we turn to modern art the difference is even more apparent. This indifference may be attributed to many causes, but it was due first to the fact that the religious beliefs of our pagan ancestors were not held with any real tenacity. Hence the success of the more or less considered policy of the early Christian missionaries to confuse the heathen beliefs, and merge them in the new faith, an interesting example of which is to be seen in the transference to the Christian festival of Easter of the attributes of the pagan goddess Eástre, from whom it took even the name. Northern mythology was in this way arrested ere it had attained its full development, and the progress of Christianity eventually relegated it to the limbo of forgotten things. Its comprehensive and intelligent scheme, however, in strong contrast with the disconnected mythology of Greece and Rome, formed the basis of a more or less rational faith which prepared the Norseman to receive the teaching of Christianity, and so helped to bring about its own undoing. The religious beliefs of the North are not mirrored with any exactitude in the Elder Edda. Indeed only a travesty of the faith of our ancestors has been preserved in Norse literature. The early poet loved allegory, and his imagination rioted among the conceptions of his fertile muse. "His eye was fixed on the mountains till the snowy peaks assumed human features and the giant of the rock or the ice descended with heavy tread; or he would gaze at the splendour of the spring, or of the summer fields, till Freya with the gleaming necklace stepped forth, or Sif with the flowing locks of gold." [4] We are told nothing as to sacrificial and religious rites, and all else is omitted which does not provide material for artistic treatment. The so-called Northern Mythology, therefore, may be regarded as a precious relic of the beginning of Northern poetry, rather than as a representation of the religious beliefs of the Scandinavians, and these literary fragments bear many signs of the transitional stage wherein the confusion of the old and new faiths is easily apparent. But notwithstanding the limitations imposed by long neglect it is possible to reconstruct in part a plan of the ancient Norse beliefs, and the general reader will derive much profit from Carlyle's illuminating study in "Heroes and Hero-worship." "A bewildering, inextricable jungle of delusions, confusions, falsehoods and absurdities, covering the whole field of Life!" he calls them, with all good reason. But he goes on to show, with equal truth, that at the soul of this crude worship of distorted nature was a spiritual force seeking expression. What we probe without reverence they viewed with awe, and not understanding it, straightway deified it, as all children have been apt to do in all stages of the world's history. Truly they were hero-worshippers after Carlyle's own heart, and scepticism had no place in their simple philosophy. It was the infancy of thought gazing upon a universe filled with divinity, and believing heartily with all sincerity. A large-hearted people reaching out in the dark towards ideals which were better than they knew. Ragnarok was to undo their gods because they had stumbled from their higher standards. We have to thank a curious phenomenon for the preservation of so much of the old lore as we still possess. While foreign influences were corrupting the Norse language, it remained practically unaltered in Iceland, which had been colonised from the mainland by the Norsemen who had fled thither to escape the oppression of Harold Fairhair after his crushing victory of Hafrsfirth. These people brought with them the poetic genius which had already manifested itself, and it took fresh root in that barren soil. Many of the old Norse poets were natives of Iceland, and in the early part of the Christian era, a supreme service was rendered to Norse literature by the Christian priest, Sæmund, who industriously brought together a large amount of pagan poetry in a collection known as the Elder Edda, which is the chief foundation of our present knowledge of the religion of our Norse ancestors. Icelandic literature remained a sealed book, however, until the end of the eighteenth century, and very slowly since that time it has been winning its way in the teeth of indifference, until there are now signs that it will eventually come into its own. "To know the old Faith," says Carlyle, "brings us into closer and clearer relation with the Past--with our own possessions in the Past. For the whole Past is the possession of the Present; the Past had always something true, and is a precious possession." The weighty words of William Morris regarding the Volsunga Saga may also be fitly quoted as an introduction to the whole of this collection of "Myths of the Norsemen": "This is the great story of the North, which should be to all our race what the Tale of Troy was to the Greeks--to all our race first, and afterwards, when the change of the world has made our race nothing more than a name of what has been--a story too--then should it be to those that come after us no less than the Tale of Troy has been to us." CHAPTER I: THE BEGINNING Myths of Creation Although the Aryan inhabitants of Northern Europe are supposed by some authorities to have come originally from the plateau of Iran, in the heart of Asia, the climate and scenery of the countries where they finally settled had great influence in shaping their early religious beliefs, as well as in ordering their mode of living. The grand and rugged landscapes of Northern Europe, the midnight sun, the flashing rays of the aurora borealis, the ocean continually lashing itself into fury against the great cliffs and icebergs of the Arctic Circle, could not but impress the people as vividly as the almost miraculous vegetation, the perpetual light, and the blue seas and skies of their brief summer season. It is no great wonder, therefore, that the Icelanders, for instance, to whom we owe the most perfect records of this belief, fancied in looking about them that the world was originally created from a strange mixture of fire and ice. Northern mythology is grand and tragical. Its principal theme is the perpetual struggle of the beneficent forces of Nature against the injurious, and hence it is not graceful and idyllic in character, like the religion of the sunny South, where the people could bask in perpetual sunshine, and the fruits of the earth grew ready to their hand. It was very natural that the dangers incurred in hunting and fishing under these inclement skies, and the suffering entailed by the long cold winters when the sun never shines, made our ancestors contemplate cold and ice as malevolent spirits; and it was with equal reason that they invoked with special fervour the beneficent influences of heat and light. When questioned concerning the creation of the world, the Northern scalds, or poets, whose songs are preserved in the Eddas and Sagas, declared that in the beginning, when there was as yet no earth, nor sea, nor air, when darkness rested over all, there existed a powerful being called Allfather, whom they dimly conceived as uncreated as well as unseen, and that whatever he willed came to pass. In the centre of space there was, in the morning of time, a great abyss called Ginnunga-gap, the cleft of clefts, the yawning gulf, whose depths no eye could fathom, as it was enveloped in perpetual twilight. North of this abode was a space or world known as Nifl-heim, the home of mist and darkness, in the centre of which bubbled the exhaustless spring Hvergelmir, the seething cauldron, whose waters supplied twelve great streams known as the Elivagar. As the water of these streams flowed swiftly away from its source and encountered the cold blasts from the yawning gulf, it soon hardened into huge blocks of ice, which rolled downward into the immeasurable depths of the great abyss with a continual roar like thunder. South of this dark chasm, and directly opposite Nifl-heim, the realm of mist, was another world called Muspells-heim, the home of elemental fire, where all was warmth and brightness, and whose frontiers were continually guarded by Surtr, the flame giant. This giant fiercely brandished his flashing sword, and continually sent forth great showers of sparks, which fell with a hissing sound upon the ice-blocks in the bottom of the abyss, and partly melted them by their heat. "Great Surtur, with his burning sword, Southward at Muspel's gate kept ward, And flashes of celestial flame, Life-giving, from the fire-world came." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Ymir and Audhumla As the steam rose in clouds it again encountered the prevailing cold, and was changed into rime or hoarfrost, which, layer by layer, filled up the great central space. Thus by the continual action of cold and heat, and also probably by the will of the uncreated and unseen, a gigantic creature called Ymir or Orgelmir (seething clay), the personification of the frozen ocean, came to life amid the ice-blocks in the abyss, and as he was born of rime he was called a Hrim-thurs, or ice-giant. "In early times, When Ymir lived, Was sand, nor sea, Nor cooling wave; No earth was found, Nor heaven above; One chaos all, And nowhere grass." Sæmund's Edda (Henderson's tr.). Groping about in the gloom in search of something to eat, Ymir perceived a gigantic cow called Audhumla (the nourisher), which had been created by the same agency as himself, and out of the same materials. Hastening towards her, Ymir noticed with pleasure that from her udder flowed four great streams of milk, which would supply ample nourishment. All his wants were thus satisfied; but the cow, looking about her for food in her turn, began to lick the salt off a neighbouring ice-block with her rough tongue. This she continued to do until first the hair of a god appeared and then the whole head emerged from its icy envelope, until by-and-by Buri (the producer) stepped forth entirely free. While the cow had been thus engaged, Ymir, the giant, had fallen asleep, and as he slept a son and daughter were born from the perspiration under his armpit, and his feet produced the six-headed giant Thrudgelmir, who, shortly after his birth, brought forth in his turn the giant Bergelmir, from whom all the evil frost giants are descended. "Under the armpit grew, 'Tis said of Hrim-thurs, A girl and boy together; Foot with foot begat, Of that wise Jötun, A six-headed son." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Odin, Vili, and Ve When these giants became aware of the existence of the god Buri, and of his son Börr (born), whom he had immediately produced, they began waging war against them, for as the gods and giants represented the opposite forces of good and evil, there was no hope of their living together in peace. The struggle continued evidently for ages, neither party gaining a decided advantage, until Börr married the giantess Bestla, daughter of Bolthorn (the thorn of evil), who bore him three powerful sons, Odin (spirit), Vili (will), and Ve (holy). These three sons immediately joined their father in his struggle against the hostile frost-giants, and finally succeeded in slaying their deadliest foe, the great Ymir. As he sank down lifeless the blood gushed from his wounds in such floods that it produced a great deluge, in which all his race perished, with the exception of Bergelmir, who escaped in a boat and went with his wife to the confines of the world. "And all the race of Ymir thou didst drown, Save one, Bergelmer: he on shipboard fled Thy deluge, and from him the giants sprang." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Here he took up his abode, calling the place Jötunheim (the home of the giants), and here he begat a new race of frost-giants, who inherited his dislikes, continued the feud, and were always ready to sally forth from their desolate country and raid the territory of the gods. The gods, in Northern mythology called Æsir (pillars and supporters of the world), having thus triumphed over their foes, and being no longer engaged in perpetual warfare, now began to look about them, with intent to improve the desolate aspect of things and fashion a habitable world. After due consideration Börr's sons rolled Ymir's great corpse into the yawning abyss, and began to create the world out of its various component parts. The Creation of the Earth Out of the flesh they fashioned Midgard (middle garden), as the earth was called. This was placed in the exact centre of the vast space, and hedged all round with Ymir's eyebrows for bulwarks or ramparts. The solid portion of Midgard was surrounded by the giant's blood or sweat, which formed the ocean, while his bones made the hills, his flat teeth the cliffs, and his curly hair the trees and all vegetation. Well pleased with the result of their first efforts at creation, the gods now took the giant's unwieldy skull and poised it skilfully as the vaulted heavens above earth and sea; then scattering his brains throughout the expanse beneath they fashioned from them the fleecy clouds. "Of Ymir's flesh Was earth created, Of his blood the sea, Of his bones the hills, Of his hair trees and plants, Of his skull the heavens, And of his brows The gentle powers Formed Midgard for the sons of men; But of his brain The heavy clouds are All created." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). To support the heavenly vault, the gods stationed the strong dwarfs, Nordri, Sudri, Austri, Westri, at its four corners, bidding them sustain it upon their shoulders, and from them the four points of the compass received their present names of North, South, East, and West. To give light to the world thus created, the gods studded the heavenly vault with sparks secured from Muspells-heim, points of light which shone steadily through the gloom like brilliant stars. The most vivid of these sparks, however, were reserved for the manufacture of the sun and moon, which were placed in beautiful golden chariots. "And from the flaming world, where Muspel reigns, Thou sent'st and fetched'st fire, and madest lights: Sun, moon, and stars, which thou hast hung in heaven, Dividing clear the paths of night and day." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). When all these preparations had been finished, and the steeds Arvakr (the early waker) and Alsvin (the rapid goer) were harnessed to the sun-chariot, the gods, fearing lest the animals should suffer from their proximity to the ardent sphere, placed under their withers great skins filled with air or with some refrigerant substance. They also fashioned the shield Svalin (the cooler), and placed it in front of the car to shelter them from the sun's direct rays, which would else have burned them and the earth to a cinder. The moon-car was, similarly, provided with a fleet steed called Alsvider (the all-swift); but no shield was required to protect him from the mild rays of the moon. Mani and Sol The chariots were ready, the steeds harnessed and impatient to begin what was to be their daily round, but who should guide them along the right road? The gods looked about them, and their attention was attracted to the two beautiful offspring of the giant Mundilfari. He was very proud of his children, and had named them after the newly created orbs, Mani (the moon) and Sol (the sun). Sol, the Sun-maid, was the spouse of Glaur (glow), who was probably one of Surtr's sons. The names proved to be happily bestowed, as the brother and sister were given the direction of the steeds of their bright namesakes. After receiving due counsel from the gods, they were transferred to the sky, and day by day they fulfilled their appointed duties and guided their steeds along the heavenly paths. "Know that Mundilfær is hight Father to the moon and sun; Age on age shall roll away, While they mark the months and days." Hávamál (W. Taylor's tr.). The gods next summoned Nott (night), a daughter of Norvi, one of the giants, and entrusted to her care a dark chariot, drawn by a sable steed, Hrim-faxi (frost mane), from whose waving mane the dew and hoarfrost dropped down upon the earth. "Hrim-faxi is the sable steed, From the east who brings the night, Fraught with the showering joys of love: As he champs the foamy bit, Drops of dew are scattered round To adorn the vales of earth." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). The goddess of night had thrice been married, and by her first husband, Naglfari, she had had a son named Aud; by her second, Annar, a daughter Jörd (earth); and by her third, the god Dellinger (dawn), another son, of radiant beauty, was now born to her, and he was given the name of Dag (day). As soon as the gods became aware of this beautiful being's existence they provided a chariot for him also, drawn by the resplendent white steed Skin-faxi (shining mane), from whose mane bright beams of light shone forth in every direction, illuminating all the world, and bringing light and gladness to all. "Forth from the east, up the ascent of heaven, Day drove his courser with the shining mane." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). The Wolves Sköll and Hati But as evil always treads close upon the footsteps of good, hoping to destroy it, the ancient inhabitants of the Northern regions imagined that both Sun and Moon were incessantly pursued by the fierce wolves Sköll (repulsion) and Hati (hatred), whose sole aim was to overtake and swallow the brilliant objects before them, so that the world might again be enveloped in its primeval darkness. "Sköll the wolf is named That the fair-faced goddess To the ocean chases; Another Hati hight He is Hrodvitnir's son; He the bright maid of heaven shall precede." Sæmuna's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). At times, they said, the wolves overtook and tried to swallow their prey, thus producing an eclipse of the radiant orbs. Then the terrified people raised such a deafening clamour that the wolves, frightened by the noise, hastily dropped them. Thus rescued, Sun and Moon resumed their course, fleeing more rapidly than before, the hungry monsters rushing along in their wake, lusting for the time when their efforts would prevail and the end of the world would come. For the Northern nations believed that as their gods had sprung from an alliance between the divine element (Börr) and the mortal (Bestla), they were finite, and doomed to perish with the world they had made. "But even in this early morn Faintly foreshadowed was the dawn Of that fierce struggle, deadly shock, Which yet should end in Ragnarok; When Good and Evil, Death and Life, Beginning now, end then their strife." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Mani was accompanied also by Hiuki, the waxing, and Bil, the waning, moon, two children whom he had snatched from earth, where a cruel father forced them to carry water all night. Our ancestors fancied they saw these children, the original "Jack and Jill," with their pail, darkly outlined upon the moon. The gods not only appointed Sun, Moon, Day, and Night to mark the procession of the year, but also called Evening, Midnight, Morning, Forenoon, Noon, and Afternoon to share their duties, making Summer and Winter the rulers of the seasons. Summer, a direct descendant of Svasud (the mild and lovely), inherited his sire's gentle disposition, and was loved by all except Winter, his deadly enemy, the son of Vindsual, himself a son of the disagreeable god Vasud, the personification of the icy wind. "Vindsual is the name of him Who begat the winter's god; Summer from Suasuthur sprang: Both shall walk the way of years, Till the twilight of the gods." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). The cold winds continually swept down from the north, chilling all the earth, and the Northmen imagined that these were set in motion by the great giant Hræ-svelgr (the corpse-swallower), who, clad in eagle plumes, sat at the extreme northern verge of the heavens, and that when he raised his arms or wings the cold blasts darted forth and swept ruthlessly over the face of the earth, blighting all things with their icy breath. "Hræ-svelger is the name of him Who sits beyond the end of heaven, And winnows wide his eagle-wings, Whence the sweeping blasts have birth." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). Dwarfs and Elves While the gods were occupied in creating the earth and providing for its illumination, a whole host of maggot-like creatures had been breeding in Ymir's flesh. These uncouth beings now attracted divine attention. Summoning them into their presence, the gods first gave them forms and endowed them with superhuman intelligence, and then divided them into two large classes. Those which were dark, treacherous, and cunning by nature were banished to Svart-alfa-heim, the home of the black dwarfs, situated underground, whence they were never allowed to come forth during the day, under penalty of being turned into stone. They were called Dwarfs, Trolls, Gnomes, or Kobolds, and spent all their time and energy in exploring the secret recesses of the earth. They collected gold, silver, and precious stones, which they stowed away in secret crevices, whence they could withdraw them at will. The remainder of these small creatures, including all that were fair, good, and useful, the gods called Fairies and Elves, and they sent them to dwell in the airy realm of Alf-heim (home of the light-elves), situated between heaven and earth, whence they could flit downward whenever they pleased, to attend to the plants and flowers, sport with the birds and butterflies, or dance in the silvery moonlight on the green. Odin, who had been the leading spirit in all these undertakings, now bade the gods, his descendants, follow him to the broad plain called Idawold, far above the earth, on the other side of the great stream Ifing, whose waters never froze. "Ifing's deep and murky wave Parts the ancient sons of earth From the dwelling of the Goths: Open flows the mighty flood, Nor shall ice arrest its course While the wheel of Ages rolls." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). In the centre of the sacred space, which from the beginning of the world had been reserved for their own abode and called Asgard (home of the gods), the twelve Æsir (gods) and twenty-four Asynjur (goddesses) all assembled at the bidding of Odin. Then was held a great council, at which it was decreed that no blood should be shed within the limits of their realm, or peace-stead, but that harmony should reign there for ever. As a further result of the conference the gods set up a forge where they fashioned all their weapons and the tools required to build the magnificent palaces of precious metals, in which they lived for many long years in a state of such perfect happiness that this period has been called the Golden Age. The Creation of Man Although the gods had from the beginning designed Midgard, or Mana-heim, as the abode of man, there were at first no human beings to inhabit it. One day Odin, Vili, and Ve, according to some authorities, or Odin, Hoenir (the bright one), and Lodur, or Loki (fire), started out together and walked along the seashore, where they found either two trees, the ash, Ask, and the elm, Embla, or two blocks of wood, hewn into rude semblances of the human form. The gods gazed at first upon the inanimate wood in silent wonder; then, perceiving the use it could be put to, Odin gave these logs souls, Hoenir bestowed motion and senses, and Lodur contributed blood and blooming complexions. Thus endowed with speech and thought, and with power to love and to hope and to work, and with life and death, the newly created man and woman were left to rule Midgard at will. They gradually peopled it with their descendants, while the gods, remembering they had called them into life, took a special interest in all they did, watched over them, and often vouchsafed their aid and protection. The Tree Yggdrasil Allfather next created a huge ash called Yggdrasil, the tree of the universe, of time, or of life, which filled all the world, taking root not only in the remotest depths of Nifl-heim, where bubbled the spring Hvergelmir, but also in Midgard, near Mimir's well (the ocean), and in Asgard, near the Urdar fountain. From its three great roots the tree attained such a marvellous height that its topmost bough, called Lerad (the peace-giver), overshadowed Odin's hall, while the other wide-spreading branches towered over the other worlds. An eagle was perched on the bough Lerad, and between his eyes sat the falcon Vedfolnir, sending his piercing glances down into heaven, earth, and Nifl-heim, and reporting all that he saw. As the tree Yggdrasil was ever green, its leaves never withering, it served as pasture-ground not only for Odin's goat Heidrun, which supplied the heavenly mead, the drink of the gods, but also for the stags Dain, Dvalin, Duneyr, and Durathor, from whose horns honey-dew dropped down upon the earth and furnished the water for all the rivers in the world. In the seething cauldron Hvergelmir, close by the great tree, a horrible dragon, called Nidhug, continually gnawed the roots, and was helped in his work of destruction by countless worms, whose aim it was to kill the tree, knowing that its death would be the signal for the downfall of the gods. "Through all our life a tempter prowls malignant, The cruel Nidhug from the world below. He hates that asa-light whose rays benignant On th' hero's brow and glitt'ring sword bright glow." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). Scampering continually up and down the branches and trunk of the tree, the squirrel Ratatosk (branch-borer), the typical busybody and tale-bearer, passed its time repeating to the dragon below the remarks of the eagle above, and vice versa, in the hope of stirring up strife between them. The Bridge Bifröst It was, of course, essential that the tree Yggdrasil should be maintained in a perfectly healthy condition, and this duty was performed by the Norns, or Fates, who daily sprinkled it with the holy waters from the Urdar fountain. This water, as it trickled down to earth through branches and leaves, supplied the bees with honey. From either edge of Nifl-heim, arching high above Midgard, rose the sacred bridge, Bifröst (Asabru, the rainbow), built of fire, water, and air, whose quivering and changing hues it retained, and over which the gods travelled to and fro to the earth or to the Urdar well, at the foot of the ash Yggdrasil, where they daily assembled in council. "The gods arose And took their horses, and set forth to ride O'er the bridge Bifrost, where is Heimdall's watch, To the ash Igdrasil, and Ida's plain. Thor came on foot, the rest on horseback rode." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Of all the gods Thor only, the god of thunder, never passed over the bridge, for fear lest his heavy tread or the heat of his lightnings would destroy it. The god Heimdall kept watch and ward there night and day. He was armed with a trenchant sword, and carried a trumpet called Giallar-horn, upon which he generally blew a soft note to announce the coming or going of the gods, but upon which a terrible blast would be sounded when Ragnarok should come, and the frost-giants and Surtr combined to destroy the world. "Surt from the south comes With flickering flame; Shines from his sword The Val-god's sun. The stony hills are dashed together, The giantesses totter; Men tread the path of Hel, And heaven is cloven." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). The Vanas Now although the original inhabitants of heaven were the Æsir, they were not the sole divinities of the Northern races, who also recognised the power of the sea- and wind-gods, the Vanas, dwelling in Vana-heim and ruling their realms as they pleased. In early times, before the golden palaces in Asgard were built, a dispute arose between the Æsir and Vanas, and they resorted to arms, using rocks, mountains, and icebergs as missiles in the fray. But discovering ere long that in unity alone lay strength, they composed their differences and made peace, and to ratify the treaty they exchanged hostages. It was thus that the Van, Niörd, came to dwell in Asgard with his two children, Frey and Freya, while the Asa, Hoenir, Odin's own brother, took up his abode in Vana-heim. CHAPTER II: ODIN The Father of Gods and Men Odin, Wuotan, or Woden was the highest and holiest god of the Northern races. He was the all-pervading spirit of the universe, the personification of the air, the god of universal wisdom and victory, and the leader and protector of princes and heroes. As all the gods were supposed to be descended from him, he was surnamed Allfather, and as eldest and chief among them he occupied the highest seat in Asgard. Known by the name of Hlidskialf, this chair was not only an exalted throne, but also a mighty watch-tower, from whence he could overlook the whole world and see at a glance all that was happening among gods, giants, elves, dwarfs, and men. "From the hall of Heaven he rode away To Lidskialf, and sate upon his throne, The mount, from whence his eye surveys the world. And far from Heaven he turned his shining orbs To look on Midgard, and the earth, and men." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Odin's Personal Appearance None but Odin and his wife and queen Frigga were privileged to use this seat, and when they occupied it they generally gazed towards the south and west, the goal of all the hopes and excursions of the Northern nations. Odin was generally represented as a tall, vigorous man, about fifty years of age, either with dark curling hair or with a long grey beard and bald head. He was clad in a suit of grey, with a blue hood, and his muscular body was enveloped in a wide blue mantle flecked with grey--an emblem of the sky with its fleecy clouds. In his hand Odin generally carried the infallible spear Gungnir, which was so sacred that an oath sworn upon its point could never be broken, and on his finger or arm he wore the marvellous ring, Draupnir, the emblem of fruitfulness, precious beyond compare. When seated upon his throne or armed for the fray, to mingle in which he would often descend to earth, Odin wore his eagle helmet; but when he wandered peacefully about the earth in human guise, to see what men were doing, he generally donned a broad-brimmed hat, drawn low over his forehead to conceal the fact that he possessed but one eye. Two ravens, Hugin (thought) and Munin (memory), perched upon his shoulders as he sat upon his throne, and these he sent out into the wide world every morning, anxiously watching for their return at nightfall, when they whispered into his ears news of all they had seen and heard. Thus he was kept well informed about everything that was happening on earth. "Hugin and Munin Fly each day Over the spacious earth. I fear for Hugin That he come not back, Yet more anxious am I for Munin." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). At his feet crouched two wolves or hunting hounds, Geri and Freki, animals which were therefore considered sacred to him, and of good omen if met by the way. Odin always fed these wolves with his own hands from meat set before him. He required no food at all for himself, and seldom tasted anything except the sacred mead. "Geri and Freki The war-wont sates, The triumphant sire of hosts; But on wine only The famed in arms Odin, ever lives." Lay of Grimnir (Thorpe's tr.). When seated in state upon his throne, Odin rested his feet upon a footstool of gold, the work of the gods, all of whose furniture and utensils were fashioned either of that precious metal or of silver. Besides the magnificent hall Glads-heim, where stood the twelve seats occupied by the gods when they met in council, and Valaskialf, where his throne, Hlidskialf, was placed, Odin had a third palace in Asgard, situated in the midst of the marvellous grove Glasir, whose shimmering leaves were of red gold. Valhalla This palace, called Valhalla (the hall of the chosen slain), had five hundred and forty doors, wide enough to allow the passage of eight hundred warriors abreast, and above the principal gate were a boar's head and an eagle whose piercing glance penetrated to the far corners of the world. The walls of this marvellous building were fashioned of glittering spears, so highly polished that they illuminated the hall. The roof was of golden shields, and the benches were decorated with fine armour, the god's gifts to his guests. Here long tables afforded ample accommodation for the Einheriar, warriors fallen in battle, who were specially favoured by Odin. "Easily to be known is, By those who to Odin come, The mansion by its aspect. Its roof with spears is laid, Its hall with shields is decked, With corselets are its benches strewed." Lay of Grimnir (Thorpe's tr.). The ancient Northern nations, who deemed warfare the most honourable of occupations, and considered courage the greatest virtue, worshipped Odin principally as god of battle and victory. They believed that whenever a fight was impending he sent out his special attendants, the shield-, battle-, or wish-maidens, called Valkyrs (choosers of the slain), who selected from the dead warriors one-half of their number, whom they bore on their fleet steeds over the quivering rainbow bridge, Bifröst, into Valhalla. Welcomed by Odin's sons, Hermod and Bragi, the heroes were conducted to the foot of Odin's throne, where they received the praise due to their valour. When some special favourite of the god was thus brought into Asgard, Valfather (father of the slain), as Odin was called when he presided over the warriors, would sometimes rise from his throne and in person bid him welcome at the great entrance gate. The Feast of the Heroes Besides the glory of such distinction, and the enjoyment of Odin's beloved presence day after day, other more material pleasures awaited the warriors in Valhalla. Generous entertainment was provided for them at the long tables, where the beautiful white-armed virgins, the Valkyrs, having laid aside their armour and clad themselves in pure white robes, waited upon them with assiduous attention. These maidens, nine in number according to some authorities, brought the heroes great horns full of delicious mead, and set before them huge portions of boar's flesh, upon which they feasted heartily. The usual Northern drink was beer or ale, but our ancestors fancied this beverage too coarse for the heavenly sphere. They therefore imagined that Valfather kept his table liberally supplied with mead or hydromel, which was daily furnished in great abundance by his she-goat Heidrun, who continually browsed on the tender leaves and twigs on Lerad, Yggdrasil's topmost branch. "Rash war and perilous battle, their delight; And immature, and red with glorious wounds, Unpeaceful death their choice: deriving thence A right to feast and drain immortal bowls, In Odin's hall; whose blazing roof resounds The genial uproar of those shades who fall In desperate fight, or by some brave attempt." Liberty (James Thomson). The meat upon which the Einheriar feasted was the flesh of the divine boar Sæhrimnir, a marvellous beast, daily slain by the cook Andhrimnir, and boiled in the great cauldron Eldhrimnir; but although Odin's guests had true Northern appetites and gorged themselves to the full, there was always plenty of meat for all. "Andhrimnir cooks In Eldhrimnir Sæhrimnir; 'Tis the best of flesh; But few know What the einherjes eat." Lay of Grimnir (Anderson's version). Moreover, the supply was exhaustless, for the boar always came to life again before the time of the next meal. This miraculous renewal of supplies in the larder was not the only wonderful occurrence in Valhalla, for it is related that the warriors, after having eaten and drunk to satiety, always called for their weapons, armed themselves, and rode out into the great courtyard, where they fought against one another, repeating the feats of arms for which they were famed on earth, and recklessly dealing terrible wounds, which, however, were miraculously and completely healed as soon as the dinner horn sounded. "All the chosen guests of Odin Daily ply the trade of war; From the fields of festal fight Swift they ride in gleaming arms, And gaily, at the board of gods, Quaff the cup of sparkling ale And eat Sæhrimni's vaunted flesh." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). Whole and happy at the sound of the horn, and bearing one another no grudge for cruel thrusts given and received, the Einheriar would ride gaily back to Valhalla to renew their feasts in Odin's beloved presence, while the white-armed Valkyrs, with flying hair, glided gracefully about, constantly filling their horns or their favourite drinking vessels, the skulls of their enemies, while the scalds sang of war and of stirring Viking forays. "And all day long they there are hack'd and hewn 'Mid dust, and groans, and limbs lopped off, and blood; But all at night return to Odin's hall Woundless and fresh: such lot is theirs in heaven." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Fighting and feasting thus, the heroes were said to spend their days in perfect bliss, while Odin delighted in their strength and number, which, however, he foresaw would not avail to prevent his downfall when the day of the last battle should dawn. As such pleasures were the highest a Northern warrior's fancy could paint, it was very natural that all fighting men should love Odin, and early in life should dedicate themselves to his service. They vowed to die arms in hand, if possible, and even wounded themselves with their own spears when death drew near, if they had been unfortunate enough to escape death on the battlefield and were threatened with "straw death," as they called decease from old age or sickness. "To Odin then true-fast Carves he fair runics,-- Death-runes cut deep on his arm and his breast." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). In reward for this devotion Odin watched with special care over his favourites, giving them gifts, a magic sword, a spear, or a horse, and making them invincible until their last hour had come, when he himself appeared to claim or destroy the gift he had bestowed, and the Valkyrs bore the heroes to Valhalla. "He gave to Hermod A helm and corselet, And from him Sigmund A sword received." Lay of Hyndla (Thorpe's tr.). Sleipnir When Odin took an active part in war, he generally rode his eight-footed grey steed, Sleipnir, and bore a white shield. His glittering spear flung over the heads of the combatants was the signal for the fray to commence, and he would dash into the midst of the ranks shouting his warcry: "Odin has you all!" "And Odin donned His dazzling corslet and his helm of gold, And led the way on Sleipnir." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). At times he used his magic bow, from which he would shoot ten arrows at once, every one invariably bringing down a foe. Odin was also supposed to inspire his favourite warriors with the renowned "Berserker rage" (bare sark or shirt), which enabled them, although naked, weaponless, and sore beset, to perform unheard-of feats of valour and strength, and move about as with charmed lives. As Odin's characteristics, like the all-pervading elements, were multitudinous, so also were his names, of which he had no less than two hundred, almost all descriptive of some phase of his activities. He was considered the ancient god of seamen and of the wind. "Mighty Odin, Norsemen hearts we bend to thee! Steer our barks, all-potent Woden, O'er the surging Baltic Sea." Vail. The Wild Hunt Odin, as wind-god, was pictured as rushing through mid-air on his eight-footed steed, from which originated the oldest Northern riddle, which runs as follows: "Who are the two who ride to the Thing? Three eyes have they together, ten feet, and one tail: and thus they travel through the lands." And as the souls of the dead were supposed to be wafted away on the wings of the storm, Odin was worshipped as the leader of all disembodied spirits. In this character he was most generally known as the Wild Huntsman, and when people heard the rush and roar of the wind they cried aloud in superstitious fear, fancying they heard and saw him ride past with his train, all mounted on snorting steeds, and accompanied by baying hounds. And the passing of the Wild Hunt, known as Woden's Hunt, the Raging Host, Gabriel's Hounds, or Asgardreia, was also considered a presage of such misfortune as pestilence or war. "The Rhine flows bright; but its waves ere long Must hear a voice of war, And a clash of spears our hills among, And a trumpet from afar; And the brave on a bloody turf must lie, For the Huntsman hath gone by!" The Wild Huntsman (Mrs. Hemans). It was further thought that if any were so sacrilegious as to join in the wild halloo in mockery, they would be immediately snatched up and whirled away with the vanishing host, while those who joined in the halloo with implicit good faith would be rewarded by the sudden gift of a horse's leg, hurled at them from above, which, if carefully kept until the morrow, would be changed into a lump of gold. Even after the introduction of Christianity the ignorant Northern folk still dreaded the on-coming storm, declaring that it was the Wild Hunt sweeping across the sky. "And ofttimes will start, For overhead are sweeping Gabriel's hounds, Doomed with their impious lord the flying hart To chase forever on aëreal grounds." Sonnet (Wordsworth). Sometimes it left behind a small black dog, which, cowering and whining upon a neighbouring hearth, had to be kept for a whole year and carefully tended unless it could be exorcised or frightened away. The usual recipe, the same as for the riddance of changelings, was to brew beer in egg-shells, and this performance was supposed so to startle the spectral dog that he would fly with his tail between his legs, exclaiming that, although as old as the Behmer, or Bohemian forest, he had never before beheld such an uncanny sight. "I am as old As the Behmer wold, And have in my life Such a brewing not seen." Old Saying (Thorpe's tr.) The object of this phantom hunt varied greatly, and was either a visonary boar or wild horse, white-breasted maidens who were caught and borne away bound only once in seven years, or the wood nymphs, called Moss Maidens, who were thought to represent the autumn leaves torn from the trees and whirled away by the wintry gale. In the middle ages, when the belief in the old heathen deities was partly forgotten, the leader of the Wild Hunt was no longer Odin, but Charlemagne, Frederick Barbarossa, King Arthur, or some Sabbath-breaker, like the Squire of Rodenstein or Hans von Hackelberg, who, in punishment for his sins, was condemned to hunt for ever through the realms of air. As the winds blew fiercest in autumn and winter, Odin was supposed to prefer hunting during that season, especially during the time between Christmas and Twelfth-night, and the peasants were always careful to leave the last sheaf or measure of grain out in the fields to serve as food for his horse. This hunt was of course known by various names in the different countries of Northern Europe; but as the tales told about it are all alike, they evidently originated in the same old heathen belief, and to this day ignorant people of the North fancy that the baying of a hound on a stormy night is an infallible presage of death. "Still, still shall last the dreadful chase, Till time itself shall have an end; By day, they scour earth's cavern'd space, At midnight's witching hour, ascend. "This is the horn, and hound, and horse That oft the lated peasant hears; Appall'd, he signs the frequent cross, When the wild din invades his ears. "The wakeful priest oft drops a tear For human pride, for human woe, When, at his midnight mass, he hears The infernal cry of 'Holla, ho!'" Sir Walter Scott. The Wild Hunt, or Raging Host of Germany, was called Herlathing in England, from the mythical king Herla, its supposed leader; in Northern France it bore the name of Mesnée d'Hellequin, from Hel, goddess of death; and in the middle ages it was known as Cain's Hunt or Herod's Hunt, these latter names being given because the leaders were supposed to be unable to find rest on account of the iniquitous murders of Abel, of John the Baptist, and of the Holy Innocents. In Central France the Wild Huntsman, whom we have already seen in other countries as Odin, Charlemagne, Barbarossa, Rodenstein, von Hackelberg, King Arthur, Hel, one of the Swedish kings, Gabriel, Cain, or Herod, is also called the Great Huntsman of Fontainebleau (le Grand Veneur de Fontainebleau), and people declare that on the eve of Henry IV.'s murder, and also just before the outbreak of the great French Revolution, his shouts were distinctly heard as he swept across the sky. It was generally believed among the Northern nations that the soul escaped from the body in the shape of a mouse, which crept out of a corpse's mouth and ran away, and it was also said to creep in and out of the mouths of people in a trance. While the soul was absent, no effort or remedy could recall the patient to life; but as soon as it had come back animation returned. The Pied Piper As Odin was the leader of all disembodied spirits, he was identified in the middle ages with the Pied Piper of Hamelin. According to mediæval legends, Hamelin was so infested by rats that life became unbearable, and a large reward was offered to any who would rid the town of these rodents. A piper, in parti-coloured garments, offered to undertake the commission, and the terms being accepted, he commenced to play through the streets in such wise that, one and all, the rats were beguiled out of their holes until they formed a vast procession. There was that in the strains which compelled them to follow, until at last the river Weser was reached, and all were drowned in its tide. "And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, You heard as if an army muttered; And the muttering grew to a grumbling; And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives-- Followed the Piper for their lives. From street to street he piped advancing, And step for step they followed dancing, Until they came to the river Weser, Wherein all plunged and perished!" Robert Browning. As the rats were all dead, and there was no chance of their returning to plague them, the people of Hamelin refused to pay the reward, and they bade the piper do his worst. He took them at their word, and a few moments later the weird strains of the magic flute again arose, and this time it was the children who swarmed out of the houses and merrily followed the piper. "There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling; Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering, Out came all the children running. All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music with shouting and laughter." Robert Browning. The burghers were powerless to prevent the tragedy, and as they stood spellbound the piper led the children out of the town to the Koppelberg, a hill on the confines of the town, which miraculously opened to receive the procession, and only closed again when the last child had passed out of sight. This legend probably originated the adage "to pay the piper." The children were never seen in Hamelin again, and in commemoration of this public calamity all official decrees have since been dated so many years after the Pied Piper's visit. "They made a decree that lawyers never Should think their records dated duly If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear, 'And so long after what happened here On the Twenty-second of July, Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:' And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it the Pied Piper Street-- Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labour." Robert Browning. In this myth Odin is the piper, the shrill tones of the flute are emblematic of the whistling wind, the rats represent the souls of the dead, which cheerfully follow him, and the hollow mountain into which he leads the children is typical of the grave. Bishop Hatto Another German legend which owes its existence to this belief is the story of Bishop Hatto, the miserly prelate, who, annoyed by the clamours of the poor during a time of famine, had them burned alive in a deserted barn, like the rats whom he declared they resembled, rather than give them some of the precious grain which he had laid up for himself. "'I' faith, 'tis an excellent bonfire!' quoth he, 'And the country is greatly obliged to me For ridding it in these times forlorn Of rats that only consume the corn.'" Robert Southey. Soon after this terrible crime had been accomplished the bishop's retainers reported the approach of a vast swarm of rats. These, it appears, were the souls of the murdered peasants, which had assumed the forms of the rats to which the bishop had likened them. His efforts to escape were vain, and the rats pursued him even into the middle of the Rhine, to a stone tower in which he took refuge from their fangs. They swam to the tower, gnawed their way through the stone walls, and, pouring in on all sides at once, they found the bishop and devoured him alive. "And in at the windows, and in at the door, And through the walls, helter-skelter they pour, And down from the ceiling, and up through the floor, From the right and the left, from behind and before, From within and without, from above and below, And all at once to the Bishop they go. They have whetted their teeth against the stones; And now they pick the Bishop's bones; They gnaw'd the flesh from every limb, For they were sent to do judgment on him!" Robert Southey. The red glow of the sunset above the Rat Tower near Bingen on the Rhine is supposed to be the reflection of the hell fire in which the wicked bishop is slowly roasting in punishment for his heinous crime. Irmin In some parts of Germany Odin was considered to be identical with the Saxon god Irmin, whose statue, the Irminsul, near Paderborn, was destroyed by Charlemagne in 772. Irmin was said to possess a ponderous brazen chariot, in which he rode across the sky along the path which we know as the Milky Way, but which the ancient Germans designated as Irmin's Way. This chariot, whose rumbling sound occasionally became perceptible to mortal ears as thunder, never left the sky, where it can still be seen in the constellation of the Great Bear, which is also known in the North as Odin's, or Charles's, Wain. "The Wain, who wheels on high His circling course, and on Orion waits; Sole star that never bathes in the Ocean wave." Homer's Iliad (Derby's tr.). Mimir's Well To obtain the great wisdom for which he is so famous, Odin, in the morn of time, visited Mimir's (Memor, memory) spring, "the fountain of all wit and wisdom," in whose liquid depths even the future was clearly mirrored, and besought the old man who guarded it to let him have a draught. But Mimir, who well knew the value of such a favour (for his spring was considered the source or headwater of memory), refused the boon unless Odin would consent to give one of his eyes in exchange. The god did not hesitate, so highly did he prize the draught, but immediately plucked out one of his eyes, which Mimir kept in pledge, sinking it deep down into his fountain, where it shone with mild lustre, leaving Odin with but one eye, which is considered emblematic of the sun. "Through our whole lives we strive towards the sun; That burning forehead is the eye of Odin. His second eye, the moon, shines not so bright; It has he placed in pledge in Mimer's fountain, That he may fetch the healing waters thence, Each morning, for the strengthening of this eye." Oehlenschläger (Howitt's tr.). Drinking deeply of Mimir's fount, Odin gained the knowledge he coveted, and he never regretted the sacrifice he had made, but as further memorial of that day broke off a branch of the sacred tree Yggdrasil, which overshadowed the spring, and fashioned from it his beloved spear Gungnir. "A dauntless god Drew for drink to its gleam, Where he left in endless Payment the light of an eye. From the world-ash Ere Wotan went he broke a bough; For a spear the staff He split with strength from the stem." Dusk of the Gods, Wagner (Forman's tr.). But although Odin was now all-wise, he was sad and oppressed, for he had gained an insight into futurity, and had become aware of the transitory nature of all things, and even of the fate of the gods, who were doomed to pass away. This knowledge so affected his spirits that he ever after wore a melancholy and contemplative expression. To test the value of the wisdom he had thus obtained, Odin went to visit the most learned of all the giants, Vafthrudnir, and entered with him into a contest of wit, in which the stake was nothing less than the loser's head. "Odin rose with speed, and went To contend in runic lore With the wise and crafty Jute. To Vafthrudni's royal hall Came the mighty king of spells." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). Odin and Vafthrudnir On this occasion Odin had disguised himself as a Wanderer, by Frigga's advice, and when asked his name declared it was Gangrad. The contest of wit immediately began, Vafthrudnir questioning his guest concerning the horses which carried Day and Night across the sky, the river Ifing separating Jötun-heim from Asgard, and also about Vigrid, the field where the last battle was to be fought. All these questions were minutely answered by Odin, who, when Vafthrudnir had ended, began the interrogatory in his turn, and received equally explicit answers about the origin of heaven and earth, the creation of the gods, their quarrel with the Vanas, the occupations of the heroes in Valhalla, the offices of the Norns, and the rulers who were to replace the Æsir when they had all perished with the world they had created. But when, in conclusion, Odin bent near the giant and softly inquired what words Allfather whispered to his dead son Balder as he lay upon his funeral pyre, Vafthrudnir suddenly recognised his divine visitor. Starting back in dismay, he declared that no one but Odin himself could answer that question, and that it was now quite plain to him that he had madly striven in a contest of wisdom and wit with the king of the gods, and fully deserved the penalty of failure, the loss of his head. "Not the man of mortal race Knows the words which thou hast spoken To thy son in days of yore. I hear the coming tread of death; He soon shall raze the runic lore, And knowledge of the rise of gods, From his ill-fated soul who strove With Odin's self the strife of wit, Wisest of the wise that breathe: Our stake was life, and thou hast won." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). As is the case with so many of the Northern myths, which are often fragmentary and obscure, this one ends here, and none of the scalds informs us whether Odin really slew his rival, nor what was the answer to his last question; but mythologists have hazarded the suggestion that the word whispered by Odin in Balder's ear, to console him for his untimely death, must have been "resurrection." Invention of Runes Besides being god of wisdom, Odin was god and inventor of runes, the earliest alphabet used by Northern nations, which characters, signifying mystery, were at first used for divination, although in later times they served for inscriptions and records. Just as wisdom could only be obtained at the cost of sacrifice, Odin himself relates that he hung nine days and nights from the sacred tree Yggdrasil, gazing down into the immeasurable depths of Nifl-heim, plunged in deep thought, and self-wounded with his spear, ere he won the knowledge he sought. "I know that I hung On a wind-rocked tree Nine whole nights, With a spear wounded, And to Odin offered Myself to myself; On that tree Of which no one knows From what root it springs." Odin's Rune-Song (Thorpe's tr.). When he had fully mastered this knowledge, Odin cut magic runes upon his spear Gungnir, upon the teeth of his horse Sleipnir, upon the claws of the bear, and upon countless other animate and inanimate things. And because he had thus hung over the abyss for such a long space of time, he was ever after considered the patron divinity of all who were condemned to be hanged or who perished by the noose. After obtaining the gift of wisdom and runes, which gave him power over all things, Odin also coveted the gift of eloquence and poetry, which he acquired in a manner which we shall relate in a subsequent chapter. Geirrod and Agnar Odin, as has already been stated, took great interest in the affairs of mortals, and, we are told, was specially fond of watching King Hrauding's handsome little sons, Geirrod and Agnar, when they were about eight and ten years of age respectively. One day these little lads went fishing, and a storm suddenly arose which blew their boat far out to sea, where it finally stranded upon an island, upon which dwelt a seeming old couple, who in reality were Odin and Frigga in disguise. They had assumed these forms in order to indulge a sudden passion for the close society of their protégés. The lads were warmly welcomed and kindly treated, Odin choosing Geirrod as his favourite, and teaching him the use of arms, while Frigga petted and made much of little Agnar. The boys tarried on the island with their kind protectors during the long, cold winter season; but when spring came, and the skies were blue, and the sea calm, they embarked in a boat which Odin provided, and set out for their native shore. Favoured by gentle breezes, they were soon wafted thither; but as the boat neared the strand Geirrod quickly sprang out and pushed it far back into the water, bidding his brother sail away into the evil spirit's power. At that self-same moment the wind veered, and Agnar was indeed carried away, while his brother hastened to his father's palace with a lying tale as to what had happened to his brother. He was joyfully received as one from the dead, and in due time he succeeded his father upon the throne. Years passed by, during which the attention of Odin had been claimed by other high considerations, when one day, while the divine couple were seated on the throne Hlidskialf, Odin suddenly remembered the winter's sojourn on the desert island, and he bade his wife notice how powerful his pupil had become, and taunted her because her favourite Agnar had married a giantess and had remained poor and of no consequence. Frigga quietly replied that it was better to be poor than hardhearted, and accused Geirrod of lack of hospitality--one of the most heinous crimes in the eyes of a Northman. She even went so far as to declare that in spite of all his wealth he often ill-treated his guests. When Odin heard this accusation he declared that he would prove the falsity of the charge by assuming the guise of a Wanderer and testing Geirrod's generosity. Wrapped in his cloud-hued raiment, with slouch hat and pilgrim staff,-- "Wanderer calls me the world, Far have I carried my feet, On the back of the earth I have boundlessly been,"-- Wagner (Forman's tr.). Odin immediately set out by a roundabout way, while Frigga, to outwit him, immediately despatched a swift messenger to warn Geirrod to beware of a man in wide mantle and broad-brimmed hat, as he was a wicked enchanter who would work him ill. When, therefore, Odin presented himself before the king's palace he was dragged into Geirrod's presence and questioned roughly. He gave his name as Grimnir, but refused to tell whence he came or what he wanted, so as this reticence confirmed the suspicion suggested to the mind of Geirrod, he allowed his love of cruelty full play, and commanded that the stranger should be bound between two fires, in such wise that the flames played around him without quite touching him, and he remained thus eight days and nights, in obstinate silence, without food. Now Agnar had returned secretly to his brother's palace, where he occupied a menial position, and one night when all was still, in pity for the suffering of the unfortunate captive, he conveyed to his lips a horn of ale. But for this Odin would have had nothing to drink--the most serious of all trials to the god. At the end of the eighth day, while Geirrod, seated upon his throne, was gloating over his prisoner's sufferings, Odin began to sing--softly at first, then louder and louder, until the hall re-echoed with his triumphant notes--a prophecy that the king, who had so long enjoyed the god's favour, would soon perish by his own sword. "The fallen by the sword Ygg shall now have; Thy life is now run out: Wroth with thee are the Dísir: Odin thou now shalt see: Draw near to me if thou canst." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). As the last notes died away the chains dropped from his hands, the flames flickered and went out, and Odin stood in the midst of the hall, no longer in human form, but in all the power and beauty of a god. On hearing the ominous prophecy Geirrod hastily drew his sword, intending to slay the insolent singer; but when he beheld the sudden transformation he started in dismay, tripped, fell upon the sharp blade, and perished as Odin had just foretold. Turning to Agnar, who, according to some accounts, was the king's son, and not his brother, for these old stories are often strangely confused, Odin bade him ascend the throne in reward for his humanity, and, further to repay him for the timely draught of ale, he promised to bless him with all manner of prosperity. On another occasion Odin wandered to earth, and was absent so long that the gods began to think that they would not see him in Asgard again. This encouraged his brothers Vili and Ve, who by some mythologists are considered as other personifications of himself, to usurp his power and his throne, and even, we are told, to espouse his wife Frigga. "Be thou silent, Frigg! Thou art Fiörgyn's daughter And ever hast been fond of men, Since Ve and Vili, it is said, Thou, Vidrir's wife, didst Both to thy bosom take." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). May-Day Festivals But upon Odin's return the usurpers vanished for ever; and in commemoration of the disappearance of the false Odin, who had ruled seven months and had brought nothing but unhappiness to the world, and of the return of the benevolent deity, the heathen Northmen formerly celebrated yearly festivals, which were long continued as May Day rejoicings. Until very lately there was always, on that day, a grand procession in Sweden, known as the May Ride, in which a flower-decked May king (Odin) pelted with blossoms the fur-enveloped Winter (his supplanter), until he put him to ignominious flight. In England also the first of May was celebrated as a festive occasion, in which May-pole dances, May queens, Maid Marian, and Jack in the Green played prominent parts. As personification of heaven, Odin, of course, was the lover and spouse of the earth, and as to them the earth bore a threefold aspect, the Northmen depicted him as a polygamist, and allotted to him several wives. The first among these was Jörd (Erda), the primitive earth, daughter of Night or of the giantess Fiorgyn. She bore him his famous son Thor, the god of thunder. The second and principal wife was Frigga, a personification of the civilised world. She gave him Balder, the gentle god of spring, Hermod, and, according to some authorities, Tyr. The third wife was Rinda, a personification of the hard and frozen earth, who reluctantly yields to his warm embrace, but finally gives birth to Vali, the emblem of vegetation. Odin is also said to have married Saga or Laga, the goddess of history (hence our verb "to say"), and to have daily visited her in the crystal hall of Sokvabek, beneath a cool, ever-flowing river, to drink its waters and listen to her songs about olden times and vanished races. "Sokvabek hight the fourth dwelling; Over it flow the cool billows; Glad drink there Odin and Saga Every day from golden cups." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). His other wives were Grid, the mother of Vidar; Gunlod, the mother of Bragi; Skadi; and the nine giantesses who simultaneously bore Heimdall--all of whom play more or less important parts in the various myths of the North. The Historical Odin Besides this ancient Odin, there was a more modern, semi-historical personage of the same name, to whom all the virtues, powers, and adventures of his predecessor have been attributed. He was the chief of the Æsir, inhabitants of Asia Minor, who, sore pressed by the Romans, and threatened with destruction or slavery, left their native land about 70 B.C., and migrated into Europe. This Odin is said to have conquered Russia, Germany, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, leaving a son on the throne of each conquered country. He also built the town of Odensö. He was welcomed in Sweden by Gylfi, the king, who gave him a share of the realm, and allowed him to found the city of Sigtuna, where he built a temple and introduced a new system of worship. Tradition further relates that as his end drew near, this mythical Odin assembled his followers, publicly cut himself nine times in the breast with his spear,--a ceremony called "carving Geir odds,"--and told them he was about to return to his native land Asgard, his old home, where he would await their coming, to share with him a life of feasting, drinking, and fighting. According to another account, Gylfi, having heard of the power of the Æsir, the inhabitants of Asgard, and wishing to ascertain whether these reports were true, journeyed to the south. In due time he came to Odin's palace, where he was expected, and where he was deluded by the vision of Har, Iafn-har, and Thridi, three divinities, enthroned one above the other. The gatekeeper, Gangler, answered all his questions, and gave him a long explanation of Northern mythology, which is recorded in the Younger Edda, and then, having finished his instructions, suddenly vanished with the palace amid a deafening noise. According to other very ancient poems, Odin's sons, Weldegg, Beldegg, Sigi, Skiold, Sæming, and Yngvi, became kings of East Saxony, West Saxony, Franconia, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, and from them are descended the Saxons, Hengist and Horsa, and the royal families of the Northern lands. Still another version relates that Odin and Frigga had seven sons, who founded the Anglo-Saxon heptarchy. In the course of time this mysterious king was confounded with the Odin whose worship he introduced, and all his deeds were attributed to the god. Odin was worshipped in numerous temples, but especially in the great fane at Upsala, where the most solemn festivals were held, and where sacrifices were offered. The victim was generally a horse, but in times of pressing need human offerings were made, even the king being once offered up to avert a famine. "Upsal's temple, where the North Saw Valhal's halls fair imag'd here on earth." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). The first toast at every festival here was drunk in his honour, and, besides the first of May, one day in every week was held sacred to him, and, from his Saxon name, Woden, was called Woden's day, whence the English word "Wednesday" has been derived. It was customary for the people to assemble at his shrine on festive occasions, to hear the songs of the scalds, who were rewarded for their minstrelsy by the gift of golden bracelets or armlets, which curled up at the ends and were called "Odin's serpents." There are but few remains of ancient Northern art now extant, and although rude statues of Odin were once quite common they have all disappeared, as they were made of wood--a perishable substance, which in the hands of the missionaries, and especially of Olaf the Saint, the Northern iconoclast, was soon reduced to ashes. "There in the Temple, carved in wood, The image of great Odin stood." Saga of King Olaf (Longfellow). Odin himself is supposed to have given his people a code of laws whereby to govern their conduct, in a poem called Hávamál, or the High Song, which forms part of the Edda. In this lay he taught the fallibility of man, the necessity for courage, temperance, independence, and truthfulness, respect for old age, hospitality, charity, and contentment, and gave instructions for the burial of the dead. "At home let a man be cheerful, And toward a guest liberal; Of wise conduct he should be, Of good memory and ready speech; If much knowledge he desires, He must often talk on what is good." Hávamál (Thorpe's tr.). CHAPTER III: FRIGGA The Queen of the Gods Frigga, or Frigg, daughter of Fiorgyn and sister of Jörd, according to some mythologists, is considered by others as a daughter of Jörd and Odin, whom she eventually married. This wedding caused such general rejoicing in Asgard, where the goddess was greatly beloved, that ever after it was customary to celebrate its anniversary with feast and song, and the goddess being declared patroness of marriage, her health was always proposed with that of Odin and Thor at wedding feasts. Frigga was goddess of the atmosphere, or rather of the clouds, and as such was represented as wearing either snow-white or dark garments, according to her somewhat variable moods. She was queen of the gods, and she alone had the privilege of sitting on the throne Hlidskialf, beside her august husband. From thence she too could look over all the world and see what was happening, and, according to the belief of our ancestors, she possessed the knowledge of the future, which, however, no one could ever prevail upon her to reveal, thus proving that Northern women could keep a secret inviolate. "Of me the gods are sprung; And all that is to come I know, but lock In my own breast, and have to none reveal'd." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). She was generally represented as a tall, beautiful, and stately woman, crowned with heron plumes, the symbol of silence or forgetfulness, and clothed in pure white robes, secured at the waist by a golden girdle, from which hung a bunch of keys, the distinctive sign of the Northern housewife, whose special patroness she was said to be. Although she often appeared beside her husband, Frigga preferred to remain in her own palace, called Fensalir, the hall of mists or of the sea, where she diligently plied her wheel or distaff, spinning golden thread or weaving long webs of bright-coloured clouds. In order to perform this work she made use of a marvellous jewelled spinning wheel or distaff, which at night shone brightly in the sky as a constellation, known in the North as Frigga's Spinning Wheel, while the inhabitants of the South called the same stars Orion's Girdle. To her hall Fensalir the gracious goddess invited husbands and wives who had led virtuous lives on earth, so that they might enjoy each other's companionship even after death, and never be called upon to part again. "There in the glen, Fensalir stands, the house Of Frea, honour'd mother of the gods, And shows its lighted windows and the open doors." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Frigga was therefore considered the goddess of conjugal and motherly love, and was specially worshipped by married lovers and tender parents. This exalted office did not entirely absorb her thoughts however, for we are told that she was very fond of dress, and whenever she appeared before the assembled gods her attire was rich and becoming, and her jewels chosen with much taste. The Stolen Gold Frigga's love of adornment once led her sadly astray, for, in her longing to possess some new ornament, she secretly purloined a piece of gold from a statue representing her husband, which had just been placed in his temple. The stolen metal was entrusted to the dwarfs, with instructions to fashion a marvellous necklace for her use. This, when finished, was so resplendent that it greatly enhanced her charms, and even increased Odin's love for her. But when he discovered the theft of the gold he angrily summoned the dwarfs and bade them reveal who had dared to touch his statue. Unwilling to betray the queen of the gods, the dwarfs remained obstinately silent, and, seeing that no information could be elicited from them, Odin commanded that the statue should be placed above the temple gate, and set to work to devise runes which should endow it with the power of speech and enable it to denounce the thief. When Frigga heard these tidings she trembled with fear, and implored her favourite attendant, Fulla, to invent some means of protecting her from Allfather's wrath. Fulla, who was always ready to serve her mistress, immediately departed, and soon returned, accompanied by a hideous dwarf, who promised to prevent the statue from speaking if Frigga would only deign to smile graciously upon him. This boon having been granted, the dwarf hastened off to the temple, caused a deep sleep to fall upon the guards, and while they were thus unconscious, pulled the statue down from its pedestal and broke it to pieces, so that it could never betray Frigga's theft, in spite of all Odin's efforts to give it the power of speech. Odin, discovering this sacrilege on the morrow, was very angry indeed; so angry that he left Asgard and utterly disappeared, carrying away with him all the blessings which he had been wont to shower upon gods and men. According to some authorities, his brothers, as we have already seen, took advantage of his absence to assume his form and secure possession of his throne and wife; but although they looked exactly like him they could not restore the lost blessings, and allowed the ice-giants, or Jotuns, to invade the earth and bind it fast in their cold fetters. These wicked giants pinched the leaves and buds till they all shrivelled up, stripped the trees bare, shrouded the earth in a great white coverlet, and veiled it in impenetrable mists. But at the end of seven weary months the true Odin relented and returned, and when he saw all the evil that had been done he drove the usurpers away, forced the frost-giants to relax their grip of the earth and to release her from her icy bonds, and again showered all his blessings down upon her, cheering her with the light of his smile. Odin Outwitted As has already been seen, Odin, although god of wit and wisdom, was sometimes no match for his wife Frigga, who, womanlike, was sure to obtain her way by some means. On one occasion the august pair were seated upon Hlidskialf, gazing with interest upon the Winilers and Vandals, who were preparing for a battle which was to decide which people should henceforth have supremacy. Odin gazed with satisfaction upon the Vandals, who were loudly praying to him for victory; but Frigga watched the movements of the Winilers with more attention, because they had entreated her aid. She therefore turned to Odin and coaxingly inquired whom he meant to favour on the morrow; he, wishing to evade her question, declared he would not decide, as it was time for bed, but would give the victory to those upon whom his eyes first rested in the morning. This answer was shrewdly calculated, for Odin knew that his couch was so turned that upon waking he would face the Vandals, and he intended looking out from thence, instead of waiting until he had mounted his throne. But, although so cunningly contrived, this plan was frustrated by Frigga, who, divining his purpose, waited until he was sound asleep, and then noiselessly turned his couch so that he should face her favourites. Then she sent word to the Winilers to dress their women in armour and send them out in battle array at dawn, with their long hair carefully combed down over their cheeks and breasts. "Take thou thy women-folk, Maidens and wives: Over your ankles Lace on the white war-hose; Over your bosoms Link up the hard mail-nets; Over your lips Plait long tresses with cunning;-- So war beasts full-bearded King Odin shall deem you, When off the grey sea-beach At sunrise ye greet him." The Longbeards' Saga (Charles Kingsley). These instructions were carried out with scrupulous exactness, and when Odin awoke the next morning his first conscious glance fell upon their armed host, and he exclaimed in surprise, "What Longbeards are those?" (In German the ancient word for long beards was Langobarden, which was the name used to designate the Lombards.) Frigga, upon hearing this exclamation, which she had foreseen, immediately cried out in triumph that Allfather had given them a new name, and was in honour bound to follow the usual Northern custom and give also a baptismal gift. "'A name thou hast given them, Shames neither thee nor them, Well can they wear it. Give them the victory, First have they greeted thee; Give them the victory, Yoke-fellow mine!'" The Longbeards' Saga (Charles Kingsley). Odin, seeing he had been so cleverly outwitted, made no demur, and in memory of the victory which his favour vouchsafed to them the Winilers retained the name given by the king of the gods, who ever after watched over them with special care, giving them many blessings, among others a home in the sunny South, on the fruitful plains of Lombardy. Fulla Frigga had, as her own special attendants, a number of beautiful maidens, among whom were Fulla (Volla), her sister, according to some authorities, to whom she entrusted her jewel casket. Fulla always presided over her mistress's toilet, was privileged to put on her golden shoes, attended her everywhere, was her confidante, and often advised her how best to help the mortals who implored her aid. Fulla was very beautiful indeed, and had long golden hair, which she wore flowing loose over her shoulders, restrained only by a golden circlet or snood. As her hair was emblematic of the golden grain, this circlet represented the binding of the sheaf. Fulla was also known as Abundia, or Abundantia, in some parts of Germany, where she was considered the symbol of the fulness of the earth. Hlin, Frigga's second attendant, was the goddess of consolation, sent out to kiss away the tears of mourners and pour balm into hearts wrung by grief. She also listened with ever-open ears to the prayers of mortals, carrying them to her mistress, and advising her at times how best to answer them and give the desired relief. Gna Gna was Frigga's swift messenger. Mounted upon her fleet steed Hofvarpnir (hoof-thrower), she would travel with marvellous rapidity through fire and air, over land and sea, and was therefore considered the personification of the refreshing breeze. Darting thus to and fro, Gna saw all that was happening upon earth, and told her mistress all she knew. On one occasion, as she was passing over Hunaland, she saw King Rerir, a lineal descendant of Odin, sitting mournfully by the shore, bewailing his childlessness. The queen of heaven, who was also goddess of childbirth, upon hearing this took an apple (the emblem of fruitfulness) from her private store, gave it to Gna, and bade her carry it to the king. With the rapidity of the element she personified, Gna darted away, and as she passed over Rerir's head, she dropped her apple into his lap with a radiant smile. "'What flies up there, so quickly driving past?' Her answer from the clouds, as rushing by: 'I fly not, nor do drive, but hurry fast, Hoof-flinger swift through cloud and mist and sky.'" Asgard and the Gods (Wagner-Macdowall). The king pondered for a moment upon the meaning of this sudden apparition and gift, and then hurried home, his heart beating high with hope, and gave the apple to his wife to eat. In due season, to his intense joy, she bore him a son, Volsung, the great Northern hero, who became so famous that he gave his name to all his race. Lofn, Vjofn, and Syn Besides the three above mentioned, Frigga had other attendants in her train. There was the mild and gracious maiden Lofn (praise or love), whose duty it was to remove all obstacles from the path of lovers. "My lily tall, from her saddle bearing, I led then forth through the temple, faring To th' altar-circle where, priests among, Lofn's vows she took with unfalt'ring tongue." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). Vjofn's duty was to incline obdurate hearts to love, to maintain peace and concord among mankind, and to reconcile quarrelling husbands and wives. Syn (truth) guarded the door of Frigga's palace, refusing to open it to those who were not allowed to come in. When she had once shut the door upon a would-be intruder no appeal would avail to change her decision. She therefore presided over all tribunals and trials, and whenever a thing was to be vetoed the usual formula was to declare that Syn was against it. Gefjon Gefjon was also one of the maidens in Frigga's palace, and to her were entrusted all those who died unwedded, whom she received and made happy for ever. According to some authorities, Gefjon did not remain a virgin herself, but married one of the giants, by whom she had four sons. This same tradition goes on to declare that Odin sent her before him to visit Gylfi, King of Sweden, and to beg for some land which she might call her own. The king, amused at her request, promised her as much land as she could plough around in one day and night. Gefjon, nothing daunted, changed her four sons into oxen, harnessed them to a plough, and began to cut a furrow so wide and deep that the king and his courtiers were amazed. But Gefjon continued her work without showing any signs of fatigue, and when she had ploughed all around a large piece of land forcibly wrenched it away, and made her oxen drag it down into the sea, where she made it fast and called it Seeland. "Gefjon drew from Gylfi, Rich in stored up treasure, The land she joined to Denmark. Four heads and eight eyes bearing, While hot sweat trickled down them, The oxen dragged the reft mass That formed this winsome island." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). As for the hollow she left behind her, it was quickly filled with water and formed a lake, at first called Logrum (the sea), but now known as Mälar, whose every indentation corresponds with the headlands of Seeland. Gefjon then married Skiold, one of Odin's sons, and became the ancestress of the royal Danish race of Skioldungs, dwelling in the city of Hleidra or Lethra, which she founded, and which became the principal place of sacrifice for the heathen Danes. Eira, Vara, Vör and Snotra Eira, also Frigga's attendant, was considered a most skilful physician. She gathered simples all over the earth to cure both wounds and diseases, and it was her province to teach the science to women, who were the only ones to practise medicine among the ancient nations of the North. "Gaping wounds are bound by Eyra." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Vara heard all oaths and punished perjurers, while she rewarded those who faithfully kept their word. Then there were also Vör (faith), who knew all that was to occur throughout the world, and Snotra, goddess of virtue, who had mastered all knowledge. With such a galaxy of attendants it is little wonder that Frigga was considered a powerful deity; but in spite of the prominent place she occupied in Northern religion, she had no special temple nor shrine, and was but little worshipped except in company with Odin. Holda While Frigga was not known by this name in Southern Germany, there were other goddesses worshipped there, whose attributes were so exactly like hers, that they were evidently the same, although they bore very different names in the various provinces. Among them was the fair goddess Holda (Hulda or Frau Holle), who graciously dispensed many rich gifts. As she presided over the weather, the people were wont to declare when the snowflakes fell that Frau Holle was shaking her bed, and when it rained, that she was washing her clothes, often pointing to the white clouds as her linen which she had put out to bleach. When long grey strips of clouds drifted across the sky they said she was weaving, for she was supposed to be also a very diligent weaver, spinner, and housekeeper. It is said she gave flax to mankind and taught them how to use it, and in the Tyrol the following story is told about the way in which she bestowed this invaluable gift: The Discovery of Flax There was once a peasant who daily left his wife and children in the valley to take his sheep up the mountain to pasture; and as he watched his flock grazing on the mountain-side, he often had opportunity to use his cross-bow and bring down a chamois, whose flesh would furnish his larder with food for many a day. While pursuing a fine animal one day he saw it disappear behind a boulder, and when he came to the spot, he was amazed to see a doorway in the neighbouring glacier, for in the excitement of the pursuit he had climbed higher and higher, until he was now on top of the mountain, where glittered the everlasting snow. The shepherd boldly passed through the open door, and soon found himself in a wonderful jewelled cave hung with stalactites, in the centre of which stood a beautiful woman, clad in silvery robes, and attended by a host of lovely maidens crowned with Alpine roses. In his surprise, the shepherd sank to his knees, and as in a dream heard the queenly central figure bid him choose anything he saw to carry away with him. Although dazzled by the glow of the precious stones around him, the shepherd's eyes constantly reverted to a little nosegay of blue flowers which the gracious apparition held in her hand, and he now timidly proffered a request that it might become his. Smiling with pleasure, Holda, for it was she, gave it to him, telling him he had chosen wisely and would live as long as the flowers did not droop and fade. Then, giving the shepherd a measure of seed which she told him to sow in his field, the goddess bade him begone; and as the thunder pealed and the earth shook, the poor man found himself out upon the mountain-side once more, and slowly wended his way home to his wife, to whom he told his adventure and showed the lovely blue flowers and the measure of seed. The woman reproached her husband bitterly for not having brought some of the precious stones which he so glowingly described, instead of the blossoms and seed; nevertheless the man proceeded to sow the latter, and he found to his surprise that the measure supplied seed enough for several acres. Soon the little green shoots began to appear, and one moonlight night, while the peasant was gazing upon them, as was his wont, for he felt a curious attraction to the field which he had sown, and often lingered there wondering what kind of grain would be produced, he saw a misty form hover above the field, with hands outstretched as if in blessing. At last the field blossomed, and countless little blue flowers opened their calyxes to the golden sun. When the flowers had withered and the seed was ripe, Holda came once more to teach the peasant and his wife how to harvest the flax--for such it was--and from it to spin, weave, and bleach linen. As the people of the neighbourhood willingly purchased both linen and flax-seed, the peasant and his wife soon grew very rich indeed, and while he ploughed, sowed, and harvested, she spun, wove, and bleached the linen. The man lived to a good old age, and saw his grandchildren and great-grandchildren grow up around him. All this time his carefully treasured bouquet had remained fresh as when he first brought it home, but one day he saw that during the night the flowers had drooped and were dying. Knowing what this portended, and that he too must die, the peasant climbed the mountain once more to the glacier, and found again the doorway for which he had often vainly searched. He entered the icy portal, and was never seen or heard of again, for, according to the legend, the goddess took him under her care, and bade him live in her cave, where his every wish was gratified. Tannhäuser According to a mediæval tradition, Holda dwelt in a cave in the Hörselberg, in Thuringia, where she was known as Frau Venus, and was considered as an enchantress who lured mortals into her realm, where she detained them for ever, steeping their senses in all manner of sensual pleasures. The most famous of her victims was Tannhäuser, who, after he had lived under her spell for a season, experienced a revulsion of feeling which loosened her bonds over his spirit and induced anxious thoughts concerning his soul. He escaped from her power and hastened to Rome to confess his sins and seek absolution. But when the Pope heard of his association with one of the pagan goddesses whom the priests taught were nothing but demons, he declared that the knight could no more hope for pardon than to see his staff bear buds and bloom. "Hast thou within the nets of Satan lain? Hast thou thy soul to her perdition pledged? Hast thou thy lip to Hell's Enchantress lent, To drain damnation from her reeking cup? Then know that sooner from the withered staff That in my hand I hold green leaves shall spring, Than from the brand in hell-fire scorched rebloom The blossoms of salvation." Tannhäuser (Owen Meredith). Crushed with grief at this pronouncement, Tannhäuser fled, and, despite the entreaties of his faithful friend, Eckhardt, no great time elapsed ere he returned to the Hörselberg, where he vanished within the cave. He had no sooner disappeared, however, than the Pope's messengers arrived, proclaiming that he was pardoned, for the withered staff had miraculously bloomed, thus proving to all that there was no sin too heinous to be pardoned, providing repentance were sincere. "Dashed to the hip with travel, dewed with haste, A flying post, and in his hand he bore A withered staff o'erflourished with green leaves; Who,--followed by a crowd of youth and eld, That sang to stun with sound the lark in heaven, 'A miracle! a miracle from Rome! Glory to God that makes the bare bough green!'-- Sprang in the midst, and, hot for answer, asked News of the Knight Tannhäuser." Tannhäuser (Owen Meredith). Holda was also the owner of a magic fountain called Quickborn, which rivalled the famed fountain of youth, and of a chariot in which she rode from place to place when she inspected her domain. This vehicle having once suffered damage, the goddess bade a wheelwright repair it, and when he had finished told him to keep some chips as his pay. The man was indignant at such a meagre reward, and kept only a very few of the number; but to his surprise he found these on the morrow changed to gold. "Fricka, thy wife-- This way she reins her harness of rams. Hey! how she whirls The golden whip; The luckless beasts Unboundedly bleat; Her wheels wildly she rattles; Wrath is lit in her look." Wagner (Forman's tr.). Eástre, the Goddess of Spring The Saxon goddess Eástre, or Ostara, goddess of spring, whose name has survived in the English word Easter, is also identical with Frigga, for she too is considered goddess of the earth, or rather of Nature's resurrection after the long death of winter. This gracious goddess was so dearly loved by the old Teutons, that even after Christianity had been introduced they retained so pleasant a recollection of her, that they refused to have her degraded to the rank of a demon, like many of their other divinities, and transferred her name to their great Christian feast. It had long been customary to celebrate this day by the exchange of presents of coloured eggs, for the egg is the type of the beginning of life; so the early Christians continued to observe this rule, declaring, however, that the egg is also symbolical of the Resurrection. In various parts of Germany, stone altars can still be seen, which are known as Easter-stones, because they were dedicated to the fair goddess Ostara. They were crowned with flowers by the young people, who danced gaily around them by the light of great bonfires,--a species of popular games practised until the middle of the present century, in spite of the priests' denunciations and of the repeatedly published edicts against them. Bertha, the White Lady In other parts of Germany, Frigga, Holda, or Ostara is known by the name of Brechta, Bertha, or the White Lady. She is best known under this title in Thuringia, where she was supposed to dwell in a hollow mountain, keeping watch over the Heimchen, souls of unborn children, and of those who died unbaptized. Here Bertha watched over agriculture, caring for the plants, which her infant troop watered carefully, for each babe was supposed to carry a little jar for that express purpose. While the goddess was duly respected and her retreat unmolested, she remained where she was; but tradition relates that she once left the country with her infant train dragging her plough, and settled elsewhere to continue her kind ministrations. Bertha is the legendary ancestress of several noble families, and she is supposed to be the same as the industrious queen of the same name, the mythical mother of Charlemagne, whose era has become proverbial, for in speaking of the Golden Age in France and Germany it is customary to say, "in the days when Bertha spun." As this Bertha is supposed to have developed a very large and flat foot, from continually pressing the treadle of her wheel, she is often represented in mediæval art as a woman with a splay foot, and hence known as la reine pédauque. As ancestress of the imperial house of Germany, the White Lady is supposed to appear in the palace before a death or misfortune in the family, and this superstition is still so rife in Germany, that the newspapers in 1884 contained the official report of a sentinel, who declared that he had seen her flit past him in one of the palace corridors. As Bertha was renowned for her spinning, she naturally was regarded as the special patroness of that branch of female industry, and was said to flit through the streets of every village, at nightfall, during the twelve nights between Christmas and January 6, peering into every window to inspect the spinning of the household. The maidens whose work had been carefully performed were rewarded by a present of one of her own golden threads or a distaff full of extra fine flax; but wherever a careless spinner was found, her wheel was broken, her flax soiled, and if she had failed to honour the goddess by eating plenty of the cakes baked at that period of the year, she was cruelly punished. In Mecklenburg, this same goddess is known as Frau Gode, or Wode, the female form of Wuotan or Odin, and her appearance is always considered the harbinger of great prosperity. She is also supposed to be a great huntress, and to lead the Wild Hunt, mounted upon a white horse, her attendants being changed into hounds and all manner of wild beasts. In Holland she was called Vrou-elde, and from her the Milky Way is known by the Dutch as Vrou-elden-straat; while in parts of Northern Germany she was called Nerthus (Mother Earth). Her sacred car was kept on an island, presumably Rügen, where the priests guarded it carefully until she appeared to take a yearly journey throughout her realm to bless the land. The goddess, her face completely hidden by a thick veil, then sat in this car, which was drawn by two cows, and she was respectfully escorted by her priests. When she passed, the people did homage by ceasing all warfare, and laying aside their weapons. They donned festive attire, and began no quarrel until the goddess had again retired to her sanctuary. Then both car and goddess were bathed in a secret lake (the Schwartze See, in Rügen), which swallowed up the slaves who had assisted at the bathing, and once more the priests resumed their watch over the sanctuary and grove of Nerthus or Hlodyn, to await her next appearance. In Scandinavia, this goddess was also known as Huldra, and boasted of a train of attendant wood-nymphs, who sometimes sought the society of mortals, to enjoy a dance upon the village green. They could always be detected, however, by the tip of a cow's tail which trailed from beneath their long snow-white garments. These Huldra folk were the special protectors of the cattle on the mountain-sides, and were said to surprise the lonely traveller, at times, by the marvellous beauty of the melodies they sang to beguile the hours at their tasks. CHAPTER IV: THOR The Thunderer According to some mythologists, Thor, or Donar, is the son of Jörd (Erda) and of Odin, but others state that his mother was Frigga, queen of the gods. This child was very remarkable for his great size and strength, and very soon after his birth amazed the assembled gods by playfully lifting and throwing about ten great bales of bear skins. Although generally good-tempered, Thor would occasionally fly into a terrible rage, and as he was very dangerous at these times, his mother, unable to control him, sent him away from home and entrusted him to the care of Vingnir (the winged), and of Hlora (heat). These foster-parents, who are also considered as the personification of sheet-lightning, soon managed to control their troublesome charge, and brought him up so wisely, that the gods entertained a very grateful recollection of their kind offices. Thor himself, recognising all he owed them, assumed the names of Vingthor and Hlorridi, by which he is also known. "Cry on, Vingi-Thor, With the dancing of the ring-mail and the smitten shields of war." Sigurd the Volsung (William Morris). Having attained his full growth and the age of reason, Thor was admitted to Asgard among the other gods, where he occupied one of the twelve seats in the great judgment hall. He was also given the realm of Thrud-vang or Thrud-heim, where he built a wonderful palace called Bilskirnir (lightning), the most spacious in all Asgard. It contained five hundred and forty halls for the accommodation of the thralls, who after death were welcomed to his home, where they received equal treatment with their masters in Valhalla, for Thor was the patron god of the peasants and lower classes. "Five hundred halls And forty more, Methinketh, hath Bowed Bilskirnir. Of houses roofed There's none I know My son's surpassing." Sæmund's Edda (Percy's tr.). As he was god of thunder, Thor alone was never allowed to pass over the wonderful bridge Bifröst, lest he should set it aflame by the heat of his presence; and when he wished to join his fellow gods by the Urdar fountain, under the shade of the sacred tree Yggdrasil, he was forced to make his way thither on foot, wading through the rivers Kormt and Ormt, and the two streams Kerlaug, to the trysting place. Thor, who was honoured as the highest god in Norway, came second in the trilogy of all the other countries, and was called "old Thor," because he is supposed by some mythologists to have belonged to an older dynasty of gods, and not on account of his actual age, for he was represented and described as a man in his prime, tall and well formed, with muscular limbs and bristling red hair and beard, from which, in moments of anger, the sparks flew in showers. "First, Thor with the bent brow, In red beard muttering low, Darting fierce lightnings from eyeballs that glow, Comes, while each chariot wheel Echoes in thunder peal, As his dread hammer shock Makes Earth and Heaven rock, Clouds rifting above, while Earth quakes below." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The Northern races further adorned him with a crown, on each point of which was either a glittering star, or a steadily burning flame, so that his head was ever surrounded by a kind of halo of fire, his own element. Thor's Hammer Thor was the proud possessor of a magic hammer called Miölnir (the crusher) which he hurled at his enemies, the frost-giants, with destructive power, and which possessed the wonderful property of always returning to his hand, however far away he might hurl it. "I am the Thunderer! Here in my Northland, My fastness and fortress, Reign I forever! "Here amid icebergs Rule I the nations; This is my hammer, Miölnir the mighty; Giants and sorcerers Cannot withstand it!" Saga of King Olaf (Longfellow). As this huge hammer, the emblem of the thunderbolts, was generally red-hot, the god had an iron gauntlet called Iarn-greiper, which enabled him to grasp it firmly. He could hurl Miölnir a great distance, and his strength, which was always remarkable, was doubled when he wore his magic belt called Megin-giörd. "This is my girdle: Whenever I brace it, Strength is redoubled!" Saga of King Olaf (Longfellow). Thor's hammer was considered so very sacred by the ancient Northern people, that they were wont to make the sign of the hammer, as the Christians later taught them to make the sign of the cross, to ward off all evil influences, and to secure blessings. The same sign was also made over the newly born infant when water was poured over its head and a name given. The hammer was used to drive in boundary stakes, which it was considered sacrilegious to remove, to hallow the threshold of a new house, to solemnise a marriage, and, lastly, it played a part in the consecration of the funeral pyre upon which the bodies of heroes, together with their weapons and steeds, and, in some cases, with their wives and dependents, were burned. In Sweden, Thor, like Odin, was supposed to wear a broad-brimmed hat, and hence the storm-clouds in that country are known as Thor's hat, a name also given to one of the principal mountains in Norway. The rumble and roar of the thunder were said to be the roll of his chariot, for he alone among the gods never rode on horseback, but walked, or drove in a brazen chariot drawn by two goats, Tanngniostr (tooth-cracker), and Tanngrisnr (tooth-gnasher), from whose teeth and hoofs the sparks constantly flew. "Thou camest near the next, O warrior Thor! Shouldering thy hammer, in thy chariot drawn, Swaying the long-hair'd goats with silver'd rein." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). When the god thus drove from place to place, he was called Aku-thor, or Thor the charioteer, and in Southern Germany the people, fancying a brazen chariot alone inadequate to furnish all the noise they heard, declared it was loaded with copper kettles, which rattled and clashed, and therefore often called him, with disrespectful familiarity, the kettle-vendor. Thor's Family Thor was twice married; first to the giantess Iarnsaxa (iron stone), who bore him two sons, Magni (strength) and Modi (courage), both destined to survive their father and the twilight of the gods, and rule over the new world which was to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of the first. His second wife was Sif, the golden-haired, who also bore him two children, Lorride, and a daughter named Thrud, a young giantess renowned for her size and strength. True to the well-known affinity of contrast, Thrud was wooed by the dwarf Alvis, whom she rather favoured; and one evening, when this suitor, who, being a dwarf, could not face the light of day, presented himself in Asgard to sue for her hand, the assembled gods did not refuse their consent. They had scarcely signified their approbation, however, when Thor, who had been absent, suddenly appeared, and casting a glance of contempt upon the puny lover, declared he would have to prove that his knowledge atoned for his small stature, before he could win his bride. To test Alvis's mental powers, Thor then questioned him in the language of the gods, Vanas, elves, and dwarfs, artfully prolonging his examination until sunrise, when the first beam of light, falling upon the unhappy dwarf, petrified him. There he stood, an enduring example of the gods' power, to serve as a warning to all other dwarfs who might dare to test it. "Ne'er in human bosom Have I found so many Words of the old time. Thee with subtlest cunning Have I yet befooled. Above ground standeth thou, dwarf By day art overtaken, Bright sunshine fills the hall." Sæmund's Edda (Howitt's version). Sif, the Golden-haired Sif, Thor's wife, was very vain of a magnificent head of long golden hair which covered her from head to foot like a brilliant veil; and as she too was a symbol of the earth, her hair was said to represent the long grass, or the golden grain covering the Northern harvest fields. Thor was very proud of his wife's beautiful hair; imagine his dismay, therefore, upon waking one morning, to find her shorn, and as bald and denuded of ornament as the earth when the grain has been garnered, and nothing but the stubble remains! In his anger, Thor sprang to his feet, vowing he would punish the perpetrator of this outrage, whom he immediately and rightly conjectured to be Loki, the arch-plotter, ever on the look-out for some evil deed to perform. Seizing his hammer, Thor went in search of Loki, who attempted to evade the irate god by changing his form. But it was all to no purpose; Thor soon overtook him, and without more ado caught him by the throat, and almost strangled him ere he yielded to his imploring signs and relaxed his powerful grip. When he could draw his breath, Loki begged forgiveness, but all his entreaties were vain, until he promised to procure for Sif a new head of hair, as beautiful as the first, and as luxuriant in growth. "And thence for Sif new tresses I'll bring Of gold, ere the daylight's gone, So that she shall liken a field in spring, With its yellow-flowered garment on." The Dwarfs, Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). Then Thor consented to let the traitor go; so Loki rapidly crept down into the bowels of the earth, where Svart-alfa-heim was situated, to beg the dwarf Dvalin to fashion not only the precious hair, but a present for Odin and Frey, whose anger he wished to disarm. His request was favourably received and the dwarf fashioned the spear Gungnir, which never failed in its aim, and the ship Skidbladnir, which, always wafted by favourable winds, could sail through the air as well as on the water, and which had this further magic property, that although it could contain the gods and all their steeds, it could be folded up into the very smallest compass and thrust in one's pocket. Lastly, he spun the finest golden thread, from which he fashioned the hair required for Sif, declaring that as soon as it touched her head it would grow fast there and become as her own. "Though they now seem dead, let them touch but her head, Each hair shall the life-moisture fill; Nor shall malice nor spell henceforward prevail Sif's tresses to work aught of ill." The Dwarfs, Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). Loki was so pleased with these proofs of the dwarfs' skill that he declared the son of Ivald to be the most clever of smiths--words which were overheard by Brock, another dwarf, who exclaimed that he was sure his brother Sindri could produce three objects which would surpass those which Loki held, not only in intrinsic value, but also in magical properties. Loki immediately challenged the dwarf to show his skill, wagering his head against Brock's on the result of the undertaking. Sindri, apprised of the wager, accepted Brock's offer to blow the bellows, warning him, however, that he must work persistently and not for a moment relax his efforts if he wished him to succeed; then he threw some gold in the fire, and went out to bespeak the favour of the hidden powers. During his absence Brock diligently plied the bellows, while Loki, hoping to make him pause, changed himself into a gadfly and cruelly stung his hand. In spite of the pain, the dwarf kept on blowing, and when Sindri returned, he drew out of the fire an enormous wild boar, called Gullin-bursti, because of its golden bristles, which had the power of radiating light as it flitted across the sky, for it could travel through the air with marvellous velocity. "And now, strange to tell, from the roaring fire Came the golden-haired Gullinbörst, To serve as a charger the sun-god Frey, Sure, of all wild boars this the first." The Dwarfs, Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). This first piece of work successfully completed, Sindri flung some more gold on the fire and bade his brother resume blowing, while he again went out to secure magic assistance. This time Loki, still disguised as a gadfly, stung the dwarf on his cheek; but in spite of the pain Brock worked on, and when Sindri returned, he triumphantly drew out of the flames the magic ring Draupnir, the emblem of fertility, from which eight similar rings dropped every ninth night. "They worked it and turned it with wondrous skill, Till they gave it the virtue rare, That each thrice third night from its rim there fell Eight rings, as their parent fair." The Dwarfs, Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). Now a lump of iron was cast in the flames, and with renewed caution not to forfeit their success by inattention, Sindri passed out, leaving Brock to ply the bellows as before. Loki was now in desperation and he prepared for a final effort. This time, still in the guise of the gadfly, he stung the dwarf above the eye until the blood began to flow in such a stream, that it prevented his seeing what he was doing. Hastily raising his hand for a second, Brock dashed aside the stream of blood; but short as was the interruption it had worked irreparable harm, and when Sindri drew his work out of the fire he uttered an exclamation of disappointment for the hammer he had fashioned was short in the handle. "Then the dwarf raised his hand to his brow for the smart, Ere the iron well out was beat, And they found that the haft by an inch was too short, But to alter it then 'twas too late." The Dwarfs, Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). Notwithstanding this mishap, Brock was sure of winning the wager and he did not hesitate to present himself before the gods in Asgard, where he gave Odin the ring Draupnir, Frey the boar Gullin-bursti, and Thor the hammer Miölnir, whose power none could resist. Loki in turn gave the spear Gungnir to Odin, the ship Skidbladnir to Frey, and the golden hair to Thor; but although the latter immediately grew upon Sif's head and was unanimously declared more beautiful than her own locks had ever been, the gods decreed that Brock had won the wager, on the ground that the hammer Miölnir, in Thor's hands, would prove invaluable against the frost giants on the last day. "And at their head came Thor, Shouldering his hammer, which the giants know." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). In order to save his head, Loki fled precipitately, but was overtaken by Thor, who brought him back and handed him over to Brock, telling him, however, that although Loki's head was rightfully his, he must not touch his neck. Hindered from obtaining full vengeance, the dwarf determined to punish Loki by sewing his lips together, and as his sword would not pierce them, he borrowed his brother's awl for the purpose. However, Loki, after enduring the gods' gibes in silence for a little while, managed to cut the string and soon after was as loquacious as ever. In spite of his redoubtable hammer, Thor was not held in dread as the injurious god of the storm, who destroyed peaceful homesteads and ruined the harvest by sudden hail-storms and cloud-bursts. The Northmen fancied he hurled it only against ice giants and rocky walls, reducing the latter to powder to fertilise the earth and make it yield plentiful fruit to the tillers of the soil. In Germany, where the eastern storms are always cold and blighting, while the western bring warm rains and mild weather, Thor was supposed to journey always from west to east, to wage war against the evil spirits which would fain have enveloped the country in impenetrable veils of mist and have bound it in icy fetters. Thor's Journey to Jötun-heim As the giants from Jötun-heim were continually sending out cold blasts of wind to nip the tender buds and hinder the growth of the flowers, Thor once made up his mind to go and force them to behave better. Accompanied by Loki he set out in his chariot, and after riding for a whole day the gods came at nightfall to the confines of the giant-world, where, seeing a peasant's hut, they resolved to stay for rest and refreshment. Their host was hospitable but very poor, and Thor, seeing that he would scarcely be able to supply the necessary food to satisfy his by no means small appetite, slew both his goats, which he cooked and made ready to eat, inviting his host and family to partake freely of the food thus provided, but cautioning them to throw all the bones, without breaking them, into the skins of the goats which he had spread out on the floor. The peasant and his family ate heartily, but his son Thialfi, encouraged by mischievous Loki, ventured to break one of the bones and suck out the marrow, thinking his disobedience would not be detected. On the morrow, however, Thor, ready to depart, struck the goat skins with his hammer Miölnir, and immediately the goats sprang up as lively as before, except that one seemed somewhat lame. Perceiving that his commands had been disregarded, Thor would have slain the whole family in his wrath. The culprit acknowledged his fault, however, and the peasant offered to compensate for the loss by giving the irate god not only his son Thialfi, but also his daughter Roskva, to serve him for ever. Charging the man to take good care of the goats, which he left there until he should return, and bidding the young peasants accompany him, Thor now set out on foot with Loki, and after walking all day found himself at nightfall in a bleak and barren country, which was enveloped in an almost impenetrable grey mist. After seeking for some time, Thor saw through the fog the uncertain outline of what looked like a strangely-shaped house. Its open portal was so wide and high that it seemed to take up all one side of the house. Entering and finding neither fire nor light, Thor and his companions flung themselves wearily down on the floor to sleep, but were soon disturbed by a peculiar noise, and a prolonged trembling of the ground beneath them. Fearing lest the main roof should fall during this earthquake, Thor and his companions took refuge in a wing of the building, where they soon fell sound asleep. At dawn, the god and his companions passed out, but they had not gone very far ere they saw the recumbent form of a sleeping giant, and perceived that the peculiar sounds which had disturbed their rest were produced by his snores. At that moment the giant awoke, arose, stretched himself, looked about him for his missing property, and a second later picked up the object which Thor and his companions had mistaken in the darkness for a house. They then perceived with amazement that this was nothing more than a huge mitten, and that the wing in which they had all slept was the separate place for the giant's great thumb! Learning that Thor and his companions were on their way to Utgard, as the giants' realm was also called, Skrymir, the giant, proposed to be their guide; and after walking with them all day, he brought them at nightfall to a spot where he proposed to rest. Ere he composed himself for sleep, however, he offered them the provisions in his wallet. But, in spite of strenuous efforts, neither Thor nor his companions could unfasten the knots which Skrymir had tied. "Skrymir's thongs Seemed to thee hard, When at the food thou couldst not get, When, in full health, of hunger dying." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Utgard-loki Angry because of his snoring, which kept them awake, Thor thrice dealt him fearful blows with his hammer. These strokes, instead of annihilating the monster, merely evoked sleepy comments to the effect that a leaf, a bit of bark, or a twig from a bird's nest overhead had fallen upon his face. Early on the morrow, Skrymir left Thor and his companions, pointing out the shortest road to Utgard-loki's castle, which was built of great ice blocks, with huge glittering icicles as pillars. The gods, slipping between the bars of the great gate, presented themselves boldly before the king of the giants, Utgard-loki, who, recognising them, immediately pretended to be greatly surprised at their small size, and expressed a wish to see for himself what they could do, as he had often heard their prowess vaunted. Loki, who had fasted longer than he wished, immediately declared he was ready to eat for a wager with any one. So the king ordered a great wooden trough full of meat to be brought into the hall, and placing Loki at one end and his cook Logi at the other, he bade them see which would win. Although Loki did wonders, and soon reached the middle of the trough, he found that, whereas he had picked the bones clean, his opponent had devoured both them and the trough. Smiling contemptuously, Utgard-loki said that it was evident they could not do much in the eating line, and this so nettled Thor that he declared if Loki could not eat like the voracious cook, he felt confident he could drain the biggest vessel in the house, such was his unquenchable thirst. Immediately a horn was brought in, and, Utgard-loki declaring that good drinkers emptied it at one draught, moderately thirsty persons at two, and small drinkers at three, Thor applied his lips to the rim. But, although he drank so deep that he thought he would burst, the liquid still came almost up to the rim when he raised his head. A second and third attempt to empty this horn proved equally unsuccessful. Thialfi then offered to run a race, but a young fellow named Hugi, who was matched against him, soon outstripped him, although Thialfi ran remarkably fast. Thor proposed next to show his strength by lifting weights, and was challenged to pick up the giant's cat. Seizing an opportunity to tighten his belt Megin-giörd, which greatly enhanced his strength, he tugged and strained but was able only to raise one of its paws from the floor. "Strong is great Thor, no doubt, when Megingarder He braces tightly o'er his rock-firm loins." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). A last attempt on his part to wrestle with Utgard-loki's old nurse Elli, the only opponent deemed worthy of such a puny fellow, ended just as disastrously, and the gods, acknowledging they were beaten, were hospitably entertained. On the morrow they were escorted to the confines of Utgard, where the giant politely informed them that he hoped they would never call upon him again, as he had been forced to employ magic against them. He then went on to explain that he was the giant Skrymir, and that had he not taken the precaution to interpose a mountain between his head and Thor's blows, while he seemingly lay asleep, he would have been slain, as deep clefts in the mountain side, to which he pointed, testified to the god's strength. Next he informed them that Loki's opponent was Logi (wild fire); that Thialfi had run a race with Hugi (thought), than which no swifter runner exists; that Thor's drinking horn was connected with the ocean, where his deep draughts had produced a perceptible ebb; that the cat was in reality the terrible Midgard snake encircling the world, which Thor had nearly pulled out of the sea; and that Elli, his nurse, was old age, whom none can resist. Having finished these explanations and cautioned them never to return or he would defend himself by similar delusions, Utgard-loki vanished, and although Thor angrily brandished his hammer, and would have destroyed his castle, such a mist enveloped it that it could not be seen, and the thunder god was obliged to return to Thrud-vang without having administered his purposed salutary lesson to the race of giants. "The strong-armed Thor Full oft against Jotunheim did wend, But spite his belt celestial, spite his gauntlets, Utgard-Loki still his throne retains; Evil, itself a force, to force yields never." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). Thor and Hrungnir Odin himself was once dashing through the air on his eight-footed steed Sleipnir, when he attracted the attention of the giant Hrungnir, who proposed a race, declaring that Gullfaxi, his steed, could rival Sleipnir in speed. In the heat of the race, Hrungnir did not notice the direction in which they were going, until, in the vain hope of overtaking Odin, he urged his steed to the very gates of Valhalla. Discovering then where he was, the giant grew pale with fear, for he knew he had jeopardised his life by venturing into the stronghold of the gods, his hereditary foes. The Æsir, however, were too honourable to take even an enemy at a disadvantage, and, instead of doing him harm, they asked him into their banqueting-halls, where he proceeded to indulge in liberal potations of the heavenly mead set before him. He soon grew so excited that he began to boast of his power, declaring he would come some day and take possession of Asgard, which he would destroy, together with the gods, save only Freya and Sif, upon whom he gazed with an admiring leer. The gods, knowing he was not responsible, let him talk unmolested; but Thor, coming home just then from one of his journeys, and hearing his threat to carry away the beloved Sif, flew into a terrible rage. He furiously brandished his hammer, with intent to annihilate the boaster. This the gods would not permit, however, and they quickly threw themselves between the irate Thunderer and their guest, imploring Thor to respect the sacred rights of hospitality, and not to desecrate their peace-stead by shedding blood. Thor was at last induced to bridle his wrath, but he demanded that Hrungnir should appoint a time and place for a holmgang, as a Northern duel was generally called. Thus challenged, Hrungnir promised to meet Thor at Griottunagard, the confines of his realm, three days later, and departed somewhat sobered by the fright he had experienced. When his fellow giants heard how rash he had been, they chided him sorely; but they took counsel together in order to make the best of a bad situation. Hrungnir told them that he was to have the privilege of being accompanied by a squire, whom Thialfi would engage in fight, wherefore they proceeded to construct a creature of clay, nine miles long, and proportionately wide, whom they called Mokerkialfi (mist wader). As they could find no human heart big enough to put in this monster's breast, they secured that of a mare, which, however, kept fluttering and quivering with apprehension. The day of the duel arrived. Hrungnir and his squire were on the ground awaiting the arrival of their respective opponents. The giant had not only a flint heart and skull, but also a shield and club of the same substance, and therefore deemed himself well-nigh invincible. Thialfi came before his master and soon after there was a terrible rumbling and shaking which made the giant apprehensive that his enemy would come up through the ground and attack him from underneath. He therefore followed a hint from Thialfi and stood upon his shield. A moment later, however, he saw his mistake, for, while Thialfi attacked Mokerkialfi with a spade, Thor came with a rush upon the scene and flung his hammer full at his opponent's head. Hrungnir, to ward off the blow, interposed his stone club, which was shivered into pieces that flew all over the earth, supplying all the flint stones thereafter to be found, and one fragment sank deep into Thor's forehead. As the god dropped fainting to the ground, his hammer crashed against the head of Hrungnir, who fell dead beside him, in such a position that one of his ponderous legs was thrown over the recumbent god. "Thou now remindest me How I with Hrungnir fought, That stout-hearted Jotun, Whose head was all of stone; Yet I made him fall And sink before me." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Thialfi, who, in the meanwhile, had disposed of the great clay giant with its cowardly mare's heart, now rushed to his master's assistance, but his efforts were unavailing, nor could the other gods, whom he quickly summoned, raise the pinioning leg. While they were standing there, helplessly wondering what they should do next, Thor's little son Magni came up. According to varying accounts, he was then only three days or three years old, but he quickly seized the giant's foot, and, unaided, set his father free, declaring that had he only been summoned sooner he would easily have disposed of both giant and squire. This exhibition of strength made the gods marvel greatly, and helped them to recognise the truth of the various predictions, which one and all declared that their descendants would be mightier than they, would survive them, and would rule in their turn over the new heaven and earth. To reward his son for his timely aid, Thor gave him the steed Gullfaxi (golden-maned), to which he had fallen heir by right of conquest, and Magni ever after rode this marvellous horse, which almost equalled the renowned Sleipnir in speed and endurance. Groa, the Sorceress After vainly trying to remove the stone splinter from his forehead, Thor sadly returned home to Thrud-vang, where Sif's loving efforts were equally unsuccessful. She therefore resolved to send for Groa (green-making), a sorceress, noted for her skill in medicine and for the efficacy of her spells and incantations. Groa immediately signified her readiness to render every service in her power to the god who had so often benefited her, and solemnly began to recite powerful runes, under whose influence Thor felt the stone grow looser and looser. His delight at the prospect of a speedy deliverance made Thor wish to reward the enchantress forthwith, and knowing that nothing could give greater pleasure to a mother than the prospect of seeing a long-lost child, he proceeded to tell her that he had recently crossed the Elivagar, or ice streams, to rescue her little son Orvandil (germ) from the frost giants' cruel power, and had succeeded in carrying him off in a basket. But, as the little rogue would persist in sticking one of his bare toes through a hole in the basket, it had been frost-bitten, and Thor, accidentally breaking it off, had flung it up into the sky, to shine as a star, known in the North as "Orvandil's Toe." Delighted with these tidings, the prophetess paused in her incantations to express her joy, but, having forgotten just where she left off, she was unable to continue her spell, and the flint stone remained embedded in Thor's forehead, whence it could never be dislodged. Of course, as Thor's hammer always did him such good service, it was the most prized of all his possessions, and his dismay was very great when he awoke one morning and found it gone. His cry of anger and disappointment soon brought Loki to his side, and to him Thor confided the secret of his loss, declaring that were the giants to hear of it, they would soon attempt to storm Asgard and destroy the gods. "Wroth waxed Thor, when his sleep was flown, And he found his trusty hammer gone; He smote his brow, his beard he shook, The son of earth 'gan round him look; And this the first word that he spoke: 'Now listen what I tell thee, Loke; Which neither on earth below is known, Nor in heaven above: my hammer's gone." Thrym's Quida (Herbert's tr.). Thor and Thrym Loki declared he would try to discover the thief and recover the hammer, if Freya would lend him her falcon plumes, and he immediately hastened off to Folkvang to borrow them. His errand was successful and in the form of a bird he then winged his flight across the river Ifing, and over the barren stretches of Jötun-heim, where he suspected that the thief would be found. There he saw Thrym, prince of the frost giants and god of the destructive thunder-storm, sitting alone on a hill-side. Artfully questioning him, he soon learned that Thrym had stolen the hammer and had buried it deep underground. Moreover, he found that there was little hope of its being restored unless Freya were brought to him arrayed as a bride. "I have the Thunderer's hammer bound Fathoms eight beneath the ground; With it shall no one homeward tread Till he bring me Freya to share my bed." Thrym's Quida (Herbert's tr.). Indignant at the giant's presumption, Loki returned to Thrud-vang, but Thor declared it would be well to visit Freya and try to prevail upon her to sacrifice herself for the general good. But when the Æsir told the goddess of beauty what they wished her to do, she flew into such a passion that even her necklace burst. She told them that she would never leave her beloved husband for any god, much less to marry a detested giant and dwell in Jötun-heim, where all was dreary in the extreme, and where she would soon die of longing for the green fields and flowery meadows, in which she loved to roam. Seeing that further persuasions would be useless, Loki and Thor returned home and there deliberated upon another plan for recovering the hammer. By Heimdall's advice, which, however, was only accepted with extreme reluctance, Thor borrowed and put on Freya's clothes together with her necklace, and enveloped himself in a thick veil. Loki, having attired himself as handmaiden, then mounted with him in the goat-drawn chariot, and the strangely attired pair set out for Jötun-heim, where they intended to play the respective parts of the goddess of beauty and her attendant. "Home were driven Then the goats, And hitched to the car; Hasten they must-- The mountains crashed, The earth stood in flames: Odin's son Rode to Jötun-heim." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Thrym welcomed his guests at the palace door, overjoyed at the thought that he was about to secure undisputed possession of the goddess of beauty, for whom he had long sighed in vain. He quickly led them to the banqueting-hall, where Thor, the bride elect, distinguished himself by eating an ox, eight huge salmon, and all the cakes and sweets provided for the women, washing down these miscellaneous viands with the contents of two barrels of mead. The giant bridegroom watched these gastronomic feats with amazement, whereupon Loki, in order to reassure him, confidentially whispered that the bride was so deeply in love with him that she had not been able to taste a morsel of food for more than eight days. Thrym then sought to kiss the bride, but drew back appalled at the fire of her glance, which Loki explained as a burning glance of love. The giant's sister, claiming the usual gifts, was not even noticed; wherefore Loki again whispered to the wondering Thrym that love makes people absent-minded. Intoxicated with passion and mead, which he, too, had drunk in liberal quantities, the bridegroom now bade his servants produce the sacred hammer to consecrate the marriage, and as soon as it was brought he himself laid it in the pretended Freya's lap. The next moment a powerful hand closed over the short handle, and soon the giant, his sister, and all the invited guests, were slain by the terrible Thor. "'Bear in the hammer to plight the maid; Upon her lap the bruiser lay, And firmly plight our hands and fay.' The Thunderer's soul smiled in his breast; When the hammer hard on his lap was placed, Thrym first, the king of the Thursi, he slew, And slaughtered all the giant crew." Thrym's Quida (Herbert's tr.). Leaving a smoking heap of ruins behind them, the gods then drove rapidly back to Asgard, where the borrowed garments were given back to Freya, much to the relief of Thor, and the Æsir rejoiced at the recovery of the precious hammer. When next Odin gazed upon that part of Jötun-heim from his throne Hlidskialf, he saw the ruins covered with tender green shoots, for Thor, having conquered his enemy, had taken possession of his land, which henceforth would no longer remain barren and desolate, but would bring forth fruit in abundance. Thor and Geirrod Loki once borrowed Freya's falcon-garb and flew off in search of adventures to another part of Jötun-heim, where he perched on top of the gables of Geirrod's house. He soon attracted the attention of this giant, who bade one of his servants catch the bird. Amused at the fellow's clumsy attempts to secure him, Loki flitted about from place to place, only moving just as the giant was about to lay hands upon him, when, miscalculating his distance, he suddenly found himself a captive. Attracted by the bird's bright eyes, Geirrod looked closely at it and concluded that it was a god in disguise, and finding that he could not force him to speak, he locked him in a cage, where he kept him for three whole months without food or drink. Conquered at last by hunger and thirst, Loki revealed his identity, and obtained his release by promising that he would induce Thor to visit Geirrod without his hammer, belt, or magic gauntlet. Loki then flew back to Asgard, and told Thor that he had been royally entertained, and that his host had expressed a strong desire to see the powerful thunder-god, of whom he had heard such wonderful tales. Flattered by this artful speech, Thor was induced to consent to a friendly journey to Jötun-heim, and the two gods set out, leaving the three marvellous weapons at home. They had not gone far, however, ere they came to the house of the giantess Grid, one of Odin's many wives. Seeing Thor unarmed, she warned him to beware of treachery and lent him her own girdle, staff, and glove. Some time after leaving her, Thor and Loki came to the river Veimer, which the Thunderer, accustomed to wading, prepared to ford, bidding Loki and Thialfi cling fast to his belt. In the middle of the stream, however, a sudden cloud-burst and freshet overtook them; the waters began to rise and roar, and although Thor leaned heavily upon his staff, he was almost swept away by the force of the raging current. "Wax not, Veimer, Since to wade I desire To the realm of the giants! Know, if thou waxest, Then waxes my asa-might As high as the heavens." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Thor now became aware of the presence, up stream, of Geirrod's daughter Gialp, and rightly suspecting that she was the cause of the storm, he picked up a huge boulder and flung it at her, muttering that the best place to dam a river was at its source. The missile had the desired effect, for the giantess fled, the waters abated, and Thor, exhausted but safe, pulled himself up on the opposite bank by a little shrub, the mountain-ash or sorb. This has since been known as "Thor's salvation," and occult powers have been attributed to it. After resting awhile Thor and his companions resumed their journey; but upon arriving at Geirrod's house the god was so exhausted that he sank wearily upon the only chair in sight. To his surprise, however, he felt it rising beneath him, and fearful lest he should be crushed against the rafters, he pushed the borrowed staff against the ceiling and forced the chair downward with all his might. Then followed a terrible cracking, sudden cries, and moans of pain; and when Thor came to investigate, it appeared that the giant's daughters, Gialp and Greip, had slipped under his chair with intent treacherously to slay him, and they had reaped a righteous retribution and both lay crushed to death. "Once I employed My asa-might In the realm of giants, When Gialp and Greip, Geirrod's daughters, Wanted to lift me to heaven." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Geirrod now appeared and challenged Thor to a test of strength and skill, but without waiting for a preconcerted signal, he flung a red-hot wedge at him. Thor, quick of eye and a practised catcher, caught the missile with the giantess's iron glove, and hurled it back at his opponent. Such was the force of the god, that the missile passed, not only through the pillar behind which the giant had taken refuge, but through him and the wall of the house, and buried itself deep in the earth without. Thor then strode up to the giant's corpse, which at the blow from his weapon had been petrified into stone, and set it up in a conspicuous place, as a monument of his strength and of the victory he had won over his redoubtable foes, the mountain giants. The Worship of Thor Thor's name has been given to many of the places he was wont to frequent, such as the principal harbour of the Faroe Islands, and to families which claim to be descended from him. It is still extant in such names as Thunderhill in Surrey, and in the family names of Thorburn and Thorwaldsen, but is most conspicuous in the name of one of the days of the week, Thor's day or Thursday. "Over the whole earth Still is it Thor's day!" Saga of King Olaf (Longfellow). Thor was considered a pre-eminently benevolent deity, and it was for that reason that he was so widely worshipped and that temples to his worship arose at Moeri, Hlader, Godey, Gothland, Upsala, and other places, where the people never failed to invoke him for a favourable year at Yule-tide, his principal festival. It was customary on this occasion to burn a great log of oak, his sacred tree, as an emblem of the warmth and light of summer, which would drive away the darkness and cold of winter. Brides invariably wore red, Thor's favourite colour, which was considered emblematical of love, and for the same reason betrothal rings in the North were almost always set with a red stone. Thor's temples and statues, like Odin's, were fashioned of wood, and the greater number of them were destroyed during the reign of King Olaf the Saint. According to ancient chronicles, this monarch forcibly converted his subjects. He was specially incensed against the inhabitants of a certain province, because they worshipped a rude image of Thor, which they decked with golden ornaments, and before which they set food every evening, declaring the god ate it, as no trace of it was left in the morning. The people, being called upon in 1030 to renounce this idol in favour of the true God, promised to consent if the morrow were cloudy; but when after a whole night spent by Olaf in ardent prayer, there followed a cloudy day, the obstinate people declared they were not yet convinced of his God's power, and would only believe if the sun shone on the next day. Once more Olaf spent the night in prayer, but at dawn, to his great chagrin, the sky was overcast. Nevertheless, he assembled the people near Thor's statue, and after secretly bidding his principal attendant to smash the idol with his battle-axe if the people turned their eyes away but for a moment, he began to address them. Suddenly, while all were listening to him, Olaf pointed to the horizon, where the sun was slowly breaking its way through the clouds, and exclaimed, "Behold our God!" The people one and all turned to see what he meant, and the attendant seized this opportunity for attacking the idol, which yielded easily to his blows, and a host of mice and other vermin scattered hastily from its hollow interior. Seeing now that the food placed before their god had been devoured by noxious animals only, the people ceased to revere Thor, and definitely accepted the faith which King Olaf had so long and vainly pressed upon them. CHAPTER V: TYR The God of War Tyr Tiu, or Ziu was the son of Odin, and, according to different mythologists, his mother was Frigga, queen of the gods, or a beautiful giantess whose name is unknown, but who was a personification of the raging sea. He is the god of martial honour, and one of the twelve principal deities of Asgard. Although he appears to have had no special dwelling there, he was always welcome to Vingolf or Valhalla, and occupied one of the twelve thrones in the great council hall of Glads-heim. "The hall Glads-heim, which is built of gold; Where are in circle, ranged twelve golden chairs, And in the midst one higher, Odin's Throne." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). As the God of courage and of war, Tyr was frequently invoked by the various nations of the North, who cried to him, as well as to Odin, to obtain victory. That he ranked next to Odin and Thor is proved by his name, Tiu, having been given to one of the days of the week, Tiu's day, which in modern English has become Tuesday. Under the name of Ziu, Tyr was the principal divinity of the Suabians, who originally called their capital, the modern Augsburg, Ziusburg. This people, venerating the god as they did, were wont to worship him under the emblem of a sword, his distinctive attribute, and in his honour held great sword dances, where various figures were performed. Sometimes the participants forming two long lines, crossed their swords, point upward, and challenged the boldest among their number to take a flying leap over them. At other times the warriors joined their sword points closely together in the shape of a rose or wheel, and when this figure was complete invited their chief to stand on the navel thus formed of flat, shining steel blades, and then they bore him upon it through the camp in triumph. The sword point was further considered so sacred that it became customary to register oaths upon it. "... Come hither, gentlemen, And lay your hands again upon my sword; Never to speak of this that you have heard, Swear by my sword." Hamlet (Shakespeare). A distinctive feature of the worship of this god among the Franks and some other Northern nations was that the priests called Druids or Godi offered up human sacrifices upon his altars, generally cutting the bloody- or spread-eagle upon their victims, that is to say, making a deep incision on either side of the back-bone, turning the ribs thus loosened inside out, and tearing out the viscera through the opening thus made. Of course only prisoners of war were treated thus, and it was considered a point of honour with north European races to endure this torture without a moan. These sacrifices were made upon rude stone altars called dolmens, which can still be seen in Northern Europe. As Tyr was considered the patron god of the sword, it was deemed indispensable to engrave the sign or rune representing him upon the blade of every sword--an observance which the Edda enjoined upon all those who were desirous of obtaining victory. "Sig-runes thou must know, If victory (sigr) thou wilt have, And on thy sword's hilt rist them; Some on the chapes, Some on the guard, And twice name the name of Tyr." Lay of Sigdrifa (Thorpe's tr.). Tyr was identical with the Saxon god Saxnot (from sax, a sword), and with Er, Heru, or Cheru, the chief divinity of the Cheruski, who also considered him god of the sun, and deemed his shining sword blade an emblem of its rays. "This very sword a ray of light Snatched from the Sun!" Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Tyr's Sword According to an ancient legend, Cheru's sword, which had been fashioned by the same dwarfs, sons of Ivald, who had also made Odin's spear, was held very sacred by his people, to whose care he had entrusted it, declaring that those who possessed it were sure to have the victory over their foes. But although carefully guarded in the temple, where it was hung so that it reflected the first beams of the morning sun, it suddenly and mysteriously disappeared one night. A Vala, druidess, or prophetess, consulted by the priests, revealed that the Norns had decreed that whoever wielded it would conquer the world and come to his death by it; but in spite of all entreaties she refused to tell who had taken it or where it might be found. Some time after this occurrence a tall and dignified stranger came to Cologne, where Vitellius, the Roman prefect, was feasting, and called him away from his beloved dainties. In the presence of the Roman soldiery he gave him the sword, telling him it would bring him glory and renown, and finally hailed him as emperor. The cry was taken up by the assembled legions, and Vitellius, without making any personal effort to secure the honour, found himself elected Emperor of Rome. The new ruler, however, was so absorbed in indulging his taste for food and drink that he paid but little heed to the divine weapon. One day while leisurely making his way towards Rome he carelessly left it hanging in the antechamber to his pavilion. A German soldier seized this opportunity to substitute in its stead his own rusty blade, and the besotted emperor did not notice the exchange. When he arrived at Rome, he learned that the Eastern legions had named Vespasian emperor, and that he was even then on his way home to claim the throne. Searching for the sacred weapon to defend his rights, Vitellius now discovered the theft, and, overcome by superstitious fears, did not even attempt to fight. He crawled away into a dark corner of his palace, whence he was ignominiously dragged by the enraged populace to the foot of the Capitoline Hill. There the prophecy was duly fulfilled, for the German soldier, who had joined the opposite faction, coming along at that moment, cut off Vitellius' head with the sacred sword. The German soldier now changed from one legion to another, and travelled over many lands; but wherever he and his sword were found, victory was assured. After winning great honour and distinction, this man, having grown old, retired from active service to the banks of the Danube, where he secretly buried his treasured weapon, building his hut over its resting-place to guard it as long as he might live. When he lay on his deathbed he was implored to reveal where he had hidden it, but he persistently refused to do so, saying that it would be found by the man who was destined to conquer the world, but that he would not be able to escape the curse. Years passed by. Wave after wave the tide of barbarian invasion swept over that part of the country, and last of all came the terrible Huns under the leadership of Attila, the "Scourge of God." As he passed along the river, he saw a peasant mournfully examining his cow's foot, which had been wounded by some sharp instrument hidden in the long grass, and when search was made the point of a buried sword was found sticking out of the soil. Attila, seeing the beautiful workmanship and the fine state of preservation of this weapon, immediately exclaimed that it was Cheru's sword, and brandishing it above his head he announced that he would conquer the world. Battle after battle was fought by the Huns, who, according to the Saga, were everywhere victorious, until Attila, weary of warfare, settled down in Hungary, taking to wife the beautiful Burgundian princess Ildico, whose father he had slain. This princess, resenting the murder of her kin and wishing to avenge it, took advantage of the king's state of intoxication upon his wedding night to secure possession of the divine sword, with which she slew him in his bed, once more fulfilling the prophecy uttered so many years before. The magic sword again disappeared for a long time, to be unearthed once more, for the last time, by the Duke of Alva, Charles V.'s general, who shortly after won the victory of Mühlberg (1547). The Franks were wont to celebrate yearly martial games in honour of the sword; but it is said that when the heathen gods were renounced in favour of Christianity, the priests transferred many of their attributes to the saints, and that this sword became the property of the Archangel St. Michael, who has wielded it ever since. Tyr, whose name was synonymous with bravery and wisdom, was also considered by the ancient Northern people to have the white-armed Valkyrs, Odin's attendants, at his command, and they thought that he it was who designated the warriors whom they should transfer to Valhalla to aid the gods on the last day. "The god Tyr sent Gondul and Skogul To choose a king Of the race of Ingve, To dwell with Odin In roomy Valhal." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). The Story of Fenris Tyr was generally spoken of and represented as one-armed, just as Odin was called one-eyed. Various explanations are offered by different authorities; some claim that it was because he could give the victory only to one side; others, because a sword has but one blade. However this may be, the ancients preferred to account for the fact in the following way: Loki married secretly at Jötun-heim the hideous giantess Angur-boda (anguish boding), who bore him three monstrous children--the wolf Fenris, Hel, the parti-coloured goddess of death, and Iörmungandr, a terrible serpent. He kept the existence of these monsters secret as long as he could; but they speedily grew so large that they could no longer remain confined in the cave where they had come to light. Odin, from his throne Hlidskialf, soon became aware of their existence, and also of the disquieting rapidity with which they increased in size. Fearful lest the monsters, when they had gained further strength, should invade Asgard and destroy the gods, Allfather determined to get rid of them, and striding off to Jötun-heim, he flung Hel into the depths of Nifl-heim, telling her she could reign over the nine dismal worlds of the dead. He then cast Iörmungandr into the sea, where he attained such immense proportions that at last he encircled the earth and could bite his own tail. "Into mid-ocean's dark depths hurled, Grown with each day to giant size, The serpent soon inclosed the world, With tail in mouth, in circle-wise; Held harmless still By Odin's will." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). None too well pleased that the serpent should attain such fearful dimensions in his new element, Odin resolved to lead Fenris to Asgard, where he hoped, by kindly treatment, to make him gentle and tractable. But the gods one and all shrank in dismay when they saw the wolf, and none dared approach to give him food except Tyr, whom nothing daunted. Seeing that Fenris daily increased in size, strength, voracity, and fierceness, the gods assembled in council to deliberate how they might best dispose of him. They unanimously decided that as it would desecrate their peace-steads to slay him, they would bind him fast so that he could work them no harm. With that purpose in view, they obtained a strong chain named Læding, and then playfully proposed to Fenris to bind this about him as a test of his vaunted strength. Confident in his ability to release himself, Fenris patiently allowed them to bind him fast, and when all stood aside, with a mighty effort he stretched himself and easily burst the chain asunder. Concealing their chagrin, the gods were loud in praise of his strength, but they next produced a much stronger fetter, Droma, which, after some persuasion, the wolf allowed them to fasten around him as before. Again a short, sharp struggle sufficed to burst this bond, and it is proverbial in the North to use the figurative expressions, "to get loose out of Læding," and "to dash out of Droma," whenever great difficulties have to be surmounted. "Twice did the Æsir strive to bind, Twice did they fetters powerless find; Iron or brass of no avail, Naught, save through magic, could prevail." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The gods, perceiving now that ordinary bonds, however strong, would never prevail against the Fenris wolf's great strength, bade Skirnir, Frey's servant, go down to Svart-alfa-heim and bid the dwarfs fashion a bond which nothing could sever. By magic arts the dark elves manufactured a slender silken rope from such impalpable materials as the sound of a cat's footsteps, a woman's beard, the roots of a mountain, the longings of the bear, the voice of fishes, and the spittle of birds, and when it was finished they gave it to Skirnir, assuring him that no strength would avail to break it, and that the more it was strained the stronger it would become. "Gleipnir, at last, By Dark Elves cast, In Svart-alf-heim, with strong spells wrought, To Odin was by Skirnir brought: As soft as silk, as light as air, Yet still of magic power most rare." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Armed with this bond, called Gleipnir, the gods went with Fenris to the Island of Lyngvi, in the middle of Lake Amsvartnir, and again proposed to test his strength. But although Fenris had grown still stronger, he mistrusted the bond which looked so slight. He therefore refused to allow himself to be bound, unless one of the Æsir would consent to put his hand in his mouth, and leave it there, as a pledge of good faith, and that no magic arts were to be used against him. The gods heard the decision with dismay, and all drew back except Tyr, who, seeing that the others would not venture to comply with this condition, boldly stepped forward and thrust his hand between the monster's jaws. The gods now fastened Gleipnir securely around Fenris's neck and paws, and when they saw that his utmost efforts to free himself were fruitless, they shouted and laughed with glee. Tyr, however, could not share their joy, for the wolf, finding himself captive, bit off the god's hand at the wrist, which since then has been known as the wolf's joint. Loki. "Be silent, Tyr! Thou couldst never settle A strife 'twixt two; Of thy right hand also I must mention make, Which Fenris from thee took. Tyr. I of a hand am wanting, But thou of honest fame; Sad is the lack of either. Nor is the wolf at ease: He in bonds must abide Until the gods' destruction." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Deprived of his right hand, Tyr was now forced to use the maimed arm for his shield, and to wield his sword with his left hand; but such was his dexterity that he slew his enemies as before. The gods, in spite of the wolf's struggles, drew the end of the fetter Gelgia through the rock Gioll, and fastened it to the boulder Thviti, which was sunk deep in the ground. Opening wide his fearful jaws, Fenris uttered such terrible howls that the gods, to silence him, thrust a sword into his mouth, the hilt resting upon his lower jaw and the point against his palate. The blood then began to pour out in such streams that it formed a great river, called Von. The wolf was destined to remain thus chained fast until the last day, when he would burst his bonds and would be free to avenge his wrongs. "The wolf Fenrir, Freed from the chain, Shall range the earth." Death-song of Hâkon (W. Taylor's tr.). While some mythologists see in this myth an emblem of crime restrained and made innocuous by the power of the law, others see the underground fire, which kept within bounds can injure no one, but which unfettered fills the world with destruction and woe. Just as Odin's second eye is said to rest in Mimir's well, so Tyr's second hand (sword) is found in Fenris's jaws. He has no more use for two weapons than the sky for two suns. The worship of Tyr is commemorated in sundry places (such as Tübingen, in Germany), which bear more or less modified forms of his name. The name has also been given to the aconite, a plant known in Northern countries as "Tyr's helm." CHAPTER VI: BRAGI The Origin of Poetry At the time of the dispute between the Æsir and Vanas, when peace had been agreed upon, a vase was brought into the assembly into which both parties solemnly spat. From this saliva the gods created Kvasir, a being renowned for his wisdom and goodness, who went about the world answering all questions asked him, thus teaching and benefiting mankind. The dwarfs, hearing about Kvasir's great wisdom, coveted it, and finding him asleep one day, two of their number, Fialar and Galar, treacherously slew him, and drained every drop of his blood into three vessels--the kettle Od-hroerir (inspiration) and the bowls Son (expiation) and Boden (offering). After duly mixing this blood with honey, they manufactured from it a sort of beverage so inspiring that any one who tasted it immediately became a poet, and could sing with a charm which was certain to win all hearts. Now, although the dwarfs had brewed this marvellous mead for their own consumption, they did not even taste it, but hid it away in a secret place, while they went in search of further adventures. They had not gone very far ere they found the giant Gilling also sound asleep, lying on a steep bank, and they maliciously rolled him into the water, where he perished. Then hastening to his dwelling, some climbed on the roof, carrying a huge millstone, while the others, entering, told the giantess that her husband was dead. This news caused the poor creature great grief, and she rushed out of the house to view Gilling's remains. As she passed through the door, the wicked dwarfs rolled the millstone down upon her head, and killed her. According to another account, the dwarfs invited the giant to go fishing with them, and succeeded in slaying him by sending him out in a leaky vessel, which sank beneath his weight. The double crime thus committed did not long remain unpunished, for Gilling's brother, Suttung, quickly went in search of the dwarfs, determined to avenge him. Seizing them in his mighty grasp, the giant conveyed them to a shoal far out at sea, where they would surely have perished at the next high tide had they not succeeded in redeeming their lives by promising to deliver to the giant their recently brewed mead. As soon as Suttung set them ashore, they therefore gave him the precious compound, which he entrusted to his daughter Gunlod, bidding her guard it night and day, and allow neither gods nor mortals to have so much as a taste. The better to fulfil this command, Gunlod carried the three vessels into the hollow mountain, where she kept watch over them with the most scrupulous care, nor did she suspect that Odin had discovered their place of concealment, thanks to the sharp eyes of his ever-vigilant ravens Hugin and Munin. The Quest of the Draught As Odin had mastered the runic lore and had tasted the waters of Mimir's fountain, he was already the wisest of gods; but learning of the power of the draught of inspiration manufactured out of Kvasir's blood, he became very anxious to obtain possession of the magic fluid. With this purpose in view he therefore donned his broad-brimmed hat, wrapped himself in his cloud-hued cloak, and journeyed off to Jötun-heim. On his way to the giant's dwelling he passed by a field where nine ugly thralls were busy making hay. Odin paused for a moment, watching them at their work, and noticing that their scythes seemed very dull indeed, he proposed to whet them, an offer which the thralls eagerly accepted. Drawing a whetstone from his bosom, Odin proceeded to sharpen the nine scythes, skilfully giving them such a keen edge that the thralls, delighted, begged that they might have the stone. With good-humoured acquiescence, Odin tossed the whetstone over the wall; but as the nine thralls simultaneously sprang forward to catch it, they wounded one another with their keen scythes. In anger at their respective carelessness, they now began to fight, and did not pause until they were all either mortally wounded or dead. Quite undismayed by this tragedy, Odin continued on his way, and shortly after came to the house of the giant Baugi, a brother of Suttung, who received him very hospitably. In the course of conversation, Baugi informed him that he was greatly embarrassed, as it was harvest time and all his workmen had just been found dead in the hayfield. Odin, who on this occasion had given his name as Bolwerk (evil doer), promptly offered his services to the giant, promising to accomplish as much work as the nine thralls, and to labour diligently all the summer in exchange for one single draught of Suttung's magic mead when the busy season was ended. This bargain was immediately concluded, and Baugi's new servant, Bolwerk, worked incessantly all the summer long, more than fulfilling his contract, and safely garnering all the grain before the autumn rains began to fall. When the first days of winter came, Bolwerk presented himself before his master, claiming his reward. But Baugi hesitated and demurred, saying he dared not openly ask his brother Suttung for the draught of inspiration, but would try to obtain it by guile. Together, Bolwerk and Baugi then proceeded to the mountain where Gunlod dwelt, and as they could find no other mode of entering the secret cave, Odin produced his trusty auger, called Rati, and bade the giant bore with all his might to make a hole through which he might crawl into the interior. Baugi silently obeyed, and after a few moments' work withdrew the tool, saying that he had pierced through the mountain, and that Odin would have no difficulty in slipping through. But the god, mistrusting this statement, merely blew into the hole, and when the dust and chips came flying into his face, he sternly bade Baugi resume his boring and not attempt to deceive him again. The giant did as he was told, and when he withdrew his tool again, Odin ascertained that the hole was really finished. Changing himself into a snake, he wriggled through with such remarkable rapidity that he managed to elude the sharp auger, which Baugi treacherously thrust into the hole after him, intending to kill him. "Rati's mouth I caused To make a space, And to gnaw the rock; Over and under me Were the Jötun's ways: Thus I my head did peril." Hávamál (Thorpe's tr.). The Rape of the Draught Having reached the interior of the mountain, Odin reassumed his usual godlike form and starry mantle, and then presented himself in the stalactite-hung cave before the beautiful Gunlod. He intended to win her love as a means of inducing her to grant him a sip from each of the vessels confided to her care. Won by his passionate wooing, Gunlod consented to become his wife, and after he had spent three whole days with her in this retreat, she brought out the vessels from their secret hiding-place, and told him he might take a sip from each. "And a draught obtained Of the precious mead, Drawn from Od-hroerir." Odin's Rune-Song (Thorpe's tr.). Odin made good use of this permission and drank so deeply that he completely drained all three vessels. Then, having obtained all that he wanted, he emerged from the cave and, donning his eagle plumes, rose high into the blue, and, after hovering for a moment over the mountain top, winged his flight towards Asgard. He was still far from the gods' realm when he became aware of a pursuer, and, indeed, Suttung, having also assumed the form of an eagle, was coming rapidly after him with intent to compel him to surrender the stolen mead. Odin therefore flew faster and faster, straining every nerve to reach Asgard before the foe should overtake him, and as he drew near the gods anxiously watched the race. Seeing that Odin would only with difficulty be able to escape, the Æsir hastily gathered all the combustible materials they could find, and as he flew over the ramparts of their dwelling, they set fire to the mass of fuel, so that the flames, rising high, singed the wings of Suttung, as he followed the god, and he fell into the very midst of the fire, where he was burned to death. As for Odin, he flew to where the gods had prepared vessels for the stolen mead, and disgorged the draught of inspiration in such breathless haste that a few drops fell and were scattered over the earth. There they became the portion of rhymesters and poetasters, the gods reserving the main draught for their own consumption, and only occasionally vouchsafing a taste to some favoured mortal, who, immediately after, would win world-wide renown by his inspired songs. "Of a well-assumed form I made good use: Few things fail the wise; For Od-hroerir Is now come up To men's earthly dwellings." Hávamál (Thorpe's tr.). As men and gods owed the priceless gift to Odin, they were ever ready to express to him their gratitude, and they not only called it by his name, but they worshipped him as patron of eloquence, poetry, and song, and of all scalds. The God of Music Although Odin had thus won the gift of poetry, he seldom made use of it himself. It was reserved for his son Bragi, the child of Gunlod, to become the god of poetry and music, and to charm the world with his songs. "White-bearded bard, ag'd Bragi, his gold harp Sweeps--and yet softer Stealeth the day." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). As soon as Bragi was born in the stalactite-hung cave where Odin had won Gunlod's affections, the dwarfs presented him with a magical golden harp, and, setting him on one of their own vessels, they sent him out into the wide world. As the boat gently passed out of subterranean darkness, and floated over the threshold of Nain, the realm of the dwarf of death, Bragi, the fair and immaculate young god, who until then had shown no signs of life, suddenly sat up, and, seizing the golden harp beside him, he began to sing the wondrous song of life, which rose at times to heaven, and then sank down to the dread realm of Hel, goddess of death. "Yggdrasil's ash is Of all trees most excellent, And of all ships, Skidbladnir; Of the Æsir, Odin, And of horses, Sleipnir; Bifröst of bridges, And of scalds, Bragi." Lay of Grimnir (Thorpe's tr.). While he played the vessel was wafted gently over sunlit waters, and soon touched the shore. Bragi then proceeded on foot, threading his way through the bare and silent forest, playing as he walked. At the sound of his tender music the trees began to bud and bloom, and the grass underfoot was gemmed with countless flowers. Here he met Idun, daughter of Ivald, the fair goddess of immortal youth, whom the dwarfs allowed to visit the earth from time to time, when, at her approach, nature invariably assumed its loveliest and gentlest aspect. It was only to be expected that two such beings should feel attracted to each other, and Bragi soon won this fair goddess for his wife. Together they hastened to Asgard, where both were warmly welcomed and where Odin, after tracing runes on Bragi's tongue, decreed that he should be the heavenly minstrel and composer of songs in honour of the gods and of the heroes whom he received in Valhalla. Worship of Bragi As Bragi was god of poetry, eloquence, and song, the Northern races also called poetry by his name, and scalds of either sex were frequently designated as Braga-men or Braga-women. Bragi was greatly honoured by all the Northern races, and hence his health was always drunk on solemn or festive occasions, but especially at funeral feasts and at Yuletide celebrations. When it was time to drink this toast, which was served in cups shaped like a ship, and was called the Bragaful, the sacred sign of the hammer was first made over it. Then the new ruler or head of the family solemnly pledged himself to some great deed of valour, which he was bound to execute within the year, unless he wished to be considered destitute of honour. Following his example, all the guests were then wont to make similar vows and declare what they would do; and as some of them, owing to previous potations, talked rather too freely of their intentions on these occasions, this custom seems to connect the god's name with the vulgar but very expressive English verb "to brag." In art, Bragi is generally represented as an elderly man, with long white hair and beard, and holding the golden harp from which his fingers could draw such magic strains. CHAPTER VII: IDUN The Apples of Youth Idun, the personification of spring or immortal youth, who, according to some mythologists, had no birth and was never to taste death, was warmly welcomed by the gods when she made her appearance in Asgard with Bragi. To further win their affections she promised them a daily taste of the marvellous apples which she bore in her casket, and which had the power of conferring immortal youth and loveliness upon all who partook of them. "The golden apples Out of her garden Have yielded you a dower of youth, Ate you them every day." Wagner (Forman's tr.). Thanks to this magic fruit, the Scandinavian gods, who, because they sprang from a mixed race, were not all immortal, warded off the approach of old age and disease, and remained vigorous, beautiful, and young through countless ages. These apples were therefore considered very precious indeed, and Idun carefully treasured them in her magic casket. No matter how many she drew out, the same number always remained for distribution at the feast of the gods, to whom alone she vouchsafed a taste, although dwarfs and giants were eager to obtain possession of the fruit. "Bright Iduna, Maid immortal! Standing at Valhalla's portal, In her casket has rich store Of rare apples gilded o'er; Those rare apples, not of Earth, Ageing Æsir give fresh birth." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The Story of Thiassi One day, Odin, Hoenir, and Loki started out upon one of their usual excursions to earth, and, after wandering for a long while, they found themselves in a deserted region, where they could discover no hospitable dwelling. Weary and very hungry, the gods, perceiving a herd of oxen, slew one of the beasts, and, kindling a fire, they sat down beside it to rest while waiting for their meat to cook. To their surprise, however, in spite of the roaring flames the carcass remained quite raw. Realising that some magic must be at work, they looked about them to discover what could hinder their cookery, when they perceived an eagle perched upon a tree above them. Seeing that he was an object of suspicion to the wayfarers, the bird addressed them and admitted that he it was who had prevented the fire from doing its accustomed work, but he offered to remove the spell if they would give him as much food as he could eat. The gods agreed to do this, whereupon the eagle, swooping downward, fanned the flames with his huge wings, and soon the meat was cooked. The eagle then made ready to carry off three quarters of the ox as his share, but this was too much for Loki, who seized a great stake lying near at hand, and began to belabour the voracious bird, forgetting that it was skilled in magic arts. To his great dismay one end of the stake stuck fast to the eagle's back, the other to his hands, and he found himself dragged over stones and through briers, sometimes through the air, his arms almost torn out of their sockets. In vain he cried for mercy and implored the eagle to let him go; the bird flew on, until he promised any ransom his captor might ask in exchange for his release. The seeming eagle, who was the storm giant Thiassi, at last agreed to release Loki upon one condition. He made him promise upon the most solemn of oaths that he would lure Idun out of Asgard, so that Thiassi might obtain possession of her and of her magic fruit. Released at last, Loki returned to Odin and Hoenir, to whom, however, he was very careful not to confide the condition upon which he had obtained his freedom; and when they had returned to Asgard he began to plan how he might entice Idun outside of the gods' abode. A few days later, Bragi being absent on one of his minstrel journeys, Loki sought Idun in the groves of Brunnaker, where she had taken up her abode, and by artfully describing some apples which grew at a short distance, and which he mendaciously declared were exactly like hers, he lured her away from Asgard with a crystal dish full of fruit, which she intended to compare with that which he extolled. No sooner had Idun left Asgard, however, than the deceiver Loki forsook her, and ere she could return to the shelter of the heavenly abode the storm giant Thiassi swept down from the north on his eagle wings, and catching her up in his cruel talons, he bore her swiftly away to his barren and desolate home of Thrym-heim. "Thrymheim the sixth is named, Where Thiassi dwelt, That all-powerful Jötun." Lay of Grimnir (Thorpe's tr.). Isolated from her beloved companions, Idun pined, grew pale and sad, but persistently refused to give Thiassi the smallest bite of her magic fruit, which, as he well knew, would make him beautiful and renew his strength and youth. "All woes that fall On Odin's hall Can be traced to Loki base. From out Valhalla's portal 'Twas he who pure Iduna lured,-- Whose casket fair Held apples rare That render gods immortal,-- And in Thiassi's tower immured." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Time passed. The gods, thinking that Idun had accompanied her husband and would soon return, at first paid no heed to her departure, but little by little the beneficent effect of the last feast of apples passed away. They began to feel the approach of old age, and saw their youth and beauty disappear; so, becoming alarmed, they began to search for the missing goddess. Close investigation revealed the fact that she had last been seen in Loki's company, and when Odin sternly called him to account, he was forced to admit that he had betrayed her into the storm-giant's power. "By his mocking, scornful mien, Soon in Valhal it was seen 'Twas the traitor Loki's art Which had led Idun apart To gloomy tower And Jotun power." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The Return of Idun The attitude of the gods now became very menacing, and it was clear to Loki that if he did not devise means to restore the goddess, and that soon, his life would be in considerable danger. He assured the indignant gods, therefore, that he would leave no stone unturned in his efforts to secure the release of Idun, and, borrowing Freya's falcon plumage, he flew off to Thrym-heim, where he found Idun alone, sadly mourning her exile from Asgard and her beloved Bragi. Changing the fair goddess into a nut according to some accounts, or according to others, into a swallow, Loki grasped her tightly between his claws, and then rapidly retraced his way to Asgard, hoping that he would reach the shelter of its high walls ere Thiassi returned from a fishing excursion in the Northern seas to which he had gone. Meantime the gods had assembled on the ramparts of the heavenly city, and they were watching for the return of Loki with far more anxiety than they had felt for Odin when he went in search of Od-hroerir. Remembering the success of their ruse on that occasion, they had gathered great piles of fuel, which they were ready to set on fire at any moment. Suddenly they saw Loki coming, but descried in his wake a great eagle. This was the giant Thiassi who had suddenly returned to Thrym-heim and found that his captive had been carried off by a falcon, in whom he readily recognised one of the gods. Hastily donning his eagle plumes he had given immediate chase and was rapidly overtaking his prey. Loki redoubled his efforts as he neared the walls of Asgard, and ere Thiassi overtook him he reached the goal and sank exhausted in the midst of the gods. Not a moment was lost in setting fire to the accumulated fuel, and as the pursuing Thiassi passed over the walls in his turn, the flames and smoke brought him to the ground crippled and half stunned, an easy prey to the gods, who fell ruthlessly upon him and slew him. The Æsir were overjoyed at the recovery of Idun, and they hastened to partake of the precious apples which she had brought safely back. Feeling the return of their wonted strength and good looks with every mouthful they ate, they good-naturedly declared that it was no wonder if even the giants longed to taste the apples of perpetual youth. They vowed therefore that they would place Thiassi's eyes as a constellation in the heavens, in order to soften any feeling of anger which his kinsmen might experience upon learning that he had been slain. "Up I cast the eyes Of Allvaldi's son Into the heaven's serene: They are signs the greatest Of my deeds." Lay of Harbard (Thorpe's tr.). The Goddess of Spring The physical explanation of this myth is obvious. Idun, the emblem of vegetation, is forcibly carried away in autumn, when Bragi is absent and the singing of the birds has ceased. The cold wintry wind, Thiassi, detains her in the frozen, barren north, where she cannot thrive, until Loki, the south wind, brings back the seed or the swallow, which are both precursors of the returning spring. The youth, beauty, and strength conferred by Idun are symbolical of Nature's resurrection in spring after winter's sleep, when colour and vigour return to the earth, which had grown wrinkled and grey. Idun Falls to the Nether World As the disappearance of Idun (vegetation) was a yearly occurrence, we might expect to find other myths dealing with the striking phenomenon, and there is another favourite of the old scalds which, unfortunately, has come down to us only in a fragmentary and very incomplete form. According to this account, Idun was once sitting upon the branches of the sacred ash Yggdrasil when, growing suddenly faint, she loosed her hold and dropped to the ground beneath, and down to the lowest depths of Nifl-heim. There she lay, pale and motionless, gazing with fixed and horror-struck eyes upon the gruesome sights of Hel's realm, trembling violently the while, like one overcome by penetrating cold. "In the dales dwells The prescient Dis, From Yggdrasil's Ash sunk down, Of alfen race, Idun by name, The youngest of Ivaldi's Elder children. She ill brooked Her descent Under the hoar tree's Trunk confined. She would not happy be With Norvi's daughter, Accustomed to a pleasanter Abode at home." Odin's Ravens' Song (Thorpe's tr.). Seeing that she did not return, Odin bade Bragi, Heimdall, and another of the gods go in search of her, giving them a white wolfskin to envelop her in, so that she should not suffer from the cold, and bidding them make every effort to rouse her from the stupor which his prescience told him had taken possession of her. "A wolf's skin they gave her, In which herself she clad." Odin's Ravens' Song (Thorpe's tr.). Idun passively allowed the gods to wrap her in the warm wolfskin, but she persistently refused to speak or move, and from her strange manner her husband sadly suspected that she had had a vision of great ills. The tears ran continuously down her pallid cheeks, and Bragi, overcome by her unhappiness, at length bade the other gods return to Asgard without him, vowing that he would remain beside his wife until she was ready to leave Hel's dismal realm. The sight of her woe oppressed him so sorely that he had no heart for his usual merry songs, and the strings of his harp were mute while he remained in the underworld. "That voice-like zephyr o'er flow'r meads creeping, Like Bragi's music his harp strings sweeping." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). In this myth Idun's fall from Yggdrasil is symbolical of the autumnal falling of the leaves, which lie limp and helpless on the cold bare ground until they are hidden from sight under the snow, represented by the wolfskin, which Odin, the sky, sends down to keep them warm; and the cessation of the birds' songs is further typified by Bragi's silent harp. CHAPTER VIII: NIÖRD A Hostage with the Gods We have already seen how the Æsir and Vanas exchanged hostages after the terrible war they had waged against each other, and that while Hoenir, Odin's brother, went to live in Vana-heim, Niörd, with his two children, Frey and Freya, definitely took up his abode in Asgard. "In Vana-heim Wise powers him created, And to the gods a hostage gave." Lay of Vafthrudnir (Thorpe's tr.). As ruler of the winds, and of the sea near the shore, Niörd was given the palace of Nôatûn, near the seashore, where, we are told, he stilled the terrible tempests stirred up by Ægir, god of the deep sea. "Niörd, the god of storms, whom fishers know; Not born in Heaven--he was in Van-heim rear'd, With men, but lives a hostage with the gods; He knows each frith, and every rocky creek Fringed with dark pines, and sands where sea-fowl scream." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). He also extended his special protection over commerce and fishing, which two occupations could be pursued with advantage only during the short summer months, of which he was in a measure considered the personification. The God of Summer Niörd is represented in art as a very handsome god, in the prime of life, clad in a short green tunic, with a crown of shells and seaweed upon his head, or a brown-brimmed hat adorned with eagle or heron plumes. As personification of the summer, he was invoked to still the raging storms which desolated the coasts during the winter months. He was also implored to hasten the vernal warmth and thereby extinguish the winter fires. As agriculture was practised only during the summer months, and principally along the fiords or sea inlets, Niörd was also invoked for favourable harvests, for he was said to delight in prospering those who placed their trust in him. Niörd's first wife, according to some authorities, was his sister Nerthus, Mother Earth, who in Germany was identified with Frigga, as we have seen, but in Scandinavia was considered a separate divinity. Niörd was, however, obliged to part with her when summoned to Asgard, where he occupied one of the twelve seats in the great council hall, and was present at all the assemblies of the gods, withdrawing to Nôatûn only when his services were not required by the Æsir. "Nôatûn is the eleventh; There Niörd has Himself a dwelling made, Prince of men; Guiltless of sin, He rules o'er the high-built fane." Lay of Grimnir (Thorpe's tr.). In his home by the seashore, Niörd delighted in watching the gulls fly to and fro, and in observing the graceful movements of the swans, his favourite birds, which were held sacred to him. He spent many an hour, too, gazing at the gambols of the gentle seals, which came to bask in the sunshine at his feet. Skadi, Goddess of Winter Shortly after Idun's return from Thrym-heim, and Thiassi's death within the bounds of Asgard, the assembled gods were greatly surprised and dismayed to see Skadi, the giant's daughter, appear one day in their midst, to demand satisfaction for her father's death. Although the daughter of an ugly old Hrim-thurs, Skadi, the goddess of winter, was very beautiful indeed, in her silvery armour, with her glittering spear, sharp-pointed arrows, short white hunting dress, white fur leggings, and broad snowshoes; and the gods could not but recognise the justice of her claim, wherefore they offered the usual fine in atonement. Skadi, however, was so angry that she at first refused this compromise, and sternly demanded a life for a life, until Loki, wishing to appease her wrath, and thinking that if he could only make her cold lips relax in a smile the rest would be easy, began to play all manner of pranks. Fastening a goat to himself by an invisible cord, he went through a series of antics, which were reproduced by the goat; and the sight was so grotesque that all the gods fairly shouted with merriment, and even Skadi was forced to smile. Taking advantage of this softened mood, the gods pointed to the firmament where her father's eyes glowed like radiant stars in the northern hemisphere. They told her they had placed them there to show him all honour, and finally added that she might select as husband any of the gods present at the assembly, providing she were content to judge of their attractions by their naked feet. Blindfolded, so that she could see only the feet of the gods standing in a circle around her, Skadi looked about her and her gaze fell upon a pair of beautifully formed feet. She felt sure they must belong to Balder, the god of light, whose bright face had charmed her, and she designated their owner as her choice. When the bandage was removed, however, she discovered to her chagrin that she had chosen Niörd, to whom her troth was plighted; but notwithstanding her disappointment, she spent a happy honeymoon in Asgard, where all seemed to delight in doing her honour. After this, Niörd took his bride home to Nôatûn, where the monotonous sound of the waves, the shrieking of the gulls, and the cries of the seals so disturbed Skadi's slumbers that she finally declared it was quite impossible for her to remain there any longer, and she implored her husband to take her back to her native Thrym-heim. "Sleep could I not On my sea-strand couch, For screams of the sea fowl. There wakes me, When from the wave he comes, Every morning the mew." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Niörd, anxious to please his new wife, consented to take her to Thrym-heim and to dwell there with her nine nights out of every twelve, providing she would spend the remaining three with him at Nôatûn; but when he reached the mountain region, the soughing of the wind in the pines, the thunder of the avalanches, the cracking of the ice, the roar of the waterfalls, and the howling of the wolves appeared to him as unbearable as the sound of the sea had seemed to his wife, and he could not but rejoice each time when his period of exile was ended, and he found himself again at Nôatûn. "Am weary of the mountains; Not long was I there, Only nine nights; The howl of the wolves Methought sounded ill To the song of the swans." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). The Parting of Niörd and Skadi For some time, Niörd and Skadi, who are the personifications of summer and winter, alternated thus, the wife spending the three short summer months by the sea, and he reluctantly remaining with her in Thrym-heim during the nine long winter months. But, concluding at last that their tastes would never agree, they decided to part for ever, and returned to their respective homes, where each could follow the occupations which custom had endeared to them. "Thrym-heim it's called, Where Thjasse dwelled, That stream-mighty giant; But Skade now dwells, Pure bride of the gods, In her father's old mansion." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Skadi now resumed her wonted pastime of hunting, leaving her realm again only to marry the semi-historical Odin, to whom she bore a son called Sæming, the first king of Norway, and the supposed founder of the royal race which long ruled that country. According to other accounts, however, Skadi eventually married Uller, the winter-god. As Skadi was a skilful marksman, she is represented with bow and arrow, and, as goddess of the chase, she is generally accompanied by one of the wolf-like Eskimo dogs so common in the North. Skadi was invoked by hunters and by winter travellers, whose sleighs she would guide over the snow and ice, thus helping them to reach their destination in safety. Skadi's anger against the gods, who had slain her father, the storm giant, is an emblem of the unbending rigidity of the ice-enveloped earth, which, softened at last by the frolicsome play of Loki (the heat lightning), smiles, and permits the embrace of Niörd (summer). His love, however, cannot hold her for more than three months of the year (typified in the myth by nights), as she is always secretly longing for the wintry storms and for her wonted activities among the mountains. The Worship of Niörd Niörd was supposed to bless the vessels passing in and out of port, and his temples were situated by the seashore; there oaths in his name were commonly sworn, and his health was drunk at every banquet, where he was invariably named with his son Frey. As all aquatic plants were supposed to belong to him, the marine sponge was known in the North as "Niörd's glove," a name which was retained until lately, when the same plant has been popularly re-named the "Virgin's hand." CHAPTER IX: FREY The God of Fairyland Frey, or Fro, as he was called in Germany, was the son of Niörd and Nerthus, or of Niörd and Skadi, and was born in Vana-heim. He therefore belonged to the race of the Vanas, the divinities of water and air, but was warmly welcomed in Asgard when he came thither as hostage with his father. As it was customary among the Northern nations to bestow some valuable gift upon a child when he cut his first tooth, the Æsir gave the infant Frey the beautiful realm of Alf-heim or Fairyland, the home of the Light Elves. "Alf-heim the gods to Frey Gave in days of yore For a tooth gift." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Here Frey, the god of the golden sunshine and the warm summer showers, took up his abode, charmed with the society of the elves and fairies, who implicitly obeyed his every order, and at a sign from him flitted to and fro, doing all the good in their power, for they were pre-eminently beneficent spirits. Frey also received from the gods a marvellous sword (an emblem of the sunbeams), which had the power of fighting successfully, and of its own accord, as soon as it was drawn from its sheath. Frey wielded this principally against the frost giants, whom he hated almost as much as did Thor, and because he carried this glittering weapon, he has sometimes been confounded with the sword-god Tyr or Saxnot. "With a short-shafted hammer fights conquering Thor; Frey's own sword but an ell long is made." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). The dwarfs from Svart-alfa-heim gave Frey the golden-bristled boar Gullin-bursti (the golden-bristled), a personification of the sun. The radiant bristles of this animal were considered symbolical either of the solar rays, of the golden grain, which at his bidding waved over the harvest fields of Midgard, or of agriculture; for the boar (by tearing up the ground with his sharp tusk) was supposed to have first taught mankind how to plough. "There was Frey, and sat On the gold-bristled boar, who first, they say, Plowed the brown earth, and made it green for Frey." Lovers of Gudrun (William Morris). Frey sometimes rode astride of this marvellous boar, whose speed was very great, and at other times harnessed him to his golden chariot, which was said to contain the fruits and flowers which he lavishly scattered abroad over the face of the earth. Frey was, moreover, the proud possessor not only of the dauntless steed Blodug-hofi, which would dash through fire and water at his command, but also of the magic ship Skidbladnir, a personification of the clouds. This vessel, sailing over land and sea, was always wafted along by favourable winds, and was so elastic that, while it could assume large enough proportions to carry the gods, their steeds, and all their equipments, it could also be folded up like a napkin and thrust into a pocket. "Ivaldi's sons Went in days of old Skidbladnir to form, Of ships the best, For the bright Frey, Niörd's benign son." Lay of Grimnir (Thorpe's tr.). The Wooing of Gerda It is related in one of the lays of the Edda that Frey once ventured to ascend Odin's throne Hlidskialf, from which exalted seat his gaze ranged over the wide earth. Looking towards the frozen North, he saw a beautiful young maiden enter the house of the frost giant Gymir, and as she raised her hand to lift the latch her radiant beauty illuminated sea and sky. A moment later, this lovely creature, whose name was Gerda, and who is considered as a personification of the flashing Northern lights, vanished within her father's house, and Frey pensively wended his way back to Alfheim, his heart oppressed with longing to make this fair maiden his wife. Being deeply in love, he was melancholy and absent-minded in the extreme, and began to behave so strangely that his father, Niörd, became greatly alarmed about his health, and bade his favourite servant, Skirnir, discover the cause of this sudden change. After much persuasion, Skirnir finally won from Frey an account of his ascent of Hlidskialf, and of the fair vision he had seen. He confessed his love and also his utter despair, for as Gerda was the daughter of Gymir and Angur-boda, and a relative of the murdered giant Thiassi, he feared she would never view his suit with favour. "In Gymer's court I saw her move, The maid who fires my breast with love; Her snow-white arms and bosom fair Shone lovely, kindling sea and air. Dear is she to my wishes, more Than e'er was maid to youth before; But gods and elves, I wot it well, Forbid that we together dwell." Skirner's Lay (Herbert's tr.). Skirnir, however, replied consolingly that he could see no reason why his master should take a despondent view of the case, and he offered to go and woo the maiden in his name, providing Frey would lend him his steed for the journey, and give him his glittering sword for reward. Overjoyed at the prospect of winning the beautiful Gerda, Frey willingly handed Skirnir the flashing sword, and gave him permission to use his horse. But he quickly relapsed into the state of reverie which had become usual with him since falling in love, and thus he did not notice that Skirnir was still hovering near him, nor did he perceive him cunningly steal the reflection of his face from the surface of the brook near which he was seated, and imprison it in his drinking horn, with intent "to pour it out in Gerda's cup, and by its beauty win the heart of the giantess for the lord" for whom he was about to go a-wooing. Provided with this portrait, with eleven golden apples, and with the magic ring Draupnir, Skirnir now rode off to Jötun-heim, to fulfil his embassy. As he came near Gymir's dwelling he heard the loud and persistent howling of his watch-dogs, which were personifications of the wintry winds. A shepherd, guarding his flock in the vicinity, told him, in answer to his inquiry, that it would be impossible to approach the house, on account of the flaming barrier which surrounded it; but Skirnir, knowing that Blodug-hofi would dash through any fire, merely set spurs to his steed, and, riding up unscathed to the giant's door, was soon ushered into the presence of the lovely Gerda. To induce the fair maiden to lend a favourable ear to his master's proposals, Skirnir showed her the stolen portrait, and proffered the golden apples and magic ring, which, however, she haughtily refused to accept, declaring that her father had gold enough and to spare. "I take not, I, that wondrous ring, Though it from Balder's pile you bring Gold lack not I, in Gymer's bower; Enough for me my father's dower." Skirner's Lay (Herbert's tr.). Indignant at her scorn, Skirnir now threatened to decapitate her with his magic sword, but as this did not in the least frighten the maiden, and she calmly defied him, he had recourse to magic arts. Cutting runes in his stick, he told her that unless she yielded ere the spell was ended, she would be condemned either to eternal celibacy, or to marry some aged frost giant whom she could never love. Terrified into submission by the frightful description of her cheerless future in case she persisted in her refusal, Gerda finally consented to become Frey's wife, and dismissed Skirnir, promising to meet her future spouse on the ninth night, in the land of Buri, the green grove, where she would dispel his sadness and make him happy. "Burri is hight the seat of love; Nine nights elapsed, in that known grove Shall brave Niorder's gallant boy From Gerda take the kiss of joy." Skirner's Lay (Herbert's tr.). Delighted with his success, Skirnir hurried back to Alf-heim, where Frey came eagerly to learn the result of his journey. When he learned that Gerda had consented to become his wife, his face grew radiant with joy; but when Skirnir informed him that he would have to wait nine nights ere he could behold his promised bride, he turned sadly away, declaring the time would appear interminable. "Long is one night, and longer twain; But how for three endure my pain? A month of rapture sooner flies Than half one night of wishful sighs." Skirner's Lay (Herbert's tr.). In spite of this loverlike despondency, however, the time of waiting came to an end, and Frey joyfully hastened to the green grove, where, true to her appointment, he found Gerda, and she became his happy wife, and proudly sat upon his throne beside him. "Frey to wife had Gerd; She was Gymir's daughter, From Jötuns sprung." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). According to some mythologists, Gerda is not a personification of the aurora borealis, but of the earth, which, hard, cold, and unyielding, resists the spring-god's proffers of adornment and fruitfulness (the apples and ring), defies the flashing sunbeams (Frey's sword), and only consents to receive his kiss when it learns that it will else be doomed to perpetual barrenness, or given over entirely into the power of the giants (ice and snow). The nine nights of waiting are typical of the nine winter months, at the end of which the earth becomes the bride of the sun, in the groves where the trees are budding forth into leaf and blossom. Frey and Gerda, we are told, became the parents of a son called Fiolnir, whose birth consoled Gerda for the loss of her brother Beli. The latter had attacked Frey and had been slain by him, although the sun-god, deprived of his matchless sword, had been obliged to defend himself with a stag horn which he hastily snatched from the wall of his dwelling. Besides the faithful Skirnir, Frey had two other attendants, a married couple, Beyggvir and Beyla, the personifications of mill refuse and manure, which two ingredients, being used in agriculture for fertilising purposes, were therefore considered Frey's faithful servants, in spite of their unpleasant qualities. The historical Frey Snorro-Sturleson, in his "Heimskringla," or chronicle of the ancient kings of Norway, states that Frey was an historical personage who bore the name of Ingvi-Frey, and ruled in Upsala after the death of the semi-historical Odin and Niörd. Under his rule the people enjoyed such prosperity and peace that they declared their king must be a god. They therefore began to invoke him as such, carrying their enthusiastic admiration to such lengths that when he died the priests, not daring to reveal the fact, laid him in a great mound instead of burning his body, as had been customary until then. They then informed the people that Frey--whose name was the Northern synonym for "master"--had "gone into the mound," an expression which eventually became the Northman's phrase for death. Not until three years later did the people, who had continued paying their taxes to the king by pouring gold, silver, and copper coin into the mound through three different openings, discover that Frey was dead. As their peace and prosperity had remained undisturbed, they decreed that his corpse should never be burned, and they thus inaugurated the custom of mound-burial, which in due time supplanted the funeral pyre in many places. One of the three mounds near Gamla Upsala still bears this god's name. His statues were placed in the great temple there, and his name was duly mentioned in all solemn oaths, of which the usual formula was, "So help me Frey, Niörd, and the Almighty Asa" (Odin). Worship of Frey No weapons were ever admitted in Frey's temples, the most celebrated of which were at Throndhjeim in Norway, and at Thvera in Iceland. In these temples oxen or horses were offered in sacrifice to him, a heavy gold ring being dipped in the victim's blood ere the above-mentioned oath was solemnly taken upon it. Frey's statues, like those of all the other Northern divinities, were roughly hewn blocks of wood, and the last of these sacred images seems to have been destroyed by Olaf the Saint, who, as we have seen, forcibly converted many of his subjects. Besides being god of sunshine, fruitfulness, peace, and prosperity, Frey was considered the patron of horses and horsemen, and the deliverer of all captives. "Frey is the best Of all the chiefs Among the gods. He causes not tears To maids or mothers: His desire is to loosen the fetters Of those enchained." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). The Yule Feast One month of every year, the Yule month, or Thor's month, was considered sacred to Frey as well as to Thor, and began on the longest night of the year, which bore the name of Mother Night. This month was a time of feasting and rejoicing, for it heralded the return of the sun. The festival was called Yule (wheel) because the sun was supposed to resemble a wheel rapidly revolving across the sky. This resemblance gave rise to a singular custom in England, Germany, and along the banks of the Moselle. Until within late years, the people were wont to assemble yearly upon a mountain, to set fire to a huge wooden wheel, twined with straw, which, all ablaze, was then sent rolling down the hill, to plunge with a hiss into the water. "Some others get a rotten Wheele, all worn and cast aside, Which, covered round about with strawe and tow, they closely hide; And caryed to some mountaines top, being all with fire light, They hurle it down with violence, when darke appears the night; Resembling much the sunne, that from the Heavens down should fal, A strange and monstrous sight it seemes, and fearful to them all; But they suppose their mischiefs are all likewise throwne to hell, And that, from harmes and dangers now, in safetie here they dwell." Naogeorgus. All the Northern races considered the Yule feast the greatest of the year, and were wont to celebrate it with dancing, feasting, and drinking, each god being pledged by name. The first Christian missionaries, perceiving the extreme popularity of this feast, thought it best to encourage drinking to the health of the Lord and his twelve apostles when they first began to convert the Northern heathens. In honour of Frey, boar's flesh was eaten on this occasion. Crowned with laurel and rosemary, the animal's head was brought into the banqueting-hall with much ceremony--a custom long after observed, as the following lines will show: "Caput Apri defero Reddens laudes Domino. The boar's head in hand bring I, With garlands gay and rosemary; I pray you all sing merrily, Qui estis in convivio." Queen's College Carol, Oxford. The father of the family laid his hand on the sacred dish, which was called "the boar of atonement," swearing he would be faithful to his family, and would fulfil all his obligations--an example which was followed by all present, from the highest to the lowest. This dish could be carved only by a man of unblemished reputation and tried courage, for the boar's head was a sacred emblem which was supposed to inspire every one with fear. For that reason a boar's head was frequently used as ornament for the helmets of Northern kings and heroes whose bravery was unquestioned. As Frey's name of Fro is phonetically the same as the word used in German for gladness, he was considered the patron of every joy, and was invariably invoked by married couples who wished to live in harmony. Those who succeeded in doing so for a certain length of time were publicly rewarded by the gift of a piece of boar's flesh, for which in later times, the English and Viennese substituted a flitch of bacon or a ham. "You shall swear, by custom of confession, If ever you made nuptial transgression, Be you either married man or wife: If you have brawls or contentious strife; Or otherwise, at bed or at board, Offended each other in deed or word; Or, since the parish clerk said Amen, You wish'd yourselves unmarried again; Or, in a twelvemonth and a day Repented not in thought any way, But continued true in thought and desire, As when you join'd hands in the quire. If to these conditions, with all feare, Of your own accord you will freely sweare, A whole gammon of bacon you shall receive, And bear it hence with love and good leave: For this our custom at Dunmow well known-- Though the pleasure be ours, the bacon's your own." Brand's Popular Antiquities. At the village of Dunmow in Essex, the ancient custom is still observed. In Vienna the ham or flitch of bacon was hung over the city gate, whence the successful candidate was expected to bring it down, after he had satisfied the judges that he lived in peace with his wife, but was not under petticoat rule. It is said that in Vienna this ham remained for a long time unclaimed until at last a worthy burgher presented himself before the judges, bearing his wife's written affidavit that they had been married twelve years and had never disagreed--a statement which was confirmed by all their neighbours. The judges, satisfied with the proofs laid before them, told the candidate that the prize was his, and that he only need climb the ladder placed beneath it and bring it down. Rejoicing at having secured such a fine ham, the man speedily mounted the ladder; but as he was about to reach for the prize he noticed that the ham, exposed to the noonday sun, was beginning to melt, and that a drop of fat threatened to fall upon his Sunday coat. Hastily beating a retreat, he pulled off his coat, jocosely remarking that his wife would scold him roundly were he to stain it, a confession which made the bystanders roar with laughter, and which cost him his ham. Another Yuletide custom was the burning of a huge log, which had to last through the night, otherwise it was considered a very bad omen indeed. The charred remains of this log were carefully collected, and treasured up for the purpose of setting fire to the log of the following year. "With the last yeeres brand Light the new block, and For good successe in his spending, On your psaltries play, That sweet luck may Come while the log is a-tending." Hesperides (Herrick). This festival was so popular in Scandinavia, where it was celebrated in January, that King Olaf, seeing how dear it was to the Northern heart, transferred most of its observances to Christmas day, thereby doing much to reconcile the ignorant people to their change of religion. As god of peace and prosperity, Frey is supposed to have reappeared upon earth many times, and to have ruled the Swedes under the name of Ingvi-Frey, whence his descendants were called Inglings. He also governed the Danes under the name of Fridleef. In Denmark he is said to have married the beautiful maiden Freygerda, whom he had rescued from a dragon. By her he had a son named Frodi, who, in due time, succeeded him as king. Frodi ruled Denmark in the days when there was "peace throughout the world," that is to say, just at the time when Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea; and because all his subjects lived in amity, he was generally known as Peace Frodi. How the Sea became salt It is related that Frodi once received from Hengi-kiaptr a pair of magic millstones, called Grotti, which were so ponderous that none of his servants nor even his strongest warriors could turn them. The king was aware that the mill was enchanted and would grind anything he wished, so he was very anxious indeed to set it to work, and, during a visit to Sweden, he saw and purchased as slaves the two giantesses Menia and Fenia, whose powerful muscles and frames had attracted his attention. On his return home, Peace Frodi led his new servants to the mill, and bade them turn the grindstones and grind out gold, peace, and prosperity, and they immediately fulfilled his wishes. Cheerfully the women worked on, hour after hour, until the king's coffers were overflowing with gold, and prosperity and peace were rife throughout his land. "Let us grind riches to Frothi! Let us grind him, happy In plenty of substance, On our gladdening Quern." Grotta-Savngr (Longfellow's tr.). But when Menia and Fenia would fain have rested awhile, the king, whose greed had been excited, bade them work on. In spite of their entreaties he forced them to labour hour after hour, allowing them only as much time to rest as was required for the singing of a verse in a song, until exasperated by his cruelty, the giantesses resolved at length to have revenge. One night while Frodi slept they changed their song, and, instead of prosperity and peace, they grimly began to grind an armed host, whereby they induced the Viking Mysinger to land with a large body of troops. While the spell was working the Danes continued in slumber, and thus they were completely surprised by the Viking host, who slew them all. "An army must come Hither forthwith, And burn the town For the prince." Grotta Savngr (Longfellow's tr.). Mysinger took the magic millstones Grotti and the two slaves and put them on board his vessel, bidding the women grind salt, which was a very valuable staple of commerce at that time. The women obeyed, and their millstones went round, grinding salt in abundance; but the Viking, as cruel as Frodi, would give the poor women no rest, wherefore a heavy punishment overtook him and his followers. Such an immense quantity of salt was ground by the magic millstones that in the end its weight sunk the ship and all on board. The ponderous stones sank into the sea in the Pentland Firth, or off the north-western coast of Norway, making a deep round hole, and the waters, rushing into the vortex and gurgling in the holes in the centre of the stones, produced the great whirlpool which is known as the Maelstrom. As for the salt it soon melted; but such was the immense quantity ground by the giantesses that it permeated all the waters of the sea, which have ever since been very salt. CHAPTER X: FREYA The Goddess of Love Freya, the fair Northern goddess of beauty and love, was the sister of Frey and the daughter of Niörd and Nerthus, or Skadi. She was the most beautiful and best beloved of all the goddesses, and while in Germany she was identified with Frigga, in Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Iceland she was considered a separate divinity. Freya, having been born in Vana-heim, was also known as Vanadis, the goddess of the Vanas, or as Vanabride. When she reached Asgard, the gods were so charmed by her beauty and grace that they bestowed upon her the realm of Folkvang and the great hall Sessrymnir (the roomy-seated), where they assured her she could easily accommodate all her guests. "Folkvang 'tis called, Where Freyja has right To dispose of the hall-seats. Every day of the slain She chooses the half, And leaves half to Odin." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Queen of the Valkyrs Although goddess of love, Freya was not soft and pleasure-loving only, for the ancient Northern races believed that she had very martial tastes, and that as Valfreya she often led the Valkyrs down to the battlefields, choosing and claiming one half the heroes slain. She was therefore often represented with corselet and helmet, shield and spear, the lower part of her body only being clad in the usual flowing feminine garb. Freya transported the chosen slain to Folkvang, where they were duly entertained. There also she welcomed all pure maidens and faithful wives, that they might enjoy the company of their lovers and husbands after death. The joys of her abode were so enticing to the heroic Northern women that they often rushed into battle when their loved ones were slain, hoping to meet with the same fate; or they fell upon their swords, or were voluntarily burned on the same funeral pyre as the remains of their beloved. As Freya was believed to lend a favourable ear to lovers' prayers, she was often invoked by them, and it was customary to compose in her honour love-songs, which were sung on all festive occasions, her very name in Germany being used as the verb "to woo." Freya and Odur Freya, the golden-haired and blue-eyed goddess, was also, at times, considered as a personification of the earth. As such she married Odur, a symbol of the summer sun, whom she dearly loved, and by whom she had two daughters, Hnoss and Gersemi. These maidens were so beautiful that all things lovely and precious were called by their names. While Odur lingered contentedly at her side, Freya was smiling and perfectly happy; but, alas! the god was a rover at heart, and, wearying of his wife's company, he suddenly left home and wandered far out into the wide world. Freya, sad and forsaken, wept abundantly, and her tears fell upon the hard rocks, which softened at their contact. We are told even that they trickled down to the very centre of the stones, where they were transformed to gold. Some tears fell into the sea and were changed into translucent amber. Weary of her widowed condition, and longing to clasp her beloved in her arms once more, Freya finally started out in search of him, passing through many lands, where she became known by different names, such as Mardel, Horn, Gefn, Syr, Skialf, and Thrung, inquiring of all she met whether her husband had passed that way, and shedding everywhere so many tears that gold is to be found in all parts of the earth. "And Freya next came nigh, with golden tears; The loveliest Goddess she in Heaven, by all Most honour'd after Frea, Odin's wife. Her long ago the wandering Oder took To mate, but left her to roam distant lands; Since then she seeks him, and weeps tears of gold. Names hath she many; Vanadis on earth They call her, Freya is her name in Heaven." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Far away in the sunny South, under the flowering myrtle-trees, Freya found Odur at last, and her love being restored to her, she was happy and smiling once again, and as radiant as a bride. It is perhaps because Freya found her husband beneath the flowering myrtle, that Northern brides, to this day, wear myrtle in preference to the conventional orange wreath of other climes. Hand in hand, Odur and Freya now gently wended their way home once more, and in the light of their happiness the grass grew green, the flowers bloomed, and the birds sang, for all Nature sympathised as heartily with Freya's joy as it had mourned with her when she was in sorrow. "Out of the morning land, Over the snowdrifts, Beautiful Freya came Tripping to Scoring. White were the moorlands, And frozen before her; Green were the moorlands, And blooming behind her. Out of her gold locks Shaking the spring flowers, Out of her garments Shaking the south wind, Around in the birches Awaking the throstles, And making chaste housewives all Long for their heroes home, Loving and love-giving, Came she to Scoring." The Longbeards' Saga (Charles Kingsley). The prettiest plants and flowers in the North were called Freya's hair or Freya's eye dew, while the butterfly was called Freya's hen. This goddess was also supposed to have a special affection for the fairies, whom she loved to watch dancing in the moonbeams, and for whom she reserved her daintiest flowers and sweetest honey. Odur, Freya's husband, besides being considered a personification of the sun, was also regarded as an emblem of passion, or of the intoxicating pleasures of love; so the ancients declared that it was no wonder his wife could not be happy without him. Freya's Necklace Being goddess of beauty, Freya, naturally, was very fond of the toilet, of glittering adornments, and of precious jewels. One day, while she was in Svart-alfa-heim, the underground kingdom, she saw four dwarfs fashioning the most wonderful necklace she had ever seen. Almost beside herself with longing to possess this treasure, which was called Brisinga-men, and was an emblem of the stars, or of the fruitfulness of the earth, Freya implored the dwarfs to give it to her; but they obstinately refused to do so unless she would promise to grant them her favour. Having secured the necklace at this price, Freya hastened to put it on, and its beauty so enhanced her charms that she wore it night and day, and only occasionally could be persuaded to lend it to the other divinities. Thor, however, wore this necklace when he personated Freya in Jötun-heim, and Loki coveted and would have stolen it, had it not been for the watchfulness of Heimdall. Freya was also the proud possessor of a falcon garb, or falcon plumes, which enabled the wearer to flit through the air as a bird; and this garment was so invaluable that it was twice borrowed by Loki, and was used by Freya herself when she went in search of the missing Odur. "Freya one day Falcon wings took, and through space hied away; Northward and southward she sought her Dearly-loved Odur." Frithiof Saga, Tegnér (Stephens's tr.). As Freya was also considered the goddess of fruitfulness, she was sometimes represented as riding about with her brother Frey in the chariot drawn by the golden-bristled boar, scattering, with lavish hands, fruits and flowers to gladden the hearts of mankind. She had a chariot of her own, however, in which she generally travelled. This was drawn by cats, her favourite animals, the emblems of caressing fondness and sensuality, or the personifications of fecundity. "Then came dark-bearded Niörd, and after him Freyia, thin robed, about her ankles slim The gray cats playing." Lovers of Gudrun (William Morris). Frey and Freya were held in such high honour throughout the North that their names, in modified forms, are still used for "master" and "mistress," and one day of the week is called Freya's day, or Friday, by the English-speaking race. Freya's temples were very numerous indeed, and were long maintained by her votaries, the last, in Magdeburg, Germany, being destroyed by order of Charlemagne. Story of Ottar and Angantyr The Northern people were wont to invoke Freya not only for success in love, prosperity, and increase, but also, at times, for aid and protection. This she vouchsafed to all who served her truly, as appeared in the story of Ottar and Angantyr, two men who, after disputing for some time concerning their rights to a certain piece of property, laid their quarrel before the Thing. That popular assembly decreed that the man who could prove that he had the longest line of noble ancestors should be declared the winner, and a special day was appointed to investigate the genealogy of each claimant. Ottar, unable to remember the names of more than a few of his progenitors, offered sacrifices to Freya, entreating her aid. The goddess graciously heard his prayer, and appearing before him, she changed him into a boar, and rode off upon his back to the dwelling of the sorceress Hyndla, a most renowned witch. By threats and entreaties, Freya compelled the old woman to trace Ottar's genealogy back to Odin, and to name every individual in turn, with a synopsis of his achievements. Then, fearing lest her votary's memory should be unable to retain so many details, Freya further compelled Hyndla to brew a potion of remembrance, which she gave him to drink. "He shall drink Delicious draughts. All the gods I pray To favour Ottar." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Thus prepared, Ottar presented himself before the Thing on the appointed day, and glibly reciting his pedigree, he named so many more ancestors than Angantyr could recollect, that he was easily awarded possession of the property he coveted. "A duty 'tis to act So that the young prince His paternal heritage may have After his kindred." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). The Husbands of Freya Freya was so beautiful that all the gods, giants, and dwarfs longed for her love and in turn tried to secure her as wife. But Freya scorned the ugly giants and refused even Thrym, when urged to accept him by Loki and Thor. She was not so obdurate where the gods themselves were concerned, if the various mythologists are to be believed, for as the personification of the earth she is said to have wedded Odin (the sky), Frey (the fruitful rain), Odur (the sunshine), &c., until it seems as if she deserved the accusation hurled against her by the arch-fiend Loki, of having loved and wedded all the gods in turn. Worship of Freya It was customary on solemn occasions to drink Freya's health with that of the other gods, and when Christianity was introduced in the North this toast was transferred to the Virgin or to St. Gertrude; Freya herself, like all the heathen divinities, was declared a demon or witch, and banished to the mountain peaks of Norway, Sweden, or Germany, where the Brocken is pointed out as her special abode, and the general trysting-place of her demon train on Valpurgisnacht. Chorus of Witches. "On to the Brocken the witches are flocking-- Merry meet--merry part--how they gallop and drive, Yellow stubble and stalk are rocking, And young green corn is merry alive, With the shapes and shadows swimming by. To the highest heights they fly, Where Sir Urian sits on high-- Throughout and about, With clamour and shout, Drives the maddening rout, Over stock, over stone; Shriek, laughter, and moan, Before them are blown." Goethe's Faust (Anster's tr.). As the swallow, cuckoo, and cat were held sacred to Freya in heathen times, these creatures were supposed to have demoniacal attributes, and to this day witches are always depicted with coal-black cats beside them. CHAPTER XI: ULLER The God of Winter Uller, the winter-god, was the son of Sif, and the stepson of Thor. His father, who is never mentioned in the Northern sagas, must have been one of the dreaded frost giants, for Uller loved the cold and delighted in travelling over the country on his broad snowshoes or glittering skates. This god also delighted in the chase, and pursued his game through the Northern forests, caring but little for ice and snow, against which he was well protected by the thick furs in which he was always clad. As god of hunting and archery, he is represented with a quiver full of arrows and a huge bow, and as the yew furnishes the best wood for the manufacture of these weapons, it is said to have been his favourite tree. To have a supply of suitable wood ever at hand ready for use, Uller took up his abode at Ydalir, the vale of yews, where it was always very damp. "Ydalir it is called, Where Ullr has Himself a dwelling made." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). As winter-god, Uller, or Oller, as he was also called, was considered second only to Odin, whose place he usurped during his absence in the winter months of the year. During this period he exercised full sway over Asgard and Midgard, and even, according to some authorities, took possession of Frigga, Odin's wife, as related in the myth of Vili and Ve. But as Uller was very parsimonious, and never bestowed any gifts upon mankind, they gladly hailed the return of Odin, who drove his supplanter away, forcing him to take refuge either in the frozen North or on the tops of the Alps. Here, if we are to believe the poets, he had built a summer house into which he retreated until, knowing Odin had departed once more, he again dared appear in the valleys. Uller was also considered god of death, and was supposed to ride in the Wild Hunt, and at times even to lead it. He is specially noted for his rapidity of motion, and as the snowshoes used in Northern regions are sometimes made of bone, and turned up in front like the prow of a ship, it was commonly reported that Uller had spoken magic runes over a piece of bone, changing it into a vessel, which bore him over land or sea at will. As snowshoes are shaped like a shield, and as the ice with which he yearly enveloped the earth acts as a shield to protect it from harm during the winter, Uller was surnamed the shield-god, and he was specially invoked by all persons about to engage in a duel or in a desperate fight. In Christian times, his place in popular worship was taken by St. Hubert, the hunter, who, also, was made patron of the first month of the year, which began on November 22, and was dedicated to him as the sun passed through the constellation of Sagittarius, the bowman. In Anglo-Saxon, Uller was known as Vulder; but in some parts of Germany he was called Holler and considered to be the husband of the fair goddess Holda, whose fields he covered with a thick mantle of snow, to make them more fruitful when the spring came. By the Scandinavians, Uller was said to have married Skadi, Niörd's divorced wife, the female personification of winter and cold, and their tastes were so congenial that they lived in perfect harmony together. Worship of Uller Numerous temples were dedicated to Uller in the North, and on his altars, as well as on those of all the other gods, lay a sacred ring upon which oaths were sworn. This ring was said to have the power of shrinking so violently as to sever the finger of any premeditated perjurer. The people visited Uller's shrine, especially during the months of November and December, to entreat him to send a thick covering of snow over their lands, as earnest of a good harvest; and as he was supposed to send out the glorious flashes of the aurora borealis, which illumine the Northern sky during its long night, he was considered nearly akin to Balder, the personification of light. According to other authorities, Uller was Balder's special friend, principally because he too spent part of the year in the dismal depths of Nifl-heim, with Hel, the goddess of death. Uller was supposed to endure a yearly banishment thither, during the summer months, when he was forced to resign his sway over the earth to Odin, the summer god, and there Balder came to join him at Midsummer, the date of his disappearance from Asgard, for then the days began to grow shorter, and the rule of light (Balder) gradually yielded to the ever encroaching power of darkness (Hodur). CHAPTER XII: FORSETI The God of Justice and Truth Son of Balder, god of light, and of Nanna, goddess of immaculate purity, Forseti was the wisest, most eloquent, and most gentle of all the gods. When his presence in Asgard became known, the gods awarded him a seat in the council hall, decreed that he should be patron of justice and righteousness, and gave him as abode the radiant palace Glitnir. This dwelling had a silver roof, supported on pillars of gold, and it shone so brightly that it could be seen from a great distance. "Glitner is the tenth; It is on gold sustained, And also with silver decked. There Forseti dwells Throughout all time, And every strife allays." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Here, upon an exalted throne, Forseti, the lawgiver, sat day after day, settling the differences of gods and men, patiently listening to both sides of every question, and finally pronouncing sentences so equitable that none ever found fault with his decrees. Such were this god's eloquence and power of persuasion that he always succeeded in touching his hearers' hearts, and never failed to reconcile even the most bitter foes. All who left his presence were thereafter sure to live in peace, for none dared break a vow once made to him, lest they should incur his just anger and be smitten immediately unto death. "Forsete, Balder's high-born son, Hath heard mine oath; Strike dead, Forset', if e'er I'm won To break my troth." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). As god of justice and eternal law, Forseti was supposed to preside over every judicial assembly; he was invariably appealed to by all who were about to undergo a trial, and it was said that he rarely failed to help the deserving. The Story of Heligoland In order to facilitate the administration of justice throughout their land it is related that the Frisians commissioned twelve of their wisest men, the Asegeir, or elders, to collect the laws of the various families and tribes composing their nation, and to compile from them a code which should be the basis of uniform laws. The elders, having painstakingly finished their task of collecting this miscellaneous information, embarked upon a small vessel, to seek some secluded spot where they might conduct their deliberations in peace. But no sooner had they pushed away from shore than a tempest arose, which drove their vessel far out to sea, first on this course and then on that, until they entirely lost their bearings. In their distress the twelve jurists called upon Forseti, begging him to help them to reach land once again, and the prayer was scarcely ended when they perceived, to their utter surprise, that the vessel contained a thirteenth passenger. Seizing the rudder, the newcomer silently brought the vessel round, steering it towards the place where the waves dashed highest, and in an incredibly short space of time they came to an island, where the steersman motioned them to disembark. In awestruck silence the twelve men obeyed; and their surprise was further excited when they saw the stranger fling his battle-axe, and a limpid spring gush forth from the spot on the greensward where it fell. Imitating the stranger, all drank of this water without a word; then they sat down in a circle, marvelling because the newcomer resembled each one of them in some particular, but yet was very different from any one of them in general aspect and mien. Suddenly the silence was broken, and the stranger began to speak in low tones, which grew firmer and louder as he proceeded to expound a code of laws which combined all the good points of the various existing regulations which the Asegeir had collected. His speech being finished, the speaker vanished as suddenly and mysteriously as he had appeared, and the twelve jurists, recovering power of speech, simultaneously exclaimed that Forseti himself had been among them, and had delivered the code of laws by which the Frisians should henceforth be judged. In commemoration of the god's appearance they declared the island upon which they stood to be holy, and they pronounced a solemn curse upon any who might dare to desecrate its sanctity by quarrel or bloodshed. Accordingly this island, known as Forseti's land or Heligoland (holy land), was greatly respected by all the Northern nations, and even the boldest vikings refrained from raiding its shores, lest they should suffer shipwreck or meet a shameful death in punishment for their crime. Solemn judicial assemblies were frequently held upon this sacred isle, the jurists always drawing water and drinking it in silence, in memory of Forseti's visit. The waters of his spring were, moreover, considered to be so holy that all who drank of them were held to be sacred, and even the cattle who had tasted of them might not be slain. As Forseti was said to hold his assizes in spring, summer, and autumn, but never in winter, it became customary, in all the Northern countries, to dispense justice in those seasons, the people declaring that it was only when the light shone clearly in the heavens that right could become apparent to all, and that it would be utterly impossible to render an equitable verdict during the dark winter season. Forseti is seldom mentioned except in connection with Balder. He apparently had no share in the closing battle in which all the other gods played such prominent parts. CHAPTER XIII: HEIMDALL The Watchman of the Gods In the course of a walk along the sea-shore Odin once beheld nine beautiful giantesses, the wave maidens, Gialp, Greip, Egia, Augeia, Ulfrun, Aurgiafa, Sindur, Atla, and Iarnsaxa, sound asleep on the white sand. The god of the sky was so charmed with these beautiful creatures that, as the Eddas relate, he wedded all nine of them, and they combined, at the same moment, to bring forth a son, who received the name of Heimdall. "Born was I of mothers nine, Son I am of sisters nine." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). The nine mothers proceeded to nourish their babe on the strength of the earth, the moisture of the sea, and the heat of the sun, which singular diet proved so strengthening that the new god acquired his full growth in a remarkably short space of time, and hastened to join his father in Asgard. He found the gods proudly contemplating the rainbow bridge Bifröst, which they had just constructed out of fire, air, and water, the three materials which can still plainly be seen in its long arch, where glow the three primary colours: the red representing the fire, the blue the air, and the green the cool depths of the sea. The Guardian of the Rainbow This bridge connected heaven and earth, and ended under the shade of the mighty world-tree Yggdrasil, close beside the fountain where Mimir kept guard, and the only drawback to prevent the complete enjoyment of the glorious spectacle, was the fear lest the frost-giants should make their way over it and so gain entrance into Asgard. The gods had been debating the advisability of appointing a trustworthy guardian, and they hailed the new recruit as one well-fitted to fulfil the onerous duties of the office. Heimdall gladly undertook the responsibility and henceforth, night and day, he kept vigilant watch over the rainbow highway into Asgard. "Bifröst i' th' east shone forth in brightest green; On its top, in snow-white sheen, Heimdal at his post was seen." Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). To enable their watchman to detect the approach of any enemy from afar, the assembled gods bestowed upon him senses so keen that he is said to have been able to hear the grass grow on the hillside, and the wool on the sheep's back; to see one hundred miles off as plainly by night as by day; and with all this he required less sleep than a bird. "'Mongst shivering giants wider known Than him who sits unmoved on high, The guard of heaven, with sleepless eye." Lay of Skirner (Herbert's tr.). Heimdall was provided further with a flashing sword and a marvellous trumpet, called Giallar-horn, which the gods bade him blow whenever he saw their enemies approach, declaring that its sound would rouse all creatures in heaven, earth, and Nifl-heim. Its last dread blast would announce the arrival of that day when the final battle would be fought. "To battle the gods are called By the ancient Gjallar-horn. Loud blows Heimdall, His sound is in the air." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). To keep this instrument, which was a symbol of the crescent moon, ever at hand, Heimdall either hung it on a branch of Yggdrasil above his head or sank it in the waters of Mimir's well. In the latter it lay side by side with Odin's eye, which was an emblem of the moon at its full. Heimdall's palace, called Himinbiorg, was situated on the highest point of the bridge, and here the gods often visited him to quaff the delicious mead which he set before them. "'Tis Himminbjorg called Where Heimdal, they say, Hath dwelling and rule. There the gods' warder drinks, In peaceful old halls, Gladsome the good mead." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Heimdall was always depicted in resplendent white armour, and he was therefore called the bright god. He was also known as the light, innocent, and graceful god, all of which names he fully deserved, for he was as good as he was beautiful, and all the gods loved him. Connected on his mothers' side with the sea, he was sometimes included with the Vanas; and as the ancient Northmen, especially the Icelanders, to whom the surrounding sea appeared the most important element, fancied that all things had risen out of it, they attributed to him an all-embracing knowledge and imagined him particularly wise. "Of Æsir the brightest-- He well foresaw Like other Vanir." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Heimdall was further distinguished by his golden teeth, which flashed when he smiled, and won for him the surname of Gullintani (golden-toothed). He was also the proud possessor of a swift, golden-maned steed called Gull-top, which bore him to and fro over the quivering rainbow bridge. This he crossed many times a day, but particularly in the early morn, at which time, as herald of the day, he bore the name of Heimdellinger. "Early up Bifröst Ran Ulfrun's son, The mighty hornblower Of Himinbiörg." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Loki and Freya His extreme acuteness of hearing caused Heimdall to be disturbed one night by the sound of soft, catlike footsteps in the direction of Freya's palace, Folkvang. Projecting his eagle gaze through the darkness, Heimdall perceived that the sound was produced by Loki, who, having stealthily entered the palace as a fly, had approached Freya's bedside, and was trying to steal her shining golden necklace, Brisinga-men, the emblem of the fruitfulness of the earth. Heimdall saw that the goddess was resting in her sleep in such a way that no one could possibly unclasp the necklace without awaking her. Loki stood hesitatingly by the bedside for a few moments, and then began rapidly to mutter the runes which enabled the gods to change their form at will. As he did this, Heimdall saw him shrivel up until he was changed to the size and form of a flea, when he crept under the bed-clothes and bit Freya's side, thus causing her to change her position without being roused from sleep. The clasp was now in view, and Loki, cautiously unfastening it, secured the coveted treasure, and forthwith proceeded to steal away with it. Heimdall immediately started out in pursuit of the midnight thief, and quickly overtaking him, he drew his sword from its scabbard, with intent to cut off his head, when the god transformed himself into a flickering blue flame. Quick as thought, Heimdall changed himself into a cloud and sent down a deluge of rain to quench the fire; but Loki as promptly altered his form to that of a huge polar bear, and opened wide his jaws to swallow the water. Heimdall, nothing daunted, then likewise assumed the form of a bear, and attacked fiercely; but the combat threatening to end disastrously for Loki, the latter changed himself into a seal, and, Heimdall imitating him, a last struggle took place, which ended in Loki being forced to give up the necklace, which was duly restored to Freya. In this myth, Loki is an emblem of drought, or of the baleful effects of the too ardent heat of the sun, which comes to rob the earth (Freya) of its most cherished ornament (Brisinga-men). Heimdall is a personification of the gentle rain and dew, which after struggling for a while with his foe, the drought, eventually conquers him and forces him to relinquish his prize. Heimdall's Names Heimdall has several other names, among which we find those of Hallinskide and Irmin, for at times he takes Odin's place and is identified with that god, as well as with the other sword-gods, Er, Heru, Cheru and Tyr, who are all noted for their shining weapons. He, however, is most generally known as warder of the rainbow, and god of heaven, and of the fruitful rains and dews which bring refreshment to the earth. Heimdall also shared with Bragi the honour of welcoming heroes to Valhalla, and, under the name of Riger, was considered the divine sire of the various classes which compose the human race, as appears in the following story: The Story of Riger "Sacred children, Great and small, Sons of Heimdall!" Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Heimdall left his place in Asgard one day to wander upon the earth, as the gods were wont to do. He had not gone far ere he came to a poor hut on the seashore, where he found Ai (great grandfather) and Edda (great grandmother), a poor but worthy couple, who hospitably invited him to share their meagre meal of porridge. Heimdall, who gave his name as Riger, gladly accepted this invitation, and remained with the couple three whole days, teaching them many things. At the end of that time he left to resume his journey. Some time after his visit, Edda bore a dark-skinned thick-set boy, whom she called Thrall. Thrall soon showed uncommon physical strength and a great aptitude for all heavy work; and when he had grown up he took to wife Thyr, a heavily built girl with sunburnt hands and flat feet, who, like her husband, laboured early and late. Many children were born to this couple and from them all the serfs or thralls of the Northland were descended. "They had children Lived and were happy;   They laid fences, Enriched the plow-land, Tended swine, Herded goats, Dug peat." Rigsmál (Du Chaillu's version). After leaving the poor hut on the barren seacoast Riger had pushed inland, where ere long he came to cultivated fields and a thrifty farmhouse. Entering this comfortable dwelling, he found Afi (grandfather) and Amma (grandmother), who hospitably invited him to sit down with them and share the plain but bountiful fare which was prepared for their meal. Riger accepted the invitation and he remained three days with his hosts, imparting the while all manner of useful knowledge to them. After his departure from their house, Amma gave birth to a blue-eyed sturdy boy, whom she called Karl. As he grew up he exhibited great skill in agricultural pursuits, and in due course he married a buxom and thrifty wife named Snor, who bore him many children, from whom the race of husbandmen is descended. "He did grow And thrive well; He broke oxen, Made plows; Timbered houses, Made barns, Made carts, And drove the plow." Rigsmál (Du Chaillu's version). Leaving the house of this second couple, Riger continued his journey until he came to a hill, upon which was perched a stately castle. Here he was received by Fadir (father) and Modir (mother), who, delicately nurtured and luxuriously clad, received him cordially, and set before him dainty meats and rich wines. Riger tarried three days with this couple, afterwards returning to Himinbiorg to resume his post as guardian of Asa-bridge; and ere long the lady of the castle bore a handsome, slenderly built little son, whom she called Jarl. This child early showed a great taste for the hunt and all manner of martial exercises, learned to understand runes, and lived to do great deeds of valour which made his name distinguished and added glory to his race. Having attained manhood, Jarl married Erna, an aristocratic, slender-waisted maiden, who ruled his household wisely and bore him many children, all destined to rule, the youngest of whom, Konur, became the first king of Denmark. This myth well illustrates the marked sense of class among the Northern races. "Up grew The sons of Jarl; They brake horses, Bent shields, Smoothed shafts, Shook ash spears But Kon, the young, Knew runes, Everlasting runes And life runes." Rigsmál (Du Chaillu's version). CHAPTER XIV: HERMOD The Nimble God Another of Odin's sons was Hermod, his special attendant, a bright and beautiful young god, who was gifted with great rapidity of motion and was therefore designated as the swift or nimble god. "But there was one, the first of all the gods For speed, and Hermod was his name in Heaven; Most fleet he was." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). On account of this important attribute Hermod was usually employed by the gods as messenger, and at a mere sign from Odin he was always ready to speed to any part of creation. As a special mark of favour, Allfather gave him a magnificent corselet and helmet, which he often donned when he prepared to take part in war, and sometimes Odin entrusted to his care the precious spear Gungnir, bidding him cast it over the heads of combatants about to engage in battle, that their ardour might be kindled into murderous fury. "Let us Odin pray Into our minds to enter; He gives and grants Gold to the deserving. He gave to Hermod A helm and corselet." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Hermod delighted in battle, and was often called "the valiant in battle," and confounded with the god of the universe, Irmin. It is said that he sometimes accompanied the Valkyrs on their ride to earth, and frequently escorted the warriors to Valhalla, wherefore he was considered the leader of the heroic dead. "To him spake Hermoder and Brage: 'We meet thee and greet thee from all, To the gods thou art known by thy valour, And they bid thee a guest to their hall.'" Owen Meredith. Hermod's distinctive attribute, besides his corselet and helm, was a wand or staff called Gambantein, the emblem of his office, which he carried with him wherever he went. Hermod and the Soothsayer Once, oppressed by shadowy fears for the future, and unable to obtain from the Norns satisfactory answers to his questions, Odin bade Hermod don his armour and saddle Sleipnir, which he alone, besides Odin, was allowed to ride, and hasten off to the land of the Finns. This people, who lived in the frozen regions of the pole, besides being able to call up the cold storms which swept down from the North, bringing much ice and snow in their train, were supposed to have great occult powers. The most noted of these Finnish magicians was Rossthiof (the horse thief) who was wont to entice travellers into his realm by magic arts, that he might rob and slay them; and he had power to predict the future, although he was always very reluctant to do so. Hermod, "the swift," rode rapidly northward, with directions to seek this Finn, and instead of his own wand, he carried Odin's runic staff, which Allfather had given him for the purpose of dispelling any obstacles that Rossthiof might conjure up to hinder his advance. In spite, therefore, of phantom-like monsters and of invisible snares and pitfalls, Hermod was enabled safely to reach the magician's abode, and upon the giant attacking him, he was able to master him with ease, and he bound him hand and foot, declaring that he would not set him free until he promised to reveal all that he wished to know. Rossthiof, seeing that there was no hope of escape, pledged himself to do as his captor wished, and upon being set at liberty, he began forthwith to mutter incantations, at the mere sound of which the sun hid behind the clouds, the earth trembled and quivered, and the storm winds howled like a pack of hungry wolves. Pointing to the horizon, the magician bade Hermod look, and the swift god saw in the distance a great stream of blood reddening the ground. While he gazed wonderingly at this stream, a beautiful woman suddenly appeared, and a moment later a little boy stood beside her. To the god's amazement, this child grew with such marvellous rapidity that he soon attained his full growth, and Hermod further noticed that he fiercely brandished a bow and arrows. Rossthiof now began to explain the omens which his art had conjured up, and he declared that the stream of blood portended the murder of one of Odin's sons, but that if the father of the gods should woo and win Rinda, in the land of the Ruthenes (Russia), she would bear him a son who would attain his full growth in a few hours and would avenge his brother's death. "Rind a son shall bear, In the western halls: He shall slay Odin's son, When one night old." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Hermod listened attentively to the words of Rossthiof and upon his return to Asgard he reported all he had seen and heard to Odin, whose fears were confirmed and who thus definitely ascertained that he was doomed to lose a son by violent death. He consoled himself, however, with the thought that another of his descendants would avenge the crime and thereby obtain the satisfaction which a true Northman ever required. CHAPTER XV: VIDAR The Silent God It is related that Odin once loved the beautiful giantess Grid, who dwelt in a cave in the desert, and that, wooing her, he prevailed upon her to become his wife. The offspring of this union between Odin (mind) and Grid (matter) was Vidar, a son as strong as he was taciturn, whom the ancients considered a personification of the primæval forest or of the imperishable forces of Nature. As the gods, through Heimdall, were intimately connected with the sea, they were also bound by close ties to the forests and Nature in general through Vidar, surnamed "the silent," who was destined to survive their destruction and rule over a regenerated earth. This god had his habitation in Landvidi (the wide land), a palace decorated with green boughs and fresh flowers, situated in the midst of an impenetrable primæval forest where reigned the deep silence and solitude which he loved. "Grown over with shrubs And with high grass In Vidar's wide land." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). This old Scandinavian conception of the silent Vidar is indeed very grand and poetical, and was inspired by the rugged Northern scenery. "Who has ever wandered through such forests, in a length of many miles, in a boundless expanse, without a path, without a goal, amid their monstrous shadows, their sacred gloom, without being filled with deep reverence for the sublime greatness of Nature above all human agency, without feeling the grandeur of the idea which forms the basis of Vidar's essence?" Vidar's Shoe Vidar is depicted as tall, well-made, and handsome, clad in armour, girded with a broad-bladed sword, and shod with a great iron or leather shoe. According to some mythologists, he owed this peculiar footgear to his mother Grid, who, knowing that he would be called upon to fight against fire on the last day, designed it as a protection against the fiery element, as her iron gauntlet had shielded Thor in his encounter with Geirrod. But other authorities state that this shoe was made of the leather scraps which Northern cobblers had either given or thrown away. As it was essential that the shoe should be large and strong enough to resist the Fenris wolf's sharp teeth at the last day, it was a matter of religious observance among Northern shoemakers to give away as many odds and ends of leather as possible. The Norn's Prophecy When Vidar joined his peers in Valhalla, they welcomed him gaily, for they knew that his great strength would serve them well in their time of need. After they had lovingly regaled him with the golden mead, Allfather bade him follow to the Urdar fountain, where the Norns were ever busy weaving their web. Questioned by Odin concerning his future and Vidar's destiny, the three sisters answered oracularly; each uttering a sentence: "Early begun." "Further spun." "One day done." To these their mother, Wyrd, the primitive goddess of fate, added: "With joy once more won." These mysterious answers would have remained totally unintelligible had the goddess not gone on to explain that time progresses, that all must change, but that even if the father fell in the last battle, his son Vidar would be his avenger, and would live to rule over a regenerated world, after having conquered all his enemies. "There sits Odin's Son on the horse's back; He will avenge his father." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). As Wyrd spoke, the leaves of the world tree fluttered as if agitated by a breeze, the eagle on its topmost bough flapped its wings, and the serpent Nidhug for a moment suspended its work of destruction at the roots of the tree. Grid, joining the father and son, rejoiced with Odin when she heard that their son was destined to survive the older gods and to rule over the new heaven and earth. "There dwell Vidar and Vale In the gods' holy seats, When the fire of Surt is slaked." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). Vidar, however, uttered not a word, but slowly wended his way back to his palace Landvidi, in the heart of the primæval forest, and there, sitting upon his throne, he pondered long about eternity, futurity, and infinity. If he fathomed their secrets he never revealed them, for the ancients averred that he was "as silent as the grave"--a silence which indicated that no man knows what awaits him in the life to come. Vidar was not only a personification of the imperish-ability of Nature, but he was also a symbol of resurrection and renewal, exhibiting the eternal truth that new shoots and blossoms will spring forth to replace those which have fallen into decay. The shoe he wore was to be his defence against the wolf Fenris, who, having destroyed Odin, would direct his wrath against him, and open wide his terrible jaws to devour him. But the old Northmen declared that Vidar would brace the foot thus protected against the monster's lower jaw, and, seizing the upper, would struggle with him until he had rent him in twain. As one shoe only is mentioned in the Vidar myths, some mythologists suppose that he had but one leg, and was the personification of a waterspout, which would rise suddenly on the last day to quench the wild fire personified by the terrible wolf Fenris. CHAPTER XVI: VALI The Wooing of Rinda Billing, king of the Ruthenes, was sorely dismayed when he heard that a great force was about to invade his kingdom, for he was too old to fight as of yore, and his only child, a daughter named Rinda, although she was of marriageable age, obstinately refused to choose a husband from among her many suitors, and thus give her father the help which he so sadly needed. While Billing was musing disconsolately in his hall, a stranger suddenly entered his palace. Looking up, the king beheld a middle-aged man wrapped in a wide cloak, with a broad-brimmed hat drawn down over his forehead to conceal the fact that he had but one eye. The stranger courteously enquired the cause of his evident depression, and as there was that in his bearing that compelled confidence, the king told him all, and at the end of the relation he volunteered to command the army of the Ruthenes against their foe. His services being joyfully accepted, it was not long ere Odin--for it was he--won a signal victory, and, returning in triumph, he asked permission to woo the king's daughter Rinda for his wife. Despite the suitor's advancing years, Billing hoped that his daughter would lend a favourable ear to a wooer who appeared to be very distinguished, and he immediately signified his consent. So Odin, still unknown, presented himself before the princess, but she scornfully rejected his proposal, and rudely boxed his ears when he attempted to kiss her. Forced to withdraw, Odin nevertheless did not relinquish his purpose to make Rinda his wife, for he knew, thanks to Rossthiof's prophecy, that none but she could bring forth the destined avenger of his murdered son. His next step, therefore, was to assume the form of a smith, in which guise he came back to Billing's hall, and fashioning costly ornaments of silver and gold, he so artfully multiplied these precious trinkets that the king joyfully acquiesced when he inquired whether he might pay his addresses to the princess. The smith, Rosterus as he announced himself, was, however, as unceremoniously dismissed by Rinda as the successful general had been; but although his ear once again tingled with the force of her blow, he was more determined than ever to make her his wife. The next time Odin presented himself before the capricious damsel, he was disguised as a dashing warrior, for, thought he, a young soldier might perchance touch the maiden's heart; but when he again attempted to kiss her, she pushed him back so suddenly that he stumbled and fell upon one knee. "Many a fair maiden When rightly known, Towards men is fickle; That I experienced, When that discreet maiden I Strove to win; Contumely of every kind That wily girl Heaped upon me; Nor of that damsel gained I aught." Soemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). This third insult so enraged Odin that he drew his magic rune stick out of his breast, pointed it at Rinda, and uttered such a terrible spell that she fell back into the arms of her attendants rigid and apparently lifeless. When the princess came to life again, her suitor had disappeared, but the king discovered with great dismay that she had entirely lost her senses and was melancholy mad. In vain all the physicians were summoned and all their simples tried; the maiden remained passive and sad, and her distracted father had well-nigh abandoned hope when an old woman, who announced herself as Vecha, or Vak, appeared and offered to undertake the cure of the princess. The seeming old woman, who was Odin in disguise, first prescribed a foot-bath for the patient; but as this did not appear to have any very marked effect, she proposed to try a more drastic treatment. For this, Vecha declared, the patient must be entrusted to her exclusive care, securely bound so that she could not offer the least resistance. Billing, anxious to save his child, was ready to assent to anything; and having thus gained full power over Rinda, Odin compelled her to wed him, releasing her from bonds and spell only when she had faithfully promised to be his wife. The Birth of Vali The prophecy of Rossthiof was now fulfilled, for Rinda duly bore a son named Vali (Ali, Bous, or Beav), a personification of the lengthening days, who grew with such marvellous rapidity that in the course of a single day he attained his full stature. Without waiting even to wash his face or comb his hair, this young god hastened to Asgard, bow and arrow in hand, to avenge the death of Balder upon his murderer, Hodur, the blind god of darkness. "But, see! th' avenger, Vali, come, Sprung from the west, in Rinda's womb, True son of Odin! one day's birth! He shall not stop nor stay on earth His locks to comb, his hands to lave, His frame to rest, should rest it crave, Until his mission be complete, And Balder's death find vengeance meet." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). In this myth, Rinda, a personification of the hard-frozen rind of the earth, resists the warm wooing of the sun, Odin, who vainly points out that spring is the time for warlike exploits, and offers the adornments of golden summer. She only yields when, after a shower (the footbath), a thaw sets in. Conquered then by the sun's irresistible might, the earth yields to his embrace, is freed from the spell (ice) which made her hard and cold, and brings forth Vali the nourisher, or Bous the peasant, who emerges from his dark hut when the pleasant days have come. The slaying of Hodur by Vali is therefore emblematical of "the breaking forth of new light after wintry darkness." Vali, who ranked as one of the twelve deities occupying seats in the great hall of Glads-heim, shared with his father the dwelling called Valaskialf, and was destined, even before birth, to survive the last battle and twilight of the gods, and to reign with Vidar over the regenerated earth. Worship of Vali Vali is god of eternal light, as Vidar is of imperishable matter; and as beams of light were often called arrows, he is always represented and worshipped as an archer. For that reason his month in Norwegian calendars is designated by the sign of the bow, and is called Lios-beri, the light-bringing. As it falls between the middle of January and of February, the early Christians dedicated this month to St. Valentine, who was also a skilful archer, and was said, like Vali, to be the harbinger of brighter days, the awakener of tender sentiments, and the patron of all lovers. CHAPTER XVII: THE NORNS The Three Fates The Northern goddesses of fate, who were called Norns, were in nowise subject to the other gods, who might neither question nor influence their decrees. They were three sisters, probably descendants of the giant Norvi, from whom sprang Nott (night). As soon as the Golden Age was ended, and sin began to steal even into the heavenly homes of Asgard, the Norns made their appearance under the great ash Yggdrasil, and took up their abode near the Urdar fountain. According to some mythologists, their mission was to warn the gods of future evil, to bid them make good use of the present, and to teach them wholesome lessons from the past. These three sisters, whose names were Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld, were personifications of the past, present, and future. Their principal occupations were to weave the web of fate, to sprinkle daily the sacred tree with water from the Urdar fountain, and to put fresh clay around its roots, that it might remain fresh and ever green. "Thence come the maids Who much do know; Three from the hall Beneath the tree; One they named Was, And Being next, The third Shall be." The Völuspâ (Henderson's tr.). Some authorities further state that the Norns kept watch over the golden apples which hung on the branches of the tree of life, experience, and knowledge, allowing none but Idun to pick the fruit, which was that with which the gods renewed their youth. The Norns also fed and tenderly cared for two swans which swam over the mirror-like surface of the Urdar fountain, and from this pair of birds all the swans on earth are supposed to be descended. At times, it is said, the Norns clothed themselves with swan plumage to visit the earth, or sported like mermaids along the coast and in various lakes and rivers, appearing to mortals, from time to time, to foretell the future or give them sage advice. The Norns' Web The Norns sometimes wove webs so large that while one of the weavers stood on a high mountain in the extreme east, another waded far out into the western sea. The threads of their woof resembled cords, and varied greatly in hue, according to the nature of the events about to occur, and a black thread, tending from north to south, was invariably considered an omen of death. As these sisters flashed the shuttle to and fro, they chanted a solemn song. They did not seem to weave according to their own wishes, but blindly, as if reluctantly executing the wishes of Orlog, the eternal law of the universe, an older and superior power, who apparently had neither beginning nor end. Two of the Norns, Urd and Verdandi, were considered to be very beneficent indeed, while the third, it is said, relentlessly undid their work, and often, when nearly finished, tore it angrily to shreds, scattering the remnants to the winds of heaven. As personifications of time, the Norns were represented as sisters of different ages and characters, Urd (Wurd, weird) appearing very old and decrepit, continually looking backward, as if absorbed in contemplating past events and people; Verdandi, the second sister, young, active, and fearless, looked straight before her, while Skuld, the type of the future, was generally represented as closely veiled, with head turned in the direction opposite to where Urd was gazing, and holding a book or scroll which had not yet been opened or unrolled. These Norns were visited daily by the gods, who loved to consult them; and even Odin himself frequently rode down to the Urdar fountain to bespeak their aid, for they generally answered his questions, maintaining silence only about his own fate and that of his fellow gods. "Rode he long and rode he fast. First beneath the great Life Tree, At the sacred Spring sought he Urdar, Norna of the Past; But her backward seeing eye Could no knowledge now supply. Across Verdandi's page there fell Dark shades that ever woes foretell; The shadows which 'round Asgard hung Their baleful darkness o'er it flung; The secret was not written there Might save Valhal, the pure and fair. Last youngest of the sisters three, Skuld, Norna of Futurity, Implored to speak, stood silent by,-- Averted was her tearful eye." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Other Guardian Spirits Besides the three principal Norns there were many others, far less important, who seem to have been the guardian spirits of mankind, to whom they frequently appeared, lavishing all manner of gifts upon their favourites, and seldom failing to be present at births, marriages, and deaths. "Oh, manifold is their kindred, and who shall tell them all? There are they that rule o'er men folk, and the stars that rise and fall." Sigurd the Volsung (William Morris). The Story of Nornagesta On one occasion the three sisters visited Denmark, and entered the dwelling of a nobleman as his first child came into the world. Entering the apartment where the mother lay, the first Norn promised that the child should be handsome and brave, and the second that he should be prosperous and a great scald--predictions which filled the parents' hearts with joy. Meantime news of what was taking place had gone abroad, and the neighbours came thronging the apartment to such a degree that the pressure of the curious crowd caused the third Norn to be pushed rudely from her chair. Angry at this insult, Skuld proudly rose and declared that her sister's gifts should be of no avail, since she would decree that the child should live only as long as the taper then burning near the bedside. These ominous words filled the mother's heart with terror, and she tremblingly clasped her babe closer to her breast, for the taper was nearly burned out and its extinction could not be very long delayed. The eldest Norn, however, had no intention of seeing her prediction thus set at naught; but as she could not force her sister to retract her words, she quickly seized the taper, put out the light, and giving the smoking stump to the child's mother, bade her carefully treasure it, and never light it again until her son was weary of life. "In the mansion it was night: The Norns came, Who should the prince's Life determine." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). The boy was named Nornagesta, in honour of the Norns, and grew up to be as beautiful, brave, and talented as any mother could wish. When he was old enough to comprehend the gravity of the trust his mother told him the story of the Norns' visit, and placed in his hands the candle end, which he treasured for many a year, placing it for safe-keeping inside the frame of his harp. When his parents were dead, Nornagesta wandered from place to place, taking part and distinguishing himself in every battle, singing his heroic lays wherever he went. As he was of an enthusiastic and poetic temperament, he did not soon weary of life, and while other heroes grew wrinkled and old, he remained young at heart and vigorous in frame. He therefore witnessed the stirring deeds of the heroic ages, was the boon companion of the ancient warriors, and after living three hundred years, saw the belief in the old heathen gods gradually supplanted by the teachings of Christian missionaries. Finally Nornagesta came to the court of King Olaf Tryggvesson, who, according to his usual custom, converted him almost by force, and compelled him to receive baptism. Then, wishing to convince his people that the time for superstition was past, the king forced the aged scald to produce and light the taper which he had so carefully guarded for more than three centuries. In spite of his recent conversion, Nornagesta anxiously watched the flame as it flickered, and when, finally, it went out, he sank lifeless to the ground, thus proving that in spite of the baptism just received, he still believed in the prediction of the Norns. In the middle ages, and even later, the Norns figure in many a story or myth, appearing as fairies or witches, as, for instance, in the tale of "the Sleeping Beauty," and Shakespeare's tragedy of Macbeth. "1st Witch. When shall we three meet again, In thunder, lightning, or in rain? 2nd Witch. When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won: 3rd Witch. That will be ere the set of sun." Macbeth (Shakespeare). The Vala Sometimes the Norns bore the name of Vala, or prophetesses, for they had the power of divination--a power which was held in great honour by all the Northern races, who believed that it was restricted to the female sex. The predictions of the Vala were never questioned, and it is said that the Roman general Drusus was so terrified by the appearance of Veleda, one of these prophetesses, who warned him not to cross the Elbe, that he actually beat a retreat. She foretold his approaching death, which indeed happened shortly after through a fall from his steed. These prophetesses, who were also known as Idises, Dises, or Hagedises, officiated at the forest shrines and in the sacred groves, and always accompanied invading armies. Riding ahead, or in the midst of the host, they would vehemently urge the warriors on to victory, and when the battle was over they would often cut the bloody-eagle upon the bodies of the captives. The blood was collected into great tubs, wherein the Dises plunged their naked arms up to the shoulders, previous to joining in the wild dance with which the ceremony ended. It is not to be wondered at that these women were greatly feared. Sacrifices were offered to propitiate them, and it was only in later times that they were degraded to the rank of witches, and sent to join the demon host on the Brocken, or Blocksberg, on Valpurgisnacht. Besides the Norns or Dises, who were also regarded as protective deities, the Northmen ascribed to each human being a guardian spirit named Fylgie, which attended him through life, either in human or brute shape, and was invisible except at the moment of death by all except the initiated few. The allegorical meaning of the Norns and of their web of fate is too patent to need explanation; still some mythologists have made them demons of the air, and state that their web was the woof of clouds, and that the bands of mists which they strung from rock to tree, and from mountain to mountain, were ruthlessly torn apart by the suddenly rising wind. Some authorities, moreover, declare that Skuld, the third Norn, was at times a Valkyr, and at others personated the goddess of death, the terrible Hel. CHAPTER XVIII: THE VALKYRS The Battle Maidens Odin's special attendants, the Valkyrs, or battle maidens, were either his daughters, like Brunhild, or the offspring of mortal kings, maidens who were privileged to remain immortal and invulnerable as long as they implicitly obeyed the god and remained virgins. They and their steeds were the personification of the clouds, their glittering weapons being the lightning flashes. The ancients imagined that they swept down to earth at Valfather's command, to choose among the slain in battle heroes worthy to taste the joys of Valhalla, and brave enough to lend aid to the gods when the great battle should be fought. "There through some battlefield, where men fall fast, Their horses fetlock-deep in blood, they ride, And pick the bravest warriors out for death, Whom they bring back with them at night to Heaven To glad the gods and feast in Odin's hall." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). These maidens were pictured as young and beautiful, with dazzling white arms and flowing golden hair. They wore helmets of silver or gold, and blood-red corselets, and with spears and shields glittering, they boldly charged through the fray on their mettlesome white steeds. These horses galloped through the realms of air and over the quivering Bifröst, bearing not only their fair riders, but the heroes slain, who after having received the Valkyrs' kiss of death, were thus immediately transported to Valhalla. The Cloud Steeds As the Valkyrs' steeds were personifications of the clouds, it was natural to fancy that the hoar frost and dew dropped down upon earth from their glittering manes as they rapidly dashed to and fro through the air. They were therefore held in high honour and regard, for the people ascribed to their beneficent influence much of the fruitfulness of the earth, the sweetness of dale and mountain-slope, the glory of the pines, and the nourishment of the meadow-land. Choosers of the Slain The mission of the Valkyrs was not only to battlefields upon earth, but they often rode over the sea, snatching the dying Vikings from their sinking dragon-ships. Sometimes they stood upon the strand to beckon them thither, an infallible warning that the coming struggle would be their last, and one which every Northland hero received with joy. "Slowly they moved to the billow side; And the forms, as they grew more clear, Seem'd each on a tall pale steed to ride, And a shadowy crest to rear, And to beckon with faint hand From the dark and rocky strand, And to point a gleaming spear. "Then a stillness on his spirit fell, Before th' unearthly train; For he knew Valhalla's daughters well, The chooser of the slain!" Valkyriur Song (Mrs. Hemans). Their Numbers and Duties The numbers of the Valkyrs differ greatly according to various mythologists, ranging from three to sixteen, most authorities, however, naming only nine. The Valkyrs were considered as divinities of the air; they were also called Norns, or wish maidens. It was said that Freya and Skuld led them on to the fray. "She saw Valkyries Come from afar, Ready to ride To the tribes of god; Skuld held the shield, Skaugul came next, Gunnr, Hildr, Gaundul, And Geir-skaugul. Thus now are told The Warrior's Norns." Sæmund's Edda (Henderson's tr.). The Valkyrs, as we have seen, had important duties in Valhalla, when, their bloody weapons laid aside, they poured out the heavenly mead for the Einheriar. This beverage delighted the souls of the new-comers, and they welcomed the fair maidens as warmly as when they had first seen them on the battlefield and realised that they had come to transport them where they fain would be. "In the shade now tall forms are advancing, And their wan hands like snowflakes in the moonlight are gleaming; They beckon, they whisper, 'Oh! strong Armed in Valour, The pale guests await thee--mead foams in Valhalla.'" Finn's Saga (Hewitt). Wayland and the Valkyrs The Valkyrs were supposed to take frequent flights to earth in swan plumage, which they would throw off when they came to a secluded stream, that they might indulge in a bath. Any mortal surprising them thus, and securing their plumage, could prevent them from leaving the earth, and could even force these proud maidens to mate with him if such were his pleasure. It is related that three of the Valkyrs, Olrun, Alvit, and Svanhvit, were once sporting in the waters, when suddenly the three brothers Egil, Slagfinn, and Völund, or Wayland the smith, came upon them, and securing their swan plumage, the young men forced them to remain upon earth and become their wives. The Valkyrs, thus detained, remained with their husbands nine years, but at the end of that time, recovering their plumage, or the spell being broken in some other way, they effected their escape. "There they stayed Seven winters through; But all the eighth Were with longing seized; And in the ninth Fate parted them. The maidens yearned For the murky wood, The young Alvit, Fate to fulfil." Lay of Völund (Thorpe's tr.). The brothers felt the loss of their wives extremely, and two of them, Egil and Slagfinn, putting on their snow shoes, went in search of their loved ones, disappearing in the cold and foggy regions of the North. The third brother, Völund, however, remained at home, knowing all search would be of no avail, and he found solace in the contemplation of a ring which Alvit had given him as a love-token, and he indulged the constant hope that she would return. As he was a very clever smith, and could manufacture the most dainty ornaments of silver and gold, as well as magic weapons which no blow could break, he now employed his leisure in making seven hundred rings exactly like the one which his wife had given him. These, when finished, he bound together; but one night, on coming home from the hunt, he found that some one had carried away one ring, leaving the others behind, and his hopes received fresh inspiration, for he told himself that his wife had been there and would soon return for good. That selfsame night, however, he was surprised in his sleep, and bound and made prisoner by Nidud, King of Sweden, who took possession of his sword, a choice weapon invested with magic powers, which he reserved for his own use, and of the love ring made of pure Rhine gold, which latter he gave to his only daughter, Bodvild. As for the unhappy Völund himself, he was led captive to a neighbouring island, where, after being hamstrung, in order that he should not escape, the king put him to the incessant task of forging weapons and ornaments for his use. He also compelled him to build an intricate labyrinth, and to this day a maze in Iceland is known as "Völund's house." Völund's rage and despair increased with every new insult offered him by Nidud, and night and day he thought upon how he might obtain revenge. Nor did he forget to provide for his escape, and during the pauses of his labour he fashioned a pair of wings similar to those his wife had used as a Valkyr, which he intended to don as soon as his vengeance had been accomplished. One day the king came to visit his captive, and brought him the stolen sword that he might repair it; but Völund cleverly substituted another weapon so exactly like the magic sword as to deceive the king when he came again to claim it. A few days later, Völund enticed the king's sons into his smithy and slew them, after which he cunningly fashioned drinking vessels out of their skulls, and jewels out of their eyes and teeth, bestowing these upon their parents and sister. "But their skulls Beneath the hair He in silver set, And to Nidud gave; And of their eyes Precious stones he formed, Which to Nidud's Wily wife he sent. But of the teeth Of the two Breast ornaments he made, And to Bödvild sent." Lay of Völund (Thorpe's tr.). The royal family did not suspect whence they came; and so these gifts were joyfully accepted. As for the poor youths, it was believed that they had drifted out to sea and had been drowned. Some time after this, Bodvild, wishing to have her ring repaired, also visited the smith's hut, where, while waiting, she unsuspectingly partook of a magic drug, which sent her to sleep and left her in Völund's power. His last act of vengeance accomplished, Völund immediately donned the wings which he had made in readiness for this day, and grasping his sword and ring he rose slowly in the air. Directing his flight to the palace, he perched there out of reach, and proclaimed his crimes to Nidud. The king, beside himself with rage, summoned Egil, Völund's brother, who had also fallen into his power, and bade him use his marvellous skill as an archer to bring down the impudent bird. Obeying a signal from Völund, Egil aimed for a protuberance under his wing where a bladder full of the young princes' blood was concealed, and the smith flew triumphantly away without hurt, declaring that Odin would give his sword to Sigmund--a prediction which was duly fulfilled. Völund then went to Alf-heim, where, if the legend is to be believed, he found his beloved wife, and lived happily again with her until the twilight of the gods. But, even in Alf-heim, this clever smith continued to ply his craft, and various suits of impenetrable armour, which he is said to have fashioned, are described in later heroic poems. Besides Balmung and Joyeuse, Sigmund's and Charlemagne's celebrated swords, he is reported to have fashioned Miming for his son Heime, and many other remarkable blades. "It is the mate of Miming Of all swerdes it is king, And Weland it wrought, Bitterfer it is hight." Anglo-Saxon Poetry (Coneybeare's tr.). There are countless other tales of swan maidens or Valkyrs, who are said to have consorted with mortals; but the most popular of all is that of Brunhild, the wife of Sigurd, a descendant of Sigmund and the most renowned of Northern heroes. William Morris, in "The Land East of the Sun and West of the Moon," gives a fascinating version of another of these Norse legends. The story is amongst the most charming of the collection in "The Earthly Paradise." Brunhild The story of Brunhild is to be found in many forms. Some versions describe the heroine as the daughter of a king taken by Odin to serve in his Valkyr band, others as chief of the Valkyrs and daughter of Odin himself. In Richard Wagner's story, "The Ring of the Nibelung," the great musician presents a particularly attractive, albeit a more modern conception of the chief Battle-Maiden, and her disobedience to the command of Odin when sent to summon the youthful Siegmund from the side of his beloved Sieglinde to the Halls of the Blessed. CHAPTER XIX: HEL Loki's Offspring Hel, goddess of death, was the daughter of Loki, god of evil, and of the giantess Angurboda, the portender of ill. She came into the world in a dark cave in Jötun-heim together with the serpent Iörmungandr and the terrible Fenris wolf, the trio being considered as the emblems of pain, sin, and death. "Now Loki comes, cause of all ill! Men and Æsir curse him still. Long shall the gods deplore, Even till Time be o'er, His base fraud on Asgard's hill. While, deep in Jotunheim, most fell, Are Fenrir, Serpent, and Dread Hel, Pain, Sin, and Death, his children three, Brought up and cherished; thro' them he Tormentor of the world shall be." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). In due time Odin became aware of the terrible brood which Loki was cherishing, and resolved, as we have already seen, to banish them from the face of the earth. The serpent was therefore cast into the sea, where his writhing was supposed to cause the most terrible tempests; the wolf Fenris was secured in chains, thanks to the dauntless Tyr; and Hel or Hela, the goddess of death, was hurled into the depths of Nifl-heim, where Odin gave her power over nine worlds. "Hela into Niflheim thou threw'st, And gav'st her nine unlighted worlds to rule, A queen, and empire over all the dead." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Hel's Kingdom in Nifl-heim This realm, which was supposed to be situated under the earth, could only be entered after a painful journey over the roughest roads in the cold, dark regions of the extreme North. The gate was so far from all human abode that even Hermod the swift, mounted upon Sleipnir, had to journey nine long nights ere he reached the river Giöll. This formed the boundary of Nifl-heim, over which was thrown a bridge of crystal arched with gold, hung on a single hair, and constantly guarded by the grim skeleton Mödgud, who made every spirit pay a toll of blood ere she would allow it to pass. "The bridge of glass hung on a hair Thrown o'er the river terrible,-- The Giöll, boundary of Hel. Now here the maiden Mödgud stood, Waiting to take the toll of blood,-- A maiden horrible to sight, Fleshless, with shroud and pall bedight." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The spirits generally rode or drove across this bridge on the horses or in the waggons which had been burned upon the funeral pyre with the dead to serve that purpose, and the Northern races were very careful to bind upon the feet of the departed a specially strong pair of shoes, called Hel-shoes, that they might not suffer during the long journey over rough roads. Soon after the Giallar bridge was passed, the spirit reached the Ironwood, where stood none but bare and iron-leafed trees, and, passing through it, reached Hel-gate, beside which the fierce, blood-stained dog Garm kept watch, cowering in a dark hole known as the Gnipa cave. This monster's rage could only be appeased by the offering of a Hel-cake, which never failed those who had ever given bread to the needy. "Loud bays Garm Before the Gnipa cave." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Within the gate, amid the intense cold and impenetrable darkness, was heard the seething of the great cauldron Hvergelmir, the rolling of the glaciers in the Elivagar and other streams of Hel, among which were the Leipter, by which solemn oaths were sworn, and the Slid, in whose turbid waters naked swords continually rolled. Further on in this gruesome place was Elvidner (misery), the hall of the goddess Hel, whose dish was Hunger. Her knife was Greed. "Idleness was the name of her man, Sloth of her maid, Ruin of her threshold, Sorrow of her bed, and Conflagration of her curtains." "Elvidner was Hela's hall. Iron-barred, with massive wall; Horrible that palace tall! Hunger was her table bare; Waste, her knife; her bed, sharp Care; Burning Anguish spread her feast; Bleached bones arrayed each guest; Plague and Famine sang their runes, Mingled with Despair's harsh tunes. Misery and Agony E'er in Hel's abode shall be!" Valhalla (J. C. Jones). This goddess had many different abodes for the guests who daily came to her, for she received not only perjurers and criminals of all kinds, but also those who were unfortunate enough to die without shedding blood. To her realm also were consigned those who died of old age or disease--a mode of decease which was contemptuously called "straw death," as the beds of the people were generally of that material. "Temper'd hard by frost, Tempest and toil their nerves, the sons of those Whose only terror was a bloodless death." Thomson. Ideas of the Future Life Although the innocent were treated kindly by Hel, and enjoyed a state of negative bliss, it is no wonder that the inhabitants of the North shrank from the thought of visiting her cheerless abode. And while the men preferred to mark themselves with the spear point, to hurl themselves down from a precipice, or to be burned ere life was quite extinct, the women did not shrink from equally heroic measures. In the extremity of their sorrow, they did not hesitate to fling themselves down a mountain side, or fall upon the swords which were given them at their marriage, so that their bodies might be burned with those whom they loved, and their spirits released to join them in the bright home of the gods. Further horrors, however, awaited those whose lives had been criminal or impure, these spirits being banished to Nastrond, the strand of corpses, where they waded in ice-cold streams of venom, through a cave made of wattled serpents, whose poisonous fangs were turned towards them. After suffering untold agonies there, they were washed down into the cauldron Hvergelmir, where the serpent Nidhug ceased for a moment gnawing the root of the tree Yggdrasil to feed upon their bones. "A hall standing Far from the sun In Nâströnd; Its doors are northward turned, Venom-drops fall In through its apertures; Entwined is that hall With serpents' backs. She there saw wading The sluggish streams Bloodthirsty men And perjurers, And him who the ear beguiles Of another's wife. There Nidhog sucks The corpses of the dead." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Pestilence and Famine Hel herself was supposed occasionally to leave her dismal abode to range the earth upon her three-legged white horse, and in times of pestilence or famine, if a part of the inhabitants of a district escaped, she was said to use a rake, and when whole villages and provinces were depopulated, as in the case of the historical epidemic of the Black Death, it was said that she had ridden with a broom. The Northern races further fancied that the spirits of the dead were sometimes allowed to revisit the earth and appear to their relatives, whose sorrow or joy affected them even after death, as is related in the Danish ballad of Aager and Else, where a dead lover bids his sweetheart smile, so that his coffin may be filled with roses instead of the clotted blood drops produced by her tears. "'Listen now, my good Sir Aager! Dearest bridegroom, all I crave Is to know how it goes with thee In that lonely place, the grave.' "'Every time that thou rejoicest, And art happy in thy mind, Are my lonely grave's recesses All with leaves of roses lined.' "'Every time that, love, thou grievest, And dost shed the briny flood, Are my lonely grave's recesses Filled with black and loathsome blood.'" Ballad of Aager and Else (Longfellow's tr.). CHAPTER XX: ÆGIR The God of the Sea Besides Niörd and Mimir, who were both ocean divinities, the one representing the sea near the coast and the other the primæval ocean whence all things were supposed to have sprung, the Northern races recognised another sea-ruler, called Ægir or Hler, who dwelt either in the cool depths of his liquid realm or had his abode on the Island of Lessoe, in the Cattegat, or Hlesey. "Beneath the watery dome, With crystalline splendour, In radiant grandeur, Upreared the sea-god's home. More dazzling than foam of the waves E'er glimmered and gleamed thro' deep caves The glistening sands of its floor, Like some placid lake rippled o'er." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Ægir (the sea), like his brothers Kari (the air) and Loki (fire), is supposed to have belonged to an older dynasty of the gods, for he ranked neither with the Æsir, the Vanas, the giants, dwarfs, or elves, but was considered omnipotent within his realm. He was supposed to occasion and quiet the great tempests which swept over the deep, and was generally represented as a gaunt old man, with long white beard and hair, and clawlike fingers ever clutching convulsively, as though he longed to have all things within his grasp. Whenever he appeared above the waves, it was only to pursue and overturn vessels, and to greedily drag them to the bottom of the sea, a vocation in which he was thought to take fiendish delight. The Goddess Ran Ægir was mated with his sister, the goddess Ran, whose name means "robber," and who was as cruel, greedy, and insatiable as her husband. Her favourite pastime was to lurk near dangerous rocks, whither she enticed mariners, and there spread her net, her most prized possession, when, having entangled the men in its meshes and broken their vessels on the jagged cliffs, she would calmly draw them down into her cheerless realm. "In the deep sea caves By the sounding shore, In the dashing waves When the wild storms roar, In her cold green bowers In the Northern fiords, She lurks and she glowers, She grasps and she hoards, And she spreads her strong net for her prey." Story of Siegfried (Baldwin). Ran was considered the goddess of death for all who perished at sea, and the Northern nations fancied that she entertained the drowned in her coral caves, where her couches were spread to receive them, and where the mead flowed freely as in Valhalla. The goddess was further supposed to have a great affection for gold, which was called the "flame of the sea," and was used to illuminate her halls. This belief originated with the sailors, and sprang from the striking phosphorescent gleam of the waves. To win Ran's good graces, the Northmen were careful to hide some gold about them whenever any special danger threatened them on the sea. "Gold, on sweetheart ramblings, Pow'rful is and pleasant; Who goes empty-handed Down to sea-blue Ran, Cold her kisses strike, and Fleeting her embrace is-- But we ocean's bride be- Troth with purest gold." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). The Waves Ægir and Ran had nine beautiful daughters, the Waves, or billow-maidens, whose snowy arms and bosoms, long golden hair, deep-blue eyes, and willowy, sensuous forms were fascinating in the extreme. These maidens delighted in sporting over the surface of their father's vast domain, clad lightly in transparent blue, white, or green veils. They were very moody and capricious, however, varying from playful to sullen and apathetic moods, and at times exciting one another almost to madness, tearing their hair and veils, flinging themselves recklessly upon their hard beds, the rocks, chasing one another with frantic haste, and shrieking aloud with joy or despair. But they seldom came out to play unless their brother, the Wind, were abroad, and according to his mood they were gentle and playful, or rough and boisterous. The Waves were generally supposed to go about in triplets, and were often said to play around the ships of vikings whom they favoured, smoothing away every obstacle from their course, and helping them to reach speedily their goals. "And Æger's daughters, in blue veils dight, The helm leap round, and urge it on its flight." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). Ægir's Brewing Kettle To the Anglo-Saxons the sea-god Ægir was known by the name of Eagor, and whenever an unusually large wave came thundering towards the shore, the sailors were wont to cry, as the Trent boatmen still do, "Look out, Eagor is coming!" He was also known by the name of Hler (the shelterer) among the Northern nations, and of Gymir (the concealer), because he was always ready to hide things in the depths of his realm, and could be depended upon not to reveal the secrets entrusted to his care. And, because the waters of the sea were frequently said to seethe and hiss, the ocean was often called Ægir's brewing kettle or vat. The god's two principal servants were Elde and Funfeng, emblems of the phosphorescence of the sea; they were noted for their quickness and they invariably waited upon the guests whom he invited to his banquets in the depths of the sea. Ægir sometimes left his realm to visit the Æsir in Asgard, where he was always royally entertained, and he delighted in Bragi's many tales of the adventures and achievements of the gods. Excited by these narratives, as also by the sparkling mead which accompanied them, the god on one occasion ventured to invite the Æsir to celebrate the harvest feast with him in Hlesey, where he promised to entertain them in his turn. Thor and Hymir Surprised at this invitation, one of the gods ventured to remind Ægir that they were accustomed to dainty fare; whereupon the god of the sea declared that as far as eating was concerned they need be in no anxiety, as he was sure that he could cater for the most fastidious appetites; but he confessed that he was not so confident about drink, as his brewing kettle was rather small. Hearing this, Thor immediately volunteered to procure a suitable kettle, and set out with Tyr to obtain it. The two gods journeyed east of the Elivagar in Thor's goat chariot, and leaving this at the house of the peasant Egil, Thialfi's father, they wended their way on foot to the dwelling of the giant Hymir, who was known to own a kettle one mile deep and proportionately wide. "There dwells eastward Of Elivagar The all-wise Hymir, At heaven's end. My sire, fierce of mood, A kettle owns, A capacious cauldron, A rast in depth." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Only the women were at home, however, and Tyr recognised in the elder--an ugly old hag with nine hundred heads--his own grandmother; while the younger, a beautiful young giantess, was, it appeared, his mother, and she received her son and his companion hospitably, and gave them to drink. After learning their errand, Tyr's mother bade the visitors hide under some huge kettles, which rested upon a beam at the end of the hall, for her husband Hymir was very hasty and often slew his would-be guests with a single baleful glance. The gods quickly followed her advice, and no sooner were they concealed than the old giant Hymir came in. When his wife told him that visitors had come, he frowned so portentously, and flashed such a wrathful look towards their hiding-place, that the rafter split and the kettles fell with a crash, and, except the largest, were all dashed to pieces. "In shivers flew the pillar At the Jötun's glance; The beam was first Broken in two. Eight kettles fell, But only one of them, A hard-hammered cauldron, Whole from the column." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). The giant's wife, however, prevailed upon her husband to welcome Tyr and Thor, and he slew three oxen for their refection; but great was his dismay to see the thunder-god eat two of these for his supper. Muttering that he would have to go fishing early the next morning to secure a breakfast for so voracious a guest, the giant retired to rest, and when at dawn the next day he went down to the shore, he was joined by Thor, who said that he had come to help him. The giant bade him secure his own bait, whereupon Thor coolly slew his host's largest ox, Himinbrioter (heaven-breaker), and cutting off its head, he embarked with it and proceeded to row far out to sea. In vain Hymir protested that his usual fishing-ground had been reached, and that they might encounter the terrible Midgard snake were they to venture any farther; Thor persistently rowed on, until he fancied they were directly above this monster. "On the dark bottom of the great salt lake, Imprisoned lay the giant snake, With naught his sullen sleep to break." Thor's Fishing, Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). Baiting his powerful hook with the ox head, Thor angled for Iörmungandr, while the giant meantime drew up two whales, which seemed to him to be enough for an early morning meal. He was about to propose to return, therefore, when Thor suddenly felt a jerk, and began pulling as hard as he could, for he knew by the resistance of his prey, and the terrible storm created by its frenzied writhings, that he had hooked the Midgard snake. In his determined efforts to force the snake to rise to the surface, Thor braced his feet so strongly against the bottom of the boat that he went through it and stood on the bed of the sea. After an indescribable struggle, the monster's terrible venom-breathing head appeared, and Thor, seizing his hammer, was about to annihilate it when the giant, frightened by the proximity of Iörmungandr, and fearing lest the boat should sink and he should become the monster's prey, cut the fishing-line, and thus allowed the snake to drop back like a stone to the bottom of the sea. "The knife prevails: far down beneath the main The serpent, spent with toil and pain, To the bottom sank again." Thor's Fishing, Oehlenschläger (Pigott's tr.). Angry with Hymir for his inopportune interference, Thor dealt him a blow with his hammer which knocked him overboard; but Hymir, undismayed, waded ashore, and met the god as he returned to the beach. Hymir then took both whales, his spoil of the sea, upon his back, to carry them to the house; and Thor, wishing also to show his strength, shouldered boat, oars, and fishing tackle, and followed him. Breakfast being disposed of, Hymir challenged Thor to prove his strength by breaking his beaker; but although the thunder-god threw it with irresistible force against stone pillars and walls, it remained whole and was not even bent. In obedience to a whisper from Tyr's mother, however, Thor suddenly hurled the vessel against the giant's forehead, the only substance tougher than itself, when it fell shattered to the ground. Hymir, having thus tested the might of Thor, told him he could have the kettle which the two gods had come to seek, but Tyr tried to lift it in vain, and Thor could raise it from the floor only after he had drawn his belt of strength to the very last hole. "Tyr twice assayed To move the vessel, Yet at each time Stood the kettle fast. Then Môdi's father By the brim grasped it, And trod through The dwelling's floor." Lay of Hymir (Thorpe's tr.) The wrench with which he finally pulled it up did great damage to the giant's house and his feet broke through the floor. As Tyr and Thor were departing, the latter with the huge pot clapped on his head in place of a hat, Hymir summoned his brother frost giants, and proposed that they should pursue and slay their inveterate foe. Turning round, Thor suddenly became aware of their pursuit, and, hurling Miölnir repeatedly at the giants, he slew them all ere they could overtake him. Tyr and Thor then resumed their journey back to Ægir, carrying the kettle in which he was to brew ale for the harvest feast. The physical explanation of this myth is, of course, a thunder storm (Thor), in conflict with the raging sea (the Midgard snake), and the breaking up of the polar ice (Hymir's goblet and floor) in the heat of summer. The gods now arrayed themselves in festive attire and proceeded joyfully to Ægir's feast, and ever after they were wont to celebrate the harvest home in his coral caves. "Then Vans and Æsir, mighty gods, Of earth and air, and Asgard, lords,-- Advancing with each goddess fair, A brilliant retinue most rare,-- Attending mighty Odin, swept Up wave-worn aisle in radiant march." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Unloved Divinities Ægir, as we have seen, ruled the sea with the help of the treacherous Ran. Both of these divinities were considered cruel by the Northern nations, who had much to suffer from the sea, which, surrounding them on all sides, ran far into the heart of their countries through the numerous fiords, and often swallowed the ships of their vikings, with all their warrior crews. Other Divinities of the Sea Besides these principal divinities of the sea, the Northern nations believed in mermen and mermaids, and many stories are related of mermaids who divested themselves for a brief while of swan plumage or seal-garments, which they left upon the beach to be found by mortals who were thus able to compel the fair maidens to remain on land. "She came through the waves when the fair moon shone (Drift o' the wave and foam o' the sea); She came where I walked on the sands alone, With a heart as light as a heart may be." L. E. R. There were also malignant marine monsters known as Nicors, from whose name has been derived the proverbial Old Nick. Many of the lesser water divinities had fish tails; the females bore the name of Undines, and the males of Stromkarls, Nixies, Necks, or Neckar. "Where in the marisches boometh the bittern, Nicker the Soul-less sits with his ghittern, Sits inconsolable, friendless and foeless, Wailing his destiny, Nicker the Soul-less." From Brother Fabian's Manuscript. In the middle ages these water spirits were believed sometimes to leave their native streams, to appear at village dances, where they were recognised by the wet hem of their garments. They often sat beside the flowing brook or river, playing on a harp, or singing alluring songs while combing out their long golden or green hair. "The Neck here his harp in the glass castle plays, And mermaidens comb out their green hair always, And bleach here their shining white clothes." Stagnelius (Keightley's tr.). The Nixies, Undines, and Stromkarls were particularly gentle and lovable beings, and were very anxious to obtain repeated assurances of their ultimate salvation. Many stories are told of priests or children meeting them playing by a stream, and taunting them with future damnation, which threat never failed to turn the joyful music into pitiful wails. Often priest or children, discovering their mistake, and touched by the agony of their victims, would hasten back to the stream and assure the green-toothed water sprites of future redemption, when they invariably resumed their happy strains. "Know you the Nixies, gay and fair? Their eyes are black, and green their hair-- They lurk in sedgy shores." Mathisson. River Nymphs Besides Elf or Elb, the water sprite who gave its name to the Elbe River in Germany, the Neck, from whom the Neckar derives its name, and old Father Rhine, with his numerous daughters (tributary streams), the most famous of all the lesser water divinities is the Lorelei, the siren maiden who sits upon the Lorelei rock near St. Goar, on the Rhine, and whose alluring song has enticed many a mariner to death. The legends concerning this siren are very numerous indeed, one of the most ancient being as follows: Legends of the Lorelei Lorelei was an immortal, a water nymph, daughter of Father Rhine; during the day she dwelt in the cool depths of the river bed, but late at night she would appear in the moonlight, sitting aloft upon a pinnacle of rock, in full view of all who passed up or down the stream. At times, the evening breeze wafted some of the notes of her song to the boatmen's ears, when, forgetting time and place in listening to these enchanting melodies, they drifted upon the sharp and jagged rocks, where they invariably perished. "Above the maiden sitteth, A wondrous form, and fair; With jewels bright she plaiteth Her shining golden hair: With comb of gold prepares it, The task with song beguiled; A fitful burden bears it-- That melody so wild. "The boatman on the river Lists to the song, spell-bound; Oh! what shall him deliver From danger threat'ning round? The waters deep have caught them, Both boat and boatman brave; 'Tis Loreley's song hath brought them Beneath the foaming wave." Song, Heine (Selcher's tr.). One person only is said to have seen the Lorelei close by. This was a young fisherman from Oberwesel, who met her every evening by the riverside, and spent a few delightful hours with her, drinking in her beauty and listening to her entrancing song. Tradition had it that ere they parted the Lorelei pointed out the places where the youth should cast his nets on the morrow--instructions which he always obeyed, and which invariably brought him success. One night the young fisherman was seen going towards the river, but as he never returned search was made for him. No clue to his whereabouts being found, the credulous Teutons finally reported that the Lorelei had dragged him down to her coral caves that she might enjoy his companionship for ever. According to another version, the Lorelei, with her entrancing strains from the craggy rocks, lured so many fishermen to a grave in the depths of Rhine, that an armed force was once sent at nightfall to surround and seize her. But the water nymph laid such a powerful spell upon the captain and his men that they could move neither hand nor foot. While they stood motionless around her, the Lorelei divested herself of her ornaments, and cast them into the waves below; then, chanting a spell, she lured the waters to the top of the crag upon which she was perched, and to the wonder of the soldiers the waves enclosed a sea-green chariot drawn by white-maned steeds, and the nymph sprang lightly into this and the magic equipage was instantly lost to view. A few moments later the Rhine subsided to its usual level, the spell was broken, and the men recovered power of motion, and retreated to tell how their efforts had been baffled. Since then, however, the Lorelei has not been seen, and the peasants declare that she still resents the insult offered her and will never again leave her coral caves. CHAPTER XXI: BALDER The Best Loved To Odin and Frigga, we are told, were born twin sons as dissimilar in character and physical appearance as it was possible for two children to be. Hodur, god of darkness, was sombre, taciturn, and blind, like the obscurity of sin, which he was supposed to symbolise, while his brother Balder, the beautiful, was worshipped as the pure and radiant god of innocence and light. From his snowy brow and golden locks seemed to radiate beams of sunshine which gladdened the hearts of gods and men, by whom he was equally beloved. "Of all the twelve round Odin's throne, Balder, the Beautiful, alone, The Sun-god, good, and pure, and bright, Was loved by all, as all love light." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The youthful Balder attained his full growth with marvellous rapidity, and was early admitted to the council of the gods. He took up his abode in the palace of Breidablik, whose silver roof rested upon golden pillars, and whose purity was such that nothing common or unclean was ever allowed within its precincts, and here he lived in perfect unity with his young wife Nanna (blossom), the daughter of Nip (bud), a beautiful and charming goddess. The god of light was well versed in the science of runes, which were carved on his tongue; he knew the various virtues of simples, one of which, the camomile, was called "Balder's brow," because its flower was as immaculately pure as his forehead. The only thing hidden from Balder's radiant eyes was the perception of his own ultimate fate. "His own house Breidablik, on whose columns Balder graved The enchantments that recall the dead to life. For wise he was, and many curious arts, Postures of runes, and healing herbs he knew; Unhappy! but that art he did not know, To keep his own life safe, and see the sun." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Balder's Dream As it was so natural for Balder the beautiful to be smiling and happy, the gods were greatly troubled when on a day they began to notice a change in his bearing. Gradually the light died out of his blue eyes, a careworn look came into his face, and his step grew heavy and slow. Odin and Frigga, seeing their beloved son's evident depression, tenderly implored him to reveal the cause of his silent grief. Balder, yielding at last to their anxious entreaties, confessed that his slumbers, instead of being peaceful and restful as of yore, had been strangely troubled of late by dark and oppressive dreams, which, although he could not clearly remember them when he awoke, constantly haunted him with a vague feeling of fear. "To that god his slumber Was most afflicting; His auspicious dreams Seemed departed." Lay of Vegtam (Thorpe's tr.). When Odin and Frigga heard this, they were very uneasy, but declared that nothing would harm their universally beloved son. Nevertheless, when the anxious parents further talked the matter over, they confessed that they also were oppressed by strange forebodings, and, coming at last to believe that Balder's life was really threatened, they proceeded to take measures to avert the danger. Frigga sent her servants in every direction, with strict charge to prevail upon all living creatures, all plants, metals, stones--in fact, every animate and inanimate thing--to register a solemn vow not to harm Balder. All creation readily took the oath, for there was nothing on earth which did not love the radiant god. So the servants returned to Frigga, telling her that all had been duly sworn save the mistletoe, growing upon the oak stem at the gate of Valhalla, and this, they added, was such a puny, inoffensive thing that no harm could be feared from it. "On a course they resolved: That they would send To every being, Assurance to solicit, Balder not to harm. All species swore Oaths to spare him; Frigg received all Their vows and compacts." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Frigga now resumed her spinning in great content, for she felt assured that no harm could come to the child she loved above all. The Vala's Prophecy Odin, in the meantime, had resolved to consult one of the dead Vala or prophetesses. Mounted upon his eight-footed steed Sleipnir, he rode over the tremulous bridge Bifröst and over the weary road which leads to Giallar and the entrance of Nifl-heim, where, passing through the Helgate and by the dog Garm, he penetrated into Hel's dark abode. "Uprose the king of men with speed, And saddled straight his coal-black steed; Down the yawning steep he rode, That leads to Hela's drear abode." Descent of Odin (Gray). Odin saw to his surprise that a feast was being spread in this dark realm, and that the couches had been covered with tapestry and rings of gold, as if some highly honoured guest were expected. But he hurried on without pausing, until he reached the spot where the Vala had rested undisturbed for many a year, when he began solemnly to chant a magic spell and to trace the runes which had the power of raising the dead. "Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread, The thrilling verse that wakes the dead: Till from out the hollow ground Slowly breath'd a sullen sound." Descent of Odin (Gray). Suddenly the tomb opened, and the prophetess slowly rose, inquiring who had dared thus to trouble her long rest. Odin, not wishing her to know that he was the mighty father of gods and men, replied that he was Vegtam, son of Valtam, and that he had awakened her to inquire for whom Hel was spreading her couches and preparing a festive meal. In hollow tones, the prophetess confirmed all his fears by telling him that the expected guest was Balder, who was destined to be slain by Hodur, his brother, the blind god of darkness. "Hodur will hither His glorious brother send; He of Balder will The slayer be, And Odin's son Of life bereave. By compulsion I have spoken; Now I will be silent." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Despite the Vala's evident reluctance to speak further, Odin was not yet satisfied, and he prevailed upon her to tell him who would avenge the murdered god and call his slayer to account. For revenge and retaliation were considered as a sacred duty by the races of the North. Then the prophetess told him, as Rossthiof had already predicted, that Rinda, the earth-goddess, would bear a son to Odin, and that Vali, as this child would be named, would neither wash his face nor comb his hair until he had avenged upon Hodur the death of Balder. "In the caverns of the west, By Odin's fierce embrace comprest, A wondrous boy shall Rinda bear, Who ne'er shall comb his raven hair, Nor wash his visage in the stream, Nor see the sun's departing beam, Till he on Hoder's corse shall smile Flaming on the fun'ral pile." Descent of Odin (Gray). When the reluctant Vala had thus spoken, Odin next asked: "Who would refuse to weep at Balder's death?" This incautious question showed a knowledge of the future which no mortal could possess, and immediately revealed to the Vala the identity of her visitor. Therefore, refusing to speak another word, she sank back into the silence of the tomb, declaring that none would be able to lure her out again until the end of the world was come. "Hie thee hence, and boast at home, That never shall inquirer come To break my iron sleep again, Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain; Never, till substantial Night Has reassum'd her ancient right: Till wrapt in flames, in ruin hurl'd, Sinks the fabric of the world." Descent of Odin (Gray). Odin having learned the decrees of Orlog (fate), which he knew could not be set aside, now remounted his steed, and sadly wended his way back to Asgard, thinking of the time, not far distant, when his beloved son would no more be seen in the heavenly abodes, and when the light of his presence would have vanished for ever. On entering Glads-heim, however, Odin was somewhat reassured by the intelligence, promptly conveyed to him by Frigga, that all things under the sun had promised that they would not harm Balder, and feeling convinced that if nothing would slay their beloved son he must surely continue to gladden gods and men with his presence, he cast care aside and resigned himself to the pleasures of the festive board. The Gods at Play The playground of the gods was situated on the green plain of Ida, and was called Idavold. Here the gods would resort when in sportive mood, and their favourite game was to throw their golden disks, which they could cast with great skill. They had returned to this wonted pastime with redoubled zest since the cloud which had oppressed their spirits had been dispersed by the precautions of Frigga. Wearied at last, however, of the accustomed sport, they bethought them of a new game. They had learned that Balder could not be harmed by any missile, and so they amused themselves by casting all manner of weapons, stones, etc., at him, certain that no matter how cleverly they tried, and how accurately they aimed, the objects, having sworn not to injure him, would either glance aside or fall short. This new amusement proved to be so fascinating that soon all the gods gathered around Balder, greeting each new failure to hurt him with prolonged shouts of laughter. The Death of Balder These bursts of merriment excited the curiosity of Frigga, who sat spinning in Fensalir; and seeing an old woman pass by her dwelling, she bade her pause and tell what the gods were doing to provoke such great hilarity. The old woman was none other than Loki in disguise, and he answered Frigga that the gods were throwing stones and other missiles, blunt and sharp, at Balder, who stood smiling and unharmed in their midst, challenging them to touch him. The goddess smiled, and resumed her work, saying that it was quite natural that nothing should harm Balder, as all things loved the light, of which he was the emblem, and had solemnly sworn not to injure him. Loki, the personification of fire, was greatly chagrined upon hearing this, for he was jealous of Balder, the sun, who so entirely eclipsed him and who was generally beloved, while he was feared and avoided as much as possible; but he cleverly concealed his vexation, and inquired of Frigga whether she were quite sure that all objects had joined the league. Frigga proudly answered that she had received the solemn oath of all things, a harmless little parasite, the mistletoe, which grew on the oak near Valhalla's gate, only excepted, and this was too small and weak to be feared. This information was all that Loki wanted, and bidding adieu to Frigga he hobbled off. As soon as he was safely out of sight, however, he resumed his wonted form and hastened to Valhalla, where, at the gate, he found the oak and mistletoe as indicated by Frigga. Then by the exercise of magic arts he imparted to the parasite a size and hardness quite unnatural to it. From the wooden stem thus produced he deftly fashioned a shaft with which he hastened back to Idavold, where the gods were still hurling missiles at Balder, Hodur alone leaning mournfully against a tree the while, and taking no part in the game. Carelessly Loki approached the blind god, and assuming an appearance of interest, he inquired the cause of his melancholy, at the same time artfully insinuating that pride and indifference prevented him from participating in the sport. In answer to these remarks, Hodur pleaded that only his blindness deterred him from taking part in the new game, and when Loki put the mistletoe-shaft in his hand, and led him into the midst of the circle, indicating the direction of the novel target, Hodur threw his shaft boldly. But to his dismay, instead of the loud laughter which he expected, a shuddering cry of horror fell upon his ear, for Balder the beautiful had fallen to the ground, pierced by the fatal mistletoe. "So on the floor lay Balder dead; and round Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears, Which all the Gods in sport had idly thrown At Balder, whom no weapon pierced or clove; But in his breast stood fixed the fatal bough Of mistletoe, which Lok, the Accuser, gave To Hoder, and unwitting Hoder threw-- 'Gainst that alone had Balder's life no charm." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). In dire anxiety the gods crowded around their beloved companion, but alas! life was quite extinct, and all their efforts to revive the fallen sun-god were unavailing. Inconsolable at their loss, they now turned angrily upon Hodur, whom they would there and then have slain had they not been restrained by the law of the gods that no wilful deed of violence should desecrate their peace-steads. The sound of their loud lamentation brought the goddesses in hot haste to the dreadful scene, and when Frigga saw that her darling was dead, she passionately implored the gods to go to Nifl-heim and entreat Hel to release her victim, for the earth could not exist happily without him. Hermod's Errand As the road was rough and painful in the extreme, none of the gods would volunteer at first to go; but when Frigga promised that she and Odin would reward the messenger by loving him above all the Æsir, Hermod signified his readiness to execute the commission. To enable him to do so, Odin lent him Sleipnir, and the noble steed, who was not wont to allow any but Odin upon his back, set off without demur upon the dark road which his hoofs had beaten twice before. Meantime, Odin caused the body of Balder to be removed to Breidablik, and he directed the gods to go to the forest and cut down huge pines wherewith to build a worthy pyre. "But when the Gods were to the forest gone, Hermod led Sleipnir from Valhalla forth And saddled him; before that, Sleipnir brook'd No meaner hand than Odin's on his mane, On his broad back no lesser rider bore; Yet docile now he stood at Hermod's side, Arching his neck, and glad to be bestrode, Knowing the God they went to seek, how dear. But Hermod mounted him, and sadly fared In silence up the dark untravell'd road Which branches from the north of Heaven, and went All day; and daylight waned, and night came on. And all that night he rode, and journey'd so, Nine days, nine nights, toward the northern ice, Through valleys deep-engulph'd by roaring streams. And on the tenth morn he beheld the bridge Which spans with golden arches Giall's stream, And on the bridge a damsel watching, arm'd, In the straight passage, at the further end, Where the road issues between walling rocks." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). The Funeral Pyre While Hermod was speeding along the cheerless road which led to Nifl-heim, the gods hewed and carried down to the shore a vast amount of fuel, which they piled upon the deck of Balder's dragon-ship, Ringhorn, constructing an elaborate funeral pyre. According to custom, this was decorated with tapestry hangings, garlands of flowers, vessels and weapons of all kinds, golden rings, and countless objects of value, ere the immaculate corpse, richly attired, was brought and laid upon it. One by one, the gods now drew near to take a last farewell of their beloved companion, and as Nanna bent over him, her loving heart broke, and she fell lifeless by his side. Seeing this, the gods reverently laid her beside her husband, that she might accompany him even in death; and after they had slain his horse and hounds and twined the pyre with thorns, the emblems of sleep, Odin, last of the gods, drew near. In token of affection for the dead and of sorrow for his loss, all had lain their most precious possessions upon his pyre, and Odin, bending down, now added to the offerings his magic ring Draupnir. It was noted by the assembled gods that he was whispering in his dead son's ear, but none were near enough to hear what word he said. These sad preliminaries ended, the gods now prepared to launch the ship, but found that the heavy load of fuel and treasures resisted their combined efforts and they could not make the vessel stir an inch. The mountain giants, witnessing the scene from afar, and noticing their quandary, now drew near and said that they knew of a giantess called Hyrrokin, who dwelt in Jötun-heim, and was strong enough to launch the vessel without any other aid. The gods therefore bade one of the storm giants hasten off to summon Hyrrokin, and she soon appeared, mounted upon a gigantic wolf, which she guided by a bridle made of writhing snakes. Riding down to the shore, the giantess dismounted and haughtily signified her readiness to give the required aid, if in the meantime the gods would take charge of her steed. Odin immediately despatched four of his maddest Berserkers to hold the wolf; but, in spite of their phenomenal strength, they could not restrain the monstrous creature until the giantess had thrown it down and bound it fast. Hyrrokin, seeing that now they would be able to manage her refractory steed, strode along the strand to where, high up from the water's edge, lay Balder's mighty ship Ringhorn. "Seventy ells and four extended On the grass the vessel's keel; High above it, gilt and splendid, Rose the figure-head ferocious With its crest of steel." The Saga of King Olaf (Longfellow). Setting her shoulder against its stern, with a supreme effort she sent it with a rush into the water. Such was the weight of the mass, however, and the rapidity with which it shot down into the sea, that the earth shook as if from an earthquake, and the rollers on which the ship glided caught fire from the friction. The unexpected shock almost caused the gods to lose their balance, and this so angered Thor that he raised his hammer and would have slain the giantess had he not been restrained by his companions. Easily appeased, as usual--for Thor's temper, although quickly roused, was evanescent--he now boarded the vessel once more to consecrate the funeral pyre with his sacred hammer. As he was performing this ceremony, the dwarf Lit provokingly stumbled into his way, whereupon Thor, who had not entirely recovered his equanimity, kicked him into the fire, which he had just kindled with a thorn, and the dwarf was burned to ashes with the bodies of the divine pair. The great ship now drifted out to sea, and the flames from the pyre presented a magnificent spectacle, which assumed a greater glory with every passing moment, until, when the vessel neared the western horizon, it seemed as if sea and sky were on fire. Sadly the gods watched the glowing ship and its precious freight, until suddenly it plunged into the waves and disappeared; nor did they turn aside and return to Asgard until the last spark of light had vanished, and the world, in token of mourning for Balder the good, was enveloped in a mantle of darkness. "Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire, And the pile crackled; and between the logs Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt Curling and darting, higher, until they lick'd The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast, And ate the shrivelling sails; but still the ship Drove on, ablaze above her hull with fire. And the gods stood upon the beach, and gazed; And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on. Then the wind fell with night, and there was calm; But through the dark they watch'd the burning ship Still carried o'er the distant waters, on Farther and farther, like an eye of fire. So show'd in the far darkness, Balder's pile; But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared; The bodies were consumed, ash choked the pile. And as, in a decaying winter fire, A charr'd log, falling, makes a shower of sparks-- So, with a shower of sparks, the pile fell in, Reddening the sea around; and all was dark." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Hermod's Quest Sadly the gods entered Asgard, where no sounds of merriment or feasting greeted the ear, for all hearts were filled with anxious concern for the end of all things which was felt to be imminent. And truly the thought of the terrible Fimbul-winter, which was to herald their death, was one well calculated to disquiet the gods. Frigga alone cherished hope, and she watched anxiously for the return of her messenger, Hermod the swift, who, meanwhile, had ridden over the tremulous bridge, and along the dark Hel-way, until, on the tenth night, he had crossed the rushing tide of the river Giöll. Here he was challenged by Mödgud, who inquired why the Giallar-bridge trembled more beneath his horse's tread than when a whole army passed, and asked why he, a living rider, was attempting to penetrate into the dreaded realm of Hel. "Who art thou on thy black and fiery horse, Under whose hoofs the bridge o'er Giall's stream Rumbles and shakes? Tell me thy race and home. But yestermorn five troops of dead pass'd by, Bound on their way below to Hela's realm, Nor shook the bridge so much as thou alone. And thou hast flesh and colour on thy cheeks, Like men who live, and draw the vital air; Nor look'st thou pale and wan, like man deceased, Souls bound below, my daily passers here." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Hermod explained to Mödgud the reason of his coming, and, having ascertained that Balder and Nanna had ridden over the bridge before him, he hastened on, until he came to the gate, which rose forbiddingly before him. Nothing daunted by this barrier, Hermod dismounted on the smooth ice, and tightening the girths of his saddle, remounted, and burying his spurs deep into Sleipnir's sleek sides, he put him to a prodigious leap, which landed them safely on the other side of Hel-gate. "Thence on he journey'd o'er the fields of ice Still north, until he met a stretching wall Barring his way, and in the wall a grate. Then he dismounted, and drew tight the girths, On the smooth ice, of Sleipnir, Odin's horse, And made him leap the grate, and came within." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). Riding onward, Hermod came at last to Hel's banqueting-hall, where he found Balder, pale and dejected, lying upon a couch, his wife Nanna beside him, gazing fixedly at a beaker of mead, which apparently he had no heart to quaff. The Condition of Balder's Release In vain Hermod informed his brother that he had come to redeem him; Balder shook his head sadly, saying that he knew he must remain in his cheerless abode until the last day should come, but he implored Hermod to take Nanna back with him, as the home of the shades was no place for such a bright and beautiful creature. But when Nanna heard this request she clung more closely to her husband's side, vowing that nothing would ever induce her to part from him, and that she would stay with him for ever, even in Nifl-heim. The long night was spent in close conversation, ere Hermod sought Hel and implored her to release Balder. The churlish goddess listened in silence to his request, and declared finally that she would allow her victim to depart provided that all things animate and inanimate would show their sorrow for his loss by shedding tears. "Come then! if Balder was so dear beloved, And this is true, and such a loss is Heaven's-- Hear, how to Heaven may Balder be restored. Show me through all the world the signs of grief! Fails but one thing to grieve, here Balder stops! Let all that lives and moves upon the earth Weep him, and all that is without life weep; Let Gods, men, brutes, beweep him; plants and stones. So shall I know the lost was dear indeed, And bend my heart, and give him back to Heaven." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). This answer was full of encouragement, for all Nature mourned the loss of Balder, and surely there was nothing in all creation which would withhold the tribute of a tear. So Hermod cheerfully made his way out of Hel's dark realm, carrying with him the ring Draupnir, which Balder sent back to Odin, an embroidered carpet from Nanna for Frigga, and a ring for Fulla. The Return of Hermod The assembled gods crowded anxiously round Hermod as soon as he returned, and when he had delivered his messages and gifts, the Æsir sent heralds to every part of the world to bid all things animate and inanimate weep for Balder. "Go quickly forth through all the world, and pray All living and unliving things to weep Balder, if haply he may thus be won!" Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). North, South, East and West rode the heralds, and as they passed tears fell from every plant and tree, so that the ground was saturated with moisture, and metals and stones, despite their hard hearts, wept too. The way at last led back to Asgard, and by the road-side was a dark cave, in which the messengers saw, crouching, the form of a giantess named Thok, whom some mythologists suppose to have been Loki in disguise. When she was called upon to shed a tear, she mocked the heralds, and fleeing into the dark recesses of her cave, she declared that no tear should fall from her eyes, and that, for all she cared, Hel might retain her prey for ever. "Thok she weepeth With dry tears For Balder's death-- Neither in life, nor yet in death, Gave he me gladness. Let Hel keep her prey." Elder Edda (Howitt's version). As soon as the returning messengers arrived in Asgard, the gods crowded round them to learn the result of their mission; but their faces, all aglow with the joy of anticipation, grew dark with despair when they heard that one creature had refused the tribute of tears, wherefore they would behold Balder in Asgard no more. "Balder, the Beautiful, shall ne'er From Hel return to upper air! Betrayed by Loki, twice betrayed, The prisoner of Death is made; Ne'er shall he 'scape the place of doom Till fatal Ragnarok be come!" Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Vali the Avenger The decrees of fate had not yet been fully consummated, and the final act of the tragedy remains to be briefly stated. We have already seen how Odin succeeded after many rebuffs in securing the consent of Rinda to their union, and that the son born of this marriage was destined to avenge the death of Balder. The advent of this wondrous infant now took place, and Vali the Avenger, as he was called, entered Asgard on the day of his birth, and on that very same day he slew Hodur with an arrow from a bundle which he seems to have carried for the purpose. Thus the murderer of Balder, unwitting instrument though he was, atoned for the crime with his blood, according to the code of the true Norseman. The Signification of the Story The physical explanation of this myth is to be found either in the daily setting of the sun (Balder), which sinks beneath the western waves, driven away by darkness (Hodur), or in the ending of the short Northern summer and the long reign of the winter season. "Balder represents the bright and clear summer, when twilight and daylight kiss each other and go hand in hand in these Northern latitudes." "Balder's pyre, of the sun a mark, Holy hearth red staineth; Yet, soon dies its last faint spark, Darkly then Hoder reigneth." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). "His death by Hodur is the victory of darkness over light, the darkness of winter over the light of summer; and the revenge by Vali is the breaking forth of new light after the wintry darkness." Loki, the fire, is jealous of Balder, the pure light of heaven, who alone among the Northern gods never fought, but was always ready with words of conciliation and peace. "But from thy lips, O Balder, night or day, Heard no one ever an injurious word To God or Hero, but thou keptest back The others, labouring to compose their brawls." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). The tears shed by all things for the beloved god are symbolical of the spring thaw, setting in after the hardness and cold of winter, when every tree and twig, and even the stones drip with moisture; Thok (coal) alone shows no sign of tenderness, as she is buried deep within the dark earth and needs not the light of the sun. "And as in winter, when the frost breaks up, At winter's end, before the spring begins, And a warm west wind blows, and thaw sets in-- After an hour a dripping sound is heard In all the forests, and the soft-strewn snow Under the trees is dibbled thick with holes, And from the boughs the snow loads shuffle down; And, in fields sloping to the south, dark plots Of grass peep out amid surrounding snow, And widen, and the peasant's heart is glad-- So through the world was heard a dripping noise Of all things weeping to bring Balder back; And there fell joy upon the Gods to hear." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). From the depths of their underground prison, the sun (Balder) and vegetation (Nanna) try to cheer heaven (Odin) and earth (Frigga) by sending them the ring Draupnir, the emblem of fertility, and the flowery tapestry, symbolical of the carpet of verdure which will again deck the earth and enhance her charms with its beauty. The ethical signification of the myth is no less beautiful, for Balder and Hodur are symbols of the conflicting forces of good and evil, while Loki impersonates the tempter. "But in each human soul we find That night's dark Hoder, Balder's brother blind, Is born and waxeth strong as he; For blind is ev'ry evil born, as bear cubs be, Night is the cloak of evil; but all good Hath ever clad in shining garments stood. The busy Loke, tempter from of old, Still forward treads incessant, and doth hold The blind one's murder hand, whose quick-launch'd spear Pierceth young Balder's breast, that sun of Valhal's sphere!" Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). The Worship of Balder One of the most important festivals was held at the summer solstice, or midsummer's eve, in honour of Balder the good, for it was considered the anniversary of his death and of his descent into the lower world. On that day, the longest in the year, the people congregated out of doors, made great bonfires, and watched the sun, which in extreme Northern latitudes barely dips beneath the horizon ere it rises upon a new day. From midsummer, the days gradually grow shorter, and the sun's rays less warm, until the winter solstice, which was called the "Mother night," as it was the longest night in the year. Midsummer's eve, once celebrated in honour of Balder, is now called St. John's day, that saint having entirely supplanted Balder the good. CHAPTER XXII: LOKI The Spirit of Evil Besides the hideous giant Utgard-Loki, the personification of mischief and evil, whom Thor and his companions visited in Jötun-heim, the ancient Northern nations had another type of sin, whom they called Loki also, and whom we have already seen under many different aspects. In the beginning, Loki was merely the personification of the hearth fire and of the spirit of life. At first a god, he gradually becomes "god and devil combined," and ends in being held in general detestation as an exact counterpart of the mediæval Lucifer, the prince of lies, "the originator of deceit, and the back-biter" of the Æsir. By some authorities Loki was said to be the brother of Odin, but others assert that the two were not related, but had merely gone through the form of swearing blood brotherhood common in the North. "Odin! dost thou remember When we in early days Blended our blood together? When to taste beer Thou did'st constantly refuse Unless to both 'twas offered?" Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Loki's Character While Thor is the embodiment of Northern activity, Loki represents recreation, and the close companionship early established between these two gods shows very plainly how soon our ancestors realised that both were necessary to the welfare of mankind. Thor is ever busy and ever in earnest, but Loki makes fun of everything, until at last his love of mischief leads him entirely astray, and he loses all love for goodness and becomes utterly selfish and malevolent. He represents evil in the seductive and seemingly beautiful form in which it parades through the world. Because of this deceptive appearance the gods did not at first avoid him, but treated him as one of themselves in all good-fellowship, taking him with them wherever they went, and admitting him not only to their merry-makings, but also to their council hall, where, unfortunately, they too often listened to his advice. As we have already seen, Loki played a prominent part in the creation of man, endowing him with the power of motion, and causing the blood to circulate freely through his veins, whereby he was inspired with passions. As personification of fire as well as of mischief, Loki (lightning) is often seen with Thor (thunder), whom he accompanies to Jötun-heim to recover his hammer, to Utgard-Loki's castle, and to Geirrod's house. It is he who steals Freya's necklace and Sif's hair, and betrays Idun into the power of Thiassi; and although he sometimes gives the gods good advice and affords them real help, it is only to extricate them from some predicament into which he has rashly inveigled them. Some authorities declare that, instead of making part of the creative trilogy (Odin, Hoenir, and Lodur or Loki), this god originally belonged to a pre-Odinic race of deities, and was the son of the great giant Fornjotnr (Ymir), his brothers being Kari (air) and Hler (water), and his sister Ran, the terrible goddess of the sea. Other mythologists, however, make him the son of the giant Farbauti, who has been identified with Bergelmir, the sole survivor of the deluge, and of Laufeia (leafy isle) or Nal (vessel), his mother, thus stating that his connection with Odin was only that of the Northern oath of good-fellowship. Loki (fire) first married Glut (glow), who bore him two daughters, Eisa (embers) and Einmyria (ashes); it is therefore very evident that Norsemen considered him emblematic of the hearth-fire, and when the flaming wood crackles on the hearth the goodwives in the North are still wont to say that Loki is beating his children. Besides this wife, Loki is also said to have wedded the giantess Angur-boda (the anguish-boding), who dwelt in Jötun-heim, and who, as we have already seen, bore him the three monsters: Hel, goddess of death, the Midgard snake Iörmungandr, and the grim wolf Fenris. "Loki begat the wolf With Angur-boda." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Sigyn Loki's third marriage was with Sigyn, who proved a most loving and devoted wife, and bore him two sons, Narve and Vali, the latter a namesake of the god who avenged Balder. Sigyn was always faithful to her husband, and did not forsake him even after he had definitely been cast out of Asgard and confined in the bowels of the earth. As Loki was the embodiment of evil in the minds of the Northern races, they entertained nothing but fear of him, built no temples to his honour, offered no sacrifices to him, and designated the most noxious weeds by his name. The quivering, overheated atmosphere of summer was supposed to betoken his presence, for the people were then wont to remark that Loki was sowing his wild oats, and when the sun appeared to be drawing water they said Loki was drinking. The story of Loki is so inextricably woven with that of the other gods that most of the myths relating to him have already been told, and there remain but two episodes of his life to relate, one showing his better side before he had degenerated into the arch deceiver, and the other illustrating how he finally induced the gods to defile their peace-steads by wilful murder. Skrymsli and the Peasant's Child A giant and a peasant were playing a game together one day (probably a game of chess, which was a favourite winter pastime with the Northern vikings). They of course had determined to play for certain stakes, and the giant, being victorious, won the peasant's only son, whom he said he would come and claim on the morrow unless the parents could hide him so cleverly that he could not be found. Knowing that such a feat would be impossible for them to perform, the parents fervently prayed to Odin to help them, and in answer to their entreaties the god came down to earth, and changed the boy into a tiny grain of wheat, which he hid in an ear of grain in the midst of a large field, declaring that the giant would not be able to find him. The giant Skrymsli, however, possessed wisdom far beyond what Odin imagined, and, failing to find the child at home, he strode off immediately to the field with his scythe, and mowing the wheat he selected the particular ear where the boy was hidden. Counting over the grains of wheat he was about to lay his hand upon the right one when Odin, hearing the child's cry of distress, snatched the kernel out of the giant's hand, and restored the boy to his parents, telling them that he had done all in his power to help them. But as the giant vowed he had been cheated, and would again claim the boy on the morrow unless the parents could outwit him, the unfortunate peasants now turned to Hoenir for aid. The god heard them graciously and changed the boy into a fluff of down, which he hid in the breast of a swan swimming in a pond close by. Now when, a few minutes later, Skrymsli came up, he guessed what had occurred, and seizing the swan, he bit off its neck, and would have swallowed the down had not Hoenir wafted it away from his lips and out of reach, restoring the boy safe and sound to his parents, but telling them that he could not further aid them. Skrymsli warned the parents that he would make a third attempt to secure the child, whereupon they applied in their despair to Loki, who carried the boy out to sea, and concealed him, as a tiny egg, in the roe of a flounder. Returning from his expedition, Loki encountered the giant near the shore, and seeing that he was bent upon a fishing excursion, he insisted upon accompanying him. He felt somewhat uneasy lest the terrible giant should have seen through his device, and therefore thought it would be well for him to be on the spot in case of need. Skrymsli baited his hook, and was more or less successful in his angling, when suddenly he drew up the identical flounder in which Loki had concealed his little charge. Opening the fish upon his knee, the giant proceeded to minutely examine the roe, until he found the egg which he was seeking. The plight of the boy was certainly perilous, but Loki, watching his chance, snatched the egg out of the giant's grasp, and transforming it again into the child, he instructed him secretly to run home, passing through the boathouse on his way and closing the door behind him. The terrified boy did as he was told immediately he found himself on land, and the giant, quick to observe his flight, dashed after him into the boathouse. Now Loki had cunningly placed a sharp spike in such a position that the great head of the giant ran full tilt against it, and he sank to the ground with a groan, whereupon Loki, seeing him helpless, cut off one of his legs. Imagine the god's dismay, however, when he saw the pieces join and immediately knit together. But Loki was a master of guile, and recognising this as the work of magic, he cut off the other leg, promptly throwing flint and steel between the severed limb and trunk, and thereby hindering any further sorcery. The peasants were immensely relieved to find that their enemy was slain, and ever after they considered Loki the mightiest of all the heavenly council, for he had delivered them effectually from their foe, while the other gods had lent only temporary aid. The Giant Architect Notwithstanding their wonderful bridge Bifröst, the tremulous way, and the watchfulness of Heimdall, the gods could not feel entirely secure in Asgard, and were often fearful lest the frost giants should make their way into Asgard. To obviate this possibility, they finally decided to build an impregnable fortress; and while they were planning how this could be done, an unknown architect came with an offer to undertake the construction, provided the gods would give him sun, moon, and Freya, goddess of youth and beauty, as reward. The gods were wroth at so presumptuous an offer, but when they would have indignantly driven the stranger from their presence, Loki urged them to make a bargain which it would be impossible for the stranger to keep, and so they finally told the architect that the guerdon should be his, provided the fortress were finished in the course of a single winter, and that he accomplished the work with no other assistance than that of his horse Svadilfare. "To Asgard came an architect, And castle offered to erect,-- A castle high Which should defy Deep Jotun guile and giant raid; And this most wily compact made: Fair Freya, with the Moon and Sun, As price the fortress being done." Valhalla (J.C. Jones). The unknown architect agreed to these seemingly impossible conditions, and immediately set to work, hauling ponderous blocks of stone by night, building during the day, and progressing so rapidly that the gods began to feel somewhat anxious. Ere long they noticed that more than half the labour was accomplished by the wonderful steed Svadilfare, and when they saw, near the end of winter, that the work was finished save only one portal, which they knew the architect could easily erect during the night: "Horror and fear the gods beset; Finished almost the castle stood! In three days more The work be o'er; Then must they make their contract good, And pay the awful debt." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). Terrified lest they should be called upon to part, not only with the sun and moon, but also with Freya, the personification of the youth and beauty of the world, the gods turned upon Loki, and threatened to kill him unless he devised some means of hindering the architect from finishing the work within the specified time. Loki's cunning proved once more equal to the situation. He waited until nightfall of the final day, when, as Svadilfare passed the fringe of a forest, painfully dragging one of the great blocks of stone required for the termination of the work, he rushed out from a dark glade in the guise of a mare, and neighed so invitingly that, in a trice, the horse kicked himself free of his harness and ran after the mare, closely pursued by his angry master. The mare galloped swiftly on, artfully luring horse and master deeper and deeper into the forest shades, until the night was nearly gone, and it was no longer possible to finish the work. The architect was none other than a redoubtable Hrim-thurs, in disguise, and he now returned to Asgard in a towering rage at the fraud which had been practised upon him. Assuming his wonted proportions, he would have annihilated the gods had not Thor suddenly returned from a journey and slain him with his magic hammer Miölnir, which he hurled with terrific force full in his face. The gods had saved themselves on this occasion only by fraud and by the violent deed of Thor, and these were destined to bring great sorrow upon them, and eventually to secure their downfall, and to hasten the coming of Ragnarok. Loki, however, felt no remorse for his part, and in due time, it is said, he became the parent of an eight-footed steed called Sleipnir, which, as we have seen, was Odin's favourite mount. "But Sleipnir he begat With Svadilfari." Lay of Hyndla (Thorpe's tr.). Loki performed so many evil deeds during his career that he richly deserved the title of "arch deceiver" which was given him. He was generally hated for his subtle malicious ways, and for an inveterate habit of prevarication which won for him also the title of "prince of lies." Loki's last Crime Loki's last crime, and the one which filled his measure of iniquity, was to induce Hodur to throw the fatal mistletoe at Balder, whom he hated merely on account of his immaculate purity. Perhaps even this crime might have been condoned had it not been for his obduracy when, in the disguise of the old woman Thok, he was called upon to shed a tear for Balder. His action on this occasion convinced the gods that nothing but evil remained within him, and they pronounced unanimously upon him the sentence of perpetual banishment from Asgard. Ægir's Banquet To divert the gods' sadness and make them, for a short time, forget the treachery of Loki and the loss of Balder, Ægir, god of the sea, invited them to partake of a banquet in his coral caves at the bottom of the sea. "Now, to assuage the high gods' grief And bring their mourning some relief, From coral caves 'Neath ocean waves, Mighty King Ægir Invited the Æsir To festival In Hlesey's hall; That, tho' for Baldur every guest Was grieving yet, He might forget Awhile his woe in friendly feast." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The gods gladly accepted the invitation, and clad in their richest garb, and with festive smiles, they appeared in the coral caves at the appointed time. None were absent save the radiant Balder, for whom many a regretful sigh was heaved, and the evil Loki, whom none could regret. In the course of the feast, however, this last-named god appeared in their midst like a dark shadow, and when bidden to depart, he gave vent to his evil passions in a torrent of invective against the gods. "Of the Æsir and the Alfar That are here within Not one has a friendly word for thee." Ægir's Compotation, or Loki's Altercation (Thorpe's tr.). Then, jealous of the praises which Funfeng, Ægir's servant, had won for the dexterity with which he waited upon his master's guests, Loki suddenly turned upon him and slew him. At this wanton crime, the gods in fierce wrath drove Loki away once more, threatening him with dire punishment should he ever appear before them again. Scarcely had the Æsir recovered from this disagreeable interruption to their feast, and resumed their places at the board, when Loki came creeping in once more, resuming his slanders with venomous tongue, and taunting the gods with their weaknesses or shortcomings, dwelling maliciously upon their physical imperfections, and deriding them for their mistakes. In vain the gods tried to stem his abuse; his voice rose louder and louder, and he was just giving utterance to some base slander about Sif, when he was suddenly cut short by the sight of Thor's hammer, angrily brandished by an arm whose power he knew full well, and he fled incontinently. "Silence, thou impure being! My mighty hammer, Miöllnir, Shall stop thy prating. I will thy head From thy neck strike; Then will thy life be ended." Ægir's Compotation, or Loki's Altercation (Thorpe's tr.). The Pursuit of Loki Knowing that he could now have no hope of being admitted into Asgard again, and that sooner or later the gods, seeing the effect of his evil deeds, would regret having permitted him to roam the world, and would try either to bind or slay him, Loki withdrew to the mountains, where he built himself a hut, with four doors which he always left wide open to permit of a hasty escape. Carefully laying his plans, he decided that if the gods should come in search of him he would rush down to the neighbouring cataract, according to tradition the Fraananger force or stream, and, changing himself into a salmon, would thus evade his pursuers. He reasoned, however, that although he could easily avoid any hook, it might be difficult for him to effect his escape if the gods should fashion a net like that of the sea-goddess Ran. Haunted by this fear, he decided to test the possibility of making such a mesh, and started to make one out of twine. He was still engaged upon the task when Odin, Kvasir, and Thor suddenly appeared in the distance; and knowing that they had discovered his retreat, Loki threw his half-finished net into the fire, and, rushing through one of his ever-open doors, he leaped into the waterfall, where, in the shape of a salmon, he hid among some stones in the bed of the stream. The gods, finding the hut empty, were about to depart, when Kvasir perceived the remains of the burnt net on the hearth. After some thought an inspiration came to him, and he advised the gods to weave a similar implement and use it in searching for their foe in the neighbouring stream, since it would be like Loki to choose such a method of baffling their pursuit. This advice seemed good and was immediately followed, and, the net finished, the gods proceeded to drag the stream. Loki eluded the net at its first cast by hiding at the bottom of the river between two stones; and when the gods weighted the mesh and tried a second time, he effected his escape by jumping up stream. A third attempt to secure him proved successful, however, for, as he once more tried to get away by a sudden leap, Thor caught him in mid-air and held him so fast, that he could not escape. The salmon, whose slipperiness is proverbial in the North, is noted for its remarkably slim tail, and Norsemen attribute this to Thor's tight grasp upon his foe. Loki's Punishment Loki now sullenly resumed his wonted shape, and his captors dragged him down into a cavern, where they made him fast, using as bonds the entrails of his son Narve, who had been torn to pieces by Vali, his brother, whom the gods had changed into a wolf for the purpose. One of these fetters was passed under Loki's shoulders, and one under his loins, thereby securing him firmly hand and foot; but the gods, not feeling quite satisfied that the strips, tough and enduring though they were, would not give way, changed them into adamant or iron. "Thee, on a rock's point, With the entrails of thy ice-cold son, The gods will bind." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Skadi, the giantess, a personification of the cold mountain stream, who had joyfully watched the fettering of her foe (subterranean fire), now fastened a serpent directly over his head, so that its venom would fall, drop by drop, upon his upturned face. But Sigyn, Loki's faithful wife, hurried with a cup to his side, and until the day of Ragnarok she remained by him, catching the drops as they fell, and never leaving her post except when her vessel was full, and she was obliged to empty it. Only during her short absences could the drops of venom fall upon Loki's face, and then they caused such intense pain that he writhed with anguish, his efforts to get free shaking the earth and producing the earthquakes which so frighten mortals. "Ere they left him in his anguish, O'er his treacherous brow, ungrateful, Skadi hung a serpent hateful, Venom drops for aye distilling, Every nerve with torment filling; Thus shall he in horror languish. By him, still unwearied kneeling, Sigyn at his tortured side,-- Faithful wife! with beaker stealing Drops of venom as they fall,-- Agonising poison all! Sleepless, changeless, ever dealing Comfort, will she still abide; Only when the cup's o'erflowing Must fresh pain and smarting cause, Swift, to void the beaker going, Shall she in her watching pause. Then doth Loki Loudly cry; Shrieks of terror, Groans of horror, Breaking forth in thunder peals With his writhings scared Earth reels. Trembling and quaking, E'en high Heav'n shaking! So wears he out his awful doom, Until dread Ragnarok be come." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). In this painful position Loki was destined to remain until the twilight of the gods, when his bonds would be loosed, and he would take part in the fatal conflict on the battlefield of Vigrid, falling at last by the hand of Heimdall, who would be slain at the same time. As we have seen, the venom-dropping snake in this myth is the cold mountain stream, whose waters, falling from time to time upon subterranean fire, evaporate in steam, which escapes through fissures, and causes earthquakes and geysers, phenomena with which the inhabitants of Iceland, for instance, were very familiar. Loki's Day When the gods were reduced to the rank of demons by the introduction of Christianity, Loki was confounded with Saturn, who had also been shorn of his divine attributes, and both were considered the prototypes of Satan. The last day of the week, which was held sacred to Loki, was known in the Norse as Laugardag, or wash-day, but in English it was changed to Saturday, and was said to owe its name not to Saturn but to Sataere, the thief in ambush, and the Teutonic god of agriculture, who is supposed to be merely another personification of Loki. CHAPTER XXIII: THE GIANTS Jötun-heim As we have already seen, the Northern races imagined that the giants were the first creatures who came to life among the icebergs which filled the vast abyss of Ginnunga-gap. These giants were from the very beginning the opponents and rivals of the gods, and as the latter were the personifications of all that is good and lovely, the former were representative of all that was ugly and evil. "He comes--he comes--the Frost Spirit comes! on the rushing northern blast, And the dark Norwegian pines have bowed as his fearful breath went past. With an unscorched wing he has hurried on, where the fires on Hecla glow On the darkly beautiful sky above and the ancient ice below." J. G. Whittier. When Ymir, the first giant, fell lifeless on the ice, slain by the gods, his progeny were drowned in his blood. One couple only, Bergelmir and his wife, effected their escape to Jötun-heim, where they took up their abode and became the parents of all the giant race. In the North the giants were called by various names, each having a particular meaning. Jötun, for instance, meant "the great eater," for the giants were noted for their enormous appetites as well as for their uncommon size. They were fond of drinking as well as of eating, wherefore they were also called Thurses, a word which some writers claim had the same meaning as thirst; but others think they owed this name to the high towers ("turseis") which they were supposed to have built. As the giants were antagonistic to the gods, the latter always strove to force them to remain in Jötun-heim, which was situated in the cold regions of the Pole. The giants were almost invariably worsted in their encounters with the gods, for they were heavy and slow-witted, and had nothing but stone weapons to oppose to the Æsir's bronze. In spite of this inequality, however, they were sometimes greatly envied by the gods, for they were thoroughly conversant with all knowledge relating to the past. Even Odin was envious of this attribute, and no sooner had he secured it by a draught from Mimir's spring than he hastened to Jötun-heim to measure himself against Vafthrudnir, the most learned of the giant brood. But he might never have succeeded in defeating his antagonist in this strange encounter had he not ceased inquiring about the past and propounded a question relating to the future. Of all the gods Thor was most feared by the Jötuns, for he was continually waging war against the frost and mountain giants, who would fain have bound the earth for ever in their rigid bands, thus preventing men from tilling the soil. In fighting against them, Thor, as we have already seen, generally had recourse to his terrible hammer Miölnir. Origin of the Mountains According to German legends the uneven surface of the earth was due to the giants, who marred its smoothness by treading upon it while it was still soft and newly created, while streams were formed from the copious tears shed by the giantesses upon seeing the valleys made by their husbands' huge footprints. As such was the Teutonic belief, the people imagined that the giants, who personified the mountains to them, were huge uncouth creatures, who could only move about in the darkness or fog, and were petrified as soon as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the gloom or scattered the clouds. This belief led them to name one of their principal mountain chains the Riesengebirge (giant mountains). The Scandinavians also shared this belief, and to this day the Icelanders designate their highest mountain peaks by the name of Jokul, a modification of the word "Jötun." In Switzerland, where the everlasting snows rest upon the lofty mountain tops, the people still relate old stories of the time when the giants roamed abroad; and when an avalanche came crashing down the mountain side, they say the giants have restlessly shaken off part of the icy burden from their brows and shoulders. The First Gods As the giants were also personifications of snow, ice, cold, stone, and subterranean fire, they were said to be descended from the primitive Fornjotnr, whom some authorities identify with Ymir. According to this version of the myth, Fornjotnr had three sons: Hler, the sea; Kari, the air; and Loki, fire. These three divinities, the first gods, formed the oldest trinity, and their respective descendants were the sea giants Mimir, Gymir, and Grendel, the storm giants Thiassi, Thrym, and Beli, and the giants of fire and death, such as the Fenris wolf and Hel. As all the royal dynasties claimed descent from some mythical being, the Merovingians asserted that their first progenitor was a sea giant, who rose out of the waves in the form of an ox, and surprised the queen while she was walking alone on the seashore, compelling her to become his wife. She gave birth to a son named Meroveus, the founder of the first dynasty of Frankish kings. Many stories have already been told about the most important giants. They reappear in many of the later myths and fairy-tales, and manifest, after the introduction of Christianity, a peculiar dislike to the sound of church bells and the singing of monks and nuns. The Giant in Love The Scandinavians relate, in this connection, that in the days of Olaf the Saint a giant called Senjemand, dwelt on the Island of Senjen, and he was greatly incensed because a nun on the Island of Grypto daily sang her morning hymn. This giant fell in love with a beautiful maiden called Juterna-jesta, and it was long ere he could find courage to propose to her. When at last he made his halting request, the fair damsel scornfully rejected him, declaring that he was far too old and ugly for her taste. "Miserable Senjemand--ugly and grey! Thou win the maid of Kvedfiord! No--a churl thou art and shalt ever remain." Ballad (Brace's tr.). In his anger at being thus scornfully refused, the giant swore vengeance, and soon after he shot a great flint arrow from his bow at the maiden, who dwelt eighty miles away. Another lover, Torge, also a giant, seeing her peril and wishing to protect her, flung his hat at the speeding arrow. This hat was a thousand feet high and proportionately broad and thick, nevertheless the arrow pierced the headgear, falling short, however, of its aim. Senjemand, seeing that he had failed, and fearing the wrath of Torge, mounted his steed and prepared to ride off as quickly as possible; but the sun, rising just then above the horizon, turned him into stone, together with the arrow and Torge's hat, the huge pile being known as the Torghatten mountain. The people still point to an obelisk which they say is the stone arrow; to a hole in the mountain, 289 feet high and 88 feet wide, which they say is the aperture made by the arrow in its flight through the hat; and to the horseman on Senjen Island, apparently riding a colossal steed and drawing the folds of his wide cavalry cloak closely about him. As for the nun whose singing had so disturbed Senjemand, she was petrified too, and never troubled any one with her psalmody again. The Giant and the Church Bells Another legend relates that one of the mountain giants, annoyed by the ringing of church bells more than fifty miles away, once caught up a huge rock, which he hurled at the sacred building. Fortunately it fell short and broke in two. Ever since then, the peasants say that the trolls come on Christmas Eve to raise the largest piece of stone upon golden pillars, and to dance and feast beneath it. A lady, wishing to know whether this tale were true, once sent her groom to the place. The trolls came forward and hospitably offered him a drink from a horn mounted in gold and ornamented with runes. Seizing the horn, the groom flung its contents away and dashed off with it at a mad gallop, closely pursued by the trolls, from whom he escaped only by passing through a stubble field and over running water. Some of their number visited the lady on the morrow to claim this horn, and when she refused to part with it they laid a curse upon her, declaring that her castle would be burned down every time the horn should be removed. The prediction has thrice been fulfilled, and now the family guard the relic with superstitious care. A similar drinking vessel, obtained in much the same fashion by the Oldenburg family, is exhibited in the collection of the King of Denmark. The giants were not supposed to remain stationary, but were said to move about in the darkness, sometimes transporting masses of earth and sand, which they dropped here and there. The sandhills in northern Germany and Denmark were supposed to have been thus formed. The Giants' Ship A North Frisian tradition relates that the giants possessed a colossal ship, called Mannigfual, which constantly cruised about in the Atlantic Ocean. Such was the size of this vessel that the captain was said to patrol the deck on horseback, while the rigging was so extensive and the masts so high that the sailors who went up as youths came down as gray-haired men, having rested and refreshed themselves in rooms fashioned and provisioned for that purpose in the huge blocks and pulleys. By some mischance it happened that the pilot once directed the immense vessel into the North Sea, and wishing to return to the Atlantic as soon as possible, yet not daring to turn in such a small space, he steered into the English Channel. Imagine the dismay of all on board when they saw the passage growing narrower and narrower the farther they advanced. When they came to the narrowest spot, between Calais and Dover, it seemed barely possible that the vessel, drifting along with the current, could force its way through. The captain, with laudable presence of mind, promptly bade his men soap the sides of the ship, and to lay an extra-thick layer on the starboard, where the rugged cliffs of Dover rose threateningly. These orders were no sooner carried out than the vessel entered the narrow space, and, thanks to the captain's precaution, it slipped safely through. The rocks of Dover scraped off so much soap, however, that ever since they have been particularly white, and the waves dashing against them still have an unusually foamy appearance. This exciting experience was not the only one through which the Mannigfual passed, for we are told that it once, nobody knows how, penetrated into the Baltic Sea, where, the water not being deep enough to keep the vessel afloat, the captain ordered all the ballast to be thrown overboard. The material thus cast on either side of the vessel into the sea formed the two islands of Bornholm and Christiansoë. Princess Ilse In Thuringia and in the Black Forest the stories of the giants are legion, and one of the favourites with the peasants is that about Ilse, the lovely daughter of the giant of the Ilsenstein. She was so charming that far and wide she was known as the Beautiful Princess Ilse, and was wooed by many knights, of whom she preferred the Lord of Westerburg. But her father did not at all approve of her consorting with a mere mortal, and forbade her to see her lover. Princess Ilse was wilful, however, and in spite of her sire's prohibition she daily visited her lover. The giant, exasperated by her persistency and disobedience, finally stretched out his huge hands and, seizing the rocks, tore a great gap between the height where he dwelt and the castle of Westerburg. Upon this, Princess Ilse, going to the cleft which parted her from her lover, recklessly flung herself over the precipice into the raging flood beneath, and was there changed into a bewitching undine. She dwelt in the limpid waters for many a year, appearing from time to time to exercise her fascinations upon mortals, and even, it is said, captivating the affections of the Emperor Henry, who paid frequent visits to her cascade. Her last appearance, according to popular belief, was at Pentecost, a hundred years ago; and the natives have not yet ceased to look for the beautiful princess, who is said still to haunt the stream and to wave her white arms to entice travellers into the cool spray of the waterfall. "I am the Princess Ilse, And I dwell at the Ilsenstein; Come with me to my castle, And bliss shall be mine and thine. "With the cool of my glass-clear waters Thy brow and thy locks I'll lave; And thou'lt think of thy sorrows no longer, For all that thou look'st so grave. "With my white arms twined around thee, And lapped on my breast so white, Thou shalt lie, and dream of elf-land-- Its loves and wild delight." Heine (Martin's tr.). The Giantess's Plaything The giants inhabited all the earth before it was given to mankind, and it was only with reluctance that they made way for the human race, and retreated into the waste and barren parts of the country, where they brought up their families in strict seclusion. Such was the ignorance of their offspring, that a young giantess, straying from home, once came to an inhabited valley, where for the first time in her life she saw a farmer ploughing on the hillside. Deeming him a pretty plaything, she caught him up with his team, and thrusting them into her apron, she gleefully carried them home to exhibit to her father. But the giant immediately bade her carry peasant and horses back to the place where she had found them, and when she had done so he sadly explained that the creatures whom she took for mere playthings, would eventually drive the giant folk away, and become masters of the earth. CHAPTER XXIV: THE DWARFS Little Men In the first chapter we saw how the black elves, dwarfs, or Svart-alfar, were bred like maggots in the flesh of the slain giant Ymir. The gods, perceiving these tiny, unformed creatures creeping in and out, gave them form and features, and they became known as dark elves, on account of their swarthy complexions. These small beings were so homely, with their dark skin, green eyes, large heads, short legs, and crow's feet, that they were enjoined to hide underground, being commanded never to show themselves during the daytime lest they should be turned into stone. Although less powerful than the gods, they were far more intelligent than men, and as their knowledge was boundless and extended even to the future, gods and men were equally anxious to question them. The dwarfs were also known as trolls, kobolds, brownies, goblins, pucks, or Huldra folk, according to the country where they dwelt. "You are the grey, grey Troll, With the great green eyes, But I love you, grey, grey Troll-- You are so wise! "Tell me this sweet morn, Tell me all you know-- Tell me, was I born? Tell me, did I grow?" The Legend of the Little Fay (Buchanan). The Tarnkappe These little beings could transport themselves with marvellous celerity from one place to another, and they loved to conceal themselves behind rocks, when they would mischievously repeat the last words of conversations overheard from such hiding-places. Owing to this well-known trick, the echoes were called dwarfs' talk, and people fancied that the reason why the makers of such sounds were never seen was because each dwarf was the proud possessor of a tiny red cap which made the wearer invisible. This cap was called Tarnkappe, and without it the dwarfs dared not appear above the surface of the earth after sunrise for fear of being petrified. When wearing it they were safe from this peril. "Away! let not the sun view me-- I dare no longer stay; An Elfin-child, thou wouldst me see, To stone turn at his ray." La Motte-Fouqué. The Legend of Kallundborg Helva, daughter of the Lord of Nesvek, was loved by Esbern Snare, whose suit, however, was rejected by the proud father with the scornful words: "When thou shalt build at Kallundborg a stately church, then will I give thee Helva to wife." Now Esbern, although of low estate, was proud of heart, even as the lord, and he determined, come what might, to find a way to win his coveted bride. So off he strode to a troll in Ullshoi Hill, and effected a bargain whereby the troll undertook to build a fine church, on completion of which Esbern was to tell the builder's name or forfeit his eyes and heart. Night and day the troll wrought on, and as the building took shape, sadder grew Esbern Snare. He listened at the crevices of the hill by night; he watched during the day; he wore himself to a shadow by anxious thought; he besought the elves to aid him. All to no purpose. Not a sound did he hear, not a thing did he see, to suggest the name of the builder. Meantime, rumour was busy, and the fair Helva, hearing of the evil compact, prayed for the soul of the unhappy man. Time passed until one day the church lacked only one pillar, and worn out by black despair, Esbern sank exhausted upon a bank, whence he heard the troll hammering the last stone in the quarry underground. "Fool that I am," he said bitterly, "I have builded my tomb." Just then he heard a light footstep, and looking up, he beheld his beloved. "Would that I might die in thy stead," said she, through her tears, and with that Esbern confessed how that for love of her he had imperilled eyes and heart and soul. Then fast as the troll hammered underground, Helva prayed beside her lover, and the prayers of the maiden prevailed over the spell of the troll, for suddenly Esbern caught the sound of a troll-wife singing to her infant, bidding it be comforted, for that, on the morrow, Father Fine would return bringing a mortal's eyes and heart. Sure of his victim, the troll hurried to Kallundborg with the last stone. "Too late, Fine!" quoth Esbern, and at the word, the troll vanished with his stone, and it is said that the peasants heard at night the sobbing of a woman underground, and the voice of the troll loud with blame. "Of the Troll of the Church they sing the rune By the Northern Sea in the harvest moon; And the fishers of Zealand hear him still Scolding his wife in Ulshoi hill. "And seaward over its groves of birch Still looks the tower of Kallundborg church, Where, first at its altar, a wedded pair, Stood Helva of Nesvek and Esbern Snare!" J. G. Whittier The Magic of the Dwarfs The dwarfs, as well as the elves, were ruled by a king, who, in various countries of northern Europe, was known as Andvari, Alberich, Elbegast, Gondemar, Laurin, or Oberon. He dwelt in a magnificent subterranean palace, studded with the gems which his subjects had mined from the bosom of the earth, and, besides untold riches and the Tarnkappe, he owned a magic ring, an invincible sword, and a belt of strength. At his command the little men, who were very clever smiths, would fashion marvellous jewels or weapons, which their ruler would bestow upon favourite mortals. We have already seen how the dwarfs fashioned Sif's golden hair, the ship Skidbladnir, the point of Odin's spear Gungnir, the ring Draupnir, the golden-bristled boar Gullin-bursti, the hammer Miölnir, and Freya's golden necklace Brisinga-men. They are also said to have made the magic girdle which Spenser describes in his poem of the "Faerie Queene,"--a girdle which was said to have the power of revealing whether its wearer were virtuous or a hypocrite. "That girdle gave the virtue of chaste love And wifehood true to all that did it bear; But whosoever contrary doth prove Might not the same about her middle wear But it would loose, or else asunder tear." Faerie Queene (Spenser). The dwarfs also manufactured the mythical sword Tyrfing, which could cut through iron and stone, and which they gave to Angantyr. This sword, like Frey's, fought of its own accord, and could not be sheathed, after it was once drawn, until it had tasted blood. Angantyr was so proud of this weapon that he had it buried with him; but his daughter Hervor visited his tomb at midnight, recited magic spells, and forced him to rise from his grave to give her the precious blade. She wielded it bravely, and it eventually became the property of another of the Northern heroes. Another famous weapon, which according to tradition was forged by the dwarfs in Eastern lands, was the sword Angurvadel which Frithiof received as a portion of his inheritance from his fathers. Its hilt was of hammered gold, and the blade was inscribed with runes which were dull until it was brandished in war, when they flamed red as the comb of the fighting-cock. "Quick lost was that hero Meeting in battle's night that blade high-flaming with runics. Widely renown'd was this sword, of swords most choice in the Northland." Tegnér's Frithiof (G. Stephens's tr.). The Passing of the Dwarfs The dwarfs were generally kind and helpful; sometimes they kneaded bread, ground flour, brewed beer, performed countless household tasks, and harvested and threshed the grain for the farmers. If ill-treated, however, or turned to ridicule, these little creatures would forsake the house and never come back again. When the old gods ceased to be worshipped in the Northlands, the dwarfs withdrew entirely from the country, and a ferryman related how he had been hired by a mysterious personage to ply his boat back and forth across the river one night, and at every trip his vessel was so heavily laden with invisible passengers that it nearly sank. When his night's work was over, he received a rich reward, and his employer informed him that he had carried the dwarfs across the river, as they were leaving the country for ever in consequence of the unbelief of the people. Changelings According to popular superstition, the dwarfs, in envy of man's taller stature, often tried to improve their race by winning human wives or by stealing unbaptized children, and substituting their own offspring for the human mother to nurse. These dwarf babies were known as changelings, and were recognisable by their puny and wizened forms. To recover possession of her own babe, and to rid herself of the changeling, a woman was obliged either to brew beer in egg-shells or to grease the soles of the child's feet and hold them so near the flames that, attracted by their offspring's distressed cries, the dwarf parents would hasten to claim their own and return the stolen child. The troll women were said to have the power of changing themselves into Maras or nightmares, and of tormenting any one they pleased; but if the victim succeeded in stopping up the hole through which a Mara made her ingress into his room, she was entirely at his mercy, and he could even force her to wed him if he chose to do so. A wife thus obtained was sure to remain as long as the opening through which she had entered the house was closed, but if the plug were removed, either by accident or design, she immediately effected her escape and never returned. The Peaks of the Trolls Naturally, traditions of the little folk abound everywhere throughout the North, and many places are associated with their memory. The well-known Peaks of the Trolls (Trold-Tindterne) in Norway are said to be the scene of a conflict between two bands of trolls, who in the eagerness of combat omitted to note the approach of sunrise, with the result that they were changed into the small points of rock which stand up noticeably upon the crests of the mountain. A Conjecture Some writers have ventured a conjecture that the dwarfs so often mentioned in the ancient sagas and fairy-tales were real beings, probably the Phoenician miners, who, working the coal, iron, copper, gold, and tin mines of England, Norway, Sweden, etc., took advantage of the simplicity and credulity of the early inhabitants to make them believe that they belonged to a supernatural race and always dwelt underground, in a region which was called Svart-alfa-heim, or the home of the black elves. CHAPTER XXV: THE ELVES The Realm of Faery Besides the dwarfs there was another numerous class of tiny creatures called Lios-alfar, light or white elves, who inhabited the realms of air between heaven and earth, and were gently governed by the genial god Frey from his palace in Alf-heim. They were lovely, beneficent beings, so pure and innocent that, according to some authorities, their name was derived from the same root as the Latin word "white" (albus), which, in a modified form, was given to the snow-covered Alps, and to Albion (England), because of her white chalk cliffs which could be seen afar. The elves were so small that they could flit about unseen while they tended the flowers, birds, and butterflies; and as they were passionately fond of dancing, they often glided down to earth on a moonbeam, to dance on the green. Holding one another by the hand, they would dance in circles, thereby making the "fairy rings," which were to be discerned by the deeper green and greater luxuriance of the grass which their little feet had pressed. "Merry elves, their morrice pacing To aërial minstrelsy, Emerald rings on brown heath tracing, Trip it deft and merrily." Sir Walter Scott. If any mortal stood in the middle of one of these fairy rings he could, according to popular belief in England, see the fairies and enjoy their favour; but the Scandinavians and Teutons vowed that the unhappy man must die. In illustration of this superstition, a story is told of how Sir Olaf, riding off to his wedding, was enticed by the fairies into their ring. On the morrow, instead of a merry marriage, his friends witnessed a triple funeral, for his mother and bride also died when they beheld his lifeless corpse. "Master Olof rode forth ere dawn of the day And came where the Elf-folk were dancing away. The dance is so merry, So merry in the greenwood. "And on the next morn, ere the daylight was red, In Master Olof's house lay three corpses dead. The dance is so merry, So merry in the greenwood. "First Master Olof, and next his young bride, And third his old mother--for sorrow she died. The dance is so merry, So merry in the greenwood." Master Olof at the Elfin Dance (Howitt's tr.). The Elf-dance These elves, who in England were called fairies or fays, were also enthusiastic musicians, and delighted especially in a certain air known as the elf-dance, which was so irresistible that no one who heard it could refrain from dancing. If a mortal, overhearing the air, ventured to reproduce it, he suddenly found himself incapable of stopping and was forced to play on and on until he died of exhaustion, unless he were deft enough to play the tune backwards, or some one charitably cut the strings of his violin. His hearers, who were forced to dance as long as the tones continued, could only stop when they ceased. The Will-o'-the-wisps In mediæval times, the will-o'-the-wisps were known in the North as elf lights, for these tiny sprites were supposed to mislead travellers; and popular superstition held that the Jack-o'-lanterns were the restless spirits of murderers forced against their will to return to the scene of their crimes. As they nightly walked thither, it is said that they doggedly repeated with every step, "It is right;" but as they returned they sadly reiterated, "It is wrong." Oberon and Titania In later times the fairies or elves were said to be ruled by the king of the dwarfs, who, being an underground spirit, was considered a demon, and allowed to retain the magic power which the missionaries had wrested from the god Frey. In England and France the king of the fairies was known by the name of Oberon; he governed fairyland with his queen Titania, and the highest revels on earth were held on Midsummer night. It was then that the fairies all congregated around him and danced most merrily. "Every elf and fairy sprite Hop as light as bird from brier; And this ditty after me Sing, and dance it trippingly." Midsummer-Night's Dream (Shakespeare). These elves, like the brownies, Huldra folk, kobolds, etc., were also supposed to visit human dwellings, and it was said that they took mischievous pleasure in tangling and knotting horses' manes and tails. These tangles were known as elf-locks, and whenever a farmer descried them he declared that his steeds had been elf-ridden during the night. Alf-blot In Scandinavia and Germany sacrifices were offered to the elves to make them propitious. These sacrifices consisted of some small animal, or of a bowl of honey and milk, and were known as Alf-blot. They were quite common until the missionaries taught the people that the elves were mere demons, when they were transferred to the angels, who were long entreated to befriend mortals, and propitiated by the same gifts. Many of the elves were supposed to live and die with the trees and plants which they tended, but these moss, wood, or tree maidens, while remarkably beautiful when seen in front, were hollow like a trough when viewed from behind. They appear in many of the popular tales, but almost always as benevolent and helpful spirits, for they were anxious to do good to mortals and to cultivate friendly relations with them. Images on Doorposts In Scandinavia the elves, both light and dark, were worshipped as household divinities, and their images were carved on the doorposts. The Norsemen, who were driven from home by the tyranny of Harald Harfager in 874, took their carved doorposts with them upon their ships. Similar carvings, including images of the gods and heroes, decorated the pillars of their high seats which they also carried away. The exiles showed their trust in their gods by throwing these wooden images overboard when they neared the Icelandic shores and settling where the waves carried the posts, even if the spot scarcely seemed the most desirable. "Thus they carried with them the religion, the poetry, and the laws of their race, and on this desolate volcanic island they kept these records unchanged for hundreds of years, while other Teutonic nations gradually became affected by their intercourse with Roman and Byzantine Christianity." These records, carefully collected by Sæmund the learned, form the Elder Edda, the most precious relic of ancient Northern literature, without which we should know comparatively little of the religion of our forefathers. The sagas relate that the first settlements in Greenland and Vinland were made in the same way,--the Norsemen piously landing wherever their household gods drifted ashore. CHAPTER XXVI: THE SIGURD SAGA The Beginning of the Story While the first part of the Elder Edda consists of a collection of alliterative poems describing the creation of the world, the adventures of the gods, their eventual downfall, and gives a complete exposition of the Northern code of ethics, the second part comprises a series of heroic lays describing the exploits of the Volsung family, and especially of their chief representative, Sigurd, the favourite hero of the North. The Volsunga Saga These lays form the basis of the great Scandinavian epic, the Volsunga Saga, and have supplied not only the materials for the Nibelungenlied, the German epic, and for countless folk tales, but also for Wagner's celebrated operas, The Rhinegold, Valkyr, Siegfried, and The Dusk of the Gods. In England, William Morris has given them the form which they will probably retain in our literature, and it is from his great epic poem, by the courteous permission of his trustees, and of his publishers, Messrs. Longmans, Green and Co., that almost all the quotations in this section are taken in preference to extracts from the Edda. Sigi The story of the Volsungs begins with Sigi, a son of Odin, a powerful man, and generally respected, until he killed a man from motives of jealousy, the latter having slain more game when they were out hunting together. In consequence of this crime, Sigi was driven from his own land and declared an outlaw. But it seems that he had not entirely forfeited Odin's favour, for the god now provided him with a well-equipped vessel, together with a number of brave followers, and promised that victory should ever attend him. Thus aided by Odin, the raids of Sigi became a terror to his foes, and in the end he won the glorious empire of the Huns and for many years reigned as a powerful monarch. But in extreme old age his fortune changed, Odin forsook him, his wife's kindred fell upon him, and he was slain in a treacherous encounter. Rerir His death was soon avenged, however, for Rerir, his son, returning from an expedition upon which he had been absent from the land at the time, put the murderers to death as his first act upon mounting the throne. The rule of Rerir was marked by every sign of prosperity, but his dearest wish, a son to succeed him, remained unfulfilled for many a year. Finally, however, Frigga decided to grant his constant prayer, and to vouchsafe the heir he longed for. She accordingly despatched her swift messenger Gna, or Liod, with a miraculous apple, which she dropped into his lap as he was sitting alone on the hillside. Glancing upward, Rerir recognised the emissary of the goddess, and joyfully hastened home to partake of the apple with his wife. The child who in due time was born under these favourable auspices was a handsome little lad. His parents called him Volsung, and while he was still a mere infant they both died, and the child became ruler of the land. Volsung Years passed and Volsung's wealth and power ever increased. He was the boldest leader, and rallied many brave warriors around him. Full oft did they drink his mead underneath the Branstock, a mighty oak, which, rising in the middle of his hall, pierced the roof and overshadowed the whole house. "And as in all other matters 'twas all earthly houses' crown, And the least of its wall-hung shields was a battle-world's renown, So therein withal was a marvel and a glorious thing to see, For amidst of its midmost hall-floor sprang up a mighty tree, That reared its blessings roofward and wreathed the roof-tree dear With the glory of the summer and the garland of the year." Ten stalwart sons were born to Volsung, and one daughter, Signy, came to brighten his home. So lovely was this maiden that when she reached marriageable age many suitors asked for her hand, among whom was Siggeir, King of the Goths, who finally obtained Volsung's consent, although Signy had never seen him. The Wedding of Signy When the wedding-day came, and the bride beheld her destined husband she shrank in dismay, for his puny form and lowering glances contrasted sadly with her brothers' sturdy frames and open faces. But it was too late to withdraw--the family honour was at stake--and Signy so successfully concealed her dislike that none save her twin brother Sigmund suspected with what reluctance she became Siggeir's wife. The Sword in the Branstock While the wedding feast was in progress, and when the merry-making was at its height, the entrance to the hall was suddenly darkened by the tall form of a one-eyed man, closely enveloped in a mantle of cloudy blue. Without vouchsafing word or glance to any in the assembly, the stranger strode to the Branstock and thrust a glittering sword up to the hilt in its great bole. Then, turning slowly round, he faced the awe-struck and silent assembly, and declared that the weapon would be for the warrior who could pull it out of its oaken sheath, and that it would assure him victory in every battle. The words ended, he then passed out as he had entered, and disappeared, leaving a conviction in the minds of all that Odin, king of the gods, had been in their midst. "So sweet his speaking sounded, so wise his words did seem, That moveless all men sat there, as in a happy dream We stir not lest we waken; but there his speech had end And slowly down the hall-floor, and outward did he wend; And none would cast him a question or follow on his ways, For they knew that the gift was Odin's, a sword for the world to praise." Volsung was the first to recover the power of speech, and, waiving his own right first to essay the feat, he invited Siggeir to make the first attempt to draw the divine weapon out of the tree-trunk. The bridegroom anxiously tugged and strained, but the sword remained firmly embedded in the oak and he resumed his seat, with an air of chagrin. Then Volsung tried, with the same result. The weapon was evidently not intended for either of them, and the young Volsung princes were next invited to try their strength. "Sons I have gotten and cherished, now stand ye forth and try; Lest Odin tell in God-home how from the way he strayed, And how to the man he would not he gave away his blade. Sigmund The nine eldest sons were equally unsuccessful; but when Sigmund, the tenth and youngest, laid his firm young hand upon the hilt, the sword yielded easily to his touch, and he triumphantly drew it out as though it had merely been sheathed in its scabbard. "At last by the side of the Branstock Sigmund the Volsung stood, And with right hand wise in battle the precious sword-hilt caught, Yet in a careless fashion, as he deemed it all for nought; When, lo, from floor to rafter went up a shattering shout, For aloft in the hand of Sigmund the naked blade shone out As high o'er his head he shook it: for the sword had come away From the grip of the heart of the Branstock, as though all loose it lay." Nearly all present were gratified at the success of the young prince; but Siggeir's heart was filled with envy, and he coveted possession of the weapon. He offered to purchase it from his young brother-in-law, but Sigmund refused to part with it at any price, declaring that it was clear that the weapon had been intended for him to wear. This refusal so offended Siggeir that he secretly resolved to exterminate the proud Volsungs, and to secure the divine sword at the same time that he indulged his hatred towards his new kinsmen. Concealing his chagrin, however, he turned to Volsung and cordially invited him to visit his court a month later, together with his sons and kinsmen. The invitation was immediately accepted, and although Signy, suspecting evil, secretly sought her father while her husband slept, and implored him to retract his promise and stay at home, he would not consent to withdraw his plighted word and so exhibit fear. Siggeir's Treachery A few weeks after the return of the bridal couple, therefore, Volsung's well-manned vessels arrived within sight of Siggeir's shores. Signy had been keeping anxious watch, and when she perceived them she hastened down to the beach to implore her kinsmen not to land, warning them that her husband had treacherously planned an ambush, whence they could not escape alive. But Volsung and his sons, whom no peril could daunt, calmly bade her return to her husband's palace, and donning their arms they boldly set foot ashore. "Then sweetly Volsung kissed her: 'Woe am I for thy sake, But Earth the word hath hearkened, that yet unborn I spake; How I ne'er would turn me backward from the sword or fire of bale; --I have held that word till to-day, and to-day shall I change the tale? And look on these thy brethren, how goodly and great are they, Wouldst thou have the maidens mock them, when this pain hath passed away And they sit at the feast hereafter, that they feared the deadly stroke? Let us do our day's work deftly for the praise and glory of folk; And if the Norns will have it that the Volsung kin shall fail, Yet I know of the deed that dies not, and the name that shall ever avail.'" It befell as Signy had said, for on their way to the palace the brave little troop fell into Siggeir's ambush, and, although they fought with heroic courage, they were so borne down by the superior number of their foes that Volsung was slain and all his sons were made captive. The young men were led bound into the presence of the cowardly Siggeir, who had taken no part in the fight, and Sigmund was forced to relinquish his precious sword, after which he and his brothers were condemned to death. Signy, hearing the cruel sentence, vainly interceded for her brothers: all she could obtain by her prayers and entreaties was that they should be chained to a fallen oak in the forest, to perish of hunger and thirst if the wild beasts should spare them. Then, lest she should visit and succour her brothers, Siggeir confined his wife in the palace, where she was closely guarded night and day. Every morning early Siggeir himself sent a messenger into the forest to see whether the Volsungs were still living, and every morning the man returned saying a monster had come during the night and had devoured one of the princes, leaving nothing but his bones. At last, when none but Sigmund remained alive, Signy thought of a plan, and she prevailed on one of her servants to carry some honey into the forest and smear it over her brother's face and mouth. When the wild beast came that night, attracted by the smell of the honey, it licked Sigmund's face, and even thrust its tongue into his mouth. Clinching his teeth upon it, Sigmund, weak and wounded as he was, held on to the animal, and in its frantic struggles his bonds gave way, and he succeeded in slaying the prowling beast who had devoured his brothers. Then he vanished into the forest, where he remained concealed until the king's messenger had come as usual, and until Signy, released from captivity, came speeding to the forest to weep over her kinsmen's remains. Seeing her intense grief, and knowing that she had not participated in Siggeir's cruelty, Sigmund stole out of his place of concealment and comforted her as best he could. Together they then buried the whitening bones, and Sigmund registered a solemn oath to avenge his family's wrongs. This vow was fully approved by Signy, who, however, bade her brother bide a favourable time, promising to send him aid. Then the brother and sister sadly parted, she to return to her distasteful palace home, and he to a remote part of the forest, where he built a tiny hut and plied the craft of a smith. "And men say that Signy wept When she left that last of her kindred: yet wept she never more Amid the earls of Siggeir, and as lovely as before Was her face to all men's deeming: nor aught it changed for ruth, Nor for fear nor any longing; and no man said for sooth That she ever laughed thereafter till the day of her death was come." Signy's Sons Siggeir now took possession of the Volsung kingdom, and during the next few years he proudly watched the growth of his eldest son, whom Signy secretly sent to her brother when he was ten years of age, that Sigmund might train up the child to help him to obtain vengeance if he should prove worthy. Sigmund reluctantly accepted the charge; but as soon as he had tested the boy he found him deficient in physical courage, so he either sent him back to his mother, or, as some versions relate, slew him. Some time after this Signy's second son was sent into the forest for the same purpose, but Sigmund found him equally lacking in courage. Evidently none but a pure-blooded Volsung would avail for the grim work of revenge, and Signy, realising this, resolved to commit a crime. "And once in the dark she murmured: 'Where then was the ancient song That the Gods were but twin-born once, and deemed it nothing wrong To mingle for the world's sake, whence had the Æsir birth, And the Vanir and the Dwarf-kind, and all the folk of earth?" Her resolution taken, she summoned a beautiful young witch, and exchanging forms with her, she sought the depths of the dark forest and took shelter in Sigmund's hut. The Volsung did not penetrate his sister's disguise. He deemed her nought but the gypsy she seemed, and being soon won by her coquetry, he made her his wife. Three days later she disappeared from the hut, and, returning to the palace, she resumed her own form, and when she next gave birth to a son, she rejoiced to see in his bold glance and strong frame the promise of a true Volsung hero. Sinfiotli When Sinfiotli, as the child was called, was ten years of age, she herself made a preliminary test of his courage by sewing his garment to his skin, and then suddenly snatching it off, and as the brave boy did not so much as wince, but laughed aloud, she confidently sent him to the forest hut. Sigmund speedily prepared his usual test, and ere leaving the hut one day he bade Sinfiotli take meal from a certain sack, and knead it and bake some bread. On returning home, Sigmund asked whether his orders had been carried out. The lad replied by showing the bread, and when closely questioned he artlessly confessed that he had been obliged to knead into the loaf a great adder which was hidden in the meal. Pleased to see that the boy, for whom he felt a strange affection, had successfully stood the test which had daunted his brothers, Sigmund bade him refrain from eating of the loaf, for although he was proof against the bite of a reptile, he could not, like his mentor, taste poison unharmed. "For here, the tale of the elders doth men a marvel to wit, That such was the shaping of Sigmund among all earthly kings, That unhurt he handled adders and other deadly things, And might drink unscathed of venom: but Sinfiotli was so wrought That no sting of creeping creatures would harm his body aught." The Werewolves Sigmund now began patiently to teach Sinfiotli all that a warrior of the North should know, and the two soon became inseparable companions. One day while ranging the forest together they came to a hut, where they found two men sound asleep. Near by hung two wolf-skins, which suggested immediately that the strangers were werewolves, whom a cruel spell prevented from bearing their natural form save for a short space at a time. Prompted by curiosity, Sigmund and Sinfiotli donned the wolf-skins, and they were soon, in the guise of wolves, rushing through the forest, slaying and devouring all that came in their way. Such were their wolfish passions that soon they attacked each other, and after a fierce struggle Sinfiotli, the younger and weaker, fell dead. This catastrophe brought Sigmund to his senses, and he hung over his murdered companion in despair. While thus engaged he saw two weasels come out of the forest and attack each other fiercely until one lay dead. The victor then sprang into the thicket, to return with a leaf, which it laid upon its companion's breast. Then was seen a marvellous thing, for at the touch of the magic herb the dead beast came back to life. A moment later a raven flying overhead dropped a similar leaf at Sigmund's feet, and he, understanding that the gods wished to help him, laid it upon Sinfiotli, who was at once restored to life. In dire fear lest they might work each other further mischief, Sigmund and Sinfiotli now crept home and patiently waited until the time of their release should come. To their great relief the skins dropped off on the ninth night, and they hastily flung them into the fire, where they were entirely consumed, and the spell was broken for ever. Sigmund and Sinfiotli taken by Siggeir Sigmund now confided the story of his wrongs to Sinfiotli, who swore that, although Siggeir was his father (for neither he nor Sigmund knew the secret of his birth), he would aid him in his revenge. At nightfall, therefore, he accompanied Sigmund to the king's hall, and they entered unseen, concealing themselves in the cellar, behind the huge vats of beer. Here they were discovered by Signy's two youngest children, who, while playing with golden rings, which rolled into the cellar, came suddenly upon the men in ambush. They loudly proclaimed their discovery to their father and his guests, but, before Siggeir and his men could take up arms, Signy took both children, and dragging them into the cellar bade her brother slay the little traitors. This Sigmund utterly refused to do, but Sinfiotli struck off their heads ere he turned to fight against the assailants, who were now closing in upon them. In spite of all efforts Sigmund and his brave young companion soon fell into the hands of the Goths, whereupon Siggeir sentenced them to be buried alive in the same mound, with a stone partition between them so that they could neither see nor touch each other. The prisoners were accordingly confined in their living grave, and their foes were about to place the last stones on the roof, when Signy drew near, bearing a bundle of straw, which she was allowed to throw at Sinfiotli's feet, for the Goths fancied that it contained only a few provisions which would prolong his agony without helping him to escape. When all was still, Sinfiotli undid the sheaf, and great was his joy when he found instead of bread the sword which Odin had given to Sigmund. Knowing that nothing could dull or break the keen edge of this fine weapon, Sinfiotli thrust it through the stone partition, and, aided by Sigmund, he succeeded in cutting an opening, and in the end both effected their escape through the roof. "Then in the grave-mound's darkness did Sigmund the king upstand, And unto that saw of battle he set his naked hand; And hard the gift of Odin home to their breasts they drew; Sawed Sigmund, sawed Sinfiotli, till the stone was cleft atwo, And they met and kissed together: then they hewed and heaved full hard Till, lo, through the bursten rafters the winter heavens bestarred! And they leap out merry-hearted; nor is there need to say A many words between them of whither was the way." Sigmund's Vengeance As soon as they were free, Sigmund and Sinfiotli returned to the king's hall, and piling combustible materials around it, they set fire to the mass. Then stationing themselves on either side of the entrance, they prevented all but the women from passing through. They loudly adjured Signy to escape ere it was too late, but she did not desire to live, and so coming to the entrance for a last embrace she found opportunity to whisper the secret of Sinfiotli's birth, after which she sprang back into the flames and perished with the rest. "And then King Siggeir's roof-tree upheaved for its utmost fall, And its huge walls clashed together, and its mean and lowly things The fire of death confounded with the tokens of the kings." Helgi The long-planned vengeance for the slaughter of the Volsungs having thus been carried out, Sigmund, feeling that nothing now detained him in the land of the Goths, set sail with Sinfiotli and returned to Hunaland, where he was warmly welcomed to the seat of power under the shade of his ancestral tree, the mighty Branstock. When his authority was fully established, Sigmund married Borghild, a beautiful princess, who bore him two sons, Hamond and Helgi. The latter was visited by the Norns as he lay in his cradle, and they promised him sumptuous entertainment in Valhalla when his earthly career should be ended. "And the woman was fair and lovely and bore him sons of fame; Men called them Hamond and Helgi, and when Helgi first saw light, There came the Norns to his cradle and gave him life full bright, And called him Sunlit Hill, Sharp Sword, and Land of Rings, And bade him be lovely and great, and a joy in the tale of kings." Northern kings generally entrusted their sons' upbringing to a stranger, for they thought that so they would be treated with less indulgence than at home. Accordingly Helgi was fostered by Hagal, and under his care the young prince became so fearless that at the age of fifteen he ventured alone into the hall of Hunding, with whose race his family was at feud. Passing through the hall unmolested and unrecognised, he left an insolent message, which so angered Hunding that he immediately set out in pursuit of the bold young prince, whom he followed to the dwelling of Hagal. Helgi would then have been secured but that meanwhile he had disguised himself as a servant-maid, and was busy grinding corn as if this were his wonted occupation. The invaders marvelled somewhat at the maid's tall stature and brawny arms, nevertheless they departed without suspecting that they had been so near the hero whom they sought. Having thus cleverly escaped, Helgi joined Sinfiotli, and collecting an army, the two young men marched boldly against the Hundings, with whom they fought a great battle, over which the Valkyrs hovered, waiting to convey the slain to Valhalla. Gudrun, one of the battle-maidens, was so struck by the courage which Helgi displayed, that she openly sought him and promised to be his wife. Only one of the Hunding race, Dag, remained alive, and he was allowed to go free after promising not to endeavour to avenge his kinsmen's death. This promise was not kept, however, and Dag, having obtained possession of Odin's spear Gungnir, treacherously slew Helgi with it. Gudrun, who in the meantime had fulfilled her promise to become his wife, wept many tears at his death, and laid a solemn curse upon his murderer; then, hearing from one of her maids that her slain husband kept calling for her from the depths of the tomb, she fearlessly entered the mound at night and tenderly inquired why he called and why his wounds continued to bleed after death. Helgi answered that he could not rest happy because of her grief, and declared that for every tear she shed a drop of his blood must flow. "Thou weepest, gold-adorned! Cruel tears, Sun-bright daughter of the south! Ere to sleep thou goest; Each one falls bloody On the prince's breast, Wet, cold, and piercing, With sorrow big." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). To appease the spirit of her beloved husband, Gudrun from that time ceased to weep, but they did not long remain separated; for soon after the spirit of Helgi had ridden over Bifröst and entered Valhalla, to become leader of the Einheriar, he was joined by Gudrun who, as a Valkyr once more, resumed her loving tendance of him. When at Odin's command she left his side for scenes of human strife, it was to seek new recruits for the army which her lord was to lead into battle when Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods, should come. The Death of Sinfiotli Sinfiotli, Sigmund's eldest son, also met an early death; for, having slain in a quarrel the brother of Borghild, she determined to poison him. Twice Sinfiotli detected the attempt and told his father that there was poison in his cup. Twice Sigmund, whom no venom could injure, drained the bowl; and when Borghild made a third attempt, he bade Sinfiotli let the wine flow through his beard. Mistaking the meaning of his father's words, Sinfiotli forthwith drained the cup, and fell lifeless to the ground, for the poison was of the most deadly kind. "He drank as he spake the word, and forthwith the venom ran In a chill flood over his heart and down fell the mighty man With never an uttered death-word and never a death-changed look, And the floor of the hall of the Volsungs beneath his falling shook. Then up rose the elder of days with a great and bitter cry, And lifted the head of the fallen; and none durst come anigh To hearken the words of his sorrow, if any words he said But such as the Father of all men might speak over Baldur dead. And again, as before the death-stroke, waxed the hall of the Volsungs dim, And once more he seemed in the forest, where he spake with nought but him." Speechless with grief, Sigmund tenderly raised his son's body in his arms, and strode out of the hall and down to the shore, where he deposited his precious burden in a skiff which an old one-eyed boatman brought at his call. He would fain have stepped aboard also, but ere he could do so the boatman pushed off and the frail craft was soon lost to sight. The bereaved father then slowly wended his way home, taking comfort from the thought that Odin himself had come to claim the young hero and had rowed away with him "out into the west." Hiordis Sigmund deposed Borghild as his wife and queen in punishment for this crime, and when he was very old he sued for the hand of Hiordis, a fair young princess, daughter of Eglimi, King of the Islands. This young maiden had many suitors, among others King Lygni of Hunding's race, but so great was Sigmund's fame that she gladly accepted him and became his wife. Lygni, the discarded suitor, was so angry at this decision, that he immediately collected a great army and marched against his successful rival, who, though overpowered by superior numbers, fought with the courage of despair. From the depths of a thicket which commanded the field of battle, Hiordis and her maid anxiously watched the progress of the strife. They saw Sigmund pile the dead around him, for none could stand against him, until at last a tall, one-eyed warrior suddenly appeared, and the press of battle gave way before the terror of his presence. Without a moment's pause the new champion aimed a fierce blow at Sigmund, which the old hero parried with his sword. The shock shattered the matchless blade, and although the strange assailant vanished as he had come, Sigmund was left defenceless and was soon wounded unto death by his foes. "But lo, through the hedge of the war-shafts, a mighty man there came, One-eyed and seeming ancient, but his visage shone like flame: Gleaming grey was his kirtle, and his hood was cloudy blue; And he bore a mighty twi-bill, as he waded the fight-sheaves through, And stood face to face with Sigmund, and upheaved the bill to smite. Once more round the head of the Volsung fierce glittered the Branstock's light, The sword that came from Odin; and Sigmund's cry once more Rang out to the very heavens above the din of war. Then clashed the meeting edges with Sigmund's latest stroke, And in shivering shards fell earthward that fear of worldly folk. But changed were the eyes of Sigmund, and the war-wrath left his face; For that grey-clad, mighty helper was gone, and in his place Drave on the unbroken spear-wood 'gainst the Volsung's empty hands: And there they smote down Sigmund, the wonder of all lands, On the foemen, on the death-heap his deeds had piled that day." As the battle was now won, and the Volsung family all slain, Lygni hastened from the battlefield to take possession of the kingdom and force the fair Hiordis to become his wife. As soon as he had gone, however, the beautiful young queen crept from her hiding-place in the thicket, and sought the spot where Sigmund lay all but dead. She caught the stricken hero to her breast in a last passionate embrace, and then listened tearfully while he bade her gather the fragments of his sword and carefully treasure them for their son whom he foretold was soon to be born, and who was destined to avenge his father's death and to be far greater than he. "'I have wrought for the Volsungs truly, and yet have I known full well That a better one than I am shall bear the tale to tell: And for him shall these shards be smithied: and he shall be my son, To remember what I have forgotten and to do what I left undone.'" Elf, the Viking While Hiordis was mourning over Sigmund's lifeless body, her handmaiden suddenly warned her of the approach of a band of vikings. Retreating into the thicket once more, the two women exchanged garments, after which Hiordis bade the maid walk first and personate the queen, and they went thus to meet the viking Elf (Helfrat or Helferich). Elf received the women graciously, and their story of the battle so excited his admiration for Sigmund that he caused the remains of the slain hero to be reverentially removed to a suitable spot, where they were interred with all due ceremony. He then offered the queen and her maid a safe asylum in his hall, and they gladly accompanied him over the seas. As he had doubted their relative positions from the first, Elf took the first opportunity after arriving in his kingdom to ask a seemingly idle question in order to ascertain the truth. He asked the pretended queen how she knew the hour had come for rising when the winter days were short and there was no light to announce the coming of morn, and she replied that, as she was in the habit of drinking milk ere she fed the cows, she always awoke thirsty. When the same question was put to the real Hiordis, she answered, with as little reflection, that she knew it was morning because at that hour the golden ring which her father had given her grew cold on her hand. The Birth of Sigurd The suspicions of Elf having thus been confirmed, he offered marriage to the pretended handmaiden, Hiordis, promising to cherish her infant son, a promise which he nobly kept. When the child was born Elf himself sprinkled him with water--a ceremony which our pagan ancestors scrupulously observed--and bestowed upon him the name of Sigurd. As he grew up he was treated as the king's own son, and his education was entrusted to Regin, the wisest of men, who knew all things, his own fate not even excepted, for it had been revealed to him that he would fall by the hand of a youth. "Again in the house of the Helper there dwelt a certain man, Beardless and low of stature, of visage pinched and wan: So exceeding old was Regin, that no son of man could tell In what year of the days passed over he came to that land to dwell: But the youth of king Elf had he fostered, and the Helper's youth thereto, Yea and his father's father's: the lore of all men he knew, And was deft in every cunning, save the dealings of the sword: So sweet was his tongue-speech fashioned, that men trowed his every word; His hand with the harp-strings blended was the mingler of delight With the latter days of sorrow; all tales he told aright; The Master of the Masters in the smithying craft was he; And he dealt with the wind and the weather and the stilling of the sea; Nor might any learn him leech-craft, for before that race was made, And that man-folk's generation, all their life-days had he weighed." Under this tutor Sigurd grew daily in wisdom until few could surpass him. He mastered the smith's craft, and the art of carving all manner of runes; he learned languages, music, and eloquence; and, last but not least, he became a doughty warrior whom none could subdue. When he had reached manhood Regin prompted him to ask the king for a war-horse, a request which was immediately granted, and Gripir, the stud-keeper, was bidden to allow him to choose from the royal stables the steed which he most fancied. On his way to the meadow where the horses were at pasture, Sigurd met a one-eyed stranger, clad in grey and blue, who accosted the young man and bade him drive the horses into the river and select the one which could breast the tide with least difficulty. Sigurd received the advice gladly, and upon reaching the meadow he drove the horses into the stream which flowed on one side. One of the number, after crossing, raced round the opposite meadow; and, plunging again into the river, returned to his former pasture without showing any signs of fatigue. Sigurd therefore did not hesitate to select this horse, and he gave him the name of Grane or Greyfell. The steed was a descendant of Odin's eight-footed horse Sleipnir, and besides being unusually strong and indefatigable, was as fearless as his master. One winter day while Regin and his pupil were sitting by the fire, the old man struck his harp, and, after the manner of the Northern scalds, sang or recited in the following tale, the story of his life: The Treasure of the Dwarf King Hreidmar, king of the dwarf folk, was the father of three sons. Fafnir, the eldest, was gifted with a fearless soul and a powerful arm; Otter, the second, with snare and net, and the power of changing his form at will; and Regin, the youngest, with all wisdom and deftness of hand. To please the avaricious Hreidmar, this youngest son fashioned for him a house lined with glittering gold and flashing gems, and this was guarded by Fafnir, whose fierce glances and Ægis helmet none dared encounter. Now it came to pass that Odin, Hoenir, and Loki once came in human guise, upon one of their wonted expeditions to test the hearts of men, unto the land where Hreidmar dwelt. "And the three were the heart-wise Odin, the Father of the Slain, And Loki, the World's Begrudger, who maketh all labour vain, And Hænir, the Utter-Blameless, who wrought the hope of man, And his heart and inmost yearnings, when first the work began;-- The God that was aforetime, and hereafter yet shall be When the new light yet undreamed of shall shine o'er earth and sea." As the gods came near to Hreidmar's dwelling, Loki perceived an otter basking in the sun. This was none other than the dwarf king's second son, Otter, who now succumbed to Loki's usual love of destruction. Killing the unfortunate creature he flung its lifeless body over his shoulders, thinking it would furnish a good dish when meal time came. Loki then hastened after his companions, and entering Hreidmar's house with them, he flung his burden down upon the floor. The moment the dwarf king's glance fell upon the seeming otter, he flew into a towering rage, and ere they could offer effective resistance the gods found themselves lying bound, and they heard Hreidmar declare that never should they recover their liberty until they could satisfy his thirst for gold by giving him of that precious substance enough to cover the skin of the otter inside and out. "'Now hearken the doom I shall speak! Ye stranger-folk shall be free When ye give me the Flame of the Waters, the gathered Gold of the Sea, That Andvari hideth rejoicing in the wan realm pale as the grave; And the Master of Sleight shall fetch it, and the hand that never gave, And the heart that begrudgeth for ever, shall gather and give and rue. --Lo, this is the doom of the wise, and no doom shall be spoken anew.'" As the otter-skin developed the property of stretching itself to a fabulous size, no ordinary treasure could suffice to cover it, and the plight of the gods, therefore, was a very bad one. The case, however, became a little more hopeful when Hreidmar consented to liberate one of their number. The emissary selected was Loki, who lost no time in setting off to the waterfall where the dwarf Andvari dwelt, in order that he might secure the treasure there amassed. "There is a desert of dread in the uttermost part of the world, Where over a wall of mountains is a mighty water hurled, Whose hidden head none knoweth, nor where it meeteth the sea; And that force is the Force of Andvari, and an Elf of the Dark is he. In the cloud and the desert he dwelleth amid that land alone; And his work is the storing of treasure within his house of stone." In spite of diligent search, however, Loki could not find the dwarf, until, perceiving a salmon sporting in the foaming waters, it occurred to him that the dwarf might have assumed this shape. Borrowing Ran's net he soon caught the fish, and learned, as he had suspected, that it was Andvari. Finding that there was nothing else for it, the dwarf now reluctantly brought forth his mighty treasure and surrendered it all, including the Helmet of Dread and a hauberk of gold, reserving only a ring which was gifted with miraculous powers, and which, like a magnet, attracted the precious ore. But the greedy Loki, catching sight of it, wrenched it from off the dwarf's finger and departed laughing, while his victim hurled angry curses after him, declaring that the ring would ever prove its possessor's bane and would cause the death of many. "That gold Which the dwarf possessed Shall to two brothers Be cause of death, And to eight princes, Of dissension. From my wealth no one Shall good derive." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). On arriving at Hreidmar's house, Loki found the mighty treasure none too great, for the skin became larger with every object placed upon it, and he was forced to throw in the ring Andvaranaut (Andvari's loom), which he had intended to retain, in order to secure the release of himself and his companions. Andvari's curse of the gold soon began to operate. Fafnir and Regin both coveted a share, while Hriedmar gloated over his treasure night and day, and would not part with an item of it. Fafnir the invincible, seeing at last that he could not otherwise gratify his lust, slew his father, and seized the whole of the treasure, then, when Regin came to claim a share he drove him scornfully away and bade him earn his own living. Thus exiled, Regin took refuge among men, to whom he taught the arts of sowing and reaping. He showed them how to work metals, sail the seas, tame horses, yoke beasts of burden, build houses, spin, weave, and sew--in short, all the industries of civilised life, which had hitherto been unknown. Years elapsed, and Regin patiently bided his time, hoping that some day he would find a hero strong enough to avenge his wrongs upon Fafnir, whom years of gloating over his treasure had changed into a horrible dragon, the terror of Gnîtaheid (Glittering Heath), where he had taken up his abode. His story finished, Regin turned suddenly to the attentive Sigurd, saying he knew that the young man could slay the dragon if he wished, and inquiring whether he were ready to aid him to avenge his wrongs. "And he spake: 'Hast thou hearkened, Sigurd? Wilt thou help a man that is old To avenge him for his father? Wilt thou win that treasure of Gold And be more than the Kings of the earth? Wilt thou rid the earth of a wrong And heal the woe and the sorrow my heart hath endured o'er long?'" Sigurd's Sword Sigurd immediately assented, on the condition, however, that the curse should be assumed by Regin, who, also, in order to fitly equip the young man for the coming fight, should forge him a sword, which no blow could break. Twice Regin fashioned a marvellous weapon, but twice Sigurd broke it to pieces on the anvil. Then Sigurd bethought him of the broken fragments of Sigmund's weapon which were treasured by his mother, and going to Hiordis he begged these from her; and either he or Regin forged from them a blade so strong that it divided the great anvil in two without being dinted, and whose temper was such that it neatly severed some wool floating gently upon the stream. Sigurd now went upon a farewell visit to Gripir, who, knowing the future, foretold every event in his coming career; after which he took leave of his mother, and accompanied by Regin set sail for the land of his fathers, vowing to slay the dragon when he had fulfilled his first duty, which was to avenge the death of Sigmund. "'First wilt thou, prince, Avenge thy father, And for the wrongs of Eglymi Wilt retaliate. Thou wilt the cruel, The sons of Hunding, Boldly lay low: Thou wilt have victory.'" Lay of Sigurd Fafnicide (Thorpe's tr.). On his way to the land of the Volsungs a most marvellous sight was seen, for there came a man walking on the waters. Sigurd straightway took him on board his dragon ship, and the stranger, who gave his name as Feng or Fiöllnir, promised favourable winds. Also he taught Sigurd how to distinguish auspicious omens. In reality the old man was Odin or Hnikar, the wave-stiller, but Sigurd did not suspect his identity. The Fight with the Dragon Sigurd was entirely successful in his descent upon Lygni, whom he slew, together with many of his followers. He then departed from his reconquered kingdom and returned with Regin to slay Fafnir. Together they rode through the mountains, which ever rose higher and higher before them, until they came to a great tract of desert which Regin said was the haunt of Fafnir. Sigurd now rode on alone until he met a one-eyed stranger, who bade him dig trenches in the middle of the track along which the dragon daily dragged his slimy length to the river to quench his thirst, and to lie in wait in one of these until the monster passed over him, when he could thrust his sword straight into its heart. Sigurd gratefully followed this counsel, and was rewarded with complete success, for as the monster's loathsome folds rolled overhead, he thrust his sword upward into its left breast, and as he sprang out of the trench the dragon lay gasping in the throes of death. "Then all sank into silence, and the son of Sigmund stood On the torn and furrowed desert by the pool of Fafnir's blood, And the Serpent lay before him, dead, chilly, dull, and grey; And over the Glittering Heath fair shone the sun and the day, And a light wind followed the sun and breathed o'er the fateful place, As fresh as it furrows the sea-plain, or bows the acres' face." Regin had prudently remained at a distance until all danger was past, but seeing that his foe was slain, he now came up. He was fearful lest the young hero should claim a reward, so he began to accuse him of having murdered his kin, but, with feigned magnanimity, he declared that instead of requiring life for life, in accordance with the custom of the North, he would consider it sufficient atonement if Sigurd would cut out the monster's heart and roast it for him on a spit. "Then Regin spake to Sigurd: 'Of this slaying wilt thou be free? Then gather thou fire together and roast the heart for me, That I may eat it and live, and be thy master and more; For therein was might and wisdom, and the grudged and hoarded lore: --Or, else depart on thy ways afraid from the Glittering Heath.'" Sigurd was aware that a true warrior never refused satisfaction of some kind to the kindred of the slain, so he agreed to the seemingly small proposal, and immediately prepared to act as cook, while Regin dozed until the meat was ready. After an interval Sigurd touched the roast to ascertain whether it were tender, but burning his fingers severely, he instinctively thrust them into his mouth to allay the smart. No sooner had Fafnir's blood thus touched his lips than he discovered, to his utter surprise, that he could understand the songs of the birds, many of which were already gathering round the carrion. Listening attentively, he found that they were telling how Regin meditated mischief against him, and how he ought to slay the old man and take the gold, which was his by right of conquest, after which he ought to partake of the heart and blood of the dragon. As this coincided with his own wishes, he slew the evil old man with a thrust of his sword and proceeded to eat and drink as the birds had suggested, reserving a small portion of Fafnir's heart for future consumption. He then wandered off in search of the mighty hoard, and, after donning the Helmet of Dread, the hauberk of gold, and the ring Andvaranaut, and loading Greyfell with as much gold as he could carry, he sprang to the saddle and sat listening eagerly to the birds' songs to know what his future course should be. The Sleeping Warrior Maiden Soon he heard of a warrior maiden fast asleep on a mountain and surrounded by a glittering barrier of flames, through which only the bravest of men could pass to arouse her. "On the fell I know A warrior maid to sleep; Over her waves The linden's bane: Ygg whilom stuck A sleep-thorn in the robe Of the maid who Would heroes choose." Lay of Fafnir (Thorpe's tr.). This adventure was the very thing for Sigurd, and he set off at once. The way lay through trackless regions, and the journey was long and cheerless, but at length he came to the Hindarfiall in Frankland, a tall mountain whose cloud-wreathed summit seemed circled by fiery flames. "Long Sigurd rideth the waste, when, lo, on a morning of day, From out of the tangled crag-walls, amidst the cloudland grey, Comes up a mighty mountain, and it is as though there burns A torch amidst of its cloud-wreath; so thither Sigurd turns, For he deems indeed from its topmost to look on the best of the earth; And Greyfell neigheth beneath him, and his heart is full of mirth." Sigurd rode up the mountain side, and the light grew more and more vivid as he proceeded, until when he had neared the summit a barrier of lurid flames stood before him. The fire burned with a roar which would have daunted the heart of any other, but Sigurd remembered the words of the birds, and without a moment's hesitation he plunged bravely into its very midst. "Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he shifts, And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts, And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire's heart; But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart, And high o'er his head it riseth, and wide and wild its roar As it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor: But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye, When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh; The white flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell's mane, And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilt of Fafnir's bane, And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair, But nought his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear; Then it fails and fades and darkens till all seems left behind, And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind." The threatening flames having now died away, Sigurd pursued his journey over a broad tract of white ashes, directing his course to a great castle, with shield-hung walls. The great gates stood wide open, and Sigurd rode through them unchallenged by warders or men at arms. Proceeding cautiously, for he feared some snare, he at last came to the centre of the courtyard, where he saw a recumbent form cased in armour. Sigurd dismounted from his steed and eagerly removed the helmet, when he started with surprise to behold, instead of a warrior, the face of a most beautiful maiden. All his efforts to awaken the sleeper were vain, however, until he had removed her armour, and she lay before him in pure-white linen garments, her long hair falling in golden waves around her. Then as the last fastening of her armour gave way, she opened wide her beautiful eyes, which met the rising sun, and first greeting with rapture the glorious spectacle, she turned to her deliverer, and the young hero and the maiden loved each other at first sight. "Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Volsung's eyes. And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise, For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart that she loved, And she spake unto nothing but him and her lips with the speech-flood moved." The maiden now proceeded to tell Sigurd her story. Her name was Brunhild, and according to some authorities she was the daughter of an earthly king whom Odin had raised to the rank of a Valkyr. She had served him faithfully for a long while, but once had ventured to set her own wishes above his, giving to a younger and therefore more attractive opponent the victory which Odin had commanded for another. In punishment for this act of disobedience, she had been deprived of her office and banished to earth, where Allfather decreed she should wed like any other member of her sex. This sentence filled Brunhild's heart with dismay, for she greatly feared lest it might be her fate to mate with a coward, whom she would despise. To quiet these apprehensions, Odin took her to Hindarfiall or Hindfell, and touching her with the Thorn of Sleep, that she might await in unchanged youth and beauty the coming of her destined husband, he surrounded her with a barrier of flame which none but a hero would venture through. From the top of Hindarfiall, Brunhild now pointed out to Sigurd her former home, at Lymdale or Hunaland, telling him he would find her there whenever he chose to come and claim her as his wife; and then, while they stood on the lonely mountain top together, Sigurd placed the ring Andvaranaut upon her finger, in token of betrothal, swearing to love her alone as long as life endured. "From his hand then draweth Sigurd Andvari's ancient Gold; There is nought but the sky above them as the ring together they hold, The shapen ancient token, that hath no change nor end, No change, and no beginning, no flaw for God to mend: Then Sigurd cried: 'O Brynhild, now hearken while I swear, That the sun shall die in the heavens and the day no more be fair, If I seek not love in Lymdale and the house that fostered thee, And the land where thou awakedst 'twixt the woodland and the sea!' And she cried: 'O Sigurd, Sigurd, now hearken while I swear That the day shall die for ever and the sun to blackness wear, Ere I forget thee, Sigurd, as I lie 'twixt wood and sea In the little land of Lymdale and the house that fostered me!'" The Fostering of Aslaug According to some authorities, the lovers parted after thus plighting their troth; but others say that Sigurd soon sought out and wedded Brunhild, with whom he lived for a while in perfect happiness until forced to leave her and his infant daughter Aslaug. This child, left orphaned at three years of age, was fostered by Brunhild's father, who, driven away from home, concealed her in a cunningly fashioned harp, until reaching a distant land he was murdered by a peasant couple for the sake of the gold they supposed it to contain. Their surprise and disappointment were great indeed when, on breaking the instrument open, they found a beautiful little girl, whom they deemed mute, as she would not speak a word. Time passed, and the child, whom they had trained as a drudge, grew to be a beautiful maiden, and she won the affection of a passing viking, Ragnar Lodbrog, King of the Danes, to whom she told her tale. The viking sailed away to other lands to fulfil the purposes of his voyage, but when a year had passed, during which time he won much glory, he came back and carried away Aslaug as his bride. "She heard a voice she deemed well known, Long waited through dull hours bygone And round her mighty arms were cast: But when her trembling red lips passed From out the heaven of that dear kiss, And eyes met eyes, she saw in his Fresh pride, fresh hope, fresh love, and saw The long sweet days still onward draw, Themselves still going hand in hand, As now they went adown the strand." The Fostering of Aslaug (William Morris). In continuation of the story of Sigurd and Brunhild, however, we are told that the young man went to seek adventures in the great world, where he had vowed, as a true hero, to right the wrong and defend the fatherless and oppressed. The Niblungs In the course of his wanderings, Sigurd came to the land of the Niblungs, the land of continual mist, where Giuki and Grimhild were king and queen. The latter was specially to be feared, as she was well versed in magic lore, and could weave spells and concoct marvellous potions which had power to steep the drinker in temporary forgetfulness and compel him to yield to her will. The king and queen had three sons, Gunnar, Högni, and Guttorm, who were brave young men, and one daughter, Gudrun, the gentlest as well as the most beautiful of maidens. All welcomed Sigurd most warmly, and Giuki invited him to tarry awhile. The invitation was very agreeable after his long wanderings, and Sigurd was glad to stay and share the pleasures and occupations of the Niblungs. He accompanied them to war, and so distinguished himself by his valour, that he won the admiration of Grimhild and she resolved to secure him as her daughter's husband. One day, therefore, she brewed one of her magic potions, and when he had partaken of it at the hand of Gudrun, he utterly forgot Brunhild and his plighted troth, and all his love was diverted unto the queen's daughter. "But the heart was changed in Sigurd; as though it ne'er had been His love of Brynhild perished as he gazed on the Niblung Queen: Brynhild's beloved body was e'en as a wasted hearth, No more for bale or blessing, for plenty or for dearth." Although there was not wanting a vague fear that he had forgotten some event in the past which should rule his conduct, Sigurd asked for and obtained Gudrun's hand, and their wedding was celebrated amid the rejoicings of the people, who loved the young hero very dearly. Sigurd gave his bride some of Fafnir's heart to eat, and the moment she had tasted it her nature was changed, and she began to grow cold and silent to all except him. To further cement his alliance with the two eldest Giukings (as the sons of Giuki were called) Sigurd entered the "doom ring" with them, and the three young men cut a sod which was placed upon a shield, beneath which they stood while they bared and slightly cut their right arms, allowing their blood to mingle in the fresh earth. Then, when they had sworn eternal friendship, the sod was replaced. But although Sigurd loved his wife and felt a true fraternal affection for her brothers, he could not lose his haunting sense of oppression, and was seldom seen to smile as radiantly as of old. Giuki had now died, and his eldest son, Gunnar, ruled in his stead. As the young king was unwedded, Grimhild, his mother, besought him to take a wife, suggesting that none seemed more worthy to become Queen of the Niblungs than Brunhild, who, it was reported, sat in a golden hall surrounded by flames, whence she had declared she would issue only to marry the warrior who would dare brave the fire for her sake. Gunnar's Stratagem Gunnar immediately prepared to seek this maiden, and strengthened by one of his mother's magic potions, and encouraged by Sigurd, who accompanied him, he felt confident of success. But when on reaching the summit of the mountain he would have ridden into the fire, his steed drew back affrighted and he could not induce him to advance a step. Seeing that his companion's steed did not show signs of fear, he asked him of Sigurd; but although Greyfell allowed Gunnar to mount, he would not stir because his master was not on his back. Now as Sigurd carried the Helmet of Dread, and Grimhild had given Gunnar a magic potion in case it should be needed, it was possible for the companions to exchange their forms and features, and seeing that Gunnar could not penetrate the flaming wall Sigurd proposed to assume the appearance of Gunnar and woo the bride for him. The king was greatly disappointed, but as no alternative offered he dismounted, and the necessary exchange was soon effected. Then Sigurd mounted Greyfell in the semblance of his companion, and this time the steed showed not the least hesitation, but leaped into the flames at the first touch on his bridle, and soon brought his rider to the castle, where, in the great hall, sat Brunhild. Neither recognised the other: Sigurd because of the magic spell cast over him by Grimhild; Brunhild because of the altered appearance of her lover. The maiden shrank in disappointment from the dark-haired intruder, for she had deemed it impossible for any but Sigurd to ride through the flaming circle. But she advanced reluctantly to meet her visitor, and when he declared that he had come to woo her, she permitted him to take a husband's place at her side, for she was bound by solemn injunction to accept as her spouse him who should thus seek her through the flames. Three days did Sigurd remain with Brunhild, and his bright sword lay bared between him and his bride. This singular behaviour aroused the curiosity of the maiden, wherefore Sigurd told her that the gods had bidden him celebrate his wedding thus. "There they went in one bed together; but the foster-brother laid 'Twixt him and the body of Brynhild his bright blue battle-blade; And she looked and heeded it nothing; but, e'en as the dead folk lie, With folded hands she lay there, and let the night go by: And as still lay that Image of Gunnar as the dead of life forlorn, And hand on hand he folded as he waited for the morn. So oft in the moonlit minster your fathers may ye see By the side of the ancient mothers await the day to be." When the fourth morning dawned, Sigurd drew the ring Andvaranaut from Brunhild's hand, and, replacing it by another, he received her solemn promise that in ten days' time she would appear at the Niblung court to take up her duties as queen and faithful wife. "'I thank thee, King, for thy goodwill, and thy pledge of love I take, Depart with my troth to thy people: but ere full ten days are o'er I shall come to the Sons of the Niblungs, and then shall we part no more Till the day of the change of our life-days, when Odin and Freya shall call.'" The promise given, Sigurd again passed out of the palace, through the ashes, and joined Gunnar, with whom, after he had reported the success of his venture, he hastened to exchange forms once more. The warriors then turned their steeds homeward, and only to Gudrun did Sigurd reveal the secret of her brother's wooing, and he gave her the fatal ring, little suspecting the many woes which it was destined to occasion. The Coming of Brunhild True to her promise, Brunhild appeared ten days later, and solemnly blessing the house she was about to enter, she greeted Gunnar kindly, and allowed him to conduct her to the great hall, where sat Sigurd beside Gudrun. The Volsung looked up at that moment and as he encountered Brunhild's reproachful eyes Grimhild's spell was broken and the past came back in a flood of bitter recollection. It was too late, however: both were in honour bound, he to Gudrun and she to Gunnar, whom she passively followed to the high seat, to sit beside him as the scalds entertained the royal couple with the ancient lays of their land. The days passed, and Brunhild remained apparently indifferent, but her heart was hot with anger, and often did she steal out of her husband's palace to the forest, where she could give vent to her grief in solitude. Meanwhile, Gunnar perceived the cold indifference of his wife to his protestations of affection, and began to have jealous suspicions, wondering whether Sigurd had honestly told the true story of the wooing, and fearing lest he had taken advantage of his position to win Brunhild's love. Sigurd alone continued the even tenor of his way, striving against none but tyrants and oppressors, and cheering all by his kindly words and smile. The Quarrel of the Queens On a day the queens went down together to the Rhine to bathe, and as they were entering the water Gudrun claimed precedence by right of her husband's courage. Brunhild refused to yield what she deemed her right, and a quarrel ensued, in the course of which Gudrun accused her sister-in-law of not having kept her faith, producing the ring Andvaranaut in support of her charge. The sight of the fatal ring in the hand of her rival crushed Brunhild, and she fled homeward, and lay in speechless grief day after day, until all thought she must die. In vain did Gunnar and the members of the royal family seek her in turn and implore her to speak; she would not utter a word until Sigurd came and inquired the cause of her unutterable grief. Then, like a long-pent-up stream, her love and anger burst forth, and she overwhelmed the hero with reproaches, until his heart so swelled with grief for her sorrow that the tight bands of his strong armour gave way. "Out went Sigurd From that interview Into the hall of kings, Writhing with anguish; So that began to start The ardent warrior's Iron-woven sark Off from his sides." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Words had no power to mend that woeful situation, and Brunhild refused to heed when Sigurd offered to repudiate Gudrun, saying, as she dismissed him, that she would not be faithless to Gunnar. The thought that two living men had called her wife was unendurable to her pride, and the next time her husband sought her presence she implored him to put Sigurd to death, thus increasing his jealousy and suspicion. He refused to deal violently with Sigurd, however, because of their oath of good fellowship, and so she turned to Högni for aid. He, too, did not wish to violate his oath, but he induced Guttorm, by means of much persuasion and one of Grimhild's potions, to undertake the dastardly deed. The Death of Sigurd Accordingly, in the dead of night, Guttorm stole into Sigurd's chamber, weapon in hand; but as he bent over the bed he saw Sigurd's bright eyes fixed upon him, and fled precipitately. Later on he returned and the scene was repeated; but towards morning, stealing in for the third time, he found the hero asleep, and traitorously drove his spear through his back. Although wounded unto death, Sigurd raised himself in bed, and seizing his renowned sword which hung beside him, he flung it with all his remaining strength at the flying murderer, cutting him in two as he reached the door. Then, with a last whispered farewell to the terrified Gudrun, Sigurd sank back and breathed his last. "'Mourn not, O Gudrun, this stroke is the last of ill; Fear leaveth the House of the Niblungs on this breaking of the morn; Mayst thou live, O woman beloved, unforsaken, unforlorn!'   'It is Brynhild's deed,' he murmured, 'and the woman that loves me well; Nought now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell. I have done many deeds in my life-days; and all these, and my love, they lie In the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by. I have done and I may not undo, I have given and I take not again: Art thou other than I, Allfather, wilt thou gather my glory in vain?'" Sigurd's infant son was slain at the same time, and poor Gudrun mourned over her dead in silent, tearless grief; while Brunhild laughed aloud, thereby incurring the wrath of Gunnar, who repented, too late, that he had not taken measures to avert the dastardly crime. The grief of the Niblungs found expression in the public funeral celebration which was shortly held. A mighty pyre was erected, to which were brought precious hangings, fresh flowers, and glittering arms, as was the custom for the burial of a prince; and as these sad preparations took shape, Gudrun was the object of tender solicitude from the women, who, fearing lest her heart would break, tried to open the flood-gate of her tears by recounting the bitterest sorrows they had known, one telling of how she too had lost all she held dear. But these attempts to make her weep were utterly vain, until at length they laid her husband's head in her lap, bidding her kiss him as if he were still alive; then her tears began to flow in torrents. The reaction soon set in for Brunhild also; her resentment was all forgotten when she saw the body of Sigurd laid on the pyre, arrayed as if for battle in burnished armour, with the Helmet of Dread at his head, and accompanied by his steed, which was to be burned with him, together with several of his faithful servants who would not survive his loss. She withdrew to her apartment, and after distributing her possessions among her handmaidens, she donned her richest array, and stabbed herself as she lay stretched upon her bed. The tidings soon reached Gunnar, who came with all haste to his wife and just in time to receive her dying injunction to lay her beside the hero she loved, with the glittering, unsheathed sword between them, as it had lain when he had wooed her by proxy. When she had breathed her last, these wishes were faithfully executed, and her body was burned with Sigurd's amid the lamentations of all the Niblungs. In Richard Wagner's story of "The Ring" Brunhild's end is more picturesque. Mounted on her steed, as when she led the battle-maidens at the command of Odin, she rode into the flames which leaped to heaven from the great funeral pyre, and passed for ever from the sight of men. "They are gone--the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient Earth: It shall labour and bear the burden as before that day of their birth: It shall groan in its blind abiding for the day that Sigurd hath sped, And the hour that Brynhild hath hastened, and the dawn that waketh the dead: It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no more, Till the new sun beams on Baldur and the happy sea-less shore." The death scene of Sigurd (Siegfried) is far more powerful in the Nibelungenlied. In the Teutonic version his treacherous assailant lures him from a hunting party in the forest to quench his thirst at a brook, where he thrusts him through the back with a spear. His body was thence borne home by the hunters and laid at his wife's feet. The Flight of Gudrun Gudrun, still inconsolable, and loathing the kindred who had treacherously robbed her of all joy in life, fled from her father's house and took refuge with Elf, Sigurd's foster father, who, after the death of Hiordis, had married Thora, the daughter of King Hakon. The two women became great friends, and here Gudrun tarried several years, employing herself in embroidering upon tapestry the great deeds of Sigurd, and watching over her little daughter Swanhild, whose bright eyes reminded her vividly of the husband whom she had lost. Atli, King of the Huns In the meantime, Atli, Brunhild's brother, who was now King of the Huns, had sent to Gunnar to demand atonement for his sister's death; and to satisfy his claims Gunnar had promised that when her years of widowhood had been accomplished he would give him Gudrun's hand in marriage. Time passed, and Atli clamoured for the fulfilment of his promise, wherefore the Niblung brothers, with their mother Grimhild, went to seek the long-absent princess, and by the aid of the magic potion administered by Grimhild they succeeded in persuading Gudrun to leave little Swanhild in Denmark and to become Atli's wife in the land of the Huns. Nevertheless, Gudrun secretly detested her husband, whose avaricious tendencies were extremely repugnant to her; and even the birth of two sons, Erp and Eitel, did not console her for the death of her loved ones and the absence of Swanhild. Her thoughts were continually of the past, and she often spoke of it, little suspecting that her descriptions of the wealth of the Niblungs had excited Atli's greed, and that he was secretly planning some pretext for seizing it. Atli at last decided to send Knefrud or Wingi, one of his servants, to invite the Niblung princes to visit his court, intending to slay them when he should have them in his power; but Gudrun, fathoming this design, sent a rune message to her brothers, together with the ring Andvaranaut, around which she had twined a wolf's hair. On the way, however, the messenger partly effaced the runes, thus changing their meaning; and when he appeared before the Niblungs, Gunnar accepted the invitation, in spite of Högni's and Grimhild's warnings, and an ominous dream of Glaumvor, his second wife. Burial of the Niblung Treasure Before departing, however, Gunnar was prevailed upon to bury secretly the great Niblung hoard in the Rhine, and he sank it in a deep hole in the bed of the river, the position of which was known to the royal brothers only, who took a solemn oath never to reveal it. "Down then and whirling outward the ruddy Gold fell forth, As a flame in the dim grey morning, flashed out a kingdom's worth; Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foam Flew up o'er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling Gold fell home, Unheard, unseen for ever, a wonder and a tale, Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail." The Treachery of Atli In martial array the royal band then rode out of the city of the Niblungs, which they were never again to see, and after many adventures they entered the land of the Huns, and arrived at Atli's hall, where, finding that they had been foully entrapped, they slew the traitor Knefrud, and prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Gudrun hastened to meet them with tender embraces, and, seeing that they must fight, she grasped a weapon and loyally aided them in the terrible massacre which ensued. After the first onslaught, Gunnar kept up the spirits of his followers by playing on his harp, which he laid aside only when the assaults were renewed. Thrice the brave Niblungs resisted the assault of the Huns, until all save Gunnar and Högni had perished, and the king and his brother, wounded, faint, and weary, fell into the hands of their foes, who cast them, securely bound, into a dungeon to await death. Atli had prudently abstained from taking any active part in the fight, and he now had his brothers-in-law brought in turn before him, promising them freedom if they would reveal the hiding-place of the golden hoard; but they proudly kept silence, and it was only after much torture that Gunnar spake, saying that he had sworn a solemn oath never to reveal the secret as long as Högni lived. At the same time he declared that he would believe his brother dead only when his heart was brought to him on a platter. "With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: 'O fool, hast thou heard it told Who won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold? It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the best: He rode from the North and the mountains, and became my summer guest, My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire, And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire; The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong, The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong: Ah, oft in the world, henceforward, shall the tale be told of the deed, And I, e'en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs' Need: For I sat night-long in my armour, and when light was wide o'er the land I slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand. And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblung's wreck, And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar's neck; And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest, Let me see the heart of Högni cut quick from his living breast, And laid on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold, And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.'" Urged by greed, Atli gave immediate orders that Högni's heart should be brought; but his servants, fearing to lay hands on such a grim warrior, slew the cowardly scullion Hialli. The trembling heart of this poor wretch called forth contemptuous words from Gunnar, who declared that such a timorous organ could never have belonged to his fearless brother. Atli again issued angry commands, and this time the unquivering heart of Högni was produced, whereupon Gunnar, turning to the monarch, solemnly swore that since the secret now rested with him alone it would never be revealed. The Last of the Niblungs Livid with anger, the king bade his servants throw Gunnar, with hands bound, into a den of venomous snakes; but this did not daunt the reckless Niblung, and, his harp having been flung after him in derision, he calmly sat in the pit, harping with his toes, and lulling to sleep all the reptiles save one only. It was said that Atli's mother had taken the form of this snake, and that she it was who now bit him in the side, and silenced his triumphant song for ever. To celebrate his triumph, Atli now ordered a great feast, commanding Gudrun to be present to wait upon him. At this banquet he ate and drank heartily, little suspecting that his wife had slain both his sons, and had served up their roasted hearts and their blood mixed with wine in cups made of their skulls. After a time the king and his guests became intoxicated, when Gudrun, according to one version of the story, set fire to the palace, and as the drunken men were aroused, too late to escape, she revealed what she had done, and first stabbing her husband, she calmly perished in the flames with the Huns. Another version relates, however, that she murdered Atli with Sigurd's sword, and having placed his body on a ship, which she sent adrift, she cast herself into the sea and was drowned. "She spread out her arms as she spake it, and away from the earth she leapt And cut off her tide of returning: for the sea-waves over her swept, And their will is her will henceforward, and who knoweth the deeps of the sea, And the wealth of the bed of Gudrun, and the days that yet shall be?" According to a third and very different version, Gudrun was not drowned, but was borne by the waves to the land where Jonakur was king. There she became his wife, and the mother of three sons, Sörli, Hamdir, and Erp. She recovered possession, moreover, of her beloved daughter Swanhild, who, in the meantime, had grown into a beautiful maiden of marriageable age. Swanhild Swanhild became affianced to Ermenrich, King of Gothland, who sent his son, Randwer, and one of his servants, Sibich, to escort the bride to his kingdom. Sibich was a traitor, and as part of a plan to compass the death of the royal family that he might claim the kingdom, he accused Randwer of having tried to win his young stepmother's affections. This accusation so roused the anger of Ermenrich that he ordered his son to be hanged, and Swanhild to be trampled to death under the feet of wild horses. The beauty of this daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun was such, however, that even the wild steeds could not be induced to harm her until she had been hidden from their sight under a great blanket, when they trod her to death under their cruel hoofs. Upon learning the fate of her beloved daughter, Gudrun called her three sons to her side, and girding them with armour and weapons against which nothing but stone could prevail, she bade them depart and avenge their murdered sister, after which she died of grief, and was burned on a great pyre. The three youths, Sörli, Hamdir, and Erp, proceeded to Ermenrich's kingdom, but ere they met their foes, the two eldest, deeming Erp too young to assist them, taunted him with his small size, and finally slew him. Sörli and Hamdir then attacked Ermenrich, cut off his hands and feet, and would have slain him but for a one-eyed stranger who suddenly appeared and bade the bystanders throw stones at the young men. His orders were immediately carried out, and Sörli and Hamdir soon fell slain under the shower of stones, which, as we have seen, alone had power to injure them. "Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foes of God he slew; How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of Waters he drew; How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the Bright, And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men's sight. Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day, And the latter world's confusion, and Sigurd gone away; Now ye know of the Need of the Niblungs and the end of broken troth, All the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth." Interpretation of the Saga This story of the Volsungs is supposed by some authorities to be a series of sun myths, in which Sigi, Rerir, Volsung, Sigmund, and Sigurd in turn personify the glowing orb of day. They are all armed with invincible swords, the sunbeams, and all travel through the world fighting against their foes, the demons of cold and darkness. Sigurd, like Balder, is beloved of all; he marries Brunhild, the dawn maiden, whom he finds in the midst of flames, the flush of morn, and parts from her only to find her again when his career is ended. His body is burned on the funeral pyre, which, like Balder's, represents either the setting sun or the last gleam of summer, of which he too is a type. The slaying of Fafnir symbolises the destruction of the demon of cold or darkness, who has stolen the golden hoard of summer or the yellow rays of the sun. According to other authorities, this Saga is based upon history. Atli is the cruel Attila, the "Scourge of God," while Gunnar is Gundicarius, a Burgundian monarch, whose kingdom was destroyed by the Huns, and who was slain with his brothers in 451. Gudrun is the Burgundian princess Ildico, who slew her husband on her wedding-night, as has already been related, using the glittering blade which had once belonged to the sun-god to avenge her murdered kinsmen. CHAPTER XXVII: THE STORY OF FRITHIOF Bishop Tegnér Probably no writer of the nineteenth century did so much to awaken interest in the literary treasures of Scandinavia as Bishop Esaias Tegnér, whom a Swedish author characterised as, "that mighty Genie who organises even disorder." Tegnér's "Frithiof Saga" has been translated once at least into every European tongue, and some twenty times into English and German. Goethe spoke of the work with the greatest enthusiasm, and the tale, which gives a matchless picture of the life of our heathen ancestors in the North, drew similar praise from Longfellow, who considered it to be one of the most remarkable productions of his century. Although Tegnér has chosen for his theme the Frithiof saga only, we find that that tale is the sequel to the older but less interesting Thorsten saga, of which we give here a very brief outline, merely to enable the reader to understand clearly every allusion in the more modern poem. As is so frequently the case with these ancient tales, the story begins with Haloge (Loki), who came north with Odin, and began to reign over northern Norway, which from him was called Halogaland. According to Northern mythology, this god had two lovely daughters. They were carried off by bold suitors, who, banished from the mainland by Haloge's curses and magic spells, took refuge with their newly won wives upon neighbouring islands. Birth of Viking Thus it happened that Haloge's grandson, Viking, was born upon the island of Bornholm, in the Baltic Sea, where he dwelt until he was fifteen, and where he became the biggest and strongest man of his time. Rumours of his valour finally reached Hunvor, a Swedish princess, who was oppressed by the attentions of a gigantic suitor whom none dared drive away, and she sent for Viking to deliver her. Thus summoned, the youth departed, after having received from his father a magic sword named Angurvadel, whose blows would prove fatal even to a giant like the suitor of Hunvor. A "holmgang," as a duel was termed in the North, ensued as soon as the hero arrived upon the scene, and Viking, having slain his antagonist, could have married the princess had it not been considered disgraceful for a Northman to marry before he was twenty. To beguile the time of waiting for his promised bride, Viking set out in a well-manned dragon ship; and cruising about the Northern and Southern seas, he met with countless adventures. During this time he was particularly persecuted by the kindred of the giant he had slain, who were adepts in magic, and they brought upon him innumerable perils by land and sea. Aided and abetted by his bosom friend, Halfdan, Viking escaped every danger, slew many of his foes, and, after rescuing Hunvor, whom, in the meantime, the enemy had carried off to India, he settled down in Sweden. His friend, faithful in peace as well as in war, settled near him, and married also, choosing for wife Ingeborg, Hunvor's attendant. The saga now describes the long, peaceful winters, when the warriors feasted and listened to the tales of scalds, rousing themselves to energetic efforts only when returning spring again permitted them to launch their dragon ships and set out once more upon their piratical expeditions. "Then the Scald took his harp and sang, And loud through the music rang The sound of that shining word; And the harp-strings a clangour made, As if they were struck with the blade Of a sword. "And the Berserks round about Broke forth into a shout That made the rafters ring: They smote with their fists on the board, And shouted, 'Long live the Sword, And the King!'" Longfellow's Saga of King Olaf. In the old story the scalds relate with great gusto every phase of attack and defence during cruise and raid, and describe every blow given and received, dwelling with satisfaction upon the carnage and lurid flames which envelop both enemies and ships in common ruin. A fierce fight is often an earnest of future friendship, however, and we are told that Halfdan and Viking, having failed to conquer Njorfe, a foeman of mettle, sheathed their swords after a most obstinate struggle, and accepted their enemy as a third link in their close bond of friendship. On returning home from one of these customary raids, Viking lost his beloved wife; and, entrusting her child, Ring, to the care of a foster father, after undergoing a short period of mourning, the brave warrior married again. This time his marital bliss was more lasting, for the saga tells that his second wife bore him nine stalwart sons. Njorfe, King of Uplands, in Norway, also rejoiced in a family of nine brave sons. Now, although their fathers were united in bonds of the closest friendship, having sworn blood brotherhood according to the true Northern rites, the young men were jealous of one another, and greatly inclined to quarrel. The Game of Ball Notwithstanding this smouldering animosity, the youths often met; and the saga relates that they used to play ball together, and gives a description of the earliest ball game on record in the Northern annals. Viking's sons, as tall and strong as he, were inclined to be rather reckless of their opponents' welfare, and, judging from the following account, translated from the old saga, the players were often left in as sorry a condition as after a modern game. "The next morning the brothers went to the games, and generally had the ball during the day; they pushed men and let them fall roughly, and beat others. At night three men had their arms broken, and many were bruised or maimed." The game between Njorfe's and Viking's sons culminated in a disagreement, and one of Njorfe's sons struck one of his opponents a dangerous and treacherous blow. Prevented from taking his revenge then and there by the interference of the spectators, the injured man made a trivial excuse to return to the ground alone; and, meeting his assailant there, he slew him. The Blood Feud When Viking heard that one of his sons had slain one of his friend's children, he was very indignant, and mindful of his oath to avenge all Njorfe's wrongs, he banished the young murderer. The other brothers, on hearing this sentence, vowed that they would accompany the exile, and so Viking sorrowfully bade them farewell, giving his sword Angurvadel to Thorsten, the eldest, and cautioning him to remain quietly on an island in Lake Wener until all danger of retaliation on the part of Njorfe's remaining sons should be over. The young men obeyed; but Njorfe's sons were determined to avenge their brother, and although they had no boats to convey them over the lake, they made use of a conjurer's art to bring about a great frost. Accompanied by many armed men, they then stole noiselessly over the ice to attack Thorsten and his brothers, and a terrible carnage ensued. Only two of the attacking party managed to escape, but they left, as they fancied, all their foes among the dead. Then came Viking to bury his sons, and he found that two of them, Thorsten and Thorer, were still alive; whereupon he secretly conveyed them to a cellar beneath his dwelling, and in due time they recovered from their wounds. Njorfe's two surviving sons soon discovered by magic arts that their opponents were not dead, and they made a second desperate but vain attempt to kill them. Viking saw that the quarrel would be incessantly renewed if his sons remained at home; so he now sent them to Halfdan, whose court they reached after a series of adventures which in many points resemble those of Theseus on his way to Athens. When spring came round Thorsten embarked on a piratical excursion, in the course of which he encountered Jokul, Njorfe's eldest son, who, meanwhile, had taken forcible possession of the kingdom of Sogn, having killed the king, banished his heir, Belé, and changed his beautiful daughter, Ingeborg, into the similitude of an old witch. Throughout the story Jokul is represented as somewhat of a coward, for he resorted by preference to magic when he wished to injure Viking's sons. Thus he stirred up great tempests, and Thorsten, after twice suffering shipwreck, was only saved from the waves by the seeming witch, whom he promised to marry in gratitude for her good offices. Thorsten, advised by Ingeborg, now went in search of Belé, whom he found and replaced upon his hereditary throne, having sworn eternal friendship with him. After this, the baleful spell was removed, and Ingeborg, now revealed in her native beauty, was united to Thorsten, and dwelt with him at Framnäs. Thorsten and Belé Every spring Thorsten and Belé set out together in their ships; and, upon one of these expeditions, they joined forces with Angantyr, a foe whose mettle they had duly tested, and proceeded to recover possession of a priceless treasure, a magic dragon ship named Ellida, which Ægir, god of the sea, had once given to Viking in reward for hospitable treatment, and which had been stolen from him. "A royal gift to behold, for the swelling planks of its framework Were not fastened with nails, as is wont, but grown in together. Its shape was that of a dragon when swimming, but forward Its head rose proudly on high, the throat with yellow gold flaming; Its belly was spotted with red and yellow, but back by the rudder Coiled out its mighty tail in circles, all scaly with silver; Black wings with edges of red; when all were expanded Ellida raced with the whistling storm, but outstript the eagle. When filled to the edge with warriors, it sailed o'er the waters, You'd deem it a floating fortress, or warlike abode of a monarch. The ship was famed far and wide, and of ships was first in the North." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.). The next season, Thorsten, Belé, and Angantyr conquered the Orkney Islands, which were given as a kingdom to the latter, he voluntarily pledging himself to pay a yearly tribute to Belé. Next Thorsten and Belé went in quest of a magic ring, or armlet, once forged by Völund, the smith, and stolen by Soté, a famous pirate. This bold robber was so afraid lest some one should gain possession of the magic ring, that he had buried himself alive with it in a mound in Bretland. Here his ghost was said to keep constant watch over it, and when Thorsten entered his tomb, Belé, who waited outside, heard the sound of frightful blows given and returned, and saw lurid gleams of supernatural fire. When Thorsten finally staggered out of the mound, pale and bloody, but triumphant, he refused to speak of the horrors he had encountered to win the coveted treasure, but often would he say, as he showed it, "I trembled but once in my life, and 'twas when I seized it!" Birth of Frithiof and Ingeborg Thus owner of the three greatest treasures of the North, Thorsten returned home to Framnäs, where Ingeborg bore him a fine boy, Frithiof, while two sons, Halfdan and Helgé, were born to Belé. The lads played together, and were already well grown when Ingeborg, Belé's little daughter, was born, and some time later the child was entrusted to the care of Hilding, who was already Frithiof's foster father, as Thorsten's frequent absences made it difficult for him to undertake the training of his boy. "Jocund they grew, in guileless glee; Young Frithiof was the sapling tree; In budding beauty by his side, Sweet Ingeborg, the garden's pride." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.). Frithiof soon became hardy and fearless under his foster father's training, and Ingeborg rapidly developed the sweetest traits of character and loveliness. Both were happiest when together; and as they grew older their childish affection daily became deeper and more intense, until Hilding, perceiving this state of affairs, bade the youth remember that he was a subject of the king, and therefore no mate for his only daughter. "To Odin, in his star-lit sky, Ascends her titled ancestry; But Thorsten's son art thou; give way! For 'like thrives best with like,' they say." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Frithiof's Love for Ingeborg These wise admonitions came too late, however, and Frithiof vehemently declared that he would win the fair Ingeborg for his bride in spite of all obstacles and his more humble origin. Shortly after this Belé and Thorsten met for the last time, near the magnificent shrine of Balder, where the king, feeling that his end was near, had convened a solemn assembly, or Thing, of all his principal subjects, in order to present his sons Helgé and Halfdan to the people as his chosen successors. The young heirs were very coldly received on this occasion, for Helgé was of a sombre and taciturn disposition, and inclined to the life of a priest, and Halfdan was of a weak, effeminate nature, and noted for his love of pleasure rather than of war and the chase. Frithiof, who was present, and stood beside them, was the object of many admiring glances from the throng. "But close behind them Frithiof goes, Wrapp'd in his mantle blue; His height a whole head taller rose Than that of both the two. He stands between the brothers there-- As though the ripe day stood Atween young morning rosy-fair, And night within the wood." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). After giving his last instructions and counsel to his sons, and speaking kindly to Frithiof, for whom he entertained a warm regard, the old king turned to his lifelong companion, Thorsten, to take leave of him, but the old warrior declared that they would not long be parted. Belé then spoke again to his sons, and bade them erect his howe, or funeral mound, within sight of that of Thorsten, that their spirits might commune over the waters of the narrow firth which would flow between them, that so they might not be sundered even in death. Helgé and Halfdan These instructions were piously carried out when, shortly after, the aged companions breathed their last; and the great barrows having been erected, the brothers, Helgé and Halfdan, began to rule their kingdom, while Frithiof, their former playmate, withdrew to his own place at Framnäs, a fertile homestead, lying in a snug valley enclosed by the towering mountains and the waters of the ever-changing firth. "Three miles extended around the fields of the homestead; on three sides Valleys and mountains and hills, but on the fourth side was the ocean. Birch-woods crowned the summits, but over the down-sloping hill-sides Flourished the golden corn, and man-high was waving the rye-field." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.). But although surrounded by faithful retainers, and blessed with much wealth and the possession of the famous treasures of his hero sire, the sword Angurvadel, the Völund ring, and the matchless dragon ship Ellida, Frithiof was unhappy, because he could no longer see the fair Ingeborg daily. All his former spirits revived, however, when in the spring, at his invitation, both kings came to visit him, together with their fair sister, and once again they spent long hours in cheerful companionship. As they were thus constantly thrown together, Frithiof found opportunity to make known to Ingeborg his deep affection, and he received in return an avowal of her love. "He sat by her side, and he pressed her soft hand, And he felt a soft pressure responsive and bland; Whilst his love-beaming gaze Was returned as the sun's in the moon's placid rays." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.). Frithiof's Suit When the visit was ended and the guests had departed, Frithiof informed his confidant and chief companion, Björn, of his determination to follow them and openly ask for Ingeborg's hand. His ship was set free from its moorings and it swooped like an eagle over to the shore near Balder's shrine, where the royal brothers were seated in state on Belé's tomb to listen to the petitions of their subjects. Straightway Frithiof presented himself before them, and manfully made his request, adding that the old king had always loved him and would surely have granted his prayer. "No king was my sire, not a jarl, ev'n--'tis true; Yet Scald-songs his mem'ry and exploits renew; The Rune-stones will tell On high-vaulted cairn what my race hath done well. "With ease could I win me both empire and land;-- But rather I stay on my forefathers' strand; While arms I can wield-- Both poverty's hut and king's palace I'll shield. "On Belé's round barrow we stand; each word In the dark deeps beneath us he hears and has heard; With Frithiof pleadeth The old Chief in his cairn: think! your answer thought needeth." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Then he went on to promise lifelong fealty and the service of his strong right arm in exchange for the boon he craved. As Frithiof ceased King Helgé rose, and regarding the young man scornfully, he said: "Our sister is not for a peasant's son; proud chiefs of the Northland may dispute for her hand, but not thou. As for thy arrogant proffer, know that I can protect my kingdom. Yet if thou wouldst be my man, place in my household mayst thou have." Enraged at the insult thus publicly offered, Frithiof drew his invincible sword; but, remembering that he stood on a consecrated spot, he struck only at the royal shield, which fell in two pieces clashing to the ground. Then striding back to his ship in sullen silence, he embarked and sailed away. "And lo! cloven in twain at a stroke Fell King Helge's gold shield from its pillar of oak: At the clang of the blow, The live started above, the dead started below." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.). Sigurd Ring a Suitor After his departure came messengers from Sigurd Ring, the aged King of Ringric, in Norway, who, having lost his wife, sent to Helgé and Halfdan to ask Ingeborg's hand in marriage. Before returning answer to this royal suitor, Helgé consulted the Vala, or prophetess, and the priests, who all declared that the omens were not in favour of the marriage. Upon this Helgé assembled his people to hear the word which the messengers were to carry to their master, but unfortunately King Halfdan gave way to his waggish humour, and made scoffing reference to the advanced age of the royal suitor. These impolitic words were reported to King Ring, and so offended him that he immediately collected an army and prepared to march against the Kings of Sogn to avenge the insult with his sword. When the rumour of his approach reached the cowardly brothers they were terrified, and fearing to encounter the foe unaided, they sent Hilding to Frithiof to implore his help. Hilding found Frithiof playing chess with Björn, and immediately made known his errand. "'From Bele's high heirs I come with courteous words and prayers Disastrous tidings rouse the brave; On thee a nation's hope relies.   In Balder's fane, griefs loveliest prey, Sweet Ing'borg weeps the livelong day: Say, can her tears unheeded fall, Nor call her champion to her side?'" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.). While the old man was speaking Frithiof continued to play, ever and anon interjecting an enigmatical reference to the game, until at this point he said: "Björn; thou in vain my queen pursuest, She from childhood dearest, truest! She's my game's most darling piece, and Come what will--I'll save my queen!" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Hilding did not understand such mode of answering, and at length rebuked Frithiof for his indifference. Then Frithiof rose, and pressing kindly the old man's hand, he bade him tell the kings that he was too deeply offended to listen to their appeal. Helgé and Halfdan, thus forced to fight without their bravest leader, preferred to make a treaty with Sigurd Ring, and they agreed to give him not only their sister Ingeborg, but also a yearly tribute. At Balder's Shrine While they were thus engaged at Sogn Sound, Frithiof hastened to Balder's temple, to which Ingeborg had been sent for security, and where, as Hilding had declared, he found her a prey to grief. Now although it was considered a sacrilege for man and woman to exchange a word in the sacred building, Frithiof could not forbear to console her; and, forgetting all else, he spoke to her and comforted her, quieting all her apprehensions of the gods' anger by assuring her that Balder, the good, must view their innocent passion with approving eyes, for love so pure as theirs could defile no sanctuary; and they ended by plighting their troth before the shrine of Balder. "'Thou whisp'rest "Balder,"--His wrath fearest;-- That gentle god all anger flies. We worship here a Lover, dearest! Our hearts' love is his sacrifice; That god whose brow beams sunshine-splendour, Whose faith lasts through eternity,-- Was not his love to beauteous Nanna As pure, as warm, as mine to thee? "'His image see!--himself broods o'er it-- How mild, how kind, his bright eyes move! An off'ring bear I here before it, A warm heart full of purest love. Come, kneel with me! no altar incense To Balder's soul more grateful is Than two hearts, vowing in his presence A mutual faith as true as his!'" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Reassured by this reasoning, which received added strength from the voice which spoke loudly from her own heart, Ingeborg could not refuse to see and converse with Frithiof. During the kings' absence the young lovers met every day, and they exchanged love-tokens, Frithiof giving to Ingeborg Völund's arm-ring, which she solemnly promised to send back to her lover should she be compelled to break her promise to live for him alone. Frithiof lingered at Framnäs until the kings' return, when, yielding to the fond entreaties of Ingeborg the Fair, he again appeared before them, and pledged himself to free them from their thraldom to Sigurd Ring if they would only reconsider their decision and promise him their sister's hand. "'War stands and strikes His glitt'ring shield within thy boundaries; Thy realm, King Helge, is in jeopardy: But give thy sister, and I'll lend mine arm Thy guard in battle. It may stead thee well. Come! let this grudge between us be forgotten, Unwilling bear I such 'gainst Ing'borg's brother. Be counsell'd, King! be just! and save at once Thy golden crown and thy fair sister's heart! Here is my hand: by Asa-Thor I swear Never again 'tis stretch'd in reconcilement!'" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Frithiof Banished But although this offer was received with acclamation by the assembled warriors, Helgé scornfully demanded of Frithiof whether he had spoken with Ingeborg and so defiled the temple of Balder. A shout of "Say nay, Frithiof! say nay!" broke from the ring of warriors, but he proudly answered: "I would not lie to gain Valhalla. I have spoken to thy sister, Helgé, yet have I not broken Balder's peace." A murmur of horror passed through the ranks at this avowal, and when the harsh voice of Helgé was raised in judgment, none was there to gainsay the justice of the sentence. This apparently was not a harsh one, but Helgé well knew that it meant death, and he so intended it. Far westward lay the Orkney Islands, ruled by Jarl Angantyr, whose yearly tribute to Belé was withheld now that the old king lay in his cairn. Hard-fisted he was said to be, and heavy of hand, and to Frithiof was given the task of demanding the tribute face to face. Before he sailed upon the judgment-quest, however, he once more sought Ingeborg, and implored her to elope with him to a home in the sunny South, where her happiness should be his law, and where she should rule over his subjects as his honoured wife. But Ingeborg sorrowfully refused to accompany him, saying that, since her father was no more, she was in duty bound to obey her brothers implicitly, and could not marry without their consent. The fiery spirit of Frithiof was at first impatient under this disappointment of his hopes, but in the end his noble nature conquered, and after a heartrending parting scene, he embarked upon Ellida, and sorrowfully sailed out of the harbour, while Ingeborg, through a mist of tears, watched the sail as it faded and disappeared in the distance. The vessel was barely out of sight when Helgé sent for two witches named Heid and Ham, bidding them by incantations to stir up a tempest at sea in which it would be impossible for even the god-given vessel Ellida to live, that so all on board should perish. The witches immediately complied; and with Helgé's aid they soon stirred up a storm the fury of which is unparalleled in history. "Helgé on the strand Chants his wizard-spell, Potent to command Fiends of earth or hell. Gathering darkness shrouds the sky; Hark, the thunder's distant roll! Lurid lightnings, as they fly, Streak with blood the sable pole. Ocean, boiling to its base, Scatters wide its wave of foam; Screaming, as in fleetest chase, Sea-birds seek their island home." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.). "Then the storm unfetter'd wingeth Wild his course; in Ocean's foam Now he dips him, now up-swingeth, Whirling toward the God's own home: Rides each Horror-spirit, warning, High upon the topmost wave-- Up from out the white, vast, yawning, Bottomless, unfathom'd grave." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). The Tempest Unfrighted by tossing waves and whistling blasts, Frithiof sang a cheery song to reassure his terrified crew; but when the peril grew so great that his exhausted followers gave themselves up for lost, he bethought him of tribute to the goddess Ran, who ever requires gold of them who would rest in peace under the ocean wave. Taking his armlet, he hewed it with his sword and made fair division among his men. "Who goes empty-handed Down to sea-blue Ran? Cold her kisses strike, and Fleeting her embrace is." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). He then bade Björn hold the rudder, and himself climbed to the mast-top to view the horizon. While perched there he descried a whale, upon which the two witches were riding the storm. Speaking to his good ship, which was gifted with power of understanding and could obey his commands, he now ran down both whale and witches, and the sea was reddened with their blood. At the same instant the wind fell, the waves ceased to threaten, and fair weather soon smiled again upon the seas. Exhausted by their previous superhuman efforts and by the labour of baling their water-logged vessel, the men were too weak to land when they at last reached the Orkney Islands, and had to be carried ashore by Björn and Frithiof, who gently laid them down on the sand, bidding them rest and refresh themselves after all the hardships they had endured. "Yet more wearied than their Dragon Totter Frithiof's gallant men; Though each leans upon his weapon, Scarcely upright stand they then. Björn, on pow'rful shoulder, dareth Four to carry to the land; Frithiof, all alone, eight beareth,-- Sets them so round the upblaz'd brand. 'Nay! ye white-fac'd, shame not! Waves are mighty Vikings; Hard's the unequal struggle-- Ocean's maids our foes. See! there comes the mead-horn, Wand'ring on bright gold-foot; Shipmates! cold limbs warm,--and Here's to Ingeborg!'" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephen's tr.). The arrival of Frithiof and his men, and their mode of landing, had been noted by the watchman of Angantyr, who immediately informed his master of all he had seen. The jarl exclaimed that the ship which had weathered such a gale could be none but Ellida, and that its captain was doubtless Frithiof, Thorsten's gallant son. At these words one of his Berserkers, Atlé, caught up his weapons and strode from the hall, vowing that he would challenge Frithiof, and thus satisfy himself concerning the veracity of the tales he had heard of the young hero's courage. Atlé's Challenge Although still greatly exhausted, Frithiof immediately accepted Atlé's challenge, and, after a sharp encounter with swords, in which Angurvadel was triumphant, the two champions grappled in deadly embrace. Widely is that wrestling-match renowned in the North, and well matched were the heroes, but in the end Frithiof threw his antagonist, whom he would have slain then and there had his sword been within reach. Atlé saw his intention, and bade him go in search of the weapon, promising to remain motionless during his absence. Frithiof, knowing that such a warrior's promise was inviolable, immediately obeyed; but when he returned with his sword, and found his antagonist calmly awaiting death, he relented, and bade Atlé rise and live. "Then storm they, nothing yielded, Two autumn-billows like! And oft, with steel round shielded, Their jarring breasts fierce strike. "All like two bears they wrestle, On hills of snow; and draw And strain, each like an eagle On the angry sea at war. The root-fast rock resisted Full hardly them between And green iron oaks down-twisted With lesser pulls have been. "From each broad brow sweat rushes; Their bosoms coldly heave; And stones and mounds and bushes Dints hundred-fold receive." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Together the appeased warriors now wended their way to Angantyr's hall, which Frithiof found to be far different from the rude dwellings of his native land. The walls were covered with leather richly decorated with gilt designs. The chimney-piece was of marble, and glass panes were in the window-frames. A soft light was diffused from many candles burning in silver branches, and the tables groaned under the most luxurious fare. High in a silver chair sat the jarl, clad in a coat of golden mail, over which was flung a rich mantle bordered with ermine, but when Frithiof entered he strode from his seat with cordial hand outstretched. "Full many a horn have I emptied with my old friend Thorsten," said he, "and his brave son is equally welcome at my board." Nothing loth, Frithiof seated himself beside his host, and after he had eaten and drunk he recounted his adventures upon land and sea. At last, however, Frithiof made known his errand, whereupon Angantyr said that he owed no tribute to Helgé, and would pay him none; but that he would give the required sum as a free gift to his old friend's son, leaving him at liberty to dispose of it as he pleased. Meantime, since the season was unpropitious for the return journey, and storms continually swept the sea, the king invited Frithiof to tarry with him over the winter; and it was only when the gentle spring breezes were blowing once more that he at last allowed him to depart. Frithiof's Home-coming Taking leave of his kind host, Frithiof set sail, and wafted by favourable winds, the hero, after six days, came in sight of Framnäs, and found that his home had been reduced to a shapeless heap of ashes by Helgé's orders. Sadly Frithiof strode over the ravaged site of his childhood's home, and as he viewed the desolate scene his heart burned within him. The ruins were not entirely deserted, however, and suddenly Frithiof felt the cold nozzle of his hound thrust into his hand. A few moments later his favourite steed bounded to his master's side, and the faithful creatures were well-nigh frantic with delight. Then came Hilding to greet him with the information that Ingeborg was now the wife of Sigurd Ring. When Frithiof heard this he flew into a Berserker rage, and bade his men scuttle the vessels in the harbour, while he strode to the temple in search of Helgé. The king stood crowned amid a circle of priests, some of whom brandished flaming pine-knots, while all grasped a sacrificial flint knife. Suddenly there was a clatter of arms and in burst Frithiof, his brow dark as autumn storms. Helgé's face went pale as he confronted the angry hero, for he knew what his coming presaged. "Take thy tribute, King," said Frithiof, and with the words, he took the purse from his girdle and flung it in Helgé's face with such force that blood gushed from his mouth and he fell swooning at Balder's feet. The silver-bearded priests advanced to the scene of violence, but Frithiof motioned them back, and his looks were so threatening that they durst not disobey. Then his eye fell upon the arm-ring which he had given to Ingeborg and which Helgé had placed upon the arm of Balder, and striding up to the wooden image he said: "Pardon, great Balder, not for thee was the ring wrested from Völund's tomb!" Then he seized the ring, but strongly as he tugged it would not come apart. At last he put forth all his strength, and with a sudden jerk he recovered the ring, and at the same time the image of the god fell prone across the altar fire. The next moment it was enveloped in flames, and before aught could be done the whole temple was wreathed in fire and smoke. "All, all's lost! From half-burned hall Th' fire-red cock up-swingeth!-- Sits on the roof, and, with shrilly call Flutt'ring, his free course wingeth." Tegnér's Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Frithiof, horror-stricken at the sacrilege which he had involuntarily occasioned, vainly tried to extinguish the flames and save the costly sanctuary, but finding his efforts unavailing he escaped to his ship and resolved upon the weary life of an outcast and exile. "Thou may'st not rest thee, Thou still must haste thee, Ellida!--out Th' wide world about. Yes! rock on! roaming Mid froth salt-foaming My Dragon good! "Thou billow bold Befriend me!--Never I'll from thee sever!-- My father's Mound Dull stands, fast-bound, And self-same surges Chaunt changeless dirges; But blue shall mine Through foam-flow'rs shine, 'Mid tempests swimming, And storms thick dimming, And draw yet mo Down, down, below.-- My Life-Home given, Thou shalt, far-driven! My Barrow be-- Thou free broad Sea!" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Frithiof an Exile Helgé started in pursuit with ten great dragon-ships, but these had barely got under way when they began to sink, and Björn said with a laugh, "What Ran enfolds I trust she will keep." Even King Helgé was with difficulty got ashore, and the survivors were forced to stand in helpless inactivity while Ellida's great sails slowly sank beneath the horizon. It was thus that Frithiof sadly saw his native land vanish from sight; and as it disappeared he breathed a tender farewell to the beloved country which he never expected to see again. After thus parting from his native land, Frithiof roved the sea as a pirate, or viking. His code was never to settle anywhere, to sleep on his shield, to fight and neither give nor take quarter, to protect the ships which paid him tribute and to plunder the others, and to distribute all the booty to his men, reserving for himself nothing but the glory of the enterprise. Sailing and fighting thus, Frithiof visited many lands, and came at last to the sunny isles of Greece, whither he would fain have carried Ingeborg as his bride; and the sights called up such a flood of sad memories that he was well-nigh overwhelmed with longing for his beloved and for his native land. At the Court of Sigurd Ring Three years had passed away and Frithiof determined to return northward and visit Sigurd Ring's court. When he announced his purpose to Björn, his faithful companion reproached him for his rashness in thinking to journey alone, but Frithiof would not be turned from his purpose, saying: "I am never alone while Angurvadel hangs at my side." Steering Ellida up the Vik (the main part of the Christiania Fiord), he entrusted her to Björn's care, and, enveloped in a bear-hide, which he wore as a disguise, he set out on foot alone for the court of Sigurd Ring, arriving there as the Yuletide festivities were in progress. As if nothing more than an aged beggar, Frithiof sat down upon the bench near the door, where he quickly became the butt of the courtiers' rough jokes. When one of his tormentors, however, approached too closely, the seeming beggar caught him in a powerful grasp and swung him high above his head. Terrified by this exhibition of superhuman strength, the courtiers quickly withdrew from the dangerous vicinity, while Sigurd Ring, whose attention was attracted by the commotion, sternly bade the stranger-guest approach and tell who thus dared to break the peace in his royal hall. Frithiof answered evasively that he was fostered in penitence, that he inherited want, and that he came from the wolf; as to his name, this did not matter. The king, as was the courteous custom, did not press him further, but invited him to take a seat beside him and the queen, and to share his good cheer. "But first," said he, "let fall the clumsy covering which veils, if I mistake not, a proper form." Frithiof gladly accepted the invitation thus cordially given, and when the hairy hide fell from off his head and shoulders, he stood disclosed in the pride of youth, much to the surprise of the assembled warriors. But although his appearance marked him as of no common race, none of the courtiers recognised him. It was different, however, with Ingeborg. Had any curious eye been upon her at that moment her changing colour and the quick heaving of her breast would have revealed her deep emotion. "The astonish'd queen's pale cheeks, how fast-changing rose-tints dye!-- So purple Northlights, quiv'ring, on snow-hid meadows lie; Like two white water-lilies on storm-wave wild that rest, Each moment rising, falling,--so heaves her trembling breast!" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Frithiof had barely taken his seat at the board when with flourish of trumpets a great boar was brought in and placed before the king. In accordance with the Yule-tide custom of those days the old monarch rose, and touching the head of the animal, he uttered a vow that with the help of Frey, Odin, and Thor, he would conquer the bold champion Frithiof. The next moment Frithiof, too, was upon his feet, and dashing his sword upon the great wooden bench he declared that Frithiof was his kinsman and he also would vow that though all the world withstood, no harm should reach the hero while he had power to wield his sword. At this unexpected interruption the warriors had risen quickly from the oaken benches, but Sigurd Ring smiled indulgently at the young man's vehemence and said: "Friend, thy words are overbold, but never yet was guest restrained from uttering his thoughts in this kingly hall." Then he turned to Ingeborg and bade her fill to the brim with her choicest mead a huge horn, richly decorated, which stood in front of her, and present it to the guest. The queen obeyed with downcast eyes, and the trembling of her hand caused the liquid to overflow. Two ordinary men could hardly have drained the mighty draught, but Frithiof raised it to his lips, and when he removed the horn not one drop of the mead remained. Ere the banquet was ended Sigurd Ring invited the youthful stranger to remain at his court until the return of spring, and accepting the proffered hospitality, Frithiof became the constant companion of the royal couple, whom he accompanied upon all occasions. One day Sigurd Ring set out to a banquet with Ingeborg. They travelled in a sleigh, while Frithiof, with steel-shod feet, sped gracefully by their side, cutting many mystic characters in the ice. Their way lay over a dangerous portion of the frozen surface, and Frithiof warned the king that it would be prudent to avoid this. He would not listen to the counsel, however, and suddenly the sleigh sank in a deep fissure, which threatened to engulph it with the king and queen. But like falcon descending upon its quarry, Frithiof was at their side in a moment, and without apparent effort he dragged the steed and its burden on to the firm ice. "In good sooth," said Ring, "Frithiof himself could not have done better." The long winter came to an end, and in the early spring the king and queen arranged a hunting-party in which all the court were to take part. During the progress of the chase the advancing years of Sigurd Ring made it impossible for him to keep up with the eager hunt, and thus it happened that he dropped behind, until at length he was left with Frithiof as his sole companion. They rode slowly together until they reached a pleasant dell which invited the weary king to repose, and he declared that he would lie down for a season to rest. "Then threw Frithiof down his mantle, and upon the greensward spread, And the ancient king so trustful laid on Frithiof's knee his head; Slept, as calmly as the hero sleepeth after war's alarms On his shield, calm as an infant sleepeth in its mother's arms." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.). Frithiof's Loyalty While the aged king was thus reposing, a bird sang to Frithiof from a tree near by, bidding him take advantage of his host's powerlessness to slay him, and recover the bride of whom he had been unfairly deprived. But although Frithiof's hot young heart clamoured for his beloved, he utterly refused to entertain the dastardly suggestion, but, fearing lest he should be overcome by temptation, despite his horror at the thought, he impulsively flung his sword far from him into a neighbouring thicket. A few moments later Sigurd Ring opened his eyes, and informed Frithiof that he had only feigned sleep; he told him also that having recognised him from the first, he had tested him in many ways, and had found his honour equal to his courage. Old age had now overtaken him and he felt that death was drawing nigh. In but a short time, therefore, Frithiof might hope to realise his dearest hope, and Sigurd Ring told him that he would die happy if he would stay by him until the end. A revulsion of feeling had, however, overtaken Frithiof, and he told the aged king that he felt that Ingeborg could never be his, because of the wrath of Balder. Too long had he stayed; he would now go once more upon the sea and would seek death in the fray, that so he might appease the offended gods. Full of his resolve, he quickly made preparations to depart, but when he returned to the court to bid farewell to his royal hosts he found that Sigurd Ring was at the point of death. The old warrior bethought him that "a straw death" would not win the favour of Odin, and in the presence of Frithiof and his court he slashed bravely the death runes on his arm and breast. Then clasping Ingeborg with one hand, he raised the other in blessing over Frithiof and his youthful son, and so passed in peace to the halls of the blessed. "Gods all, I hail ye! Sons of Valhalla! Earth disappears; to the Asa's high feast Gjallar-horn bids me; Blessedness, like a Gold-helmet, circles their up-coming guest!" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Betrothal of Frithiof and Ingeborg The warriors of the nation now assembled in solemn Thing to choose a successor to the throne. Frithiof had won the people's enthusiastic admiration, and they would fain have elected him king; but he raised Sigurd Ring's little son high on his shield when he heard the shout which acclaimed his name, and presented the boy to the assembly as their future king, publicly swearing to uphold him until he was of age to defend the realm. The lad, weary of his cramped position, boldly sprang to the ground as soon as Frithiof's speech was ended, and alighted upon his feet. This act of agile daring in one so young appealed to the rude Northmen, and a loud shout arose, "We choose thee, shield-borne child!" "But thron'd king-like, the lad sat proud On shield-floor high; So the eaglet glad, from rock-hung cloud, The Sun will eye! At length this place his young blood found Too dull to keep; And, with one spring, he gains the ground-- A royal leap!" Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). According to some accounts, Frithiof now made war against Ingeborg's brothers, and after conquering them, allowed them to retain their kingdom on condition that they paid him a yearly tribute. Then he and Ingeborg remained in Ringric until the young king was able to assume the government, when they repaired to Hordaland, a kingdom Frithiof had obtained by conquest, and which he left to his sons Gungthiof and Hunthiof. Bishop Tegnér's conclusion, however, differs very considerably, and if it appears less true to the rude temper of the rugged days of the sea-rovers, its superior spiritual qualities make it more attractive. According to Tegnér's poem, Frithiof was urged by the people of Sigurd Ring to espouse Ingeborg and remain amongst them as guardian of the realm. But he answered that this might not be, since the wrath of Balder still burned against him, and none else could bestow his cherished bride. He told the people that he would fare over the seas and seek forgiveness of the god, and soon after, his farewells were spoken, and once more his vessel was speeding before the wind. Frithiof's first visit was paid to his father's burial mound, where, plunged in melancholy at the desolation around, he poured out his soul to the outraged god. He reminded him that it was the custom of the Northmen to exact blood-fines for kinsmen slain, and surely the blessed gods would not be less forgiving than the earth-born. Passionately he adjured Balder to show him how he could make reparation for his unpremeditated fault, and suddenly, an answer was vouchsafed, and Frithiof beheld in the clouds a vision of a new temple. "Then sudden, o'er the western waters pendent, An Image comes, with gold and flames resplendent, O'er Balder's grove it hovers, night's clouds under, Like gold crown resting on a bed of green. At last to a temple settling, firm 'tis grounded-- Where Balder stood, another temple's founded." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). The hero immediately understood that the gods had thus indicated a means of atonement, and he grudged neither wealth nor pains until a glorious temple and grove, which far exceeded the splendour of the old shrine, rose out of the ruins. "Finish'd great Balder's Temple stood! Round it no palisade of wood Ran now as erst; A railing stronger, fairer than the first, And all of hammer'd iron--each bar Gold-tipp'd and regular-- Walls Balder's sacred House. Like some long line Of steel-clad champions, whose bright war-spears shine And golden helms afar--so stood This glitt'ring guard within the holy wood! "Of granite blocks enormous, join'd with curious care And daring art, the massy pile was built; and there (A giant-work intended To last till time was ended,) It rose like Upsal's temple, where the north Saw Valhall's halls fair imag'd here on earth. "Proud stood it there on mountain-steep, its lofty brow Reflected calmly on the sea's bright-flowing wave. But round about, some girdle like of beauteous flow'rs, Went Balder's Dale, with all its groves' soft-murmur'd sighs, And all its birds' sweet-twitter'd songs,--the Home of Peace." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). Meantime, while the timbers were being hewed, King Helgé was absent upon a foray amongst the Finnish mountains. One day it chanced that his band passed by a crag where stood the lonely shrine of some forgotten god, and King Helgé scaled the rocky summit with intent to raze the ruined walls. The lock held fast, and, as Helgé tugged fiercely at the mouldered gate, suddenly a sculptured image of the deity, rudely summoned from his ancient sleep, started from his niche above. Heavily he fell upon the head of the intruder, and Helgé stretched his length upon the rocky floor, nor stirred again. When the temple was duly consecrated to Balder's service, Frithiof stood by the altar to await the coming of his expected bride. But Halfdan first crossed the threshold, his faltering gait showing plainly that he feared an unfriendly reception. Seeing this, Frithiof unbuckled his sword and strode frankly to Halfdan with hand outstretched, whereupon the king, blushing deeply, grasped heartily the proffered hand, and from that moment all their differences were forgotten. The next moment Ingeborg approached and the renewed amity of the long-sundered friends was ratified with the hand of the bride, which Halfdan placed in that of his new brother. "Over the copper threshold Halfdan now, With pallid brow And fearful fitful glance, advanceth slow Tow'rds yonder tow'ring ever-dreaded foe-- And, silent, at a distance stands,-- Then Frithiof, with quick hands, The corslet-hater, Angurvadel, from his thigh Unbuckleth, and his bright shield's golden round Leaning 'gainst the altar, thus draws nigh;-- While his cow'd enemy He thus accosts, with pleasant dignity.-- 'Most noble in this strife will he be found Who first his right hand good Offers in pledge of peaceful brotherhood!'-- Then Halfdan, deeply blushing, doffs with haste His iron-gauntlet and,--with hearty grasp embrac'd,-- Each long, long, sever'd hand Its friend-foe hails, steadfast as mountain-bases stand! "And as th' last deep accents Of reconcilement and of blessing sounded; Lo! Ing'borg sudden enters, rich adorn'd With bridal ornaments, and all enrob'd In gorgeous ermine, and by bright-ey'd maidens Slow-follow'd, as on heav'n's broad canopy, Attending star-trains guard the regent-moon!-- But the young bride's fair eyes, Those two blue skies, Fill quick with tears, And to her brother's heart she trembling sinketh;-- He, with his sister's fears Deep-mov'd, her hand all tenderly in Frithiof's linketh, His burden soft transferring to that hero's breast, Its long-tried faith fit place for Ing'borg's rest." Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.). CHAPTER XXVIII: THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS The Decline of the Gods One of the distinctive features of Northern mythology is that the people always believed that their gods belonged to a finite race. The Æsir had had a beginning; therefore, it was reasoned, they must have an end; and as they were born from a mixture of the divine and giant elements, being thus imperfect, they bore within them the germ of death, and were, like men, doomed to suffer physical death in order to attain spiritual immortality. The whole scheme of Northern mythology was therefore a drama, every step leading gradually to the climax or tragic end, when, with true poetic justice, punishment and reward were impartially meted out. In the foregoing chapters, the gradual rise and decline of the gods have been carefully traced. We have recounted how the Æsir tolerated the presence of evil, personated by Loki, in their midst; how they weakly followed his advice, allowed him to involve them in all manner of difficulties from which they could be extricated only at the price of part of their virtue or peace, and finally permitted him to gain such ascendency over them that he did not scruple to rob them of their dearest possession, purity, or innocence, as personified by Balder the good. Too late the gods realised how evil was this spirit that had found a home among them, and too late they banished Loki to earth, where men, following the gods' example, listened to his teachings, and were corrupted by his sinister influence. "Brothers slay brothers; Sisters' children Shed each other's blood. Hard is the world; Sensual sin grows huge. There are sword-ages, axe-ages; Shields are cleft in twain; Storm-ages, murder-ages; Till the world falls dead, And men no longer spare Or pity one another." Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson). The Fimbul-winter Seeing that crime was rampant, and all good banished from the earth, the gods realised that the prophecies uttered of old were about to be fulfilled, and that the shadow of Ragnarok, the twilight or dusk of the gods, was already upon them. Sol and Mani grew pale with affright, and drove their chariots tremblingly along their appointed paths, looking back with fear at the pursuing wolves which would shortly overtake and devour them; and as their smiles disappeared the earth grew sad and cold, and the terrible Fimbul-winter began. Then snow fell from the four points of the compass at once, the biting winds swept down from the north, and all the earth was covered with a thick layer of ice. "Grim Fimbul raged, and o'er the world Tempestuous winds and snowstorms hurled; The roaring ocean icebergs ground, And flung its frozen foam around, E'en to the top of mountain height; No warming air Nor radiance fair Of gentle Summer's soft'ning light, Tempered this dreadful glacial night." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). This severe winter lasted during three whole seasons without a break, and was followed by three others, equally severe, during which all cheer departed from the earth, and the crimes of men increased with fearful rapidity, whilst, in the general struggle for life, the last feelings of humanity and compassion disappeared. The Wolves Let Loose In the dim recesses of the Ironwood the giantess Iarnsaxa or Angur-boda diligently fed the wolves Hati, Sköll, and Managarm, the progeny of Fenris, with the marrow of murderers' and adulterers' bones; and such was the prevalence of these vile crimes, that the well-nigh insatiable monsters were never stinted for food. They daily gained strength to pursue Sol and Mani, and finally overtook and devoured them, deluging the earth with blood from their dripping jaws. "In the east she was seated, that aged woman, in Jarnrid, And there she nourished the posterity of Fenrir; He will be the most formidable of all, he Who, under the form of a monster, will swallow up the moon." Voluspa (Pfeiffer's tr.). At this terrible calamity the whole earth trembled and shook, the stars, affrighted, fell from their places, and Loki, Fenris, and Garm, renewing their efforts, rent their chains asunder and rushed forth to take their revenge. At the same moment the dragon Nidhug gnawed through the root of the ash Yggdrasil, which quivered to its topmost bough; the red cock Fialar, perched above Valhalla, loudly crowed an alarm, which was immediately echoed by Gullin-kambi, the rooster in Midgard, and by Hel's dark-red bird in Nifl-heim. "The gold-combed cock The gods in Valhal loudly crowed to arms; The blood-red cock as shrilly summons all On earth and down beneath it." Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). Heimdall Gives the Alarm Heimdall, noting these ominous portents and hearing the cock's shrill cry, immediately put the Giallar-horn to his lips and blew the long-expected blast, which was heard throughout the world. At the first sound of this rally Æsir and Einheriar sprang from their golden couches and sallied bravely out of the great hall, armed for the coming fray, and, mounting their impatient steeds, they galloped over the quivering rainbow bridge to the spacious field of Vigrid, where, as Vafthrudnir had predicted long before, the last battle was to take place. The Terrors of the Sea The terrible Midgard snake Iörmungandr had been aroused by the general disturbance, and with immense writhings and commotion, whereby the seas were lashed into huge waves such as had never before disturbed the deeps of ocean, he crawled out upon the land, and hastened to join the dread fray, in which he was to play a prominent part. "In giant wrath the Serpent tossed In ocean depths, till, free from chain, He rose upon the foaming main; Beneath the lashings of his tail, Seas, mountain high, swelled on the land; Then, darting mad the waves acrost, Pouring forth bloody froth like hail, Spurting with poisoned, venomed breath Foul, deadly mists o'er all the Earth, Thro' thundering surge, he sought the strand." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). One of the great waves, stirred up by Iörmungandr's struggles, set afloat Nagilfar, the fatal ship, which was constructed entirely out of the nails of those dead folks whose relatives had failed, through the ages, in their duty, having neglected to pare the nails of the deceased, ere they were laid to rest. No sooner was this vessel afloat, than Loki boarded it with the fiery host from Muspells-heim, and steered it boldly over the stormy waters to the place of conflict. This was not the only vessel bound for Vigrid, however, for out of a thick fog bank towards the north came another ship, steered by Hrym, in which were all the frost giants, armed to the teeth and eager for a conflict with the Æsir, whom they had always hated. The Terrors of the Underworld At the same time, Hel, the goddess of death, crept through a crevice in the earth out of her underground home, closely followed by the Hel-hound Garm, the malefactors of her cheerless realm, and the dragon Nidhug, which flew over the battlefield bearing corpses upon his wings. As soon as he landed, Loki welcomed these reinforcements with joy, and placing himself at their head he marched with them to the fight. Suddenly the skies were rent asunder, and through the fiery breach rode Surtr with his flaming sword, followed by his sons; and as they rode over the bridge Bifröst, with intent to storm Asgard, the glorious arch sank with a crash beneath their horses' tread. "Down thro' the fields of air, With glittering armour fair, In battle order bright, They sped while seething flame From rapid hoofstrokes came. Leading his gleaming band, rode Surtur, 'Mid the red ranks of raging fire." Valhalla (J. C. Jones). The gods knew full well that their end was now near, and that their weakness and lack of foresight placed them under great disadvantages; for Odin had but one eye, Tyr but one hand, and Frey nothing but a stag's horn wherewith to defend himself, instead of his invincible sword. Nevertheless, the Æsir did not show any signs of despair, but, like true battle-gods of the North, they donned their richest attire, and gaily rode to the battlefield, determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible. While they were mustering their forces, Odin once more rode down to the Urdar fountain, where, under the toppling Yggdrasil, the Norns sat with veiled faces and obstinately silent, their web lying torn at their feet. Once more the father of the gods whispered a mysterious communication to Mimir, after which he remounted Sleipnir and rejoined the waiting host. The Great Battle The combatants were now assembled on Vigrid's broad plain. On one side were ranged the stern, calm faces of the Æsir, Vanas, and Einheriar; while on the other were gathered the motley host of Surtr, the grim frost giants, the pale army of Hel, and Loki and his dread followers, Garm, Fenris, and Iörmungandr, the two latter belching forth fire and smoke, and exhaling clouds of noxious, deathly vapours, which filled all heaven and earth with their poisonous breath. "The years roll on, The generations pass, the ages grow, And bring us nearer to the final day When from the south shall march the fiery band And cross the bridge of heaven, with Lok for guide, And Fenris at his heel with broken chain; While from the east the giant Rymer steers His ship, and the great serpent makes to land; And all are marshall'd in one flaming square Against the Gods, upon the plains of Heaven." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). All the pent-up antagonism of ages was now let loose in a torrent of hate, each member of the opposing hosts fighting with grim determination, as did our ancestors of old, hand to hand and face to face. With a mighty shock, heard above the roar of battle which filled the universe, Odin and the Fenris wolf came into impetuous contact, while Thor attacked the Midgard snake, and Tyr came to grips with the dog Garm. Frey closed with Surtr, Heimdall with Loki, whom he had defeated once before, and the remainder of the gods and all the Einheriar engaged foes equally worthy of their courage. But, in spite of their daily preparation in the heavenly city, Valhalla's host was doomed to succumb, and Odin was amongst the first of the shining ones to be slain. Not even the high courage and mighty attributes of Allfather could withstand the tide of evil as personified in the Fenris wolf. At each succeeding moment of the struggle its colossal size assumed greater proportions, until finally its wide-open jaws embraced all the space between heaven and earth, and the foul monster rushed furiously upon the father of gods and engulphed him bodily within its horrid maw. "Fenrir shall with impious tooth Slay the sire of rolling years: Vithar shall avenge his fall, And, struggling with the shaggy wolf, Shall cleave his cold and gory jaws." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). None of the gods could lend Allfather a helping hand at that critical moment, for it was a time of sore trial to all. Frey put forth heroic efforts, but Surtr's flashing sword now dealt him a death-stroke. In his struggle with the arch-enemy, Loki, Heimdall fared better, but his final conquest was dearly bought, for he, too, fell dead. The struggle between Tyr and Garm had the same tragic end, and Thor, after a most terrible encounter with the Midgard snake, and after slaying him with a stroke from Miölnir, staggered back nine paces, and was drowned in the flood of venom which poured from the dying monster's jaws. "Odin's son goes With the monster to fight; Midgard's Veor in his rage Will slay the worm; Nine feet will go Fiörgyn's son, Bowed by the serpent Who feared no foe." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). Vidar now came rushing from a distant part of the plain to avenge the death of his mighty sire, and the doom foretold fell upon Fenris, whose lower jaw now felt the impress of that shoe which had been reserved for this day. At the same moment Vidar seized the monster's upper jaw with his hands, and with one terrible wrench tore him asunder. The Devouring Fire The other gods who took part in the fray, and all the Einheriar having now perished, Surtr suddenly flung his fiery brands over heaven, earth, and the nine kingdoms of Hel. The raging flames enveloped the massive stem of the world ash Yggdrasil, and reached the golden palaces of the gods, which were utterly consumed. The vegetation upon earth was likewise destroyed, and the fervent heat made all the waters seethe and boil. "Fire's breath assails The all-nourishing tree, Towering fire plays Against heaven itself." Sæmund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.). The great conflagration raged fiercely until everything was consumed, when the earth, blackened and scarred, slowly sank beneath the boiling waves of the sea. Ragnarok had indeed come; the world tragedy was over, the divine actors were slain, and chaos seemed to have resumed its former sway. But as in a play, after the principals are slain and the curtain has fallen, the audience still looks for the favourites to appear and make their bow, so the ancient Northern races fancied that, all evil having perished in Surtr's flames, from the general ruin goodness would rise, to resume its sway over the earth, and that some of the gods would return to dwell in heaven for ever. "All evil Dies there an endless death, while goodness riseth From that great world-fire, purified at last, To a life far higher, better, nobler than the past. Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson). Regeneration Our ancestors believed fully in regeneration, and held that after a certain space of time the earth, purged by fire and purified by its immersion in the sea, rose again in all its pristine beauty and was illumined by the sun, whose chariot was driven by a daughter of Sol, born before the wolf had devoured her mother. The new orb of day was not imperfect, as the first sun had been, and its rays were no longer so ardent that a shield had to be placed between it and the earth. These more beneficent rays soon caused the earth to renew its green mantle, and to bring forth flowers and fruit in abundance. Two human beings, a woman, Lif, and a man, Lifthrasir, now emerged from the depths of Hodmimir's (Mimir's) forest, whence they had fled for refuge when Surtr set fire to the world. They had sunk into peaceful slumber there, unconscious of the destruction around them, and had remained, nurtured by the morning dew, until it was safe for them to wander out once more, when they took possession of the regenerated earth, which their descendants were to people and over which they were to have full sway. "We shall see emerge From the bright Ocean at our feet an earth More fresh, more verdant than the last, with fruits Self-springing, and a seed of man preserved, Who then shall live in peace, as then in war." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). A New Heaven All the gods who represented the developing forces of Nature were slain on the fatal field of Vigrid, but Vali and Vidar, the types of the imperishable forces of Nature, returned to the field of Ida, where they were met by Modi and Magni, Thor's sons, the personifications of strength and energy, who rescued their father's sacred hammer from the general destruction, and carried it thither with them. "Vithar's then and Vali's force Heirs the empty realm of gods; Mothi's thew and Magni's might Sways the massy mallet's weight, Won from Thor, when Thor must fall." Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.). Here they were joined by Hoenir, no longer an exile among the Vanas, who, as developing forces, had also vanished for ever; and out of the dark underworld where he had languished so long rose the radiant Balder, together with his brother Hodur, with whom he was reconciled, and with whom he was to live in perfect amity and peace. The past had gone for ever, and the surviving deities could recall it without bitterness. The memory of their former companions was, however, dear to them, and full often did they return to their old haunts to linger over the happy associations. It was thus that walking one day in the long grass on Idavold, they found again the golden disks with which the Æsir had been wont to sport. "We shall tread once more that well-known plain Of Ida, and among the grass shall find The golden dice with which we play'd of yore; And that will bring to mind the former life And pastime of the Gods, the wise discourse Of Odin, the delights of other days." Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold). When the small band of gods turned mournfully towards the place where their lordly dwellings once stood, they became aware, to their joyful surprise, that Gimli, the highest heavenly abode, had not been consumed, for it rose glittering before them, its golden roof outshining the sun. Hastening thither they discovered, to the great increase of their joy, that it had become the place of refuge for all the virtuous. "In Gimli the lofty There shall the hosts Of the virtuous dwell, And through all ages Taste of deep gladness." Literature and Romance of Northern Europe (Howitt). One too Mighty to Name As the Norsemen who settled in Iceland, and through whom the most complete exposition of the Odinic faith has come down to us in the Eddas and Sagas, were not definitely converted until the eleventh century,--although they had come in contact with Christians during their viking raids nearly six centuries before,--it is very probable that the Northern scalds gleaned some idea of the Christian doctrines, and that this knowledge influenced them to a certain extent, and coloured their descriptions of the end of the world and the regeneration of the earth. It was perhaps this vague knowledge, also, which induced them to add to the Edda a verse, which is generally supposed to have been an interpolation, proclaiming that another God, too mighty to name, would arise to bear rule over Gimli. From his heavenly seat he would judge mankind, and separate the bad from the good. The former would be banished to the horrors of Nastrond, while the good would be transported to the blissful halls of Gimli the fair. "Then comes another, Yet more mighty. But Him I dare not Venture to name. Few farther may look Than to where Odin To meet the wolf goes." Literature and Romance of Northern Europe (Howitt). There were two other heavenly mansions, however, one reserved for the dwarfs and the other for the giants; for as these creatures had no free will, and but blindly executed the decrees of fate, they were not thought to be responsible for any harm done by them, and were therefore held to be undeserving of punishment. The dwarfs, ruled by Sindri, were said to occupy a hall in the Nida mountains, where they drank the sparkling mead, while the giants took their pleasure in the hall Brimer, situated in the region Okolnur (not cool), for the power of cold was entirely annihilated, and there was no more ice. Various mythologists have, of course, attempted to explain these myths, and some, as we have already stated, see in the story of Ragnarok the influence of Christian teachings, and esteem it only a barbaric version of the end of the world and the coming judgment day, when a new heaven and earth shall arise, and all the good shall enjoy eternal bliss. CHAPTER XXIX: GREEK AND NORTHERN MYTHOLOGIES Comparative Mythology During the past fifty years learned men of many nations have investigated philology and comparative mythology so thoroughly that they have ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt "that English, together with all the Teutonic dialects of the Continent, belongs to that large family of speech which comprises, besides the Teutonic, Latin, Greek, Slavonic, and Celtic, the Oriental languages of India and Persia." "It has also been proved that the various tribes who started from the central home to discover Europe in the north, and India in the south, carried away with them, not only a common language, but a common faith and a common mythology. These are facts which may be ignored but cannot be disputed, and the two sciences of comparative grammar and comparative mythology, though but of recent origin, rest on a foundation as sound and safe as that of any of the inductive sciences." "For more than a thousand years the Scandinavian inhabitants of Norway have been separated in language from their Teutonic brethren on the Continent, and yet both have not only preserved the same stock of popular stories, but they tell them, in several instances, in almost the same words." This resemblance, so strong in the early literature of nations inhabiting countries which present much the same physical aspect and have nearly the same climate, is not so marked when we compare the Northern myths with those of the genial South. Still, notwithstanding the contrast between Northern and Southern Europe, where these myths gradually ripened and attained their full growth, there is an analogy between the two mythologies which shows that the seeds from whence both sprang were originally the same. In the foregoing chapters the Northern system of mythology has been outlined as clearly as possible, and the physical significance of the myths has been explained. Now we shall endeavour to set forth the resemblance of Northern mythology to that of the other Aryan nations, by comparing it with the Greek, which, however, it does not resemble as closely as it does the Oriental. It is, of course, impossible in a work of this character to do more than mention the main points of resemblance in the stories forming the basis of these religions; but that will be sufficient to demonstrate, even to the most sceptical, that they must have been identical at a period too remote to indicate now with any certainty. The Beginning of Things The Northern nations, like the Greeks, imagined that the world rose out of chaos; and while the latter described it as a vapoury, formless mass, the former, influenced by their immediate surroundings, depicted it as a chaos of fire and ice--a combination which is only too comprehensible to any one who has visited Iceland and seen the wild, peculiar contrast between its volcanic soil, spouting geysers, and the great icebergs which hedge it round during the long, dark winter season. From these opposing elements, fire and ice, were born the first divinities, who, like the first gods of the Greeks, were gigantic in stature and uncouth in appearance. Ymir, the huge ice giant, and his descendants, are comparable to the Titans, who were also elemental forces of Nature, personifications of subterranean fire; and both, having held full sway for a time, were obliged to yield to greater perfection. After a fierce struggle for supremacy, they all found themselves defeated and banished to the respective remote regions of Tartarus and Jötun-heim. The triad, Odin, Vili, and Ve, of the Northern myth is the exact counterpart of Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto, who, superior to the Titan forces, rule supreme over the world in their turn. In the Greek mythology, the gods, who are also all related to one another, betake themselves to Olympus, where they build golden palaces for their use; and in the Northern mythology the divine conquerors repair to Asgard, and there construct similar dwellings. Cosmogony Northern cosmogony was not unlike the Greek, for the people imagined that the earth, Mana-heim, was entirely surrounded by the sea, at the bottom of which lay coiled the huge Midgard snake, biting its own tail; and it was perfectly natural that, viewing the storm-lashed waves which beat against their shores, they should imagine these to be caused by his convulsive writhing. The Greeks, who also fancied the earth was round and compassed by a mighty river called Oceanus, described it as flowing with "a steady, equable current," for they generally gazed out upon calm and sunlit seas. Nifl-heim, the Northern region of perpetual cold and mist, had its exact counterpart in the land north of the Hyperboreans, where feathers (snow) continually hovered in the air, and where Hercules drove the Ceryneian stag into a snowdrift ere he could seize and bind it fast. The Phenomena of the Sky Like the Greeks, the Northern races believed that the earth was created first, and that the vaulted heavens were made afterwards to overshadow it entirely. They also imagined that the sun and moon were daily driven across the sky in chariots drawn by fiery steeds. Sol, the sun maiden, therefore corresponded to Helios, Hyperion, Phoebus, or Apollo, while Mani, the Moon (owing to a peculiarity of Northern grammar, which makes the sun feminine and the moon masculine), was the exact counterpart of Phoebe, Diana, or Cynthia. The Northern scalds, who thought that they descried the prancing forms of white-maned steeds in the flying clouds, and the glitter of spears in the flashing light of the aurora borealis, said that the Valkyrs, or battle maidens, galloped across the sky, while the Greeks saw in the same natural phenomena the white flocks of Apollo guarded by Phaetusa and Lampetia. As the dew fell from the clouds, the Northern poets declared that it dropped from the manes of the Valkyrs' steeds, while the Greeks, who observed that it generally sparkled longest in the thickets, identified it with Daphne and Procris, whose names are derived from the Sanskrit word which means "to sprinkle," and who are slain by their lovers, Apollo and Cephalus, personifications of the sun. The earth was considered in the North as well as in the South as a female divinity, the fostering mother of all things; and it was owing to climatic difference only that the mythology of the North, where people were daily obliged to conquer the right to live by a hand-to-hand struggle with Nature, should represent her as hard and frozen like Rinda, while the Greeks embodied her in the genial goddess Ceres. The Greeks believed that the cold winter winds swept down from the North, and the Northern races, in addition, added that they were produced by the winnowing of the wings of the great eagle Hræ-svelgr. The dwarfs, or dark elves, bred in Ymir's flesh, were like Pluto's servants in that they never left their underground realm, where they, too, sought the precious metals, which they moulded into delicate ornaments such as Vulcan bestowed upon the gods, and into weapons which no one could either dint or mar. As for the light elves, who lived above ground and cared for plants, trees, and streams, they were evidently the Northern equivalents to the nymphs, dryads, oreades, and hamadryads, which peopled the woods, valleys, and fountains of ancient Greece. Jupiter and Odin Jupiter, like Odin, was the father of the gods, the god of victory, and a personification of the universe. Hlidskialf, Allfather's lofty throne, was no less exalted than Olympus or Ida, whence the Thunderer could observe all that was taking place; and Odin's invincible spear Gungnir was as terror-inspiring as the thunderbolts brandished by his Greek prototype. The Northern deities feasted continually upon mead and boar's flesh, the drink and meat most suitable to the inhabitants of a Northern climate, while the gods of Olympus preferred the nectar and ambrosia which formed their only sustenance. Twelve Æsir sat in Odin's council hall to deliberate over the wisest measures for the government of the world and men, and an equal number of gods assembled on the cloudy peak of Mount Olympus for a similar purpose. The Golden Age in Greece was a period of idyllic happiness, amid ever-flowering groves and under balmy skies, while the Northern age of bliss was also a time when peace and innocence flourished on the earth, and when evil was as yet entirely unknown. The Creation of Man Using the materials near at hand, the Greeks modelled their first images out of clay; hence they naturally imagined that Prometheus had made man out of that substance when called upon to fashion a creature inferior to the gods only. As the Northern statues were hewn out of wood, the Northern races inferred, as a matter of course, that Odin, Vili, and Ve (who here correspond to Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Minerva, the three Greek creators of man) made the first human couple, Ask and Embla, out of blocks of wood. The goat Heidrun, which supplied the heavenly mead, is like Amalthea, Jupiter's first nurse, and the busy, tell-tale Ratatosk is equivalent to the snow-white crow in the story of Coronis, which was turned black in punishment for its tattling. Jupiter's eagle has its counterpart in the ravens Hugin and Munin, or in the wolves Geri and Freki, which are ever crouching at Odin's feet. Norns and Fates The close resemblance between the Northern Orlog and the Greek Destiny, goddesses whose decrees the gods themselves were obliged to respect, and the equally powerful Norns and Moeræ, is too obvious to need pointing out, while the Vanas are counterparts of Neptune and the other ocean divinities. The great quarrel between the Vanas and the Æsir is merely another version of the dispute between Jupiter and Neptune for the supremacy of the world. Just as Jupiter forces his brother to yield to his authority, so the Æsir remain masters of all, but do not refuse to continue to share their power with their conquered foes, who thus become their allies and friends. Like Jupiter, Odin is always described as majestic and middle-aged, and both gods are regarded as the divine progenitors of royal races, for while the Heraclidæ claimed Jupiter as their father, the Inglings, Skioldings, etc., held that Odin was the founder of their families. The most solemn oaths were sworn by Odin's spear as well as by Jupiter's footstool, and both gods rejoice in a multitude of names, all descriptive of the various phases of their nature and worship. Odin, like Jupiter, frequently visited the earth in disguise, to judge of the hospitable intentions of mankind, as in the story of Geirrod and Agnar, which resembles that of Philemon and Baucis. The aim was to encourage hospitality; therefore, in both stories, those who showed themselves humanely inclined are richly rewarded, and in the Northern myth the lesson is enforced by the punishment inflicted upon Geirrod, as the scalds believed in poetic justice and saw that it was carefully meted out. The contest of wit between Odin and Vafthrudnir has its parallel in the musical rivalry of Apollo and Marsyas, or in the test of skill between Minerva and Arachne. Odin further resembled Apollo in that he, too, was god of eloquence and poetry, and could win all hearts by means of his divine voice; he was like Mercury in that he taught mortals the use of runes, while the Greek god introduced the alphabet. Myths of the Seasons The disappearance of Odin, the sun or summer, and the consequent desolation of Frigga, the earth, is merely a different version of the myths of Proserpine and Adonis. When Proserpine and Adonis have gone, the earth (Ceres or Venus) bitterly mourns their absence, and refuses all consolation. It is only when they return from their exile that she casts off her mourning garments and gloom, and again decks herself in all her jewels. So Frigga and Freya bewail the absence of their husbands Odin and Odur, and remain hard and cold until their return. Odin's wife, Saga, the goddess of history, who lingered by Sokvabek, "the stream of time and events," taking note of all she saw, is like Clio, the muse of history, whom Apollo sought by the inspiring fount of Helicon. Just as, according to Euhemerus, there was an historical Zeus, buried in Crete, where his grave can still be seen, so there was an historical Odin, whose mound rises near Upsala, where the greatest Northern temple once stood, and where there was a mighty oak which rivalled the famous tree of Dodona. Frigga and Juno Frigga, like Juno, was a personification of the atmosphere, the patroness of marriage, of connubial and motherly love, and the goddess of childbirth. She, too, is represented as a beautiful, stately woman, rejoicing in her adornments; and her special attendant, Gna, rivals Iris in the rapidity with which she executes her mistress's behests. Juno has full control over the clouds, which she can brush away with a motion of her hand, and Frigga is supposed to weave them out of the thread she has spun on her jewelled spinning wheel. In Greek mythology we find many examples of the way in which Juno seeks to outwit Jupiter. Similar tales are not lacking in the Northern myths. Juno obtains possession of Io, in spite of her husband's reluctance to part with her, and Frigga artfully secures the victory for the Winilers in the Langobarden Saga. Odin's wrath at Frigga's theft of the gold from his statue is equivalent to Jupiter's marital displeasure at Juno's jealousy and interference during the war of Troy. In the story of Gefjon, and the clever way in which she procured land from Gylfi to form her kingdom of Seeland, we have a reproduction of the story of Dido, who obtained by stratagem the land upon which she founded her city of Carthage. In both accounts oxen come into play, for while in the Northern myth these sturdy beasts draw the piece of land far out to sea, in the other an ox hide, cut into strips, serves to enclose the queen's grant. Musical Myths The Pied Piper of Hamelin, who could attract all living creatures by his music, is like Orpheus or Amphion, whose lyres had the same power; and Odin, as leader of the dead, is the counterpart of Mercury Psychopompus, both being personifications of the wind, on whose wings disembodied souls were thought to be wafted from this mortal sphere. The trusty Eckhardt, who would fain save Tannhäuser and prevent his returning to expose himself to the enchantments of the sorceress, in the Hörselberg, is like the Greek Mentor, who not only accompanied Telemachus, but gave him good advice and wise instructions, and would have rescued Ulysses from the hands of Calypso. Thor and the Greek Gods Thor, the Northern thunder-god, also has many points of resemblance with Jupiter. He bears the hammer Miölnir, the Northern emblem of the deadly thunderbolt, and, like Jupiter, uses it freely when warring against the giants. In his rapid growth Thor resembles Mercury, for while the former playfully tosses about several loads of ox hides a few hours after his birth, the latter steals Apollo's oxen before he is one day old. In physical strength Thor resembles Hercules, who also gave early proofs of uncommon vigour by strangling the serpents sent to slay him in his cradle, and who delighted, later on, in attacking and conquering giants and monsters. Hercules became a woman and took to spinning to please Omphale, the Lydian queen, and Thor assumed a woman's apparel to visit Thrym and recover his hammer, which had been buried nine rasts underground. The hammer, his principal attribute, was used for many sacred purposes. It consecrated the funeral pyre and the marriage rite, and boundary stakes driven in by a hammer were considered as sacred among Northern nations as the Hermæ or statues of Mercury, removal of which was punishable by death. Thor's wife, Sif, with her luxuriant golden hair, is, as we have already stated, an emblem of the earth, and her hair of its rich vegetation. Loki's theft of these tresses is equivalent to Pluto's rape of Proserpine. To recover the golden locks, Loki must visit the dwarfs (Pluto's servants), crouching in the low passages of the underground world; so Mercury must seek Proserpine in Hades. The gadfly which hinders Jupiter from recovering possession of Io, after Mercury has slain Argus, reappears in the Northern myth to sting Brock and to endeavour to prevent the manufacture of the magic ring Draupnir, which is merely a counterpart of Sif's tresses, as it also represents the fruits of the earth. The fly continues to torment the dwarf during the manufacture of Frey's golden-bristled boar, a prototype of Apollo's golden sun chariot, and it prevents the perfect formation of the handle of Thor's hammer. The magic ship Skidbladnir, also made by the dwarfs, is like the swift-sailing Argo, which was a personification of the clouds sailing overhead; and just as the former was said to be large enough to accommodate all the gods, so the latter bore all the Greek heroes off to the distant land of Colchis. The Germans, wishing to name the days of the week after their gods, as the Romans had done, gave the name of Thor to Jove's day, and thus made it the present Thursday. Thor's struggle against Hrungnir is a parallel to the fight between Hercules and Cacus or Antæus; while Groa is evidently Ceres, for she, too, mourns for her absent child Orvandil (Proserpine), and breaks out into a song of joy when she hears that it will return. Magni, Thor's son, who when only three hours old exhibits his marvellous strength by lifting Hrungnir's leg off his recumbent father, also reminds us of the infant Hercules; and Thor's voracious appetite at Thrym's wedding feast has its parallel in Mercury's first meal, which consisted of two whole oxen. The crossing of the swollen tide of Veimer by Thor reminds us of Jason's feat when he waded across the torrent on his way to visit the tyrant Pelias and recover possession of his father's throne. The marvellous necklace worn by Frigga and Freya to enhance their charms is like the cestus or girdle of Venus, which Juno borrowed to subjugate her lord, and is, like Sif's tresses and the ring Draupnir, an emblem of luxuriant vegetation or a type of the stars which shine in the firmament. The Northern sword-god Tyr is, of course, the Greek war-god Ares, whom he so closely resembles that his name was given to the day of the week held sacred to Ares, which is even now known as Tuesday or Tiu's day. Like Ares, Tyr was noisy and courageous; he delighted in the din of battle, and was fearless at all times. He alone dared to brave the Fenris wolf; and the Southern proverb concerning Scylla and Charybdis has its counterpart in the Northern adage, "to get loose out of Læding and to dash out of Droma." The Fenris wolf, also a personification of subterranean fire, is bound, like his prototypes the Titans, in Tartarus. The similarity between the gentle, music-loving Bragi, with his harp, and Apollo or Orpheus, is very great; so is the resemblance between the magic draught Od-hroerir and the waters of Helicon, both of which were supposed to serve as inspiration to mortal as well as to immortal poets. Odin dons eagle plumes to bear away this precious mead, and Jupiter assumes a similar guise to secure his cupbearer Ganymede. Idun, like Adonis and Proserpine, or still more like Eurydice, is also a fair personification of spring. She is borne away by the cruel ice giant Thiassi, who represents the boar which slew Adonis, the kidnapper of Proserpine, or the poisonous serpent which bit Eurydice. Idun is detained for a long time in Jötun-heim (Hades), where she forgets all her merry, playful ways, and becomes mournful and pale. She cannot return alone to Asgard, and it is only when Loki (now an emblem of the south wind) comes to bear her away in the shape of a nut or a swallow that she can effect her escape. She reminds us of Proserpine and Adonis escorted back to earth by Mercury (god of the wind), or of Eurydice lured out of Hades by the sweet sounds of Orpheus's harp, which were also symbolical of the soughing of the winds. Idun and Eurydice The myth of Idun's fall from Yggdrasil into the darkest depths of Nifl-heim, while subject to the same explanation and comparison as the above story, is still more closely related to the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, for the former, like Bragi, cannot exist without the latter, whom he follows even into the dark realm of death; without her his songs are entirely silenced. The wolf-skin in which Idun is enveloped is typical of the heavy snows in Northern regions, which preserve the tender roots from the blighting influence of the extreme winter cold. Skadi and Diana The Van Niörd, who is god of the sunny summer seas, has his counterpart in Neptune and more especially in Nereus, the personification of the calm and pleasant aspect of the mighty deep. Niörd's wife, Skadi, is the Northern huntress; she therefore resembles Diana. Like her, she bears a quiver full of arrows, and a bow which she handles with consummate skill. Her short gown permits the utmost freedom of motion, also, and she, too, is generally accompanied by a hound. The story of the transference of Thiassi's eyes to the firmament, where they glow like brilliant stars, reminds us of many Greek star myths, and especially of Argus's eyes ever on the watch, of Orion and his jewelled girdle, and of his dog Sirius, all changed into stars by the gods to appease angry goddesses. Loki's antics to win a smile from the irate Skadi are considered akin to the quivering flashes of sheet-lightning which he personified in the North, while Steropes, the Cyclops, typified it for the Greeks. Frey and Apollo The Northern god of sunshine and summer showers, the genial Frey, has many traits in common with Apollo, for, like him, he is beautiful and young, rides the golden-bristled boar which was the Northern conception of the sunbeams, or drives across the sky in a golden car, which reminds us of Apollo's glittering chariot. Frey has some of the gentle Zephyrus's characteristics besides, for he, too, scatters flowers along his way. His horse Blodug-hofi is not unlike Pegasus, Apollo's favourite steed, for it can pass through fire and water with equal ease and velocity. Fro, like Odin and Jupiter, is also identified with a human king, and his mound lies beside Odin's near Upsala. His reign was so happy that it was called the Golden Age, and he therefore reminds us of Saturn, who, exiled to earth, ruled over the people of Italy, and granted them similar prosperity. Freya and Venus Gerda, the beautiful maiden, is like Venus, and also like Atalanta; she is hard to woo and hard to win, like the fleet-footed maiden, but, like her, she yields at last and becomes a happy wife. The golden apples with which Skirnir tries to bribe her remind us of the golden fruit which Hippomenes cast in Atalanta's way, and which made her lose the race. Freya, the goddess of youth, love, and beauty, like Venus, sprang from the sea, for she is a daughter of the sea-god Niörd. Venus bestowed her best affections upon the god of war and upon the martial Anchises, while Freya often assumes the garb of a Valkyr, and rides rapidly to earth to take part in mortal strife and bear away the heroic slain to feast in her halls. Like Venus, she delights in offerings of fruits and flowers, and lends a gracious ear to the petitions of lovers. Freya also resembles Minerva, for, like her, she wears a helmet and breastplate, and, like her, also, she is noted for her beautiful blue eyes. Odur and Adonis Odur, Freya's husband, is like Adonis, and when he leaves her, she, too, sheds countless tears, which, in her case, are turned to gold, while Venus's tears are changed into anemones, and those of the Heliades, mourning for Phaeton, harden to amber, which resembles gold in colour and in consistency. Just as Venus rejoices at Adonis's return, and all Nature blooms in sympathy with her joy, so Freya becomes lighthearted once more when she has found her husband beneath the flowering myrtles of the South. Venus's car is drawn by fluttering doves, and Freya's is swiftly carried along by cats, which are emblems of sensual love, as the doves were considered types of tenderest love. Freya is appreciative of beauty and angrily refuses to marry Thrym, while Venus scorns and finally deserts Vulcan, whom she has been forced to marry against her will. The Greeks represented Justice as a goddess blindfolded, with scales in one hand and a sword in the other, to indicate the impartiality and the fixity of her decrees. The corresponding deity of the North was Forseti, who patiently listened to both sides of a question ere he, too, promulgated his impartial and irrevocable sentence. Uller, the winter-god, resembles Apollo and Orion only in his love for the chase, which he pursues with ardour under all circumstances. He is the Northern bowman, and his skill is quite as unerring as theirs. Heimdall, like Argus, was gifted with marvellous keenness of sight, which enabled him to see a hundred miles off as plainly by night as by day. His Giallar-horn, which could be heard throughout all the world, proclaiming the gods' passage to and fro over the quivering bridge Bifröst, was like the trumpet of the goddess Renown. As he was related to the water deities on his mother's side, he could, like Proteus, assume any form at will, and he made good use of this power on the occasion when he frustrated Loki's attempt to steal the necklace Brisinga-men. Hermod, the quick or nimble, resembles Mercury not only in his marvellous celerity of motion. He, too, was the messenger of the gods, and, like the Greek divinity, flashed hither and thither, aided not by winged cap and sandals, but by Odin's steed Sleipnir, whom he alone was allowed to bestride. Instead of the Caduceus, he bore the wand Gambantein. He questioned the Norns and the magician Rossthiof, through whom he learned that Vali would come to avenge his brother Balder and to supplant his father Odin. Instances of similar consultations are found in Greek mythology, where Jupiter would fain have married Thetis, yet desisted when the Fates foretold that if he did so she would be the mother of a son who would surpass his father in glory and renown. The Northern god of silence, Vidar, has some resemblance to Hercules, for while the latter has nothing but a club with which to defend himself against the Nemean lion, whom he tears asunder, the former is enabled to rend the Fenris wolf at Ragnarok by the possession of one large shoe. Rinda and Danae Odin's courtship of Rinda reminds us of Jupiter's wooing of Danae, who is also a symbol of the earth; and while the shower of gold in the Greek tale is intended to represent the fertilising sunbeams, the footbath in the Northern story typifies the spring thaw which sets in when the sun has overcome the resistance of the frozen earth. Perseus, the child of this union, has many points of resemblance with Vali, for he, too, is an avenger, and slays his mother's enemies just as surely as Vali destroys Hodur, the murderer of Balder. The Fates were supposed to preside over birth in Greece, and to foretell a child's future, as did the Norns; and the story of Meleager has its unmistakable parallel in that of Nornagesta. Althæa preserves the half-consumed brand in a chest, Nornagesta conceals the candle-end in his harp; and while the Greek mother brings about her son's death by casting the brand into the fire, Nornagesta, compelled to light his candle-end at Olaf's command, dies as it sputters and burns out. Hebe and the Valkyrs were the cupbearers of Olympus and Asgard. They were all personifications of youth; and while Hebe married the great hero and demigod Hercules when she ceased to fulfil her office, the Valkyrs were relieved from their duties when united to heroes like Helgi, Hakon, Völund, or Sigurd. The Cretan labyrinth has its counterpart in the Icelandic Völundarhaus, and Völund and Dædalus both effect their escape from a maze by a cleverly devised pair of wings, which enable them to fly in safety over land and sea and escape from the tyranny of their respective masters, Nidud and Minos. Völund resembles Vulcan, also, in that he is a clever smith and makes use of his talents to work out his revenge. Vulcan, lamed by a fall from Olympus, and neglected by Juno, whom he had tried to befriend, sends her a golden throne, which is provided with cunning springs to seize and hold her fast. Völund, hamstrung by the suggestion of Nidud's queen, secretly murders her sons, and out of their eyes fashions marvellous jewels, which she unsuspectingly wears upon her breast until he reveals their origin. Myths of the Sea Just as the Greeks fancied that the tempests were the effect of Neptune's wrath, so the Northern races attributed them either to the writhings of Iörmungandr, the Midgard snake, or to the anger of Ægir, who, crowned with seaweed like Neptune, often sent his children, the wave maidens (the counterpart of the Nereides and Oceanides), to play on the tossing billows. Neptune had his dwelling in the coral caves near the Island of Euboea, while Ægir lived in a similar palace near the Cattegat. Here he was surrounded by the nixies, undines, and mermaids, the counterpart of the Greek water nymphs, and by the river-gods of the Rhine, Elbe, and Neckar, who remind us of Alpheus and Peneus, the river-gods of the Greeks. The frequency of shipwrecks on the Northern coasts made the people think of Ran (the equivalent of the Greek sea-goddess Amphitrite) as greedy and avaricious, and they described her as armed with a strong net, with which she drew all things down into the deep. The Greek Sirens had their parallel in the Northern Lorelei, who possessed the same gift of song, and also lured mariners to their death; while Princess Ilse, who was turned into a fountain, reminds us of the nymph Arethusa, who underwent a similar transformation. In the Northern conception of Nifl-heim we have an almost exact counterpart of the Greek Hades. Mödgud, the guardian of the Giallar-bridge (the bridge of death), over which all the spirits of the dead must pass, exacts a tribute of blood as rigorously as Charon demands an obolus from every soul he ferries over Acheron, the river of death. The fierce dog Garm, cowering in the Gnipa hole, and keeping guard at Hel's gate, is like the three-headed monster Cerberus; and the nine worlds of Nifl-heim are not unlike the divisions of Hades, Nastrond being an adequate substitute for Tartarus, where the wicked were punished with equal severity. The custom of burning dead heroes with their arms, and of slaying victims, such as horses and dogs, upon their pyre, was much the same in the North as in the South; and while Mors or Thanatos, the Greek Death, was represented with a sharp scythe, Hel was depicted with a broom or rake, which she used as ruthlessly, and with which she did as much execution. Balder and Apollo Balder, the radiant god of sunshine, reminds us not only of Apollo and Orpheus, but of all the other heroes of sun myths. His wife Nanna is like Flora, and still more like Proserpine, for she, too, goes down into the underworld, where she tarries for a while. Balder's golden hall of Breidablik is like Apollo's palace in the east; he, also, delights in flowers; all things smile at his approach, and willingly pledge themselves not to injure him. As Achilles was vulnerable only in the heel, so Balder could be slain only by the harmless mistletoe, and his death is occasioned by Loki's jealousy just as Hercules was slain by that of Deianeira. Balder's funeral pyre on Ringhorn reminds us of Hercules's death on Mount OEta, the flames and reddish glow of both fires serving to typify the setting sun. The Northern god of sun and summer could only be released from Nifl-heim if all animate and inanimate objects shed tears; so Proserpine could issue from Hades only upon condition that she had partaken of no food. The trifling refusal of Thok to shed a single tear is like the pomegranate seeds which Proserpine ate, and the result is equally disastrous in both cases, as it detains Balder and Proserpine underground, and the earth (Frigga or Ceres) must continue to mourn their absence. Through Loki evil entered into the Northern world; Prometheus's gift of fire brought the same curse upon the Greeks. The punishment inflicted by the gods upon the culprits is not unlike, for while Loki is bound with adamantine chains underground, and tortured by the continuous dropping of venom from the fangs of a snake fastened above his head, Prometheus is similarly fettered to Caucasus, and a ravenous vulture continually preys upon his liver. Loki's punishment has another counterpart in that of Tityus, bound in Hades, and in that of Enceladus, chained beneath Mount Ætna, where his writhing produced earthquakes, and his imprecations caused sudden eruptions of the volcano. Loki, further, resembles Neptune in that he, too, assumed an equine form and was the parent of a wonderful steed, for Sleipnir rivals Arion both in speed and endurance. The Fimbul-winter has been compared to the long preliminary fight under the walls of Troy, and Ragnarok, the grand closing drama of Northern mythology, to the burning of that famous city. "Thor is Hector; the Fenris wolf, Pyrrhus, son of Achilles, who slew Priam (Odin); and Vidar, who survives in Ragnarok, is Æneas." The destruction of Priam's palace is the type of the ruin of the gods' golden halls; and the devouring wolves Hati, Sköll, and Managarm, the fiends of darkness, are prototypes of Paris and all the other demons of darkness, who bear away or devour the sun-maiden Helen. Ragnarok and the Deluge According to another interpretation, however, Ragnarok and the consequent submersion of the world is but a Northern version of the Deluge. The survivors, Lif and Lifthrasir, like Deucalion and Pyrrha, were destined to repeople the world; and just as the shrine of Delphi alone resisted the destructive power of the great cataclysm, so Gimli stood radiant to receive the surviving gods. Giants and Titans We have already seen how closely the Northern giants resembled the Titans. It only remains to mention that while the Greeks imagined that Atlas was changed into a mountain, so the Northmen believed that the Riesengebirge, in Germany, were formed from giants, and that the avalanches which descended from their lofty heights were the burdens of snow which these giants impatiently shook from their crests as they changed their cramped positions. The apparition, in the shape of a bull, of one of the water giants, who came to woo the queen of the Franks, has its parallel in the story of Jupiter's wooing of Europa, and Meroveus is evidently the exact counterpart of Sarpedon. A faint resemblance can be traced between the giant ship Mannigfual and the Argo, for while the one is supposed to have cruised through the Ægean and Euxine Seas, and to have made many places memorable by the dangers it encountered there, so the Northern vessel sailed about the North and Baltic Seas, and is mentioned in connection with the Island of Bornholm and the cliffs of Dover. While the Greeks imagined that Nightmares were the evil dreams which escaped from the Cave of Somnus, the Northern race fancied they were female dwarfs or trolls, who crept out of the dark recesses of the earth to torment them. All magic weapons in the North were said to be the work of the dwarfs, the underground smiths, while those of the Greeks were manufactured by Vulcan and the Cyclopes, under Mount Ætna, or on the Island of Lemnos. The Volsunga Saga In the Sigurd myth we find Odin one-eyed like the Cyclopes, who, like him, are personifications of the sun. Sigurd is instructed by Gripir, the horse-trainer, who is reminiscent of Chiron, the centaur. He is not only able to teach a young hero all he need know, and to give him good advice concerning his future conduct, but is also possessed of the gift of prophecy. The marvellous sword which becomes the property of Sigmund and of Sigurd as soon as they prove themselves worthy to wield it, and the sword Angurvadel which Frithiof inherits from his sire, remind us of the weapon which Ægeus concealed beneath the rock, and which Theseus secured as soon as he had become a man. Sigurd, like Theseus, Perseus, and Jason, seeks to avenge his father's wrongs ere he sets out in search of the golden hoard, the exact counterpart of the golden fleece, which is also guarded by a dragon, and is very hard to secure. Like all the Greek sun-gods and heroes, Sigurd has golden hair and bright blue eyes. His struggle with Fafnir reminds us of Apollo's fight with Python, while the ring Andvaranaut can be likened to Venus's cestus, and the curse attached to its possessor is like the tragedy of Helen, who brought endless bloodshed upon all connected with her. Sigurd could not have conquered Fafnir without the magic sword, just as the Greeks failed to take Troy without the arrows of Philoctetes, which are also emblems of the all-conquering rays of the sun. The recovery of the stolen treasure is like Menelaus's recovery of Helen, and it apparently brings as little happiness to Sigurd as his recreant wife did to the Spartan king. Brunhild Brunhild resembles Minerva in her martial tastes, physical appearance, and wisdom; but her anger and resentment when Sigurd forgets her for Gudrun is like the wrath of OEnone, whom Paris deserts to woo Helen. Brunhild's anger continues to accompany Sigurd through life, and she even seeks to compass his death, while OEnone, called to cure her wounded lover, refuses to do so and permits him to die. OEnone and Brunhild are both overcome by the same remorseful feelings when their lovers have breathed their last, and both insist upon sharing their funeral pyres, and end their lives by the side of those whom they had loved. Sun Myths Containing, as it does, a whole series of sun myths, the Volsunga Saga repeats itself in every phase; and just as Ariadne, forsaken by the sun-hero Theseus, finally marries Bacchus, so Gudrun, when Sigurd has departed, marries Atli, the King of the Huns. He, too, ends his life amid the flames of his burning palace or ship. Gunnar, like Orpheus or Amphion, plays such marvellous strains upon his harp that even the serpents are lulled to sleep. According to some interpretations, Atli is like Fafnir, and covets the possession of the gold. Both are therefore probably personifications "of the winter cloud which broods over and keeps from mortals the gold of the sun's light and heat, till in the spring the bright orb overcomes the powers of darkness and tempests, and scatters his gold over the face of the earth." Swanhild, Sigurd's daughter, is another personification of the sun, as is seen in her blue eyes and golden hair; and her death under the hoofs of black steeds represents the blotting out of the sun by clouds of storm or of darkness. Just as Castor and Pollux hasten to rescue their sister Helen when she has been borne away by Theseus, so Swanhild's brothers, Erp, Hamdir, and Sörli, hasten off to avenge her death. Such are the main points of resemblance between the mythologies of the North and South, and the analogy goes far to prove that they were originally formed from the same materials, the principal differences being due to the local colouring imparted unconsciously by the different races. NOTES [1] "Northern Mythology," Kauffmann. [2] Halliday Sparling. [3] Carlyle, "Heroes and Hero Worship." [4] "Northern Mythology," Kauffmann. 
46063	----	[Illustration: LEMNIAN ATHENA] THE CLASSIC MYTHS IN ENGLISH LITERATURE AND IN ART BASED ORIGINALLY ON BULFINCH'S "AGE OF FABLE" (1855) ACCOMPANIED BY AN INTERPRETATIVE AND ILLUSTRATIVE COMMENTARY BY CHARLES MILLS GAYLEY, LITT.D., LL.D. PROFESSOR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA _NEW EDITION_ _REVISED AND ENLARGED_ GINN AND COMPANY BOSTON · NEW YORK · CHICAGO · LONDON ATLANTA · DALLAS · COLUMBUS · SAN FRANCISCO COPYRIGHT, 1893, 1911, BY CHARLES MILLS GAYLEY ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 817.6 +The Athenæum Press+ GINN AND COMPANY · PROPRIETORS · BOSTON · U.S.A. TO THE MUSES Whether on Ida's shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ancient melody have ceas'd; Whether in Heav'n ye wander fair, Or the green corners of the earth, Or the blue regions of the air, Where the melodious winds have birth; Whether on crystal rocks ye rove, Beneath the bosom of the sea, Wandering in many a coral grove, Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry; How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move, The sound is forc'd, the notes are few! WILLIAM BLAKE O antique fables! beautiful and bright And joyous with the joyous youth of yore; O antique fables! for a little light Of that which shineth in you evermore, To cleanse the dimness from our weary eyes, And bathe our old world with a new surprise Of golden dawn entrancing sea and shore. JAMES THOMSON PREFACE In this new edition of "The Classic Myths in English Literature" the former order of materials has been altered in accordance with the advice of the teachers who have had longest experience with the use of the book; the old material has been thoroughly revised; and much new material has been added. Since most people prefer to begin a story at its beginning, and not with the career of its author and his genealogy, I have reserved the history of the myths for the conclusion of the text. Some of the myths have been restated in more careful form. Some short narratives, before omitted, have been included. The sketches of the Iliad and the Odyssey have been considerably expanded; and an outline--which, I hope, will be deemed adequate--of Wagner's version of the Ring of the Nibelung has been appended to the account of Norse and German mythology. That version is, of course, not English literature; but it has come to be received as the classic modern version of the story; and the story is needed, at some time or other, by every lover of music. Fresh examples of the employment of myth in English verse have, where practicable, been incorporated in the text; and some new references will be found in the Commentary. I have thoroughly revised the list of illustrative cuts, have interpreted the more difficult of the ancient figures, and indicated the sources. The pictures themselves are a decided improvement upon those in the former edition. In the determination of sources for reproduction, I have had the valuable assistance of Dr. E. von Mach, the author of more than one well-known work on ancient art; and to him I am indebted, in addition, for the section on The Classic Myths in Art, which is included in my Introduction. With this new equipment the book should prove more useful to those who here make their first acquaintance with art, especially the art of the ancients, as well as to those who have been in the habit of using it as a guide to paintings and sculptures of mythological subjects in foreign galleries. Much of our best English poetry lies beyond the imaginative reach of many readers because of their unfamiliarity with the commonplaces of literary allusion, reference, and tradition. Of such commonplaces few are more frequently recurrent than those furnished by the literature of myth. In view of this consideration, the Academic Council of the University of California, some twenty years ago, introduced into its requirements for entrance in English the subject of Classical Mythology in its relation to English Literature, and recommended, as a textbook for preparation, Bulfinch's "Age of Fable." The experience of English and classical teachers in the schools of the state attested the wisdom of the requirement; but the demand for some textbook adapted to the needs of the classroom made necessary the preparation of this volume. For while "The Age of Fable" offered a tempting collection of Greek, Norse, and Oriental narratives, it was designed neither as a schoolbook nor as a systematized presentation and interpretation of the myths that have most influenced English literature. At the request of my publishers I undertook at that time such a revision and rearrangement of the materials of "The Age of Fable" as might adapt it to the purposes of teacher and pupil, and to the taste of readers somewhat more advanced in years than those addressed by the original work or by the edition which bore the name of the Reverend Edward Everett Hale. But after a year's work I found that half my material for copy was new, and that the remainder differed in many important respects from the book upon which it was based. Consequently, while the obligation to "The Age of Fable" was acknowledged in full, a different title was selected for the resulting volume. For neither my publishers nor I desired that the scholarship or the taste of Mr. Bulfinch should be held accountable for liberties that were taken with his work. In "The Classic Myths in English Literature and in Art," Chapters XXIII-XXVII, containing sketches of the Fall of Troy, the Odyssey, the Æneid, and of certain Norse lays, are a revision of corresponding chapters in "The Age of Fable." Chapters VII-XX, and XXII, comprising Myths of the Greater Divinities of Heaven, Earth, the Underworld, and the Waters, Myths of the Lesser Divinities of the same regions, Myths of the Older Heroes and Myths of the Younger Heroes, and the outline of the Trojan War, represent a total rearrangement and recomposition of the original material, section by section, and frequently paragraph by paragraph,--such portions of "The Age of Fable" as have been retained being abridged or rewritten, and, in places too frequent to enumerate, supplemented by new and necessary sentences, paragraphs, and sections. The Introduction, the first six chapters (on the Greek Myths of the Creation, and the attributes of Greek and Roman divinities), Chapters XXI and XXVIII-XXXII (on the Houses concerned in the Trojan War, the Saga of the Volsungs, the Lay of the Nibelungs, Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung, and on the origin, elements, distribution, and preservation of myth), the choice of poetic and artistic illustration, the footnotes referring to sources, and the Commentary are wholly, or essentially, my own. In fact, there is little but the scaffolding of "The Age of Fable" now remaining in the book. Although in the Index of Mythological Subjects and their Sources the more common myths of some other nations are briefly stated, no myths save those known to the Greeks, Romans, Norsemen, or Germans have been included in the body of the text. The scope of selection has been thus confined for three reasons: first, the regard for necessary limits; second, the desirability of emphasizing only such myths as have actually acclimated themselves in English-speaking lands and have influenced the spirit, form, and habit of English imaginative thought; third, the necessity of excluding all but the unquestionably classic. The term _classic_, however, is, of course, not restricted to the products of Greece and Rome; nor is it employed as synonymous with Classical or as antithetical to Romantic. From the extreme Classical to the extreme Romantic is a far cry; but as human life knows no divorce of necessity from freedom, so genuine art knows neither an unrelieved Classical nor an unrestrained Romantic. Classical and Romantic are relative terms. The Classical and the Romantic of one generation may merit equally to be the classics of the next. Therefore certain Hellenic myths of romantic spirit or construction have been included in this work, and certain Norse and German myths have not been excluded. Whatever is admitted, is admitted as first-class: first-class, because simple, spontaneous, and beautiful; because fulfilling the requirements of perennial freshness, of æsthetic potency, and of ideal worth. In the matter of illustrative English and American poems the principle of selection has been that the verses shall translate a myth from the classic original, or exemplify the poetic idealization and embellishment of the subject, or suggest the spirit and mien of ancient art. But in each case regard has been had to the æsthetic value of the poem or the citation. In the search for suitable examples I have derived valuable assistance from Mr. E.C. Guild's "Bibliography of Greek Mythology in English Poetry of the Nineteenth Century" (Bowdoin College, _Library Bulletin No. 1_). The student is also referred to A.E. Sawtelle's "Sources of Spenser's Mythology," C.G. Osgood's' "Classical Mythology of Milton," and R.K. Root's "Classical Mythology in Shakespeare" (Holt, 1896, 1900, and 1903, respectively). In the Commentary four things have been attempted: first, an explanation, under each section, of ordinary textual difficulties; second, an unpretentious exposition of the myth or a brief statement of the more evident interpretations advanced by philologists or ethnologists; third, an indication of certain additional poems or verses that illustrate the myth; fourth, special mention of such masterpieces of ancient and modern sculpture and painting as may serve to introduce the student or the general reader to a field of æsthetic profit neglected by the great mass of our people. For the poetic conception of most of the myths contained in Chapters I-XXIV, we are indebted to the Greek imagination; but since this book is intended for students of English poetry, and since in English poetry Latin names of mythological characters are much more frequently employed than Greek, the Latin designations or Latinized forms of Greek names have been, so far as possible, retained; and such variations as Jupiter, Jove--Proserpina, Proserpine, freely used. In the chapters, however, on the attributes of the Greek gods, names exclusively Greek have been placed in parentheses after the usual Roman equivalents, Latin appellations, or designations common to both Greek and Roman usage. In the transliteration of Greek names I have followed, also, the prevalent practice of our poets, which is, generally speaking, the practice of the Romans. The diphthong #ei#, for instance, is transliterated according to the accepted English pronunciation, which in individual words perpetuates the preference of the Latins for the _e_ sound or the _i_ sound respectively. So #Atreidês# becomes Atr[=i]des; #Iphimedeia#, Iphimed[=i]a. But, on the other hand, #Kythereia# becomes Cyther[=e]a; #Pêneios#, Pen[=e]us; and #Mêdeia#, Med[=e]a; while owing to purely popular English custom, such a name as #Pheidias# has become, not Pheidias nor even Ph[=i]dias, but--_Ph[)i]dias_. A few names of islands, towns, persons, etc., that even in Latin retain their Greek forms,--such as Delos, Naxos, Argos, Aglauros, Pandrosos,--have been transferred without modification. So also has Poseidon, because that is the common English spelling. In short, the practice aimed at has been not that of scientific uniformity, but of acknowledged poetic usage. In the titles of the illustrative cuts, Greek names have been used for works of Greek origin, Latin for the Roman. For the benefit of readers who do not know the fundamental rules for the pronunciation of Greek and Latin proper names in English, a brief statement of rules is prefixed to the Index; and in the Index of Mythological Subjects and their Sources names are not only accented, but, when necessary, diacritically marked. In the preparation of the Text and Commentary more or less use has been made of: Roscher's Ausführliches Lexikon der griechischen und römischen Mythologie (Lieferungen 1-21, Teubner, Leipzig); Preller's Griechische Mythologie (2 Bde., Berlin, 1861); Max Müller's Chips from a German Workshop, Science of Religion (London, 1873), Science of Language (7th ed., 2 vols., London, 1873), Oxford Essays (1856); Sir G. W. Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations (2 vols., London, 1878); Frazer's Golden Bough; W. Warde Fowler's Roman Festivals (London, 1899); Welcker's Griechische Götterlehre; Baumeister's Denkmäler des klassischen Alterthums; Murray's Manual of Mythology (New York, 1880); Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology; Duruy's Histories of Rome and Greece; Keightley's Greek and Roman Mythology; Kelsey's Outline of Greek and Roman Mythology (Boston, 1889); Horn's Geschichte der Literatur des skandinavischen Nordens (Leipzig, 1880); Cleasby and Vigfusson's Icelandic Dictionary; Lüning's Die Edda (Zürich, 1859); Vigfusson and Powell's Corpus Poeticum Boreale (2 vols., Oxford, 1883); Paul's Grundriss der germanischen Philologie, 1 Bd., 5 Lfg. (article _Mythologie_, by E. Mogk); Grimm's Teutonic Mythology (translated by Stallybrass, 3 vols.); Werner Hahn's Das Nibelungenlied; Lang's Myth, Ritual, and Religion (2 vols., London, 1887), and _Mythology_ (Encyc. Brit., Vol. 9); Tylor's Anthropology (New York, 1881) and Primitive Culture (2 vols.); J. W. Powell's Annual Reports of the Bureau of Ethnology (7 vols., beginning 1879-1880, Washington, D.C.); Keary's Outlines of Primitive Belief; Fiske's Myths and Myth-makers (Boston); Whitney's Oriental and Linguistic Studies; W. P. Johnston's The Origin of Myth; and of other works to which due reference is made in the footnotes and Commentary. The student is also referred to F. B. Jevons' edition of Plutarch's Romane Questions, translated by Philemon Holland (London, 1892) (introduction on Roman Mythology); and to C.G. Leland's Etruscan-Roman Remains in Popular Tradition (London, 1892). The Maps, furnished by Messrs. Ginn and Company from other of their publications, have, with the kind consent of the authors of those works, in some instances been adapted by me to suit the present purpose. The principal authorities used in the selection of the illustrations of this new edition are: Baumeister, Denkmäler des klassischen Alterthums (3 vols., Munich, 1888); Furtwängler, Masterpieces of Greek Sculpture (London, 1905); Ernest Gardner, Ancient Athens (New York and London, 1902); Percy Gardner, A Grammar of Greek Art (New York and London, 1905); and Sculptured Tombs of Hellas (London, 1896); Percy Gardner and Jevons, A Manual of Greek Antiquities (London, 1895); Gerhard, Auserlesene griechische Vasenbilder (1840-1858); Gusman, Pompeii (London, 1900); Harrison and Maccoll, Greek Vase Paintings (London, 1894); E. von Mach, Handbook of Greek and Roman Sculpture (Boston, 1905); and Greek Sculpture, Its Spirit and Principles (Boston, 1903); A. S. Murray, Handbook of Greek Archæology (London, 1892); History of Greek Sculpture (2 vols., London, 1883); and Sculptures of the Parthenon (London, 1903); A. S. Murray and C. A. Hutton, Greek Bronzes and Terra Cotta Statuettes (London, 1898); C. O. Müller, Denkmäler der alten Kunst (Göttingen, 1832); Overbeck, Griechische Kunstmythologie (1871 ----); Emil Presuhn, Pompeii, 1874-1881 (Leipzig, 1882); Salomon Reinach, Peintures de vases antiques (including the collections of Millin, 1808, and Millingen, 1813 (Paris, 1891)), and Apollo (Paris, 1907); H. Roux Ainé, Herculaneum and Pompeii; Roscher, Ausführliches Lexikon der griechischen und römischen Mythologie (1884 ----) (Lieferungen 1-17 in Vol. I, 18 on in Vol. II); Anton Springer, Handbuch der Kunstgeschichte (I _Alterthum_, Leipzig, 1904); Charles Waldstein, The Argive Heræum (2 vols.); and the archæological periodicals as cited in the List of Illustrations. The acknowledgment of assistance made in the former edition is here renewed. CHARLES MILLS GAYLEY CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION xxix PART I MYTHS OF DIVINITIES AND HEROES CHAPTER I. GREEK MYTHS OF THE CREATION 1 Purpose of the Study. The Fable and the Myth. Origin of the World. Origin of the Gods. The Rule of Cronus. The War of the Titans. The Division of Empire. The Reign of Jupiter. The Origin of Man. Prometheus, a Creator. The Age of Gold. The Silver Age. Prometheus, Champion of Man. Pandora. Prometheus Bound. Longfellow's Prometheus. The Brazen Age. The Iron Age. The Flood. Deucalion and Pyrrha. The Demigods and Heroes. CHAPTER II. THE GODS OF HEAVEN 18 Olympus. The Great Gods. Jupiter (Zeus). Conceptions of Jupiter. Juno (Hera). Minerva (Athene or Athena). Mars (Ares). Vulcan (Hephæstus). Apollo. Shelley's Hymn of Apollo. Diana (Artemis). Jonson's Hymn to Cynthia. Venus (Aphrodite). The "Venus of Milo." Mercury (Hermes). Vesta (Hestia). The Lesser Divinities of Heaven. CHAPTER III. THE GODS OF EARTH 42 Conception of the World. Ceres (Demeter). Gæa (Ge). Bacchus (Dionysus). The Lesser Divinities of Earth. CHAPTER IV. THE GODS OF THE UNDERWORLD 47 The Underworld. Tartarus and the Elysian Fields. The Islands of the Blest. Pluto (Hades). Proserpina (Persephone). The Lesser Divinities of the Underworld. CHAPTER V. THE GODS OF THE WATERS 55 The Older Dynasty. The Younger Dynasty. The Lesser Divinities of the Waters. CHAPTER VI. THE ROMAN DIVINITIES 59 Gods Common to Greece and Italy. Italian Gods. CHAPTER VII. MYTHS OF THE GREAT DIVINITIES OF HEAVEN 64 Myths of Jupiter and Juno. Love Affairs of Jupiter. Io. Callisto. Europa. Semele. Ægina. Antiope. Jupiter, a Friend of Man. Juno's Best Gift. Myths of Minerva. Arachne. Myths of Mars. Mars and Diomede. Mars and Minerva. The Fortunes of Cadmus. Myths of Vulcan. Myths of Apollo. The Wanderings of Latona. Apollo, the Light Triumphant. Hyacinthus. Phaëthon. The Plague sent upon the Greeks before Troy. The Punishment of Niobe. The Lamentation for Linus. Æsculapius. Apollo in Exile. Lowell's Shepherd of King Admetus. Admetus and Alcestis. Apollo, the Musician. Apollo, Pan, and Midas. Shelley's Hymn of Pan. Marsyas. The Loves of Apollo. Daphne. Marpessa. Clytie. Myths of Diana. The Flight of Arethusa. Shelley's Arethusa. The Fate of Actæon. The Fortunes and Death of Orion. The Pleiads. Endymion. Myths of Venus. Adonis. Cupid and Psyche. Keats' Ode to Psyche. Atalanta's Race. Hero and Leander. Pygmalion and the Statue. Pyramus and Thisbe. Phaon. The Vengeance of Venus. Myths of Mercury. CHAPTER VIII. MYTHS OF THE GREAT DIVINITIES OF EARTH 152 Myths of Bacchus. The Wanderings of Bacchus. The Story of Acetes. The Choice of King Midas. CHAPTER IX. FROM THE EARTH TO THE UNDERWORLD 159 Myths of Ceres, Pluto, and Proserpine. The Rape of Proserpine. The Wanderings of Ceres. Triptolemus and the Eleusinian Mysteries. Orpheus and Eurydice. CHAPTER X. MYTHS OF NEPTUNE, RULER OF THE WATERS 169 Lord of the Sea. Lord of Streams and Fountains. Pelops and Hippodamia. CHAPTER XI. MYTHS OF THE LESSER DIVINITIES OF HEAVEN 172 Myths of Stars and Winds. Cephalus and Procris. Dobson's The Death of Procris. Ceyx and Halcyone. Aurora and Tithonus. Tennyson's Tithonus. Memnon. CHAPTER XII. MYTHS OF THE LESSER DIVINITIES OF EARTH, ETC. 181 Pan, and the Personification of Nature. Stedman's Pan in Wall Street. Other Lesser Gods of Earth. Echo and Narcissus. Echo, Pan, Lyde, and the Satyr. The Naiads. The Dryads, or Hamadryads. Erysichthon. Dryope. Rh[oe]cus. Pomona and Vertumnus. The Cranes of Ibycus. CHAPTER XIII. MYTHS OF LESSER DIVINITIES OF THE WATERS 198 Galatea and Polyphemus. Glaucus and Scylla. Nisus and Scylla. Leucothea. Proteus and Aristæus. Acheloüs and Hercules. Milton's Sabrina Fair. CHAPTER XIV. MYTHS OF THE OLDER HEROES: THE HOUSE OF DANAÜS, AND ITS CONNECTIONS 206 The Older and the Younger Heroes. The Genealogy of Danaüs. The Danaïds. The Doom of King Acrisius. Perseus and Medusa. Perseus and Atlas. Perseus and Andromeda. Bellerophon and the Chimæra. Hercules (Heracles): His Youth. His Labors. His Later Exploits. The Loss of Hylas. The Rescue of Daphnis. The Expedition against Laomedon. The Death of Hercules. CHAPTER XV. THE FAMILY OF ÆOLUS 229 Descendants of Deucalion. The Quest of the Golden Fleece. The Return of the Argonauts. Medea and Æson. Pelias. CHAPTER XVI. THE FAMILY OF ÆTOLUS AND ITS CONNECTIONS 237 The Calydonian Hunt. Merope. Castor and Pollux. The Twin Brethren among the Romans. CHAPTER XVII. THE HOUSE OF MINOS 246 Minos of Crete. Dædalus and Icarus. CHAPTER XVIII. THE HOUSE OF CECROPS AND ERICHTHONIUS 249 From Cecrops to Philomela. Matthew Arnold's Philomela. Theseus. Theseus and Ariadne. Bacchus and Ariadne. The Amazons. Theseus and Pirithoüs. Phædra and Hippolytus. CHAPTER XIX. THE HOUSE OF LABDACUS 261 The Misfortunes of Thebes. [OE]dipus and the Sphinx. [OE]dipus, the King. [OE]dipus at Colonus. CHAPTER XX. MYTHS OF THE YOUNGER HEROES: THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES 265 Their Exploits. The Seven against Thebes. Antigone. The Epigoni. CHAPTER XXI. HOUSES CONCERNED IN THE TROJAN WAR 269 Three Families. Peleus. Achilles, Son of Peleus. Atreus. Tyndareus. CHAPTER XXII. THE TROJAN WAR 277 Its Origin. Iphigenia in Aulis. Protesilaüs and Laodamia. Homer's Iliad. The Wrath of Achilles. The Enlistment of the Gods. Thetis intercedes for Achilles. Agamemnon calls a Council. Paris plays the Champion. Helen surveys the Grecian Host. Menelaüs defeats Paris. The Two Days' Battle. Hector and Andromache. Neptune aids the Discouraged Greeks. Jupiter inspirits the Trojans. Achilles and Patroclus. Patroclus in the Armor of Achilles. The Deaths of Sarpedon and Patroclus. The Remorse of Achilles. The Reconciliation of Agamemnon and Achilles. The Death of Hector. Achilles drags the Body of Hector. Priam in the Tent of Achilles. CHAPTER XXIII. THE FALL OF TROY 307 The Fall of Troy. The Death of Achilles. Contest for the Arms of Achilles. Paris and [OE]none. The Palladium. The Wooden Horse. Laocoön and the Serpents. The Death of Priam. The Survivors. Helen, Menelaüs, and Agamemnon. Electra and Orestes. Orestes pursued by the Furies. His Purification. CHAPTER XXIV. THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES 318 From Troy to Phæacia. The Lotos-eaters. The Cyclopes. The Bag of Winds. The Læstrygonians. The Isle of Ææa. Ulysses visits Hades. The Sirens. Scylla and Charybdis. The Cattle of the Sun. Calypso's Island. The Land of the Phæacians. Fate of the Suitors. Tennyson's Ulysses. CHAPTER XXV. ADVENTURES OF ÆNEAS 346 From Troy to Italy. The Departure from Troy. The Promised Empire. The Harpies. Epirus. The Cyclopes Again. The Resentment of Juno. The Sojourn at Carthage. Dido. Palinurus. Italy at Last. The Sibyl of Cumæ. The Infernal Regions. The Elysian Fields. The Valley of Oblivion. CHAPTER XXVI. THE WAR BETWEEN TROJANS AND LATINS 362 The Fulfillment of Prophecy. The Gates of Janus Opened. Camilla. Alliance with Evander. The Site of Future Rome. Turnus attacks the Trojan Camp. Nisus and Euryalus. The Death of Mezentius. The Deaths of Pallas and Camilla. The Final Conflict. CHAPTER XXVII. MYTHS OF THE NORSE GODS 373 The Creation. Yggdrasil. Odin and his Valhalla. The Valkyries. Thor and the Other Gods. Loki and his Progeny. The Conflict with the Mountain Giants. The Recovery of Thor's Hammer. Thor's Visit to Jötunheim. The Sword of Freyr. The Death of Balder. The Funeral of Balder. The Elves. Ragnarok. CHAPTER XXVIII. MYTHS OF NORSE AND OLD GERMAN HEROES 398 The Saga of the Volsungs. The Lay of the Nibelungs. CHAPTER XXIX. THE RING OF THE NIBELUNG 410 Wagner's Tetralogy. The Rhine-gold. The Valkyrie. Siegfried. The Twilight of the Gods. PART II THE HISTORY OF MYTH CHAPTER XXX. THE ORIGIN AND ELEMENTS OF MYTH 431 Kinds of Myth. Divisions of Inquiry. Elements of the Myth. Reasonable Myths. Unreasonable Myths. Theory of Deterioration. Theory of Progress. CHAPTER XXXI. THE DISTRIBUTION OF MYTHS 447 Theories of Resemblance. CHAPTER XXXII. THE PRESERVATION OF MYTHS 450 Traditional History. In Greece. Roman Poets of Mythology. Records of Norse Mythology. Records of German Mythology. Records of Oriental Mythology: Egyptian. Indian Records. Persian Records. COMMENTARY 465 RULES FOR PRONUNCIATION 541 INDEX OF MYTHOLOGICAL SUBJECTS AND SOURCES 543 INDEX OF MODERN AUTHORS AND ARTISTS 582 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FIGURE PAGE 1. Jupiter surveying the World. Roman Wall Painting, Naples: _Herculaneum and Pompeii, by H. Roux Ainé_ 3 2. Athena and Giant. Greek Bronze, Mus. Kircherianum: _Journal of Hellenic Studies, 4, 90_ 7 3. Zeus and Giants. Ancient Gem: _Baumeister 3, 1791_ 8 4. Prometheus making Man. Roman Sarcophagus in the Capitoline: _Baumeister 3, 1568_ 9 Upper row, from left to right: Oceanus, the Sun-god, Clotho, Lachesis, etc. Lower row: Cupid and Psyche, Gæa (Tellus), Prometheus, the newly created Man to whom Minerva gives life (the butterfly). Death, Cupid with down-turned torch, the first man dead, Atropos, Mercury. 5. Poseidon (Neptune), Dionysus (Bacchus) and Goddess. East Frieze, Parthenon, in the British Museum: _Photograph_ 17 6. Two Hours. Greek Vase Painting, St. Petersburg: _Roscher 1, 2727_ 18 7. Zeus from Dodona. Greek Bronze: _Photograph_ 20 8. Zeus after Phidias. Coin of Elis: _A. S. Murray, Greek Bronzes, opp. p. 81_ 21 9. Hera of Argos. Greek Marble: _Argive Heræum, 1_ 22 10. Athena Velletri. Ancient Marble in the Louvre: _Photograph_ 23 11. Ares Ludovisi. Ancient Marble in Rome: _Photograph_ 24 12. Ares (Mars). Painting by Raphael: _Photograph_ 25 13. The Forge of Vulcan. Roman Relief: _Baumeister 3, 1640_ 25 14. Apollo (so-called Adonis). Ancient Marble in the Vatican: _Photograph_ 26 15. Apollo Belvedere. Ancient Marble in the Vatican: _Photograph_ 27 16. Apollo. Greek Bronze from Thessaly, British Museum: _Murray, Greek Bronzes, Fig. 28_ 28 17. Diana. Painting by Correggio: _Photograph_ 29 18. Diana (Artemis) of Versailles. Ancient Marble in the Louvre: _Photograph_ 30 19. Artemis Knagia. Ancient Silver Medallion from Herculaneum: _Roscher 1, 566_ 31 20. Hermes Psychopompos. Greek Stele of Myrrhina: _P. Gardner, Sculptured Tombs, Fig. 72_ 34 Hermes (Mercury) leading to the underworld the spirit of a lady, Myrrhina, who has just died. From a relief on her tomb. 21. Eros (Cupid). Ancient Marble, Naples: _Photograph_ 36 22. Rape of Ganymede. Ancient Marble in the Vatican: _Baumeister 2, 891_ 37 23. Polyhymnia. Ancient Marble, Berlin: _Baumeister 2, 1185_ 37 24. The Three Fates. Painting attributed to Michelangelo, but recently conjectured to be by Rosso Fiorentino. Florence: _Photograph_ 38 25. Boreas. Greek Reliefs, Athens: _Baumeister 3, 2370_ 39 26. Zephyros. Greek Reliefs, Athens: _Baumeister 3, 2370_ 39 27. Boreas carrying off Orithyia. Greek Vase Painting, Munich: _Baumeister 1, 373_ 40 28. Iris carrying Child. Vase Painting: _Gerhard, Auserlesene Vasenbilder, 2, 83_ 41 29. Demeter of Knidos. Greek Marble in the British Museum: _E. von Mach, Handbook of Greek and Roman Sculpture, Plate 247_ 42 30. Ceres. Roman Wall Painting: _I. Weir, Greek Painting, p. 343_ 43 31. Dionysus and the Vine. Ancient Marble in the British Museum: _Roscher 1, 292_ 44 32. Pan the Hunter. Ancient Terra Cotta: _Murray and Hutton, Plate VI_ 45 33. A Satyr with Grafting Materials. Ancient Gem: _Pine's Virgil_ 46 34. The Greek Underworld. Ancient Vase Painting from Canusium: _Baumeister 3, 2042 B_ 48 Center: Hades and Persephone. Above, left: Megara, wife of Heracles, and two of her children, slain by Heracles when mad. Above, right: a Fury guarding Pirithoüs and Theseus. Middle, left: Orpheus playing and dancing, and an unknown family group. Middle, right: the three judges of the dead. Below: Sisyphus, a Fury, Hermes, Heracles with Cerberus, a Fury, Tantalus. 35. Hermes conducting a Soul to Charon. Ancient Terra Cotta: _Archäologische Zeitung, Berlin_ 49 36. Hypnos (_Somnus_, Sleep). _Murray, Greek Bronzes, opp. p. 72_ 50 37. A Fury. Ancient Vase Painting: _Roscher 1, 1334_ 51 38. Hades. Ancient Marble in the Villa Borghese, Rome: _Baumeister 1, 690_ 53 39. Death, Sleep, and Hermes laying a Body in the Tomb. Ancient Vase Painting: _P. Gardner, Sculptured Tombs, Fig. 5_ 54 40. Poseidon from Dodona. Greek Bronze in the British Museum: _Murray, Greek Bronzes, Fig. 32_ 55 41. Wedding of Poseidon and Amphitrite. Ancient Marble Frieze, Munich: _Baumeister 3, 1744 B_ 56 42. Triton carrying off a Nymph. Ancient Marble in the Vatican: _Baumeister 3, 1964_ 57 43. Bearded Janus. Roman Coin: _Baumeister 2, 1166 A_ 60 44. Genius Loci. Wall Painting from Herculaneum in the Naples Museum: _Gusman, Pompeii, p. 107_ 62 45. Ganymede feeding the Eagle. Ancient Relief: _Pietro Santi Bartoli, Gli. Antichi Sepolcri_ 64 46. Hermes (Mercury) kills Argus in presence of Zeus. Ancient Vase Painting: _Roscher 2, 279_ 65 47. Io, Argus, and Mercury. Wall Painting from Herculaneum in the Naples Museum: _Baumeister 1, 802_ 66 48. Europa on the Bull. Greek Vase Painting: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate IV_ 69 49. Nereïds on Sea Beasts. Ancient Marble Frieze in Munich: _Baumeister 3, 1744 A_ 70 50. Youthful Bacchus embracing Semele in presence of Apollo and a Satyr. Etruscan Mirror, Berlin: _Baumeister 1, 557_ 71 51. Amphion and Zethus. Ancient Relief in the Palazzo Spada, Rome: _Roscher 2, 311_ 76 52. Contest of Athena and Poseidon for the Supremacy of Athens. Ancient Vase Painting, St. Petersburg: _Baumeister 3, 1542_ 83 53. Athena. Ancient Marble in Hope Collection: _Furtwängler, Masterpieces, Fig. 27_ 85 54. Cadmus slaying the Dragon. Ancient Vase Painting, Naples: _Baumeister 2, 822_ 87 Athena counseling. Above: river-god Ismenos, fountain-nymph Krene, and personification of Thebes. 55. Harmonia in Company of Deities. Greek Vase Painting: _Ephemeris, 1897-1898, Plate X_ 89 Aphrodite, Eros, Harmonia standing, Peitho (Persuasion) sitting, and Koré, Hebe, Himeros (Desire). 56. The Forge of Vulcan. Painting by Velasquez: _Photograph_ 90 57. A Sacrifice to Apollo. Greek Vase Painting: _Gardner-Jevons Manual, p. 249, Fig. 16_ 91 58. Apollo with Hyacinthus. Ancient Marble in Hope Collection: _Roscher 16-17, 2765_ 93 59. The Fall of Phaëthon. Roman Relief in the Louvre: _Baumeister 3, 1449_ 97 Upper left-hand corner: Phaëthon making his request of Helios (Ph[oe]bus). Below: the Heliades turning into trees. Center: the maddened horses, one chariot wheel, and Phaëthon falling into the arms of Eridanus. The horsemen left and right of the four horses are Castor and Pollux. Earth-gods, sea-gods, and other figures. 60. A Son of Niobe. Ancient Marble in Florence: _Baumeister 3, 1751_ 100 61. The Children of Niobe. Ancient Relief, St. Petersburg: _Baumeister 3, 1759_ 101 62. Niobe and her Youngest Daughter. Ancient Marble, Florence: _Baumeister 3, 1746_ 102 63. Æsculapius (Asklepios). Ancient Marble, Florence: _Furtwängler, Masterpieces, Fig. 87_ 104 64. Admetus must Die. Wall painting from Herculaneum in Naples: _Baumeister 1, 53_ 106 65. Heracles. Ancient Marble in Lansdowne House: _Photograph_ 108 66. The Palatine Apollo. Ancient Marble in Vatican: _Baumeister 1, 104_ 110 67. Daphne. Ancient Marble: _Springer, Kunstgeschichte, 1, 336_ 113 68. Artemis (Diana). Ancient Marble, Dresden: _Furtwängler, Masterpieces, p. 325_ 117 69. Arethusa. Ancient Coin: _Baumeister 2, 1140_ 118 70. A Young River-god. Ancient Bronze Head: _Roscher 9, 1489_ 119 71. Actæon. Ancient Marble Relief: _Baumeister 1, 41_ 121 72. The Pleiades. Painting by Elihu Vedder: _Photograph_ 123 73. Endymion. Ancient Relief in the Capitoline, Rome: _E. von Mach, Handbook of Greek and Roman Sculpture, Plate 306_ 124 74. The Death of Adonis. Ancient Marble in the Louvre: _Baumeister 1, 17_ 127 Right: Adonis leaves Venus. Center: he is wounded. Left: he is cared for by Venus, Cupid, and attendants. 75. Psyche at the Couch of Cupid. Painting by Thumann: _Photograph_ 130 76. Psyche and Cupid on Mount Olympus. Painting by Thumann: _Photograph_ 136 77. Artemis of Gabii. Ancient Marble in the Louvre: _E. von Mach, Handbook of Greek and Roman Sculpture, Plate 207_ 139 78. Atalanta's Race. Painting by Poynter: _Photograph_ 140 79. Hero and Leander. Painting by Keller: _Photograph_ 144 80. Thisbe. Painting by Edward Burne-Jones: _Photograph_ 148 81. Hermes and Dog disguised as Pig. Ancient Vase Painting, Vienna: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XXXIIIa_ 151 82. Silenus taking Dionysus (Bacchus) to School. Ancient Terra Cotta: _Murray and Hutton, Fig. 36_ 152 83. Bearded Dionysus on Mule, attended by Satyr. Old Greek Terra Cotta Relief: _Baumeister 1, 481_ 153 84. Satyr and Mænad with Child Dionysus. Ancient Relief: _Baumeister 2, 932_ 154 85. Dionysus at Sea. Greek Vase Painting in the Pinakothek, Munich: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate I_ 155 86. Bacchic Procession. Greek Vase Painting: _Arch. Zeit._ 156 87. Dionysus visiting a Poet. Ancient Relief, Naples: _Baumeister 3, 1849_ 157 88. Rape of Proserpina. Ancient Relief: _Baumeister 1, 461_ 159 89. Hades and Persephone. Ancient Terra Cotta: _P. Gardner, Sculptured Tombs, Fig. 29_ 161 90. Sacrifice to Demeter and Persephone. Greek Relief in Paris: _Baumeister 1, 457_ 162 91. Triptolemus and the Eleusinian Deities. Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 3, 1958_ 164 Demeter behind the chariot and Persephone and the nymph Eleusis in front. 92. Demeter (Ceres), Triptolemus, and Proserpina. Greek Relief: _E. von Mach, Handbook of Greek and Roman Sculpture, Plate 178_ 165 93. Orpheus and Eurydice. Painting by Lord Leighton: _Photograph_ 166 94. Farewell of Orpheus and Eurydice (Mercury ready to lead her away). Ancient Marble Relief in Villa Albani, Rome: _Photograph_ 167 95. Isthmian Poseidon. Ancient Marble in Lateran: _Springer, Kunstgeschichte, 1, Fig. 495_ 169 96. Pelops winning the Race; Hippodamia looking on. Ancient Vase Painting: _Baumeister 2, 1395_ 171 97. Phosphor, Eos, and Helios (the Sun) rising from the Sea. Ancient Vase Painting: _Gerhard, Akademische Abhandlungen_ 172 98. Sun, rising, preceded by Dawn. Painting by Guido Reni: _Photograph_ 173 99. Sunrise; Eos (Dawn) pursuing Cephalus. Greek Vase Painting: _P. Gardner, Grammar of Greek Art, Fig. 71_ 174 The young stars descending; to the left, the moon (Selene) riding over the hills. 100. The God of Sleep. Ancient Relief: _Baumeister 1, 770_ 176 101. The Death of Memnon (Aurora lifting his body). Greek Vase Painting in the Louvre: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XVIII_ 180 102. Pan blowing his Pipe, Echo answering. Ancient Earthenware Lamp: _Baumeister 1, 514_ 182 103. The Music Lesson (Pan teaching a Boy). Ancient Marble, Florence: _Baumeister 2, 1340_ 184 104. Bacchic Dance (Nymph and Satyrs). Ancient Relief: _Baumeister 3, 1931_ 184 105. Silenus. From an ancient candelabrum in Munich: _Baumeister 2, 895_ 185 106. Satyr (Marble Faun). Ancient Marble in the Capitoline, Rome: _Photograph_ 186 107. Satyr swinging Maiden. Greek Vase Painting in Berlin: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XXXII_ 186 108. Satyr drinking from Amphora. Ancient Vase Painting in Baltimore: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate IX_ 187 109. Narcissus gazing at his Reflection. Wall Painting from Pompeii, Naples: _Baumeister 2, 1213_ 188 110. A Rustic. Wall Painting from Herculaneum 195 111. A Rustic. Wall Painting from Herculaneum 196 112. Galatea and Polyphemus. Wall Painting in House of Germanicus, Rome: _Roscher 9, 1587_ 199 113. A Sea-god, perhaps Glaucus. Ancient Marble in Vatican: _Baumeister 2, 987_ 200 114. Nereïds and Sea Monsters. Ancient Relief: _Baumeister 2, 1216_ 204 115. The Danaïds. Ancient Marble Relief in Vatican: _Roscher 6, 951_ 207 116. Danaë and Perseus and the Chest. Greek Vase Painting in St. Petersburg: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XXXIV_ 208 117. Medusa Rondanini (Front View). Ancient Marble in Munich: _Furtwängler, Masterpieces, Fig. 63_ 209 118. Medusa Rondanini (Profile). Ancient Marble in Munich: _Furtwängler, Masterpieces, Fig. 63_ 209 119. Perseus. Marble by Cellini in Florence: _Photograph_ 210 120. Perseus with the Head of Medusa. Ancient Vase Painting: _Gerhard_ 211 121. Perseus finds Andromeda. Ancient Vase Painting in Museum, Berlin: _Jahrbuch des D. Arch. Instituts XI (1896), Plate II_ 212 Right: Aphrodite holding wreath over Perseus' head. Left: Cepheus seated, Hermes with his wand, and an Æthiopian inhabitant. 122. Bellerophon and Pegasus. Ancient Relief: _Baumeister 1, 317_ 215 123. Heracles strangling the Nemean Lion. Greek Vase Painting in British Museum: _Baumeister 1, 722_ 217 Left: Iolaiis and the local nymph Nemea. Right: Athena and Hermes. 124. Heracles killing the Hydra (behind him Athena and Iolaiis). Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 1, 724_ 217 125. Heracles bringing Home the Boar (Eurystheus hiding in a wine jar). Greek Vase Painting: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XII_ 218 126. Heracles with the Bull: Metope of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia: _Baumeister 2, 1285_ 219 127. Heracles and Cerberus. Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 1, 730_ 220 Left: Athena and Hermes. Right: Goddess of the Underworld. 128. Heracles and Antæus. Greek Vase Painting in Athens: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XXIV_ 221 129. Hercules and Nessus (Dejanira in Chariot). Wall Painting from Pompeii: _Baumeister 1, 733_ 226 130. The Building of the Argo, Athene directing. Ancient Terra Cotta Relief in the British Museum: _Baumeister 1, 127_ 229 131. Jason conquers the Bulls and steals the Fleece. Ancient Relief in Vienna: _Baumeister 2, 981_ 231 Center: Æetes seated. Right: Medea assists her lover. 132. Medea deliberating upon the Murder of her Children. Wall Painting from Herculaneum: _Baumeister 2, 948_ 234 133. Medea and Daughters of Pelias preparing the Caldron. Ancient Marble Relief, Berlin: _Photograph_ 235 134. Meleager on the Boar Hunt. Roman Relief: _Baumeister 2, 990_ 238 Atalanta appears twice,--as before the hunt to the left of the central figures, as during the hunt in front of Meleager, and shooting an arrow into the boar. 135. The Death of Meleager. Roman Sarcophagus in the Louvre: _Baumeister 2, 991_ 241 Right: the contest between Meleager and his uncles. Left: Althæa putting the fateful brand into the fire; behind her a Fury whose torch has lighted the fire. Center: the dying Meleager, and Atalanta seated mourning. 136, 137. Castor and Pollux capturing the Giant Talus. Ancient Vase Painting: _Baumeister 3, 1804_ 244, 245 Pollux on foot in front of Medea. Seated Deities on right, Poseidon and Amphitrite. 138. Dædalus and Icarus. Ancient Relief in the Villa Albani, Rome: _Roscher 6, 934_ 247 139. So-called Theseus. Greek Marble in the Parthenon: _Baumeister 2, 1370_ 249 140. Æthra caresses Theseus and sends him forth with his Father's Sword. Greek Vase Painting, St. Petersburg: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XXII_ 251 141. Theseus receiving Thanks from the Rescued after killing the Minotaur. Campanian Wall Painting in Naples: _Baumeister 3, 1876_ 252 142. The Sleeping Ariadne. Ancient Marble in Vatican: _Baumeister 1, 130_ 254 143. Head of Dionysus. Ancient Marble, Leyden: _Roscher 7, 1128_ 256 144. The Revels of Bacchus and Ariadne. Roman Sarcophagus: _Baumeister 1, 492_ 257 Large figures from left to right: Priest, Satyr, Mænad, Mercury, Bacchus and Ariadne seated, Satyr, Mænad, priest. Small figures: Desire (Himeros) and Love leading Pan captive, followed by Silenus. 145. Lapith and Centaur fighting. Greek Metope from the Parthenon, British Museum: _Photograph_ 259 146. [OE]dipus and the Sphinx. Greek Vase Painting: _P. Gardner, Grammar of Greek Art, Fig. 70_ 261 147. Eteocles and Polynices kill each other. Etruscan Relief, Florence: _Baumeister 3, 1841_ 266 148. The Gods bring Wedding Gifts. Ancient Relief from the Villa Albani, Rome: _Baumeister 1, 759_ 271 From right to left, married couple, Vulcan, Minerva, the four seasons (Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn) Hymen with torch, Comus, Amor pushing jealous deity away. 149. Map of the Troad and the Hellespont 273 150. Helen persuaded by Aphrodite; Paris (Alexander) held by Love. Ancient Relief in Naples: _E. von Mach, Handbook, Plate 312_ 277 151. Achilles taken from Scyros by Ulysses (to the right) and Diomedes (to the left). Pompeian Wall Painting, Naples: _Roscher 1, 27_ 279 152. The Sacrifice of Iphigenia. Pompeian Wall Painting, Naples: _Baumeister 1, 807_ 281 153. The Surrender of Briseïs. Relief by Thorwaldsen: _Photograph_ 284 154. Hector's Farewell. Relief by Thorwaldsen: _Photograph_ 291 155, 156. The Embassy to Achilles. Greek Vase Painting: _P. Gardner, Grammar of Greek Art, Fig. 72_ 294, 295 Left section: Briseïs is led away. Right section: Ajax and Ulysses, leaning on staff, plead with Achilles; at the right, Ph[oe]nix. 157. The Battle by the Ships. Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 1, 783_ 296 Perhaps the moment when Ajax retreats. Hector presses upon him followed by a youth with a torch. At the extreme right, Paris drawing a bow. 158. Supposed Menelaüs with the Body of Patroclus. Ancient Marble, Florence: _Baumeister 1, 785_ 298 159. Contest of Achilles and Hector. Ancient Vase Painting: _Baumeister 1, 788_ 302 Left: Athene. Right: Apollo. 160. Achilles over the Body of Hector at the Tomb of Patroclus (whose shade is running above the tomb). Greek Vase Painting: _P. Gardner, Sculptured Tombs, Fig. 40_ 303 161. Priam's Visit to Achilles (under whose couch lies the body of Hector). Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 1, 791_ 304 Achilles has been taking his dinner. Servants bear gifts behind Priam. 162. Achilles and the Amazon Penthesilea. Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 3, 2123_ 307 163. [OE]none warning Paris not to sail for Greece. Ancient Relief, in the Villa Ludovisi, Rome: _Baumeister 2, 1360_ 309 164. The Wooden Horse. Ancient Gem: _Baumeister 1, 794_ 310 165, 166. The Sack of Troy. Greek Vase Painting, Naples: _Baumeister 1, 795_ 312, 313 Priam on altar, Astyanax on his lap, and Polites, whom Pyrrhus has just killed, at his feet. Pyrrhus is about to strike Priam. Behind him rushes Andromache to strike a kneeling soldier. Below, under the palm tree, sits Hecuba facing the statue of Minerva (a Palladium) behind which Helen is seen to cower. In front Cassandra clings to the statue, while Ajax, striding over the body of her dead lover, tries to drag her away by the hair. To the left, Æneas, with Anchises in his arms, and little Ascanius are hastening away. 167. Orestes and Electra at the Tomb of Agamemnon. Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 3, 1939_ 315 168. Orestes pursued by Furies. Greek Vase Painting: _Baumeister 2, 1313_ 316 169. Orestes and Pylades before the King of the Tauri (Iphigenia as a priestess on the steps of the temple). Wall Painting from Pompeii, Naples: _Springer, Kunstgeschichte, 1, 529_ 316 170. Ulysses offering the Cyclops Wine. Ancient Statuette in the Vatican: _Baumeister 2, 1251_ 318 171. Boring out the Cyclops' Eye. From an Attic Vase: _P. Gardner, Grammar of Greek Art, p. 225_ 322 172. Ulysses and Two Companions under the Rams. Greek Vase Painting: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XXIX_ 323 173. The Castle of Circe. Sicilian Vase Painting: _Baumeister 2, 839_ 325 174. Ulysses and the Sirens. Greek Vase Painting in the British Museum: _P. Gardner, Grammar of Greek Art, p. 227, Fig. 78_ 329 175. Ulysses and Scylla. Etruscan Relief: _Baumeister 3, 1762_ 330 176. Penelope at the Loom, and Telemachus. Greek Vase Painting in Museum, Chiusi: _Harrison-Maccoll, Plate XLI_ 339 177. Ulysses recognized by Euryclea (behind him Eumæus). Ancient Terra Cotta Relief: _Baumeister 2, 1257_ 341 178, 179. Ulysses kills the Suitors. Greek Vase Painting, Berlin: _Baumeister 3, 2139_ 342, 343 It will be seen that the suitors are defending themselves. 180. The Nike (Victory) of Samothrace. Greek Statue in the Louvre: _Von Mach, Greek Sculpture, Plate facing p. 30_ 345 181. Æneas, Anchises, and Iulus. Ancient Gem, Uffizi, Florence 347 182. Scylla (carved end of ancient table). _Chefs d'[OE]uvres de l'Art Antique_, Paris, 1867 349 183. The Cumæan Sibyl. Painting by Michelangelo in the Vatican: _Photograph_ 353 184. Ixion on the wheel. Ancient Vase Painting, Berlin: _Baumeister 1, Fig. 821_ 358 Below, right: Vulcan looking at his handiwork; a Fury and Hermes. Above: winged forms, perhaps the Hours, to see that the motion is perpetual. One is even now shoving the wheel; the other has just taken off her hand to point "your turn." 185. Amazon. Ancient Marble Statue: _Guhl and Koner_ 364 186. Valkyrie bearing a Hero to Valhalla. Painting by Dielitz: _Photograph_ 375 187. Loki and Siguna. Painting by Gebhardt: _Photograph_ 393 188. Gunther and Brunhild. Fresco by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld: _Photograph_ 406 189. Siegfried and Kriemhild. Fresco by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld: _Photograph_ 407 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS PAGE Lemnian Athena Frontispiece Statue, possibly after Phidias, reconstructed by Furtwängler from torso in Dresden and head in Bologna: _Photograph_. Hera of the Vatican 22 Ancient Marble in the Vatican: _Photograph_. Venus (Aphrodite) of Melos 32 Greek Marble in the Louvre: _Photograph_. Greece in the Fifth Century B.C. 64 The Farnese Bull Group: Amphion, Zethus, Dirce, and Antiope 74 Ancient Marble in Naples: _E. von Mach, Handbook, Fig. 44_. Apollo and Daphne 112 Marble Group by Bernini, Villa Borghese, Rome: _Photograph_. Aphrodite (Petworth Head) 126 Ancient Marble in London: _Furtwängler, Masterpieces, Plate XVII_. Eros with Bow 136 Ancient Marble in the Capitoline Museum: _Baumeister 1, 539_. Hermes of Praxiteles 150 Greek Marble in Olympia: _Photograph_. Perseus freeing Andromeda 212 Ancient Relief in the Capitoline Museum: _Roscher 2, 346_. The Wedding of Hercules and Hebe 226 Ancient Apulian Vase Painting in Berlin: _Baumeister 1, 700_. Amazon 306 Ancient Marble in Lansdowne House: _Photograph_. Laocoön 310 Greek Marble in the Vatican: _Photograph_. The Outer Geography of the Odyssey 318 Flying Mercury 330 Statue by Giovanni di Bologna in Florence: _Photograph_. Italy before the Growth of the Roman Empire 346 The Victory (Nike) of Brescia 372 Ancient Bronze Statue: _E. von Mach, Greek Sculpture, Plate XXXV, No. 4_. INTRODUCTION THE STUDY OF MYTHOLOGY IN CONNECTION WITH ENGLISH POETRY AND WITH ART Our American educational methods too frequently seek to produce the effect of polish upon a kind of sandstone information that will not stand polishing. With such fatuity many of our teachers in the secondary schools exercise their pupils in the study of English masterpieces and in the critical estimate of æsthetic qualities before acquainting them with the commonplace facts and fables that, transmitted through generations, are the material of much of our poetry because the material of daily converse, imagination, and thought. These commonplaces of tradition are to be found largely in the literature of mythology. Of course the evil would be neither so widespread nor so dangerous if more of the guardians and instructors of our youth were at home even among the Greek and Latin classics. But for various reasons,--some valid, as, for instance, the importance of increased attention to the modern languages and the natural sciences; others worthless, as the so-called utilitarian protest against the cultivation of "dead" languages,--for various reasons the study of the classics is at present considerably impaired. It is, therefore, incumbent upon our universities and schools, recognizing this fact and deploring it, to abate so far as possible the unfortunate consequences that proceed therefrom, until, by a readjustment of subjects of instruction and of the periods allotted them, the Greek and Latin classics shall be reinstated in their proper place as a means of discipline, a humanizing influence, the historic background against which our present appears. For, cut off from the intellectual and imaginative sources of Greece and Rome, the state and statesmanship, legislation and law, society and manners, philosophy, religion, literature, art, and even artistic appreciation, run readily shallow and soon dry. Now, one evident means of tempering the consequence of this neglect of the classics is the study of them through translations and summaries. Such secondhand study must indeed be ever a makeshift; for the literature of a people inheres in its language, and loses its seeming and often its characteristic when caparisoned in the trappings of another speech,--an utterance totally dissimilar, the outcome of diverse conditions of physical environment, history, social and intellectual tradition. But in dealing with the purely imaginative products of antiquity, the inefficacy of translation may be somewhat offset if those products be reproduced, so far as possible, not in the prosaic but in the poetic atmosphere and in the imaginative garb of art. For though the phenomena of plastic art are not the same in one continent as in another, or from one century to the next, and though the fashion of poetry itself varies from age to age and from clime to clime, the genesis of imagination is universal, its products are akin, and its process is continuous. For this reason the study of the imaginative thought of the ancients through the artistic creations of the moderns is commended to students and readers as feasible and profitable. The study of the classic myths stimulates to creative production, prepares for the appreciation of poetry and other kinds of art, and furnishes a clew to the spiritual development of the race. 1. Classic mythology has been for succeeding poetry, sculpture, and painting, a treasure house replete with golden tales and glimmering thoughts, passions in the rough and smooth, and fancies rich bejeweled. Like Virgil's Shadows that flit by the Lethean stream until at beck of Fate they revisit upper day and the ever-tranquil stars, these ghosts of "far-off things and battles long ago," peopling the murmurous glades of myth, await the artist who shall bestow on each his new and predetermined form and restore them, purified and breathing of Elysian air, to the world of life and ever-young mankind. 2. For the reader the study of mythology does, in this respect, as much as for poet, sculptor, or painter. It assists him to thrid the labyrinth of art, not merely with the clew of tradition, but with a thread of surer knowledge whose surest strand is sympathy. The knowledge of mythic lore has led men in the past broadly to appreciate the motives and conditions of ancient art and literature, and the uniform and ordered evolution of the æsthetic sense. And, beside enriching us with heirlooms of fiction and pointing us to the sources of imaginative joy from which early poets of Hellenic verse, or Norse, or English, drank, the classic myths quicken the imaginative and emotional faculties to-day, just as of old. How many a man held by the sorrows of the Labdacidæ or the love of Alcestis, by some curious wonder in Pausanias, or some woe in Hyginus, has waked to the consciousness of artistic fancy and creative force within himself! How many, indifferent to the well-known round, the trivial task, the nearest care of home, have read the Farewell to Andromache and lived a new sympathy, an unselfish thrill, a purified delight! And not only as an impulse toward artistic output, or patriotic devotion, or domestic altruism, but as a restraining influence, a chastener of æsthetic excess, a moderator of the "unchartered freedom" that knows no mean between idolatry and loathing, of the foolish frenzy that affects new things, abnormal and sensational, in literature, music, and the plastic arts,--as such a tutor and governor is the study of beautiful myths invaluable. Long familiarity with the sweet simplicity, the orderly restraint, the severe regard, the filial awe that pervade the myths of Greece and Rome,--or with the newness of life and fullness and wonder of it, the naïveté and the romance, of Eddic lore,--cannot but graciously temper our modern estimate of artistic worth. The study, when illustrated by masterpieces of literature and art, should lead to the appreciation of concrete artistic productions of both these kinds. It goes without saying that a rational series of somewhat consecutive stories is more serviceable to the reader than a congeries of data acquired by spasmodic consultation of the classical dictionary,--a mass of information bolted, as it were, but by no means digested. If, moreover, these stories are narrated in genealogical and realistic sequence and are illustrated by lyric, narrative, and descriptive passages of modern literature, there is furnished not only that material of allusion and reference for which the student nowadays trusts to meager and disjointed textbook notes, but a potentiality that should render the general reading of _belles-lettres_ more profitable. For a previous acquaintance with the material of literary tradition heightens the appreciation of each allusive passage as it is encountered; it enables the reader to sympathize with the mood and to enter into the purpose of the poet, the essayist, the novelist, the orator; it expands the intellectual lungs for the atmosphere breathed by the artist, at any rate for a literary and social atmosphere less asthmatic than that to which so many of us are unconsciously habituated. Of course all this advantage would far better result from the first-hand nutriment and discipline of the Greek and Latin classics; of course direct familiarity with the writers of Greece and Rome is the _sine qua non_ of level-headed criticism and broad evaluation of modern literature; and, of course, a sympathy with the imaginings of old is the best incentive to an æsthetic estimate not only of art but of nature to-day; but if our American pupils and many of their teachers cannot quaff Massic and Falernian, they do well to scent the bouquet. In time a sense of flavor may perchance be stimulated, and ultimately a desire for nearer acquaintance with the literatures that we inherit. The study of these ancient tales serves, then, much more than the purpose of special information. It refines the æsthetic judgment in general, and heightens the enjoyment of such works of literature as, not treating of mythical or classical subjects, still possess the characteristics of the classic: the unconscious simplicity, the inevitable charm, and the noble ideality. The Lycidas, the Adonais, the Thyrsis, the In Memoriam, the Ode to Duty, the Bothie of Tober-na-Vuolich, the Hymn of Man, Love is Enough, Prospice, Festus, the Ode of Life, the Dream of Gerontius, Lying in the Grass, and Simmenthal must mean little to one devoid of the spirit of classicism. In respect of art a similar inspiration, aid, instruction, are afforded by the study. This volume is liberally supplied with cuts of famous paintings and sculptures of mythical subjects. Familiarity with specimens of ancient art, even through the medium of photography and engraving, must not only cultivate the historic sense but stimulate the æsthetic. The cruder efforts of the ancients, no less than the more refined, are windows through which we view the ancient mind. The frequent contemplation of their nobler efforts and of the modern masterpieces here reproduced may avail to lift some from the level of apathy or provinciality in matters of imagination; some it may spur to a study of the originals, some to artistic creation. A public which, from year to year, displays a deeper interest in the art of foreign lands will despise no auxiliary to a more intelligent appreciation of that art. A country whose future in artistic achievement cannot be prophesied in a paragraph will more and more truly recognize the value of a study that is an introduction to much that is best in art as it exists. 3. Furthermore, it must be borne in mind that the myths of the ancients, as the earliest literary crystallization of social order and religious fear, record the incipient history of religious ideals and of moral conduct. For though ethnologists may insist that to search for truth _in_ mythology is vain, the best of them will grant that to search for truth _through_ mythology is wise and profitable. If we accept the statement (often stretched beyond its proper limit) that mythology is primitive philosophy, and the other statement that an ancient philosophy never dies, but by process of internal growth, of modification, and of accretion acquires a purer spirit and a new and higher form,--then, since truth was never yet conceived of error (_ex nihilo nihil fit_), the truth now recognized, while it did not exist in that fraction of myth which happens to be irrational, existed as an archetypal impulse,--set the myth in motion, and, as a process refining the mind of man, tended steadily to eliminate from primitive philosophy (that is, from the myths that embodied primitive philosophy) the savage, ephemeral, and irrational element. For all myths spring from the universal and inalienable desire to know, to enjoy, to teach. These impulses of knowledge, of imaginative relaxation, of conduct, are the throbbing of the heart of reason; the first or the second is the primal pulse of every myth, and to the life of every myth each impulse may be, at some period, contributory. This study has led men to trace soberly the progress of their kind from the twilight of gray conjecture to the dawn of spiritual conviction and rational individuality; to discern a continuity of thought, an outward reach of imagination, an upward lift of moral and religious ideas; to confess the brotherhood of humanity and an inspiring purpose which holds good for every race and through all time. SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS 1. _Of the Classic Myths in their Relation to Literature._ It is essential that the teacher of mythology, no matter what textbook or system he uses or what classic epic he proposes to present, should first make himself acquainted with the meaning of myth, its origin and elements; the difference between myth and fable, between myths explanatory and myths æsthetic, myths reasonable and myths unreasonable, the theories of myth-making as a process of deterioration or as a process of development. He should also inform himself concerning the ways in which the leading myths have been disseminated, and how the survivors have been preserved. Materials for this preparation he will find in Chapters XXX-XXXII of this book as readily, perhaps, as elsewhere; but no matter where he obtains this information he should in a simple and interesting talk pass on the cream of it to the pupils about to begin the study of the stories themselves. He will in that way bring them to a reasonable appreciation of the value of myths and their relation to our civilization, and awaken in them anticipatory interest in the proposed reading. It is a great mistake to plunge students of high-school age, without preliminary orientation and a justification of the study, into a world which may otherwise appear to them unreasonable in conception and unrelated in experience. Pupils may, if time permits, read these concluding chapters, and so obtain a systematic outlook upon the subject, during a brief review in the senior year, but not earlier. This book should be studied for its materials and the inspiration that it affords,--not word by word for its style, or as a dictionary or scientific authority; nor paragraph by paragraph with a painful committing to memory of each myth and each episode in the myth. Discrimination must be made. Some of these myths, and especially the episodes from the epics (Chapters XXII-XXIX), are to be read rapidly and in large assignments, sometimes at home with reports in class, sometimes in class and at sight, but always for the enjoyment. Others are to be studied in detail, but solely when they are of special and vital significance, historically, morally, or æsthetically. Emphasis should be laid only occasionally and sparingly upon interpretations of mythical materials. What both teacher and student should aim at is the picture--manners, morals, ideals, heroic figures, epic events, broad and vivid against the canvas of antiquity: that, and the reality of classic order, grandeur, and restraint. The myths are here presented in a logical and genealogical arrangement; and they should be studied in this order, so that the pupil may carry away, not a jumble of sporadic recollections, but some conception of the systems of creative imagination which obtained in earlier civilizations. The knowledge of the myths and the proper perspective of their relation, one to another, may further be fixed by the study of the family ties that motivate many of the incidents of mythical adventure, and that must have been commonplaces of information to the inventors and narrators of these stories. The myths may well be reproduced as exercises in narration, comparison, description; and they may be regarded as stimulus for imaginative invention concerning local wonders and beauties of nature. Pupils may also be encouraged to consider, and to comment upon, the moral qualities of the heroes and heroines of mythology. Thus they may be led to recognize the difference between ancient and modern standards of right and wrong. To this end, and for the supply of further nutriment, it is important that teachers collect from their reading of the classic originals, or from translations of the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Greek dramatists, the Æneid, the Metamorphoses, etc., material supplementary to the text, and give it freely to their classes. To facilitate this practice the sources of the myths have been indicated in the footnotes of this volume, and a few of the best translations have been mentioned in the Commentary. Instructors should also read to the classes illustrative English poems, or portions of them based upon the myths under consideration; and they should encourage the pupils to collect from their English reading additional examples of the literary survival or adaptation of ancient story. For this purpose special sections of the Commentary have been prepared, indicating some of the best known literary applications of each myth. The Commentary is numbered in sections corresponding to those of the text. The Textual Notes should be studied in connection with each lesson, the Interpretative more sparingly, as I have said. They should not be suffered to spoil the interest in the stories as such. They are of interest in themselves only to maturer minds. Allusions and interpretations which the younger pupil does not appreciate will, if the book is used for purposes of reference in his further English, Latin, or Greek studies, be clear before the end of his course. From the outset care should be taken that pupils give to the classical names their proper accent, and that they anglicize both vowels and consonants according to the recognized rules laid down in the Latin grammars, the English dictionaries, and the pages preceding the Index of this book. Mythological and classical geography should not be neglected. The maps accompanying this volume will be serviceable; but there should be in the classroom one of Kiepert's maps of the World as Known to the Ancients (Orbis Veteribus Notus), or maps of Ancient Italy, Greece, and Asia Minor. The teacher will find the International Atlas (G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York), A. Keith Johnston's School and College Atlas of Ancient Geography, or the new edition of the same by James Cranstoun, issued as Ginn and Company's Classical Atlas, indispensable in the prosecution of general reading. When it is the intention to study, in connection with the book, an Homeric epic or a portion of it, the teacher should first make sure that the class has an adequate preliminary training in general mythology (such, for instance, as may be provided by the first twenty-one chapters); he should then outline rapidly and entertainingly the epic as a whole, emphasizing its position in the literature of the world and its relation to the world of its own times, before proceeding to read it in detail with the class. Excellent suggestions as to this method of study are offered in the Introduction to Maxwell & Chubb's Pope's Homer's Iliad, Books I, VI, XXII, and XXIV (Longmans), and in the Introduction to the Riverside Edition of the Odyssey: Ulysses among the Phæacians (Houghton Mifflin Company). The more important myths and the best illustrative poems should provide not only nutriment for thought, but material for memory. Our youth in the push for hasty achievement bolt their meals; they masticate little, swallow everything, digest nothing,--and having agonized, forget. If fewer things were dispatched, especially in the study of literature, and if more were intrusted to the memory, there would be something to assimilate and time to assimilate it; there would be less dyspepsia and more muscle. Teachers and parents are over-considerate, nowadays, of the memory in children: they approach it gingerly; they have feared so much to wring its withers that in most children the memory has grown too soft for saddling. In our apprehension lest pupils may turn out parrots, we have too often turned them out loons. It is better that a few of the facts in their heads be wrong than that no facts be there at all. With all our study of children and our gabble about methods of teaching them, while we insist, properly enough, that youth is the seedtime of observation, we seem to have forgotten that it is also the harvest-time of memory. It is easy for children to remember what they learn, it is a delight for them to commit to memory; we act criminally when we send them forth with hardly a fact or a date or a glorious verse in the memory of one out of ten of them. Such, unfortunately, is the case in many of our schools; and such was not the case in the day of our fathers. Pupils should be encouraged to recite _memoriter_ the best poems and verses that accompany the myths here given; and they should not be allowed to pass allusions already explained without recalling verses that contain them. But above all things should be cultivated, by means of this study, the spiritual capabilities of our youth. _Pabulum_ for thought, accurate habits of memory, critical judgment, simplicity and directness of oral and written expression, may all be furnished or developed by other educative agencies; but what stimulus to fancy, to poetic sensitiveness and reflection, to a near kinship with the spirit of nature humanized, can be found more cogent than the contemplation of the poetic traditions that abide in verse? Mythology, fraught with the fire of imagination, kindles the present from the past. In this new world of ours, shall slopes and mountains, gorges, cañons, flowery fields and forests, rivers, bays, Titanic lakes, and shoreless reach of ocean be seen of eyes that lack insight, be known of men for whom nature does not live? Surely the age of myth is not wholly past; surely the beauties and the wonders of nature are a fable of things never fully revealed; surely this new republic of ours, no less than her prototypes by Tyrrhenian and Ægean seas, utters, in her queenly form and flowing robes, a spirit, a truth, a potential poetry, and a beauty of art, the grace of which we Americans, with deeper imaginative training and sympathy and awe, may yet more highly value and more clearly comprehend. 2. _Of the Classic Myths in their Relation to Art._[1] The illustration of a book on ancient mythology offers great difficulties, because the modern reader expects one thing and the ancient artist, on whose works one must rely, intentionally offers a very different thing. We have grown to be a reading people, forming our ideas largely on the written word, while in antiquity the spoken word opened the door to understanding. A story which has been committed to writing is fixed for all time, having lost its power of growth; whereas a tale that passes from mouth to mouth, with no record by which to check its accuracy in particulars, is free to expand. It changes with the moods of those who tell it, and the intellectual and moral standards of those who listen. People to-day are unimaginative and literal. They also expect that the pictures which illustrate their books shall follow the individual conceptions of the author closely. When the story is dramatized a certain latitude is granted to the actor; the artist, however, who illustrates the book has no such freedom. He is expected to take precisely the author's view of a fictitious character, and, consequently, his individuality may show itself only in the technique. In antiquity there were no standard books of fiction or of myths. When writing came into use with the sixth century before Christ, the individual versions of this or that great epic poem or drama were preserved; but the great mass of the people knew them, not because they had read the manuscripts, but because they had heard them acted or recited. Book illustrations, therefore, were unknown. Yet so powerful was the impression which the myths made on the people that most of the artists drew their inspiration from them. Artists and poets alike wished to make real the powerful characters of Greek tradition. To make a literally true illustration of any one version of a great myth was not the aim of a classic artist. Another difficulty is found in the fact that few ancient myths continued to be equally interesting to the people all the time. It is therefore necessary for us, in choosing illustrations, to draw on all periods of ancient art, the crude beginning and the decline as well as the brief span of fine art. The comparatively meager store of genuinely classic works of art acts as one of the greatest obstacles to the compilation of a continuous record of classic myths in classic art. To give such a record, however, rather than to _illustrate_ his book, must be the aim of the author who publishes to-day a version of ancient mythology together with such pictures or reliefs or statues as are preserved. The modern reader of such a book should therefore appreciate this fact: he must make allowance for the gradual development of ancient art. The picture is not there for the sake of strengthening the written work, but for its own sake. It often offers an independent version of the myth which he reads, and at all times may give him an insight into the mental make-up of the classic people. Sculpture was the finest art of the Greeks, if one may judge by the remains. In this province the artists worked according to the best principles of art, making their appeal directly to the nobler side of man. Before an ancient statue one feels the power of an idea immediately, and not by the circuitous route of remembering a sequence of words which may have aimed to suggest a similar idea. The Greeks were the least literal in their sculpture. Their marbles, therefore, cannot yield _illustrations_ which the modern editor can use, except when they embody, like the Demeter of Knidos (Fig. 29) or the Athena of Velletri (Fig. 10), a well-defined character-conception. The modern reader, on the other hand, cannot fail to notice that this conception never does justice to the character of the goddess as it appears in all the myths, and very rarely even to that characteristic which may dominate the particular version of any one myth. If such pictures, however, were entirely omitted from the book, the best means of appreciating the essential nobility of the Greek mind would be lost. None of the Greek masterpieces of painting are extant. Their attenuated influence, however, may be traced in the Italian wall paintings from Pompeii and elsewhere. Painting permits greater literalness than sculpture. The picture from Herculaneum, for instance,--Io, Argus, and Mercury (Fig. 47),--tells a definite story and one which is also told by the poets. But the painter has considered the making of a pleasing picture first, and given only a secondary thought to accuracy of tradition. This must be so; for while we may without displeasure listen to the description of a monster, we cannot see his actual representation without discomfort. When we hear how the companions of Ulysses were turned into swine, the tragic note is never lost. To paint this scene, however, and not to border on the ridiculous or the burlesque is given only to the greatest artist--if it is at all possible. Fortunately for our purposes of illustration, there was a class of secondary artists in Greece which did not always shrink from selecting subjects ill adapted for art, and from rendering them with slight variations so that they are neither bad to look at nor altogether untrue. These were the painters of vases. Some of them were masters of their craft (cf. Fig. 116), others were of only mediocre skill. All, however, like their nobler brethren, were primarily concerned with the decorative and technical side of their art and but secondarily with their subject. If the story, for instance, called for four persons and their space for five, they unhesitatingly added the fifth person, and, vice versa, removed one without compunction if they had place for fewer figures than the story demanded. Being, moreover, commercial people, they painted according to fashion. Whatever version of a myth happened to be popular, that they selected, so that it has been possible to trace by their vases the changes which several myths underwent from the sixth century onward. A careful student notices the similarity of types in many of these pictures and realizes that the ancient painter of vases started out with a certain stock-in-trade which he altered as little as possible, adding something new only where it was absolutely necessary. From these observations it is clear that the works of men who were least gifted artistically are the best adapted for the purposes of book illustrations; for a painter is literal in the inverse ratio of his worth as artist. Nothing, therefore, could be less fair than to judge Greek vase painting by the collection of pictures here offered. Only paintings like Figures 85 and 101, for instance, can give a hint of the best that these men produced. Going gradually down the scale of artists one finally comes to the level of the makers of Roman sarcophagi, in whose honor it can only be said that to descend lower is impossible. Several myths, however,--the story of the fall of Phaëthon (Fig. 59), for instance,--are not illustrated in art before the decadent period of imperial Roman sculpture. It is therefore necessary to draw also upon this source. Of course unity of art or school or excellence cannot be preserved in a set of pictures which groups the Demeter of Knidos (Fig. 29), the blinding of Polyphemus (Fig. 171), and the fall of Phaëthon (Fig. 59). But individually the pictures help to fix in memory the particular stories that they are chosen to illustrate; and collectively they show how strongly the myths here retold influenced the noblest fancy of the great artists as well as the receptive minds of mediocre artisans. The suggestive power of classic myths, moreover, was not confined to antiquity. When learning and culture returned to the world in the Renaissance, this power also returned. Raphael (see Fig. 12) and Michelangelo (see Fig. 183) were under its sway, and so are many modern artists (see Figs. 72 and 154). They did not all understand the classic spirit equally, therefore some of their pictures are modern in everything save the title, while others have caught the truth with singular accuracy and are modern only in technique. Adding these Italian and more recent pictures to the collection further destroys mere unity, but it insures, on the other hand, a full appreciation of the abiding and ennobling power of ancient mythology. FOOTNOTES: [1] See Preface. THE CLASSIC MYTHS PART I MYTHS OF DIVINITIES AND HEROES CHAPTER I GREEK MYTHS OF THE CREATION =1. Purpose of the Study.= Interwoven with the fabric of our English literature, of our epics, dramas, lyrics, and novels, of our essays and orations, like a golden warp where the woof is only too often of silver, are the myths of certain ancient nations. It is the purpose of this work to relate some of these myths, and to illustrate the uses to which they have been put in English literature, and, incidentally, in art. =2. The Fable and the Myth.= Careful discrimination must be made between the fable and the myth. A fable is a story, like that of King Log, or the Fox and the Grapes, in which characters and plot, neither pretending to reality nor demanding credence, are fabricated confessedly as the vehicle of moral or didactic instruction. Dr. Johnson narrows still further the scope of the fable: "It seems to be, in its genuine state, a narrative in which _beings_ _irrational, and sometimes inanimate_, are, for the purpose of moral instruction, feigned to act and speak with human interests and passions." Myths, on the other hand, are stories of anonymous origin, prevalent among primitive peoples and by them accepted as true, concerning supernatural beings and events, or natural beings and events influenced by supernatural agencies. Fables are made by individuals; they may be told in any stage of a nation's history,--by a Jotham when the Israelites were still under the Judges, 1200 years before Christ, or by Christ himself in the days of the most critical Jewish scholarship; by a Menenius when Rome was still involved in petty squabbles of plebeians and patricians, or by Phædrus and Horace in the Augustan age of Roman imperialism and Roman letters; by an Æsop, well-nigh fabulous, to fabled fellow-slaves and Athenian tyrants, or by La Fontaine to the Grand Monarch and the most highly civilized race of seventeenth-century Europe. Fables are vessels made to order into which a lesson may be poured. Myths are born, not made. They are born in the infancy of a people. They owe their features not to any one historic individual, but to the imaginative efforts of generations of story-tellers. The myth of Pandora, the first woman, endowed by the immortals with heavenly graces, and of Prometheus, who stole fire from heaven for the use of man; the myth of the earthborn giants that in the beginning contested with the gods the sovereignty of the universe; of the moon-goddess who, with her buskined nymphs, pursues the chase across the azure of the heavens, or descending to earth cherishes the youth Endymion,--these myths, germinating in some quaint and childish interpretation of natural events or in some fireside fancy, have put forth unconsciously, under the nurture of the simple folk that conceived and tended them, luxuriant branches and leaves of narrative, and blossoms of poetic comeliness and form. The myths that we shall relate present wonderful accounts of the creation, histories of numerous divine beings, adventures of heroes in which magical and ghostly agencies play a part, and where animals and inanimate nature don the attributes of men and gods. Many of these myths treat of divinities once worshiped by the Greeks and the Romans, and by our Norse and German forefathers in the dark ages. Myths, more or less like these, may be found in the literatures of nearly all nations; many are in the memories and mouths of savage races at this time existent. But the stories here narrated are no longer believed by any one. The so-called divinities of Olympus and of Asgard have not a single worshiper among men. They dwell only in the realm of memory and imagination; they are enthroned in the palace of art. The stories of Greek, Roman, Norse, and German mythology that have most influenced our English literature will follow in the order named. The Romans, being by nature a practical, not a poetic, people, incorporated in their literature the mythology of the Greeks. We shall, however, append to our description of the Greek gods a brief account of the native Latin divinities that retained an individuality in Roman literature. [Illustration: FIG. 1. JUPITER SURVEYING THE WORLD] =3. Origin of the World.=[2] There were among the Greeks several accounts of the beginning of things. Homer tells us that River Ocean, a deep and mighty flood, encircling land and sea like a serpent with its tail in its mouth, was the source of all. According to other myths Night and Darkness were the prime elements of Nature, and from them sprang Light. Still a third theory, attributed to Orpheus, asserts that Time was in the beginning, but had himself no beginning; that from him proceeded Chaos, a yawning abyss wherein brooded Night and Mist and fiery air, or Æther; that Time caused the mist to spin round the central fiery air till the mass, assuming the form of a huge world egg, flew, by reason of its rapid rotation, into halves. Of these, one was Heaven, the other Earth. From the center of the egg proceeded Eros (Love) and other wondrous beings. But the most consistent account of the origin of the world and of the gods is given by the poet Hesiod, who tells us that Chaos, the yawning abyss, composed of Void, Mass, and Darkness in confusion, preceded all things else. Next came into being broad-bosomed Earth, and beautiful Love who should rule the hearts of gods and men. But from Chaos itself issued Erebus,[3] the mysterious darkness that is under Earth,--and Night, dwelling in the remote regions of sunset. From Mother Earth proceeded first the starry vault of Heaven, durable as brass or iron, where the gods were to take up their abode. Earth brought forth next the mountains and fertile fields, the stony plains, the sea, and the plants and animals that possess them. =4. Origin of the Gods.= So far we have a history of the throes and changes of the physical world; now begins the history of gods and of men. For in the heart of creation Love begins to stir, making of material things creatures male and female, and bringing them together by instinctive affinity. First Erebus and Night, the children of Chaos, are wedded, and from them spring Light and Day; then _Uranus_, the personified Heaven, takes _Gæa_, the Earth, to wife, and from their union issue Titans and hundred-handed monsters and Cyclopes. The _Titans_[4] appear to be the personification of mighty convulsions of the physical world, of volcanic eruptions and earthquakes. They played a quarrelsome part in mythical history; they were instigators of hatred and strife. Homer mentions specially two of them, Iapetus and Cronus; but Hesiod enumerates thirteen. Of these, the more important are Oceanus and Tethys, Hyperion and Thea, Cronus and Rhea, Iapetus, Themis, and Mnemosyne. The three _Cyclopes_ represented the terrors of rolling thunder, of the lightning-flash, and of the thunderbolt; and, probably, for this reason, one fiery eye was deemed enough for each. The hundred-handed monsters, or _Hecatonchires_, were also three in number. In them, probably, the Greeks imaged the sea with its multitudinous waves, its roar, and its breakers that seem to shake the earth. These lightning-eyed, these hundred-handed monsters, their father Uranus feared, and attempted to destroy by thrusting them into Tartarus, the profound abysm of the earth. Whereupon Mother Earth, or Gæa, indignant, called for help upon her elder children, the Titans. None dared espouse her cause save Cronus, the crafty. With an iron sickle he lay in wait for his sire, fell upon him, and drove him, grievously wounded, from the encounter. From the blood of the mutilated Uranus leaped into being the Furies, whose heads writhe with serpents; the Giants, a novel race of monsters; and the Melic Nymphs, invidious maidens of the ashen spear. =5. The Rule of Cronus.= Now follows the reign of Cronus, lord of Heaven and Earth. He is, from the beginning, of incalculable years. In works of art his head is veiled, to typify his cunning and his reserve; he bears the sickle not only as memento of the means by which he brought his father's tyranny to end, but as symbol of the new period of growth and golden harvests that he ushered in. For unknown ages Cronus and Rhea, his sister-queen, governed Heaven and Earth. To them were born three daughters, Vesta, Ceres, and Juno, and three sons, Pluto, Neptune, and Jupiter. Cronus, however, having learned from his parents that he should be dethroned by one of his own children, conceived the well-intentioned but ill-considered device of swallowing each as it was born. His queen, naturally desirous of discouraging the practice,--when it came to the turn of her sixth child, palmed off on the insatiable Cronus a stone carefully enveloped in swaddling clothes. Jupiter (or Zeus), the rescued infant, was concealed in the island of Crete, where, nurtured by the nymphs Adrastea and Ida, and fed on the milk of the goat Amalthea, he in due season attained maturity. Then, assisted by his grandmother Gæa, he constrained Cronus to disgorge the burden of his cannibal repasts. First came to light the memorable stone, which was placed in safe keeping at Delphi; then the five brothers and sisters of Jupiter, ardent to avenge themselves upon the unnatural author of their existence and their captivity. =6. The War of the Titans.= In the war which ensued Iapetus and all the Titans, except Oceanus, ranged themselves on the side of their brother Cronus against Jupiter and his recently recovered kinsfolk. Jupiter and his hosts held Mount Olympus. For ages victory wavered in the balance. Finally Jupiter, acting again under the advice of Gæa, released from Tartarus, where Uranus had confined them, the Cyclopes and the Hecatonchires. Instantly they hastened to the battle-field of Thessaly, the Cyclopes to support Jupiter with their thunders and lightnings, the hundred-handed monsters with the shock of the earthquake. Provided with such artillery, shaking earth and sea, Jupiter issued to the onslaught. With the gleam of the lightning the Titans were blinded, by the earthquake they were laid low, with the flames they were well-nigh consumed: overpowered and fettered by the hands of the Hecatonchires, they were consigned to the yawning cave of Tartarus. Atlas, the son of Iapetus, was doomed to bear the heavens on his shoulders. But a more famous son of the same Titan, Prometheus, who had espoused the cause of Jove, acquired dignity hereafter to be set forth. =7. The Division of Empire.= In the council of the gods that succeeded, Jupiter was chosen Sovereign of the World. He delegated to his brother Neptune (or Poseidon) the kingdom of the sea and of all the waters; to his brother Pluto (or Hades), the government of the underworld, dark, unseen, mysterious, where the spirits of the dead should dwell, and of Tartarus, wherein were held the fallen Titans. For himself Jupiter retained Earth and the Heaven, into whose broad and sunny regions towered Olympus, the favored mountain of the greater gods.[5] =8. The Reign of Jupiter.= New conflicts, however, awaited this new dynasty of Heaven--conflicts, the subject of many a tale among the ancients. Gæa, though she had aided her grandson Jupiter in the war against Cronus, was soon seized with compunctions of conscience; and contemplating the cruel fate of her sons the Titans, she conceived schemes of vengeance upon their conqueror. Another son was born to her--_Typhon_, a monster more awful than his predecessors--whose destiny it was to dispute the sway of the almighty Zeus. From the neck of Typhon dispread themselves a hundred dragon-heads; his eyes shot fire, and from his black-tongued chaps proceeded the hissing of snakes, the bellowing of bulls, the roaring of lions, the barking of dogs, pipings and screams, and, at times, the voice and utterance of the gods themselves. Against Heaven this horror lifted himself; but quailing before the thunderbolt of Jove, he too descended to Tartarus, his own place and the abode of his brethren. To this day, however, he grumbles and hisses, thrusts upward a fiery tongue through the crater of a volcano, or, breathing siroccos, scorches trees and men. [Illustration: FIG. 2. ATHENA AND GIANT] Later still, the _Giants_, offspring of the blood that fell from the wounded Uranus, renewed the revolt against the Olympian gods. They were creatures nearer akin to men than were the Titans, or the Cyclopes, or Typhon. They clothed themselves in the skins of beasts, and armed themselves with rocks and trunks of trees. Their bodies and lower limbs were of snakes. They were awful to encounter or to look upon. They were named, like men, the _earthborn_; and their characteristics would suggest some prehistoric brutish race, hotheaded, not amenable to reason.[6] Of the Giants, the more mighty were Alcyoneus of the winter storms and icebergs, Pallas, and Enceladus, and Porphyrion the fire-king,--leader of the crew. In the war against them, Juno and Minerva, divinities of the new dynasty of Heaven, took active part,--and Hercules, an earthly son of Jupiter, whose arrows aided in their defeat. It was from the overthrow of Pallas that Athena (or Minerva) derived, according to certain records, her proud designation of Pallas-Athena.[7] In due course, like the Titans and Typhon, the Giants were buried in the abyss of eternal darkness. What other outcome can be expected when mere physical or brute force joins issue with the enlightened and embattled hosts of heaven? [Illustration: FIG. 3. ZEUS AND GIANTS] =9. The Origin of Man= was a question which the Greeks did not settle so easily as the Hebrews. Greek traditions do not trace all mankind to an original pair. On the contrary, the generally received opinion was that men grew out of trees and stones, or were produced by the rivers or the sea. Some said that men and gods were both derived from Mother Earth, hence both _autochthonous_; and some, indeed, claimed an antiquity for the human race equal to that of the divinities. All narratives, however, agree in one statement,--that the gods maintained intimate relations with men until, because of the growing sinfulness and arrogance of mankind, it became necessary for the immortals to withdraw their favor. =10. Prometheus, a Creator.= There is a story which attributes the making of man to Prometheus, whose father Iapetus had, with Cronus, opposed the sovereignty of Jupiter. In that conflict, Prometheus, gifted with prophetic wisdom, had adopted the cause of the Olympian deities. To him and his brother Epimetheus was now committed the office of making man and providing him and all other animals with the faculties necessary for their preservation. Prometheus was to overlook the work of Epimetheus. Epimetheus proceeded to bestow upon the different animals the various gifts of courage, strength, swiftness, sagacity; wings to one, claws to another, a shelly covering to a third. But Prometheus himself made a nobler animal than these. Taking some earth and kneading it with water, he made man in the image of the gods. He gave him an upright stature, so that while other animals turn their faces toward the earth, man gazes on the stars. Then since Epimetheus, always rash, and thoughtful when too late, had been so prodigal of his gifts to other animals that no blessing was left worth conferring upon the noblest of creatures, Prometheus ascended to heaven, lighted his torch at the chariot of the sun, and brought down fire. With fire in his possession man would be able to win her secrets and treasures from the earth, to develop commerce, science, and the arts. [Illustration: FIG. 4. PROMETHEUS MAKING MAN] =11. The Age of Gold.= Whether in this or in other ways the world was furnished with inhabitants, the first age was an age of innocence and happiness. Truth and right prevailed, though not enforced by law, nor was there any in authority to threaten or to punish. The forest had not yet been robbed of its trees to yield timbers for vessels, nor had men built fortifications round their towns. There were no such things as swords, spears, or helmets. The earth brought forth all things necessary for man, without his labor in plowing or sowing. Perpetual spring reigned, flowers sprang up without seed, the rivers flowed with milk and wine, and yellow honey distilled from the oaks. This Golden Age had begun in the reign of Cronus.[8] And when these heroes fell asleep in death, they were translated in a pleasant dream to a spiritual existence, in which, unseen by mortal eyes, they still attended men as monitors and guardians. =12. The Silver Age= came next, inferior to the golden. Jupiter shortened the spring, and divided the year into seasons. Then, first, men suffered the extremes of heat and cold, and houses became necessary. Caves were their dwellings,--and leafy coverts of the woods, and huts woven of twigs. Crops would no longer grow without planting. The farmer was constrained to sow the seed, and the ox to draw the plow. This was a race of manly men, but insolent and impious. And when they died, Jupiter made them ghosts of the underworld, but withheld the privilege of immortal life. =13. Prometheus, Champion of Man.= During this age when, as Hesiod says, the altars of the blessed were neglected, and the gods were denied their due, Prometheus stood forth--the champion of man against the Olympians.[9] For the son of Cronus had grudged mortals the use of fire, and was, in fact, contemplating their annihilation and the creation of a new race. Therefore, once upon a time, when gods and men were in dispute at Sicyon concerning the prerogatives of each, Prometheus, by an ingenious trick, attempted to settle the question in favor of man. Dividing into two portions a sacrificial bull, he wrapped all the eatable parts in the skin, cunningly surmounted with uninviting entrails; but the bones he garnished with a plausible mass of fat. He then offered Jupiter his choice. The king of Heaven, although he perceived the intended fraud, took the heap of bones and fat, and, forthwith availing himself of this insult as an excuse for punishing mankind, deprived the race of fire. But Prometheus regained the treasure, stealing it from Heaven in a hollow tube. =14. Pandora.= Doubly enraged, Jupiter, in his turn, had recourse to stratagem. He is declared to have planned for man a curse in the shape of woman. How the race had persisted hitherto without woman is a mystery; but that it had done so, with no slight degree of happiness, the experience of the Golden Age would seem to prove. However, the bewitching evil was fashioned,--in Heaven, properly enough,--and every god and goddess contributed something to her perfection. One gave her beauty, another persuasive charm, a third the faculty of music. And they named her Pandora, "the gift of all the gods." Thus equipped, she was conveyed to earth and presented to Epimetheus, who, without hesitation, accepted the gift, though cautioned by his brother to beware of Jupiter and all his ways. And the caution was not groundless. In the hand of Pandora had been placed by the immortals a casket or vase which she was forbidden to open. Overcome by an unaccountable curiosity to know what this vessel contained, she one day lifted the cover and looked in. Forthwith there escaped a multitude of plagues for hapless man--gout, rheumatism, and colic for his body; envy, spite, and revenge for his mind--and scattered themselves far and wide. Pandora hastened to replace the lid; but one thing only remained in the casket, and that was _hope_. =15. Prometheus Bound.= Because of his unselfish devotion to the cause of humanity, Prometheus drew down on himself the anger of Olympian Jove, by whose order he was chained to a rock on Mount Caucasus, and subjected to the attack of an eagle (or a vulture) which, for ages, preyed upon his liver, yet succeeded not in consuming it. This state of torment might have been brought to an end at any time by Prometheus, if he had been willing to submit to his oppressor; for he possessed a secret which involved the stability of Jove's throne. This was that by a certain woman Jove would beget a son who should displace him and end the sway of the Olympians. The god naturally desired more accurate information of this decree of Fate. But to reveal the secret Prometheus disdained. In this steadfastness the Titan was supported by the knowledge that in the thirteenth generation there should arrive a hero,--sprung from Jove himself,--to release him.[10] And in fullness of time the hero did arrive: none other than the mighty Hercules desirous of rendering the highest service to mankind. No higher service, thinks this radiant and masterful personage,--who, as we shall see, had already cleared the world of many a monster,--remains to be performed than to free the champion of mankind, suffering through the ages because he had brought light into the world. "The soul of man," says Hercules to the Titan-- The soul of man can never be enslaved Save by its own infirmities, nor freed Save by its very strength and own resolve And constant vision and supreme endeavor! You will be free? Then, courage, O my brother! O let the soul stand in the open door Of life and death and knowledge and desire And see the peaks of thought kindle with sunrise! Then shall the soul return to rest no more, Nor harvest dreams in the dark field of sleep-- Rather the soul shall go with great resolve To dwell at last upon the shining mountains In liberal converse with the eternal stars.[11] And he kills the vulture; and sets Jove's victim free. By his demeanor Prometheus has become the ensample of magnanimous endurance, and of resistance to oppression. Titan! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise, What was thy pity's recompense? A silent suffering, and intense; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain, The agony they do not show, The suffocating sense of woe, Which speaks but in its loneliness, And then is jealous lest the sky Should have a listener, nor will sigh Until its voice is echoless.... Thy godlike crime was to be kind, To render with thy precepts less The sum of human wretchedness, And strengthen man with his own mind. But, baffled as thou wert from high, Still, in thy patient energy, In the endurance and repulse Of thine impenetrable spirit, Which earth and heaven could not convulse, A mighty lesson we inherit[12].... =16. Longfellow's Prometheus.= A happy application of the story of Prometheus is made by Longfellow in the following verses:[13] Of Prometheus, how undaunted On Olympus' shining bastions His audacious foot he planted, Myths are told, and songs are chanted, Full of promptings and suggestions. Beautiful is the tradition Of that flight through heavenly portals, The old classic superstition Of the theft and the transmission Of the fire of the Immortals! First the deed of noble daring, Born of heavenward aspiration, Then the fire with mortals sharing, Then the vulture,--the despairing Cry of pain on crags Caucasian. All is but a symbol painted Of the Poet, Prophet, Seer; Only those are crowned and sainted Who with grief have been acquainted, Making nations nobler, freer. In their feverish exultations, In their triumph and their yearning, In their passionate pulsations, In their words among the nations, The Promethean fire is burning. Shall it, then, be unavailing, All this toil for human culture? Through the cloud-rack, dark and trailing, Must they see above them sailing O'er life's barren crags the vulture? Such a fate as this was Dante's, By defeat and exile maddened; Thus were Milton and Cervantes, Nature's priests and Corybantes, By affliction touched and saddened. But the glories so transcendent That around their memories cluster, And, on all their steps attendant, Make their darkened lives resplendent With such gleams of inward lustre! All the melodies mysterious, Through the dreary darkness chanted; Thoughts in attitudes imperious, Voices soft, and deep, and serious, Words that whispered, songs that haunted! All the soul in rapt suspension, All the quivering, palpitating Chords of life in utmost tension, With the fervor of invention, With the rapture of creating! Ah, Prometheus! heaven-scaling! In such hours of exultation Even the faintest heart, unquailing, Might behold the vulture sailing Round the cloudy crags Caucasian! Though to all there is not given Strength for such sublime endeavor, Thus to scale the walls of heaven, And to leaven with fiery leaven All the hearts of men forever; Yet all bards, whose hearts unblighted Honor and believe the presage, Hold aloft their torches lighted, Gleaming through the realms benighted, As they onward bear the message! =17. The Brazen Age.= Next to the Age of Silver came that of brass,[14] more savage of temper and readier for the strife of arms, yet not altogether wicked. =18. The Iron Age.= Last came the hardest age and worst,--of iron. Crime burst in like a flood; modesty, truth, and honor fled. The gifts of the earth were put only to nefarious uses. Fraud, violence, war at home and abroad were rife. The world was wet with slaughter; and the gods, one by one, abandoned it, Astræa, following last, goddess of innocence and purity. =19. The Flood.= Jupiter, observing the condition of things, burned with anger. He summoned the gods to council. Obeying the call, they traveled the Milky Way to the palace of Heaven. There, Jupiter set forth to the assembly the frightful condition of the earth, and announced his intention of destroying its inhabitants, and providing a new race, unlike the present, which should be worthier of life and more reverent toward the gods. Fearing lest a conflagration might set Heaven itself on fire, he proceeded to drown the world. Not satisfied with his own waters, he called his brother Neptune to his aid. Speedily the race of men, and their possessions, were swept away by the deluge. =20. Deucalion and Pyrrha.= Parnassus alone, of the mountains, overtopped the waves; and there Deucalion, son of Prometheus, and his wife Pyrrha, daughter of Epimetheus, found refuge--he a just man and she a faithful worshiper of the gods. Jupiter, remembering the harmless lives and pious demeanor of this pair, caused the waters to recede,--the sea to return to its shores, and the rivers to their channels. Then Deucalion and Pyrrha, entering a temple defaced with slime, approached the unkindled altar and, falling prostrate, prayed for guidance and aid. The oracle[15] answered, "Depart from the temple with head veiled and garments unbound, and cast behind you the bones of your mother." They heard the words with astonishment. Pyrrha first broke silence: "We cannot obey; we dare not profane the remains of our parents." They sought the woods, and revolved the oracle in their minds. At last Deucalion spoke: "Either my wit fails me or the command is one we may obey without impiety. The earth is the great parent of all; the stones are her bones; these we may cast behind us; this, I think, the oracle means. At least, to try will harm us not." They veiled their faces, unbound their garments, and, picking up stones, cast them behind them. The stones began to grow soft and to assume shape. By degrees they put on a rude resemblance to the human form. Those thrown by Deucalion became men; those by Pyrrha, women. It was a hard race that sprang up, and well adapted to labor. =21. The Demigods and Heroes.= As preceding the Age of Iron, Hesiod mentions an _Age of Demigods and Heroes_. Since, however, these demigods and heroes were, many of them, reputed to have been directly descended from Deucalion, their epoch must be regarded as subsequent to the deluge. The hero, Hellen, son of Deucalion and Pyrrha, became the ancestor of the Hellenes, or Greeks. The Æolians and Dorians were, according to legend, descended from his sons Æolus and Dorus; from his son Xuthus, the Achæans and Ionians derived their origin. Another great division of the Greek people, the Pelasgic, resident in the Peloponnesus or southern portion of the peninsula, was said to have sprung from a different stock of heroes, that of Pelasgus, son of Phoroneus of Argos and grandson of the river-god Inachus. The demigods and heroes were of matchless worth and valor. Their adventures form the subject of many of the succeeding chapters. The Older Heroes, especially, were endowed with godlike qualities, which they devoted to the service of mankind in the destruction of monsters, the founding of cities, or the introduction of civilization. Such were Perseus, the hero of Argos and his descendant Hercules, who came to be worshiped as the national hero of the Greeks. Such, too, Cadmus, the founder of Thebes, and Cecrops of Athens, and one of his successors, Theseus, a "second Hercules." Each city of Greece had its patron hero, to whom it accorded the honors of divinity. The Younger Heroes were chieftains in the Theban and the Trojan wars and in numerous other military or predatory expeditions. [Illustration: FIG. 5. POSEIDON, DIONYSUS, AND GODDESS] FOOTNOTES: [2] Supplementary information concerning many of the myths may be found in the corresponding sections of the Commentary. For the pronunciation of names see Index, and Rules preceding the Index. [3] So far as possible, Latin designations, or Latinized forms of Greek names, are used. [4] On the Titans, etc., Preller's Griech. Mythol. 1, 37. [5] On signification of Uranus, Cronus, Zeus, see Preller, 1, 37, 38, and Commentary, §§ 4, 24. [6] Roscher, Ausf. Lex., Article _Giganten_ [J. Ilberg]. [7] The name more probably signifies Brandisher [of the Lance]. [8] Consequently the creation of these men could not be assigned to Prometheus,--unless they were made by him before the war of the Titans. [9] There is uncertainty as to the mythical period of these events. The order here given seems to me well grounded. Hes. Works and Days, 180; Theog. 790-910. [10] §§ 156, 161, 191 and Commentary, § 10. [11] From Herakles, a drama by George Cabot Lodge. [12] From Byron's Prometheus. See also his translation from the Prometheus Vinctus of Æschylus, and his Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte. [13] Prometheus, or The Poet's Forethought. See Commentary. [14] Compare Byron's political satire, The Age of Bronze. [15] Oracles, see §§ 24, 30, and Commentary. CHAPTER II THE GODS OF HEAVEN[16] [Illustration: FIG. 6. TWO HOURS] =22. Olympus.= The heaven of the Greek gods was the summit of an ideal mountain called Olympus.[17] A gate of clouds, kept by goddesses, the Hours or Seasons, opened to permit the passage of the Celestials to earth, and to receive them on their return. The gods had their separate dwellings; but all, when summoned, repaired to the palace of Jupiter,--even the deities whose usual abode was the earth, the waters, or the underworld. In the great hall of the Olympian king the gods feasted each day on ambrosia and nectar. Here they conversed of the affairs of heaven and earth; and as they quaffed the nectar that Hebe poured, Apollo made melody with his lyre and the Muses sang in responsive strain. When the sun was set, the gods withdrew to their respective dwellings for the night. The following lines from the Odyssey express the conception of Olympus entertained by Homer: So saying, Minerva, goddess, azure-eyed, Rose to Olympus, the reputed seat Eternal of the gods, which never storms Disturb, rains drench, or snow invades, but calm The expanse and cloudless shines with purest day. There the inhabitants divine rejoice Forever.[18] =23. The Great Gods.= The gods of Heaven were the following:[19] Jupiter (Zeus).[20] His daughter, Minerva (Athena), who sprang from his brain, full-grown and full-armed. His sister and wife, Juno (Hera). His children by Juno,--Mars (Ares), Vulcan (Hephæstus), and Hebe. His children by Latona,--Apollo, or Ph[oe]bus, and Diana (Artemis). His daughter by Dione,--Venus (Aphrodite).[21] His son by Maia,--Mercury (Hermes). His sister, Vesta (Hestia), the oldest born of Cronus and Rhea. Of these all were deities of the highest order save Hebe, who must be ranked with the lesser gods. With the remaining ten "Great Gods" are sometimes reckoned the other sister of Jupiter, Ceres (Demeter), properly a divinity of earth, and Neptune (Poseidon), ruler of the sea. =24. Jupiter[22] (Zeus).= The Greek name signifies the radiant light of heaven. Jupiter was the supreme ruler of the universe, wisest of the divinities and most glorious. In the Iliad he informs the other gods that their united strength would not budge him: that, on the contrary, he could draw them and earth and the seas to himself, and suspend all from Olympus by a golden chain. Throned in the high, clear heavens, Jupiter was the gatherer of clouds and snows, the dispenser of gentle rains and winds, the moderator of light and heat and the seasons, the thunderer, the wielder of the thunderbolt. Bodily strength and valor were dear to him. He was worshiped with various rites in different lands, and to him were sacred everywhere the loftiest trees and the grandest mountain peaks. He required of his worshipers cleanliness of surroundings and person and heart. Justice was his; his to repay violation of duty in the family, in social relations, and in the state. Prophecy was his; and his will was made known at the oracle of Dodona, where answers were given to those who inquired concerning the future. This oracular shrine was the most ancient in Greece. According to one account two black doves had taken wing from Thebes in Egypt. One flew to Dodona in Epirus, and, alighting in a grove of oaks, proclaimed to the inhabitants of the district that they should establish there an oracle of Jupiter. The other dove flew to the temple of Jupiter Ammon in the Libyan oasis, and delivered a similar command. According to another account, these were not doves but priestesses who, carried off from Thebes by the Ph[oe]nicians, set up oracles at Oasis and Dodona. The responses of the oracle were given by the rustling of the oak trees in the wind. The sounds were interpreted by priests. [Illustration: FIG. 7. ZEUS] That Jupiter himself, though wedded to the goddess Juno, should be charged with numerous other love affairs, not only in respect of goddesses but of mortals, is, in part, explained by the fact that to the supreme divinity of the Greeks have been ascribed attributes and adventures of numerous local and foreign divinities that were gradually identified with him. It is, therefore, not wise to assume that the love affairs of Jupiter and of other divinities always symbolize combinations of natural or physical forces that have repeated themselves in ever-varying guise. It is important to understand that the more ideal Olympian religion absorbed features of inferior religions, and that Jupiter, when represented as appropriating the characteristics of other gods, was sometimes, also, accredited with their wives. Beside the children of Jupiter already enumerated, there should here be mentioned, as of peculiar consequence, Bacchus (Dionysus), the god of wine, a deity of earth,--Proserpine, the wife of Pluto and queen of the underworld,--and Hercules, the greatest of the heroes. [Illustration: FIG. 8. ZEUS AFTER PHIDIAS] =25. Conceptions of Jupiter.= The Greeks usually conceived the Jupiter of war as riding in his thunder-car, hurling the thunderbolt or lashing his enemies with a scourge of lightning. He wore a breastplate or shield of storm-cloud like the skin of a gray goat (the _Ægis_), fearful to behold, and made by the god of fire. His special messenger was the eagle. It was, however, only with the passage of generations that the Greeks came to represent their greatest of the gods by the works of men's hands. The statue of Olympian Jove by Phidias was considered the highest achievement of Grecian sculpture. It was of colossal dimensions and, like other statues of the period, "chryselephantine," that is, composed of ivory and gold. For the parts representing flesh were of ivory laid on a framework of wood, while the drapery and ornaments were of gold. The height of the figure was forty feet, of the pedestal twelve. The god was represented as seated on his throne. His brows were crowned with a wreath of olive; he held in his right hand a scepter, and in his left a statue of Victory. The throne was of cedar, adorned with gold and precious stones. The idea which the artist essayed to embody was that of the supreme deity of the Hellenic race, enthroned as a conqueror, in perfect majesty and repose, and ruling with a nod the subject world. Phidias informs us that the idea was suggested by Homer's lines in the first book of the Iliad: Jove said, and nodded with his shadowy brows; Waved on th' immortal head th' ambrosial locks,-- And all Olympus trembled at his nod.[23] Unfortunately, our knowledge of this famous statue is confined to literary descriptions, and to copies on coins. Other representations of Jove have been obtained from Greek bronze statuettes, or the wall-paintings of Herculaneum and Pompeii. =26. Juno[24] (Hera)=, sister and wife of Jupiter. According to some, the name _Hera_ means Splendor of Heaven, according to others, the Lady. Some think it approves her goddess of earth; others, goddess of the air; still others, for reasons by no means final, say that it signifies Protectress, and applies to Juno in her original function of moon-goddess, the chosen guardian of women, their aid in seasons of distress. Juno's union with Jupiter was the prototype of earthly marriages. She is the type of matronly virtues and dignity. [Illustration: FIG. 9. HERA OF ARGOS] She was the daughter of Cronus and Rhea, but was brought up by Oceanus and Tethys in their dwelling in the remote west beyond the sea. Without the knowledge of her parents, she was wedded to Jupiter in this garden of the gods where ambrosial rivers flowed, and where Earth sent up in honor of the rite a tree of life, heavy with apples golden like the sunset. Juno was the most worthy of the goddesses, the most queenly; ox-eyed, says Homer; says Hesiod, golden-sandaled and golden-throned. Glorious beyond compare was her presence, when she had harnessed her horses, and driven forth the golden-wheeled chariot that Hebe made ready, and that the Hours set aside. Fearful, too, could be her wrath. For she was of a jealous disposition, which was not happily affected by the vagaries of her spouse; and she was, moreover, prone to quarrels, self-willed, vengeful, proud, even on occasion deceitful. Once, indeed, she conspired with Minerva and Neptune to bind the cloud-compeller himself. More than once she provoked him to blows; and once to worse than blows,--for her lord and master swung her aloft in the clouds, securing her wrists in golden handcuffs and hanging anvils to her feet. The cities that the ox-eyed goddess favored were Argos, Sparta, and Mycenæ. To her the peacock and the cow were dear, and many a grove and pasture rejoiced her sacred herds. [Illustration: HERA OF THE VATICAN] [Illustration: FIG. 10. ATHENA VELLETRI] =27. Minerva= (=Athene= or =Athena=), the virgin goddess. She sprang from the brain of Jove, agleam with panoply of war, brandishing a spear and with her battle-cry awakening the echoes of heaven and earth. She is goddess of the lightning that leaps like a lance from the cloud-heavy sky, and hence, probably, the name _Athene_.[25] She is goddess of the storms and of the rushing thunderbolt, and is, therefore, styled Pallas. She is the goddess of the thundercloud, which is symbolized by her tasseled breastplate of goatskin, the _ægis_, whereon is fixed the head of Medusa, the Gorgon, that turns to stone all beholders. She is also the goddess of war, rejoicing in martial music and protecting the war horse and the warship. On the other hand, she is of a gentle, fair, and thoughtful aspect. Her Latin name _Minerva_ is connected with the Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin words for _mind_. She is eternally a virgin, the goddess of wisdom, of skill, of contemplation, of spinning and weaving, of horticulture and agriculture. She is protectress of cities, and was specially worshiped in her own Athens, in Argos, in Sparta, and in Troy. To her were sacrificed oxen and cows. The olive tree, created by her, was sacred to her, and also the owl, the cock, the serpent, and the crow. =28. Mars (Ares)=,[26] the war-god, son of Jupiter and Juno. The meaning of the name _Ares_ is uncertain; the most probable significations are the _Slayer_, the _Avenger_, the _Curse_. The Roman god of war, Mars, is the _bright_ and _burning_ one. Homer, in the Iliad, represents Ares as the insatiable warrior of the heroic age, who, impelled by rage and lust of violence, exults in the noise of battle, revels in the horror of carnage. Strife and slaughter are the condition of his existence. Where the fight is thickest, there he rushes in without hesitation, without question as to which side is right. In battle array he is resplendent,--on his head the gleaming helmet and floating plume, on his arm the leathern shield, in his hand the redoubtable spear of bronze. Well-favored, stately, swift, unwearied, puissant, gigantic, he is still the foe of wisdom, the scourge of mortals. Usually he fights on foot, sometimes from a chariot drawn by four horses,--the offspring of the North Wind and a Fury. In the fray his sons attend him,--Terror, Trembling, Panic, and Fear,--also his sister Eris, or Discord (the mother of Strife), his daughter Enyo, ruiner of cities, and a retinue of bloodthirsty demons. As typifying the chances of war, Mars is, of course, not always successful. In the battles before Troy, Minerva and Juno bring him more than once to grief; and when he complains to Jupiter, he is snubbed as a renegade most hateful of all the gods.[27] His loved one and mistress is the goddess of beauty herself. In her arms the warrior finds repose. Their daughter Harmonia is the ancestress of the unquiet dynasty of Thebes. The favorite land of Mars was, according to Homer, the rough, northerly Thrace. His emblems are the spear and the burning torch; his chosen animals are haunters of the battle field,--the vulture and the dog. [Illustration: FIG. 11. ARES LUDOVISI] =29. Vulcan (Hephæstus)=, son of Jupiter and Juno, was the god of fire, especially of terrestrial fire,--volcanic eruption, incendiary flame, the glow of the forge or the hearth. But as the fires of earth are derived from that of heaven, perhaps the name _Hephæstus_ (burning, shining, flaming) referred originally to the marvelous brilliance of the lightning. Vulcan was the blacksmith of the gods, the finest artificer in metal among them. His forge in Olympus was furnished not only with anvils and all other implements of the trade, but with automatic handmaidens of silver and gold, fashioned by Vulcan himself. Poets later than Homer assign to Vulcan workshops under various volcanic islands. From the crater of Mount Ætna poured forth the fumes and flames of his smithy. He built the dwellings of the gods; he made the scepter of Jove, the shields and spears of the Olympians, the arrows of Apollo and Diana, the breastplate of Hercules, the shield of Achilles. [Illustration: FIG. 12. ARES (MARS)] He was lame of gait,--a figurative suggestion, perhaps, of the flickering, unsteady nature of fire. According to his own story,[28] he was born halt; and his mother, chagrined by his deformity, cast him from Heaven out of the sight of the gods. Yet, again,[29] he says that, attempting once to save his mother from Jupiter's wrath, he was caught by the foot and hurled by the son of Cronus from the heavenly threshold: "All day I flew; and at the set of sun I fell in Lemnos, and little life was left in me." Had he not been lame before, he had good reason to limp after either of these catastrophes. He took part in the making of the human race, and in the special creation of Pandora. He assisted also at the birth of Minerva, to facilitate which he split Jupiter's head open with an ax. [Illustration: FIG. 13. THE FORGE OF VULCAN] His wife, according to the Iliad and Hesiod's Theogony, is Aglaia, the youngest of the Graces; but in the Odyssey it is Venus. He is a glorious, good-natured god, loved and honored among men as the founder of wise customs and the patron of artificers; on occasion, as a god of healing and of prophecy. He seems to have been, when he chose, the cause of "inextinguishable laughter" to the gods, but he was by no means a fool. The famous god of the strong arms could be cunning, even vengeful, when the emergency demanded. [Illustration: FIG. 14. APOLLO IN THE VATICAN] =30. Apollo=, or Ph[oe]bus Apollo, the son of Jupiter and Latona, was preëminently the god of the sun. His name _Ph[oe]bus_ signifies the radiant nature of the sunlight; his name _Apollo_, perhaps, the cruel and destructive heat of noonday. Soon after his birth, Jupiter would have sent him to Delphi to inculcate righteousness and justice among the Greeks; but the golden god Apollo chose first to spend a year in the land of the Hyperboreans, where for six continuous months of the year there is sunshine and spring, soft climate, profusion of herbs and flowers, and the very ecstasy of life. During this delay the Delphians sang pæans,--hymns of praise,--and danced in chorus about the tripod (or three-legged stool), where the expectant priestess of Apollo had taken her seat. At last, when the year was warm, came the god in his chariot drawn by swans,--heralded by songs of springtide, of nightingales and swallows and crickets. Then the crystal fount of Castalia and the stream Cephissus overflowed their bounds, and mankind made grateful offerings to the god. But his advent was not altogether peaceful. An enormous serpent, Python, had crept forth from the slime with which, after the flood, the Earth was covered; and in the caves of Mount Parnassus this terror of the people lurked. Him Apollo encountered and after fearful combat slew, with arrows, weapons which the god of the silver bow had not before used against any but feeble animals,--hares, wild goats, and such game. In commemoration of this illustrious conquest, he instituted the Pythian games, in which the victor in feats of strength, swiftness of foot, or in the chariot race, should be crowned with a wreath of beech leaves. Apollo brought not only the warm spring and summer, but also the blessings of the harvest. He warded off the dangers and diseases of summer and autumn; and he healed the sick. He was patron of music and of poetry. Through his oracle at Delphi, on the slopes of Parnassus in Phocis, the Pythian god made known the future to those who consulted him. He was a founder of cities, a promoter of colonization, a giver of good laws, the ideal of fair and manly youth,--a pure and just god, requiring clean hands and pure hearts of those that worshiped him. But though a god of life and peace, the far-darter did not shun the weapons of war. When presumption was to be punished, or wrong righted, he could bend his bow and slay with the arrows of his sunlight. As in the days of his youth he slew the Python, so, also, he slew the froward Tityus, and so the children of Niobe. While Ph[oe]bus Apollo is the Olympian divinity of the sun, fraught with light and healing, spiritual, creative, and prophetic, he must not be confounded with a god of the older dynasty, Helios (offspring of Hyperion, Titanic deity of light), who represented the sun in its daily and yearly course, in its physical rather than spiritual manifestation. The bow of Apollo was bound with laurel in memory of Daphne, whom he loved. To him were sacred, also, many creatures,--the wolf, the roe, the mouse, the he-goat, the ram, the dolphin, and the swan.[30] [Illustration: FIG. 15. APOLLO BELVEDERE] =31. Shelley's Hymn of Apollo.= The sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie, Curtained with star-inwoven tapestries, From the broad moonlight of the sky, Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes,-- Waken me when their mother, the gray Dawn, Tells them that dreams and that the moon is gone. [Illustration: FIG. 16. APOLLO] Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's blue dome, I walk over the mountains and the waves, Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam; My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the caves Are filled with my bright presence, and the air Leaves the green earth to my embraces bare. The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day; All men who do or even imagine ill Fly me, and from the glory of my ray Good minds and open actions take new might, Until diminished by the reign of night. I feed the clouds, the rainbows, and the flowers With their ethereal colors; the moon's globe And the pure stars in their eternal bowers Are cinctured with my power as with a robe; Whatever lamps on Earth or Heaven may shine, Are portions of one power, which is mine. I stand at noon upon the peak of Heaven, Then with unwilling steps I wander down Into the clouds of the Atlantic even; For grief that I depart they weep and frown: What look is more delightful than the smile With which I soothe them from the western isle? I am the eye with which the universe Beholds itself and knows itself divine; All harmony of instrument or verse, All prophecy, all medicine, are mine, All light of art or nature;--to my song, Victory and praise in their own right belong. [Illustration: FIG. 17. DIANA. After Correggio] =32. Diana (Artemis)=, twin sister of Apollo, was born on Mount Cynthus in the island of Delos. Latona, the future mother of Diana and Apollo, flying from the wrath of Juno, had besought, one after another, the islands of the Ægean to afford her a place of rest; but they feared too much the potent queen of heaven. Delos alone consented to become the birthplace of the future deities. This isle was then floating and unstable; but on Latona's arrival, Jupiter fastened it with adamantine chains to the bottom of the sea, that it might be a secure resting-place for his beloved. The daughter of Latona is, as her name _Artemis_ indicates, a virgin goddess, the ideal of modesty, grace, and maidenly vigor. She is associated with her brother, the prince of archery, in nearly all his adventures, and in attributes she is his feminine counterpart. As he is identified with sunlight, so is she, his fair-tressed sister, with the chaste brilliance of the moon. Its slender arc is her bow; its beams are her arrows with which she sends upon womankind a speedy and painless death. In her prerogative of moon-goddess she is frequently identified with Selene, daughter of Hyperion, just as Apollo is with Helios. Despising the weakness of love, Diana imposed upon her nymphs vows of perpetual maidenhood, any violation of which she was swift and severe to punish. Graceful in form and free of movement, equipped for the chase, and surrounded by a bevy of fair companions, the swift-rushing goddess was wont to scour hill, valley, forest, and plain. She was, however, not only huntress, but guardian, of wild beasts,--mistress withal of horses and kine and other domestic brutes. She ruled marsh and mountain; her gleaming arrows smote sea as well as land. Springs and woodland brooks she favored, for in them she and her attendants were accustomed to bathe. She blessed with verdure the meadows and arable lands, and from them obtained a meed of thanks. When weary of the chase she turned to music and dancing; for the lyre and flute and song were dear to her. Muses, Graces, nymphs, and the fair goddesses themselves thronged the rites of the chorus-leading queen. But ordinarily a woodland chapel or a rustic altar sufficed for her worship. There the hunter laid his offering--antlers, skin, or edible portions of the deer that Artemis of the golden arrows had herself vouchsafed him. The holy maid, however, though naturally gracious, gentle, and a healer of ills, was, like her brother, quick to resent injury to her sacred herds or insult to herself. To this stern temper Agamemnon, Orion, and Niobe bore regretful testimony. They found that the "fair-crowned queen of the echoing chase," though blithe and gracious, was by no means a frivolous personage. [Illustration: FIG. 18. DIANA (ARTEMIS) OF VERSAILLES] Diana was mistress of the brute creation, protectress of youth, patron of temperance in all things, guardian of civil right. The cypress tree was sacred to her; and her favorites were the bear, the boar, the dog, the goat, and specially the hind. [Illustration: FIG. 19. ARTEMIS] =33. Jonson's Hymn to Cynthia (Diana).= Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wishèd sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright.[31] =34. Venus (Aphrodite)=, goddess of love and beauty, was, according to the more ancient Greek conception, a daughter of Jupiter and Dione;[32] but Hesiod says that she arose from the foam of the sea at the time of the wounding of Uranus, and therefore was called, by the Greeks, Aphrodite, _the foam-born_.[33] Wafted by the west wind, and borne upon the surge, she won first the island of Cythera; thence, like a dream, she passed to Cyprus, where the grace and blossom of her beauty conquered every heart. Everywhere, at the touch of her feet the herbage quivered into flower. The Hours and Graces surrounded her, twining odorous garlands and weaving robes for her that reflected the hues and breathed the perfume of crocus and hyacinth, violet, rose, lily, and narcissus. To her influence is ascribed the fruitfulness of the animal and of the vegetable creation. She is goddess of gardens and flowers, of the rose, the myrtle, and the linden. The heaths and slumberous vales, pleasant with spring and vernal breezes, are hers. In her broidered girdle lurk "love and desire, and loving converse that steals the wits even of the wise." For she is the mistress of feminine charm and beauty, the golden, sweetly smiling Aphrodite, who rules the hearts of men. She lends to mortals seductive form and fascination. To a few, indeed, her favor is a blessing; but to many her gifts are treacherous, destructive of peace. Her various influence is exemplified in the stories of Pygmalion and Adonis, Paris and Æneas, Helen, Ariadne, Psyche, Procris, Pasiphaë, and Phædra. Her power extended over sea as well as land, and her temples rose from many a shore. On the waters swan and dolphin were beloved of her; in air, the sparrow and the dove. She was usually attended by her winged son Cupid, of whom much is to be told. Especially dear to her were Cyprus, Cnidos, Paphos, Cythera, Abydos, Mount Eryx, and the city of Corinth. =35. The "Venus of Milo."= Of artistic conceptions of Aphrodite, the most famous are the statues called the Venus of Melos and the Venus of the Medici.[34] A comparison of the two conceptions is instituted in the following poem.[35] The worshiper apostrophizes the Venus of Melos, that "inner beauty of the world," whose tranquil smile he finds more fair than "The Medicean's sly and servile grace": [Illustration: VENUS OF MELOS] From our low world no gods have taken wing; Even now upon our hills the twain are wandering:[36] The Medicean's sly and servile grace, And the immortal beauty of thy face. One is the spirit of all short-lived love And outward, earthly loveliness: The tremulous rosy morn is her mouth's smile, The sky, her laughing azure eyes above; And, waiting for caress. Lie bare the soft hill-slopes, the while Her thrilling voice is heard In song of wind and wave, and every flitting bird. Not plainly, never quite herself she shows: Just a swift glance of her illumined smile Along the landscape goes; Just a soft hint of singing, to beguile A man from all his toil; Some vanished gleam of beckoning arm, to spoil A morning's task with longing, wild and vain. Then if across the parching plain He seek her, she with passion burns His heart to fever, and he hears The west wind's mocking laughter when he turns, Shivering in mist of ocean's sullen tears. It is the Medicean: well I know The arts her ancient subtlety will show,-- The stubble field she turns to ruddy gold; The empty distance she will fold In purple gauze; the warm glow she has kissed Along the chilling mist: Cheating and cheated love that grows to hate And ever deeper loathing, soon or late. Thou, too, O fairer spirit, walkest here Upon the lifted hills: Wherever that still thought within the breast The inner beauty of the world hath moved; In starlight that the dome of evening fills; On endless waters rounding to the west: For them who thro' that beauty's veil have loved The soul of all things beautiful the best. For lying broad awake, long ere the dawn, Staring against the dark, the blank of space Opens immeasurably, and thy face Wavers and glimmers there and is withdrawn. And many days, when all one's work is vain, And life goes stretching on, a waste gray plain, With even the short mirage of morning gone, No cool breath anywhere, no shadow nigh Where a weary man might lay him down and die, Lo! thou art there before me suddenly, With shade as if a summer cloud did pass, And spray of fountains whispering to the grass. Oh, save me from the haste and noise and heat That spoil life's music sweet: And from that lesser Aphrodite there-- Even now she stands Close as I turn, and O my soul, how fair! [Illustration: FIG. 20. HERMES PSYCHOPOMPOS] =36. Mercury (Hermes)=, born in a cave of Mount Cyllene in Arcadia, was the son of Jupiter and Maia (the daughter of Atlas). According to conjecture, his name _Hermes_ means the _Hastener_. Mercury, swift as the wind, was the servant and herald of Jupiter and the other gods. On his ankles (in plastic art), and his low-crowned, broad-brimmed _petasus_, or hat, were wings. As messenger of Heaven, he bore a wand (_caduceus_) of wood or of gold, twined with snakes and surmounted by wings, and possessed of magical powers over sleeping, waking, and dreams. He was beautiful and ever in the prime of youthful vigor. To a voice sweet-toned and powerful, he added the persuasiveness of eloquence. But his skill was not confined to speech; he was also the first of inventors--to him are ascribed the lyre and the flute. He was the forerunner, too, of mathematicians and astronomers. His agility and strength made him easily prince in athletic pursuits. His cunning rendered him a dangerous foe; he could well play the trickster and the thief, as Apollo found out to his vexation, and Argus, and many another unfortunate. His methods, however, were not always questionable; although the patron of gamblers and the god of chance, he, at the same time, was the furtherer of lawful industry and of commerce by land and sea. The gravest function of the Messenger was to conduct the souls of the dead, "that gibber like bats as they fare, down the dank ways, past the streams of Oceanus, past the gates of the sun and the land of dreams, to the mead of asphodel in the dark realm of Hades, where dwell the souls, the phantoms of men outworn."[37] =37. Vesta (Hestia)=, goddess of the hearth, public and private, was the first-born child of Cronus and Rhea and, accordingly, the elder sister of Jupiter, Juno, Neptune, Pluto, and Ceres. Vesta was an old maid by choice. Averse to Venus and all her ways, she scorned the flattering advances of both Neptune and Apollo, and resolved to remain single. Whereupon Jupiter gave her to sit in the middle of his palace, to receive in Olympus the choicest morsels of the feast, and, in the temples of the gods on earth, reverence as the oldest and worthiest of Olympian divinities. As goddess of the burning hearth, Vesta is the divinity of the home: of settled, in opposition to nomadic, habits of life. She was worshiped first of the gods at every feast. Before her shrine in city and state the holy flame was religiously cherished. From her altars those of the other gods obtained their fires. No new colony, no new home, was duly consecrated till on its central hearth there glowed coals from her ancestral hearth. In her temple at Rome a sacred fire, tended by six virgin priestesses called Vestals, was kept religiously aflame. As the safety of the city was held to be connected with its conservation, any negligence, by which it might go out, was severely punished. Whenever the fire did die, it was rekindled from the rays of the sun. =38.= Of the =Lesser Divinities of Heaven= the most worthy of mention are: 1. _Cupid (Eros)_, small but mighty god of love, the son of Venus and her constant companion. He was often represented with eyes covered because of the blindness of his actions. With his bow and arrows, he shot the darts of desire into the bosoms of gods and men. Another deity named _Anteros_, reputed the brother of Eros, was sometimes represented as the avenger of slighted love, and sometimes as the symbol of reciprocal affection. Venus was also attended at times by another brother of Eros, _Himeros_, or Longing, and by _Hymen_, a beautiful youth of divine descent, the personification of the wedding feast and leader of the nuptial chorus. Of Eros the poet Gosse writes: [Illustration: FIG. 21. EROS] Within a forest, as I strayed Far down a somber autumn glade, I found the god of love; His bow and arrows cast aside, His lovely arms extended wide, A depth of leaves above, Beneath o'erarching boughs he made A place for sleep in russet shade. His lips, more red than any rose, Were like a flower that overflows With honey pure and sweet; And clustering round that holy mouth, The golden bees in eager drouth Plied busy wings and feet; They knew, what every lover knows, There's no such honey-bloom that blows.[38] 2. _Hebe_, daughter of Jupiter and Juno, goddess of youth and cupbearer to the gods. According to one story, she resigned that office on becoming the wife of Hercules. According to another, Hebe was dismissed from her position in consequence of a fall which she met with one day when in attendance on the gods. Her successor was _Ganymede_, a Trojan boy whom Jupiter, in the disguise of an eagle, seized and carried off from the midst of his playfellows on Mount Ida, bore up to Heaven, and installed in the vacant place. 3. _The Graces_, daughters of Jove by Eurynome, daughter of Oceanus. They were goddesses presiding over the banquet, the dance, all social pleasures, and polite accomplishments. They were three in number,--Euphrosyne, Aglaia, and Thalia. Spenser describes the office of the Graces thus: These three on men all gracious gifts bestow Which deck the body or adorn the mind, To make them lovely or well-favored show; As comely carriage, entertainment kind, Sweet semblance, friendly offices that bind, And all the complements of courtesy; They teach us how to each degree and kind We should ourselves demean, to low, to high, To friends, to foes; which skill men call civility. [Illustration: FIG. 22. RAPE OF GANYMEDE] 4. _The Muses_, daughters of Jupiter and Mnemosyne (Memory). They presided over song and prompted the memory. They are ordinarily cited as nine in number; and to each of them was assigned patronage in some department of literature, art, or science. Calliope was the muse of epic poetry, Clio of history, Euterpe of lyric poetry, Melpomene of tragedy, Terpsichore of choral dance and song, Erato of love poetry, Polyhymnia of sacred poetry, Urania of astronomy, Thalia of comedy. [Illustration: FIG. 23. POLYHYMNIA] 5. _Themis_, one of the Titans, a daughter of Uranus. She sat, as goddess of justice, beside Jupiter on his throne. She was beloved of the father of gods and men, and bore him the Hours, goddesses who regulated the seasons, and the Fates. [Illustration: FIG. 24. THE THREE FATES From the painting by Michelangelo(?)] 6. _The Fates_, three in number,--Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Their office was to spin the thread of human destiny, and they were provided with shears with which they cut it off when they pleased.[39] According to Hesiod, they were daughters of Night. 7. _Nemesis_, daughter of Night. She represented the righteous anger and vengeance of the gods, particularly toward the proud, the insolent, and breakers of the law. 8. _Æsculapius_, son of Apollo. By his skill in medicine he restored the dead to life. Being killed by the lightning of Jove, he was translated to the ranks of Heaven. His function was the art of healing. 9. _The Winds_,--Boreas, or Aquilo, the north wind; Zephyrus, or Favonius, the west; Notus, or Auster, the south; and Eurus, the east. The first two, chiefly, have been celebrated by the poets, the former as the type of rudeness, the latter of gentleness. It is said that Boreas loved the nymph Orithyia and tried to play the lover's part, but met with poor success; for it was hard for him to breathe gently, and sighing was out of the question. Weary at last of fruitless endeavors, he acted out his true character, seized the maiden and bore her off. Their children were Zetes and Calaïs, winged warriors, who accompanied the Argonautic expedition and did good service in an encounter with those monstrous birds, the Harpies. Zephyrus was the lover of Flora (Chloris). [Illustration: FIG. 25. BOREAS] Here, too, may be mentioned Æolus, the king of the winds, although he is not a lesser divinity of Heaven. His palace was on the precipitous isle of Æolia, where, with his six sons and six daughters, he kept eternal carouse. The winds, which he confined in a cavern, he let loose as he saw fit or as he was bidden by superior deities. He is sometimes called Hippotades.[40] [Illustration: FIG. 26. ZEPHYROS] 10. _Helios_, _Selene_, and _Eos_, children of the Titan Hyperion. Helios and Selene were the more ancient Greek divinities of Sun and Moon respectively. Helios, the charioteer of the sun, is, as has been already said, frequently identified with his successor, Apollo. The attributes and adventures of Selene were merged in those of the more modern Diana. Eos, or, in Latin nomenclature, Aurora, the rosy-fingered goddess of the Morn, was mother of the stars and of the morning and evening breezes. Saffron-robed she rises from the streams of Ocean, to bring light to gods and men. [Illustration: FIG. 27. BOREAS CARRYING OFF ORITHYIA] 11. _Phosphor_, the morning-star, the star of Venus, son of Aurora and the hunter Cephalus. _Hesper_, the evening-star, was sometimes identified with Phosphor. He was king of the Western Land, and, say some, father of the Hesperides, who guarded the golden apples of the sunset. The Spirit in Milton's Comus tells of ... the gardens fair Of Hesperus, and his daughters three That sing about the golden tree. Along the crispèd shades and bowers Revels the spruce and jocund Spring; The Graces and the rosy-bosomed Hours Thither all their bounties bring. There eternal Summer dwells, And west winds with musky wing About the cedarn alleys fling Nard and cassia's balmy smells. Iris there with humid bow Waters the odorous banks, that blow Flowers of more mingled hue Than her purfled scarf can shew. And Tennyson taking the lines as a text has written the melodious and mystic song of the Hesperides, beginning-- The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, Guard it well, guard it warily, Singing airily, Standing about the charmèd root. Round about all is mute, As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks, As the sandfield at the mountain-foot. Crocodiles in briny creeks Sleep and stir not: all is mute. If ye sing not, if ye make false measure, We shall lose eternal pleasure, Worth eternal want of rest. Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure Of the wisdom of the West. Readers of this poem will notice that Tennyson follows the tradition by which a sleepless dragon is introduced among the guardians of the Hesperian fruit. Still other versions substitute for Hesperus, the Titan Atlas. 12. _Various Other Personifications._ The constellation Orion, whose story will be narrated; Victoria (Nike), the goddess of Victory; Discors (Eris), the goddess of Strife; and Iris, goddess of the rainbow, who is represented frequently as a messenger of the gods. [Illustration: FIG. 28. IRIS CARRYING CHILD] FOOTNOTES: [16] Consult, in general, corresponding sections of the Commentary. [17] Symbolized on earth by Mount Olympus in Thessaly. [18] Cowper's translation. [19] See Commentary, § 23, for Gladstone's latest utterance on the number of the Olympians. [20] The names included in parentheses represent the Greek, the others being Roman equivalents, Latin names, or names common to both Greek and Roman usage. [21] See Commentary, § 34. [22] On the Latin name, see Commentary, § 24. [23] Iliad, I, 622-625, Earl of Derby's translation. See also the passage in Chapman's translation. [24] On the name _Juno_, see Commentary. [25] For the names _Athene_ and _Minerva_, see Commentary. [26] See Commentary. [27] Iliad, 5, 590. See also 21, 395. [28] Iliad, 18, 395. [29] Iliad, 1, 390. [30] On the birth of Apollo, his adventures, names, festivals, oracles, and his place in literature and art, see Commentary. For other particulars, see sections on _Myths of Apollo_. [31] From Cynthia's Revels. [32] Iliad, 5, 370, etc. [33] A popular etymology. [34] For Venus in poetry and art, see Commentary. [35] From the Venus of Milo, by E. R. Sill, formerly professor of English Literature in the University of California. [36] The references are to the Berkeley Hills, the Bay of San Francisco, and the glimpses of the Pacific. [37] Lang, Odyssey, 24, 1; adapted. [38] Eros, by Edmund Gosse. For verses on the blindness of Cupid, see Lyly's Cupid and Campaspe in Commentary. [39] For description of their spinning, see translation of Catullus, LXIV, in § 191. [40] See Commentary. CHAPTER III THE GODS OF EARTH[41] [Illustration: FIG. 29. DEMETER OF KNIDOS] =39. Conception of the World.= The Greek poets believed the earth to be flat and circular. In their opinion their own country occupied the middle of it, and the central point was either Mount Olympus, the abode of the gods, or Delphi, famous for its oracle. The circular disk of the earth was crossed from west to east and divided into two equal parts by the _Sea_, as they called the Mediterranean and its continuation the Euxine, the only seas with which they were acquainted. Around the earth flowed _River_ _Ocean_, from south to north on the western side, in a contrary direction on the eastern. It flowed in a steady, equable current, unvexed by storm or tempest. The sea and all the rivers on earth received their waters from it. The northern portion of the earth was inhabited by the Hyperboreans, dwelling in bliss and everlasting spring beyond the mountains whose caverns sent forth the piercing blasts of the north wind. Their country was inaccessible by land or sea. They lived exempt from disease or old age, from toils and warfare. "I come" sings one of them,[42]-- I come from a land in the sun-bright deep, Where golden gardens glow, Where the winds of the north, becalmed in sleep, Their conch-shells never blow. [Illustration: FIG. 30. CERES] On the south side of the earth, close to the stream of Ocean, dwelt the Æthiopians, whom the gods held in such favor that they left at times the Olympian abodes to partake of the Æthiopian sacrifices and banquets. On the western margin of the earth, by the stream of Ocean, lay the Elysian Plain, where certain mortals enjoyed an immortality of bliss. The Dawn, the Sun, and the Moon were supposed to rise out of Ocean on the eastern side and to drive through the air, giving light to gods and men. The stars, also, except those forming the Wain or Bear and others near them, rose out of and sank into the stream of Ocean. There the sun-god embarked in a winged boat, which conveyed him by the northern part of the earth back to his place of rising in the east. =40. Ceres (Demeter)=, the goddess of sowing and reaping, of harvest festivals, and of agriculture in general, was sister of Jupiter and daughter of Cronus and Rhea. She is connected through her daughter Proserpine, queen of Hades, with the holy ceremonies and rites of death and of the lower world. Of the institutions founded or favored by her the most important were the mysteries celebrated at Eleusis, concerning which we know that, in the presence of individuals initiated in the secret ritual and perhaps with their coöperation, scenes were enacted which represented the alternation of death and life in nature and, apparently, forecast the resurrection and immortality of man. Sacred to Ceres and to Proserpine were golden sheaves of corn and soporific poppies; while, among animals, cows, sheep, and pigs were acceptable to them. [Illustration: FIG. 31. DIONYSUS AND THE VINE] =41. Gæa (Ge)=, the Mother Earth, wife of Uranus, belongs to the older order of gods; so also, another goddess of the earth, _Rhea_, the wife of Cronus and mother of Jupiter. In Phrygia, Rhea became identified with _Cybele_, whose worship, as mother of the gods, was at a later period introduced into Rome. The Greek mother, Rhea, was attended by the Curetes; the Phrygian mother by the Corybantes, who celebrated her orgies with enthusiastic din of trumpets, drums, and cymbals. Cybele presided over mountain fastnesses and fortified places. =42. Bacchus (Dionysus)=, the god of wine, was the son of Jupiter and Semele, daughter of Cadmus of Thebes. He was especially the god of animal life and vegetation. He represented not only the intoxicating power of wine but its social and beneficent influences, and was looked upon as a promoter of civilization, a lawgiver, and a lover of peace. His forehead was crowned with vine leaves or ivy. He rode upon the tiger, the panther, or the lynx, or was drawn by them in a car. His worshipers were Bacchanals, or Bacchantes. He was attended by Satyrs and Sileni and by women called Mænads, who, as they danced and sang, waved in the air the _thyrsus_, a staff entwined with ivy and surmounted by a pine cone. Ordinarily, as in the following verses by Dryden, the convivial qualities of the god overshadow all the rest: The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young. The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums; Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain.[43] [Illustration: FIG. 32. PAN THE HUNTER] =43. The Lesser Divinities of Earth= were: 1. _Pan_, son of Mercury and a wood-nymph or Dryad. He was the god of woods and fields, of flocks and shepherds. He dwelt in caves, wandered on the mountains and in valleys, amused himself with the chase, led the dances of the Dryads, and made love to them. But his suit was frequently of no avail, for though good-natured he was not prepossessing; his hoofs and horns did not enhance his comeliness. He was fond of music and was himself inventor of the syrinx, or shepherd's pipe, which he played in a masterly manner. Like other gods who dwelt in forests, he was dreaded by those whose occupations caused them to pass through the woods by night; for gloom and loneliness oppress and appall the mind. Hence sudden unreasonable fright was ascribed to Pan and called a Panic terror. 2. _The Nymphs._ Pan's partners in the dance, the Dryads, were but one of several classes of nymphs. There were, beside them, the Oreads, nymphs of mountains and grottoes; and the Water-Nymphs, who are mentioned in later sections. 3. _The Satyrs_, deities of the woods and fields. In early art they appear as bearded creatures with snub noses, goats' ears, and horses' tails. Later they resemble youths, sometimes with sprouting horns. The goat-legged satyr is found in Roman poetry. [Illustration: FIG. 33. A SATYR] FOOTNOTES: [41] For references to poetry and works of art, see corresponding sections in Commentary. [42] According to Thomas Moore's Song of a Hyperborean. [43] From Alexander's Feast. CHAPTER IV THE GODS OF THE UNDERWORLD[44] =44. The Underworld= was the region of darkness inhabited by the spirits of the dead and governed by Pluto (Hades) and Proserpina, his queen. According to the Iliad, this realm lay "beneath the secret places of the earth."[45] And from the Odyssey we gather that it is not in the bowels of the earth, but on the under side at the limits of the known world, across the stream Oceanus, where is a waste shore, the land of the Cimmerians, shrouded in mist and cloud, never lighted by the sun "neither when he climbs up the starry heavens nor when again he turns earthward from the firmament."[46] From that land one goes beside the stream till he reaches the dank house of Hades. The realm of darkness is bounded by awful rivers: the Styx, sacred even among the gods, for by it they sealed their oaths, and the Acheron, river of woe,--with its tributaries, Phlegethon, river of fire, and Cocytus, river of wailing. Hither past the White Rock, which perhaps symbolizes the bleaching skeletons of the dead, and past the gates of the sun, it is the duty of Hermes (Mercury) to conduct the outworn ghosts of mortals. One of the Greek dramatists, Sophocles, tells us that this shore of death is "down in the darkling west."[47] In later poems we read that Charon, a grim boatman, received the dead at the River of Woe, and ferried them across, if the money requisite for their passage had been placed in their mouths and their bodies had been duly buried in the world above.[48] Otherwise he left them gibbering on the hither bank. The abode of Pluto is represented as wide-gated and thronged with guests. At the gate Cerberus, a three-headed, serpent-tailed dog, lay on guard,--friendly to the spirits entering, but inimical to those who would depart. The palace itself is dark and gloomy, set in the midst of uncanny fields haunted by strange apparitions. The groves of somber trees about the palace,--the meads of Asphodel, barren or, at best, studded with futile bushes and pale-flowered weeds, where wander the shades,--and the woods along the waste shore "of tall poplars and willows that shed their fruit before the season" are, without any particular discrimination, celebrated by the poets as the _Garden of Proserpine_. [Illustration: FIG. 34. THE GREEK UNDERWORLD] [Illustration: FIG. 35. HERMES CONDUCTING A SOUL TO CHARON] Here life has death for neighbor, And far from eye or ear Wan waves and wet winds labor, Weak ships and spirits steer; They drive adrift, and whither They wot not who make thither; But no such winds blow hither, And no such things grow here. No growth of moor or coppice, No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies, Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes, Where no leaf blooms or blushes Save this whereout she crushes For dead men deadly wine. * * * * * Pale, beyond porch and portal, Crowned with calm leaves, she stands Who gathers all things mortal With cold immortal hands; Her languid lips are sweeter Than love's, who fears to greet her, To men that mix and meet her From many times and lands. [Illustration: FIG. 36. HYPNOS] She waits for each and other, She waits for all men born; Forgets the earth her mother, The life of fruits and corn; And spring and seed and swallow Take wing for her and follow Where summer song rings hollow, And flowers are put to scorn. * * * * * We are not sure of sorrow, And joy was never sure; To-day will die to-morrow; Time stoops to no man's lure; And love, grown faint and fretful, With lips but half regretful Sighs, and with eyes forgetful Weeps that no loves endure. From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives forever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light; Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight; Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal: Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.[49] [Illustration: FIG. 37. A FURY] =45. Tartarus and the Elysian Fields.= With the ghosts of Hades the living might but rarely communicate, and only through certain oracles of the dead, situate by cavernous spots and sheer abysms, deep and melancholy streams, and baleful marshes. These naturally seemed to afford access to the world below, which with the later poets, such as Virgil, comes to be regarded as under the ground. One of these descents to the Underworld was near Tænarum in Laconia; another, near Cumæ in Italy, was Lake Avernus, so foul in its exhalations that, as its name portends, no bird could fly across it.[50] Before the judges of the lower world,--Minos, Æacus, and Rhadamanthus,--the souls of the dead were brought to trial. The condemned were assigned to regions where all manner of torment awaited them at the hands of monsters dire,--the fifty-headed Hydra and the avenging Furies. Some evildoers, such as the Titans of old, were doomed to languish in the gulf of Tartarus immeasurably below. But the souls of the guiltless passed to the Elysian Fields, where each followed the chosen pursuit of his former life in a land of spring, sunlight, happiness, and song. And by the Fields there flowed the river Lethe, from which the souls of those that were to return to the earth in other bodies drank oblivion of their former lives. =46. The Islands of the Blest.= Homer mentions, elsewhere, an Elysium of the western seas, which is a happy land, "where life is easiest for men: no snow is there, nor yet great storm, nor any rain; but always ocean sendeth forth the breeze of the shrill West to blow cool on men."[51] Hither favored heroes pass without dying, and live under the happy rule of Rhadamanthus. The Elysium of Hesiod and Pindar is likewise in the Western Ocean, on the Islands of the Blessed, the Fortunate Isles. From this dream of a western Elysium may have sprung the legend of the island Atlantis. That blissful region may have been wholly imaginary. It is, however, not impossible that the myth had its origin in the reports of storm-driven mariners who had caught a glimpse of occidental lands. In these Islands of the Blest, the Titans, released from Tartarus after many years, dwelt under the golden sway of the white-haired Cronus.[52] There was no heavy heat, no cold, The dwellers there wax never old, Nor wither with the waning time, But each man keeps that age he had When first he won the fairy clime. The night falls never from on high, Nor ever burns the heat of noon; But such soft light eternally Shines, as in silver dawns of June Before the sun hath climbed the sky! * * * * * All these their mirth and pleasure made Within the plain Elysian, The fairest meadow that may be, With all green fragrant trees for shade, And every scented wind to fan, And sweetest flowers to strew the lea; The soft winds are their servants fleet To fetch them every fruit at will And water from the river chill; And every bird that singeth sweet, Throstle, and merle, and nightingale, Brings blossoms from the dewy vale,-- Lily, and rose, and asphodel,-- With these doth each guest twine his crown And wreathe his cup, and lay him down Beside some friend he loveth well.[53] =47. Pluto (Hades)= was brother of Jupiter. To him fell the sovereignty of the lower world and the shades of the dead. In his character of Hades, the viewless, he is hard and inexorable. By virtue of the helmet or cap given him by the Cyclopes, he moved hither and yon, dark, unseen,--hated of mortals. He was, however, lord not only of all that descends to the bowels of the earth, but of all that proceeds from the earth; and in the latter aspect he was revered as Pluto, or the giver of wealth. At his pleasure he visited the realms of day,--as when he carried off Proserpina; occasionally he journeyed to Olympus; but otherwise he ignored occurrences in the upper world, nor did he suffer his subjects, by returning, to find them out. Mortals, when they called on his name, beat the ground with their hands and, averting their faces, sacrificed black sheep to him and to his queen. Among the Romans he is known also as Dis, Orcus, and Tartarus. But Orcus is rather Death, or the Underworld, than ruler of the shades. [Illustration: FIG. 38. HADES] =48. Proserpina (Persephone)= was the daughter of Ceres and Jupiter. She was queen of Hades,--a name applied both to the ruler of the shades and to his realm. When she is goddess of spring, dear to mankind, Proserpina bears a cornucopia overflowing with flowers, and revisits the earth in duly recurring season. But when she is goddess of death, sitting beside Pluto, she directs the Furies, and, like her husband, is cruel, unyielding, inimical to youth and life and hope. In the story of her descent to Hades will be found a further account of her attributes and fortunes. =49. The Lesser Divinities of the Underworld= were: 1. _Æacus_, _Rhadamanthus_, and _Minos_, sons of Jupiter and judges of the shades in the lower world. Æacus had been during his earthly life a righteous king of the island of Ægina. Minos had been a famous lawgiver and king of Crete. The life of Rhadamanthus was not eventful. 2. _The Furies_ (_Erinyes_ or _Eumenides_), Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megæra, born of the blood of the wounded Uranus. They were attendants of Proserpina. They punished with the frenzies of remorse the crimes of those who had escaped from or defied public justice. The heads of the Furies were wreathed with serpents. 3. _Hecate_, a mysterious divinity sometimes identified with Diana and sometimes with Proserpina. As Diana represents the moonlight splendor of night, so Hecate represents its darkness and terrors. She haunted crossroads and graveyards, was the goddess of sorcery and witchcraft, and wandered by night, seen only by the dogs whose barking told of her approach. [Illustration: FIG. 39. DEATH, SLEEP, AND HERMES LAYING A BODY IN THE TOMB] 4. _Sleep_, or _Somnus (Hypnos)_, and _Death (Thanatos)_, sons of Night.[54] They dwell in subterranean darkness. The former brings to mortals solace and fair dreams, and can lull the shining eyes of Jove himself; the latter closes forever the eyes of men. _Dreams_, too, are sons of Night.[55] They dwell beside their brother Death, along the Western Sea. Their abode has two gates,--one of ivory, whence issue false and flattering visions; the other of horn, through which true dreams and noble pass to men.[56] FOOTNOTES: [44] For interpretation and illustration, see corresponding sections of Commentary. [45] Iliad, 22, 482; 9, 568; 20, 61. [46] Odyssey, 10, 508; 11, 20; 24, 1. [47] Sophocles, [OE]dipus Rex, 177. [48] Æneid, 6, 295. [49] From The Garden of Proserpine, by A. C. Swinburne. [50] Æneid, 6. [51] Odyssey, 4, 561. [52] Hes. Works and Days, 169. [53] From The Fortunate Islands, by Andrew Lang. [54] Iliad, 14, 231; 16, 672. [55] Odyssey, 24, 12; 19, 560. Æneid, 6, 893. Ovid, Metam. 11, 592. [56] For genealogical table, see Commentary. CHAPTER V THE GODS OF THE WATERS[57] [Illustration: FIG. 40. POSEIDON] =50. The Older Dynasty.= There were two dynasties of the sea. The Older, which flourished during the rule of Cronus, was founded by the Titans, _Oceanus_ and _Tethys_, from whom sprang three thousand rivers and ocean-nymphs unnumbered. The palace of Oceanus was beyond the limits of the bountiful earth,[58] surrounded by gardens and all things fair. From ages immemorial another dweller in the glimmering caves of Ocean was _Pontus_ (the _deep sea_ or the _waterway_), who became, by Mother Earth, father of Nereus. This _Nereus_, a genial old man of the sea, was distinguished for his prophetic gifts, his knowledge, his love of truth and justice. Taking to wife one of the daughters of Oceanus, the nymph Doris, he was blessed with a family of fifty fair daughters, the _Nereïds_.[59] Of these daughters the most famous are Panope, Galatea, Thetis, and Amphitrite; the last of whom gave her hand to Neptune (Poseidon), brother of Jove, and thus united the Older and the Younger dynasties of the sea. =51.= Of the =Younger Dynasty= of the waters _Neptune_ and _Amphitrite_ were the founders. Neptune's palace was in the depths of the sea, near Ægæ in Eub[oe]a; but he made his home on Olympus when he chose. The symbol of his power was the trident, or three-pronged spear, with which he could shatter rocks, call forth or subdue storms, and shake the shores of earth. He created the horse and was the patron of horse races. His own steeds were brazen-hoofed and golden-maned. They drew his chariot over the sea, which became smooth before him, while dolphins and other monsters of the deep gamboled about his path. In his honor black and white bulls, white boars, and rams were sacrificed. [Illustration: FIG. 41. WEDDING OF POSEIDON AND AMPHITRITE] =52. The Lesser Divinities of= =the Waters=[60] were: 1. _Triton_, the son of Neptune and Amphitrite, trumpeter of Ocean. By his blast on the sea-shell he stirred or allayed the waves. 2. _Proteus_, an attendant and, according to certain traditions, a son of Neptune. Like Nereus, he was a little old man of the sea. He possessed the prophetic gift and the power of changing his shape at will. 3. _The Harpies_, foul creatures, with heads of maidens, bodies, wings, and claws of birds, and faces pale with hunger. They are the offspring of Thaumas, a son of Pontus and Gæa. 4. The uncanny offspring of Phorcys and Ceto,--children of Pontus,--who rejoiced in the horrors of the sea: _a. The Grææ_, three hoary witches, with one eye between them which they used in turn. _b. The Gorgons_, whose glance was icy death. _c. The Sirens_, muses of the sea and of death, who by their sweet singing enticed seafarers to destruction. _d. Scylla_, also destructive to mariners, a six-headed monster whose lower limbs were serpents and ever-barking dogs. [Illustration: FIG. 42. TRITON CARRYING OFF A NYMPH] 5. _Atlas_, who stood in the far west, bearing on his shoulders the vault of heaven. He was once regarded as a divinity of the sea, but later as a mountain. He was the son of Iapetus and the father of three classes of nymphs,--the Pleiads, the Hyads, and, according to some stories, the Hesperids. The last-mentioned, assisted by their mother Hesperis and a dragon, guarded the golden apples of the tree that had sprung up to grace the wedding of Jove and Juno. The daughters of Atlas were not themselves divinities of the sea. 6. _The Water-Nymphs._ Beside the _Oceanids_ and the _Nereïds_, who have already been mentioned, of most importance were the _Naiads_, daughters of Jupiter. They presided over brooks and fountains. Other lesser powers of the Ocean were Glaucus, Leucothea, and Melicertes, of whom more is said in another section. In the following statement of the difference between ancient and modern conceptions of nature, the poet lends new charm to the fabled rulers of the sea. The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are upgathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.[61] FOOTNOTES: [57] For references to poetry and works of art, see corresponding sections of Commentary. [58] Iliad, 14, 303. [59] Iliad, 18, 30-50. [60] For genealogical table, see Commentary. [61] Wordsworth, Miscellaneous Sonnets. CHAPTER VI THE ROMAN DIVINITIES =53. Gods Common to Greece and Italy.= Of the deities already mentioned, the following, although they were later identified with certain Greek gods and goddesses[62] whose characteristics and adventures they assumed, had developed an independent worship in Italy: Jupiter (Zeus); Juno (Hera); Minerva (Athene); Diana (Artemis); Mars (Ares); Venus (Aphrodite); Vulcanus, or Mulciber (Hephæstus); Vesta (Hestia); Mercurius (Hermes); Neptunus (Poseidon); Ceres (Demeter); Liber (Bacchus); Libera (Persephone); Magna Mater, the great mother of the gods (Rhea, Cybele); Orcus (Pluto, Hades); Tellus, the Earth (Gæa). =54. Italian Gods.= There were also divinities always peculiar to Roman mythology.[63] Of these the more important are: 1. _Saturn_, an ancient Italian deity (as his name indicates) of seeds and sowing, the introducer of agriculture. Fanciful attempts were made to identify him with the Grecian god Cronus; and it was fabled that after his dethronement by Jupiter he fled to Italy, where he reigned during the Golden Age. In memory of his dominion, the feast of Saturnalia was held every year in the winter season. Then all public business was suspended; declarations of war and criminal executions were postponed; friends made presents to one another; and even slaves were indulged with great liberties. A feast was given them at which they sat at table while their masters served, to show the natural equality of men, and that all things belonged equally to all in the reign of Saturn. The wife of Saturn was _Ops_, goddess of sowing and harvest (later confounded with Rhea). Another Roman deity of earth was _Consus_, whose name means "the keeper of the stores." He is the god of the stored-up harvest; and his altar is said to have been discovered underground by Romulus. It was in the Circus Maximus and was uncovered only on the days of his festivals, the harvest home of August and the granary feast of December. The underground altar is a reminiscence of the ancient custom of storing corn underground or at any rate of burying the sacrifices offered to deities of the earth. The harvest festival was celebrated with horse races, which, originating in a very simple way with the primitive farmers, became in time the distinctive feature of the Circus Maximus. [Illustration: FIG. 43. BEARDED JANUS] 2. _Janus_, whose name is derived from the Latin root which means "going" and is connected with _janua_, a passage or door, is the most distinctive and most important of the native Italic deities. He is not only the god of doors, or material openings, but more truly of beginnings,--especially of good beginnings which insure good endings. Hence undoubtedly he is represented as facing both ways; for the Romans very properly believed that beginning and ending were of the same piece, and that an undertaking ill begun could not achieve success. His temple, or covered passage, in the Forum had doors facing east and west for the beginning and ending of the day; and between stood his two-faced statue. In every home the morning prayer was addressed to him; in every domestic enterprise his assistance was implored. He was the god, also, of the opening year; hence his month, January, on the first day of which words only of good omen were uttered, and gifts were given (_strenae_, a name still preserved in the French word for New Year's presents, _étrennes_), and, for good luck, some stroke of work was bestowed on every undertaking planned for the year. He was publicly invoked not only on New Year's day, but on the first day of each month, by priests and people alike; and in these prayers his name was mentioned even before that of Jupiter. He is the god of civilization, and is sometimes called Consivius, or the Sower.[64] Of course he was invoked when wars were commenced. And during their progress the doors of his temple stood always open. In peace they were closed; but they were shut only once between the reign of Numa and that of Augustus. It was natural that his worship should gradually absorb that of Sol, the Sun, who opens the day and completes the year and blesses with his rays the seeds that are sown; and such was the case. But Janus and his wife Jana were not originally connected even in name with Dianus (Sol, Apollo) and Diana (the moon). 3. _Quirinus_, a war-god, said to be no other than Romulus, the founder of Rome, exalted after his death to a place among the immortals. 4. _Bellona_, a war-goddess. 5. _Lucina_, the goddess who brings to light, hence the goddess of childbirth: a title bestowed upon both Juno and Diana. 6. _Terminus_, the god of landmarks. His statue was a rude stone or post, set in the ground to mark the boundaries of fields. 7. _Faunus_, the grandson of Saturn. He was worshiped as a god of fields and shepherds and also of prophecy. His name in the plural, Fauni, expressed a class of gamesome deities, like the Satyrs of the Greeks. There was also a goddess called _Fauna_, or _Bona Dea_ (good goddess). To Maia, wife of Vulcan, this designation, _Bona Dea_, was sometimes applied. 8. _Sylvanus_, presiding over forest-glades and plowed fields. 9. _Pales_, the goddess presiding over cattle and pastures. _Flora_, the goddess of flowers. _Pomona_, presiding over fruit trees. _Vertumnus_, the husband of Pomona, was guardian of fruit trees, gardens, and vegetables. Pomona loves the orchard, And Liber loves the vine, And Pales loves the straw-built shed Warm with the breath of kine; And Venus loves the whisper Of plighted youth and maid In April's ivory moonlight, Beneath the chestnut shade.[65] 10. _The Penates_, gods who were supposed to attend to the welfare and prosperity of the family. Their name is derived from Penus, the storehouse or inner chamber, which was sacred to them. Every master of a family was the priest to the Penates of his own house. The _Lares_, or _Lars_, were also tutelary deities, but they differed from the Penates since they were regarded as the deified spirits of ancestors, who watched over and protected their descendants. The Lares were more particularly divinities presiding over the household or family; but there were also public Lares, or guardian spirits of the city, Lares of the precincts, Lares of the fields, Lares of the highways, and Lares of the sea. To the Penates, to the domestic Lares (whose images were preserved in a private shrine), and to the _Manes_ (shades that hovered over the place of burial), the family prayers of the Romans were addressed. Other spirits, the _Lemures_ and _Larvæ_, more nearly correspond to our ghosts. [Illustration: FIG. 44. GENIUS LOCI] The Romans believed that every man had his _Genius_ and every woman her _Juno_; that is, a spirit who had given them being and was regarded as a protector through life. On birthdays men made offerings to their Genius, women to their Juno. 11. Other Italian deities were the gods of the rivers, such as _Father Tiber_, and the goddesses of the springs and brooks, such as _Juturna_, whose pool in the Forum was sacred. This nymph was also a goddess of healing and, according to later tradition, was beloved by Jupiter. Earlier stories, however, make her the wife of Janus and the mother of _Fontus_, the god of flowing waters, who had an altar on the Janiculan hill and was worshiped at an annual festival called the Fontinalia, when the wells were wreathed with garlands. Held in especial honor were the _Camenæ_, fountain-nymphs, goddesses of prophecy and healing (later identified with the Muses). The leader of them was _Carmenta_, who sang both the future and the past. With her is sometimes associated the nymph _Egeria_, from whom the Roman king Numa is said to have received instruction concerning the forms of worship which he introduced. 12. The Romans worshiped, also, _Sol_, the Sun; _Luna_, the Moon; _Mater Matuta_, the Dawn; _Juventus_, Youth; _Fides_, Honesty; _Feronia_, goddess of groves and freedmen; and a great number of personified abstractions of conduct and experience, such as Fortune and Health. Many of these Latin divinities were derived from the earlier cult and ritual of the Etruscan inhabitants of Italy. FOOTNOTES: [62] Names of the corresponding Greek divinities are in parentheses. [63] For illustrative material, see Commentary. [64] Gellius, 5, 12. Ovid, Fasti, 1, 179. Macrobius, Sat. 1, 9-15. [65] From Macaulay's Prophecy of Capys. CHAPTER VII MYTHS OF THE GREAT DIVINITIES OF HEAVEN =55. Myths of Jupiter and Juno.= Not a few of the adventures of Jupiter turn upon his love affairs. Among the immortals his queen had rivals in his affection; for instance, Latona, a goddess of darkness, daughter of the Titans C[oe]us and Ph[oe]be. This goddess became, as we have already seen, the mother of Apollo and Diana. The ire of Juno against her was never appeased. In consequence of it, numerous trials were visited upon Latona, some of which find a place among the adventures of her children. [Illustration: FIG. 45. GANYMEDE] =56. Love Affairs of Jupiter.= Not only with immortals but with mortals were Jupiter's relations sometimes of a dubious character. His devotion to the beautiful daughters of men involved him in frequent altercations with his justly jealous spouse. Of his fondness for Danaë, whom he approached in a shower of gold, particulars are given in the story of her son Perseus; of his love for Alcmene, the granddaughter of that Perseus, we are informed in the myths of her son Hercules; and of his attentions to Leda, whom he wooed in guise of a swan, we learn in the accounts of their children Pollux and Helen. Other love passages, upon which narratives depend, concern Io, Callisto, Europa, Semele, Ægina, and Antiope. [Illustration: GREECE IN THE FIFTH CENTURY B.C.] =57. Io=[66] was of divine ancestry. Her father was the river-god Inachus, son of Oceanus. It is said that Juno one day, perceiving the skies suddenly overcast, surmised that her husband had raised a cloud to hide some escapade. She brushed away the darkness and saw him on the banks of a glassy river with a beautiful heifer standing near. Juno suspected, with reason, that the heifer's form concealed some fair nymph of mortal mold. It was Io, whom Jupiter, when he became aware of the approach of his wife, had changed into that form. [Illustration: FIG. 46. HERMES KILLS ARGUS] The ox-eyed goddess joined her husband, noticed the heifer, praised its beauty, and asked whose it was and of what herd. Jupiter, to stop questions, replied that it was a fresh creation from the earth. Juno begged it as a gift. What could the king of gods and men do? He was loath to surrender his sweetheart to his wife; yet how refuse so trifling a present as a heifer? He could not, without exciting suspicion, and he therefore consented. The goddess delivered the heifer to Argus, to be strictly watched. Now Argus had a hundred eyes in his head, and never went to sleep with more than two at a time, so that he kept watch of Io constantly. He suffered her to graze through the day and at night tied a rope round her neck. She would have stretched out her arms to implore freedom of Argus, but that she had no arms to stretch out and her voice was a bellow. She yearned in vain to make herself known to her father. At length she bethought herself of writing, and inscribed her name--it was a short one--with her hoof on the sand. Inachus recognized it, and, discovering that his daughter whom he had long sought in vain was hidden under this disguise, mourned over her. While he thus lamented, Argus, observing, drove her away and took his seat on a bank from whence he could see in every direction. [Illustration: FIG. 47. IO, ARGUS, AND MERCURY] Jupiter, grieved by the sufferings of his mistress, sent Mercury to dispatch Argus. Mercury took his sleep-producing wand and presented himself on earth as a shepherd driving his flock. As he strolled, he blew upon his syrinx or Pandean pipes. Argus listened with delight. "Young man," said he, "come and take a seat by me on this stone. There is no better place for your flock to graze in than hereabouts, and here is a pleasant shade such as shepherds love." Mercury sat down, talked, told stories till it grew late, and played upon his pipes his most soothing strains, hoping to lull the watchful eyes to sleep, but in vain; for Argus still contrived to keep some of his eyes open, though he shut the rest. But among other stories, Mercury told him how the instrument on which he played was invented. "There was a certain nymph," said he, "whose name was Syrinx,--much beloved by the satyrs and spirits of the wood. She would have none of them, but was a faithful worshiper of Diana and followed the chase. Pan, meeting her one day, wooed her with many compliments, likening her to Diana of the silver bow. Without stopping to hear him she ran away. But on the bank of the river he overtook her. She called for help on her friends, the water-nymphs. They heard and consented. Pan threw his arms around what he supposed to be the form of the nymph and found he embraced only a tuft of reeds. As he breathed a sigh, the air sounded through the reeds and produced a plaintive melody. Whereupon the god, charmed with the novelty and with the sweetness of the music, said, 'Thus, then, at least, you shall be mine.' Taking some of the reeds of unequal lengths and placing them together, side by side, he made an instrument and called it Syrinx, in honor of the nymph." Before Mercury had finished his story he saw the eyes of Argus all asleep. At once he slew him and set Io free. The eyes of Argus Juno took and scattered as ornaments on the tail of her peacock, where they remain to this day. But the vengeance of Juno was not yet satiated. She sent a gadfly to torment Io, who, in her flight, swam through the sea, named after her, Ionian. Afterward, roaming over many lands, she reached at last the banks of the Nile. Then Jupiter interceded for her; and upon his engaging not to pay her any further attention, Juno consented to restore her to her form. In a poem dedicated to Leigh Hunt, by Keats, the following allusion to the story of Pan and Syrinx occurs: So did he feel who pulled the boughs aside, That we might look into a forest wide, ... Telling us how fair trembling Syrinx fled Arcadian Pan, with such a fearful dread. Poor nymph--poor Pan--how he did weep to find Nought but a lovely sighing of the wind Along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain, Full of sweet desolation, balmy pain. =58. Callisto= of Arcadia was another maiden who excited the jealousy of Juno. Her the goddess changed into a bear. Often, frightened by the dogs, Callisto, though lately a huntress, fled in terror from the hunters. Often, too, she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she was, she feared the bears. One day a youth espied her as he was hunting. She saw him and recognized him as her son Arcas, grown to manhood. She stopped and felt inclined to embrace him. He, alarmed, raised his hunting spear and was on the point of transfixing her, but Jupiter arrested the crime and, snatching away both of them, placed them in the heavens as the Great and Little Bear. Juno, enraged at seeing her rival so set in honor, hastened to ancient Tethys and Oceanus and, complaining that she was supplanted in Heaven, cried, "So do my punishments result--such is the extent of my power! I forbade her to wear human form,--she and her hateful son are placed among the stars. Better that she should have resumed her former shape, as I permitted Io to do. Perhaps my husband means to take her to wife, and put me away! But you, my foster parents, if you feel for me, and see with displeasure this unworthy treatment of me, show it, I beseech you, by forbidding this guilty couple from coming into your waters." The powers of the Ocean assented, and consequently the two constellations of the Great and Little Bear move round and round in the neighborhood of the pole, but never sink, as do the other stars, beneath the Ocean.[67] =59. Europa= was the daughter of Agenor, king of Ph[oe]nicia, son of the god Neptune. The story of Jupiter's love for her is thus told by the idyllic poet, Moschus: To Europa, princess of Asia, once on a time, a sweet dream was sent by Cypris.... Then she beheld two continents at strife for her sake, Asia and the further shore, both in the shape of women. Of these one had the guise of a stranger, the other of a lady of that land, and closer still she clung about her maiden, and kept saying how she was her mother, and herself had nursed Europa. But that other with mighty hands, and forcefully, kept haling the maiden, nothing loth; declaring that, by the will of ægis-bearing Jupiter, Europa was destined to be her prize. But Europa leaped forth from her strown bed in terror, with beating heart, in such clear vision had she beheld the dream.... And she said, "Ah! who was the alien woman that I beheld in my sleep? How strange a longing for her seized my heart, yea, and how graciously she herself did welcome me, and regard me as it had been her own child! Ye blessed gods, I pray you, prosper the fulfillment of the dream!" Therewith she arose, and began to seek the dear maidens of her company, girls of like age with herself, born in the same year, beloved of her heart, the daughters of noble sires, with whom she was always wont to sport, when she was arrayed for the dance, or when she would bathe her bright body at the mouths of the rivers, or would gather fragrant lilies on the leas.... Now the girls, so soon as they were come to the flowering meadows, took great delight in various sorts of flowers, whereof one would pluck sweet-breathed narcissus, another the hyacinth, another the violet, a fourth the creeping thyme; and on the ground there fell many petals of the meadows rich with spring. Others, again, were emulously gathering the fragrant tresses of the yellow crocus; but in the midst of them all the princess culled with her hand the splendor of the crimson rose, and shone preëminent among them all like the foam-born goddess among the Graces. Verily, she was not for long to set her heart's delight upon the flowers.... For of a truth, the son of Cronus, so soon as he beheld her, was troubled, and his heart was subdued by the sudden shafts of Cypris, who alone can conquer even Jupiter. Therefore, both to avoid the wrath of jealous Juno, and being eager to beguile the maiden's tender heart, he concealed his godhead, and changed his shape, and became a bull.... [Illustration: FIG. 48. EUROPA ON THE BULL] He came into the meadow, and his coming terrified not the maidens, nay, within them all wakened desire to draw nigh the lovely bull, and to touch him, and his heavenly fragrance was scattered afar, exceeding even the sweet perfume of the meadows. And he stood before the feet of fair Europa, and kept licking her neck, and cast his spell over the maiden. And she still caressed him, and gently with her hands she wiped away the deep foam from his lips, and kissed the bull. Then he lowed so gently, ye would think ye heard the Mygdonian flute uttering a dulcet sound. He bowed himself before her feet, and bending back his neck, he gazed on Europa, and showed her his broad back. Then she spake among her deep-tressed maidens, saying,-- "Come, dear playmates, maidens of like age with me, let us mount the bull here and take our pastime, for, truly, he will bear us on his back, and carry all of us! And how mild he is, and dear, and gentle to behold, and no whit like other bulls! A mind as honest as a man's possesses him, and he lacks nothing but speech." So she spake, and smiling, she sat down on the back of the bull, and the others were about to follow her. But the bull leaped up immediately, now he had gotten her that he desired, and swiftly he sped to the deep. The maiden turned, and called again and again to her dear playmates, stretching out her hands, but they could not reach her. The strand he gained, and forward he sped like a dolphin, faring with unwetted hooves over the wide waves. And the sea, as he came, grew smooth, and the sea monsters gamboled around, before the feet of Jupiter; and the dolphin rejoiced, and rising from the deeps, he tumbled on the swell of the sea. The Nereïds arose out of the salt water, and all of them came on in orderly array, riding on the backs of sea beasts. And himself, the thunderous shaker of the world, appeared above the sea, and made smooth the wave, and guided his brother on the salt sea path, and round him were gathered the Tritons, these hoarse trumpeters of the deep, blowing from their long conchs a bridal melody. Meanwhile, Europa, riding on the back of the divine bull, with one hand clasped the beast's great horn, and with the other caught up the purple fold of her garment, lest it might trail and be wet in the hoar sea's infinite spray. And her deep robe was swelled out by the winds, like the sail of a ship, and lightly still did waft the maiden onward. But when she was now far off from her own country, and neither sea-beat headland nor steep hill could now be seen, but above, the air, and beneath, the limitless deep, timidly she looked around, and uttered her voice, saying,-- [Illustration: FIG. 49. NEREÏDS ON SEA BEASTS] "Whither bearest thou me, bull god? What art thou? How dost thou fare on thy feet through the path of the sea beasts, nor fearest the sea? The sea is a path meet for swift ships that traverse the brine, but bulls dread the salt sea ways. What drink is sweet to thee, what food shalt thou find from the deep? Nay, art thou then some god, for godlike are these deeds of thine." ... So spake she, and the horned bull made answer to her again: "Take courage, maiden, and dread not the swell of the deep. Behold, I am Jupiter, even I, though, closely beheld, I wear the form of a bull, for I can put on the semblance of what thing I will. But 'tis love of thee that has compelled me to measure out so great a space of the salt sea, in a bull's shape. So Crete shall presently receive thee, Crete that was mine own foster-mother, where thy bridal chamber shall be."[68] According to tradition, from this princess the continent of Europe acquired its name. Her three sons are famous in Greek myth: Minos, who became king of Crete, and after his death a judge in the lower world; Rhadamanthus, who also was regarded as king and judge in the world of ghosts; and Sarpedon, who was ancestor of the Lycians. The adventures of Europa's brother Cadmus, who by the command of his father went forth in quest of the lost maiden, fall under the myths of Mars.[69] [Illustration: FIG. 50. BACCHUS EMBRACING SEMELE] =60. Semele= was the daughter of Cadmus, founder of Thebes. She was descended, through both parents, from the gods; for her mother Harmonia was daughter to Mars and the laughter-loving Venus. To Semele Jupiter had appeared, and had paid court in unostentatious manner and simple guise. But Juno, to gratify her resentment against this new rival for her lord's affections, contrived a plan for her destruction. Assuming the form of Beroë, the aged nurse of Semele, she insinuated doubts whether it was indeed Jove himself who came as a lover. Heaving a sigh, she said, "I hope it will turn out so, but I can't help being afraid. People are not always what they pretend to be. If he is indeed Jove, make him give some proof of it. Ask him to come arrayed in all his splendors, such as he wears in Heaven. That will put the matter beyond a doubt." Semele was persuaded to try the experiment. She asks a favor, without naming what it is. Jove gives his promise, and confirms it with the irrevocable oath, attesting the river Styx, terrible to the gods themselves. Then she made known her request. The god would have stopped her as she spake, but she was too quick for him. The words escaped, and he could neither unsay his promise nor her request. In deep distress he left her and returned to the upper regions. There he clothed himself in his splendors, not putting on all his terrors, as when he overthrew the giants, but what is known among the gods as his lesser panoply. With thunders and lightnings he entered the chamber of Semele. Her mortal frame could not endure the splendors of the immortal radiance. She was consumed to ashes.[70] Her son was the god Bacchus.[71] Semele, in the blissful seats of Heaven, whither she was transported by the sorrowful Jove, has been represented as recounting thus the story of her doom: What were the garden-bowers of Thebes to me? What cared I for their dances and their feasts, Whose heart awaited an immortal doom? The Greek youths mocked me, since I shunned in scorn Them and their praises of my brows and hair. The light girls pointed after me, who turned Soul-sick from their unending fooleries.... There came a change: a glory fell to me. No more 'twas Semele, the lonely girl, But Jupiter's Beloved, Semele. With human arms the god came clasping me: New life streamed from his presence; and a voice, That scarce could curb itself to the smooth Greek, Now and anon swept forth in those deep nights, Thrilling my flesh with awe; mysterious words-- I knew not what; hints of unearthly things That I had felt on solemn summer noons, When sleeping Earth dreamed music, and the heart Went crooning a low song it could not learn, But wandered over it, as one who gropes For a forgotten chord upon a lyre. Yea, Jupiter! But why this mortal guise, Wooing as if he were a milk-faced boy? Did I lack lovers? Was my beauty dulled, The golden hair turned dross, the lithe limbs shrunk? The deathless longings tamed, that I should seethe My soul in love like any shepherd girl? One night he sware to grant whate'er I asked: And straight I cried, "To know thee as thou art! To hold thee on my heart as Juno does! Come in thy thunder--kill me with one fierce Divine embrace!--Thine oath!--Now, Earth, at last!" The Heavens shot one swift sheet of lurid flame; The world crashed: from a body scathed and torn The soul leapt through, and found his breast, and died. Died?--So the Theban maidens think, and laugh, Saying, "She had her wish, that Semele!" But sitting here upon Olympus' height, I look down, through that oval ring of stars, And see the far-off Earth, a twinkling speck-- Dust-mote whirled up from the Sun's chariot wheel-- And pity their small hearts that hold a man As if he were a god; or know the god-- Or dare to know him--only as a man! O human love! art thou forever blind?[72] =61. Ægina.= The extent to which those who were concerned only indirectly in Jupiter's love affairs might yet be involved in the consequences of them is illustrated by the fortunes of Ægina. This maiden, the daughter of Asopus, a river-god, attracted the attention of Jupiter, who straightway ran off with her. Now, on the one hand, Sisyphus, king of Corinth, having witnessed the intrigue, was indiscreet enough to disclose it. Forthwith the vengeance of the king of gods and men fell upon him. He was condemned to Hades and, attempting to escape thence, had resort to a series of deceptions that resulted in his eternal punishment.[73] On the other hand, the inhabitants of the island that had the misfortune to bear Ægina's name incurred the displeasure of Juno, who devastated their land with a plague. The following account of this calamity is placed in the mouth of Æacus, king of the island:[74] "At the beginning the sky seemed to settle down upon the earth and thick clouds shut in the heated air. For four months together a deadly south wind prevailed. The disorder affected the wells and springs. Thousands of snakes crept over the land and shed their poison in the fountains. The force of the disease was first spent on the lower animals,--dogs, cattle, sheep, and birds. The oxen fell in the midst of their work. The wool dropped from the bleating sheep. The horse groaned at his stall and died an inglorious death. Everything languished; dead bodies lay in the roads, the fields, and the woods; the air was poisoned by them. Next the disease attacked the country people, and then the dwellers in the city. At first the cheek was flushed and the breath drawn with difficulty. The tongue grew rough and swelled, and the dry mouth stood open, with its veins enlarged, and gasped for the air. Men could not bear the heat of their clothes or their beds, but preferred to lie on the bare ground. Nor could the physicians help, for the disease attacked them also. At last men learned to look upon death as the only deliverer from disease. All restraint laid aside, they crowded round the wells and fountains, and drank, without quenching thirst, till they died. On all sides lay my people strewn like over-ripened apples beneath the tree, or acorns under the storm-shaken oak. You see yonder a temple on the height. It is sacred to Jupiter. Often, while the priest made ready for sacrifice, the victim fell, struck down by disease without waiting for the blow. At length all reverence for sacred things was lost. Bodies were thrown out unburied, wood was wanting for funeral piles, men fought with one another for the possession of them. Finally there were none left to mourn; sons and husbands, old men and youths, perished alike unlamented. [Illustration: FARNESE BULL] "Standing before the altar, I raised my eyes to Heaven. 'O Jupiter,' I said, 'if thou art indeed my father, give me back my people, or take me also away!' At these words a clap of thunder was heard. 'I accept the omen,' I cried. By chance there grew by the place where I stood an oak with wide-spreading branches, sacred to Jupiter. I observed on it a troop of ants busy with their labor. Observing their numbers with admiration, I said, 'Give me, O father, citizens as numerous as these, and replenish my empty city.' The tree shook, and the branches rustled, though no wind agitated them. Night came on. The tree stood before me in my dreams, with its numerous branches all covered with living, moving creatures, which, falling to the ground, appeared to gain in size, and by and by to stand erect, and finally to assume the human form. Then I awoke. My attention was caught by the sound of many voices without. While I began to think I was yet dreaming, Telamon, my son, throwing open the temple gates, exclaimed, 'Father, approach, and behold things surpassing even your hopes!' I went forth; I saw a multitude of men, such as I had seen in my dream. While I gazed with wonder and delight, they approached and, kneeling, hailed me as their king. I paid my vows to Jove, and proceeded to allot the vacant city to the new-born race. I called them Myrmidons from the ant (_myrmex_), from which they sprang. They are a diligent and industrious race, eager to gain, and tenacious of their gains." The Myrmidons were the soldiers of Achilles, the grandson of King Æacus, in the Trojan War. =62. Antiope= was, according to the Odyssey, another daughter of Asopus, therefore a sister of Ægina. But later poets make this darling of Jove daughter of Nycteus, king of Thebes. While she was engaged in the Mænad dances, Jupiter as a satyr wooed and won her. She bore him two sons, Amphion and Zethus, who, being exposed at birth on Mount Cithæron, grew up among the shepherds, not knowing their parentage. After various adventures Antiope fell into the hands of her uncle Lycus, the usurping king of Thebes, who, egged on by his wife Dirce, treated her with extreme cruelty. Finally, when doomed by Dirce to be dragged to death behind a bull, Antiope found means to inform her children of her kinship to them. As it happened, they had been ordered to execute the cruel sentence upon their mother. But with a band of their fellow herdsmen, they attacked and slew Lycus instead, and, tying Dirce by the hair of her head to a bull, let her perish by her own device.[75] While among the herdsmen, _Amphion_ had been the special care of Mercury, who gave him a lyre and taught him to play upon it. His brother Zethus had occupied himself in hunting and tending the flocks. Amphion himself is one of the most famous of mythical musicians. Having become king of Thebes, it is said that when he played on his lyre, stones moved of their own accord and took their places in the wall with which he was fortifying the city. [Illustration: FIG. 51. AMPHION AND ZETHUS] ... 'Tis said he had a tuneful tongue, Such happy intonation, Wherever he sat down and sung He left a small plantation; Wherever in a lonely grove He set up his forlorn pipes, The gouty oak began to move, And flounder into hornpipes. The mountain stirred its bushy crown, And, as tradition teaches, Young ashes pirouetted down Coquetting with young beeches; And briony-vine and ivy-wreath Ran forward to his rhyming, And from the valleys underneath Came little copses climbing. The linden broke her ranks and rent The woodbine wreaths that bind her, And down the middle, buzz! she went With all her bees behind her: The poplars, in long order due, With cypress promenaded, The shock-head willows, two and two, By rivers gallopaded. Came wet-shot alder from the wave, Came yews, a dismal coterie; Each plucked his one foot from the grave, Poussetting with a sloe-tree: Old elms came breaking from the vine, The vine streamed out to follow, And, sweating rosin, plumped the pine From many a cloudy hollow. And wasn't it a sight to see, When, ere his song was ended, Like some great landslip, tree by tree, The country-side descended; And shepherds from the mountain-eaves Looked down, half-pleased, half-frightened, As dashed about the drunken leaves The random sunshine lightened.[76] The musician's life was, however, not all harmony and happiness. Owing to the pride of his wife Niobe, daughter of King Tantalus, there befell him and his house a crushing calamity, which is narrated among the exploits of Apollo and Diana. =63. Jupiter, a Friend of Man.= The kindly interest evinced by the Thunderer toward mortals is displayed in the story of Baucis and Philemon. Once on a time Jupiter, in human shape, visited the land of Phrygia, and with him Mercury, without his wings. They presented themselves as weary travelers at many a door, seeking rest and shelter, but found all closed; for it was late, and the inhospitable inhabitants would not rouse themselves to open for their reception. At last a small thatched cottage received them, where Baucis, a pious old dame, and her husband Philemon had grown old together. Not ashamed of their poverty, they made it endurable by moderate desires and kind dispositions. When the two guests crossed the humble threshold and bowed their heads to pass under the low door, the old man placed a seat, on which Baucis, bustling and attentive, spread a cloth, and begged them to sit down. Then she raked out the coals from the ashes, kindled a fire, and prepared some pot-herbs and bacon for them. A beechen bowl was filled with warm water, that their guests might wash. While all was doing, they beguiled the time with conversation. The old woman with trembling hand set the table. One leg was shorter than the rest, but a piece of slate put under restored the level. When it was steady she rubbed the table down with sweet-smelling herbs. Upon it she set some of chaste Minerva's olives, some cornel berries preserved in vinegar, and added radishes and cheese, with eggs lightly cooked in the ashes. The meal was served in earthen dishes; and an earthenware pitcher, with wooden cups, stood beside them. When all was ready the stew, smoking hot, was set on the table. Some wine, not of the oldest, was added, and for dessert, apples and wild honey. Now while the repast proceeded, the old folks were astonished to see that the wine, as fast as it was poured out, renewed itself in the pitcher of its own accord. Struck with terror, Baucis and Philemon recognized their heavenly guests, fell on their knees, and with clasped hands implored forgiveness for their poor entertainment. There was an old goose, which they kept as the guardian of their humble cottage, and they bethought them to make this a sacrifice in honor of their guests. But the goose, too nimble for the old folk, with the aid of feet and wings eluded their pursuit and at last took shelter between the gods themselves. They forbade it to be slain, and spoke in these words: "We are gods. This inhospitable village shall pay the penalty of its impiety; you alone shall go free from the chastisement. Quit your house and come with us to the top of yonder hill." They hastened to obey. The country behind them was speedily sunk in a lake, only their own house left standing. While they gazed with wonder at the sight, that old house of theirs was changed. Columns took the place of the corner posts, the thatch grew yellow and appeared a gilded roof, the floors became marble, the doors were enriched with carving and ornaments of gold. Then spoke Jupiter in benignant accents: "Excellent old man, and woman worthy of such a husband, speak, tell us your wishes. What favor have you to ask of us?" Philemon took counsel with Baucis a few moments, then declared to the gods their common wish. "We ask to be priests and guardians of this thy temple, and that one and the same hour may take us both from life." Their prayer was granted. When they had attained a great age, as they stood one day before the steps of the sacred edifice and were telling the story of the place, Baucis saw Philemon begin to put forth leaves, and Philemon saw Baucis changing in like manner. While still they exchanged parting words, a leafy crown grew over their heads. "Farewell, dear spouse," they said together, and at the same moment the bark closed over their mouths. The Tyanean shepherd still shows the two trees,--an oak and a linden, standing side by side.[77] The story of Baucis and Philemon has been imitated by Swift in a burlesque style, the actors in the change being two wandering saints, and the house being changed into a church, of which Philemon is made the parson: ... They scarce had spoke, when, fair and soft, The roof began to mount aloft; Aloft rose every beam and rafter; The heavy wall climbed slowly after. The chimney widened and grew higher, Became a steeple with a spire. The kettle to the top was hoist, And there stood fastened to a joist, But with the upside down, to show Its inclination for below; In vain, for a superior force, Applied at bottom, stops its course; Doomed ever in suspense to dwell, 'Tis now no kettle, but a bell. A wooden jack, which had almost Lost by disuse the art to roast, A sudden alteration feels, Increased by new intestine wheels; And, what exalts the wonder more, The number made the motion slower; The flier, though 't had leaden feet, Turned round so quick you scarce could see 't; But slackened by some secret power, Now hardly moves an inch an hour. The jack and chimney, near allied, Had never left each other's side. The chimney to a steeple grown, The jack would not be left alone; But up against the steeple reared, Became a clock, and still adhered; And still its love to household cares By a shrill voice at noon declares, Warning the cook-maid not to burn That roast meat which it cannot turn. The groaning chair began to crawl, Like a huge snail, along the wall; There stuck aloft in public view, And with small change, a pulpit grew. A bedstead of the antique mode, Compact of timber many a load, Such as our ancestors did use, Was metamorphosed into pews, Which still their ancient nature keep By lodging folks disposed to sleep. =64. Juno's Best Gift.= What the queen of heaven deemed the greatest blessing reserved for mortals is narrated in the beautiful myth of Biton and Cleobis. One Cydippe, an ancient priestess of the white-armed goddess, had desired to behold the famous new statue of Hera at Argos. Her sons testified their affection for their mother by yoking themselves, since no oxen were at hand, to her chariot, and so dragging her through heat and dust many a weary league till they reached the temple, where stood the gold and ivory masterwork of Polyclitus. With admiration the devoted priestess and her pious sons were received by the populace crowding round the statue. The priest officiating in the solemn rites thought meet that so reverend a worshiper should herself approach the goddess,--ay, should ask of Hera some blessing on her faithful sons: ... Slowly old Cydippe rose and cried: "Hera, whose priestess I have been and am, Virgin and matron, at whose angry eyes Zeus trembles, and the windless plain of heaven With hyperborean echoes rings and roars, Remembering thy dread nuptials, a wise god, Golden and white in thy new-carven shape, Hear me! and grant for these my pious sons, Who saw my tears, and wound their tender arms Around me, and kissed me calm, and since no steer Stayed in the byre, dragged out the chariot old, And wore themselves the galling yoke, and brought Their mother to the feast of her desire, Grant them, O Hera, thy best gift of gifts!" Whereat the statue from its jeweled eyes Lightened, and thunder ran from cloud to cloud In heaven, and the vast company was hushed. But when they sought for Cleobis, behold, He lay there still, and by his brother's side Lay Biton, smiling through ambrosial curls, And when the people touched them they were dead.[78] =65. Myths of Minerva.= Minerva, as we have seen,[79] presided over the useful and ornamental arts, both those of men--such as agriculture and navigation--and those of women--spinning, weaving, and needlework. She was also a warlike divinity, but favored only defensive warfare. With Mars' savage love of violence and bloodshed she, therefore, had no sympathy. Athens, her chosen seat, her own city, was awarded to her as the prize of a peaceful contest with Neptune, who also aspired to it. In the reign of Cecrops, the first king of Athens, the two deities had contended for the possession of the city. The gods decreed that it should be awarded to the one who produced the gift most useful to mortals. Neptune gave the horse; Minerva produced the olive. The gods awarded the city to the goddess, and after her Greek appellation, Athena, it was named. =66. Arachne.= In another contest, a mortal dared to come into competition with the gray-eyed daughter of Jove. This was Arachne, a maiden who had attained such skill in the arts of carding and spinning, of weaving and embroidery, that the Nymphs themselves would leave their groves and fountains to come and gaze upon her work. It was not only beautiful when it was done, but beautiful also in the doing. To watch her one would have said that Minerva herself had taught her. But this she denied, and could not bear to be thought a pupil even of a goddess. "Let Minerva try her skill with mine," said she. "If beaten, I will pay the penalty." Minerva heard this and was displeased. Assuming the form of an old woman, she appeared to Arachne and kindly advised her to challenge her fellow mortals if she would, but at once to ask forgiveness of the goddess. Arachne bade the old dame to keep her counsel for others. "I am not afraid of the goddess; let her try her skill, if she dare venture." "She comes," said Minerva, and dropping her disguise, stood confessed. The Nymphs bent low in homage and all the bystanders paid reverence. Arachne alone was unterrified. A sudden color dyed her cheek, and then she grew pale; but she stood to her resolve and rushed on her fate. They proceed to the contest. Each takes her station and attaches the web to the beam. Then the slender shuttle is passed in and out among the threads. The reed with its fine teeth strikes up the woof into its place and compacts the web. Wool of Tyrian dye is contrasted with that of other colors, shaded off into one another so adroitly that the joining deceives the eye. And the effect is like the bow whose long arch tinges the heavens, formed by sunbeams reflected from the shower,[80] in which, where the colors meet they seem as one, but at a little distance from the point of contact are wholly different. Minerva wove the scene of her contest with Neptune (Poseidon). Twelve of the heavenly powers were represented, Jupiter, with august gravity, sitting in the midst. Neptune, the ruler of the sea, held his trident and appeared to have just smitten the earth, from which a horse had leaped forth. The bright-eyed goddess depicted herself with helmed head, her ægis covering her breast, as when she had created the olive tree with its berries and its dark green leaves. [Illustration: FIG. 52. CONTEST OF ATHENA AND POSEIDON] Amongst these leaves she made a Butterfly, With excellent device and wondrous slight, Fluttering among the olives wantonly, That seemed to live, so like it was in sight; The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie, The silken down with which his back is dight, His broad outstretchèd horns, his hairy thighs, His glorious colors, and his glistering eyes. Which when Arachne saw, as overlaid And masterèd with workmanship so rare, She stood astonished long, ne aught gainsaid; And with fast-fixèd eyes on her did stare.[81] So wonderful was the central circle of Minerva's web; and in the four corners were represented incidents illustrating the displeasure of the gods at such presumptuous mortals as had dared to contend with them. These were meant as warnings from Minerva to her rival to give up the contest before it was too late. But Arachne did not yield. She filled her web with subjects designedly chosen to exhibit the failings and errors of the gods. One scene represented Leda caressing the swan; and another, Danaë and the golden shower. Still another depicted Europa deceived by Jupiter under the disguise of a bull. Its appearance was that of a real bull, so naturally was it wrought and so natural the water in which it swam. With such subjects Arachne filled her canvas, wonderfully well done but strongly marking her presumption and impiety. Minerva could not forbear to admire, yet was indignant at the insult. She struck the web with her shuttle and rent it in pieces; then, touching the forehead of Arachne, she made her realize her guilt. It was more than mortal could bear; and forthwith Arachne hanged herself. "Live, guilty woman," said Minerva, "but that thou mayest preserve the memory of this lesson continue to hang, both thou and thy descendants, to all future times." Then, sprinkling her with the juices of aconite, the goddess transformed her into a spider, forever spinning the thread by which she is suspended.[82] =67. Myths of Mars.= The relations of Mars to other deities may be best illustrated by passages from the Iliad, which, generally speaking, presents him in no very favorable light. =68. Mars and Diomede.= In the war of the Greeks and the Trojans,[83] the cause of the former was espoused by Minerva, of the latter by Mars. Among the chieftains of the Greeks in a certain battle, Diomede, son of Tydeus, was prominent. Now when Mars, scourge of mortals, beheld noble Diomede, he made straight at him. ... And when they were come nigh in onset on one another, first Mars thrust over the yoke and horses' reins with spear of bronze, eager to take away his life. But the bright-eyed goddess Minerva with her hand seized the spear and thrust it up over the car, to spend itself in vain. Next Diomede of the loud war cry attacked with spear of bronze; and Minerva drave it home against Mars' nethermost belly, where his taslets were girt about him. There smote he him and wounded him, rending through his fair skin,--and plucked forth the spear again. Then brazen Mars bellowed loud as nine thousand warriors or ten thousand cry in battle as they join in strife and fray. Thereat trembling gat hold of Achæans and Trojans for fear, so mightily bellowed Mars insatiate of battle. [Illustration: FIG. 53. ATHENA] Even as gloomy mist appeareth from the clouds when after heat a stormy wind ariseth, even so to Tydeus' son Diomede brazen Mars appeared amid clouds, faring to wide Heaven. Swiftly came he to the gods' dwelling, steep Olympus, and sat beside Jupiter, son of Cronus, with grief at heart, and showed the immortal blood flowing from the wound, and piteously spake to him winged words: "Father Jupiter, hast thou no indignation to behold these violent deeds? For ever cruelly suffer we gods by one another's devices, in showing men grace. With thee are we all at variance, because thou didst beget that reckless maiden and baleful, whose thought is ever of iniquitous deeds. For all the other gods that are in Olympus hearken to thee, and we are subject every one; only her thou chaste-nest not, neither in deed nor word, but settest her on, because this pestilent one is thine own offspring. Now hath she urged on Tydeus' son, even overweening Diomede, to rage furiously against the immortal gods. The Cyprian first he wounded in close fight, in the wrist of her hand, and then assailed he me, even me, with the might of a god. Howbeit my swift feet bare me away; else had I long endured anguish there amid the grisly heaps of dead, or else had lived strengthless from the smitings of the spear." Then Jupiter the cloud-gatherer looked sternly at him, and said: "Nay, thou renegade, sit not by me and whine. Most hateful to me art thou of all gods that dwell in Olympus; thou ever lovest strife and wars and battles. Truly thy mother's spirit is intolerable, unyielding, even Juno's; her can I scarce rule with words. Therefore I deem that by her prompting thou art in this plight. Yet will I no longer endure to see thee in anguish; mine offspring art thou, and to me thy mother bare thee. But wert thou born of any other god unto this violence, long ere this hadst thou been lower than the sons of Heaven." So spake he and bade Pæan heal him. And Pæan laid assuaging drugs upon the wound, and healed him, seeing he was in no wise of mortal mold. Even as fig juice maketh haste to thicken white milk, that is liquid but curdleth speedily as a man stirreth, even so swiftly healed he impetuous Mars. And Hebe bathed him and clothed him in gracious raiment, and he sate down by Jupiter, son of Cronus, glorying in his might. Then fared the twain back to the mansion of great Jupiter, even Juno and Minerva, having stayed Mars, scourge of mortals, from his man-slaying.[84] =69. Mars and Minerva.= It would seem that the insatiate son of Juno should have learned by this sad experience to avoid measuring arms with the ægis-bearing Minerva. But he renewed the contest at a later period in the fortunes of the Trojan War: ... Jupiter knew what was coming as he sat upon Olympus, and his heart within him laughed pleasantly when he beheld that strife of gods. Then no longer stood they asunder, for Mars, piercer of shields, began the battle and first made for Minerva with his bronze spear, and spake a taunting word: "Wherefore, O dogfly, dost thou match gods with gods in strife, with stormy daring, as thy great spirit moveth thee? Rememberest thou not how thou movedst Diomede, Tydeus' son, to wound me, and thyself didst take a visible spear and thrust it straight at me and pierce through my fair skin? Therefore deem I now that thou shalt pay me for all that thou hast done." Thus saying, he smote on the dread tasseled ægis that not even the lightning of Jupiter can overcome--thereon smote blood-stained Mars with his long spear. But she, giving back, grasped with stout hand a stone that lay upon the plain, black, rugged, huge, which men of old time set to be the landmark of a field; this hurled she, and smote impetuous Mars on the neck, and unstrung his limbs. Seven roods he covered in his fall, and soiled his hair with dust, and his armor rang upon him. And Minerva laughed, and spake to him winged words exultingly: "Fool, not even yet hast thou learnt how far better than thou I claim to be, that thus thou matchest thy might with mine. Thus shalt thou satisfy thy mother's curses, who deviseth mischief against thee in her wrath, for that thou hast left the Achæans and givest the proud Trojans aid." Thus having said, she turned from him her shining eyes. Him did Venus, daughter of Jupiter, take by the hand and lead away, groaning continually, for scarce gathered he his spirit back to him.[85] =70. The Fortunes of Cadmus.= Toward mortals Mars could show himself, on occasion, as vindictive as his fair foe, the unwearied daughter of Jove. This fact not only Cadmus, who slew a serpent sacred to Mars, but all the family of Cadmus found out to their cost. [Illustration: FIG. 54. CADMUS SLAYING THE DRAGON] When Europa was carried away by Jupiter in the guise of a bull, her father Agenor commanded his son Cadmus to go in search of her and not to return without her. Cadmus sought long and far; then, not daring to return unsuccessful, consulted the oracle of Apollo to know what country he should settle in. The oracle informed him that he would find a cow in the field, should follow her wherever she might wander, and where she stopped should build a city and call it Thebes. Cadmus had hardly left the Castalian cave, from which the oracle was delivered, when he saw a young cow slowly walking before him. He followed her close, offering at the same time his prayers to Ph[oe]bus. The cow went on till she passed the shallow channel of Cephissus and came out into the plain of Panope. There she stood still. Cadmus gave thanks, and stooping down kissed the foreign soil, then lifting his eyes, greeted the surrounding mountains. Wishing to offer a sacrifice to his protecting deity, Minerva, he sent his servants to seek pure water for a libation. Near by there stood an ancient grove which had never been profaned by the ax, in the midst of which was a cave thick covered with the growth of bushes, its roof forming a low arch from beneath which burst forth a fountain of purest water. But in the cave lurked a serpent with crested head, and scales glittering like gold; his eyes shone like fire; his body was swollen with venom; he vibrated a triple tongue and showed a triple row of teeth. No sooner had the Tyrians dipped their pitchers in the fountain and the in-gushing waters had made a sound, than the monster, twisting his scaly body in a huge coil, darted upon them and destroyed some with his fangs, others in his folds, and others with his poisonous breath. Cadmus, having waited for the return of his men till midday, went in search of them. When he entered the wood and saw their lifeless bodies and the dragon with his bloody jaws, not knowing that the serpent was sacred to Mars, scourge of mortals, he lifted a huge stone and threw it with all his force at the monster. The blow made no impression. Minerva, however, was present, unseen, to aid her worshiper. Cadmus next threw his javelin, which penetrated the serpent's scales and pierced through to his entrails. The monster attempted to draw out the weapon with his mouth, but broke it off, leaving the iron point rankling in his flesh. His neck swelled with rage, bloody foam covered his jaws, and the breath of his nostrils poisoned the air around. As he moved onward, Cadmus retreated before him, holding his spear opposite to the serpent's opened jaws. At last, watching his chance, the hero thrust the spear at a moment when the animal's head thrown back came against the trunk of a tree, and so succeeded in pinning him to its side. While Cadmus stood over his conquered foe, contemplating its vast size, a voice was heard (from whence he knew not, but it was Minerva's) commanding him to take the dragon's teeth and sow them in the earth. Scarce had he done so when the clods began to move and the points of spears to appear above the surface. Next, helmets with their nodding plumes came up; next, the shoulders and breasts and limbs of men with weapons, and in time a harvest of armed warriors. Cadmus prepared to encounter a new enemy, but one of them said to him, "Meddle not with our civil war." With that he who had spoken smote one of his earthborn brothers with a sword, and he himself fell pierced with an arrow from another. The latter fell victim to a fourth, and in like manner the whole crowd dealt with each other till all but five fell slain. These five joined with Cadmus in building his city, to which they gave the name appointed. [Illustration: FIG. 55. HARMONIA IN COMPANY OF DEITIES] As penance for the destruction of this sacred serpent, Cadmus served Mars for a period of eight years. After he had been absolved of his impiety, Minerva set him over the realm of Thebes, and Jove gave him to wife Harmonia, the daughter of Venus and Mars. The gods left Olympus to honor the occasion with their presence; and Vulcan presented the bride with a necklace of surpassing brilliancy, his own workmanship. Of this marriage were born four daughters, Semele, Ino, Autonoë, and Agave, and one son, Polydorus. But in spite of the atonement made by Cadmus, a fatality hung over the family. The very necklace of Vulcan seemed to catch the spirit of ill luck and convey a baleful influence to such as wore it. Semele, Ino, Actæon the son of Autonoë, and Pentheus the son of Agave, all perished by violence. Cadmus and Harmonia quitted Thebes, grown odious to them, and emigrated to the country of the Enchelians, who received them with honor and made Cadmus their king. But the misfortunes of their children still weighing upon their minds, Cadmus one day exclaimed, "If a serpent's life is so dear to the gods, I would I were myself a serpent." No sooner had he uttered the words than he began to change his form. Harmonia, beholding it, prayed the gods to let her share his fate. Both became serpents. It is said that, mindful of their origin, they neither avoid the presence of man nor do they injure any one. But the curse appears not to have passed from their house until the sons of their great-great-grandson [OE]dipus had by fraternal strife ended themselves and the family.[86] [Illustration: FIG. 56. THE FORGE OF VULCAN From the painting by Velasquez] =71. Myths of Vulcan.= The stories of Vulcan are few, although incidents illustrating his character are sufficiently numerous. According to an account already given, Vulcan, because of his lameness, was cast out of Heaven by his mother Juno. The sea-goddesses Eurynome and Thetis took him mercifully to themselves, and for nine years cared for him, while he plied his trade and gained proficiency in it. In order to revenge himself upon the mother who had so despitefully used him, he fashioned in the depths of the sea a throne of cunning device, which he sent to his mother. She, gladly accepting the glorious gift, sat down upon it, to find out that straightway all manner of invisible chains and fetters wound and clasped themselves about her so that she could not rise. The assistance of the gods was of no avail to release her. Then Mars sought to bring Vulcan to Heaven by force that he might undo his trickery; but before the flames of the fire-god, the impetuous warrior speedily retreated. One god, however, the jovial Bacchus, was dear to the blacksmith. He drenched Vulcan with wine, conducted him to Olympus, and by persuasion caused him to set the queen of gods and men at liberty. [Illustration: FIG. 57. A SACRIFICE TO APOLLO] That Vulcan was not permanently hostile to Juno is shown by the services that on various occasions he rendered her. He forged the shield of her favorite Achilles; and, at her instance, he undertook a contest against the river Xanthus. Homer[87] describes the burning of elms and willow trees and tamarisks, the parching of the plains, the bubbling of the waters, that signalized the fight, and how the eels and other fish were afflicted by Vulcan till Xanthus in anguish cried for quarter. =72. Myths of Apollo.= The myths which cluster about the name of Ph[oe]bus Apollo illustrate, first, his birth and the wanderings of his mother, Latona; secondly, his victory over darkness and winter; thirdly, his gifts to man,--youth and vigor, the sunshine of spring, and the vegetation of early summer; fourthly, his baleful influence,--the sunstroke and drought of midsummer, the miasma of autumn; fifthly, his life on earth, as friend and counselor of mankind,--healer, soothsayer, and musician, prototype of manly beauty, and lover of beautiful women. =73. The Wanderings of Latona.= Persecuted by the jealousy of the white-armed Juno, Latona fled from land to land. At last, bearing in her arms the infant progeny of Jove, she reached Lycia, weary with her burden and parched with thirst. There the following adventure ensued. By chance the persecuted goddess espied in the bottom of the valley a pond of clear water, where the country people were at work gathering willows and osiers. She approached and kneeling on the bank would have slaked her thirst in the cool stream, but the rustics forbade her. "Why do you refuse me water?" said she. "Water is free to all. Yet I ask it of you as a favor. I have no intention of washing my limbs in it, weary though they be, but only of quenching my thirst. A draft of water would be nectar to me, and I would own myself indebted to you for life itself. Let these infants move your pity, who stretch out their little arms as if to plead for me." But the clowns persisted in their rudeness; they added jeers, and threatened violence if she did not leave the place. They waded into the pond and stirred up the mud with their feet, so as to make the water unfit to drink. Enraged, the goddess no longer supplicated the clowns, but lifting her hands to Heaven exclaimed, "May they never quit that pool but pass their lives there!" And it came to pass accordingly. They still live in the water, sometimes totally submerged, then raising their heads above the surface or swimming upon it; sometimes coming out upon the bank, but soon leaping back again into the water. Their voices are harsh, their throats bloated, their mouths distended by constant railing; their necks have shrunk up and disappeared, and their heads are joined to their bodies. Their backs are green, their disproportioned bellies white. They dwell as frogs in the slimy pool.[88] =74. Apollo, the Light Triumphant.= Soon after his birth the sun-god spent a year among the Hyperboreans, whose shining land has been already described.[89] On his return, slaying with his golden arrows the Python that had infested the slopes near Delphi, he sang for the first time that song of victory which, as _the Pæan_, is still among all nations synonymous with jubilation, praise, and thanksgiving. In his conflict with another monster of darkness and winter, the god of the silver bow had the assistance of his sister Diana. By their unerring fiery darts they subdued the giant Tityus, who not only had obstructed the peaceful ways to the oracle of Delphi, but had ventured to insult the mother of the twin deities. They overthrew also the Aloadæ, Otus and Ephialtes, sons of Iphimedia and Neptune. These monsters, the reputed sons of Aloeus, represent, perhaps, the unregulated forces of vegetation; they were renowned for their strength, stature, and courage. They grew at the rate of three cubits in height and one in breadth every year; and, when nine years of age, they attempted, by piling Mount Ossa upon Olympus, and Mount Pelion on top, to scale the skies and dethrone the immortals. It is reported that not Apollo and Diana, but Jupiter himself with his lightning slew them. They atoned for their presumption in Hades, where, bound by serpents to a pillar, they were tormented by the perpetual hooting of a screech owl.[90] [Illustration: FIG. 58. APOLLO WITH HYACINTHUS] =75. Hyacinthus.= The fiery force of the Far-darter was not felt by the monsters of darkness alone. His friendship for the young and the vigorous was frequently as dangerous as it was dear to the objects of it. He was, for instance, passionately fond of a youth named Hyacinthus. The god of the silver bow accompanied the lad in his sports, carried the nets when he went fishing, led the dogs when he went to hunt, followed him in his excursions in the mountains, and neglected for him both lyre and arrows. One day they played a game of quoits; Apollo, heaving aloft the discus with strength mingled with skill, sent it high and far. Hyacinthus, excited with the sport and eager to make his throw, ran forward to seize the missile; but it bounded from the earth and struck him in the forehead. He fainted and fell. The god, as pale as himself, raised him and tried all his art to stanch the wound and retain the flitting life, but in vain. As when one has broken the stem of a lily in the garden it hangs its head and turns its flowers to the earth, so the head of the dying boy, as if too heavy for his neck, fell over on his shoulder. "Thou diest, Hyacinth," spake Ph[oe]bus, "robbed of thy youth by me. Would that I could die for thee! But since that may not be, my lyre shall celebrate thee, my song shall tell thy fate, and thou shalt become a flower inscribed with my regret." While the golden god spoke, the blood which had flowed on the ground and stained the herbage ceased to be blood; and a flower of hue more beautiful than the Tyrian sprang up, resembling the lily, save that this is purple and that silvery white. Ph[oe]bus then, to confer still greater honor, marked the petals with his sorrow, inscribing "Ai! ai!" upon them. The flower bears the name of Hyacinthus, and with returning spring revives the memory of his fate.[91] It was said that Zephyrus (the west wind), who was also fond of Hyacinthus and jealous of his preference of Apollo, blew the quoit out of its course to make it strike Hyacinthus. While this youth met his death by accident, another of Apollo's favorites, his own son, brought death upon himself by presumption. The story is as follows: =76. Phaëthon=[2] was the son of Apollo and the nymph Clymene. One day Epaphus, the son of Jupiter and Io,[92] scoffed at the idea of Phaëthon's being the son of a god. Phaëthon complained of the insult to his mother Clymene. She sent him to Ph[oe]bus to ask for himself whether he had not been truly informed concerning his parentage. Gladly Phaëthon traveled toward the regions of sunrise and gained at last the palace of the Sun. He approached his father's presence, but stopped at a distance, for the light was more than he could bear. Ph[oe]bus Apollo, arrayed in purple, sat on a throne that glittered with diamonds. Beside him stood the Day, the Month, the Year, the Hours, and the Seasons. Surrounded by these attendants, the Sun beheld the youth dazzled with the novelty and splendor of the scene, and inquired the purpose of his errand. The youth replied, "Oh, light of the boundless world, Ph[oe]bus, my father--if thou dost yield me that name--give me some proof, I beseech thee, by which I may be known as thine!" He ceased. His father, laying aside the beams that shone around his head, bade him approach, embraced him, owned him for his son, and swore by the river Styx[93] that whatever proof he might ask should be granted. Phaëthon immediately asked to be permitted for one day to drive the chariot of the sun. The father repented of his promise and tried to dissuade the boy by telling him the perils of the undertaking. "None but myself," he said, "may drive the flaming car of day. Not even Jupiter, whose terrible right arm hurls the thunderbolts. The first part of the way is steep and such as the horses when fresh in the morning can hardly climb; the middle is high up in the heavens, whence I myself can scarcely, without alarm, look down and behold the earth and sea stretched beneath me. The last part of the road descends rapidly and requires most careful driving. Tethys, who is waiting to receive me, often trembles for me lest I should fall headlong. Add to this that the heaven is all the time turning round and carrying the stars with it. Couldst thou keep thy course while the sphere revolved beneath thee? The road, also, is through the midst of frightful monsters. Thou must pass by the horns of the Bull, in front of the Archer, and near the Lion's jaws, and where the Scorpion stretches its arms in one direction and the Crab in another. Nor wilt thou find it easy to guide those horses, with their breasts full of fire that they breathe forth from their mouths and nostrils. Beware, my son, lest I be the donor of a fatal gift; recall the request while yet thou canst." He ended; but the youth rejected admonition and held to his demand. So, having resisted as long as he might, Ph[oe]bus at last led the way to where stood the lofty chariot. It was of gold, the gift of Vulcan,--the axle of gold, the pole and wheels of gold, the spokes of silver. Along the seat were rows of chrysolites and diamonds, reflecting the brightness of the sun. While the daring youth gazed in admiration, the early Dawn threw open the purple doors of the east and showed the pathway strewn with roses. The stars withdrew, marshaled by the Daystar, which last of all retired also. The father, when he saw the earth beginning to glow and the Moon preparing to retire, ordered the Hours to harness up the horses. They led forth from the lofty stalls the steeds full fed with ambrosia, and attached the reins. Then the father, smearing the face of his son with a powerful unguent, made him capable of enduring the brightness of the flame. He set the rays on the lad's head, and, with a foreboding sigh, told him to spare the whip and hold tight the reins; not to take the straight road between the five circles, but to turn off to the left; to keep within the limit of the middle zone and avoid the northern and the southern alike; finally, to keep in the well-worn ruts and to drive neither too high nor too low, for the middle course was safest and best.[94] Forthwith the agile youth sprang into the chariot, stood erect, and grasped the reins with delight, pouring out thanks to his reluctant parent. But the steeds soon perceived that the load they drew was lighter than usual; and as a ship without ballast is tossed hither and thither on the sea, the chariot, without its accustomed weight, was dashed about as if empty. The horses rushed headlong and left the traveled road. Then, for the first time, the Great and Little Bears were scorched with heat, and would fain, if it were possible, have plunged into the water; and the Serpent which lies coiled round the north pole, torpid and harmless, grew warm, and with warmth felt its rage revive. Boötes, they say, fled away, though encumbered with his plow and unused to rapid motion. When hapless Phaëthon looked down upon the earth, now spreading in vast extent beneath him, he grew pale, and his knees shook with terror. He lost his self-command and knew not whether to draw tight the reins or throw them loose; he forgot the names of the horses. But when he beheld the monstrous forms scattered over the surface of heaven,--the Scorpion extending two great arms, his tail, and his crooked claws over the space of two signs of the zodiac,--when the boy beheld him, reeking with poison and menacing with fangs, his courage failed, and the reins fell from his hands. The horses, unrestrained, went off into unknown regions of the sky in among the stars, hurling the chariot over pathless places, now up in high heaven, now down almost to the earth. The moon saw with astonishment her brother's chariot running beneath her own. The clouds began to smoke. The forest-clad mountains burned,--Athos and Taurus and Tmolus and [OE]te; Ida, once celebrated for fountains; the Muses' mountain Helicon, and Hæmus; Ætna, with fires within and without, and Parnassus, with his two peaks, and Rhodope, forced at last to part with his snowy crown. Her cold climate was no protection to Scythia; Caucasus burned, and Ossa and Pindus, and, greater than both, Olympus,--the Alps high in air, and the Apennines crowned with clouds. [Illustration: FIG. 59. THE FALL OF PHAËTHON] Phaëthon beheld the world on fire and felt the heat intolerable. Then, too, it is said, the people of Æthiopia became black because the blood was called by the heat so suddenly to the surface; and the Libyan desert was dried up to the condition in which it remains to this day. The Nymphs of the fountains, with disheveled hair, mourned their waters, nor were the rivers safe beneath their banks; Tanaïs smoked, and Caïcus, Xanthus, and Mæander; Babylonian Euphrates and Ganges, Tagus, with golden sands, and Ca[:y]ster, where the swans resort. Nile fled away and hid his head in the desert, and there it still remains concealed. Where he used to discharge his waters through seven mouths into the sea, seven dry channels alone remained. The earth cracked open, and through the chinks light broke into Tartarus and frightened the king of shadows and his queen. The sea shrank up. Even Nereus and his wife Doris with the Nereïds, their daughters, sought the deepest caves for refuge. Thrice Neptune essayed to raise his head above the surface and thrice was driven back by the heat. Earth, surrounded as she was by waters, yet with head and shoulders bare, screening her face with her hand, looked up to heaven, and with husky voice prayed Jupiter, if it were his will that she should perish by fire, to end her agony at once by his thunderbolts, or else to consider his own Heaven, how both the poles were smoking that sustained his palace, and that all must fall if they were destroyed. Earth, overcome with heat and thirst, could say no more. Then Jupiter, calling the gods to witness that all was lost unless some speedy remedy were applied, thundered, brandished a lightning bolt in his right hand, launched it against the charioteer, and struck him at the same moment from his seat and from existence. Phaëthon, with his hair on fire, fell headlong, like a shooting star which marks the heavens with its brightness as it falls, and Eridanus, the great river, received him and cooled his burning frame. His sisters, the Heliades, as they lamented his fate, were turned into poplar trees on the banks of the river; and their tears, which continued to flow, became amber as they dropped into the stream. The Italian Naiads reared a tomb for him and inscribed these words upon the stone: Driver of Ph[oe]bus' chariot, Phaëthon, Struck by Jove's thunder, rests beneath this stone. He could not rule his father's car of fire, Yet was it much so nobly to aspire.[95] =77. The Plague sent upon the Greeks before Troy.= It was not, however, only by accident, or by the ill-advised action of those whom he loved, that Apollo's gifts of light and heat were turned into misfortunes. Mortals who offended him were leveled by the cruel sunstroke, by arrows of malarial venom, of manifold sickness and death. When the host of the Achæans was encamped before Troy, the king of men, Atrides, unjustly declined to restore his captive, Chryseïs of the fair cheeks, to her father Chryses, the priest of far-darting Apollo. Then the aged Chryses went apart and prayed aloud, "Hear me, god of the silver bow, ... let the Danaans pay by thine arrows for my tears!" So spake he in prayer; and Ph[oe]bus Apollo heard him, and came down from the peaks of Olympus wroth at heart, bearing on his shoulders his bow and covered quiver. And the arrows clanged upon his shoulders in his wrath, as the god moved; and he descended like to night. Then he sate him aloof from the ships, and let an arrow fly; and there was heard a dread clanging of the silver bow. First did he assail the mules and fleet dogs, but afterward, aiming at the men his piercing dart, he smote; and the pyres of the dead burnt continually in multitude. Nor until Agamemnon had sent back his winsome captive to her father did Apollo remove from the Danaans the loathsome pestilence.[96] =78. The Punishment of Niobe= is another illustration of the swift and awful vengeance of Apollo, and also of his sister Diana. This Niobe was the daughter of a certain Tantalus, king of Phrygia, who had been received at the table of the gods by his father Jupiter. But there was a strain of ingratitude and conceit in both father and daughter. The father not only betrayed the secrets of the gods, but, to ridicule their reputed omniscience, attempted at a banquet to deceive them into eating the roasted flesh of his own son Pelops. The gods were not deceived. Pelops was restored to life,--Tantalus consigned to Tartarus. The daughter Niobe, although she owed her happy marriage with Jupiter's son Amphion, and her seven stalwart sons and seven blooming daughters, to the favor of the gods and of Latona in particular, boasted of her birth, her marriage, and her offspring, bragged of her superiority to Latona, and, on one occasion, scoffed at the annual celebration in honor of the goddess and her two children. Surveying the people of Thebes with haughty glance, she said, "What folly to prefer beings whom you have never seen to those who stand before your eyes! Will you prefer to me this Latona, the Titan's daughter, with her two children? I have seven times as many. Were I to lose some of my children, I should hardly be left as poor as Latona with her two only. Put off the laurel from your brows,--have done with this worship!" The people left the sacred services uncompleted. [Illustration: FIG. 60. A SON OF NIOBE] The goddess was indignant. On the Cynthian mountain top she thus addressed her son and daughter: "My children, I who have been so proud of you both and have been used to hold myself second to none of the goddesses except Juno alone, begin now to doubt whether I am indeed a goddess. I shall be deprived of my worship altogether unless you protect me." She was proceeding in this strain, but Apollo interrupted her. "Say no more," said he; "speech only delays punishment." So said Diana also. Darting through the air, veiled in clouds, they alighted on the towers of the city. Spread out before the gates was a broad plain where the youth of the city pursued their warlike sports. The sons of Niobe were there with the rest,--some mounted on spirited horses richly caparisoned, some driving gay chariots. Ismenos, the first-born, as he guided his foaming steeds was struck by an arrow from above. "Ah me!" he cried,--dropped the reins and fell lifeless. Another, hearing the sound of the bow, gave the rein to his horses and attempted to escape. The inevitable arrow overtook him as he fled. Two others, younger, stood wrestling breast to breast: one arrow pierced them both. Alphenor, an elder brother, hastened to the spot to render assistance, but fell in the act of brotherly duty. One only was left, Ilioneus. "Spare me, ye gods!" he cried, addressing all of them, in his ignorance that all needed not his supplication; and Apollo would have spared him, but the arrow had already left the string, and it was too late. [Illustration: FIG 61. THE CHILDREN OF NIOBE] When Niobe was acquainted with what had taken place, she was indignant that the gods had dared, and amazed that they had been able to do it. Her husband Amphion, overwhelmed with the blow, destroyed himself. But the mother knelt over the lifeless bodies and kissed them. Raising her pallid arms to heaven, "Cruel Latona," said she, "satiate thy hard heart while I follow to the grave my seven sons. Yet where is thy triumph? Bereaved as I am, I am still richer than thou, my conqueror." Scarce had she spoken, when the bow sounded and struck terror into all hearts except Niobe's alone. She was brave from excess of grief. Her daughters stood in garments of mourning over the biers of their dead brothers. One after another they fell, struck by arrows, beside the corpses that they were bewailing. Only one remained, whom the mother held clasped in her arms and covered, as it were, with her whole body. "Spare me one and that the youngest! Oh, spare me one of so many!" she cried; and while she spoke, that one fell dead. Desolate she sat among sons, daughters, husband, all dead, and seemed torpid with grief. The breeze moved not her hair, no color was on her cheek, her eyes glared fixed and immovable, there was no sign of life about her. Her very tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth and her veins ceased to convey the tide of life. Her neck bent not, her arms made no gesture, her foot no step. She was changed to stone, within and without. Yet tears continued to flow; and borne on a whirlwind to her native mountain, she still remains, a mass of rock from which a trickling stream flows, the tribute of her never-ending grief.[97] [Illustration: FIG. 62. NIOBE AND HER YOUNGEST DAUGHTER] Amid nine daughters slain by Artemis Stood Niobe; she rais'd her head above Those beauteous forms which had brought down the scath Whence all nine fell, rais'd it, and stood erect, And thus bespake the goddess enthroned on high: "Thou heardest, Artemis, my daily prayer That thou wouldst guide these children in the pass Of virtue, through the tangling wilds of youth, And thou didst ever guide them: was it just To smite them for a beauty such as thine? Deserv'd they death because thy grace appear'd In ever modest motion? 'twas thy gift, The richest gift that youth from heaven receives. True, I did boldly say they might compare Even with thyself in virgin purity: May not a mother in her pride repeat What every mortal said? One prayer remains For me to offer yet. Thy quiver holds More than nine arrows: bend thy bow; aim here! I see, I see it glimmering through a cloud. Artemis, thou at length art merciful: My children will not hear the fatal twang."[98] =79. The Lamentation for Linus.= How the people of Argos fell under the displeasure of Apollo is told in the story of Linus, a beautiful son of Apollo and Psamathe. In fear of her father the king, Psamathe exposed the child on the mountains where, brought up by shepherds among the lambs, he was in tender youth torn to pieces by dogs. Meanwhile, Psamathe herself was driven from her father's home; wherefore Apollo sent against the land of the Argives a monster that for a season destroyed the children, but at last was slain by a noble youth named Cor[oe]bus. To appease the wrathful deity, a shrine was erected midway between Argos and Delphi; and every year Linus and his mother were bewailed in melancholy lays by the mothers and children of Argos, especially by such as had lost by death their own beloved. The fate of Linus, like that of Hyacinthus and others who succumb in the springtime of life under the excessive love of some shining deity,[99] typifies the sudden withering of herbs and flowers and of animal life,--the calves and lambs, young children too, under the fierce shafts of summer. The very name of Linus is taken from the refrain _ai-linon_, or "woe is me," of the lament anciently sung by the country people when thus afflicted by the unhealthy heats, because of which the crops fail and the dogs go mad and tear the little lambs to pieces. In the Iliad there is a beautiful picture which shows us that the song was not reserved completely for the dog days. It is of a vineyard teeming plenteously with clusters: And there was a pathway through it by which the vintagers might go. And maidens and striplings in childish glee bare the sweet fruit in plaited baskets. And in the midst of them a boy made pleasant music on a clear-toned viol, and sang thereto a sweet Linos-song with delicate voice; while the rest with feet falling together kept time with the music and song.[100] [Illustration: FIG. 63. ÆSCULAPIUS] =80. Æsculapius.= The Thessalian princess Coronis (or the Messenian, Arsinoë) bore to Apollo a child who was named Æsculapius. On his mother's death the infant was intrusted to the charge of Chiron, most famous of the Centaurs, himself instructed by Apollo and Diana in hunting, medicine, music, and the art of prophecy. When the sage returned to his home bearing the infant, his daughter Ocyrrhoë came forth to meet him, and at sight of the child burst into a prophetic strain, foretelling, the glory that he should achieve. Æsculapius, when grown up, became a renowned physician; in one instance he even succeeded in restoring the dead to life. Pluto resented this, and, at his request, Jupiter struck the bold physician with lightning and killed him, but after his death received him into the number of the gods.[101] =81. Apollo in Exile.= Apollo, indignant at the destruction of this son, wreaked his vengeance on the innocent workmen who had made the thunderbolt. These were the Cyclopes, who had their workshop under Mount Ætna, from which the smoke and flames of their furnaces are constantly issuing. Apollo shot his arrows at the Cyclopes, a deed which so incensed Jupiter that he condemned him to serve a mortal for the space of one year. Accordingly, Apollo went into the service of Admetus, king of Thessaly, and pastured his flocks for him on the verdant banks of the river Amphrysus. How the god lived among men, and what they thought of him, is well told in the following verses. =82. Lowell's Shepherd of King Admetus.= There came a youth upon the earth, Some thousand years ago, Whose slender hands were nothing worth, Whether to plow, or reap, or sow. Upon an empty tortoise-shell He stretched some chords, and drew Music that made men's bosoms swell Fearless, or brimmed their eyes with dew. Then King Admetus, one who had Pure taste by right divine, Decreed his singing not too bad To hear between the cups of wine: And so, well pleased with being soothed Into a sweet half-sleep, Three times his kingly beard he smoothed, And made him viceroy o'er his sheep. His words were simple words enough, And yet he used them so, That what in other mouths was rough In his seemed musical and low. Men called him but a shiftless youth, In whom no good they saw; And yet, unwittingly, in truth, They made his careless words their law. They knew not how he learned at all, For idly, hour by hour, He sat and watched the dead leaves fall, Or mused upon a common flower. It seemed the loveliness of things Did teach him all their use, For, in mere weeds, and stones, and springs He found a healing power profuse. Men granted that his speech was wise, But, when a glance they caught Of his slim grace and woman's eyes, They laughed, and called him good-for-naught. Yet after he was dead and gone And e'en his memory dim, Earth seemed more sweet to live upon, More full of love, because of him. And day by day more holy grew Each spot where he had trod, Till after-poets only knew Their first-born brother as a god. [Illustration: FIG. 64. ADMETUS MUST DIE] =83. Admetus and Alcestis.=[102] Admetus was a suitor, with others, for the hand of Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias, who promised her to him who should come for her in a chariot drawn by lions and boars. This task Admetus performed by the assistance of his divine herdsman, and was made happy in the possession of Alcestis. But Admetus falling ill and being near to death, Apollo prevailed on the Fates to spare him on condition that some one should consent to die in his stead. Admetus, in his joy at this reprieve, thought little of the ransom, and, perhaps remembering the declarations of attachment which he had often heard from his courtiers and dependents, fancied that it would be easy to find a substitute. But it was not so. Brave warriors, who would willingly have periled their lives for their prince, shrunk from the thought of dying for him on the bed of sickness; and old servants who had experienced his bounty and that of his house from their childhood up were not willing to lay down the scanty remnant of their days to show their gratitude. Men asked, "Why does not one of his parents do it? They cannot in the course of nature live much longer, and who can feel like them the call to rescue the life they gave from an untimely end?" But the parents, distressed though they were at the thought of losing him, shrunk from the call. Then Alcestis, with a generous self-devotion, proffered herself as the substitute. Admetus, fond as he was of life, would not have submitted to receive it at such a cost; but there was no remedy. The condition imposed by the Fates had been met, and the decree was irrevocable. As Admetus revived, Alcestis sickened, rapidly sank, and died. Just after the funeral procession had left the palace, Hercules, the son of Jupiter and Alcmena, arrived. He, to whom no labor was too arduous, resolved to attempt her rescue. Said he: "I will go lie in wait for Death, black-stoled King of the corpses![103] I shall find him, sure, Drinking, beside the tomb, o' the sacrifice: And if I lie in ambuscade, and leap Out of my lair, and seize--encircle him Till one hand join the other round about-- There lives not who shall pull him out from me, Rib-mauled, before he let the woman go! But even say I miss the booty,--say, Death comes not to the boltered blood,--why, then, Down go I, to the unsunned dwelling-place Of Koré[104] and the king there,--make demand, Confident I shall bring Alkestis back, So as to put her in the hands of him My host, that housed me, never drove me off: Though stricken with sore sorrow hid the stroke, Being a noble heart and honoring me! Who of Thessalians, more than this man, loves The stranger? Who that now inhabits Greece? Wherefore he shall not say the man was vile Whom he befriended,--native noble heart!" So, one look upward, as if Zeus might laugh Approval of his human progeny,-- One summons of the whole magnific frame, Each sinew to its service,--up he caught, And over shoulder cast the lion-shag, Let the club go,--for had he not those hands? And so went striding off, on that straight way Leads to Larissa and the suburb tomb. Gladness be with thee, Helper of our world! I think this is the authentic sign and seal Of Godship that it ever waxes glad, And more glad, until gladness blossoms, bursts Into a rage to suffer for mankind, And recommence at sorrow: drops like seed After the blossom, ultimate of all. Say, does the seed scorn earth and seek the sun? Surely it has no other end and aim Than to drop, once more die into the ground, Taste cold and darkness and oblivion there: And thence rise, tree-like grow through pain to joy, More joy and most joy,--do man good again. So to the struggle off strode Herakles. [Illustration: FIG. 65. HERACLES] Long time the Thessalians waited and mourned. As for Herakles, no doubt they supposed him dead. When--but can it be? ... Ay, he it was advancing! In he strode, And took his stand before Admetos,--turned Now by despair to such a quietude, He neither raised his face nor spoke, this time, The while his friend surveyed him steadily. That friend looked rough with fighting: had he strained Worst brute to breast was ever strangled yet? Somehow, a victory--for there stood the strength, Happy, as always; something grave, perhaps; The great vein-cordage on the fret-worked front, Black-swollen, beaded yet with battle-dew The golden hair o' the hero!--his big frame A-quiver with each muscle sinking back Into the sleepy smooth it leaped from late. Under the great guard of one arm, there leant A shrouded something, live and woman-like, Propped by the heartbeats 'neath the lion-coat. When he had finished his survey, it seemed, The heavings of the heart began subside, The helpful breath returned, and last the smile Shone out, all Herakles was back again, As the words followed the saluting hand. "Admetus," said he, "take and keep this woman, my captive, till I come thy way again." But Admetus would admit no woman into the hall that Alcestis had left empty. Then cried Herakles, "Take hold of her. See now, my friend, if she look not somewhat like that wife thou hast lost." Ah, but the tears come, find the words at fault! There is no telling how the hero twitched The veil off; and there stood, with such fixed eyes And such slow smile, Alkestis' silent self! It was the crowning grace of that great heart, To keep back joy: procrastinate the truth Until the wife, who had made proof and found The husband wanting, might essay once more, Hear, see, and feel him renovated now-- Able to do now all herself had done, Risen to the height of her: so, hand in hand, The two might go together, live and die. Beside, when he found speech, you guess the speech. He could not think he saw his wife again: It was some mocking God that used the bliss To make him mad! Till Herakles must help: Assure him that no specter mocked at all; He was embracing whom he buried once, Still,--did he touch, might he address the true, True eye, true body of the true live wife? ... And Herakles said little, but enough-- How he engaged in combat with that king O' the dæmons: how the field of contest lay By the tomb's self: how he sprang from ambuscade, Captured Death, caught him in that pair of hands. But all the time, Alkestis moved not once Out of the set gaze and the silent smile; And a cold fear ran through Admetos' frame: "Why does she stand and front me, silent thus?" Herakles solemnly replied, "Not yet Is it allowable thou hear the things She has to tell thee; let evanish quite That consecration to the lower Gods, And on our upper world the third day rise! Lead her in, meanwhile; good and true thou art, Good, true, remain thou! Practice piety To stranger-guests the old way! So, farewell! Since forth I fare, fulfill my urgent task Set by the king, the son of Sthenelos."[105] [Illustration: FIG. 66. THE PALATINE APOLLO] =84. Apollo, the Musician.= Not only in Arcadia, Laconia, and Thessaly did Apollo care as a herdsman for the cattle of a mortal master; in Mount Ida, too, by the order of Jupiter he herded for a year the "shambling, crook-horned kine" of King Laomedon, and, playing on the lyre, aided Neptune to build the walls of Troy, just as Amphion, in his turn, had aided in the building of Thebes. Apollo's life as herdsman was spent in establishing wise laws and customs, in musical contests on the flute and the lyre, or in passages of love with nymphs and maidens of mortal mold. =85. Apollo, Pan, and Midas.=[106] It is said that on a certain occasion Pan had the temerity to compare his music with that of Apollo and to challenge the god of the lyre to a trial of skill. The challenge was accepted, and Tmolus, the mountain-god, was chosen umpire. The senior took his seat and cleared away the trees from his ears to listen. At a given signal Pan blew on his pipes, and with his rustic melody gave great satisfaction to himself and his faithful follower Midas, who happened to be present. Then Tmolus turned his head toward the sun-god, and all his trees turned with him. Apollo rose, his brow wreathed with Parnassian laurel, while his robe of Tyrian purple swept the ground. In his left hand he held the lyre and with his right hand struck the strings. Tmolus at once awarded the victory to the lyric god, and all but Midas acquiesced in the judgment. He dissented and questioned the justice of the award. Apollo promptly transformed his depraved pair of ears into those of an ass. King Midas tried to hide his misfortune under an ample turban. But his hair-dresser found it too much for his discretion to keep such a secret; he dug a hole in the ground and, stooping down, whispered the story, and covered it up. But a thick bed of reeds springing up in the meadow began whispering the story, and has continued to do so from that day to this, every time a breeze passes over the place. =86. Shelley's Hymn of Pan.= In the following verses Pan taunts Apollo as he might have done when Midas was sitting contentedly by: From the forests and highlands We come, we come; From the river-girt islands, Where loud waves are dumb, Listening to my sweet pipings. The wind in the reeds and the rushes, The bees on the bells of thyme, The birds on the myrtle bushes, The cicale above in the lime, And the lizards below in the grass, Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was Listening to my sweet pipings. Liquid Peneüs was flowing, And all dark Tempe lay, In Pelion's shadow, outgrowing The light of the dying day, Speeded by my sweet pipings. The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns, And the Nymphs of the woods and waves, To the edge of the moist river-lawns, And the brink of the dewy caves, And all that did then attend and follow Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo, With envy of my sweet pipings. I sang of the dancing stars, I sang of the dædal Earth, And of Heaven--and the giant wars, And Love, and Death, and Birth,-- And then I changed my pipings,-- Singing how down the vale of Menalus I pursued a maiden, and clasp'd a reed: Gods and men, we are all deluded thus! It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed: All wept, as I think both ye now would, If envy or age had not frozen your blood, At the sorrow of my sweet pipings. =87. Marsyas= also was unfortunate enough to underrate Apollo's musical ability. It seems that the flute, an invention of Minerva's, had been thrown away by that goddess because Cupid laughed at the grimaces which she made while playing it. Marsyas found the instrument, blew upon it, and elicited such ravishing sounds that he was tempted to challenge Apollo himself to a musical contest. The god, of course, triumphed, and he punished Marsyas by flaying him alive. =88. The Loves of Apollo.= Beside Psamathe of Argos, Coronis of Thessaly, and the nymph Clymene, who have been already mentioned, Apollo loved the muse Calliope, who bore him Orpheus,[107] and the nymph Cyrene, whose son was Aristæus.[108] Of his relations with other maidens the following myths exist. =89. Daphne.=[109] The lord of the silver bow was not always prosperous in his wooing. His first love, which, by the way, owed its origin to the malice of Cupid, was specially unfortunate. It appears that Apollo, seeing the boy playing with his bow and arrows, had tauntingly advised him to leave warlike weapons for hands worthy of them and content himself with the torch of love. Whereupon the son of Venus had rejoined, "Thine arrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike thee." [Illustration: APOLLO AND DAPHNE] So saying, he took his stand on a rock of Parnassus, and drew from his quiver two arrows of different workmanship,--one to excite love, the other to repel it. The former was of gold and sharp pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead. With the leaden shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river-god Peneüs, and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart. Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, but she, more than ever, abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland sports and in the spoils of the chase. Spurning all lovers, she prayed her father that she might remain always unmarried, like Diana. He consented, but, at the same time, warned her that her beauty would defeat her purpose. It was the face of this huntress maiden that Apollo saw. He saw the charming disorder of her hair, and would have arranged it; he saw her eyes bright as stars; he saw her lips, and was not satisfied with only seeing them. He longed for Daphne. He followed her; she fled swifter than the wind, nor delayed a moment at his entreaties. "Stay," said he, "daughter of Peneüs; I am not a foe. It is for love I pursue thee. I am no clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter is my father. I am lord of Delphi and Tenedos. I know all things, present and future. I am the god of song and the lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but alas! an arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! I am the god of medicine and know the virtues of all healing plants. Alas! I suffer a malady that no balm can cure." [Illustration: FIG. 67. DAPHNE] The nymph continues her flight and leaves his plea half-uttered. But even as she flies she charms him. The wind catches her garments, and her unbound hair streams loose behind her. The god, sped by Cupid, gains upon her in the race. His panting breath blows upon her hair. Her strength begins to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river-god: "Help me, Peneüs! open the earth to inclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger!" Scarcely had she spoken when a stiffness seized her limbs; and little by little she took on the appearance of a laurel tree. Apollo embraced the branches and lavished kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips. "Since thou canst not be my wife," said he, "thou shalt assuredly be my tree. I will wear thee for my crown. I will decorate with thee my harp and my quiver. When the Roman conquerors conduct the triumphal pomp to the Capitol, thou shalt be woven into wreaths for their brows. And, as eternal youth is mine, thou also shalt be always green, and thy leaf know no decay." The laurel tree bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment. The delicious humor of Lowell's extravaganza upon the story amply justifies the following citation: Ph[oe]bus, sitting one day in a laurel tree's shade, Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made, For the god being one day too warm in his wooing, She took to the tree to escape his pursuing; Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk, And, Ginevra-like, shut herself up in a trunk; And, though 't was a step into which he had driven her, He somehow or other had never forgiven her; Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic, Something bitter to chew when he'd play the Byronic, And I can't count the obstinate nymphs that he brought over By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her. "My case is like Dido's," he sometimes remarked; "When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked In a laurel, as _she_ thought--but (ah, how Fate mocks!) She has found it by this time a very bad box; Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it,-- You're not always sure of your game when you've treed it. Just conceive such a change taking place in one's mistress! What romance would be left?--who can flatter or kiss trees? And, for mercy's sake, how could one keep up a dialogue With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log,-- Not to say that the thought would forever intrude That you've less chance to win her the more she is wood? Ah! it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves, To see those loved graces all taking their leaves; Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now, As they left me forever, each making its bough! If her tongue _had_ a tang sometimes more than was right, Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite."[110] =90. Marpessa.= Another maiden who declined Apollo's love was Marpessa.[1] She is called by Homer "the fair-ankled daughter of Evenus." The god Apollo from the heaven of heavens Her mortal sweetness through the air allured;[2] but Idas, "that was strongest of men that were then on earth,"[111] carried her off, assisted by Poseidon who gave him a winged chariot. Her father Evenus vainly tried to catch up with the fleeing lovers; but Apollo found them in Messene, and wrested the maiden away. Then Jupiter, while the lovers were engaged in combat, separated them, saying, "Let her decide." They three together met; on the one side, Fresh from diffusing light on all the world Apollo; on the other without sleep Idas, and in the midst Marpessa stood. Just as a flower after drenching rain, So from the falling of felicity Her human beauty glowed, and it was new; The bee too near her bosom drowsed and dropped.[2] According to the story as romantically told by the English poet Phillips, first spoke Apollo. The god told her that he dreaded that one so fair should ever taste of sorrow and death; how, if she lived with him, she should bide In mere felicity above the world In peace alive and moving, where to stir Is ecstasy, and thrilling is repose,[112] immortal, scattering joy without intermission, lighting the world, bringing bliss to struggling men and sorrowing women, dispelling shadows and shadowy fear. Then Idas, humbly,-- "After such argument what can I plead? Or what pale promise make? Yet since it is In women to pity rather than to aspire, A little will I speak." And he tells her simply that he _loves_ her,--loves her not only for her beauty, but "Because Infinity upon thee broods; And thou art full of whispers and of shadows;--" and because her voice is music, her face mystery beyond his power to comprehend; "O beauty lone and like a candle clear In this dark country of the world! Thou art My woe, my early light, my music dying." And Marpessa?-- As he was speaking, she with lips apart Breathed, and with dimmer eyes leaned through the air As one in dream, and now his human hand Took in her own; and to Apollo spoke,-- saying that she knew how sweet it might be forever with a god to aid suffering men and women and "gild the face that from its dead looks up"; but still she feared immortality, for, though dying not, she must grow old, and her god lover would tire of her when once her youth was faded. And as for that "existence without tears for evermore" which he promised,-- "Yet I being human, human sorrow miss. The half of music, I have heard men say, Is to have grieved." To sorrow she was born. It is out of sadness that men have made this world beautiful. If she chooses Idas, then they two will prosper together, grow old together, and last descend into the "natural ground," and "leave behind a wholesome memory on the earth." When she had spoken, Idas with one cry Held her, and there was silence; while the god In anger disappeared. Then slowly they, He looking downward, and she gazing up, Into the evening green wandered away. =91. Clytie.=[113] In the story of Clytie the conditions are reversed. She was a water-nymph and in love with Apollo, who made her no return. So she pined away, sitting all day long upon the cold ground with her unbound tresses streaming over her shoulders. Nine days she sat, and tasted neither food nor drink,--her own tears and the chilly dew her only sustenance. She gazed on the sun when he rose; and as he passed through his daily course to his setting, she saw no other object,--her eyes fixed constantly on him. At last, they say, her limbs took root in the ground and her face became a flower, turning on its stem to follow the journeying sun. In the following lines, Thomas Moore uses the flower as an emblem of constancy: The heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close; As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets The same look that she turned when he rose. [Illustration: FIG. 68. ARTEMIS] =92. Myths of Diana.= In company with her radiant brother, we find Diana subduing Tityus and the Python and assisting in the punishment of Niobe. The speedy transformation of Daphne has been attributed to this goddess, the champion of maidenhood. According to some, it was she, too, that changed Callisto into a bear, when for love of Jupiter that nymph deserted the huntress-band. Numerous are the myths that celebrate the severity of the goddess of the unerring bow toward those who offended her. How she served Agamemnon for slaying one of her hinds is told in the story of Troy;[114] how she punished [OE]neus for omitting a sacrifice to her is narrated in the episode of the Calydonian hunt.[115] Similar attributes of the goddess are exemplified in the myths of Arethusa, Actæon, and Orion. It is only when she is identified with Selene, the peaceful moonlight, that we perceive a softer side of character, such as that displayed in her relations with Endymion. =93. The Flight of Arethusa.=[116] A woodland nymph of Elis was this Arethusa; she delighted not in her comeliness, but in the joys of the chase. One day, returning from the wood heated with exercise, she descended to a stream silently flowing, so clear that you might count the pebbles on the bottom. She laid aside her garments; but while she sported in the water, she heard an indistinct murmur rising as out of the depths of the stream. She made haste to reach the nearest bank. A voice followed her, "Why flyest thou, Arethusa? Alpheüs am I, the god of this stream." The nymph ran, the god pursued. Arethusa, at last exhausted, cried for help to Diana, who, hearing, wrapped her votary in a thick cloud. Perplexed, the river-god still sought the trembling maiden. But a cold sweat came over her. In less time than it takes to tell, she had become a fountain. Alpheüs attempted then to mingle his stream with hers. But the Cynthian queen cleft the ground, and Arethusa, still endeavoring to escape, plunged into the abyss and, passing through the bowels of the earth, came out in Sicily, still followed by the passionate river-god. [Illustration: FIG 69. ARETHUSA] =94. Shelley's Arethusa.= In the following version of the pursuit, Arethusa was already a river when Alpheüs espied her. Arethusa arose From her couch of snows In the Acroceraunian mountains,-- From cloud and from crag, With many a jag, Shepherding her bright fountains, She leapt down the rocks, With her rainbow locks Streaming among the streams;-- Her steps paved with green The downward ravine Which slopes to the western gleams: And gliding and springing She went, ever singing, In murmurs as soft as sleep; The Earth seemed to love her, And Heaven smiled above her, As she lingered towards the deep. Then Alpheüs bold On his glacier cold, With his trident the mountain strook And opened a chasm In the rocks;--with the spasm All Erymanthus shook. And the black south wind It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow, And earthquake and thunder Did rend in sunder The bars of the springs below; The beard and the hair Of the River-god were Seen through the torrent's sweep, As he followed the light Of the fleet nymph's flight To the brink of the Dorian deep. [Illustration: FIG. 70. A YOUNG RIVER-GOD] "Oh, save me! Oh, guide me! And bid the deep hide me, For he grasps me now by the hair!" The loud Ocean heard, To its blue depth stirred, And divided at her prayer; And under the water The Earth's white daughter Fled like a sunny beam; Behind her descended Her billows unblended With the brackish Dorian stream:-- Like a gloomy stain On the emerald main, Alpheüs rushed behind,-- As an eagle pursuing A dove to its ruin Down the streams of the cloudy wind. Under the bowers Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearlèd thrones, Through the coral woods Of the weltering floods, Over heaps of unvalued stones; Through the dim beams Which amid the streams Weave a network of colored light; And under the caves, Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night: Outspeeding the shark, And the swordfish dark, Under the ocean foam, And up through the rifts Of the mountain clifts They past to their Dorian home. And now from their fountains In Enna's mountains, Down one vale where the morning basks, Like friends once parted Grown single-hearted, They ply their watery tasks. At sunrise they leap From their cradles steep In the cave of the shelving hill; At noontide they flow Through the woods below And the meadows of Asphodel: And at night they sleep In the rocking deep Beneath the Ortygian shore;-- Like spirits that lie In the azure sky When they love but live no more. =95. The Fate of Actæon.=[117] Diana's severity toward young Actæon, grandson of Cadmus whose kindred fell under the curse of Mars, is thus narrated. [Illustration: FIG. 71. ACTÆON] One day, having repaired to a valley inclosed by cypresses and pines, where gushed a fountain of sparkling water, the chaste Diana handed her javelin, her quiver, and her bow to one nymph, her robe to another, while a third unbound the sandals from her feet. Then Crocale, the most skillful of them, arranged her hair, and Nephele, Hyale, and the rest drew water in capacious urns. While the huntress queen was thus employed in the labors of the toilet, Actæon, the son of Autonoë and Aristæus, having quitted his companions of the chase and rambling without any especial object, came to the place, led thither by his destiny. As he presented himself at the entrance of the cave, the nymphs, seeing a man, screamed and rushed towards the goddess to hide her with their bodies. But she was taller than the rest and overtopped them all by a head. Such a color as tinges the clouds at sunset or at dawn came over the countenance of Diana, thus taken by surprise. Surrounded as she was by her nymphs, she yet turned half away and sought with a sudden impulse for her arrows. As they were not at hand, she dashed the water into the face of the intruder, saying, "Now go and tell, if you can, that you have seen Diana unappareled." Immediately a pair of branching stag's horns grew out of the huntsman's head, his neck gained in length, his ears grew sharp-pointed, his hands became feet, his arms, his long legs, and his body were covered with a hairy spotted hide. Fear took the place of his former boldness, and the hero fled. What should he do?--go home to the palace or lie hid in the woods? While he hesitated his dogs saw him. Over rocks and cliffs, through mountain gorges that seemed impracticable, he fled, and they followed. The air resounded with the bark of the dogs. Presently one fastened on his back, another seized his shoulder; the rest of the pack came up and buried their teeth in his flesh. His friends and fellow-huntsmen cheered on the dogs, and, looking everywhere for Actæon, called on him to join the sport. At the sound of his name, he turned his head and heard them regret that he should be away. He earnestly wished he was. But Diana had no pity for him, nor was her anger appeased till the dogs had torn his life out. =96. The Fortunes and Death of Orion.= Orion, the son of Neptune, was a giant and a mighty hunter, whose prowess and manly favor gained for him the rare good will of Diana. It is related that he loved Merope, the daughter of [OE]nopion, king of Chios, and sought her in marriage. He cleared the island of wild beasts and brought the spoils of the chase as presents to his beloved; but as [OE]nopion constantly deferred his consent, Orion attempted to gain possession of the maiden by violence. Her father, incensed at his conduct, made Orion drunk, deprived him of his sight, and cast him out on the seashore. The blinded hero, instructed by an oracle to seek the rays of morning, followed the sound of a Cyclops' hammer till he reached Lemnos, where Vulcan, taking pity on him, gave him Cedalion, one of his men, to be his guide to the abode of the sun. Placing Cedalion on his shoulders, Orion proceeded to the east, and there meeting the sun-god, was restored to sight by his beam.[118] After this he dwelt as a hunter with the queen of the echoing chase; and it was even hinted that she loved him. Her brother, highly displeased, often chid her, but to no purpose. One day, therefore, observing Orion as he waded through the sea with his head just above the water, Apollo pointed out the black object to his sister, and maintained that she could not hit it. The archer goddess discharged a shaft with fatal aim: the waves rolled the dead body of Orion to the land. Then bewailing her fatal error with many tears, Diana placed him among the stars, where he appears as a giant, with a girdle, sword, lion's skin, and club. Sirius, his dog, follows him, and the Pleiads fly before him.[119] In the beginning of winter, all through the night, Orion follows the chase across the heavens; but with dawn he sinks toward the waters of his father Neptune. In the beginning of summer, he may be seen with daybreak in the eastern sky, where, beloved by Aurora, he remains gradually paling before the light of day till, finally, Diana, jealous of his happiness, draws her gentle darts and slays him. [Illustration: FIG. 72. THE PLEIADES From the painting by Vedder] =97. The Pleiads=,[120] who still fly before Orion in the heavens, were daughters of Atlas, and nymphs of Diana's train. One day Orion saw them in B[oe]otia, became enamored of them, and gave pursuit. In their distress they prayed to the gods to change their form. Jupiter, accordingly, turned them into pigeons, and made them a constellation. Though their number was seven, only six stars are visible; for Electra, it is said, left her place that she might not behold the ruin of Troy, which had been founded by her son Dardanus. The sight had such an effect on her sisters that they blanched, and have been pale ever since. But Electra became a comet; her hair floating wildly behind her, she still inconsolably ranges the expanse of heaven. According to some, the lost Pleiad is Merope, who was vested with mortality in consequence of her marriage with the mortal Sisyphus, king of Corinth. Tennyson's reference to the Pleiads, in "Locksley Hall," is of course familiar to all readers. [Illustration: FIG. 73. ENDYMION] =98. Endymion.= The frequent absence of Diana from her duties in heaven is said to have awakened suspicion among the deities of Olympus, who doubted whether she actually occupied these intervals with hunting. It is easy to imagine the satisfaction with which Venus, who so often had been reproached by Diana with her undue fondness of beautiful youths, would welcome news of a corresponding weakness on the part of the cold-hearted and apparently unyielding huntress queen. And such satisfaction Venus once enjoyed, if we may trust the later classical and the modern poets who have identified Diana with Selene, the more ancient goddess of the moon. For, one calm, clear night Selene looked down upon the beautiful Endymion, who fed his flock on Mount Latmos, and saw him sleeping. The heart of the goddess was unquestionably warmed by his surpassing beauty. She came down to him; she kissed him; she watched over him while he slept. She visited him again and again. But her secret could not long be hidden from the company of Olympus. For more and more frequently she was absent from her station in the sky, and toward morning she was ever paler and more weary with her watching. When, finally, her love was discovered, Jupiter gave Endymion, who had been thus honored, a choice between death in any manner that was preferable, or perpetual youth united with perpetual sleep. Endymion chose the latter. He still sleeps in his Carian cave, and still the mistress of the moon slips from her nocturnal course to visit him. She takes care, too, that his fortunes shall not suffer by his inactive life: she yields his flock increase, and guards his sheep and lambs from beasts of prey.[121] Keats, whose Endymion journeys on a mission under sea, thus describes a meeting of the goddess and her lover: On gold sand impearled With lily shells and pebbles milky white, Poor Cynthia greeted him, and soothed her light Against his pallid face: he felt the charm To breathlessness, and suddenly a warm Of his heart's blood: 'twas very sweet; he stayed His wandering steps, and half-entrancèd laid His head upon a tuft of straggling weeds, To taste the gentle moon, and freshening beads, Lashed from the crystal roof by fishes' tails. And so he kept, until the rosy veils, Mantling the east, by Aurora's peering hand Were lifted from the water's breast, and fanned Into sweet air; and sobered morning came Meekly through billows:--when like taper-flame Left sudden by a dallying breath of air, He rose in silence, and once more 'gan fare Along his fated way.[122] =99. Myths of Venus.= Round the goddess of love cluster romances of her own tender passion, of the affairs of the winged Cupid, and of the loves of the worshipers at her shrine. Of the affection of Venus for Mars and of her relations with Anchises,[123] the father of Æneas, mention is elsewhere made. The following is the myth of Venus and Adonis. =100. Adonis.=[124] The sweetly smiling goddess, playing one day with her boy Cupid, wounded her bosom with one of his arrows. Before the wound healed, she looked upon Adonis, the son of Cinyras and Myrrha, and was captivated by him. She no longer took any interest in her favorite resorts,--Paphos, and Cnidos, and Amathus, rich in metals. She absented herself even from Olympus, for Adonis was dearer to her than heaven. Him she followed and bore him company. She who loved to recline in the shade, with no care but to cultivate her charms, now rambled through the woods and over the hills, girt like the huntress Diana. She chased game that is safe to hunt, but kept clear of the wolves and bears. She charged Adonis, too, to beware of dangerous animals. "Be brave toward the timid," she would say, "courage against the courageous is not safe." Having thus, on one occasion, warned him, she mounted her chariot drawn by swans and drove away through the air. But Adonis was too noble to heed such counsels. The dogs had roused a wild boar from his lair, and the youth threw his spear and wounded the animal with a sidelong stroke. The beast drew out the weapon with his jaws, and, rushing after Adonis, buried his tusks in the lad's side, and stretched him dying upon the plain. The rest of the story is thus recounted: THE LAMENT FOR ADONIS[125] ... Low on the hills is lying the lovely Adonis, and his thigh with the boar's tusk, his white thigh with the boar's tusk, is wounded; and sorrow on Cypris he brings, as softly he breathes his life away. His dark blood drips down his skin of snow; beneath his brows his eyes wax heavy and dim; and the rose flees from his lip, and thereon the very kiss is dying, the kiss that Cypris will never forego. [Illustration: PETWORTH APHRODITE] ... She hath lost her lovely lord, with him she hath lost her sacred beauty. Fair was the form of Cypris while Adonis was living, but her beauty has died with Adonis! _Woe, woe for Cypris_, the mountains all are saying. And the oak trees answer, _Woe for Adonis!_ And the rivers bewail the sorrows of Aphrodite, and the wells are weeping Adonis on the mountains. The flowers flush red for anguish, and Cytherea through all the mountain-knees, through every dell, doth shrill the piteous dirge: _Woe, woe for Cytherea, he hath_ _perished, the lovely Adonis!_ ... When she saw, when she marked the unstanched wound of Adonis, when she saw the bright red blood about his languid thigh, she cast her arms abroad, and moaned, "Abide with me, Adonis, hapless Adonis, abide!... Awake, Adonis, for a little while, and kiss me yet again, the latest kiss!... This kiss will I treasure, even as thyself, Adonis, since, ah, ill-fated, thou art fleeing me, thou art fleeing far, Adonis, and art faring to Acheron, to that hateful king and cruel, while wretched I yet live, being a goddess, and may not follow thee! Persephone, take thou my lover, my lord, for thyself art stronger than I, and all lovely things drift down to thee. But I am ill-fated, inconsolable is my anguish; and I lament mine Adonis, dead to me, and I have no rest for sorrow. "Thou diest, oh, thrice-desired, and my desire hath flown away as a dream! Nay, widowed is Cytherea, and idle are the Loves along the halls! With thee has the girdle of my beauty perished. For why, ah, overbold, didst thou follow the chase, and being so fair, why wert thou thus overhardy to fight with beasts?" So Cypris bewailed her, the Loves join in the lament: _Woe, woe for Cytherea, he hath_ _perished, the lovely Adonis!_ [Illustration: FIG. 74. THE DEATH OF ADONIS] A tear the Paphian sheds for each blood-drop of Adonis, and tears and blood on the earth are turned to flowers. The blood brings forth the rose; the tears, the wind-flower. _Woe, woe for Adonis, he hath perished, the lovely Adonis!_ ... Cease, Cytherea, from thy lamentations, to-day refrain from thy dirges. Thou must again bewail him, again must weep for him another year. =101. Cupid and Psyche.=[126] A certain king and queen had three daughters. The charms of the two elder were more than common, but the beauty of the youngest was such that the poverty of language is unable to express its praise. In fact, Venus found her altars deserted, while men paid their vows to this virgin. When Psyche passed, the people sang her praises and strewed her way with chaplets and flowers. This perversion of homage gave great offense to Venus, who complained that Paris might just as well not have yielded her the palm of beauty over Pallas and Juno, if a mortal were thus to usurp her honors. Wherefore she called Cupid and, pointing out Psyche to him, bade him infuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, unworthy being. There were in Venus's garden two fountains,--one of sweet waters, the other of bitter. Cupid filled two amber vases, one from each fountain, and suspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of Psyche, whom he found asleep. He shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips, though the sight of her almost moved him to pity; and then he touched her side with the point of his arrow. She awoke, and opening her eyes upon Cupid (himself invisible), so startled him that in his confusion he wounded himself with his arrow. Heedless of his wound, his thought now was to repair the mischief he had done. He poured, at once, the waters of joy over her silken ringlets. But Psyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, derived no benefit from her charms. Her two elder sisters had long been married to princes; but Psyche's beauty failed to awaken love. Consequently her parents, afraid that they had unwittingly incurred the anger of the gods, consulted the oracle of Apollo. They received answer, "The virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover. Her husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist." This dreadful decree of the oracle filled the people with dismay; but, at Psyche's request, preparations for her fate were made. The royal maid took her place in a procession, which more resembled a funeral than a nuptial pomp, and with her parents, amid the lamentations of their subjects, ascended the mountain, where she was left alone. While Psyche stood there, panting with fear and with eyes full of tears, the gentle Zephyr lifted her and, with an easy motion, bore her to a flowery dale. By degrees her mind became composed, and she laid herself down on the grassy bank to sleep. When she awoke refreshed with sleep, she beheld near by a pleasant grove of tall and stately trees. Entering, she discovered in the midst a fountain, and fast by a palace whose august front showed that it was not the work of mortal hands, but the happy retreat of some god. She approached the building and entered. Every object she met filled her with pleasure and amazement. Golden pillars supported the vaulted roof, and the walls were enriched with carvings and paintings that represented beasts of the chase and rural scenes. Other apartments were filled with still other beautiful and precious productions of nature and art. While her eyes were thus occupied, the voice of an invisible being addressed her: "Sovereign lady, all that thou beholdest is thine. We whose voices thou dost hear are thy servants. Retire, we pray thee, to thy chamber, repose on thy bed of down, and when it may please thee repair to the bath. Food awaits in the adjoining alcove." After repose and the refreshment of the bath, Psyche seated herself in the alcove, where, without any visible aid, a table immediately presented itself, covered with delicacies and nectareous wines. Her ears, too, were delighted with music from invisible performers. For a long time she did not see her husband. He came in the hours of darkness and fled before the dawn of morning; but his accents were full of love and inspired a like passion in her. Often she begged him to stay and let her behold him, but he would not consent. "Having looked upon me," he said, "mayhap thou wouldst fear, mayhap adore, me; but all I ask of thee is love. I would rather thou shouldst love me as an equal than adore me as a god." This reasoning somewhat quieted Psyche for a time. But the thought of her parents and of her sisters, left in ignorance of her fate, preyed on her mind to such a degree that at last, telling her distress to her lord, she drew from him an unwilling consent that her sisters should be brought to see her. [Illustration: FIG. 75. PSYCHE AT THE COUCH OF CUPID From the painting by Thumann] Zephyr, promptly obedient, soon brought them across the mountain down to their sister's valley. They embraced her. She returned their caresses, and then committed them to the care of her attendant voices, who should refresh them in her bath and at her table, and show them her treasures. The view of these delights caused envy to enter their bosoms. They plied their fortunate sister with questions about her husband. Psyche replied that he was a beautiful youth, who generally spent the daytime in hunting upon the mountains. The sisters, not satisfied with this reply, soon made her confess that she had never seen him. Then they proceeded to fill her bosom with dark suspicions. Probably her husband was a dreadful monster, such as the Pythian oracle had prophesied. Probably he was a direful serpent, who nourished her now to devour her by and by. They advised her to provide herself against the night with a lamp and a sharp knife, told her what to do if her husband turned out the monster that they surmised, and, so saying, departed. These persuasions Psyche resisted as well as she could, but they did not fail to have their effect on her mind. She prepared a lamp and a sharp knife, and hid them out of sight of her husband. That night, when he had fallen into his first sleep, she silently rose and uncovering her lamp-- Scarce kept back a cry At what she saw; for there before her lay The very Love brighter than dawn of day; And as he lay there smiling, her own name His gentle lips in sleep began to frame, And, as to touch her face, his hand did move; O then, indeed, her faint heart swelled for love, And she began to sob, and tears fell fast Upon the bed.--But as she turned at last To quench the lamp, there happed a little thing That quenched her new delight, for flickering The treacherous flame cast on his shoulder fair A burning drop; he woke, and seeing her there The meaning of that sad sight knew full well, Nor was there need the piteous tale to tell.[127] Without a word, Cupid spread his white wings, and flew out of window. Psyche, in vain endeavoring to follow, fell to the earth. For but an instant Cupid, staying, reproached her with distrust of him. "No other punishment inflict I than to leave thee forever. Love cannot dwell with suspicion." And so he flew away. When Psyche had recovered some degree of composure, she looked around her. The palace and gardens had vanished. She found herself not far from the city where her sisters dwelt. Thither she repaired, and told them the story of her misfortunes, whereat they inwardly rejoiced. "For now," thought they, "he will perhaps choose one of us." With this idea, they rose early the next morning and, ascending the mountain, each called upon Zephyr to receive her and bear her to his lord; then, leaping up, failed of the support of Zephyr, fell down the precipice, and was dashed to pieces. Psyche, meanwhile, wandered day and night, without food or repose, in search of her husband. But he was lying heartsick in the chamber of his mother; and that goddess was absent upon her own affairs. Then the white sea gull which floats over the waves dived into the middle deep, And rowing with his glistening wings arrived At Aphrodite's bower beneath the sea. She, as yet unaware of her son's mischance, was joyously consorting with her handmaidens; but he, the sea gull, But he with garrulous and laughing tongue Broke up his news; how Eros fallen sick Lay tossing on his bed, to frenzy stung By such a burn as did but barely prick: A little bleb, no bigger than a pease, Upon his shoulder 'twas, that killed his ease, Fevered his heart, and made his breathing thick. "For which disaster hath he not been seen This many a day at all in any place: And thou, dear mistress," said he, "hast not been Thyself among us now a dreary space: And pining mortals suffer from a dearth Of love; and for this sadness of the earth Thy family is darkened with disgrace.... "'Tis plain that, if thy pleasure longer pause, Thy mighty rule on earth hath seen its day: The race must come to perish, and no cause But that thou sittest with thy nymphs at play, While on the Cretan hills thy truant boy Has with his pretty mistress turned to toy, And, less for pain than love, now pines away."[128] And Venus cried angrily, "My son, then, has a mistress! And it is Psyche, who witched away my beauty and was the rival of my godhead, whom he loves!" Therewith she issued from the sea, and, returning to her golden chamber, found there the lad sick, as she had heard, and cried from the doorway, "Well done, truly! to trample thy mother's precepts under foot, to spare my enemy that cross of an unworthy love; nay, unite her to thyself, child as thou art, that I might have a daughter-in-law who hates me! I will make thee repent of thy sport, and the savor of thy marriage bitter. There is one who shall chasten this body of thine, put out thy torch, and unstring thy bow. Not till she has plucked forth that hair, into which so oft these hands have smoothed the golden light, and sheared away thy wings, shall I feel the injury done me avenged." And with this she hastened in anger from the doors. And Ceres and Juno met her, and sought to know the meaning of her troubled countenance. "Ye come in season," she cried; "I pray you, find for me Psyche. It must needs be that ye have heard the disgrace of my house." And they, ignorant of what was done, would have soothed her anger, saying, "What fault, Mistress, hath thy son committed, that thou wouldst destroy the girl he loves? Knowest thou not that he is now of age? Because he wears his years so lightly must he seem to thee ever to be a child? Wilt thou forever thus pry into the pastimes of thy son, always accusing his wantonness, and blaming in him those delicate wiles which are all thine own?" Thus, in secret fear of the boy's bow, did they seek to please him with their gracious patronage. But Venus, angry at their light taking of her wrongs, turned her back upon them, and with hasty steps made her way once more to the sea.[129] And soon after, Psyche herself reached the temple of Ceres, where she won the favor of the goddess by arranging in due order the heaps of mingled grain and ears and the carelessly scattered harvest implements that lay there. The holy Ceres then counseled her to submit to Venus, to try humbly to win her forgiveness, and, mayhap, through her favor regain the lover that was lost. Obeying the commands of Ceres, Psyche took her way to the temple of the golden-crowned Cypris. That goddess received her with angry countenance, called her an undutiful and faithless servant, taunted her with the wound given to her husband, and insisted that for so ill-favored a girl there was no way of meriting a lover save by dint of industry. Thereupon she ordered Psyche to be led to the storehouse of the temple, where was laid up a great quantity of wheat, barley, millet, vetches, beans, and lentils prepared for food for her pigeons, and gave order, "Take and separate all these grains, putting all of the same kind in a parcel by themselves,--and see that thou get it done before evening." This said, Venus departed and left the girl to her task. But Psyche, in perfect consternation at the enormous task, sat stupid and silent; nor would the work have been accomplished had not Cupid stirred up the ants to take compassion on her. They separated the pile, sorting each kind to its parcel and vanishing out of sight in a moment. At the approach of twilight, Cytherea returned from the banquet of the gods, breathing odors and crowned with roses. Seeing the task done, she promptly exclaimed, "This is no work of thine, wicked one, but his, whom to thine own and his misfortune thou hast enticed,"--threw the girl a piece of black bread for her supper, and departed. Next morning, however, the goddess, ordering Psyche to be summoned, commanded her to fetch a sample of wool gathered from each of the golden-shining sheep that fed beyond a neighboring river. Obediently the princess went to the riverside, prepared to do her best to execute the command. But the god of that stream inspired the reeds with harmonious murmurs that dissuaded her from venturing among the golden rams while they raged under the influence of the rising sun. Psyche, observing the directions of the compassionate river-god, crossed when the noontide sun had driven the cattle to the shade, gathered the woolly gold from the bushes where it was clinging, and returned to Venus with her arms full of the shining fleece. But, far from commending her, that implacable mistress said, "I know very well that by the aid of another thou hast done this; not yet am I assured that thou hast skill to be of use. Here, now, take this box to Proserpine and say, 'My mistress Venus entreats thee to send her a little of thy beauty, for in tending her sick son she hath lost some of her own.'" Psyche, satisfied that her destruction was at hand, doomed as she was to travel afoot to Erebus, thought to shorten the journey by precipitating herself at once from the summit of a tower. But a voice from the tower, restraining her from this rash purpose, explained how by a certain cave she might reach the realm of Pluto; how she might avoid the peril of the road, pass by Cerberus, and prevail on Charon to take her across the black river and bring her back again. The voice, also, especially cautioned her against prying into the box filled with the beauty of Proserpine. So, taking heed to her ways, the unfortunate girl traveled safely to the kingdom of Pluto. She was admitted to the palace of Proserpine, where, contenting herself with plain fare instead of the delicious banquet that was offered her, she delivered her message from Venus. Presently the box, filled with the precious commodity, was restored to her; and glad was she to come out once more into the light of day. But having got so far successfully through her dangerous task, a desire seized her to examine the contents of the box, and to spread the least bit of the divine beauty on her cheeks that she might appear to more advantage in the eyes of her beloved husband. Therewith down by the wayside did she sit And turned the box round, long regarding it; But at the last, with trembling hands, undid The clasp, and fearfully raised up the lid; But what was there she saw not, for her head Fell back, and nothing she rememberèd Of all her life, yet nought of rest she had, The hope of which makes hapless mortals glad; For while her limbs were sunk in deadly sleep Most like to death, over her heart 'gan creep Ill dreams; so that for fear and great distress She would have cried, but in her helplessness Could open not her mouth, or frame a word.[130] But Cupid, now recovered from his wound, slipped through a crack in the window of his chamber, flew to the spot where his beloved lay, gathered up the sleep from her body and inclosed it again in the box, then waked Psyche with the touch of an arrow. "Again," said he, "hast thou almost perished by thy curiosity. But now perform the task imposed upon thee by my mother, and I will care for the rest." [Illustration: FIG. 76. PSYCHE AND CUPID ON MOUNT OLYMPUS From the painting by Thumann] Then Cupid, swift as lightning penetrating the heights of heaven, presented himself before Jupiter with his supplication. Jupiter lent a favoring ear and pleaded the cause of the lovers with Venus. Gaining her consent, he ordered Mercury to convey Psyche to the heavenly abodes. On her advent, the king of the immortals, handing her a cup of ambrosia, said, "Drink this, Psyche, and be immortal. Thy Cupid shall never break from the knot in which he is tied; these nuptials shall indeed be perpetual." Thus Psyche was at last united to Cupid; and in due season a daughter was born to them whose name was Pleasure. The allegory of Cupid and Psyche is well presented in the following lines: They wove bright fables in the days of old, When reason borrowed fancy's painted wings; When truth's clear river flowed o'er sands of gold, And told in song its high and mystic things! And such the sweet and solemn tale of her The pilgrim-heart, to whom a dream was given, That led her through the world,--Love's worshiper,-- To seek on earth for him whose home was heaven! [Illustration: EROS WITH BOW] In the full city,--by the haunted fount,-- Through the dim grotto's tracery of spars,-- 'Mid the pine temples, on the moonlit mount, Where silence sits to listen to the stars; In the deep glade where dwells the brooding dove, The painted valley, and the scented air, She heard far echoes of the voice of Love, And found his footsteps' traces everywhere. But never more they met! since doubts and fears, Those phantom-shapes that haunt and blight the earth, Had come 'twixt her, a child of sin and tears, And that bright spirit of immortal birth; Until her pining soul and weeping eyes Had learned to seek him only in the skies; Till wings unto the weary heart were given, And she became Love's angel bride in heaven![131] The story of Cupid and Psyche first appears in the works of Apuleius, a writer of the second century of our era. It is therefore of much more recent date than most of the classic myths. =102. Keats' Ode to Psyche.= To this fact allusion is made in the following poem: O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should be sung Even into thine own soft-conchèd ear: Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I see The wingèd Psyche with awakened eyes? I wandered in a forest thoughtlessly, And, on the sudden, fainting with surprise, Saw two fair creatures, couchèd side by side In deepest grass, beneath the whispering roof Of leaves and tumbled blossoms, where there ran A brooklet, scarce espied! 'Mid hushed, cool-rooted flowers, fragrant-eyed, Blue, silver-white, and budded Tyrian, They lay calm-breathing on the bedded grass; Their arms embracèd, and their pinions, too; Their lips touched not, but had not bade adieu, As if disjoinèd by soft-handed slumber, And ready still past kisses to outnumber At tender eye-dawn of Aurorean love: The wingèd boy I knew: But who wast thou, O happy, happy dove? His Psyche true! O latest born and loveliest vision far Of all Olympus' faded hierarchy! Fairer than Ph[oe]be's sapphire-regioned star, Or Vesper, amorous glowworm of the sky; Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none, Nor altar heaped with flowers; Nor virgin-choir to make delicious moan Upon the midnight hours; No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet From chain-swung censer teeming; No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming. O brightest! though too late for antique vows Too, too late for the fond believing lyre, When holy were the haunted forest boughs, Holy the air, the water, and the fire; Yet even in these days so far retired From happy pieties, thy lucent fans, Fluttering among the faint Olympians, I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspired. So let me be thy choir, and make a moan Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swingèd censer teeming, Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming. Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane In some untrodden region of my mind, Where branchèd thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain, Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind: Far, far around shall those dark clustered trees Fledge the wild-ridgèd mountains steep by steep; And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds and bees, The moss-lain Dryads shall be lulled to sleep; And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreathèd trellis of a working brain, With buds, and bells, and stars without a name, With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign, Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same; And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in! The loves of the devotees of Venus are as the sands of the sea for number. Below are given the fortunes of a few: Hippomenes, Hero, Pygmalion, Pyramus, and Phaon. The favor of the goddess toward Paris, who awarded her the palm of beauty in preference to Juno and Minerva, will occupy our attention in connection with the story of the Trojan War. [Illustration: FIG. 77. ARTEMIS OF GABII] =103. Atalanta's Race.=[132] Atalanta, the daughter of Sch[oe]neus of B[oe]otia, had been warned by an oracle that marriage would be fatal to her happiness. Consequently she fled the society of men and devoted herself to the sports of the chase. Fair, fearless, swift, and free, in beauty and in desire she was a Cynthia,--of mortal form and with a woman's heart. To all suitors (for she had many) she made answer: "I will be the prize of him only who shall conquer me in the race; but death must be the penalty of all who try and fail." In spite of this hard condition some would try. Of one such race Hippomenes was to be judge. It was his thought, at first, that these suitors risked too much for a wife. But when he saw Atalanta lay aside her robe for the race with one of them, he changed his mind and began to swell with envy of whomsoever seemed likely to win. The virgin darted forward. As she ran she looked more beautiful than ever. The breezes gave wings to her feet; her hair flew over her shoulders, and the gay fringe of her garment fluttered behind her. A ruddy hue tinged the whiteness of her skin, such as a crimson curtain casts on a marble wall. Her competitor was distanced and was put to death without mercy. Hippomenes, not daunted by this result, fixed his eyes on the virgin and said, "Why boast of beating those laggards? I offer myself for the contest." Atalanta looked at him with pity in her face and hardly knew whether she would rather conquer so goodly a youth or not. While she hesitated, the spectators grew impatient for the contest and her father prompted her to prepare. Then Hippomenes addressed a prayer to Cypris: "Help me, Venus, for thou hast impelled me." Venus heard and was propitious. [Illustration: FIG. 78. ATALANTA'S RACE From the painting by Poynter] She gathered three golden apples from the garden of her temple in her own island of Cyprus and, unseen by any, gave them to Hippomenes, telling him how to use them. Atalanta and her lover were ready. The signal was given. They both started; he, by one stride, first, For she half pitied him so beautiful, Running to meet his death, yet was resolved To conquer: soon she near'd him, and he felt The rapid and repeated gush of breath Behind his shoulder. From his hand now dropt A golden apple: she lookt down and saw A glitter on the grass, yet on she ran. He dropt a second; now she seem'd to stoop: He dropt a third; and now she stoopt indeed: Yet, swifter than a wren picks up a grain Of millet, rais'd her head: it was too late, Only one step, only one breath, too late. Hippomenes had toucht the maple goal With but two fingers, leaning pronely forth. She stood in mute despair; the prize was won. Now each walkt slowly forward, both so tired, And both alike breathed hard, and stopt at times. When he turn'd round to her, she lowered her face Cover'd with blushes, and held out her hand, The golden apple in it. "Leave me now," Said she, "I must walk homeward." He did take The apple and the hand. "Both I detain," Said he, "the other two I dedicate To the two Powers that soften virgin hearts, Eros and Aphrodite; and this one To her who ratifies the nuptial vow." She would have wept to see her father weep; But some God pitied her, and purple wings (What God's were they?) hovered and interposed.[133] But the oracle was yet to be fulfilled. The lovers, full of their own happiness, after all, forgot to pay due honor to Aphrodite, and the goddess was provoked at their ingratitude. She caused them to give offense to Cybele. That powerful goddess took from them their human form: the huntress heroine, triumphing in the blood of her lovers, she made a lioness; her lord and master a lion,--and yoked them to her car, where they are still to be seen in all representations in statuary or painting of the goddess Cybele. =104 Hero and Leander= were star-crossed lovers of later classical fiction.[134] Although their story is not of supernatural beings, or of events necessarily influenced by supernatural agencies, and therefore not mythical in the strict sense of the word, it deserves to be included here both because of its pathetic beauty and its long literary tradition. The poet Marlowe puts the story into English thus: On Hellespont, guilty of true love's blood, In view and opposite two cities stood, Sea-borderers, disjoin'd by Neptune's might The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight. At Sestos Hero dwelt; Hero the fair, Whom young Apollo courted for her hair, And offer'd as a dower his burning throne, Where she should sit, for men to gaze upon.... Some say, for her the fairest Cupid pin'd, And, looking in her face, was strooken blind. But this is true: so like was one the other, As he imagined Hero was his mother; And oftentimes into her bosom flew, About her naked neck his bare arms threw, And laid his childish head upon her breast, And, with still panting rockt, there took his rest. In Abydos dwelt the manly Leander, who, as luck would have it, bethought himself one day of the festival of Venus in Sestos, and thither fared to do obeisance to the goddess. On this feast-day,--O cursèd day and hour!-- Went Hero through Sestos, from her tower To Venus' temple, where unhappily, As after chanc'd, they did each other spy. So fair a church as this had Venus none; The walls were of discolored jasper-stone, ... And in the midst a silver altar stood: There Hero, sacrificing turtle's blood, Vail'd to the ground, veiling her eyelids close; And modestly they opened as she rose: Thence flew Love's arrow with the golden head; And thus Leander was enamourèd. Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gaz'd, Till with the fire, that from his countenance blaz'd, Relenting Hero's gentle heart was strook: Such power and virtue hath an amorous look. It lies not in our power to love or hate, For will in us is overrul'd by fate. When two are stript long e'er the course begin, We wish that one should lose, the other win; And one especially do we affect Of two gold ingots, like in each respect: The reason no man knows; let it suffice, What we behold is censur'd by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight? He kneel'd; but unto _her_ devoutly prayed: Chaste Hero to herself thus softly said, "Were I the saint he worships, I would hear him"; And, as she spake those words, came somewhat near him. He started up; she blush'd as one asham'd; Wherewith Leander much more was inflam'd. He touch'd her hand; in touching it she trembled: Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.... So they conversed by touch of hands, till Leander, plucking up courage, began to plead with words, with sighs and tears. These arguments he us'd, and many more; Wherewith she yielded, that was won before. Hero's looks yielded, but her words made war: Women are won when they begin to jar. Thus having swallow'd Cupid's golden hook, The more she striv'd, the deeper was she strook: Yet, evilly feigning anger, strove she still, And would be thought to grant against her will. So having paus'd awhile, at last she said, "Who taught thee rhetoric to deceive a maid? Ay me! such words as these should I abhor, And yet I like them for the orator." With that Leander stoop'd to have embrac'd her, But from his spreading arms away she cast her, And thus bespake him: "Gentle youth, forbear To touch the sacred garments which I wear." ... Then she told him of the turret by the murmuring sea where all day long she tended Venus' swans and sparrows: "Come thither." As she spake this, her tongue tripp'd, For unawares, "Come thither," from her slipp'd; And suddenly her former color chang'd, And here and there her eyes through anger rang'd; And, like a planet moving several ways At one self instant, she, poor soul, assays, Loving, not to love at all, and every part Strove to resist the motions of her heart: And hands so pure, so innocent, nay, such As might have made Heaven stoop to have a touch, Did she uphold to Venus, and again Vow'd spotless chastity; but all in vain; Cupid beats down her prayers with his wings.... [Illustration: FIG. 79. HERO AND LEANDER From the painting by Keller] For a season all went well. Guided by a torch which his mistress reared upon the tower, he was wont of nights to swim the strait that he might enjoy her company. But one night a tempest arose and the sea was rough; his strength failed and he was drowned. The waves bore his body to the European shore, where Hero became aware of his death, and in her despair cast herself into the sea and perished. A picture of the drowning Leander is thus described by Keats:[135] Come hither all sweet maidens soberly, Down looking aye, and with a chasten'd light, Hid in the fringe of your eyelids white, And meekly let your fair hands joinèd be, As if so gentle that ye could not see, Untouch'd, a victim of your beauty bright, Sinking away to his young spirit's night, Sinking bewilder'd 'mid the dreary sea: 'Tis young Leander toiling to his death; Nigh swooning he doth purse his weary lips For Hero's cheek, and smiles against her smile. O horrid dream! see how his body dips Dead-heavy; arms and shoulders gleam awhile; He's gone; up bubbles all his amorous breath! =105. Pygmalion and the Statue.=[136] Pygmalion saw so much to blame in women, that he came at last to abhor the sex and resolved to live unmarried. He was a sculptor, and had made with wonderful skill a statue of ivory, so beautiful that no living woman was to compare with it. It was indeed the perfect semblance of a maiden that seemed to be alive and that was prevented from moving only by modesty. His art was so perfect that it concealed itself, and its product looked like the workmanship of nature. Pygmalion at last fell in love with his counterfeit creation. Oftentimes he laid his hand upon it as if to assure himself whether it were living or not, and could not even then believe that it was only ivory. The festival of Venus was at hand,--a festival celebrated with great pomp at Cyprus. Victims were offered, the altars smoked, and the odor of incense filled the air. When Pygmalion had performed his part in the solemnities, he stood before the altar and, according to one of our poets, timidly said: O Aphrodite, kind and fair, That what thou wilt canst give, Oh, listen to a sculptor's prayer, And bid mine image live! For me the ivory and gold That clothe her cedar frame Are beautiful, indeed, but cold; Ah, touch them with thy flame! Oh, bid her move those lips of rose, Bid float that golden hair, And let her choose me, as I chose, This fairest of the fair! And then an altar in thy court I'll offer, decked with gold; And there thy servants shall resort, Thy doves be bought and sold![137] According to another version of the story, he said not, "bid mine image live," but "one like my ivory virgin." At any rate, with such a prayer he threw incense on the flame of the altar. Whereupon Venus, as an omen of her favor, caused the flame to shoot up thrice a fiery point into the air. When Pygmalion reached his home, to his amazement he saw before him his statue garlanded with flowers. Yet while he stood, and knew not what to do With yearning, a strange thrill of hope there came, A shaft of new desire now pierced him through, And therewithal a soft voice called his name, And when he turned, with eager eyes aflame, He saw betwixt him and the setting sun The lively image of his lovèd one. He trembled at the sight, for though her eyes, Her very lips, were such as he had made, And though her tresses fell but in such guise As he had wrought them, now was she arrayed In that fair garment that the priests had laid Upon the goddess on that very morn, Dyed like the setting sun upon the corn. Speechless he stood, but she now drew anear, Simple and sweet as she was wont to be, And once again her silver voice rang clear, Filling his soul with great felicity, And thus she spoke, "Wilt thou not come to me, O dear companion of my new-found life, For I am called thy lover and thy wife?... "My sweet," she said, "as yet I am not wise, Or stored with words aright the tale to tell, But listen: when I opened first mine eyes I stood within the niche thou knowest well, And from my hand a heavy thing there fell Carved like these flowers, nor could I see things clear, But with a strange, confusèd noise could hear. "At last mine eyes could see a woman fair, But awful as this round white moon o'erhead, So that I trembled when I saw her there, For with my life was born some touch of dread, And therewithal I heard her voice that said, 'Come down and learn to love and be alive, For thee, a well-prized gift, to-day I give.'"[138] A fuller account of Venus' address to the statue is the following: O maiden, in mine image made! O grace that shouldst endure! While temples fall, and empires fade, Immaculately pure: Exchange this endless life of art For beauty that must die, And blossom with a beating heart Into mortality! Change, golden tresses of her hair, To gold that turns to gray; Change, silent lips, forever fair, To lips that have their day! Oh, perfect arms, grow soft with life, Wax warm, ere cold ye wane; Wake, woman's heart, from peace to strife, To love, to joy, to pain![139] The maiden was called Galatea. Venus blessed the nuptials, and from the union Paphos was born, by whose name the city, sacred to Venus, is known. =106. Pyramus and Thisbe.=[140] Pyramus was the handsomest youth and Thisbe the fairest maiden in Babylonia, where Semiramis reigned. Their parents occupied adjoining houses. Propinquity brought the young people together, and acquaintance ripened into love. They would gladly have married, but their parents forbade. One thing, however, parents could not forbid (for Venus and Cupid favored the match),--that love should glow with equal ardor in the bosoms of both. They conversed by signs and glances, and the fire burned the more intensely that it was covered. In the wall between the two houses there was a crack, caused by some fault in the structure. It afforded a passage to the voice; and tender messages passed back and forth through the gap. When night came and they must say farewell, the lovers pressed their lips upon the wall, she on her side, he on his. [Illustration: FIG. 80. THISBE From the painting by Edward Burne-Jones] One morning, when Aurora had put out the stars and the sun had melted the frost from the grass, they met at the accustomed spot and arranged a meeting for that night at a well-known edifice, standing without the city's bounds,--the Tomb of Ninus. The one who first arrived should await the other at the foot of a white mulberry tree near a cool spring. Evening came. Thisbe, arriving first, sat alone by the monument in the dim light of the evening. Suddenly she descried a lioness, her jaws reeking with recent slaughter, approaching the fountain to slake her thirst. The maiden fled at the sight, dropping her veil as she ran. The lioness, after drinking at the spring, turned toward the woods, and, seeing the veil on the ground, tossed and rent it with her bloody mouth. Now Pyramus approached the place of meeting. He saw in the sand the footsteps of the lion. He found the veil all rent and bloody. "O, hapless girl," cried he, "I have been the cause of thy death; but I follow thee!" So saying, he drew his sword and plunged it into his heart. The blood spurted from the wound and tinged the white mulberries of the tree all red, and, sinking into the earth, reached the roots, so that the sanguine hue mounted through the trunk to the fruit. By this time Thisbe, still trembling with fear, yet wishing not to disappoint her lover, stepped cautiously forth, looking anxiously for the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped. When she came to the spot and saw the changed color of the mulberries, she doubted whether it was the same place. While she hesitated, she saw the form of her lover struggling in the agonies of death. She screamed and beat her breast, she embraced the lifeless body, poured tears into its wounds, and imprinted kisses on the cold lips. "O, Pyramus," she cried, "what has done this? It is thine own Thisbe that speaks." At the name of Thisbe Pyramus opened his eyes, then closed them again. She saw her veil stained with blood and the scabbard empty of its sword. "Thine own hand has slain thee, and for my sake," she said. "I, too, can be brave for once, and my love is as strong as thine. But ye, unhappy parents of us both, deny us not our united request. As love and death have joined us, let one tomb contain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. Let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood." So saying, she plunged the sword into her breast. The two bodies were buried in one sepulcher, and the tree henceforth produced purple berries. =107. Phaon= ferried a boat between Lesbos and Chios. One day the queen of Paphos and Amathus,[141] in the guise of an ugly crone, begged a passage, which was so good-naturedly granted that in recompense she bestowed on the ferryman a salve possessing magical properties of youth and beauty. As a consequence of the use made of it by Phaon, the women of Lesbos went wild for love of him. None, however, admired him more than the poetess Sappho, who addressed to him some of her warmest and rarest love-songs. =108. The Vengeance of Venus.= Venus did not fail to follow with her vengeance those who dishonored her rites or defied her power. The youth Hippolytus who, eschewing love, preferred Diana to her, she brought miserably to his ruin. Polyphonte she transformed into an owl, Arsinoë into a stone, and Myrrha into a myrtle tree.[142] Her influence in the main was of mingled bane and blessing, as in the cases of Helen, [OE]none, Pasiphaë, Ariadne, Procris, Eriphyle, Laodamia, and others whose stories are elsewhere told.[143] =109. Myths of Mercury.= According to Homer,[144] Maia bore Mercury at the peep of day,--a schemer subtle beyond all belief. He began playing on the lyre at noon; for, wandering out of the lofty cavern of Cyllene, he found a tortoise, picked it up, bored the life out of the beast, fitted the shell with bridge and reeds, and accompanied himself therewith as he sang a strain of unpremeditated sweetness. At evening of the same day he stole the oxen of his half brother Apollo from the Pierian mountains, where they were grazing. He covered their hoofs with tamarisk twigs, and, still further to deceive the pursuer, drove them backward into a cave at Pylos. There rubbing laurel branches together, he made fire and sacrificed, as an example for men to follow, two heifers to the twelve gods (himself included). Then home he went and slept, innocent as a new-born child! To his mother's warning that Apollo would catch and punish him, this innocent replied, in effect, "I know a trick better than that!" And when the puzzled Apollo, having traced the knavery to this babe in swaddling clothes, accused him of it, the sweet boy swore a great oath by his father's head that he stole not the cows, nor knew even what cows might be, for he had only that moment heard the name of them. Apollo proceeded to trounce the baby, with scant success, however, for Mercury persisted in his assumption of ignorance. So the twain appeared before their sire, and Apollo entered his complaint: he had not seen nor ever dreamed of so precocious a cattle-stealer, liar, and full-fledged knave as this young rascal. To all of which Mercury responded that he was, on the contrary, a veracious person, but that his brother Apollo was a coward to bully a helpless little new-born thing that slept, nor ever had thought of "lifting" cattle. The wink with which the lad of Cyllene accompanied this asseveration threw Jupiter into uncontrollable roars of laughter. Consequently, the quarrel was patched up: Mercury gave Apollo the new-made lyre; Apollo presented the prodigy with a glittering whiplash and installed him herdsman of his oxen. Nay even, when Mercury had sworn by sacred Styx no more to try his cunning in theft upon Apollo, that god in gratitude invested him with the magic wand of wealth, happiness, and dreams (the _caduceus_), it being understood, however, that Mercury should indicate the future only by signs, not by speech or song as did Apollo. It is said that the god of gain avenged himself for this enforced rectitude upon others: upon Venus, whose girdle he purloined; upon Neptune, whose trident he filched; upon Vulcan, whose tongs he borrowed; and upon Mars, whose sword he stole. [Illustration: HERMES OF PRAXITELES] [Illustration: FIG. 81. HERMES AND DOG] The most famous exploit of the Messenger, the slaughter of Argus, has already been narrated. FOOTNOTES: [66] Ovid, Metam. I, 700 _et seq._ [67] Ovid, Metam. 2, 410 _et seq._ [68] Translated by Andrew Lang: Theocritus, Bion, and Moschus, London, 1880. [69] § 70. [70] Ovid, Metam. 3, 260 _et seq._ [71] §§ 42, 110-113. [72] From E. R. Sill's Semele. [73] Commentary, §§ 118, 255. [74] Ovid, Metam. 7, 172 _et seq._ [75] Roscher, Ausf. Lex. Lfg. 3, 379 [Schirmer]. Originals in Pausanias, Apollodorus, and Hyginus. [76] From Tennyson's Amphion. See Horace, Ars Poet. 394. [77] Ovid, Metam. 8, 620-724. [78] From The Sons of Cydippe, by Edmund Gosse in his On Viol and Flute. [79] § 27, and Commentary. [80] From Ovid. [81] From Spenser's Muiopotmos. [82] Ovid, Metam. 6, 1-145. [83] § 200. [84] Iliad, 5, 850 _et seq._ (Lang, Leaf, and Myers' translation). In accordance with the system of nomenclature adopted in this work, Latin equivalents are given, wherever possible, for Greek names. [85] Iliad, 21, 390 (Lang, Leaf, and Myers' translation). [86] Ovid, Metam. 3, 1-137; 4, 563-614. [87] Iliad, 2, 1335. [88] Ovid, Metam. 6, 313-381. [89] § 30. [90] Roscher, Ausf. Lex. Lfg. 2, 254, Article _Aloadæ_ [Schultz]. [91] Ovid, Metam. 10, 162-219. [92] Ovid, Metam. 2, 1-400. [93] § 44. [94] _Medio tutissimus ibis._--OVID. [95] _Hic situs est Phaëthon, currus auriga paterni,_ _Quem si non tenuit, magnis tamen excidit ausis._--OVID. [96] Iliad, 1, 43-52 (Lang, Leaf, and Myers' translation). [97] Ovid, Metam. 6, 165-312. [98] From W. S. Landor's Niobe. [99] See Commentary, §§ 64, 80. [100] Iliad, 18, 564 (Lang, Leaf, and Myers' translation). [101] Cicero, Natura Deorum, 3, 22. [102] See Commentary. [103] From Browning's Balaustion's Adventure. The Greek form of the proper names has been retained. [104] Proserpine. [105] For the originals, see Iliad, 2, 715, and the Alcestis of Euripides. [106] Ovid, Metam. 11, 146-193. [107] § 118. [108] § 145. [109] Ovid, Metam. 1, 452-567. [110] From the Fable for Critics. [111] Iliad, 9, 561; Apollodorus, 1, 7, § 8. [112] Stephen Phillips, Marpessa. [113] Ovid, Metam. 4, 256-270. [114] § 196. [115] § 168. [116] Ovid, Metam. 5, 585-641. [117] Ovid, Metam. 3, 138-252. [118] Apollodorus, 1, 4, § 3. [119] Ovid, Fasti, 5, 537; Iliad, 18, 486, and 22, 29; Odyssey, 5, 121, 274. [120] The story is told by Hyginus in his Fables, and in his Poetical Astronomy. [121] Authorities are Pausanias, 5, 1, §§ 2-4; Ovid, Ars. Am. 3, 83; Tristia, 2, 299; Apollonius, and Apollodorus. [122] From the Endymion, Bk. 3. [123] § 194. [124] Ovid, Metam. 10, 503-559, 708-739. [125] From an elegy intended to be sung at one of the spring celebrations in memory of Adonis. Translated from Bion by Andrew Lang. _Cypris_, _Cytherea_, and the _Paphian_ refer to Venus. See Commentary. This elegy is also translated by Mrs. Browning and by Sir Edwin Arnold. [126] Apuleius, Metam. Golden Ass, 4, 28, etc. [127] William Morris, The Story of Cupid and Psyche, in The Earthly Paradise. [128] Robert Bridges, Eros and Psyche. [129] The last three paragraphs are from Pater's version in Marius the Epicurean. [130] William Morris, The Earthly Paradise. [131] By T. K. Hervey. [132] Ovid, Metam. 10, 560-680. [133] From W. S. Landor's Hippomenes and Atalanta. [134] The poetical passages are from Marlowe's Hero and Leander, First Sestiad. Marlowe's narrative was completed by Chapman. See Musæus of Alexandria, De Amore Herois et Leandri; Virg. Georg. 3, 258; Ovid, Her. 18, 19; Stat. Theb. 6, 770. [135] Sonnet, On a Picture of Leander. [136] Ovid, Metam. 10, 243-297. [137] Andrew Lang, The New Pygmalion. [138] From William Morris, Pygmalion and the Image, in The Earthly Paradise. [139] Andrew Lang, The New Pygmalion, or The Statue's Choice. A witty and not unpoetic bit of burlesque. [140] Ovid, Metam. 4, 55-166. [141] § 100, and Commentary. [142] Murray, Manual of Mythology, p. 87; Ovid, Metam. 10, 298-502. [143] See Index for sections. [144] Hymn to Mercury (Hermes). CHAPTER VIII MYTHS OF THE GREAT DIVINITIES OF EARTH =110. Myths of Bacchus.= Since the adventures of Ceres, although she was a goddess of earth, are intimately connected with the life of the underworld, they will be related in the sections pertaining to Proserpine and Pluto. The god of vernal sap and vegetation, of the gladness that comes of youth or of wine, the golden-curled, sleepy-eyed Bacchus (Dionysus),--his wanderings, and the fortunes of mortals brought under his influence (Pentheus, Acetes, Ariadne, and Midas), here challenge our attention. [Illustration: FIG. 82. SILENUS TAKING DIONYSUS TO SCHOOL] =111. The Wanderings of Bacchus.= After the death of Semele,[145] Jove took the infant Bacchus and gave him in charge to the Nysæan nymphs, who nourished his infancy and childhood and for their care were placed by Jupiter, as the Hyades, among the stars. Another guardian and tutor of young Bacchus was the pot-bellied, jovial Silenus, son of Pan and a nymph, and oldest of the Satyrs. Silenus was probably an indulgent preceptor. He was generally tipsy and would have broken his neck early in his career, had not the Satyrs held him on his ass's back as he reeled along in the train of his pupil. After Bacchus was of age, he discovered the culture of the vine and the mode of extracting its precious juice; but Juno struck him with madness and drove him forth a wanderer through various parts of the earth. In Phrygia the goddess Rhea cured him and taught him her religious rites; and then he set out on a progress through Asia, teaching the people the cultivation of the vine. The most famous part of his wanderings is his expedition to India, which is said to have lasted several years. Returning in triumph, he undertook to introduce his worship into Greece, but was opposed by certain princes who dreaded the disorders and madness it brought with it. Finally, he approached his native city Thebes, where his own cousin, Pentheus, son of Agave and grandson of Harmonia and Cadmus, was king. Pentheus, however, had no respect for the new worship and forbade its rites to be performed.[146] But when it was known that Bacchus was advancing, men and women, young and old, poured forth to meet him and to join his triumphal march. [Illustration: FIG. 83. BEARDED DIONYSUS AND SATYR] Fauns with youthful Bacchus follow; Ivy crowns that brow, supernal As the forehead of Apollo, And possessing youth eternal. Round about him fair Bacchantes, Bearing cymbals, flutes, and thyrses, Wild from Naxian groves or Zante's Vineyards, sing delirious verses.[147] It was in vain Pentheus remonstrated, commanded, and threatened. His nearest friends and wisest counselors begged him not to oppose the god. Their remonstrances only made him the more violent. =112. The Story of Acetes.= Soon the attendants returned who had been dispatched to seize Bacchus. They had succeeded in taking one of the Bacchanals prisoner, whom, with his hands tied behind him, they brought before the king. Pentheus, threatening him with death, commanded him to tell who he was and what these new rites were that he presumed to celebrate. [Illustration: FIG. 84. SATYR AND MÆNAD WITH CHILD DIONYSUS] The prisoner, unterrified, replied that he was Acetes of Mæonia; that his parents, being poor, had left him their fisherman's trade, which he had followed till he had acquired the pilot's art of steering his course by the stars. It once happened that he had touched at the island of Dia and had sent his men ashore for fresh water. They returned, bringing with them a lad of delicate appearance whom they had found asleep. Judging him to be a noble youth, they thought to detain him in the hope of liberal ransom. But Acetes suspected that some god was concealed under the youth's exterior, and asked pardon for the violence done. Whereupon the sailors, enraged by their lust of gain, exclaimed, "Spare thy prayers for us!" and, in spite of the resistance offered by Acetes, thrust the captive youth on board and set sail. Then Bacchus (for the youth was indeed he), as if shaking off his drowsiness, asked what the trouble was and whither they were carrying him. One of the mariners replied, "Fear nothing; tell us where thou wouldst go, and we will convey thee thither." "Naxos is my home," said Bacchus; "take me there, and ye shall be well rewarded." They promised so to do; but, preventing the pilot from steering toward Naxos, they bore away for Egypt, where they might sell the lad into slavery. Soon the god looked out over the sea and said in a voice of weeping, "Sailors, these are not the shores ye promised me; yonder island is not my home. It is small glory ye shall gain by cheating a poor boy." Acetes wept to hear him, but the crew laughed at both of them and sped the vessel fast over the sea. All at once it stopped in mid-sea, as fast as if it were fixed on the ground. The men, astonished, pulled at their oars and spread more sail, but all in vain. Ivy twined round the oars and clung to the sails, with heavy clusters of berries. A vine laden with grapes ran up the mast and along the sides of the vessel. The sound of flutes was heard, and the odor of fragrant wine spread all around. The god himself had a chaplet of vine leaves and bore in his hand a spear wreathed with ivy. Tigers crouched at his feet, and forms of lynxes and spotted panthers played around him. The whole crew became dolphins and swam about the ship. Of twenty men Acetes alone was left. "Fear not," said the god; "steer towards Naxos." The pilot obeyed, and when they arrived there, kindled the altars and celebrated the sacred rites of Bacchus. [Illustration: FIG. 85. DIONYSUS AT SEA] So far had Acetes advanced in his narrative, when Pentheus, interrupting, ordered him off to his death. But from this fate the pilot, rendered invisible by his patron deity, was straightway rescued. Meanwhile, the mountain Cithæron seemed alive with worshipers, and the cries of the Bacchanals resounded on every side. Pentheus, angered by the noise, penetrated through the wood and reached an open space where the chief scene of the orgies met his eyes. At the same moment the women saw him, among them his mother Agave, and Autonoë and Ino, her sisters. Taking him for a wild boar, they rushed upon him and tore him to pieces,--his mother shouting, "Victory! Victory! the glory is ours!" So the worship of Bacchus was established in Greece. It was on the island of Naxos that Bacchus afterward found Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, king of Crete, who had been deserted by her lover, Theseus. How Bacchus comforted her is related in another section. How the god himself is worshiped is told by Edmund Gosse in the poem from which the following extracts are taken: [Illustration: FIG. 86. BACCHIC PROCESSION] Behold, behold! the granite gates unclose, And down the vales a lyric people flows; Dancing to music, in their dance they fling Their frantic robes to every wind that blows, And deathless praises to the vine-god sing. Nearer they press, and nearer still in sight, Still dancing blithely in a seemly choir; Tossing on high the symbol of their rite, The cone-tipped thyrsus of a god's desire; Nearer they come, tall damsels flushed and fair, With ivy circling their abundant hair; Onward, with even pace, in stately rows, With eye that flashes, and with cheek that glows, And all the while their tribute-songs they bring, And newer glories of the past disclose, And deathless praises to the vine-god sing. ... But oh! within the heart of this great flight, Whose ivory arms hold up the golden lyre? What form is this of more than mortal height? What matchless beauty, what inspirèd ire! The brindled panthers know the prize they bear, And harmonize their steps with stately care; Bent to the morning, like a living rose, The immortal splendor of his face he shows, And where he glances, leaf and flower and wing Tremble with rapture, stirred in their repose, And deathless praises to the vine-god sing....[148] [Illustration: FIG. 87. DIONYSUS VISITING A POET] =113. The Choice of King Midas.=[149] Once Silenus, having wandered from the company of Bacchus in an intoxicated condition, was found by some peasants, who carried him to their king, Midas. Midas entertained him royally and on the eleventh day restored him in safety to his divine pupil. Whereupon Bacchus offered Midas his choice of a reward. The king asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into gold. Bacchus consented. Midas hastened to put his new-acquired power to the test. A twig of an oak, which he plucked from the branch, became gold in his hand. He took up a stone; it changed to gold. He touched a sod with the same result. He took an apple from the tree; you would have thought he had robbed the garden of the Hesperides. He ordered his servants, then, to set an excellent meal on the table. But, to his dismay, when he touched bread, it hardened in his hand; when he put a morsel to his lips, it defied his teeth. He took a glass of wine, but it flowed down his throat like melted gold. He strove to divest himself of his power; he hated the gift he had lately coveted. He raised his arms, all shining with gold, in prayer to Bacchus, begging to be delivered from this glittering destruction. The merciful deity heard and sent him to wash away his fault and its punishment in the fountainhead of the river Pactolus. Scarce had Midas touched the waters, before the gold-creating power passed into them, and the river sands became golden, as they remain to this day. Thenceforth Midas, hating wealth and splendor, dwelt in the country and became a worshiper of Pan, the god of the fields. But that he had not gained common sense is shown by the decision that he delivered somewhat later in favor of Pan's superiority, as a musician, over Apollo.[150] FOOTNOTES: [145] § 60. [146] Ovid, Metam. 3, 511-733. [147] Longfellow, Drinking Song. [148] From The Praise of Dionysus. [149] Ovid, Metam. 11, 85-145. [150] See § 85. [Illustration: FIG. 88. RAPE OF PROSERPINA] CHAPTER IX FROM THE EARTH TO THE UNDERWORLD =114. Myths of Ceres, Pluto, and Proserpine.= The search of Ceres for Proserpine, and of Orpheus for Eurydice, are stories pertaining both to Earth and Hades. =115. The Rape of Proserpine.=[151] When the giants were imprisoned by Jupiter under Mount Ætna, Pluto (Hades) feared lest the shock of their fall might expose his kingdom to the light of day. Under this apprehension, he mounted his chariot drawn by black horses, and made a circuit of inspection to satisfy himself of the extent of the damage. While he was thus engaged, Venus, who was sitting on Mount Eryx playing with her boy Cupid, espied him and said, "My son, take thy darts which subdue all, even Jove himself, and send one into the breast of yonder dark monarch, who rules the realm of Tartarus. Dost thou not see that even in heaven some despise our power? Minerva and Diana defy us; and there is that daughter of Ceres, goddess of earth, who threatens to follow their example. Now, if thou regardest thine own interest or mine, join these two in one." The boy selected his sharpest and truest arrow, and sped it right to the heart of Pluto. In the vale of Enna is a lake embowered in woods, where Spring reigns perpetual. Here Proserpine (Persephone) was playing with her companions, gathering lilies and violets, and singing, one may imagine, such words as our poet Shelley puts into her mouth: Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth, Thou from whose immortal bosom, Gods, and men, and beasts, have birth, Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom, Breathe thine influence most divine On thine own child, Proserpine. If with mists of evening dew Thou dost nourish these young flowers Till they grow, in scent and hue, Fairest children of the hours, Breathe thine influence most divine On thine own child, Proserpine.[152] Pluto saw her, loved her, and carried her off. She screamed for help to her mother and her companions; but the ravisher urged on his steeds and outdistanced pursuit. When he reached the river Cyane, it opposed his passage, whereupon he struck the bank with his trident, and the earth opened and gave him a passage to Tartarus. =116. The Wanderings of Ceres.=[153] Ceres (Demeter) sought her daughter all the world over. Bright-haired Aurora, when she came forth in the morning, and Hesperus, when he led out the stars in the evening, found her still busy in the search. At length, weary and sad, she sat down upon a stone, and remained nine days and nights in the open air, under the sunlight and moonlight and falling showers. It was where now stands the city of Eleusis, near the home of an old man named Celeus. His little girl, pitying the old woman, said to her, "Mother,"--and the name was sweet to the ears of Ceres,--"why sittest thou here alone upon the rocks?" The old man begged her to come into his cottage. She declined. He urged her. "Go in peace," she replied, "and be happy in thy daughter; I have lost mine." But their compassion finally prevailed. Ceres rose from the stone and went with them. As they walked, Celeus said that his only son lay sick of a fever. The goddess stooped and gathered some poppies. Then, entering the cottage, where all was in distress,--for the boy Triptolemus seemed past recovery,--she restored the child to life and health with a kiss. In grateful happiness the family spread the table and put upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. While they ate, Ceres mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy. When night came, she arose and, taking the sleeping boy, molded his limbs with her hands, and uttered over him three times a solemn charm, then went and laid him in the ashes. His mother, who had been watching what her guest was doing, sprang forward with a cry and snatched the child from the fire. Then Ceres assumed her own form, and a divine splendor shone all around. While they were overcome with astonishment, she said, "Mother, thou hast been cruel in thy fondness; for I would have made thy son immortal. Nevertheless, he shall be great and useful. He shall teach men the use of the plow and the rewards which labor can win from the soil." So saying, she wrapped a cloud about her and mounting her chariot rode away. [Illustration: FIG. 89. HADES AND PERSEPHONE] Ceres continued her search for her daughter till at length she returned to Sicily, whence she first had set out, and stood by the banks of the river Cyane. The river nymph would have told the goddess all she had witnessed, but dared not, for fear of Pluto; so she ventured merely to take up the girdle which Proserpine had dropped in her flight, and float it to the feet of the mother. Ceres, seeing this, laid her curse on the innocent earth in which her daughter had disappeared. Then succeeded drought and famine, flood and plague, until, at last, the fountain Arethusa made intercession for the land. For she had seen that it opened only unwillingly to the might of Pluto; and she had also, in her flight from Alpheüs through the lower regions of the earth, beheld the missing Proserpine. She said that the daughter of Ceres seemed sad, but no longer showed alarm in her countenance. Her look was such as became a queen,--the queen of Erebus; the powerful bride of the monarch of the realms of the dead. [Illustration: FIG. 90. SACRIFICE TO DEMETER AND PERSEPHONE] When Ceres heard this, she stood awhile like one stupefied; then she implored Jupiter to interfere to procure the restitution of her daughter. Jupiter consented on condition that Proserpine should not during her stay in the lower world have taken any food; otherwise, the Fates forbade her release. Accordingly, Mercury was sent, accompanied by Spring, to demand Proserpine of Pluto. The wily monarch consented; but alas! the maiden had taken a pomegranate which Pluto offered her, and had sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds. A compromise, however, was effected by which she was to pass half the time with her mother, and the rest with the lord of Hades. Of modern poems upon the story of the maiden seized in the vale of Enna, none conveys a lesson more serene of the beauty of that dark lover of all fair life, Death, than the Proserpine of Woodberry, from which we quote the three following stanzas. "I pick," says the poet wandering through the vale of Enna, I pick the flowers that Proserpine let fall, Sung through the world by every honeyed muse: Wild morning-glories, daisies waving tall, At every step is something new to choose; And oft I stop and gaze Upon the flowery maze; By yonder cypresses on that soft rise, Scarce seen through poppies and the knee-deep wheat, Juts the dark cleft where on her came the fleet Thunder-black horses and the cloud's surprise And he who filled the place. Did marigolds bright as these, gilding the mist, Drop from her maiden zone? Wert thou last kissed, Pale hyacinth, last seen, before his face? * * * * * Oh, whence has silence stolen on all things here, Where every sight makes music to the eye? Through all one unison is singing clear; All sounds, all colors in one rapture die. Breathe slow, O heart, breathe slow! A presence from below Moves toward the breathing world from that dark deep, Whereof men fabling tell what no man knows, By little fires amid the winter snows, When earth lies stark in her titanic sleep And doth with cold expire; He brings thee all, O Maiden flower of earth, Her child in whom all nature comes to birth, Thee, the fruition of all dark desire. * * * * * O Proserpine, dream not that thou art gone Far from our loves, half-human, half-divine; Thou hast a holier adoration won In many a heart that worships at no shrine. Where light and warmth behold me, And flower and wheat infold me, I lift a dearer prayer than all prayers past: He who so loved thee that the live earth clove Before his pathway unto light and love, And took thy flower-full bosom,--who at last Shall every blossom cull,-- Lover the most of what is most our own, The mightiest lover that the world has known, Dark lover, Death,--was he not beautiful?[154] [Illustration: FIG. 91. TRIPTOLEMUS AND THE ELEUSINIAN DEITIES] =117. Triptolemus and the Eleusinian Mysteries.= Ceres, pacified with this arrangement, restored the earth to her favor. Now she remembered, also, Celeus and his family, and her promise to his infant son Triptolemus. She taught the boy the use of the plow and how to sow the seed. She took him in her chariot, drawn by winged dragons, through all the countries of the earth; and under her guidance he imparted to mankind valuable grains and the knowledge of agriculture. After his return Triptolemus built a temple to Ceres in Eleusis and established the worship of the goddess under the name of the Eleusinian mysteries, which in the splendor and solemnity of their observance surpassed all other religious celebrations among the Greeks. [Illustration: FIG. 92. DEMETER, TRIPTOLEMUS, AND PROSERPINA] =118. Orpheus and= =Eurydice.=[155] Of mortals who have visited Hades and returned, none has a sweeter or sadder history than Orpheus, son of Apollo and the Muse Calliope. Presented by his father with a lyre and taught to play upon it, he became the most famous of musicians, and not only his fellow mortals but even the wild beasts were softened by his strains. The very trees and rocks were sensible to the charm. And so also was Eurydice,--whom he loved and won. [Illustration: FIG. 93. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE From the painting by Lord Leighton] Hymen was called to bless with his presence the nuptials of Orpheus with Eurydice, but he conveyed no happy omens with him. His torch smoked and brought tears into the eyes. In keeping with such sad prognostics, Eurydice, shortly after her marriage, was seen by the shepherd Aristæus, who was struck with her beauty and made advances to her. As she fled she trod upon a snake in the grass, and was bitten in the foot. She died. Orpheus sang his grief to all who breathed the upper air, both gods and men, and finding his complaint of no avail, resolved to seek his wife in the regions of the dead. He descended by a cave situated on the side of the promontory of Tænarus, and arrived in the Stygian realm. He passed through crowds of ghosts and presented himself before the throne of Pluto and Proserpine. Accompanying his words with the lyre, he sang his petition for his wife. Without her he would not return. In such tender strains he sang that the very ghosts shed tears. Tantalus, in spite of his thirst, stopped for a moment his efforts for water, Ixion's wheel stood still, the vulture ceased to tear the giant's liver, the daughters of Danaüs rested from their task of drawing water in a sieve, and Sisyphus sat on his rock to listen.[156] Then for the first time, it is said, the cheeks of the Furies were wet with tears. Proserpine could not resist and Pluto himself gave way. Eurydice was called. She came from among the new-arrived ghosts, limping with her wounded foot. Orpheus was permitted to take her away with him on condition that he should not turn round to look at her till they should have reached the upper air. Under this condition they proceeded on their way, he leading, she following. Mindful of his promise, without let or hindrance the bard passed through the horrors of hell. All Hades held its breath. [Illustration: FIG. 94. FAREWELL OF ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE] ... On he slept, And Cerberus held agape his triple jaws; On stept the bard. Ixion's wheel stood still. Now, past all peril, free was his return, And now was hastening into upper air Eurydice, when sudden madness seized The incautious lover; pardonable fault, If they below could pardon: on the verge Of light he stood, and on Eurydice (Mindless of fate, alas! and soul-subdued) Lookt back. There, Orpheus! Orpheus! there was all Thy labor shed, there burst the Dynast's bond, And thrice arose that rumor from the lake. "Ah, what!" she cried, "what madness hath undone Me! and, ah, wretched! thee, my Orpheus, too! For lo! the cruel Fates recall me now; Chill slumbers press my swimming eyes.... Farewell! Night rolls intense around me as I spread My helpless arms ... thine, thine no more ... to thee." She spake, and, like a vapor, into air Flew, nor beheld him as he claspt the void And sought to speak; in vain; the ferry-guard Now would not row him o'er the lake again, His wife twice lost, what could he? whither go? What chant, what wailing, move the Powers of Hell? Cold in the Stygian bark and lone was she. Beneath a rock o'er Strymon's flood on high, Seven months, seven long-continued months, 'tis said, He breath'd his sorrows in a desert cave, And sooth'd the tiger, moved the oak, with song.[157] The Thracian maidens tried their best to captivate him, but he repulsed their advances. Finally, excited by the rites of Bacchus, one of them exclaimed, "See yonder our despiser!" and threw at him her javelin. The weapon, as soon as it came within the sound of his lyre, fell harmless at his feet; so also the stones that they threw at him. But the women, raising a scream, drowned the voice of the music, and overwhelmed him with their missiles. Like maniacs they tore him limb from limb; then cast his head and lyre into the river Hebrus, down which they floated, murmuring sad music to which the shores responded. The Muses buried the fragments of his body at Libethra, where the nightingale is said to sing over his grave more sweetly than in any other part of Greece. His lyre was placed by Jupiter among the stars; but the shade of the bard passed a second time to Tartarus and rejoined Eurydice. Other mortals who visited the Stygian realm and returned were Hercules, Theseus, Ulysses, and Æneas.[158] FOOTNOTES: [151] Ovid, Metam. 5, 341-347. [152] Song of Proserpine, while gathering flowers on the plain of Enna. [153] Ovid, Metam. 5. 440, 642; Apollodorus, 1, 5, § 2; Hyginus, Fab. 147. [154] From Proserpine, stanzas written by Lake Pergusa; by George E. Woodberry (_Century_ _Magazine_, July, 1909). [155] Ovid, Metam. 10, 1-77. [156] See Commentary [157] From W. S. Landor's Orpheus and Eurydice in Dry Sticks. [158] See Index. CHAPTER X MYTHS OF NEPTUNE, RULER OF THE WATERS [Illustration: FIG. 95. POSEIDON] =119. Lord of the Sea.= Neptune (Poseidon) was lord both of salt waters and of fresh. The myths that turn on his life as lord of the sea illustrate his defiant invasions of lands belonging to other gods, or his character as earth shaker and earth protector. Of his contests with other gods, that with Minerva for Athens has been related. He contested Corinth with Helios, Argos with Juno, Ægina with Jove, Naxos with Bacchus, and Delphi with Apollo. That he did not always make encroachments in person upon the land that he desired to possess or to punish, but sent some monster instead, will be seen in the myth of Andromeda[159] and in the following story of Hesione,[160] the daughter of Laomedon of Troy. Neptune and Apollo had fallen under the displeasure of Jupiter after the overthrow of the giants. They were compelled, it is said, to resign for a season their respective functions and to serve Laomedon, then about to build the city of Troy. They aided the king in erecting the walls of the city but were refused the wages agreed upon. Justly offended, Neptune ravaged the land by floods and sent against it a sea monster, to satiate the appetite of which the desperate Laomedon was driven to offer his daughter Hesione. But Hercules appeared upon the scene, killed the monster, and rescued the maiden. Neptune, however, nursed his wrath; and it was still warm when the Greeks marched against Troy. Of a like impetuous and ungovernable temper were the sons of Neptune by mortal mothers. From him were sprung the savage Læstrygonians, Orion, the Cyclops Polyphemus, the giant Antæus whom Hercules slew, Procrustes, and many another redoubtable being whose fortunes are elsewhere recounted.[161] =120. Lord of Streams and Fountains.= As earth shaker, the ruler of the deep was known to effect convulsions of nature that made Pluto leap from his throne lest the firmament of the underworld might be falling about his ears. But as god of the streams and fountains, Neptune displayed milder characteristics. When Amymone, sent by her father Danaüs to draw water, was pursued by a satyr, Neptune gave ear to her cry for help, dispatched the satyr, made love to the maiden, and boring the earth with his trident called forth the spring that still bears the Danaïd's name. He loved the goddess Ceres also, through whose pastures his rivers strayed; and Arne the shepherdess, daughter of King Æolus, by whom he became the forefather of the B[oe]otians. His children, Pelias and Neleus, by the princess Tyro, whom he wooed in the form of her lover Enipeus, became keepers of horses--animals especially dear to Neptune. Perhaps it was the similarity of horse-taming to wave-taming that attracted the god to these quadrupeds; perhaps it was because they increased in beauty and speed on the pastures watered by his streams. It is said, indeed, that the first and fleetest of horses, Arion, was the offspring of Neptune and Ceres, or of Neptune and a Fury. =121. Pelops and Hippodamia.=[162] To Pelops, brother of Niobe, Neptune imparted skill in training and driving horses,--and with good effect. For it happened that Pelops fell in love with Hippodamia, daughter of [OE]nomaüs, king of Elis and son of Mars,--a girl of whom it was reported that none could win her save by worsting the father in a chariot race, and that none might fail in that race and come off alive. Since an oracle, too, had warned [OE]nomaüs to beware of the future husband of his daughter, he had provided himself with horses whose speed was like the cyclone. But Pelops, obtaining from Neptune winged steeds, entered the race and won it,--whether by the speed of his horses or by the aid of Hippodamia, who, it is said, bribed her father's charioteer, Myrtilus, to take a bolt out of the chariot of [OE]nomaüs, is uncertain. At any rate, Pelops married Hippodamia. He was so injudicious, however, as to throw Myrtilus into the sea; and from that treachery sprang the misfortunes of the house of Pelops. For Myrtilus, dying, cursed the murderer and his race. [Illustration: FIG. 96. PELOPS WINNING THE RACE, HIPPODAMIA LOOKING ON] FOOTNOTES: [159] § 154. [160] Iliad, 5, 649; Apollodorus, 3, 12, § 7. [161] See Index. [162] Hyginus, Fab. 84, 253; Pindar, Olymp. 1, 114. CHAPTER XI MYTHS OF THE LESSER DIVINITIES OF HEAVEN =122. Myths of Stars and Winds.= The tales of Stars and Winds and the other lesser powers of the celestial regions are closely interwoven. That the winds which sweep heaven should kiss the stars is easy to understand. The stories of Aurora (Eos) and of Aura, of Phosphor and of Halcyone, form, therefore, a ready sequence. [Illustration: FIG. 97. PHOSPHOR, EOS, AND HELIOS (THE SUN) RISING FROM THE SEA] =123. Cephalus and Procris.=[163] Aurora, the goddess of the dawn, fell in love with Cephalus, a young huntsman. She stole him away, lavished her love upon him, tried to content him, but in vain. He cared for his young wife Procris more than for the goddess. Finally, Aurora dismissed him in displeasure, saying, "Go, ungrateful mortal, keep thy wife; but thou shalt one day be sorry that thou didst ever see her again." Cephalus returned and was as happy as before in his wife. She, being a favorite of Diana, had received from her for the chase a dog and a javelin, which she handed over to her husband. Of the dog it is told that when about to catch the swiftest fox in the country, he was changed with his victim into stone. For the heavenly powers, who had made both and rejoiced in the speed of both, were not willing that either should conquer. The javelin was destined to a sad office. It appears that Cephalus, when weary of the chase, was wont to stretch himself in a certain shady nook to enjoy the breeze. Sometimes he would say aloud, "Come, gentle Aura, sweet goddess of the breeze, come and allay the heat that burns me." Some one, foolishly believing that he addressed a maiden, told the secret to Procris. Hoping against hope, she stole out after him the next morning and concealed herself in the place which the informer had indicated. Cephalus, when tired with sport, stretched himself on the green bank and summoned fair Aura as usual. Suddenly he heard, or thought he heard, a sound as of a sob in the bushes. Supposing it to proceed from some wild animal, he threw his javelin at the spot. A cry told him that the weapon had too surely met its mark. He rushed to the place and raised his wounded Procris from the earth. She, at last, opened her feeble eyes and forced herself to utter these words: "I implore thee, if thou hast ever loved me, if I have ever deserved kindness at thy hands, my husband, grant me this last request; marry not that odious Breeze!" So saying, she expired in her lover's arms. [Illustration: FIG. 98. SUN, RISING, PRECEDED BY DAWN From the painting by Guido Reni] [Illustration: FIG. 99. SUNRISE; EOS PURSUING CEPHALUS] =124. Dobson's The Death of= =Procris.= A different version of the story is given in the following: Procris, the nymph, had wedded Cephalus;-- He, till the spring had warmed to slow-winged days Heavy with June, untired and amorous, Named her his love; but now, in unknown ways, His heart was gone; and evermore his gaze Turned from her own, and even farther ranged His woodland war; while she, in dull amaze, Beholding with the hours her husband changed, Sighed for his lost caress, by some hard god estranged. So, on a day, she rose and found him not. Alone, with wet, sad eye, she watched the shade Brighten below a soft-rayed sun that shot Arrows of light through all the deep-leaved glade; Then, with weak hands, she knotted up the braid Of her brown hair, and o'er her shoulders cast Her crimson weed; with faltering fingers made Her golden girdle's clasp to join, and past Down to the trackless wood, full pale and overcast. And all day long her slight spear devious flew, And harmless swerved her arrows from their aim, For ever, as the ivory bow she drew, Before her ran the still unwounded game. Then, at the last, a hunter's cry there came, And, lo! a hart that panted with the chase. Thereat her cheek was lightened as with flame, And swift she gat her to a leafy place, Thinking, "I yet may chance unseen to see his face." Leaping he went, this hunter Cephalus, Bent in his hand his cornel bow he bare, Supple he was, round-limbed and vigorous, Fleet as his dogs, a lean Laconian pair. He, when he spied the brown of Procris' hair Move in the covert, deeming that apart Some fawn lay hidden, loosed an arrow there; Nor cared to turn and seek the speeded dart, Bounding above the fern, fast following up the hart. But Procris lay among the white wind-flowers, Shot in the throat. From out the little wound The slow blood drained, as drops in autumn showers Drip from the leaves upon the sodden ground. None saw her die but Lelaps, the swift hound, That watched her dumbly with a wistful fear, Till, at the dawn, the hornèd wood-men found And bore her gently on a sylvan bier, To lie beside the sea,--with many an uncouth tear. =125. Ceyx and Halcyone.= The son of Aurora and Cephalus was Phosphor, the Star of Morning. His son Ceyx, king of Trachis in Thessaly, had married Halcyone, daughter of Æolus.[164] Their reign was happy until the brother of Ceyx met his death. The direful prodigies that followed this event made Ceyx feel that the gods were hostile to him. He thought best therefore to make a voyage to Claros in Ionia to consult the oracle of Apollo. In spite of his wife's entreaties (for as daughter of the god of winds she knew how dreadful a thing a storm at sea was), Ceyx set sail. He was shipwrecked and drowned. His last prayer was that the waves might bear his body to the sight of Halcyone, and that it might receive burial at her hands. In the meanwhile, Halcyone counted the days till her husband's promised return. To all the gods she offered frequent incense, but more than all to Juno. The goddess, at last, could not bear to be further pleaded with for one already dead. Calling Iris, she enjoined her to approach the drowsy dwelling of Somnus and bid him send a vision to Halcyone in the form of Ceyx, to reveal the sad event. [Illustration: FIG. 100. THE GOD OF SLEEP] Iris puts on her robe of many colors, and tinging the sky with her bow, seeks the cave near the Cimmerian country, which is the abode of the dull god, Somnus. Here Ph[oe]bus dare not come. Clouds and shadows are exhaled from the ground, and the light glimmers faintly. The cock never there calls aloud to Aurora, nor watchdog nor goose disturbs the silence. No wild beast, nor cattle, nor branch moved with the wind, nor sound of human conversation breaks the stillness. From the bottom of the rock the river Lethe flows, and by its murmur invites to sleep. Poppies grow before the door of the cave, from whose juices Night distills slumbers which she scatters over the darkened earth. There is no gate to creak on its hinges, nor any watchman. In the midst, on a couch of black ebony adorned with black plumes and black curtains the god reclines, his limbs relaxed in sleep. Around him lie dreams, resembling all various forms, as many as the harvest bears stalks, or the forest leaves, or the seashore sand grains. Brushing away the dreams that hovered around her, Iris lit up the cave and delivered her message to the god, who, scarce opening his eyes, had great difficulty in shaking himself free from himself. Then Iris hasted away from the drowsiness creeping over her, and returned by her bow as she had come. But Somnus called one of his sons, Morpheus, the most expert in counterfeiting forms of men, to perform the command of Iris; then laid his head on his pillow and yielded himself again to grateful repose. Morpheus flew on silent wings to the Hæmonian city, where he assumed the form of Ceyx. Pale like a dead man, naked and dripping, he stood before the couch of the wretched wife and told her that the winds of the Ægean had sunk his ship, that he was dead. Weeping and groaning, Halcyone sprang from sleep and, with the dawn, hastening to the seashore, descried an indistinct object washed to and fro by the waves. As it floated nearer she recognized the body of her husband. In despair, leaping from the mole, she was changed instantly to a bird, and poured forth a song of grief as she flew. By the mercy of the gods Ceyx was likewise transformed. For seven days before and seven days after the winter solstice, Jove forbids the winds to blow. Then Halcyone broods over her nest; then the way is safe to seafarers. Æolus confines the winds that his grandchildren may have peace. =126. Aurora and Tithonus.=[165] Aurora seems frequently to have been inspired with the love of mortals. Her greatest favorite, and almost her latest, was Tithonus, son of Laomedon, king of Troy. She stole him away and prevailed on Jupiter to grant him immortality; but forgetting to have youth joined in the gift, after some time she began to discern, to her great mortification, that he was growing old. When his hair was white she left his society; but he still had the range of her palace, lived on ambrosial food, and was clad in celestial raiment. In time he lost the power of using his limbs; and then she shut him up in his chamber, whence his feeble voice might at times be heard. Finally, she turned him into a grasshopper. =127. Tennyson's Tithonus.= The following is, according to a fine poetic conception, the lament of the old man when but a white-haired shadow: The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapors weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after many a summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world, A white-haired shadow roaming like a dream The ever silent spaces of the East, Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn. Alas! for this gray shadow, once a man-- So glorious in his beauty and thy choice, Who madest him thy chosen, that he seem'd To his great heart none other than a God! I ask'd thee, "Give me immortality." Then didst thou grant mine asking with a smile, Like wealthy men who care not how they give; But thy strong Hours indignant work'd their wills, And beat me down and marr'd and wasted me, And tho' they could not end me, left me maim'd To dwell in presence of immortal youth, Immortal age beside immortal youth, And all I was, in ashes. Can thy love, Thy beauty, make amends, tho' even now, Close over us, the silver star, thy guide, Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill with tears To hear me? Let me go: take back thy gift: Why should a man desire in any way To vary from the kindly race of men, Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance Where all should pause, as is most meet for all? A soft air fans the cloud apart; there comes A glimpse of that dark world where I was born. Once more the old mysterious glimmer steals From thy pure brows, and from thy shoulders pure, And bosom beating with a heart renew'd. Thy cheek begins to redden thro' the gloom, Thy sweet eyes brighten slowly close to mine, Ere yet they blind the stars, and the wild team Which love thee, yearning for thy yoke, arise, And shake the darkness from their loosen'd manes, And beat the twilight into flakes of fire. Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful In silence, then before thine answer given Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek. Why wilt them ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true? "The gods themselves cannot recall their gifts." Ay me! ay me! with what another heart In days far-off, and with what other eyes I used to watch--if I be he that watched-- The lucid outline forming round thee; saw The dim curls kindle into sunny rings; Changed with thy mystic change, and felt my blood Glow with the glow that slowly crimson'd all Thy presence and thy portals, while I lay, Mouth, forehead, eyelids, growing dewy-warm With kisses balmier than half-opening buds Of April, and could hear the lips that kiss'd Whispering I knew not what of wild and sweet, Like that strange song I heard Apollo sing, While Ilion like a mist rose into towers. Yet hold me not forever in thine East: How can my nature longer mix with thine? Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled feet Upon thy glimmering thresholds, when the steam Floats up from those dim fields about the homes Of happy men that have the power to die, And grassy barrows of the happier dead. Release me, and restore me to the ground; Thou seëst all things, thou wilt see my grave: Thou wilt renew thy beauty morn by morn; I earth in earth forget these empty courts, And thee returning on thy silver wheels. =128. Memnon=, the son of Aurora and Tithonus, was king of the Æthiopians. He went with warriors to assist his kindred in the Trojan War, and was received by King Priam with honor. He fought bravely, slew Antilochus, the brave son of Nestor, and held the Greeks at bay until Achilles appeared. Before that hero he fell. Then Aurora, seeing her son's fate, directed his brothers, the Winds, to convey his body to the banks of the river Æsepus in Mysia. In the evening Aurora, accompanied by the Hours and the Pleiads, bewept her son. Night spread the heaven with clouds; all nature mourned for the offspring of the Dawn. The Æthiopians raised his tomb on the banks of the stream in the grove of the Nymphs, and Jupiter caused the sparks and cinders of his funeral pile to be turned into birds, which, dividing into two flocks, fought over the pile till they fell into the flame. Every year at the anniversary of his death they celebrated his obsequies in like manner. Aurora remained inconsolable. The dewdrops are her tears.[166] [Illustration: FIG. 101. THE DEATH OF MEMNON] The kinship of Memnon to the Dawn is certified even after his death. On the banks of the Nile are two colossal statues, one of which is called Memnon's; and it was said that when the first rays of morning fell upon this statue, a sound like the snapping of a harp-string issued therefrom.[167] So to the sacred Sun in Memnon's fane Spontaneous concords choired the matin strain; Touched by his orient beam responsive rings The living lyre and vibrates all its strings; Accordant aisles the tender tones prolong, And holy echoes swell the adoring song.[168] FOOTNOTES: [163] Ovid, Metam. 7, 394 _et seq._ [164] Ovid, Metam. 11, 583-748. [165] Homeric Hymn to Venus; Horace, Odes, 1, 22; 2, 16; Apollodorus, 3, 12, § 4. [166] Ovid, Metam. 13, 622, etc. Odyssey, 4, 188; 11, 522. Pindar, Pyth. 6, 30. [167] Pausanias, 1, 42, § 2. [168] Darwin, Botanic Garden. CHAPTER XII MYTHS OF THE LESSER DIVINITIES OF EARTH, ETC. =129. Pan, and the Personification of Nature.= It was a pleasing trait in the old paganism that it loved to trace in every operation of nature the agency of deity. The imagination of the Greeks peopled the regions of earth and sea with divinities, to whose agency it attributed the phenomena that our philosophy ascribes to the operation of natural law. So Pan, the god of woods and fields,[169] whose name seemed to signify _all_, came to be considered a symbol of the universe and a personification of Nature. "Universal Pan," says Milton in his description of the creation: Universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal Spring. Later, Pan came to be regarded as a representative of all the Greek gods and of paganism itself. Indeed, according to an early Christian tradition, when the heavenly host announced to the shepherds the birth of Christ, a deep groan, heard through the isles of Greece, told that great Pan was dead, that the dynasty of Olympus was dethroned, and the several deities sent wandering in cold and darkness. The lonely mountains o'er, And the resounding shore, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; From haunted spring and dale, Edged with poplar pale, The parting Genius is with sighing sent; With flower-inwoven tresses torn, The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.[170] Many a poet has lamented the change. For even if the head did profit for a time by the revolt against the divine prerogative of nature, it is more than possible that the heart lost in due proportion. His sorrow at this loss of imaginative sympathy among the moderns Wordsworth expresses in the sonnet, already cited, beginning "The world is too much with us." Schiller, also, by his poem, The Gods of Greece, has immortalized his sorrow for the decadence of the ancient mythology. [Illustration: FIG. 102. PAN BLOWING HIS PIPE, ECHO ANSWERING] Ah, the beauteous world while yet ye ruled it,-- Yet--by gladsome touches of the hand; Ah, the joyous hearts that still ye governed, Gods of Beauty, ye, of Fable-land! Then, ah, then, the mysteries resplendent Triumphed.--Other was it then, I ween, When thy shrines were odorous with garlands, Thou, of Amathus the queen. Then the gracious veil, of fancy woven, Fell in folds about the fact uncouth; Through the universe life flowed in fullness, What we feel not now was felt in sooth: Man ascribed nobility to Nature, Rendered love unto the earth he trod, Everywhere his eye, illuminated, Saw the footprints of a God. * * * * * Lovely world, where art thou? Turn, oh, turn thee, Fairest blossom-tide of Nature's spring! Only in the poet's realm of wonder Liv'st thou, still,--a fable vanishing. Reft of life the meadows lie deserted; Ne'er a godhead can my fancy see: Ah, if only of those living colors Lingered yet the ghost with me![171] * * * * * It was the poem from which these stanzas are taken that provoked the well-known reply of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, contained in The Dead Pan. Her argument may be gathered from the following stanzas: By your beauty which confesses Some chief Beauty conquering you, By our grand heroic guesses Through your falsehood at the True, We will weep _not_! earth shall roll Heir to each god's aureole, And Pan is dead. Earth outgrows the mythic fancies Sung beside her in her youth; And those debonair romances Sound but dull beside the truth. Ph[oe]bus' chariot course is run! Look up, poets, to the sun! Pan, Pan is dead. =130. Stedman's Pan in Wall Street.=[172] That Pan, however, is not yet dead but alive even in the practical atmosphere of our western world, the poem here appended, written by one of our recently deceased American poets, would indicate. Just where the Treasury's marble front Looks over Wall Street's mingled nations; Where Jews and Gentiles most are wont To throng for trade and last quotations; Where, hour by hour, the rates of gold Outrival, in the ears of people, The quarter chimes, serenely tolled From Trinity's undaunted steeple,-- Even there I heard a strange, wild strain Sound high above the modern clamor, Above the cries of greed and gain, The curbstone war, the auction's hammer; And swift, on Music's misty ways, It led, from all this strife for millions, To ancient, sweet-do-nothing days Among the kirtle-robed Sicilians. [Illustration: FIG. 103. THE MUSIC LESSON] And as it still'd the multitude, And yet more joyous rose, and shriller, I saw the minstrel where he stood At ease against a Doric pillar: One hand a droning organ play'd, The other held a Pan's pipe (fashioned Like those of old) to lips that made The reeds give out that strain impassioned. 'T was Pan himself had wandered here, A-strolling through the sordid city, And piping to the civic ear The prelude of some pastoral ditty! The demigod had cross'd the seas,-- From haunts of shepherd, nymph, and satyr, And Syracusan times,--to these Far shores and twenty centuries later. A ragged cap was on his head: But--hidden thus--there was no doubting That, all with crispy locks o'erspread, His gnarlèd horns were somewhere sprouting; His club-feet, cased in rusty shoes, Were cross'd, as on some frieze you see them. And trousers, patched of divers hues, Conceal'd his crooked shanks beneath them. [Illustration: FIG. 104. BACCHIC DANCE] He filled the quivering reeds with sound, And o'er his mouth their changes shifted, And with his goat's-eyes looked around Where'er the passing current drifted; And soon, as on Trinacrian hills The nymphs and herdsmen ran to hear him, Even now the tradesmen from their tills, With clerks and porters, crowded near him. The bulls and bears together drew From Jauncey Court and New Street Alley, As erst, if pastorals be true, Came beasts from every wooded valley; The random passers stay'd to list,-- A boxer Ægon, rough and merry,-- Broadway Daphnis, on his tryst With Naïs at the Brooklyn Ferry. [Illustration: FIG. 105. SILENUS] A one-eyed Cyclops halted long In tatter'd cloak of army pattern, And Galatea joined the throng,-- A blowsy, apple-vending slattern; While old Silenus stagger'd out From some new-fangled lunch-house handy And bade the piper, with a shout, To strike up "Yankee Doodle Dandy!" A newsboy and a peanut girl Like little Fauns began to caper: His hair was all in tangled curl, Her tawny legs were bare and taper. And still the gathering larger grew, And gave its pence and crowded nigher, While aye the shepherd-minstrel blew His pipe, and struck the gamut higher. O heart of Nature! beating still With throbs her vernal passion taught her,-- Even here, as on the vine-clad hill, Or by the Arethusan water! New forms may fold the speech, new lands Arise within these ocean-portals, But Music waves eternal wands,-- Enchantress of the souls of mortals! So thought I,--but among us trod A man in blue with legal baton; And scoff'd the vagrant demigod, And push'd him from the step I sat on. Doubting I mused upon the cry-- "Great Pan is dead!"--and all the people Went on their ways:--and clear and high The quarter sounded from the steeple. [Illustration: FIG. 106. SATYR] =131. Other Lesser Gods of Earth.= Of the company of the lesser gods of earth, besides Pan, were the Sileni, the Sylvans, the Fauns, and the Satyrs, all male; the Oreads and the Dryads or Hamadryads, female. To these may be added the Naiads, for, although they dwelt in the streams, their association with the deities of earth was intimate. Of the nymphs, the Oreads and the Naiads were immortal. The love of Pan for Syrinx has already been mentioned, and his musical contest with Apollo. Of Silenus we have seen something in the adventures of Bacchus. What kind of existence the Satyr enjoyed is conveyed in the following soliloquy: [Illustration: FIG. 107. SATYR SWINGING MAIDEN] The trunk of this tree, Dusky-leaved, shaggy-rooted, Is a pillow well suited To a hybrid like me, Goat-bearded, goat-footed; For the boughs of the glade Meet above me, and throw A cool, pleasant shade On the greenness below; Dusky and brown'd Close the leaves all around; And yet, all the while, Thro' the boughs I can see A star, with a smile, Looking at me.... [Illustration: FIG. 108. SATYR DRINKING] Why, all day long, I run about With a madcap throng, And laugh and shout. Silenus grips My ears, and strides On my shaggy hips, And up and down In an ivy crown Tipsily rides; And when in doze His eyelids close, Off he tumbles, and I Can his wine-skin steal, I drink--and feel The grass roll--sea high; Then with shouts and yells, Down mossy dells, I stagger after The wood-nymphs fleet, Who with mocking laughter And smiles retreat; And just as I clasp A yielding waist, With a cry embraced, --Gush! it melts from my grasp Into water cool, And--bubble! trouble! Seeing double! I stumble and gasp In some icy pool![173] =132. Echo and Narcissus.=[174] Echo was a beautiful Oread, fond of the woods and hills, a favorite of Diana, whom she attended in the chase. But by her chatter she came under the displeasure of Juno, who condemned her to the loss of voice save for purposes of reply. [Illustration: FIG. 109. NARCISSUS] Subsequently having fallen in love with Narcissus, the beautiful son of the river-god Cephissus, Echo found it impossible to express her regard for him in any way but by mimicking what he said; and what he said, unfortunately, did not always convey her sentiments. When, however, he once called across the hills to her, "Let us join one another," the maid, answering with all her heart, hastened to the spot, ready to throw her arms about his neck. He started back, exclaiming, "Hands off! I would rather die than thou shouldst have me!" "Have me," said she; but in vain. From that time forth she lived in caves and among mountain cliffs, and faded away till there was nothing left of her but her voice. But through his future fortunes she was constant to her cruel lover. This Narcissus was the embodiment of self-conceit. He shunned the rest of the nymphs as he had shunned Echo. One maiden, however, uttered a prayer that he might some time or other feel what it was to love and meet no return of affection. The avenging goddess heard. Narcissus, stooping over a river brink, fell in love with his own image in the water. He talked to it, tried to embrace it, languished for it, and pined until he died. Indeed, even after death, it is said that when his shade passed the Stygian river it leaned over the boat to catch a look of itself in the waters. The nymphs mourned for Narcissus, especially the water-nymphs; and when they smote their breasts, Echo smote hers also. They prepared a funeral pile and would have burned the body, but it was nowhere to be found. In its place had sprung up a flower, purple within and surrounded with white leaves, which bears the name and preserves the memory of the son of Cephissus. =133. Echo, Pan, Lyde, and the Satyr.= Another interesting episode in the life of Echo is given by Moschus:[175] Pan loved his neighbor Echo; Echo loved A gamesome Satyr; he, by her unmoved, Loved only Lyde; thus through Echo, Pan, Lyde, and Satyr, Love his circle ran. Thus all, while their true lovers' hearts they grieved, Were scorned in turn, and what they gave received. O all Love's scorners, learn this lesson true: Be kind to love, that he be kind to you. =134. The Naiads.= These nymphs guarded streams and fountains of fresh water and, like the Naiad who speaks in the following verses, kept them sacred for Diana or some other divinity. Dian white-arm'd has given me this cool shrine Deep in the bosom of a wood of pine: The silver-sparkling showers That hive me in, the flowers That prink my fountain's brim, are hers and mine; And when the days are mild and fair, And grass is springing, buds are blowing, Sweet it is, 'mid waters flowing, Here to sit and know no care, 'Mid the waters flowing, flowing, flowing, Combing my yellow, yellow hair. The ounce and panther down the mountain side Creep thro' dark greenness in the eventide; And at the fountain's brink Casting great shades, they drink, Gazing upon me, tame and sapphire-eyed; For, awed by my pale face, whose light Gleameth thro' sedge and lilies yellow They, lapping at my fountain mellow, Harm not the lamb that in affright Throws in the pool so mellow, mellow, mellow, Its shadow small and dusky-white. Oft do the fauns and satyrs, flusht with play, Come to my coolness in the hot noonday. Nay, once indeed, I vow By Dian's truthful brow, The great god Pan himself did pass this way, And, all in festal oak-leaves clad, His limbs among these lilies throwing, Watch'd the silver waters flowing, Listen'd to their music glad, Saw and heard them flowing, flowing, flowing, And ah! his face was worn and sad! Mild joys like silvery waters fall; But it is sweetest, sweetest far of all, In the calm summer night, When the tree-tops look white, To be exhaled in dew at Dian's call, Among my sister-clouds to move Over the darkness, earth bedimming, Milky-robed thro' heaven swimming, Floating round the stars above, Swimming proudly, swimming proudly, swimming, And waiting on the Moon I love. So tenderly I keep this cool, green shrine, Deep in the bosom of a wood of pine; Faithful thro' shade and sun, That service due and done May haply earn for me a place divine Among the white-robed deities That thread thro' starry paths, attending My sweet Lady, calmly wending Thro' the silence of the skies, Changing in hues of beauty never ending, Drinking the light of Dian's eyes.[176] =135. The Dryads=, or =Hamadryads=, assumed at times the forms of peasant girls, shepherdesses, or followers of the hunt. But they were believed to perish with certain trees which had been their abode and with which they had come into existence. Wantonly to destroy a tree was therefore an impious act, sometimes severely punished, as in the cases of Erysichthon and Dryope. =136. Erysichthon=,[177] a despiser of the gods, presumed to violate with the ax a grove sacred to Ceres. A venerable oak, whereon votive tablets had often been hung inscribed with the gratitude of mortals to the nymph of the tree,--an oak round which the Dryads hand in hand had often danced,--he ordered his servants to fell. When he saw them hesitate, he snatched an ax from one, and boasting that he cared not whether it were a tree beloved of the goddess or not, addressed himself to the task. The oak seemed to shudder and utter a groan. When the first blow fell upon the trunk, blood flowed from the wound. Warned by a bystander to desist, Erysichthon slew him; warned by a voice from the nymph of the tree, he redoubled his blows and brought down the oak. The Dryads invoked punishment upon Erysichthon. The goddess Ceres, whom they had supplicated, nodded her assent. She dispatched an Oread to ice-clad Scythia, where Cold abides, and Fear and Shuddering and Famine. At Mount Caucasus, the Oread stayed the dragons of Ceres that drew her chariot; for afar off she beheld Famine, forespent with hunger, pulling up with teeth and claws the scanty herbage from a stony field. To her the nymph delivered the commands of Ceres, then returned in haste to Thessaly, for she herself began to be an hungered. The orders of Ceres were executed by Famine, who, speeding through the air, entered the dwelling of Erysichthon and, as he slept, enfolded him with her wings and breathed herself into him. In his dreams the caitiff craved food; and when he awoke, his hunger raged. The more he ate, the more he craved, till, in default of money, he sold his daughter into slavery for edibles. Neptune, however, rescued the girl by changing her into a fisherman; and in that form she assured the slave-owner that she had seen no woman or other person, except herself, thereabouts. Then, resuming her own appearance, she was again and again sold by her father; while by Neptune's favor she became on each occasion a different animal, and so regained her home. Finally, increasing demands of hunger compelled the father to devour his own limbs; and in due time he finished himself off. =137. Dryope=, the wife of Andræmon, purposing with her sister Iole to gather flowers for the altars of the nymphs, plucked the purple blossoms of a lotus plant that grew near the water, and offered them to her child. Iole, about to do the same thing, perceived that the stem of the plant was bleeding. Indeed, the plant was none other than a nymph, Lotis, who, escaping from a base pursuer, had been thus transformed. Dryope would have hastened from the spot, but the displeasure of the nymph had fallen upon her. While protesting her innocence, she began to put forth branches and leaves. Praying her husband to see that no violence was done to her, to remind their child that every flower or bush might be a goddess in disguise, to bring him often to be nursed under her branches, and to teach him to say "My mother lies hid under this bark,"--the luckless woman assumed the shape of a lotus. =138. Rh[oe]cus.=[178] The Hamadryads could appreciate services as well as punish injuries. Hear now this fairy legend of old Greece, As full of freedom, youth, and beauty still, As the immortal freshness of that grace Carved for all ages on some Attic frieze.[179] Rh[oe]cus, happening to see an oak just ready to fall, propped it up. The nymph, who had been on the point of perishing with the tree, expressed her gratitude to him and bade him ask what reward he would. Rh[oe]cus boldly asked her love, and the nymph yielded to his desire. At the same time charging him to be mindful and constant, she promised to expect him an hour before sunset and, meanwhile, to communicate with him by means of her messenger,--a bee: Now, in those days of simpleness and faith, Men did not think that happy things were dreams Because they overstepped the narrow bourn Of likelihood, but reverently deemed Nothing too wondrous or too beautiful To be the guerdon of a daring heart. So Rh[oe]cus made no doubt that he was blest, And all along unto the city's gate Earth seemed to spring beneath him as he walked, The clear, broad sky looked bluer than its wont, And he could scarce believe he had not wings, Such sunshine seemed to glitter through his veins Instead of blood, so light he felt and strange. But the day was past its noon. Joining some comrades over the dice, Rh[oe]cus forgot all else. A bee buzzed about his ear. Impatiently he brushed it aside: Then through the window flew the wounded bee, And Rh[oe]cus, tracking him with angry eyes, Saw a sharp mountain peak of Thessaly Against the red disk of the setting sun,-- And instantly the blood sank from his heart.... ... Quite spent and out of breath he reached the tree, And, listening fearfully, he heard once more The low voice murmur, "Rh[oe]cus!" close at hand: Whereat he looked around him, but could see Naught but the deepening glooms beneath the oak. Then sighed the voice, "O Rh[oe]cus! nevermore Shalt thou behold me or by day or night, Me, who would fain have blessed thee with a love More ripe and bounteous than ever yet Filled up with nectar any mortal heart: But thou didst scorn my humble messenger And sent'st him back to me with bruisèd wings. We spirits only show to gentle eyes, We ever ask an undivided love, And he who scorns the least of Nature's works Is thenceforth exiled and shut out from all. Farewell! for thou canst never see me more." Then Rh[oe]cus beat his breast, and groaned aloud, And cried, "Be pitiful! forgive me yet This once, and I shall never need it more!" "Alas!" the voice returned, "'tis thou art blind, Not I unmerciful; I can forgive, But have no skill to heal thy spirit's eyes; Only the soul hath power o'er itself." With that again there murmured, "Nevermore!" And Rh[oe]cus after heard no other sound, Except the rattling of the oak's crisp leaves, Like the long surf upon a distant shore, Raking the sea-worn pebbles up and down. The night had gathered round him: o'er the plain The city sparkled with its thousand lights, And sounds of revel fell upon his ear Harshly and like a curse; above, the sky, With all its bright sublimity of stars, Deepened, and on his forehead smote the breeze: Beauty was all around him and delight, But from that eve he was alone on earth. According to the older tradition, the nymph deprived Rh[oe]cus of his physical sight; but the superior insight of Lowell's interpretation is evident. =139. Pomona and Vertumnus.=[180] Pomona was a Hamadryad of Roman mythology, guardian especially of the apple orchards, but presiding also over other fruits. "Bear me, Pomona," sings one of our poets,-- Bear me, Pomona, to thy citron groves, To where the lemon and the piercing lime, With the deep orange, glowing through the green, Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclined Beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes, Fanned by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit.[181] [Illustration: FIG. 110. A RUSTIC] This nymph had scorned the offers of love made her by Pan, Sylvanus, and innumerable Fauns and Satyrs. Vertumnus, too, she had time and again refused. But he, the deity of gardens and of the changing seasons, unwearied, wooed her in as many guises as his seasons themselves could assume. Now as a reaper, now as haymaker, now as plowman, now as vinedresser, now as apple-picker, now as fisherman, now as soldier,--all to no avail. Finally, as an old woman, he came to her, admired her fruit, admired especially the luxuriance of her grapes, descanted on the dependence of the luxuriant vine, close by, upon the elm to which it was clinging; advised Pomona, likewise, to choose some youth--say, for instance, the young Vertumnus--about whom to twine _her_ arms. Then he told how the worthy Iphis, spurned by Anaxarete, had hanged himself to her gatepost; and how the gods had turned the hard-hearted virgin to stone even as she gazed on her lover's funeral. "Consider these things, dearest child," said the seeming old woman, "lay aside thy scorn and thy delays, and accept a lover. So may neither the vernal frosts blight thy young fruits, nor furious winds scatter thy blossoms!" When Vertumnus had thus spoken, he dropped his disguise and stood before Pomona in his proper person,--a comely youth. Such wooing, of course, could not but win its just reward. =140. The Cranes of Ibycus=.[182] The Furies, called also Diræ (the terrible ones), Erinyes (the persecutors, or the angered ones), and finally, by way of euphemism, Eumenides (the well-meaning), though they were spirits of the underworld, visited earth to punish filial disobedience, irreverence to old age, perjury, murder, treachery to guests, even unkindness toward beggars. They avenged the ghosts of such as, dying violent deaths, possessed on earth no representatives either by law or by kindred to avenge them. Therefore, as we shall see, they persecuted Orestes, who had slain his mother. Therefore, like the accusing voice of conscience, they marshaled to punishment the murderers of Ibycus. [Illustration: FIG. 111. A RUSTIC] This poet, beloved of Apollo, was, while journeying to the musical contest of the Isthmus at Corinth, attacked by two robbers in the Corinthian grove of Neptune. Overcome by them, he commended his cause as he fell to a flock of cranes that happened to be screaming hoarsely overhead. But when his body was found, all Greece, then gathered at the festival, demanded vengeance on the murderer. Soon afterward, the vast assemblage in the amphitheater sat listening to a play in which the Chorus personated the Furies. The Choristers, clad in black, bore in their fleshless hands torches blazing with a pitchy flame. Advancing with measured step, they formed ranks in the orchestra. Their cheeks were bloodless, and in place of hair writhing serpents curled around their brows. Forming a circle, these awful beings sang their hymn. High it swelled, overpowering the sound of the instruments: "Happy the man whose heart is pure from guilt and crime! Him we avengers touch not; he treads the path of life secure from us. But woe! woe! to him who has done the deed of secret murder. We, the fearful brood of Night, fasten ourselves upon him, soul and flesh. Thinks he by flight to escape us? Fly we still faster in pursuit, twine our snakes around his feet, and bring him to the ground. Unwearied we pursue; no pity checks our course; still on, still on to the end of life, we give no peace, no rest." Stillness like the stillness of death sat over the assembly. Suddenly a cry burst from one of the uppermost benches,--"Lo, comrade, the avengers of Ibycus!" A flock of cranes crossed the sky. "The murderer has informed against himself," shouted the assemblage. The inference was correct. The criminals, straightway seized, confessed the crime and suffered the penalty. FOOTNOTES: [169] His name is not derived from the Greek _p[=a]n_, all, but from the root _p[)a]_, to feed, to pasture (i.e. the flocks and herds). [170] Milton, Hymn on the Nativity. [171] Translated by C. M. Gayley. [172] By Edmund Clarence Stedman. [173] From The Satyr, by Robert Buchanan. [174] Ovid, Metam. 3, 339-510. [175] Idyl VI (Lang's translation). For Moschus, see Commentary, § 298. [176] From The Naiad, by Robert Buchanan. [177] Ovid, Metam. 8, 738-884. [178] See note (Scholium) on the Argonautics of Apollonius, B 477. Keil's edition, p. 415, l. 32. [179] J. R. Lowell, Rh[oe]cus. The student should read the whole poem. [180] Ovid, Metam. 14, 623-771. [181] Thomson, Seasons. [182] Cf. Cicero, Tusculan Disputations, 4. 33, 71; and Statius, Silvæ, 5. 3, 152. CHAPTER XIII MYTHS OF LESSER DIVINITIES OF THE WATERS =141. Galatea and Polyphemus.= The water-gods may be roughly classed as dwellers in the sea and dwellers in the streams. Of the former, daughters of Nereus and Doris, none was fairer than Galatea, sister of Amphitrite and Thetis. She loved Acis, the son of Faunus by a Naiad, and was loved in return; but her happiness was disturbed and finally ruined by the persistent and jealous attentions of the Cyclops Polyphemus. For the first time in his life the Cyclops began to care for his appearance; he harrowed his coarse locks with a currycomb, mowed his beard with a sickle, and, looking into the sea when it was calm, soliloquized, "Beautiful seems my beard, beautiful my one eye,--as I count beauty,--and the sea reflects the gleam of my teeth whiter than the Parian stone."[183] ... He loved, not with apples, not roses, nor locks of hair, but with fatal frenzy; and all things else he held but trifles by the way. Many a time from the green pastures would his ewes stray back, self-shepherded, to the fold. But he was singing of Galatea; and pining in his place, he sat by the seaweed of the beach from the dawn of day with the direst hurt beneath his breast of mighty Cypris' sending,--the wound of her arrow in his heart! Yet this remedy he found, and sitting on the crest of the tall cliff and looking to the deep, 'twas thus he would sing: "Oh, milk-white Galatea, why cast off him that loves thee? More white than is pressed milk to look upon, more delicate than the lamb art thou, than the young calf wantoner, more sleek than the unripened grape! Here dost thou resort, even so, when sweet sleep possesses me, and home straightway dost thou depart when sweet sleep lets me go, fleeing me like an ewe that has seen the gray wolf. I fell in love with thee, maiden, I, on the day when first thou camest, with my mother, and didst wish to pluck the hyacinths from the hill, and I was thy guide on the way. But to leave loving thee when once I had seen thee, neither afterward, nor now at all, have I the strength, even from that hour. But to thee all this is as nothing, by Zeus, nay, nothing at all! "I know, thou gracious maiden, why it is that thou dost shun me. It is all for the shaggy brow that spans my forehead, from this to the other ear, one long, unbroken eyebrow. And but one eye is on my forehead, and broad is the nose that overhangs my lip. Yet I (even such as thou seest me) feed a thousand cattle, and from these I draw and drink the best milk in the world. And cheese I never lack, in summer time or autumn, nay, nor in the dead of winter, but my baskets are always overladen. [Illustration: FIG. 112. GALATEA AND POLYPHEMUS] "Also I am skilled in piping, as none other of the Cyclopes here, and of thee, my love, my sweet apple, and of myself, too, I sing, many a time, deep in the night. And for thee I tend eleven fawns, all crescent browed, and four young whelps of the bear. Nay, come thou to me and thou shalt lack nothing that now thou hast.... "But if thou dost refuse because my body seems shaggy and rough, well, I have faggots of oak-wood, and beneath the ashes is fire unwearied, and I would endure to let thee burn my very soul, and this my one eye, the dearest thing that is mine. "Ah me, that my mother bore me not a finny thing, so would I have gone down to thee, and kissed thy hand, if thy lips thou would not suffer me to kiss! And I would have brought thee either white lilies or the soft poppy with its scarlet petals. Nay, these are summer's flowers, and those are flowers of winter, so I could not have brought thee them all at one time. "Now, verily, maiden, now and here will I learn to swim, if perchance some stranger come hither, sailing with his ship, that I may see why it is so dear to thee to have thy dwelling in the deep. Come forth, Galatea, and forget as thou comest, even as I that sit here have forgotten, the homeward way!... "Oh, Cyclops, Cyclops, whither are thy wits wandering? Ah, that thou wouldst go and weave thy wickerwork and gather broken boughs to carry to thy lambs: in faith, if thou didst this, far wiser wouldst thou be! "Milk the ewe that thou hast; why pursue the thing that shuns thee? Thou wilt find, perchance, another, and a fairer, Galatea. Many be the girls that bid me stay with them, and softly they all laugh, if perchance I answer them. On land it is plain that I, too, seem to be somebody!"[184] Having, one day, in such wise sung, Polyphemus wandered, beside himself for passion, into the woods. On a sudden he came in sight of Galatea and Acis in the hollow of a rock, where they had hearkened to the strains of the Cyclops. The monster, infuriate, crying that this should be the last of their love-meetings, overwhelmed his rival with a tremendous rock. Purple blood spirted from under the stone, by degrees grew paler, and finally became the stream that still bears the name of the unfortunate youth. But Galatea remained inconsolable.[185] [Illustration: FIG. 113. A SEA-GOD] =142. Glaucus and Scylla.=[186] Another deity of the sea was Glaucus, the son of that Sisyphus who was punished in Hades for his treachery to the gods. Glaucus had been a comely young fisherman; but having noticed that a certain herb revived fishes after they were brought to land, he ate of it and suffered metamorphosis into something new and strange, half man, half fish, and after the fashion of a sea-god. Of his experience during this "sea change" the following is an account: I plunged for life or death. To interknit One's senses with so dense a breathing stuff Might seem a work of pain; so not enough Can I admire how crystal-smooth it felt, And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dwelt Whole days and days in sheer astonishment; Forgetful utterly of self-intent, Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow. Then like a new-fledged bird that first doth show His spreaded feathers to the morrow chill, I tried in fear the pinions of my will. 'Twas freedom! and at once I visited The ceaseless wonders of this ocean bed.[187] He became guardian of fishes and divers and of those who go down to the sea in ships. Later, being infatuated of the fair virgin Scylla (daughter of the sea-god Phorcys and granddaughter of Pontus), he paid his court to her, but the maiden rejected him. Whereupon, in desperation, Glaucus sought the aid of Circe, an enchantress. She, because she coveted for herself the handsome sea-green god, transformed her rival into a monster hideously fashioned of serpents and barking dogs.[188] In this shape Scylla thereafter infested the shore of Sicily and worked evil to mariners,[189] till finally she was petrified as a reef, none the less perilous to all seafarers. A modern version of the fate of Glaucus and Scylla is given by Keats in the Endymion. Glaucus consents to Circe's blandishments for a season, but becoming disgusted with her treachery and cruelty, he endeavors to escape from her. The attempt proving unsuccessful, he is brought back and sentenced to pass a thousand years in decrepitude and pain. Consequently, returning to the sea, he there discovers the body of Scylla, whom the goddess has not transformed, but drowned, and learns that if he passes his thousand years in collecting the bodies of drowned lovers, a youth beloved of the gods will, in time, appear and help him. This prophecy is fulfilled by Endymion, who aids in restoring Glaucus to youth, and Scylla and the drowned lovers to life. =143. Nisus and Scylla.=[190] The daughter of Phorcys is frequently confounded with another Scylla, daughter of King Nisus of Megara. Scylla of Megara betrayed her father to his enemy, Minos II of Crete, with whom, although the kings were at war, she had fallen violently in love. It seems that Nisus had on his head a purple lock of hair, upon which depended his fortune and his life. This lock his daughter clipped and conveyed to Minos. But recoiling from the treacherous gift, that king, after he had conquered Megara, bound Scylla to the rudder of his ship and so dragged her through the waves toward Crete. The girl was ultimately transformed into the monster of the barking dogs, or, according to another authority, into a bird continually the prey of the sea eagle, whose form her father Nisus had assumed. =144. Leucothea.=[191] Another sea change was that of Ino, the daughter of Cadmus and wife of Athamas, who, flying from her frantic husband, sprang, with her child Melicertes in her arms, from a cliff into the sea. The gods, out of compassion, made her a goddess of the sea under the name of Leucothea, and her son a god under that of Palæmon. Both were held powerful to save from shipwreck and were invoked by sailors. Palæmon was usually represented as riding on a dolphin. In his honor the Isthmian games were celebrated. By the Romans he was called Portumnus, and had jurisdiction of ports and shores. =145. Proteus and Aristæus.=[192] Though Aristæus, the lover of Eurydice, was son of Apollo and guardian himself of herds and flocks, protector of vine and olive, and keeper of bees, still he was son of Cyrene, a water-nymph, and his most interesting adventure brought him into contact with another deity of the sea. His bees having perished, Aristæus resorted for aid to his mother. She, surrounded by her maidens in the crystalline abode under her river, overheard his complaints and ordered that he should be brought into her presence. The stream at her command opened itself and let him enter, while it stood heaped like a mountain on either side. Cyrene and her nymphs, having poured out libations to Neptune, gave the youth to eat and listened to his complaint, then informed him that an aged prophet named Proteus, who dwelt in the sea and pastured the sea calves of Neptune, could explain the cause of the mortality among the bees and how to remedy it; but that the wizard would have to be chained and compelled to answer, and that even when chained, he would try to escape by assuming a series of dreadful forms. "Still, thou hast but to keep him fast bound," concluded Cyrene, "and at last, when he finds his arts of no avail, he will obey thy behest." The nymph then sprinkled her son with nectar, whereupon an unusual vigor filled his frame and courage his heart. Cyrene led her son to the prophet's cave, which was in the island of Pharos, or of Carpathos,[193] and concealed him. At noon issued Proteus from the water, followed by his herd of sea calves, which spread themselves along the shore. He, too, stretched himself on the floor of the cave and went to sleep. Aristæus immediately clapped fetters on him and shouted at the top of his voice. Proteus, finding himself captured, resorted to his craft, becoming first a fire, then a flood, then a horrible wild beast, in rapid succession; nor did he succumb till all schemes had failed to set him free. Then he resumed his old form and, in response to the questioning of Aristæus, said: "Thou receivest the merited reward of thy deed, by which Eurydice met her death. To avenge her, the nymphs have sent this destruction on thy bees. Their anger thou must appease. Four bulls shalt thou select, of perfect form and size, and four cows of equal beauty; and four altars shalt thou build to the nymphs, and shalt sacrifice the animals, leaving their carcasses in the leafy grove. To Orpheus and Eurydice thou shalt pay such funeral honors as may allay their resentment. Returning after nine days, examine the bodies of the cattle slain and see what has befallen." Aristæus faithfully obeyed these directions. Returning to the grove on the ninth day he found that a swarm of bees had taken possession of one of the carcasses and were pursuing their labors there as in a hive.[194] =146. Acheloüs and Hercules.=[195] A similar contest took place between Hercules and the river-god Acheloüs. The cause of the strife was Dejanira of Calydon, whom both heroes loved. Hercules boasted his divine descent. Acheloüs, not content with advancing his claim as lord of the mightiest and most ancient river of Greece, insinuated suspicions with regard to the value of Hercules' pretensions. Then began a mighty struggle. Finding he was no match for Hercules in the wrestler's art, Acheloüs glided away in the form of a serpent. Hercules, remarking that it was the labor of his infancy to strangle snakes,[196] clasped the neck of Acheloüs and choked him. Then Acheloüs assumed the seeming of a bull. Whereupon Hercules, seizing him by the horns, dragged his head to the ground, overthrew him, and rent one horn away. This trophy the Naiads consecrated and filled with flowers for the goddess of Plenty, who, adopting it as her symbol, named it Cornucopia. [Illustration: FIG. 114. NEREÏDS AND SEA MONSTERS] =147. Milton's Sabrina Fair.= No writer in modern times has made more graceful poetic use of the divinities of the streams than has Milton. The following song, chanted by a Spirit in invocation of "the gentle nymph" (of the poet's invention) "that with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream," is but one refrain of many caught by the poet from the far-echoing chorus of classical verse: Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair; Listen for dear honor's sake, Goddess of the silver lake, Listen and save. Listen and appear to us In name of great Oceanus. By th' earth-shaking Neptune's mace, And Tethys' grave, majestic pace, By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, And the Carpathian wizard's hook, By scaly Triton's winding shell, And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell, By Leucothea's lovely hands, And her son that rules the strands, By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet, And the songs of Sirens sweet, By dead Parthenope's[1] dear tomb And fair Ligea's[197] golden comb, Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, Sleeking her soft, alluring locks, By all the nymphs that nightly dance Upon thy streams with wily glance; Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head From thy coral-paven bed, And bridle in thy headlong wave, Till thou our summons answered have. Listen and save.[198] FOOTNOTES: [183] Theocritus, Idyl VI. See Andrew Lang's translation. [184] Theocritus, Idyl XI (Lang's translation). [185] Ovid, Metam. 13, 750-867. [186] Ovid, Metam. 13, 898; 14, 74; Tibullus, 3, 4-89. [187] From Keats' Endymion. [188] §§ 50, 52, and Commentary. [189] See §§ 239, 250, Adventures of Ulysses and Æneas. [190] Apollodorus, 3, 15, § 8. [191] Ovid, Metam. 4, 432-542. [192] Cf. Odyssey, 4, 410; Ovid, Fasti, 1, 369; Virgil, Georgics, 4, 317. [193] Cf. § 147, Milton's Carpathian Wizard. [194] See Commentary. [195] Ovid, Metam. 9, 1-100. [196] § 156. [197] See Commentary. [198] Milton, Comus, 859-889. CHAPTER XIV MYTHS OF THE OLDER HEROES: THE HOUSE OF DANAÜS, AND ITS CONNECTIONS =148. The Older and the Younger Heroes.= We have already narrated the adventures of certain demigods and heroes, such as Prometheus, Deucalion, Cadmus, Amphion, Orpheus. Others of importance were Perseus, Hercules, Minos, [OE]dipus, Theseus, Jason, Meleager, Peleus, Pelops, Castor and Pollux. These and their contemporaries may be called the _Older Heroes_. They are renowned either for individual exploits or for the part played by them in one or more of three great expeditions,--the War against Laomedon of Troy, the Voyage for the Golden Fleece, and the Hunt of the Calydonian Boar. The _Younger Heroes_ were of a later generation, which was concerned in four important enterprises,--the War of the Seven against Thebes, the Trojan War, the Wanderings of Ulysses, and the Adventures of Æneas. The exploits of the Older Heroes may be arranged in respect of their probable sequence in time, and of their grouping according to families of heroes. If we observe the principle of genealogy, one race, that of Inachus of Argos, attracts our notice in the heroes descended from Pelasgus,[199] Belus, and Agenor. The family of Belus gives us the famous House of Danaüs, the family of Agenor the Houses of Minos and Labdacus. Another race, that of Deucalion, gives us the heroes of the Hellenic branch, most notably those descended from Æolus. With these families most of the Older Heroes are, by blood or by adventure, to some extent connected. Bearing this fact in mind and at the same time observing the chronological sequence of adventures, we obtain an arrangement of myths as illustrating the races, families, or houses--(1) of Danaüs of Argos, (2) of Æolus of Thessaly, (3) of Ætolus, (4) of Minos of Crete, (5) of Cecrops and of Erichthonius of Attica, (6) of Labdacus of Thebes.[200] =149. The Genealogy of Danaüs.= As the Hellenes, in the north, traced their descent from Deucalion and Pyrrha of Thessaly, so the Pelasgic races of the south from the river-god Inachus, son of Oceanus. The son of Inachus, Phoroneus, lived in the Peloponnesus and founded the town of Argos. This Phoroneus conferred upon the Argives the benefits attributed by other Greeks to Prometheus. He was succeeded by his son Pelasgus, from whom a division of the Greek people derive their name. With the love of Jupiter for the sister of Phoroneus, the fair Io, we are already acquainted. Her son was Epaphus, king of Egypt, from whom were descended (1) Agenor of Ph[oe]nicia, father of Europa and Cadmus, and (2) Belus of Egypt, father of Ægyptus and Danaüs. To the family of Agenor we shall return in the history of Minos, son of Europa, and of [OE]dipus, descendant of Cadmus. [Illustration: FIG. 115. THE DANAÏDS] =150. The Danaïds.=[201] Ægyptus and his fifty sons drove Danaüs and his fifty daughters back to Argos, the ancestral home of the race. Finally, a reconciliation was arranged by means of a fiftyfold marriage between the sons of Ægyptus and the Danaïds. But in accordance with a treacherous command of Danaüs, all his daughters save Hypermnestra slew their husbands on the wedding night. For this crime the forty-nine Danaïds were condemned to spend eternity in Tartarus, trying to fill with water a vessel full of holes. From Hypermnestra and her husband, Lynceus, was sprung the royal house of Argos. Their son was Abas, their grandson, Acrisius,--of whom the following narrative is told. [Illustration: FIG. 116. DANAË AND PERSEUS AND THE CHEST] =151. The Doom of King Acrisius.=[202] The daughter of Acrisius was Danaë, of surpassing loveliness. In consequence of an oracle which had prophesied that the son of Danaë would be the means of his grandfather's death, the hapless girl was shut in an underground chamber, that no man might love or wed her. But Jupiter, distilling himself into a shower of gold, flooded the girl's prison, wooed, and won her. Their son was Perseus. King Acrisius, in dismay, ordered mother and child to be boxed up in a chest and set adrift on the sea. The two unfortunates were, however, rescued at Seriphus by a fisherman, who conveyed the mother and infant to Polydectes, king of the country, by whom they were treated at first with kindness, but afterwards with cruelty. =152. Perseus and Medusa.=[203] When Perseus was grown up, Polydectes sent him to attempt the conquest of the Gorgon Medusa,[204] a terrible monster who had laid waste the country. She had once been a maiden whose hair was her chief glory, but as she dared to vie in beauty with Minerva, the goddess deprived her of her charms and changed her ringlets into hissing serpents. She became a monster of so frightful an aspect that no living thing could behold her without being turned into stone. All around the cavern where she dwelt might be seen the stony figures of men and animals that had chanced to catch a glimpse of her and had been petrified at the sight. Perseus, favored by Minerva and Mercury, set out against the Gorgon, and approached first the cave of the three Grææ: [Illustration: FIG. 117. MEDUSA] There sat the crones that had the single eye, Clad in blue sweeping cloak and snow-white gown; While o'er their backs their straight white hair hung down In long thin locks; dreadful their faces were, Carved all about with wrinkles of despair; And as they sat they crooned a dreary song, Complaining that their lives should last so long, In that sad place that no one came anear, In that wan place desert of hope and fear; And singing, _still they rocked_ their bodies bent, And ever each to each the eye they sent.[205] [Illustration: FIG. 118. MEDUSA] Snatching the eye, Perseus compelled the Grææ, as the price of its restoration, to tell him how he might obtain the helmet of Hades that renders its wearer invisible, and the winged shoes and pouch that were necessary. With this outfit, to which Minerva added her shield and Mercury his knife, Perseus sped to the hall of the Gorgons. In silence sat two of the sisters,-- But a third woman paced about the hall, And ever turned her head from wall to wall And moaned aloud, and shrieked in her despair; Because the golden tresses of her hair Were moved by writhing snakes from side to side, That in their writhing oftentimes would glide On to her breast, or shuddering shoulders white; Or, falling down, the hideous things would light Upon her feet, and crawling thence would twine Their slimy folds about her ankles fine.[206] [Illustration: FIG. 119. PERSEUS From the sculpture by Cellini] This was Medusa. Her, while she was praying the gods to end her misery, or, as some say, while she was sleeping, Perseus approached, and, guided by her image reflected in the bright shield which he bore, cut off her head, and so ended her miserable existence. Thus are described the horror and the grace of her features in death: It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky, Upon the cloudy mountain peak supine; Below, far lands are seen tremblingly; Its horror and its beauty are divine. Upon its lips and eyelids seems to lie Loveliness like a shadow, from which shine, Fiery and lurid, struggling underneath, The agonies of anguish and of death. Yet it is less the horror than the grace Which turns the gazer's spirit into stone; Whereon the lineaments of that dead face Are graven, till the characters be grown Into itself, and thought no more can trace; 'Tis the melodious hue of beauty thrown Athwart the darkness and the glare of pain, Which humanize and harmonize the strain.[207]... =153. Perseus and Atlas.= From the body of Medusa sprang the winged horse Pegasus, of whose rider, Bellerophon, we shall presently be informed. [Illustration: FIG. 120. PERSEUS WITH HEAD OF MEDUSA] After the slaughter of Medusa, Perseus, bearing with him the head of the Gorgon, flew far and wide, over land and sea. As night came on, he reached the western limit of the earth, and would gladly have rested till morning. Here was the realm of Atlas, whose bulk surpassed that of all other men. He was rich in flocks and herds, but his chief pride was his garden of the Hesperides, whose fruit was of gold, hanging from golden branches, half hid with golden leaves. Perseus said to him, "I come as a guest. If thou holdest in honor illustrious descent, I claim Jupiter for my father; if mighty deeds, I plead the conquest of the Gorgon. I seek rest and food." But Atlas, remembering an ancient prophecy that had warned him against a son of Jove who should one day rob him of his golden apples, attempted to thrust the youth out. Whereupon Perseus, finding the giant too strong for him, held up the Gorgon's head. Atlas, with all his bulk, was changed into stone. His beard and hair became forests, his arms and shoulders cliffs, his head a summit, and his bones rocks. Each part increased in mass till the giant became the mountain upon whose shoulders rests heaven with all its stars. =154. Perseus and Andromeda.= On his way back to Seriphus, the Gorgon-slayer arrived at the country of the Æthiopians, over whom Cepheus was king. His wife was Cassiopea-- That starred Æthiope queen that strove To set her beauty's praise above The sea-nymphs, and their powers offended.[208] These nymphs had consequently sent a sea monster to ravage the coast. To appease the deities, Cepheus was directed by the oracle to devote his daughter Andromeda to the ravening maw of the prodigy. As Perseus looked down from his aërial height, he beheld the virgin chained to a rock. Drawing nearer he pitied, then comforted her, and sought the reason of her disgrace. At first from modesty she was silent; but when he repeated his questions, for fear she might be thought guilty of some offense which she dared not tell, she disclosed her name and that of her country, and her mother's pride of beauty. Before she had done speaking, a sound was heard upon the water, and the monster appeared. The virgin shrieked; the father and mother, who had now arrived, poured forth lamentations and threw their arms about the victim. But the hero himself undertook to slay the monster, on condition that, if the maiden were rescued by his valor, she should be his reward. The parents consented. Perseus embraced his promised bride; then-- Loosing his arms from her waist he flew upward, awaiting the sea beast. Onward it came from the southward, as bulky and black as a galley, Lazily coasting along, as the fish fled leaping before it; Lazily breasting the ripple, and watching by sand bar and headland, Listening for laughter of maidens at bleaching, or song of the fisher, Children at play on the pebbles, or cattle that passed on the sand hills. Rolling and dripping it came, where bedded in glistening purple Cold on the cold seaweeds lay the long white sides of the maiden, Trembling, her face in her hands, and her tresses afloat on the water.[209] [Illustration: FIG. 121. PERSEUS FINDS ANDROMEDA] [Illustration: PERSEUS FREEING ANDROMEDA] The youth darted down upon the back of the monster and plunged his sword into its shoulder, then eluded its furious attack by means of his wings. Wherever he could find a passage for his sword, he plunged it between the scales of flank and side. The wings of the hero were finally drenched and unmanageable with the blood and water that the brute spouted. Then alighting on a rock and holding by a projection, he gave the monster his deathblow. The joyful parents, with Perseus and Andromeda, repaired to the palace, where a banquet was opened for them. But in the midst of the festivities a noise was heard of warlike clamor, and Phineus, who had formerly been betrothed to the bride, burst in, demanding her for his own. In vain, Cepheus remonstrated that all such engagements had been dissolved by the sentence of death passed upon Andromeda, and that if Phineus had actually loved the girl, he would have tried to rescue her. Phineus and his adherents, persisting in their intent, attacked the wedding party and would have broken it up with most admired disorder, but Mid the fabled Libyan bridal stood Perseus in stern tranquillity of wrath, Half stood, half floated on his ankle plumes Out-swelling, while the bright face on his shield Looked into stone the raging fray.[210] Leaving Phineus and his fellows in merited petrifaction, and conveying Andromeda to Seriphus, the hero there turned into stone Polydectes and his court, because the tyrant had rendered Danaë's life intolerable with his attentions. Perseus then restored to their owners the charmed helmet, the winged shoes, and the pouch in which he had conveyed the Gorgon's head. The head itself he bestowed upon Minerva, who bore it afterward upon her ægis or shield. Of that Gorgon shield no simpler moral interpretation can be framed than the following: What was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin, Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone, But rigid looks of chaste austerity, And noble grace that dashed brute violence With sudden adoration and blank awe![211] With his mother and his wife Perseus returned to Argos to seek his grandfather. But Acrisius, still fearing his doom, had retired to Larissa in Thessaly. Thither Perseus followed him, and found him presiding over certain funeral games. As luck would have it, the hero took part in the quoit throwing, and hurled a quoit far beyond the mark. The disk, falling upon his grandfather's foot, brought about the old man's death, and in that way the prophecy was fulfilled. Of Perseus and Andromeda three sons were born, through one of whom, Electryon, they became grandparents of the famous Alcmene, sweetheart of Jove and mother of Hercules. =155. Bellerophon and the Chimæra.=[212] The horse Pegasus, which sprang from the Gorgon's blood, found a master in Bellerophon of Corinth. This youth was of the Hellenic branch of the Greek nation, being descended from Sisyphus and through him from Æolus, the son of Hellen.[213] His adventures should therefore be recited with those of Jason and other descendants of Æolus in the next chapter, but that they follow so closely on those of Perseus. His father, Glaucus, king of Corinth, is frequently identified with Glaucus the fisherman. This Glaucus of Corinth was noted for his love of horse racing, his fashion of feeding his mares on human flesh, and his destruction by the fury of his horses; for having upset his chariot, they tore their master to pieces. As to his son, Bellerophon, the following is related: In Lycia a monster, breathing fire, made great havoc. The fore part of his body was a compound of the lion and the goat; the hind part was a dragon's. The king, Iobates, sought a hero to destroy this Chimæra, as it was called. At that time Bellerophon arrived at his court. The gallant youth brought letters from Pr[oe]tus, the son-in-law of Iobates, recommending Bellerophon in the warmest terms as an unconquerable hero, but adding a request to his father-in-law to put him to death. For Pr[oe]tus, suspecting that his wife Antea looked with too great favor on the young warrior, schemed thus to destroy him. Iobates accordingly determined to send Bellerophon against the Chimæra. Bellerophon accepted the proposal, but before proceeding to the combat, consulted the soothsayer Polyidus, who counseled him to procure, if possible, the horse Pegasus for the conflict. Now this horse had been caught and tamed by Minerva and by her presented to the Muses. Polyidus, therefore, directed Bellerophon to pass the night in the temple of Minerva. While he slept, Minerva brought him a golden bridle. When he awoke, she showed him Pegasus drinking at the well of Pirene. At sight of the bridle, the winged steed came willingly and suffered himself to be taken. Bellerophon mounted him, sped through the air, found the Chimæra, and gained an easy victory. [Illustration: FIG. 122. BELLEROPHON AND PEGASUS] After the conquest of this monster, Bellerophon was subjected to further trials and labors by his unfriendly host, but by the aid of Pegasus he triumphed over all. At length Iobates, seeing that the hero was beloved of the gods, gave him his daughter in marriage and made him his successor on the throne. It is said that Bellerophon, by his pride and presumption, drew upon himself the anger of the Olympians; that he even attempted to fly to heaven on his winged steed; but the king of gods and men sent a gadfly, which, stinging Pegasus, caused him to throw his rider, who wandered ever after lame, blind, and lonely through the Aleian field, and perished miserably. =156. Hercules (Heracles): His Youth.=[214] Alcmene, daughter of Electryon and granddaughter of Perseus and Andromeda, was beloved of Jupiter. Their son, the mighty Hercules, born in Thebes, became the national hero of Greece. Juno, always hostile to the offspring of her husband by mortal mothers, declared war against Hercules from his birth. She sent two serpents to destroy him as he lay in his cradle, but the precocious infant strangled them with his hands. In his youth he passed for the son of his stepfather Amphitryon, king of Thebes, grandson of Perseus and Andromeda, and son of Alcæus. Hence his patronymic, Alcides. Rhadamanthus trained him in wisdom and virtue, Linus in music. Unfortunately the latter attempted one day to chastise Hercules; whereupon the pupil killed the master with a lute. After this melancholy breach of discipline, the youth was rusticated,--sent off to the mountains, where among the herdsmen and the cattle he grew to mighty stature, slew the Thespian lion, and performed various deeds of valor. To him, while still a youth, appeared, according to one story, two women at a meeting of the ways,--Pleasure and Duty. The gifts offered by Duty were the "Choice of Hercules." Soon afterward he contended with none other than Apollo for the tripod of Delphi; but reconciliation was effected between the combatants by the gods of Olympus, and from that day forth Apollo and Hercules remained true friends, each respecting the prowess of the other. Returning to Thebes, the hero aided his half brother Iphicles and his reputed father Amphitryon in throwing off the yoke of the city of Orchomenus, and was rewarded with the hand of the princess Megara. A few years later, while in the very pride of his manhood, he was driven insane by the implacable Juno. In his madness he slew his children, and would have slain Amphitryon, also, had not Minerva knocked him over with a stone and plunged him into a deep sleep, from which he awoke in his right mind. Next, for expiation of the bloodshed, he was rendered subject to his cousin Eurystheus and compelled to perform his commands. This humiliation, Juno, of course, had decreed. =157. His Labors.= Eurystheus enjoined upon the hero a succession of desperate undertakings, which are called the twelve "Labors of Hercules." The first was the combat with the lion that infested the valley of Nemea, the skin of which Hercules was ordered to bring to Mycenæ. After using in vain his club and arrows against the lion, Hercules strangled the animal with his hands and returned, carrying its carcass on his shoulders; but Eurystheus, frightened at the sight and at this proof of the prodigious strength of the hero, ordered him to deliver the account of his exploits, in future, outside the town. [Illustration: FIG. 123. HERACLES AND THE NEMEAN LION] His second labor was the slaughter of the Hydra, a water serpent that ravaged the country of Argos and dwelt in a swamp near the well of Amymone. It had nine heads, of which the middle one was immortal. Hercules struck off the heads with his club; but in the place of each dispatched, two new ones appeared. At last, with the assistance of his faithful nephew Iolaüs, he burned away the other heads of the Hydra and buried the ninth, which was immortal, under a rock. [Illustration: FIG. 124. HERACLES AND THE HYDRA] His third labor was the capture of a boar that haunted Mount Erymanthus in Arcadia. The adventure was, in itself, successful. But on the same journey Hercules made the friendship of the centaur Pholus, who, receiving him hospitably, poured out for him without stint the choicest wine that the centaurs possessed. As a consequence, Hercules became involved in a broil with the other centaurs of the mountain. Unfortunately his friend Pholus, drawing one of the arrows of Hercules from a brother centaur, wounded himself therewith and died of the poison. The fourth labor of Hercules was the capture of a wonderful stag of golden antlers and brazen hoofs, that ranged the hills of Cerynea, between Arcadia and Achaia. His fifth labor was the destruction of the Stymphalian birds, which with cruel beaks and sharp talons harassed the inhabitants of the valley of Stymphalus, devouring many of them. His sixth labor was the cleaning of the Augean stables. Augeas, king of Elis, had a herd of three thousand oxen, whose stalls had not been cleansed for thirty years. Hercules, bringing the rivers Alpheüs and Peneüs through them, purified them thoroughly in one day. [Illustration: FIG. 125. HERACLES BRINGING HOME THE BOAR] His seventh labor was the overthrow of the Cretan bull,--an awful but beautiful brute, at once a gift and a curse bestowed by Neptune upon Minos of Crete.[215] This monster Hercules brought to Mycenæ. His eighth labor was the removal of the horses of Diomedes, king of Thrace. These horses subsisted on human flesh, were swift and fearful. Diomedes, attempting to retain them, was killed by Hercules and given to the horses to devour. They were then delivered to Eurystheus; but, escaping, they roamed the hills of Arcadia, till the wild beasts of Apollo tore them to pieces. His ninth labor was of a more delicate character. Admeta, the daughter of Eurystheus, desired the girdle of the queen of the Amazons, and Eurystheus ordered Hercules to get it. The Amazons were a nation dominated by warlike women, and in their hands were many cities. It was their custom to bring up only the female children, whom they hardened by martial discipline; the boys were either dispatched to the neighboring nations or put to death. Hippolyta, the queen, received Hercules kindly and consented to yield him the girdle; but Juno, taking the form of an Amazon, persuaded the people that the strangers were carrying off their queen. They instantly armed and beset the ship. Whereupon Hercules, thinking that Hippolyta had acted treacherously, slew her and, taking her girdle, made sail homeward. [Illustration: FIG. 126. HERACLES WITH THE BULL] The tenth task enjoined upon him was to capture for Eurystheus the oxen of Geryon, a monster with three bodies, who dwelt in the island Erythea (the red),--so called because it lay in the west, under the rays of the setting sun. This description is thought to apply to Spain, of which Geryon was king. After traversing various countries, Hercules reached at length the frontiers of Libya and Europe, where he raised the two mountains of Abyla and Calpe as monuments of his progress,--the Pillars of Hercules; or, according to another account, rent one mountain into two and left half on each side, forming the Strait of Gibraltar. The oxen were guarded by the giant Eurytion and his two-headed dog, but Hercules killed the warders and conveyed the oxen in safety to Eurystheus. One of the most difficult labors was the eleventh,--the robbery of the golden apples of the Hesperides. Hercules did not know where to find them; but after various adventures, arrived at Mount Atlas in Africa. Since Atlas was the father of the Hesperides, Hercules thought he might through him obtain the apples. The hero, accordingly, taking the burden of the heavens on his own shoulders,[216] sent Atlas to seek the apples. The giant returned with them and proposed to take them himself to Eurystheus. "Even so," said Hercules; "but, pray, hold this load for me a moment, while I procure a pad to ease my shoulders." Unsuspectingly the giant resumed the burden of the heavens. Hercules took the apples. [Illustration: FIG. 127 HERACLES AND CERBERUS] His twelfth exploit was to fetch Cerberus from the lower world. To this end he descended into Hades, accompanied by Mercury and Minerva. There he obtained permission from Pluto to carry Cerberus to the upper air, provided he could do it without the use of weapons. In spite of the monster's struggling he seized him, held him fast, carried him to Eurystheus, and afterward restored him to the lower regions. While in Hades, Hercules also obtained the liberty of Theseus, his admirer and imitator, who had been detained there for an attempt at abducting Proserpine.[217] After his return from Hades to his native Thebes, he renounced his wife Megara, for, having slain his children by her in his fit of madness, he looked upon the marriage as displeasing to the gods. Two other exploits not recorded among the twelve labors are the victories over Antæus and Cacus. Antæus, the son of Poseidon and Gæa, was a giant and wrestler whose strength was invincible so long as he remained in contact with his mother Earth. He compelled all strangers who came to his country to wrestle with him, on condition that if conquered, they should suffer death. Hercules encountered him and, finding that it was of no avail to throw him,--for he always rose with renewed strength from every fall,--lifted him up from the earth and strangled him in the air. Later writers tell of an army of Pygmies which, finding Hercules asleep after his defeat of Antæus, made preparations to attack him, as if they were about to attack a city. But the hero, awakening, laughed at the little warriors, wrapped some of them up in his lion's skin, and carried them to Eurystheus. [Illustration: FIG. 128. HERACLES AND ANTÆUS] Cacus was a giant who inhabited a cave on Mount Aventine and plundered the surrounding country. When Hercules was driving home the oxen of Geryon, Cacus stole part of the cattle while the hero slept. That their footprints might not indicate where they had been driven, he dragged them backward by their tails to his cave. Hercules was deceived by the stratagem and would have failed to find his oxen, had it not happened that while he was driving the remainder of the herd past the cave where the stolen ones were concealed, those within, beginning to low, discovered themselves to him. Hercules promptly dispatched the thief. Through most of these expeditions Hercules was attended by Iolaüs, his devoted friend, the son of his half brother Iphicles. =158. His Later Exploits.= On the later exploits of the hero we can dwell but briefly. Having, in a fit of madness, killed his friend Iphitus, he was condemned for the offense to spend three years as the slave of Queen Omphale. He lived effeminately, wearing at times the dress of a woman and spinning wool with the handmaidens of Omphale, while the queen wore his lion's skin. But during this period he contrived to engage in about as many adventures as would fill the life of an ordinary hero. He rescued Daphnis from Lityerses and threw the bloodthirsty king[218] into the river Mæander; he discovered the body of Icarus[219] and buried it; he joined the company of Argonauts, who were on their way to Colchis to secure the golden fleece, and he captured the thievish gnomes, called Cercopes. Two of these grotesque rascals had made off with the weapons of Hercules while he was sleeping. When he had caught them he strapped them, knees upward, to a yoke and so bore them away. Their drollery, however, regained them their liberty. It is said that some of them having once deceived Jupiter were changed to apes. =159. The Loss of Hylas.=[220] In the Argonautic adventure Hercules was attended by a lad, Hylas, whom he tenderly loved and on whose account he deserted the expedition in Mysia; for Hylas had been stolen by the Naiads. ... Never was Heracles apart from Hylas, not when midnoon was high in heaven, not when Dawn with her white horses speeds upwards to the dwelling of Zeus, not when the twittering nestlings look towards the perch, while their mother flaps her wings above the smoke-browned beam; and all this that the lad might be fashioned to his mind, and might drive a straight furrow, and come to the true measure of man.... And Hylas of the yellow hair, with a vessel of bronze in his hand, went to draw water against supper-time for Heracles himself and the steadfast Telamon, for these comrades twain supped ever at one table. Soon was he ware of a spring in a hollow land, and the rushes grew thickly round it, and dark swallowwort, and green maidenhair, and blooming parsley, and deer grass spreading through the marshy land. In the midst of the water the nymphs were arranging their dances,--the sleepless nymphs, dread goddesses of the country people, Eunice, and Malis, and Nycheia, with her April eyes. And now the boy was holding out the wide-mouthed pitcher to the water, intent on dipping it; but the nymphs all clung to his hand, for love of the Argive lad had fluttered the soft hearts of all of them. Then down he sank into the black water, headlong all, as when a star shoots flaming from the sky, plumb in the deep it falls; and a mate shouts out to the seamen, "Up with the gear, my lads, the wind is fair for sailing." Then the nymphs held the weeping boy on their laps, and with gentle words were striving to comfort him. But the son of Amphitryon was troubled about the lad, and went forth, carrying his bended bow in Scythian fashion, and the club that is ever grasped in his right hand. Thrice he shouted, "Hylas!" as loud as his deep throat could call, and thrice again the boy heard him, and thrice came his voice from the water, and, hard by though he was, he seemed very far away. And as when a bearded lion, a ravening lion on the hills, hears the bleating of a fawn afar off and rushes forth from his lair to seize it, his readiest meal, even so the mighty Heracles, in longing for the lad, sped through the trackless briars and ranged over much country. Reckless are lovers: great toils did Heracles bear, in hills and thickets wandering; and Jason's quest was all postponed to this.... Thus loveliest Hylas is numbered with the Blessed; but for a runaway they girded at Heracles--the heroes--because he roamed from Argo of the sixty oarsmen. But on foot he came to Colchis and inhospitable Phasis. =160. The Rescue of Daphnis.=[221] Daphnis was the ideal Sicilian shepherd and to him was ascribed the invention of pastoral story and song. His father was Hermes (Mercury); his mother, a nymph who laid him when an infant in a charming valley in a laurel grove from which he received his name,[222] and on account of which Apollo loved him and endowed him with the gift of idyllic verse. He was brought up by nymphs and shepherds, and, avoiding the noisy haunts of men, he tended his flocks on Mount Ætna, winter and summer. He loved a maiden named Piplea, but she was borne away by robbers. He followed them to Phrygia, and there found his sweetheart in the power of the king of that realm, Lityerses. This Lityerses had a pleasant custom of making strangers try a contest with him in reaping corn. If he overcame them, he cut off their heads in the evening and concealed their bodies in the sheaves, singing a comfortable song meanwhile. In order to win back Piplea, Daphnis entered upon the reaping contest with the king and made himself comfortable, too, by singing a harvest song meanwhile. But Lityerses surpassed him at the work and was about to put him to death, singing no doubt a comfortable song of the reaper, Death, meanwhile,--when suddenly Hercules appeared upon the scene. He doesn't seem to have spent much time singing: he assured Daphnis of his head by cutting off that of the pleasant king; and then he threw the body into the river Mæander. Daphnis regained his Piplea and one would suppose that they lived happy ever after. Another story, unfortunately, relates events in which Piplea's name does not occur. A Naiad fell in love with the handsome shepherd and made him promise eternal fidelity to her, threatening him with blindness if he violated his vow. It was hard for poor Daphnis, for nearly every lass he met made love to him. At last a princess intoxicated him and he forgot his vow. Immediately the Naiad showed the quality of her love by striking him blind. He consoled himself for a while by singing his songs and playing the flute as he wandered from place to place. Then weary, he called on his father for aid. Mercury accordingly transported him to heaven and caused a well to gush forth on the spot from which he ascended. Here the Sicilians offered yearly sacrifice in his honor. Theocritus gives us a Lityerses song as he undoubtedly used to hear it sung by the harvesters of the country-side in Sicily:[223] Demeter, rich in fruit and rich in grain, may this corn be easy to win and fruitful exceedingly! Bind, ye binders, the sheaves, lest the wayfarer should cry, "Men of straw were the workers here; aye, and their hire was wasted!" See that the cut stubble faces the North wind, or the West;--'tis thus that the grain waxes richest. They that thresh corn should shun the noonday sleep; at noon the chaff parts easiest from the straw. As for the reapers, let them begin when the crested lark is waking, and cease when he sleeps, but take holiday in the heat. Lads, the frog has a jolly life: he is not cumbered about a butler to his drink; for he has liquor by him unstinted! Boil the lentils better, thou miserly steward; take heed lest thou chop thy fingers, when thou'rt splitting cummin seed. When Matthew Arnold is writing of the death of his dear friend, the poet, Arthur Hugh Clough, who died in Italy,[224] he says: And now in happier air, Wandering with the great Mother's train divine.... Within a folding of the Apennine, Thou hearest the immortal chants of old! Putting his sickle to the perilous grain In the hot cornfield of the Phrygian king, For thee the Lityerses song again Young Daphnis with his silver voice doth sing; Sings his Sicilian fold, His sheep, his hapless love, his blinded eyes:-- And how a call celestial round him rang, And heavenward from the fountain-brink he sprang,-- And all the marvel of the golden skies! =161. The Expedition against Laomedon.= After his servitude under Omphale was ended, Hercules sailed with eighteen ships against Troy. For Laomedon, king of that realm, had refused to give Hercules the horses of Neptune, which he had promised in gratitude for the rescue of his daughter Hesione from the sea-monster.[225] The hero, overcoming Troy, placed a son of Laomedon, Priam, upon the throne, and gave Hesione to Telamon, who, with Peleus, Oïcles, and other Greek heroes, had accompanied him. Also worthy of mention among the exploits of Hercules were his successful expeditions against Pylos and Sparta, his victory over the giants, his struggle with Death for the body and life of Alcestis,[226] and his delivery, according to prophecy, of Prometheus, who until that time had remained in chains upon the Caucasian Mountains.[227] =162. The Death of Hercules.= Finally, the hero married Dejanira, daughter of [OE]neus of Calydon and sister of Meleager of the Calydonian hunt. With her he lived three prosperous years. But on one occasion, as they journeyed together, they came to a river across which the centaur Nessus carried travelers for a stated fee. Hercules proceeded to ford the river and gave Dejanira to Nessus to be carried across. Nessus, however, attempted to make off with her; whereupon Hercules, hearing her cries, shot an arrow into his heart. The centaur, as he died, bade Dejanira take a portion of his blood and keep it, saying that it might be used as a charm to preserve the love of her husband. Dejanira did so. Before long, jealous of Hercules' fondness for Iole of [OE]chalia, a captive maiden, she steeped a sacrificial robe of her husband's in the blood of Nessus. As soon as the garment became warm on the body of Hercules, the poison penetrated his limbs. In his frenzy he seized Lichas, who had brought him the fatal robe, and hurled him into the sea; then tried to wrench off the garment, but it stuck to his flesh and tore away whole pieces of his body. [Illustration: FIG. 129. HERCULES AND NESSUS] Alcides, from [OE]chalia crowned With conquest, felt the envenomed robe, and tore, Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines, And Lichas from the top of [OE]ta threw Into the Euboic Sea.[228] [Illustration: THE WEDDING OF HERCULES AND HEBE] In this state he embarked on board a ship and was conveyed home. Dejanira, on seeing what she had unwittingly done, hanged herself. Hercules, prepared to die, ascended Mount [OE]ta, where he built a funeral pile of trees, gave his bow and arrows to Philoctetes,[229] and laid himself upon the pile, his head resting on his club and his lion's skin spread over him. With a countenance as serene as if he were taking his place at a festal board, he commanded Philoctetes to apply the torch. The flames spread apace, and soon invested the whole mass.[230] The gods themselves grieved to see the champion of the earth so brought to his end. But Jupiter took care that only his mother's part in him should perish by the flames. The immortal element, derived from Jupiter himself, was translated to heaven; and by the consent of the gods--even of reluctant Juno--Hercules was admitted as a deity to the ranks of the immortals. The white-armed queen of heaven was finally reconciled to the offspring of Alcmene. She adopted him for her son and gave him in marriage her daughter Hebe. Deep degraded to a coward's slave, Endless contests bore Alcides brave, Through the thorny path of suffering led; Slew the Hydra, crushed the lion's might, Threw himself, to bring his friend to light, Living, in the skiff that bears the dead. All the torments, every toil of earth, Juno's hatred on him could impose, Well he bore them, from his fated birth To life's grandly mournful close. Till the god, the earthly part forsaken, From the man in flames asunder taken, Drank the heavenly ether's purer breath. Joyous in the new unwonted lightness, Soared he upwards to celestial brightness, Earth's dark heavy burden lost in death. High Olympus gives harmonious greeting To the hall where reigns his sire adored; Youth's bright goddess, with a blush at meeting, Gives the nectar to her lord.[231] In the tragedy called The Maidens of Trachis, Sophocles describes this hero as "The noblest man of all the earth, of whom thou ne'er shalt see the like again." To some of us the manner of his earthly end may seem unworthy; but the Greek poets teach that, in the unabated vigor of one's powers, serenely to meet and accept one's doom is the happiest death. This view is well expressed by Matthew Arnold in the following fragment of a Greek chorus sung with reference to the death of Hercules: O frivolous mind of man, Light ignorance, and hurrying, unsure thoughts! Though man bewails you not, How _I_ bewail you!... For you will not put on New hearts with the inquirer's holy robe, And purged, considerate minds. And him on whom, at the end Of toil and dolor untold, The Gods have said that repose At last shall descend undisturb'd-- Him you expect to behold In an easy old age, in a happy home; No end but this you praise. But him, on whom, in the prime Of life, with vigor undimm'd, With unspent mind, and a soul Unworn, undebased, undecay'd, Mournfully grating, the gates Of the city of death have forever closed-- _Him_, I count _him_, well-starr'd.[232] Here we take leave for a time of the descendants of Inachus. We shall revert to them in the stories of Minos of Crete and of the house of Labdacus. FOOTNOTES: [199] § 21, and Commentary, § 57. [200] For references to genealogical tables, see Commentary, § 148. [201] Apollodorus, 2, 1, § 5, etc.; Pausanias; Ovid, Heroides, 14; Horace, Odes, 3; 11; 23. [202] Simonides of Ceos, also Apollodorus, Pausanias, and Hyginus (Fables). [203] Ovid, Metam. 4, 608-739; 5, 1-249. [204] For Gorgons and Grææ, see § 52. [205] William Morris, The Doom of King Acrisius, in The Earthly Paradise. [206] William Morris, The Doom of King Acrisius, in The Earthly Paradise. [207] From Shelley's lines On the Medusa of Leonardo Da Vinci in the Florentine Gallery. [208] Milton, Il Penseroso, l. 19. [209] From Charles Kingsley's Andromeda. [210] Milman, Samor. [211] Milton, Comus. [212] Iliad, 6, 155-202; Apollodorus, 1, 9, § 3; Horace, Odes, 4; 11; 26. [213] See Commentary, §§ 103, 155. [214] Authorities are Homer,--Iliad and Odyssey; Theocritus 24; 25, etc.; Apollodorus, 2, 4, § 7, etc.; Sophocles, Women of Trachis; Euripides, Hercules Furens; Ovid, Metam. 9, 102-272; Seneca,--Hercules Furens and [OE]tæus; Hyginus, etc. [215] § 172. [216] Atlas and the heavens, § 153. [217] § 180. [218] § 160. [219] § 173. [220] Theocritus. Idyl XIII (Lang's translation). [221] Theocritus, Idyl X, 41, and the Scholia; Virgil, Bucol. 5; 8; 10; and Comments. [222] See the story of Daphne. [223] Theocritus, Idyl X (Lang's translation). [224] Thyrsis. [225] § 119. [226] § 83. [227] § 15. [228] Milton. [229] See § 220. According to Sophocles, Philoctetes' father P[oe]as applied the torch. [230] See the spirited poems, Deïaneira and Herakles, in the classical, but too little read, Epic of Hades, by Lewis Morris. [231] Schiller's Ideal and Life. Translated by S. G. Bulfinch, brother of Thomas Bulfinch. [232] From Fragment of Chorus of a "Dejaneira." [Illustration: FIG. 130. THE BUILDING OF THE ARGO] CHAPTER XV THE FAMILY OF ÆOLUS =163. Descendants of Deucalion.= Athamas, brother of Sisyphus, was descended from Æolus, whose father, Hellen, was the son of Deucalion of Thessaly. Athamas had by his wife Nephele two children, Phrixus and Helle. After a time, growing indifferent to his wife, Athamas put her away and took Ino, the daughter of Cadmus. The unfortunate sequel of this second marriage we have already seen.[233] Nephele, apprehending danger to her children from the influence of their stepmother, took measures to put them out of her reach. Mercury gave her a ram with a golden fleece, on which she set the two children. Vaulting into the air, the animal took his course to the east; but when he was crossing the strait that divides Europe and Asia, the girl Helle fell from his back into the sea, which from her was afterward called the Hellespont--now the Dardanelles. The ram safely landed the boy Phrixus in Colchis, where he was hospitably received by Æetes, the king of that country. Phrixus sacrificed the ram to Jupiter, but the fleece he gave to Æetes, who placed it in a consecrated grove under the care of a sleepless dragon.[234] =164. The Quest of the Golden Fleece.=[235] Another realm in Thessaly, near to that of Athamas, was ruled over by his nephew Æson. Æson, although he had a son Jason, surrendered the crown to a half brother, Pelias,[236] on condition that he should hold it only during the minority of the lad. This young Jason was, by the way, a second cousin of Bellerophon and of the Atalanta who ran against Hippomenes, and a first cousin of Admetus, the husband of Alcestis.[237] When, however, Jason, being grown up, came to demand the crown, his uncle Pelias with wily intent suggested to him the glorious quest of the golden fleece. Jason, pleased with the thought, forthwith made preparations for the expedition. At that time the only species of navigation known to the Greeks consisted of small boats or canoes hollowed out from trunks of trees; when, accordingly, Jason employed Argus to build a vessel capable of containing fifty men, it was considered a gigantic undertaking. The vessel was named _Argo_, probably after its builder. Jason soon found himself at the head of a bold band of comrades, many of whom afterward were renowned among the heroes and demigods of Greece. From every region of Ægea's shore The brave assembled; those illustrious twins Castor and Pollux; Orpheus, tuneful bard; Zetes and Calaïs, as the wind in speed; Strong Hercules and many a chief renowned. On deep Iolcos' sandy shore they thronged, Gleaming in armor, ardent of exploits,-- And soon, the laurel cord and the huge stone Uplifting to the deck, unmoored the bark; Whose keel of wondrous length the skillful hand Of Argus fashioned for the proud attempt; And in the extended keel a lofty mast Upraised, and sails full swelling; to the chiefs Unwonted objects. Now first, now they learned Their bolder steerage over ocean wave, Led by the golden stars, as Chiron's art Had marked the sphere celestial.[238] Theseus, Meleager, Peleus, and Nestor were also among these Argonauts, or sailors of the _Argo_. The ship with her crew of heroes left the shores of Thessaly, and touching at the island of Lemnos, thence crossed to Mysia and thence to Thrace. Here they found the sage Phineus, who instructed the Argonauts how they might pass the Symplegades, or Clashing Islands, at the entrance of the Euxine Sea. When they reached these islands they, accordingly, let go a dove, which took her way between the rocks and passed in safety, only losing some feathers of her tail. Jason and his men, seizing the favorable moment of the rebound, plied their oars with vigor and passed safe through, though the islands closed behind them and actually grazed the stern of the vessel. They then rowed along the shore till they arrived at the eastern end of the sea, and so landed in the kingdom of Colchis. [Illustration: FIG. 131. JASON CONQUERS THE BULLS AND STEALS THE FLEECE] Jason made known his message to the Colchian king, Æetes, who consented to give up the golden fleece on certain conditions, namely, that Jason should yoke to the plow two fire-breathing bulls with brazen feet, and that he then should sow the teeth of the dragon that Cadmus had slain. Jason, although it was well known that a crop of armed men would spring up from the teeth, destined to turn their weapons against their producer, accepted the conditions, and a time was set for the undertaking. The hero, however, wisely spent the interval in wooing Medea, the daughter of Æetes; and with such success that they plighted troth before the altar of Hecate. The princess then furnished her hero with a charm which should aid him in the contest to come. Accordingly, when the momentous day was arrived, Jason with calmness encountered the fire-breathing monsters and speedily yoked them to the plow. The Colchians stood in amazement; the Greeks shouted for joy. Next, the hero proceeded to sow the dragon's teeth and plow them in. Up sprang, according to prediction, the crop of armed men, brandished aloft their weapons, and rushed upon Jason. The Greeks trembled for their hero. Medea herself grew pale with fear. The hero himself for a time, with sword and shield, kept his assailants at bay; but he surely would have been overwhelmed by the numbers, had he not resorted to a charm which Medea had taught him: seizing a stone, he threw it in the midst of his foes. Immediately they turned their arms against one another, and soon there was not one of the dragon's brood alive. It remained only to lull to sleep the dragon that guarded the fleece. This was done by scattering over him a few drops of a preparation which, again, Medea had supplied. Jason then seized the fleece, and, with his friends and his sweetheart accompanying, hastened to the vessel. It is said that, in order to delay the pursuit of her father Æetes, Medea tore to pieces her young brother Absyrtus and strewed fragments of him along the line of their flight. The ruse succeeded. =165. The Return of the Argonauts.= On their way home the Argonauts beat a devious course, sailing after other dangers had been overcome, by the island that the Sirens infested. And here the heroes would have hung their halsers and remained, had not Orpheus vanquished the seductive strains of the sea-muses with his own more melodious and persuasive song.[239] Oh, happy seafarers are ye And surely all your ills are past, And toil upon the land and sea, Since ye are brought to us at last; chanted the Sirens, promising long rest and the kingdoms of sleep. But now, but now, when ye have lain Asleep with us a little while Beneath the washing of the main, How calm shall be your waking smile! Then Orpheus replied, encouraging his men: A little more, a little more, O carriers of the Golden Fleece! A little labor with the oar, Before we reach the land of Greece. E'en now, perchance, faint rumors reach Men's ears of this our victory, And draw them down upon the beach To gaze across the empty sea. Again the Sirens: Alas! and will ye stop your ears, In vain desire to do aught, And wish to live 'mid cares and fears, Until the last fear makes you nought? But Orpheus, reminding the rowers of home and love and joy: Is not the May-time now on earth, When close against the city wall The folks are singing in their mirth, While on their heads the May flowers fall? carried them past triumphant. The Argonauts arrived safe in Thessaly. Jason delivered the fleece to Pelias, and dedicated the _Argo_ to Neptune. =166. Medea and Æson.=[240] Medea's career as a sorceress was, by no means, completed. At Jason's request she undertook next to restore his aged father Æson to the vigor of youth. To the full moon she addressed her incantations, to the stars, to Hecate, to Tellus, the goddess of the earth. In a chariot borne aloft by dragons she traversed the fields of air to regions where flourished potent plants, which only she knew how to select. Nine nights she employed in her search, and during that period shunned all intercourse with mortals. [Illustration: FIG. 132. MEDEA] Next she erected two altars, the one to Hecate, the other to Hebe, and sacrificed a black sheep,--pouring libations of milk and wine. She implored Pluto and his stolen bride to spare the old man's life. Then she directed that Æson be led forth; and throwing him into a deep sleep, she laid him on a bed of herbs, like one dead. No eye profane looked upon her mysteries. With streaming hair thrice she moved round the altars, dipped flaming twigs in the blood, and laid them thereon to burn. Meanwhile, the caldron with its contents was preparing. In it she put magic herbs, with seeds and flowers of acrid juice, stones from the distant East, and sand from the shore of all-surrounding ocean, hoar-frost gathered by moonlight, a screech owl's head and wings, and the entrails of a wolf. She added fragments of the shells of tortoises and the liver of stags--animals tenacious of life--and the head and beak of a crow, which outlives nine generations of men. These, with many other things "without a name," she boiled together for her purposed work, stirring them with a dry olive branch. The branch, when taken out, instantly was green and erelong was covered with leaves and a plentiful growth of young olives; and as the liquor boiled and bubbled and sometimes bubbled over, the grass wherever the sprinklings fell leaped into verdure like that of spring. Seeing that all was ready, Medea cut the throat of the old man, let out his blood, and poured into his mouth and his wound the juices of her caldron. As soon as he had completely imbibed them, his hair and beard lost their whiteness and assumed the color of youth; his paleness and emaciation were gone; his veins were full of blood, his limbs of vigor and robustness; and Æson, on awakening, found himself forty years younger. [Illustration: FIG. 133. MEDEA AND DAUGHTERS OF PELIAS] =167. Pelias.=[241] In another instance, Medea made her arts the instrument of revenge. Pelias, the usurping uncle of Jason, still kept him out of his heritage. But the daughters of Pelias wished Medea to restore their father also to youth. Medea simulated consent, but prepared her caldron for him in a new and singular way. She put in only water and a few simple herbs. In the night she persuaded the daughters of Pelias to kill him. They at first hesitated to strike, but Medea chiding their irresolution, they turned away their faces and, giving random blows, smote him with their weapons. Starting from his sleep, the old man cried out, "My daughters, would you kill your father?" Whereat their hearts failed them, and the weapons fell from their hands. Medea, however, struck the fatal blow. They placed him in the caldron, but, as might be expected, with no success. Medea herself had taken care to escape before they discovered the treachery. She had, however, little profit of the fruits of her crime. Jason, for whom she had sacrificed so much, put her away, for he wished to marry Creüsa, princess of Corinth. Whereupon Medea, enraged at his ingratitude, called on the gods for vengeance; then, sending a poisoned robe as a gift to the bride, killing her own children, and setting fire to the palace, she mounted her serpent-drawn chariot and fled to Athens. There she married King Ægeus, the father of Theseus; and we shall meet her again when we come to the adventures of that hero.[242] The incantation of Medea readily suggests that of the witches in Macbeth: Round about the caldron go; In the poison'd entrails throw.-- Toad, that under cold stone Days and nights has thirty-one Swelter'd venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i' the charmèd pot.... Fillet of a fenny snake In the caldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,-- For a charm of powerful trouble Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.... Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, Witches' mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, Root of hemlock digged i' the dark.... Make the gruel thick and slab.[243] FOOTNOTES: [233] § 144. [234] Apollodorus, 1, 9, § 1; Apollonius Rhodius, 1, 927. [235] Ovid, Metam. 6, 667; 7, 143. The Argonautica of Apollonius of Rhodes. [236] See § 120. [237] See Table G, Commentary, § 103. [238] Dyer, The Fleece. [239] William Morris, Life and Death of Jason. [240] Ovid, Metam. 7, 143-293. [241] Ovid, Metam. 7, 297-353. [242] § 176. [243] Macbeth, IV, i. Consult. CHAPTER XVI THE FAMILY OF ÆTOLUS AND ITS CONNECTIONS =168. The Calydonian Hunt.=[244] One of the heroes of the Argonautic expedition had been Meleager, a son of [OE]neus and Althæa, rulers of Calydon in Ætolia. His parents were cousins, descended from a son of Endymion named Ætolus, who had colonized that realm. By ties of kinship and marriage they were allied with many historic figures. Their daughter Dejanira had become, as we have already noted, the wife of Hercules; while Leda, the sister of Althæa, was mother of Castor and Pollux,[245] and of Clytemnestra and Helen, intimately concerned in the Trojan War. When her son Meleager was born, Althæa had beheld the three Destinies, who, as they spun their fatal thread, foretold that the life of the child should last no longer than a certain brand then burning upon the hearth. Althæa seized and quenched the brand, and carefully preserved it while Meleager grew to boyhood, youth, and man's estate. It chanced, then, that [OE]neus, offering sacrifices to the gods, omitted to pay due honors to Diana; wherefore she, indignant at the neglect, sent a boar of enormous size to lay waste the fields of Calydon. Meleager called on the heroes of Greece to join in a hunt for the ravenous monster. Theseus and his friend Pirithoüs,[246] Jason, Peleus the father of Achilles, Telamon the father of Ajax, Nestor, then a youth, but who in his age bore arms with Achilles and Ajax in the Trojan War,[247]--these and many more joined in the enterprise. With them came, also, Atalanta, the daughter of Iasius, of the race of Callisto,-- Arcadian Atalanta, snowy-souled, Fair as the snow and footed as the wind.[248] A buckle of polished gold confined her vest, an ivory quiver hung on her left shoulder, and her left hand bore the bow. Her face blended feminine beauty with the graces of martial youth. Meleager saw and, with chivalric reverence, somewhat thus addressed her: For thy name's sake and awe toward thy chaste head, O holiest Atalanta! no man dares Praise thee, though fairer than whom all men praise, And godlike for thy grace of hallowed hair And holy habit of thine eyes, and feet That make the blown foam neither swift nor white, Though the wind winnow and whirl it; yet we praise Gods, found because of thee adorable And for thy sake praiseworthiest from all men: Thee therefore we praise also, thee as these, Pure, and a light lit at the hands of gods.[249] [Illustration: FIG. 134. MELEAGER ON THE BOAR HUNT] But there was no time then for love; on to the hunt they pushed. To the hunt went also Plexippus and Toxeus, brothers of Queen Althæa, braggarts, envious of Meleager. Speedily the hunters drew near the monster's lair. They stretched strong nets from tree to tree; they uncoupled their dogs; they sought the footprints of their quarry in the grass. From the wood was a descent to marshy ground. Here the boar, as he lay among the reeds, heard the shouts of his pursuers and rushed forth against them. One and another is thrown down and slain. Jason, Nestor, Telamon open the attack, but in vain. ... Then all abode save one, The Arcadian Atalanta: from her side Sprang her hounds, laboring at the leash, and slipped, And plashed ear-deep with plunging feet; but she Saying, "Speed it as I send it for thy sake, Goddess," drew bow and loosed; the sudden string Rang, and sprang inward, and the waterish air Hissed, and the moist plumes of the songless reeds Moved as a wave which the wind moves no more. But the boar heaved half out of ooze and slime, His tense flank trembling round the barbèd wound, Hateful; and fiery with invasive eyes, And bristling with intolerable hair, Plunged, and the hounds clung, and green flowers and white Reddened and broke all round them where they came.[1] It was a slight wound, but Meleager saw and joyfully proclaimed it. The attack was renewed. Peleus, Amphiaraüs, Theseus, Jason, hurled their lances. Ancæus was laid low by a mortal wound. But Meleager,-- Rock-rooted, fair with fierce and fastened lips, Clear eyes and springing muscle and shortening limb-- With chin aslant indrawn to a tightening throat, Grave, and with gathered sinews, like a god,-- Aimed on the left side his well-handled spear, Grasped where the ash was knottiest hewn, and smote, And with no missile wound, the monstrous boar Right in the hairiest hollow of his hide, Under the last rib, sheer through bulk and bone, Deep in; and deeply smitten, and to death, The heavy horror with his hanging shafts Leapt, and fell furiously, and from raging lips Foamed out the latest wrath of all his life.[250] Then rose a shout from those around; they glorified the conqueror,--crowded to touch his hand. But he, placing his foot upon the head of the slain boar, turned to Atalanta, and bestowed on her the head and the rough hide--trophies of his success. Thereat she laughed-- Lit with a low blush to the braided hair, And rose-colored and cold like very dawn, Golden and godlike, chastely with chaste lips, A faint grave laugh; and all they held their peace, And she passed by them. Then one cried, "Lo now, Shall not the Arcadian shoot out lips at us, Saying all we were despoiled by this one girl?" And all they rode against her violently And cast the fresh crown from her hair, and now They had rent her spoil away, dishonoring her, Save that Meleager, as a tame lion chafed, Bore on them, broke them, and as fire cleaves wood, So clove and drove them, smitten in twain; but she Smote not nor heaved up hand; and this man first, Plexippus, crying out, "This for love's sake, Sweet," Drove at Meleager, who with spear straightening Pierced his cheek through; then Toxeus made for him, Dumb, but his spear shake; vain and violent words, Fruitless; for him, too, stricken through both sides The earth felt falling.... ... And these being slain, None moved, nor spake.[251] Of this fearful sequel to the hunt, Althæa has heard nothing. As she bears thank offering to the temples for the victory of her son, the bodies of her murdered brothers meet her sight. She shrieks, and beats her breast, and hastens to change the garments of joy for those of mourning. But when the author of the deed is known, grief gives way to the stern desire of vengeance on her son. The fatal brand, which the Destinies have linked with Meleager's life, she brings forth. She commands a fire to be prepared. Four times she essays to place the brand upon the pile; four times draws back, shuddering before the destruction of her son. The feelings of the mother and the sister contend within her. Now she is pale at the thought of the purposed deed, now flushed again with anger at the violence of her offspring. Finally, the sister prevails over the mother:--turning away her face, she throws the fatal wood upon the burning pile. Meleager, absent and unconscious of the cause, feels a sudden pang. He burns; he calls upon those whom he loves, Atalanta and his mother. But speedily the brand is ashes, and the life of Meleager is breathed forth to the wandering winds. When at last the deed was done, the mother laid violent hands upon herself. [Illustration: FIG. 135. THE DEATH OF MELEAGER] =169. Merope.= A heroine connected by blood with Atalanta was Merope,[252] daughter of king Cypselus of Arcadia, and descended from Arcas, the son of Callisto and Jupiter. On account of her relationship to Atalanta her story may be told here, though she is not a member of the family of Ætolus. Her husband, Cresphontes the Heraclid, king of Messenia, had been slain with two of his sons by rebellious nobles; and one Polyphontes, leader of the revolt, reigned in his stead and took Merope to wife. But her third son by Cresphontes, Æpytus, had been concealed by her in Arcadia. Thence, in due season, he returned unknown to her, with the purpose of wreaking vengeance on the murderers of his sire. He pretended to have slain Æpytus, and so as a stranger won the favor of Polyphontes, but came near losing his life at his mother's hands. A recognition being happily effected, Æpytus, aided by his mother, put Polyphontes to death and took possession of the kingdom. This story has been frequently dramatized, first by Euripides in a lost play called Cresphontes, and most recently by Matthew Arnold, whose Merope is a masterpiece of classical invention and of poetic execution. =170. Castor and Pollux.= Leda, the sister of Althæa and aunt of Meleager, bore to Tyndareus, king of Sparta, Castor and Clytemnestra. To Jove she bore Pollux and Helen. Pollux and Castor--one, the son of a god and immortal, the other, of mortal breed and destiny--are famous for their fraternal affection. Endowed with various manly virtues,--Castor a horse-tamer, Pollux a boxer,--they made all expeditions in common. Together they joined the Calydonian hunt. Together they accompanied the Argonauts. During the voyage to Colchis it is said that, a storm arising, Orpheus prayed to the Samothracian gods and played on his harp, and that when the storm ceased, stars appeared on the heads of the brothers. Hence they came to be honored as patrons of voyagers. They rendered, indeed, noteworthy service to the Argonauts returning from Colchis with Medea and the Golden Fleece. For when the voyagers attempted a landing at Crete they were confronted by the gigantic warder of the island. This was Talus, a form of living brass, fashioned by Hephæstus (Vulcan) and presented to King Minos, about whose Cretan domain he made his rounds three times a day. Ordinarily when Talus saw voyagers nearing the coast he fired himself red-hot and embraced them as they landed. For some reason he did not welcome the Argonauts in this warm fashion, but Whirling with resistless sway Rocks sheer uprent, repels them from the bay.[1] Medea, objecting to the volley of stones, resorts to necromantic spells: Thrice she applies the power of magic prayer, Thrice, hellward bending, mutters charms in air; Then, turning toward the foe, bids Mischief fly, And looks Destruction as she points her eye.[253] Maddened, as might be surmised, by so insidious and unaccustomed a form of attack, the Man of Brass "tears up whole hills to crush his foes"; then fleeing in sudden panic, he is overcome by the stupor of the enchantment and taken captive by Castor and Pollux. He had in his body only one vein, and that plugged on the crown of his head with a nail. Medea drew out the stopper. At a later period when Theseus and his friend Pirithoüs had carried off Helen from Sparta, the youthful heroes, Castor and Pollux, with their followers hasted to the rescue. Theseus being absent from Attica, the brothers recovered their sister. Later still, we find Castor and Pollux engaged in a combat with Idas and Lynceus of Messene, some say over the daughters of Leucippus, others, over a herd of oxen. Castor was slain; but Pollux, inconsolable for the loss of his brother, besought Jupiter to be permitted to give his own life as a ransom for him. Jupiter so far consented as to allow the two brothers to enjoy the boon of life alternately, each spending one day under the earth and the next in the heavenly abodes. According to another version, Jupiter rewarded the attachment of the brothers by placing them among the stars as Gemini, the Twins. They received heroic honors as the _Tyndaridæ_ (sons of Tyndareus); divine honors they received under the name of _Dioscuri_ (sons of Jove).[254] =171. The Twin Brethren among the Romans.= In Rome they were honored with a temple in the Forum and made the patrons of knighthood because of the assistance they rendered in the battle of Lake Regillus. In the moment of dire distress they had appeared, a princely pair: So like they were, no mortal Might one from other know; White as snow their armor was, Their steeds were white as snow. Never on earthly anvil Did such rare armor gleam, And never did such gallant steeds Drink of an earthly stream. And all who saw them trembled, And pale grew every cheek; And Aulus the Dictator Scarce gathered voice to speak: "Say by what name men call you? What city is your home? And wherefore ride ye in such guise Before the ranks of Rome?" [Illustration: FIG. 136. CASTOR AND POLLUX CAPTURING THE GIANT TALUS (Left portion)] "By many names," they answered,-- "By many names men call us; In many lands we dwell: Well Samothracia knows us; Cyrene knows us well; Our house in gay Tarentum Is hung each morn with flowers; High o'er the masts of Syracuse Our marble portal towers; But by the brave Eurotas Is our dear native home; And for the right we come to fight Before the ranks of Rome." After the battle was won they were the first to bear the tidings to the city. With joy the people acclaimed them,-- But on rode these strange horsemen, With slow and lordly pace; And none who saw their bearing Durst ask their name or race. On rode they to the Forum, While laurel boughs and flowers, From housetops and from windows, Fell on their crests in showers. When they drew nigh to Vesta, They vaulted down amain, And washed their horses in the well That springs by Vesta's fane. And straight again they mounted, And rode to Vesta's door; Then, like a blast, away they passed, And no man saw them more.... And Sergius the High Pontiff Alone found voice to speak: "The gods who live forever Have fought for Rome to-day! These be the Great Twin Brethren To whom the Dorians pray. Back comes the chief in triumph Who, in the hour of fight, Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren In harness on his right. Safe comes the ship to haven, Through billows and through gales If once the Great Twin Brethren Sit shining on the sails.... Here, hard by Vesta's temple, Build we a stately dome Unto the Great Twin Brethren Who fought so well for Rome!"[255] [Illustration: FIG. 137. CASTOR AND POLLUX CAPTURING THE GIANT TALUS (Right portion)] For many a year the procession, in which the knights, olive-wreathed and purple-robed, marched in honor of the Twin Brethren, continued to be held; and still there stand three columns of their temple above the pool of Juturna and Vesta's ruined shrine. FOOTNOTES: [244] Ovid, Metam. 8, 260-546. [245] § 170. [246] § 180. [247] Chapter XXI. [248] From Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon. [249] From Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon. [250] From Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon. [251] From Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon. [252] Hyginus, Fab. 184; Apollodorus, 2, 8; Pausanias, 2, 18; 4, 3, etc.; Aristotle, Poetics, 14, 9. [253] Apollonius Rhodius, 4, 1629 (Broome's translation). See also Apollodorus, 1; 9, 26. [254] Hyginus, Fab. 80; Ovid, Fasti, 100. Theocritus, Idyl XXII, gives a different version. [255] Macaulay, Lays of Ancient Rome, The Battle of Lake Regillus. CHAPTER XVII THE HOUSE OF MINOS =172. Minos of Crete= was a descendant of Inachus in the sixth generation. A son of Jupiter and Europa, he was, after death, transferred, with his brother Rhadamanthus and with King Æacus, to Hades, where the three became judges of the Shades. This is the Minos mentioned by Homer and Hesiod,--the eminent lawgiver. Of his grandson, Minos II, it is related that when aiming at the crown of Crete, he boasted of his power to obtain by prayer whatever he desired, and as a test, he implored Neptune to send him a bull for sacrifice. The bull appeared, but Minos, astonished at its great beauty, declined to sacrifice the brute. Neptune, therefore incensed, drove the bull wild,--worse still, drove Pasiphaë, the wife of Minos, wild with love of it. The wonderful brute was finally caught and overcome by Hercules, who rode it through the waves to Greece. But its offspring, the Minotaur, a monster bull-headed and man-bodied, remained for many a day a terror to Crete, till finally a famous artificer, Dædalus, constructed for him a labyrinth, with passages and turnings winding in and about like the river Mæander, so that whoever was inclosed in it might by no means find his way out. The Minotaur, roaming therein, lived upon human victims. For it is said that, after Minos had subdued Megara,[256] a tribute of seven youths and seven maidens was sent every year from Athens to Crete to feed this monster; and it was not until the days of Theseus of Athens that an end was put to both tribute and Minotaur.[257] =173. Dædalus and Icarus.=[258] Dædalus, who abetted the love of Pasiphaë for the Cretan bull, afterwards lost the favor of Minos and was imprisoned by him. Seeing no other way of escape, the artificer made, out of feathers, wings for his son Icarus and himself, which he fastened on with wax. Then poising themselves in the air, they flew away. Icarus had been warned not to approach too near the sun, and all went well till they had passed Samos and Delos on the left and Lebynthos on the right. But then the boy, exulting in his career, soared upward. The blaze of the torrid sun softened the waxen fastening of his wings. Off they came, and down the lad dropped into the sea which after him is named Icarian, even to this day. [Illustration: FIG. 138. DÆDALUS AND ICARUS] ... With melting wax and loosened strings Sunk hapless Icarus on unfaithful wings; Headlong he rushed through the affrighted air, With limbs distorted and disheveled hair; His scattered plumage danced upon the wave, And sorrowing Nereïds decked his watery grave; O'er his pale corse their pearly sea flowers shed, And strewed with crimson moss his marble bed; Struck in their coral towers the passing bell, And wide in ocean tolled his echoing knell.[259] The story, save for its tragic conclusion, reads like a remarkable anticipation of the exploits of the Wright brothers, Blériot, and Latham with the aëroplane to-day, or of Count Zeppelin with his airships. Dædalus, mourning his son, arrived finally in Sicily where, being kindly received by King Cocalus, he built a temple to Apollo and hung up his wings, an offering to the god. But Minos, having learned of the hiding place of the artificer, followed him to Sicily with a great fleet; and Dædalus would surely have perished, had not one of the daughters of Cocalus disposed of Minos by scalding him to death while he was bathing. It is said that Dædalus could not bear the idea of a rival. His sister had placed her son Perdix under his charge to be taught the mechanical arts. He was an apt scholar and gave striking evidences of ingenuity. Walking on the seashore, he picked up the spine of a fish, and, imitating it in iron, invented the saw. He invented, also, a pair of compasses. But Dædalus, envious of his nephew, pushed him off a tower and killed him. Minerva, however, in pity of the boy, changed him into a bird, the partridge, which bears his name. To the descendants of Inachus we shall again return in the account of the house of Labdacus. FOOTNOTES: [256] § 143. [257] § 177. Apollodorus, 3, 1, § 3; 15, § 8; Pausanias, 1, 27, § 9, etc.; Ovid, Metam. 7, 456. [258] Virgil, Æneid, 6, 14-36; Ovid, Metam. 8, 152-259; Hyginus, Fab. 40, 44. [259] Erasmus Darwin. CHAPTER XVIII THE HOUSE OF CECROPS AND ERICHTHONIUS [Illustration: FIG. 139. THESEUS] =174. From Cecrops[260] to Philomela.= Cecrops, half-snake, half-man, came from Crete or Egypt into Attica, founded Athens, and chose Minerva rather than Neptune as its guardian. His successor was Erichthonius,[261] or Erechtheus, a snake-formed genius of the fertile soil of Attica. This Erichthonius[262] was a special ward of the goddess Minerva, who brought him up in her temple. His son Pandion had two daughters, Procne and Philomela, of whom he gave the former in marriage to Tereus, king of Thrace (or of Daulis in Phocis). This ruler, after his wife had borne him a son Itys (or Itylus), wearied of her, plucked out her tongue by the roots to insure her silence, and, pretending that she was dead, took in marriage the other sister, Philomela. Procne by means of a web, into which she wove her story, informed Philomela of the horrible truth. In revenge upon Tereus, the sisters killed Itylus and served up the child as food to the father; but the gods, in indignation, transformed Procne into a swallow, Philomela into a nightingale, forever bemoaning the murdered Itylus, and Tereus into a hawk, forever pursuing the sisters.[263] =175. Matthew Arnold's Philomela.= Hark! ah, the nightingale-- The tawny-throated! Hark, from that moonlit cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark!--what pain! O wanderer from a Grecian shore, Still, after many years in distant lands, Still nourishing in thy bewilder'd brain That wild, unquench'd, deep-sunken, old-world pain-- Say, will it never heal? And can this fragrant lawn With its cool trees, and night, And the sweet, tranquil Thames, And moonshine, and the dew, To thy rack'd heart and brain Afford no calm? Dost thou to-night behold, Here, through the moonlight on this English grass, The unfriendly palace in the Thracian wild? Dost thou again peruse, With hot cheeks and sear'd eyes, The too clear web, and thy dumb sister's shame? Dost thou once more assay Thy flight, and feel come over thee, Poor fugitive, the feathery change Once more, and once more seem to make resound With love and hate, triumph and agony, Lone Daulis, and the high Cephissian vale? Listen, Eugenia-- How thick the bursts come crowding through the leaves! Again--thou hearest? Eternal passion! Eternal pain! According to another version of this story, it was Philomela who was robbed of her tongue and who wove the web by means of which the queen Procne learned the truth. =176. Theseus.=[264] A descendant of Erechtheus, or of Cecrops, was Ægeus, king of Athens. By Æthra, granddaughter of Pelops, he became the father of the Attic hero, Theseus. Ægeus, on parting from Æthra, before the birth of the child, had placed his sword and shoes under a large stone and had directed her to send the child to him if it should prove strong enough to roll away the stone and take what was under. The lad Theseus was brought up at Tr[oe]zen, of which Pittheus, Æthra's father, was king. When Æthra thought the time had come, she led Theseus to the stone. He removed it with ease and took the sword and shoes. Since at that time the roads were infested with robbers, his grandfather Pittheus pressed him earnestly to take the shorter and safer way to his father's country, by sea; but the youth, feeling in himself the spirit and soul of a hero and eager to signalize himself like Hercules, determined on the more perilous and adventurous journey by land. [Illustration: FIG. 140. ÆTHRA AND THESEUS] His first day's journey brought him to Epidaurus, where dwelt Periphetes, a son of Vulcan. This ferocious savage always went armed with a club of iron, and all travelers stood in terror of his violence; but beneath the blows of the young hero he speedily fell. Several similar contests with the petty tyrants and marauders of the country followed, in all of which Theseus was victorious. Most important was his slaughter of Procrustes, or the Stretcher. This giant had an iron bedstead on which he used to tie all travelers who fell into his hands. If they were shorter than the bed, he stretched them till they fitted it; if they were longer than the bed, he lopped off their limbs. In the course of time Theseus reached Athens, but here new dangers awaited him. For Medea, the sorceress, who had fled from Corinth after her separation from Jason,[265] had become the wife of Ægeus. Knowing by her arts who the stranger was, and fearing the loss of her influence with her husband if Theseus should be acknowledged as his son, she tried to poison the youth; but the sword which he wore discovered him to his father and prevented the fatal draft. Medea fled to Asia, where the country afterwards called Media is said to have received its name from her. Theseus was acknowledged by his sire and declared successor to the throne. [Illustration: FIG. 141. THESEUS AND THE MINOTAUR] =177. Theseus and= =Ariadne.=[266] Now the Athenians were at that time in deep affliction on account of the tribute of youths and maidens which they were forced to send to the Minotaur, dwelling in the labyrinth of Crete,--a penalty said to have been imposed by Minos upon the Athenians because Ægeus had sent Androgeüs, the son of Minos, against the Marathonian bull and so had brought about the young man's death. From this calamity Theseus resolved to deliver his countrymen or to die in the attempt. He, therefore, in spite of the entreaties of his father, presented himself as champion of Athens and of her fair sons and daughters, to do battle against the Minotaur, and departed with the victims in a vessel bearing black sails, which he promised his father to change for white in the event of his returning victorious. So,-- Rather than cargo on cargo of corpses undead should be wafted[267] Over the ravening sea to the pitiless monster of Creta,-- Leaving the curvèd strand Piræan, and wooing the breezes, Theseus furrowed the deep to the dome superb of the tyrant. Then as the maid Ariadne beheld him with glances of longing,-- Princess royal of Creta Minoan, tender, sequestered,-- Locked in a mother's embrace, in seclusion virginal, fragrant, Like some myrtle set by streaming ways of Eurotas, Like to the varied tints that Spring invites with her breezes,-- Then, as with eager gaze she looked her first upon Theseus, Never a whit she lowered her eyes nor ceased to consume him, Ere to the core profound her breast with love was enkindled. --God-born boy, thou pitiless heart, provoker of madness, Mischievous, mingling care with the fleeting pleasure of mortals,-- Goddess of Golgi, thou, frequenter of coverts Idalian, In what wildering seas ye tossed the impassionate maiden Ever a-sighing,--aye for the fair-haired stranger a-sighing! Ah, what ponderous fears oppressed her languishing bosom, How, more pallid than gold her countenance flashed into whiteness, What time Theseus marched unto death or to glory undying, Manful, minded to quell the imbruted might of the monster! Not unaided, however, did he undertake the task; for Ariadne, apprehensive lest he might lose his way in the dædalian labyrinth, furnished him with a thread, the gift of Vulcan, which, unrolled by Theseus as he entered the maze, should enable him on his return to retrace his former path. Meanwhile-- Offering artless bribes, Ariadne invoked the Immortals, Kindled voiceless lip with unvoicèd tribute of incense, Suppliant, not in vain: for, like to an oak upon Taurus, Gnarlèd, swinging his arms,--like some cone-burthenèd pine tree Oozing the life from his bark, that, riven to heart by the whirlwind, Wholly uprooted from earth, falls prone with extravagant ruin, Perishes, dealing doom with precipitate rush of its branches,-- So was the Cretan brute by Theseus done to destruction, E'en so, tossing in vain his horns to the vacuous breezes. Then with abundant laud he turned, unscathed from the combat, Theseus,--guiding his feet unsure by the filament slender, Lest as he threaded paths circuitous, ways labyrinthine, Some perverse, perplexing, erratic alley might foil him. Why should I tarry to tell how, quitting her sire, Ariadne Quitting the sister's arms, the infatuate gaze of the mother,-- She whose sole delight, whose life, was her desperate daughter,-- How Ariadne made less of the love of them all than of Theseus? Why should I sing how sailing they came to the beaches of Dia,-- White with the foam,--how thence, false-hearted, the lover departing Left her benighted with sleep, the Minoïd, princess of Creta? [Illustration: FIG. 142. THE SLEEPING ARIADNE] Gazing amain from the marge of the flood-reverberant Dia, Chafing with ire, indignant, exasperate,--lo, Ariadne, Lorn Ariadne, beholds swift craft, swift lover retreating. Nor can be sure she sees what things she sees of a surety, When upspringing from sleep, she shakes off treacherous slumber, Lone beholds herself on a shore forlorn of the ocean. Carelessly hastens the youth, meantime, who, driving his oar-blades Hard in the waves, consigns void vows to the blustering breezes. But as, afar from the sedge, with sad eyes still the Minoïd Mute as a Mænad in stone unmoving stonily gazes-- Heart o'erwhelmed with woe--ah, thus, while thus she is gazing,-- Down from her yellow hair slips, sudden, the weed of the fine-spun Snood, and the vesture light of her mantle down from the shoulders Slips, and the twisted scarf encircling her womanly bosom; Stealthily gliding, slip they downward into the billow, Fall, and are tossed by the buoyant flood at the feet of the fair one. Nothing she recks of the coif, of the floating garment as little, Cares not a moment then, whose care hangs only on Theseus,-- Wretched of heart, soul-wrecked, dependent only on Theseus,-- Desperate, woe-unselfed with a cureless sorrow incessant, Frantic, bosoming torture of thorns Erycina had planted.... Then, they say, that at last, infuriate out of all measure, Once and again she poured shrill-voicèd shrieks from her bosom; Helpless, clambered steeps, sheer beetling over the surges, Whence to enrange with her eyes vast futile regions of ocean;-- Lifting the folds, soft folds of her garments, baring her ankles, Dashed into edges of upward waves that trembled before her; Uttered, anguished then, one wail, her maddest and saddest,-- Catching with tear-wet lips poor sobs that shivering choked her:-- "Thus is it far from my home, O traitor, and far from its altars-- Thus on a desert strand,--dost leave me, treacherous Theseus? Thus is it thou dost flout our vow, dost flout the Immortals,-- Carelessly homeward bearest, with baleful ballast of curses? Never, could never a plea forfend thy cruelly minded Counsel? Never a pity entreat thy bosom for shelter?... Hence, let never a maid confide in the oath of a lover, Never presume man's vows hold aught trustworthy within them! Verily, while in anguish of heart his spirit is longing, Nothing he spares to assever, nor aught makes scruple to promise: But, an his dearest desire, his nearest of heart be accorded-- Nothing he recks of affiance, and reckons perjury,--nothing. "Oh! what lioness whelped thee? Oh! what desolate cavern? What was the sea that spawned, that spat from its churning abysses, Thee,--what wolfish Scylla, or Syrtis, or vasty Charybdis, Thee,--thus thankful for life, dear gift of living, I gave thee?... Had it not liked thee still to acknowledge vows that we plighted, Mightest thou homeward, yet, have borne me a damsel beholden, Fain to obey thy will, and to lave thy feet like a servant, Fain to bedeck thy couch with purple coverlet for thee. "But to the hollow winds why stand repeating my quarrel,-- I, for sorrow unselfed,--they, but breezes insensate,-- Potent neither voices to hear nor words to re-echo?... Yea, but where shall I turn? Forlorn, what succor rely on? 'Haste to the Gnossian hills?' Ah, see how distantly surging Deeps forbid, distending their gulfs abhorrent before me! 'Comfort my heart, mayhap, with the loyal love of my husband?' Lo, the reluctant oar, e'en now, he plies to forsake me!-- Nought but the homeless strand of an isle remote of the ocean! No, no way of escape, where the circling sea without shore is,-- No, no counsel of flight, no hope, no sound of a mortal; All things desolate, dumb, yea, all things summoning deathward! Yet mine eyes shall not fade in death that sealeth the eyelids, Nor from the frame outworn shall fare my lingering senses, Ere, undone, from powers divine I claim retribution-- Ere I call--in the hour supreme, on the faith of Immortals! "Come, then, Righters of Wrong, O vengeful dealers of justice, Braided with coil of the serpents, O Eumenides, ye of Brows that blazon ire exhaling aye from the bosom, Haste, oh, haste ye, hither and hear me, vehement plaining, Destitute, fired with rage, stark-blind, demented for fury!-- As with careless heart yon Theseus sailed and forgot me, So with folly of heart, may he slay himself and his household!" ... Then with a nod supreme Olympian Jupiter nodded: Quaked thereat old Earth,--quaked, shuddered the terrified waters, Ay, and the constellations in Heaven that glitter were jangled. Straightway like some cloud on the inward vision of Theseus Dropped oblivion down, enshrouding vows he had cherished, Hiding away all trace of the solemn behest of his father. [Illustration: FIG. 143. HEAD OF DIONYSUS] For, as was said before, Ægeus, on the departure of his son for Creta, had given him this command: "If Minerva, goddess of our city, grant thee victory over the Minotaur, hoist on thy return, when first the dear hills of Attica greet thy vision, white canvas to herald thy joy and mine, that mine eyes may see the propitious sign and know the glad day that restores thee safe to me." ... Even as clouds compelled by urgent push of the breezes Float from the brow uplift of a snow-envelopèd mountain, So from Theseus passed all prayer and behest of his father. Waited the sire meanwhile, looked out from his tower over ocean, Wasted his anxious eyes in futile labor of weeping, Waited expectant,--saw to the southward sails black-bellied-- Hurled him headlong down from the horrid steep to destruction,-- Weening hateful Fate had severed the fortune of Theseus. Theseus, then, as he paced that gloom of the home of his father, Insolent Theseus knew himself what manner of evil He with a careless heart had aforetime dealt Ariadne,-- Fixed Ariadne that still, still stared where the ship had receded,-- Wounded, revolving in heart her countless muster of sorrows. [Illustration: FIG. 144. THE REVELS OF BACCHUS AND ARIADNE] =178. Bacchus and Ariadne.= But for the deserted daughter of Minos a happier fate was yet reserved. This island, on which she had been abandoned, was Naxos, loved and especially haunted by Bacchus, where with his train of reeling devotees he was wont to hold high carnival. ... Sweeping over the shore, lo, beautiful, blooming Iacchus,-- Chorused of Satyrs in dance and of Nysian-born Sileni,-- Seeking fair Ariadne,--afire with flame of a lover! Lightly around him leaped Bacchantès, strenuous, frenzied, Nodding their heads, "Euhoe!" to the cry, "Euhoe, O Bacchus!" Some--enwreathèd spears of Iacchus madly were waving; Some--ensanguined limbs of the bullock, quivering, brandished; Some--were twining themselves with sinuous snakes that twisted; Some--with vessels of signs mysterious, passed in procession-- Symbols profound that in vain the profane may seek to decipher; Certain struck with the palms--with tapered fingers on timbrels, Others the tenuous clash of the rounded cymbals awakened;-- Brayed with a raucous roar through the turmoil many a trumpet, Many a stridulous fife went, shrill, barbarian, shrieking.[268] So the grieving, much-wronged Ariadne was consoled for the loss of her mortal spouse by an immortal lover. The blooming god of the vine wooed and won her. After her death, the golden crown that he had given her was transferred by him to the heavens. As it mounted the ethereal spaces, its gems, growing in brightness, became stars; and still it remains fixed, as a constellation, between the kneeling Hercules and the man that holds the serpent. =179. The Amazons.= As king of Athens, it is said that Theseus undertook an expedition against the Amazons. Assailing them before they had recovered from the attack of Hercules, he carried off their queen Antiope; but they in turn, invading the country of Athens, penetrated into the city itself; and there was fought the final battle in which Theseus overcame them. =180. Theseus and Pirithoüs.= A famous friendship between Theseus and Pirithoüs of Thessaly, son of Jupiter, originated in the midst of arms. Pirithoüs had made an irruption into the plain of Marathon and had carried off the herds of the king of Athens. Theseus went to repel the plunderers. The moment the Thessalian beheld him, he was seized with admiration, and stretching out his hand as a token of peace, he cried, "Be judge thyself,--what satisfaction dost thou require?"--"Thy friendship," replied the Athenian; and they swore inviolable fidelity. Their deeds corresponding to their professions, they continued true brothers in arms. When, accordingly, Pirithoüs was to marry Hippodamia, daughter of Atrax, Theseus took his friend's part in the battle that ensued between the Lapithæ (of whom Pirithoüs was king) and the Centaurs. For it happened that at the marriage feast, the Centaurs were among the guests; and one of them, Eurytion, becoming intoxicated, attempted to offer violence to the bride. Other Centaurs followed his example; combat was joined; Theseus leaped into the fray, and not a few of the guests bit the dust. [Illustration: FIG. 145. LAPITH AND CENTAUR] Later, each of these friends aspired to espouse a daughter of Jupiter. Theseus fixed his choice on Leda's daughter Helen, then a child, but afterwards famous as the cause of the Trojan War; and with the aid of his friend he carried her off, only, however, to restore her at very short notice. As for Pirithoüs, he aspired to the wife of the monarch of Erebus; and Theseus, though aware of the danger, accompanied the ambitious lover to the underworld. But Pluto seized and set them on an enchanted rock at his palace gate, where fixed they remained till Hercules, arriving, liberated Theseus but left Pirithoüs to his fate. =181. Phædra and Hippolytus.= After the death of Antiope, Theseus married Phædra, sister of the deserted Ariadne, daughter of Minos. But Phædra, seeing in Hippolytus, the son of Theseus, a youth endowed with all the graces and virtues of his father and of an age corresponding to her own, loved him. When, however, he repulsed her advances, her love was changed to despair and hate. Hanging herself, she left for her husband a scroll containing false charges against Hippolytus. The infatuated husband, filled, therefore, with jealousy of his son, imprecated the vengeance of Neptune upon him. As Hippolytus one day drove his chariot along the shore, a sea monster raised himself above the waters and frightened the horses so that they ran away and dashed the chariot to pieces. Hippolytus was killed, but by Æsculapius was restored to life, and then, removed by Diana from the power of his deluded father, was placed in Italy under the protection of the nymph Egeria. In his old age, Theseus, losing the favor of his people, retired to the court of Lycomedes, king of Scyros, who at first received him kindly, but afterwards treacherously put him to death. FOOTNOTES: [260] Ovid, Metam. 2, 555; Apollodorus, 3, 14, § 1; Pausanias; and Hyginus, Fab. 48. [261] Ovid, Metam. 2, 554; 6, 676; Homer, Iliad, 2, 547; Odyssey, 7, 81; Hyginus, Poet. Astr. 2, 13. [262] For Ruskin's interpretation, see Queen of the Air, § 38. [263] Hyginus, Fab. 45; Apollodorus, 3, 14, § 8; Ovid, Metam. 6, 412-676. See Commentary. [264] Ovid, Metam. 7, 350-424; Plutarch, Theseus. [265] § 167. [266] Odyssey, 11, 321; Plutarch, Theseus; Catullus, LXIV. [267] Catullus, LXIV. From The Wedding of Peleus and Thetis. A Translation in Hexameters, by Charles Mills Gayley. [268] Catullus, LXIV (Charles Mills Gayley's translation). CHAPTER XIX THE HOUSE OF LABDACUS [Illustration: FIG. 146. [OE]DIPUS AND THE SPHINX] =182. The Misfortunes of Thebes.= Returning to the descendants of Inachus, we find that the curse which fell upon Cadmus when he slew the dragon of Mars followed nearly every scion of his house. His daughters, Semele, Ino, Autonoë, Agave,--his grandsons, Melicertes, Actæon, Pentheus,--lived sorrowful lives or suffered violent deaths. The misfortunes of one branch of his family, sprung from his son Polydorus, remain to be told. The curse seems to have spared Polydorus himself. His son Labdacus, also, lived a quiet life as king of Thebes and left a son, Laïus, upon the throne. But erelong Laïus was warned by an oracle that there was danger to his throne and life if his son, new-born, should reach man's estate. He, therefore, committed the child to a herdsman with orders for its destruction; but the herdsman, moved with pity yet not daring entirely to disobey, pierced the child's feet, purposing to expose him to the elements on Mount Cithæron. =183. [OE]dipus and the Sphinx.=[269] In this plight the infant was given to a tender-hearted fellow-shepherd, who carried him to King Polybus of Corinth and his queen, by whom he was adopted and called [OE]dipus, or Swollen-foot. Many years afterward, [OE]dipus, learning from an oracle that he was destined to be the death of his father, left the realm of his reputed sire, Polybus. It happened, however, that Laïus was then driving to Delphi, accompanied only by one attendant. In a narrow road he met [OE]dipus, also in a chariot. On the refusal of the youthful stranger to leave the way at their command, the attendant killed one of his horses. [OE]dipus, consumed with rage, slew both Laïus and the attendant, and thus unknowingly fulfilled both oracles. Shortly after this event, the city of Thebes, to which [OE]dipus had repaired, was afflicted with a monster that infested the high-road. She was called the Sphinx. She had the body of a lion and the upper part of a woman. She lay crouched on the top of a rock and, arresting all travelers who came that way, propounded to them a riddle, with the condition that those who could solve it should pass safe, but those who failed should be killed. Not one had yet succeeded in guessing it. [OE]dipus, not daunted by these alarming accounts, boldly advanced to the trial. The Sphinx asked him, "What animal is it that in the morning goes on four feet, at noon on two, and in the evening upon three?" [OE]dipus replied, "Man, who in childhood creeps on hands and knees, in manhood walks erect, and in old age goes with the aid of a staff." The Sphinx, mortified at the collapse of her riddle, cast herself down from the rock and perished. =184. [OE]dipus, the King.= In gratitude for their deliverance, the Thebans made [OE]dipus their king, giving him in marriage their queen, Jocasta. He, ignorant of his parentage, had already become the slayer of his father; in marrying the queen he became the husband of his mother. These horrors remained undiscovered till, after many years, Thebes being afflicted with famine and pestilence, the oracle was consulted, and, by a series of coincidences, the double crime of [OE]dipus came to light. At once, Jocasta put an end to her life by hanging herself. As for [OE]dipus, horror-struck,-- When her form He saw, poor wretch! with one wild fearful cry, The twisted rope he loosens, and she fell, Ill-starred one, on the ground. Then came a sight Most fearful. Tearing from her robe the clasps, All chased with gold, with which she decked herself, He with them struck the pupils of his eyes, With words like these: "Because they had not seen What ills he suffered, and what ills he did, They in the dark should look, in time to come, On those whom they ought never to have seen, Nor know the dear ones whom he fain had known." With suchlike wails, not once or twice alone, Raising his eyes he smote them, and the balls, All bleeding, stained his cheek.[270] =185. [OE]dipus at Colonus.= After these sad events [OE]dipus would have left Thebes, but the oracle forbade the people to let him go. Jocasta's brother, Creon, was made regent of the realm for the two sons of [OE]dipus. But after [OE]dipus had grown content to stay, these sons of his, with Creon, thrust him into exile. Accompanied by his daughter Antigone, he went begging through the land. His other daughter, Ismene, at first stayed at home. Cursing the sons who had abandoned him, but bowing his own will in submission to the ways of God, [OE]dipus approached the hour of his death in Colonus, a village near Athens. His friend Theseus, king of Athens, comforted and sustained him to the last. Both his daughters were also with him: And then he called his girls, and bade them fetch Clear water from the stream, and bring to him For cleansing and libation. And they went, Both of them, to yon hill we look upon, Owned by Demeter of the fair green corn, And quickly did his bidding, bathed his limbs, And clothed them in the garment that is meet. And when he had his will in all they did, And not one wish continued unfulfilled, Zeus from the dark depths thundered, and the girls Heard it, and shuddering, at their father's knees, Falling they wept; nor did they then forbear Smiting their breasts, nor groanings lengthened out; And when he heard their bitter cry, forthwith Folding his arms around them, thus he spake: "My children, on this day ye cease to have A father. All my days are spent and gone; And ye no more shall lead your wretched life, Caring for me. Hard was it, that I know, My children! Yet one word is strong to loose, Although alone, the burden of these toils, For _love_ in larger store ye could not have From any than from him who standeth here, Of whom bereaved ye now shall live your life."[271] There was sobbing, then silence. Then a voice called him,--and he followed. God took him from his troubles. Antigone returned to Thebes,--where, as we shall see, her sisterly fidelity showed itself as true as, aforetime, her filial affection. Her brothers, Eteocles and Polynices, had meanwhile agreed to share the kingdom between them and to reign alternately year by year. The first year fell to the lot of Eteocles, who, when his time expired, refused to surrender the kingdom to his brother. Polynices, accordingly, fled to Adrastus, king of Argos, who gave him his daughter in marriage and aided him with an army to enforce his claim to the kingdom. These causes led to the celebrated expedition of the "Seven against Thebes," which furnished ample materials for the epic and tragic poets of Greece. And here the younger heroes of Greece make their appearance. FOOTNOTES: [269] Sophocles, [OE]dipus Rex, [OE]dipus Coloneus, Antigone; Euripides, Ph[oe]nissæ; Apollodorus, 3, 5, §§ 7, 8. [270] Sophocles, [OE]dipus, the King (E. H. Plumptre's translation). [271] Sophocles, [OE]dipus at Colonus, ll. 1600, etc. (E. H. Plumptre's translation). CHAPTER XX MYTHS OF THE YOUNGER HEROES: THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES =186. Their Exploits.= The exploits of the sons and grandsons of the chieftains engaged in the Calydonian Hunt and the Quest of the Golden Fleece are narrated in four stories,--the Seven against Thebes, the Siege of Troy, the Wanderings of Ulysses, and the Adventures of Æneas. =187. The Seven against Thebes.=[272] The allies of Adrastus and Polynices in the enterprise against Thebes were Tydeus of Calydon, half brother of Meleager, Parthenopæus of Arcadia, son of Atalanta and Mars, Capaneus of Argos, Hippomedon of Argos, and Amphiaraüs, the brother-in-law of Adrastus. Amphiaraüs opposed the expedition for, being a soothsayer, he knew that none of the leaders except Adrastus would live to return from Thebes; but on his marriage to Eriphyle, the king's sister, he had agreed that whenever he and Adrastus should differ in opinion, the decision should be left to Eriphyle. Polynices, knowing this, gave Eriphyle the necklace of Harmonia and thereby gained her to his interest. This was the selfsame necklace that Vulcan had given to Harmonia on her marriage with Cadmus; Polynices had taken it with him on his flight from Thebes. It seems to have been still fraught with the curse of the house of Cadmus. But Eriphyle could not resist so tempting a bribe. By her decision the war was resolved on, and Amphiaraüs went to his fate. He bore his part bravely in the contest, but still could not avert his destiny. While, pursued by the enemy, he was fleeing along the river, a thunderbolt launched by Jupiter opened the ground, and he, his chariot, and his charioteer were swallowed up. It is unnecessary here to detail all the acts of heroism or atrocity which marked this contest. The fidelity, however, of Evadne stands out as an offset to the weakness of Eriphyle. Her husband, Capaneus, having in the ardor of the fight declared that he would force his way into the city in spite of Jove himself, placed a ladder against the wall and mounted; but Jupiter, offended at his impious language, struck him with a thunderbolt. When his obsequies were celebrated, Evadne cast herself on his funeral pile and perished. [Illustration: FIG. 147. ETEOCLES AND POLYNICES KILL EACH OTHER] It seems that early in the contest Eteocles consulted the soothsayer Tiresias as to the issue. Now, this Tiresias in his youth had by chance seen Minerva bathing, and had been deprived by her of his sight, but afterwards had obtained of her the knowledge of future events. When consulted by Eteocles, he declared that victory should fall to Thebes if Men[oe]ceus, the son of Creon, gave himself a voluntary victim. The heroic youth, learning the response, threw away his life in the first encounter. The siege continued long, with varying success. At length both hosts agreed that the brothers should decide their quarrel by single combat. They fought, and fell each by the hand of the other. The armies then renewed the fight; and at last the invaders were forced to yield, and fled, leaving their dead unburied. Creon, the uncle of the fallen princes, now became king, caused Eteocles to be buried with distinguished honor, but suffered the body of Polynices to lie where it fell, forbidding any one, on pain of death, to give it burial. =188. Antigone=,[273] the sister of Polynices, heard with indignation the revolting edict which, consigning her brother's body to the dogs and vultures, deprived it of the rites that were considered essential to the repose of the dead. Unmoved by the dissuading counsel of her affectionate but timid sister, and unable to procure assistance, she determined to brave the hazard and to bury the body with her own hands. She was detected in the act. When Creon asked the fearless woman whether she dared disobey the laws, she answered: Yes, for it was not Zeus who gave them forth, Nor justice, dwelling with the gods below, Who traced these laws for all the sons of men; Nor did I deem thy edicts strong enough, That thou, a mortal man, should'st overpass The unwritten laws of God that know no change. They are not of to-day nor yesterday, But live forever, nor can man assign When first they sprang to being. Not through fear Of any man's resolve was I prepared Before the gods to bear the penalty Of sinning against these. That I should die I knew (how should I not?), though thy decree Had never spoken. And before my time If I shall die, I reckon this a gain; For whoso lives, as I, in many woes, How can it be but he shall gain by death? And so for me to bear this doom of thine Has nothing fearful. But, if I had left My mother's son unburied on his death, In that I should have suffered; but in this I suffer not.[274] Creon, unyielding and unable to conceive of a law higher than that he knew, gave orders that she should be buried alive, as having deliberately set at nought the solemn edict of the city. Her lover, Hæmon, the son of Creon, unable to avert her fate, would not survive her, and fell by his own hand. It is only after his son's death and as he gazes upon the corpses of the lovers, that the aged Creon recognizes the insolence of his narrow judgment. And those that stand beside him say: Man's highest blessedness In wisdom chiefly stands; And in the things that touch upon the gods, 'T is best in word or deed, To shun unholy pride; Great words of boasting bring great punishments, And so to gray-haired age Teach wisdom at the last.[275] =189. The Epigoni.=[276] Such was the fall of the house of Labdacus. The bane of Cadmus expires with the family of [OE]dipus. But the wedding gear of Harmonia has not yet fulfilled its baleful mission. Amphiaraüs had, with his last breath, enjoined his son Alcmæon to avenge him on the faithless Eriphyle. Alcmæon engaged his word, but before accomplishing the fell purpose, he was ordered by an oracle of Delphi to conduct against Thebes a new expedition. Thereto his mother Eriphyle, influenced by Thersander, the son of Polynices, and bribed this time by the gift of Harmonia's wedding garment, impelled not only Alcmæon but her other son, Amphilochus. The descendants (_Epigoni_) of the former Seven thus renewed the war against Thebes. They leveled the city to the ground. Its inhabitants, counseled by Tiresias, took refuge in foreign lands. Tiresias himself perished during the flight. Alcmæon, returning to Argos, put his mother to death but, in consequence, repeated in his own experience the penalty of Orestes. The outfit of Harmonia preserved its malign influence until, at last, it was devoted to the temple at Delphi and removed from the sphere of mortal jealousies. FOOTNOTES: [272] Æschylus, Seven against Thebes; Euripides, Ph[oe]nissæ; Apollodorus, 3. 6 and 7; Hyginus, Fab. 69, 70; Pausanias, 8 and 9; Statius, Thebaid. [273] Sophocles, Antigone; Euripides, Suppliants. [274] Sophocles, Antigone, ll. 450-470 (E. H. Plumptre's translation). [275] Sophocles, Antigone, closing chorus. [276] Pausanias, 9, 9, §§ 2, 3; Herodotus, 5, 61; Apollodorus. CHAPTER XXI HOUSES CONCERNED IN THE TROJAN WAR =190. Three Families.= Before entering upon the causes of the war against Troy, we must notice the three Grecian families that were principally concerned,--those of Peleus, Atreus, and Tyndareus. =191. Peleus=[277] was the son of Æacus and grandson of Jove. It was for his father Æacus, king of Phthia in Thessaly, that, as we have seen, an army of Myrmidons was created by Jupiter. Peleus joined the expedition of the Argonauts, and on that journey beheld and fell in love with the sea-nymph Thetis, daughter of Nereus and Doris. Such was the beauty of the nymph that Jupiter himself had sought her in marriage; but having learned from Prometheus, the Titan, that Thetis should bear a son who should be greater than his father, the Olympian desisted from his suit and decreed that Thetis should be the wife of a mortal. By the aid of Chiron, the Centaur, Peleus succeeded in winning the goddess for his bride. In this marriage, to be productive of momentous results for mortals, the immortals manifested a lively interest. They thronged with the Thessalians to the wedding in Pharsalia; they honored the wedding feast with their presence and, reclining on ivory couches, gave ear while the three Sisters of Fate, in responsive strain, chanted the fortunes of Achilles,--the future hero of the Trojan War,--the son that should spring from this union of a goddess with a mortal. The following is from a translation of the famous poem, The Wedding of Peleus and Thetis:[278] ... Now, on the day foreset, Aurora forsaking the ocean Crimsons the orient sky: all Thessaly, seeking the palace, Fares to the royal seat, in populous muster exultant, Heavy of hand with gifts, but blithesome of cheer for the joyance. Scyros behind they leave, they leave Phthiotican Tempe, Crannon's glittering domes and the battlements Larissæan, Cumber Pharsalia, throng the abodes and the streets of Pharsalus. Fields, meanwhile are untilled, grow tender the necks of the oxen, None with the curving teeth of the harrow cleareth the vineyard, None upturneth the glebe with bull and the furrowing plowshare, None with gardener's knife lets light through the branches umbrageous; Squalid the rust creeps up o'er plows forgotten of plowmen. Bright is the palace, ay, through far retreating recesses Blazing for sheen benign of the opulent gold and the silver: Ivory gleams on the thrones, great goblets glint on the tables, Glitters the spacious home, made glad with imperial splendor,-- Ay, but most--in the hall midmost--is the couch of the goddess, Glorious, made of the tusk of the Indian elephant--polished-- Spread with a wonder of quilt empurpled with dye of the sea-shell. On this coverlet of purple were embroidered various scenes illustrating the lessons of heroism and justice that the poet would inculcate: to the good falleth good; to the evil, evil speedily. Therefore, the story of Theseus and Ariadne, which has already been recounted, was here displayed in cunning handiwork. For Theseus, the false lover, bold of hand but bad of heart, gained by retributive justice undying ruth and misery; whereas Ariadne, the injured and innocent, restored to happiness, won no less a reward than Bacchus himself. Gorgeously woven with such antique and heroic figures was the famous quilt upon the couch of Thetis. For a season the wedding guests feasted their eyes upon it. Then when Thessaly's youth, long gazing, had of the wonder Their content, they gan give place to the lords of Olympus. As when Zephyr awakes the recumbent billows of ocean, Roughens the placid deep with eager breath of the morning, Urges the waves, and impels, to the threshold of journeying Ph[oe]bus,-- They, at first, blown outward unroughly when Dawn is a-rising, Limp slow-footed, and loiter with laughter lightsomely plashing, But, with the freshening gale, creep quicker and thicker together, Till on horizon they float refulgent of luminous purple,-- So from the portal withdrawing the pomp Thessalian departed Faring on world-wide ways to the far-off homes of their fathers. Now when they were aloof, drew nigh from Pelion's summit Chiron bearing gifts from copses and glades of the woodland-- Gifts that the meadows yield: what flowers on Thessaly's mountains, Or, by waves of the stream, the prolific breath of the West Wind, Warming, woos to the day, all such in bunches assorted Bore he. Flattered with odors the whole house brake into laughter. Came there next Peneüs, abandoning verdurous Tempe-- Tempe embowered deep mid superimpendent forests. And after the river-god, who bore with him nodding plane trees and lofty beeches, straight slim laurels, the lithe poplar, and the airy cypress to plant about the palace that thick foliage might give it shade, followed Prometheus, the bold and cunning of heart, wearing still the marks of his ancient punishment on the rocks of Caucasus. Finally the father of the gods himself came, with his holy spouse and his offspring,--all, save Ph[oe]bus and his one sister, who naturally looked askance upon a union to be productive of untold misfortune to their favored town of Troy. [Illustration: FIG. 148. THE GODS BRING WEDDING GIFTS] ... When now the gods had reclined their limbs on the ivory couches, Viands many and rare were heaped on the banqueting tables, Whilst the decrepit Sisters of Fate, their tottering bodies Solemnly swayed, and rehearsed their soothfast vaticination. --Lo, each tremulous frame was wrapped in robe of a whiteness, Down to the ankles that fell, with nethermost border of purple, While on ambrosial brows there rested fillets like snowflakes. They, at a task eternal their hands religiously plying, Held in the left on high, with wool enfolded, a distaff, Delicate fibers wherefrom, drawn down, were shaped by the right hand-- Shaped by fingers upturned,--but the down-turned thumb set a-whirling, Poised with perfected whorl, the industrious shaft of the spindle. Still, as they span, as they span, was the tooth kept nipping and smoothing, And to the withered lip clung morsels of wool as they smoothed it-- Filaments erstwhile rough that stood from the twist of the surface. Close at their feet, meantime, were woven baskets of wicker Guarding the soft white balls of the wool resplendent within them. Thus then, parting the strands, these Three with resonant voices Uttered, in chant divine, predestined sooth of the future-- Prophecy neither in time, nor yet in eternity, shaken. "Thou that exaltest renown of thy name with the name of thy valor, Bulwark Emathian, blest above sires in the offspring of promise, Hear with thine ears this day what oracles fall from the Sisters Chanting the fates for thee;--but you, ye destiny-drawing Spindles, hasten the threads of the destinies set for the future! "Rideth the orb upon high that heralds boon unto bridegrooms-- Hesperus,--cometh anon with star propitious the virgin, Speedeth thy soul to subdue--submerge it with love at the flood tide. Hasten, ye spindles, and run, yea, gallop, ye thread-running spindles! "Erstwhile, never a home hath roofed like generous loving, Never before hath Love conjoinèd lovers so dearly,-- Never with harmony such as endureth for Thetis and Peleus. Hasten, ye spindles, and run, yea, gallop, ye thread-running spindles! "Born unto you shall be the undaunted heart of Achilles, Aye by his brave breast known, unknown by his back to the foeman,-- Victor in onslaught, victor in devious reach of the race-course, Fleeter of foot than feet of the stag that lighten and vanish,-- Hasten, ye spindles, and run, yea, gallop, ye thread-running spindles!" =192. Achilles, Son of Peleus.= So the sisters prophesied the future of the hero, Achilles,--from his father called Pelides; from his grandfather, Æacides. How by him the Trojans should fall, as fall the ears of corn when they are yellow before the scythe; how because of him Scamander should run red, warm with blood, choked with blind bodies, into the whirling Hellespont; how finally he himself, in his prime, should fall, and how on his tomb should be sacrificed the fair Polyxena, daughter of Priam, whom he had loved. "So," says Catullus, "sang the Fates. For those were the days before piety and righteous action were spurned by mankind, the days when Jupiter and his immortals deigned to consort with zealous man, to enjoy the sweet odor of his burnt-offering, to march beside him to battle, to swell his shout in victory and his lament in defeat, to smile on his peaceful harvests, to recline at his banquets, and to bless the weddings of fair women and goodly heroes. But now, alas," concludes Catullus, "godliness and chastity, truth, wisdom, and honor have departed from among men": [Illustration: FIG. 149] Wherefore the gods no more vouchsafe their presence to mortals, Suffer themselves no more to be touched by the ray of the morning. But there were gods in the pure,--in the golden prime of the Ages. The hero of the Trojan War, here prophesied, =Achilles=, fleet of foot, the dauntless, the noble, the beloved of Zeus, the breaker of the ranks of men, is the ideal hero of the Greeks,--the mightiest of the Achæans far. Of his youth many interesting stories are told: how his mother, endeavoring to make him invulnerable, plunged him in the river Styx, and succeeded save with regard to his ankles by which she held him; and how he was educated in eloquence and the arts of war by his father's friend Ph[oe]nix, and by his father's other friend Chiron, the centaur, in riding and hunting and music and the art of healing. One of the most Greek-minded of our English poets, Matthew Arnold,[279] singing of a beauteous dell by Etna, tells how In such a glen, on such a day, On Pelion, on the grassy ground, Chiron, the aged Centaur, lay, The young Achilles standing by. The Centaur taught him to explore The mountains; where the glens are dry And the tired Centaurs come to rest, And where the soaking springs abound And the straight ashes grow for spears, And where the hill goats come to feed And the sea eagles build their nest. He showed him Phthia far away. And said, "O boy, I taught this lore To Peleus, in long distant years!" He told him of the gods, the stars, The tides;--and then of mortal wars, And of the life which heroes lead Before they reach the Elysian place And rest in the immortal mead; And all the wisdom of his race. Upon the character of Achilles, outspoken, brave, impulsive; to his friends passionately devoted, to his foes implacable; lover of war and lover of home; inordinately ambitious but submissive to divine decree;--upon this handsome, gleaming, terrible, glooming, princely warrior of his race, the poet of the Iliad delights to dwell, and the world has delighted in the portraiture from that day to this. =193. Atreus= was the son of Pelops and Hippodamia and grandson of Tantalus, therefore great-grandson of Jove. Both by blood and by marriage he was connected with Theseus. He took to wife Aërope, granddaughter of Minos II, king of Crete, and by her had two sons, Agamemnon, the general of the Grecian army in the Trojan War, and Menelaüs, at whose solicitation the war was undertaken. Of Atreus it may be said that with cannibal atrocity like that of his grandsire, Tantalus, he on one occasion wreaked his vengeance on a brother, Thyestes, by causing him to eat the flesh of two of his own children. A son of this Thyestes, Ægisthus by name, revived in due time against Agamemnon the treacherous feud that had existed between their fathers. =194. Tyndareus= was king of Lacedæmon (Sparta). His wife was Leda, daughter of Thestius of Calydon, and sister of Althæa, the mother of Meleager and Dejanira. To Tyndareus Leda bore Castor and Clytemnestra; to Jove she bore Pollux and Helen. The two former were mortal; the two latter, immortal. Clytemnestra was married to Agamemnon of Mycenæ, to whom she bore Electra, Iphigenia, Chrysothemis, and Orestes. Helen, the fair immediate cause of the Trojan War, became the wife of Menelaüs, who with her obtained the kingdom of Sparta. Of the families of Peleus, Atreus, and Tyndareus, the genealogies will be found in the Commentary corresponding with these sections of the story; also the genealogy of Ulysses, one of the leaders of the Greek army during the war and the hero of the Odyssey, which narrates his subsequent adventures; and that of the royal family of Troy against whom the war was undertaken. A slight study of these family trees will reveal interesting relationships between the principal participants in the war. For instance: that the passionate Achilles and the intolerant Ajax, second only to Achilles in military prowess, are first cousins; and that the family of Ajax is connected by marriage with that of the Trojan Hector, whom he meets in combat. That Ulysses is a distant cousin of his wife Penelope and of Clytemnestra, the wife of Agamemnon; and that he is a kinsman of Patroclus, the bosom friend of Achilles. In the family of Tyndareus we note most the tragic and romantic careers of the women,--Clytemnestra, who murdered her husband and married his cousin Ægisthus; Helen, whose beauty provoked war between her two husbands and their races; Penelope, whose fidelity to her absent lord is the marvel of the Odyssey. It will be noticed, too, that the daughter of Helen, Hermione, is strangely enough married first by the son of Achilles and, afterwards, by the son of Agamemnon, and so becomes sister-in-law to her noble cousins, Electra and Iphigenia. The kinsmen and descendants of Peleus--Telamon, Ajax, Teucer, Achilles, Neoptolemus--are characterized by their personal valor, their intolerant and resentful temper. In the family of Atreus, the men are remarkable for their kingly attributes; the principal women for their unwavering devotion to religious duty. The members of the royal family of Troy are of richly varied and most unusual individuality: like Tithonus and Memnon, Paris, Hesione, Cassandra and Polyxena, poetic and pathetic; like Laomedon, Priam, Hector and Troilus, patriotic, persistent in the face of overwhelming odds; but all fated to a dolorous end. Of those engaged in the Trojan War, Æneas and his aged father, Anchises, beloved of Venus, are practically the only survivors to a happier day. FOOTNOTES: [277] Ovid, Metam. 11, 221-265; Catullus, LXIV; Hyginus, Fab. 14; Apollonius Rhodius. Argon. 1, 558; Valerius Flaccus, Argon.; Statius, Achilleid. [278] Catullus, LXIV (Charles Mills Gayley's translation). [279] Empedocles on Etna. [Illustration: FIG. 150. HELEN PERSUADED] CHAPTER XXII THE TROJAN WAR ... At length I saw a lady within call, Stiller than chisel'd marble, standing there: A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair. Her loveliness with shame and with surprise Froze my swift speech: she turning on my face The starlike sorrows of immortal eyes, Spoke slowly in her place. "I had great beauty; ask thou not my name: No one can be more wise than destiny. Many drew swords and died. Where'er I came I brought calamity."[280] =195. Its Origin.= At the nuptials of Peleus and Thetis all the gods had been invited with the exception of Eris, or Discord. Enraged at her exclusion, the goddess threw a golden apple among the guests, with the inscription, "For the fairest." Thereupon Juno, Venus, and Minerva each claimed the apple. Not willing to decide so delicate a matter, Jupiter sent the goddesses to Mount Ida where Paris, son of Priam, king of Troy, was tending his flocks. Till that moment the shepherd-prince had been happy. He was young and beautiful and beloved,--"White-breasted like a star," says [OE]none, the nymph whom he had wedded: White-breasted like a star Fronting the dawn he moved; a leopard skin Dropp'd from his shoulder, but his sunny hair Cluster'd about his temples like a god's: And his cheek brighten'd as the foam-bow brightens When the wind blows the foam, and all my heart Went forth to embrace him coming ere he came.[1] But to him was now committed the judgment between the goddesses. They appeared: And at their feet the crocus brake like fire, Violet, amaracus, and asphodel, Lotos and lilies: and a wind arose, And overhead the wandering ivy and vine, This way and that, in many a wild festoon Ran riot, garlanding the gnarlèd boughs With bunch and berry and flower thro' and thro'.[281] Juno promised him power and riches, Minerva glory and renown in war, Venus the fairest of women for his wife,--each attempting to bias the judge in her own favor. Paris, forgetting the fair nymph to whom he owed fealty, decided in favor of Venus, thus making the two other goddesses his enemies. Under the protection of the goddess of love, he soon afterwards sailed to Greece. Here he was hospitably received by Menelaüs, whose wife, Helen, as fairest of her sex, was unfortunately the prize destined for Paris. This fair queen had in time past been sought by numerous suitors; but before her decision was made known, they all, at the suggestion of Ulysses, son of Laërtes, king of Ithaca, had taken an oath that they would sustain her choice and avenge her cause if necessary. She was living happily with Menelaüs when Paris, becoming their guest, made love to her, and then, aided by Venus, persuaded her to elope with him, and carried her to Troy. From this cause arose the famous Trojan War,--the theme of the greatest poems of antiquity, those of Homer and Virgil. [Illustration: FIG. 151. ACHILLES TAKEN FROM SCYROS] Menelaüs called upon the chieftains of Greece to aid him in recovering his wife. They came forward with a few exceptions. Ulysses, for instance, who had married a cousin of Helen's, Penelope, daughter of Icarius, was happy in his wife and child, and loth to embark in the troublesome affair. Palamedes was sent to urge him. But when Palamedes arrived at Ithaca, Ulysses pretended madness. He yoked an ass and an ox together to the plow and began to sow salt. The ambassador, to try him, placed the infant Telemachus before the plow, whereupon the father, turning the plow aside, showed that his insanity was a mere pretense. Being himself gained for the undertaking, Ulysses lent his aid to bring in other reluctant chiefs, especially Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis. Thetis being herself one of the immortals, and knowing that her son was fated to perish before Troy if he went on the expedition, endeavored to prevent his going. She, accordingly, sent him to the court of King Lycomedes of the island of Scyros, and induced him to conceal himself in the garb of a maiden among the daughters of the king. Hearing that the young Achilles was there, Ulysses went disguised as a merchant to the palace and offered for sale female ornaments, among which had been placed some arms. Forgetting the part he had assumed, Achilles handled the weapons and thereby betrayed himself to Ulysses, who found no great difficulty in persuading him to disregard his mother's counsels and join his countrymen in the war. It seems that from early youth Paris had been reared in obscurity, because there were forebodings that he would be the ruin of the state. These forebodings appeared, at last, likely to be realized; for the Grecian armament now in preparation was the greatest that had ever been fitted out. Agamemnon, king of Mycenæ and brother of Menelaüs, was chosen commander in chief. Preëminent among the warriors was the swift-footed Achilles. After him ranked his cousin Ajax, the son of Telamon, gigantic in size and of great courage, but dull of intellect; Diomede, the son of Tydeus, second only to Achilles in all the qualities of a hero; Ulysses, famous for sagacity; and Nestor, the oldest of the Grecian chiefs, to whom they all looked up for counsel. But Troy was no feeble enemy. Priam the king, son of Laomedon and brother of Tithonus and Hesione, was now old; but he had been a wise prince and had strengthened his state by good government at home and powerful alliances with his neighbors. By his wife Hecuba he had a numerous family; but the principal stay and support of his throne was his son Hector, one of the noblest figures of antiquity. The latter had, from the first, a presentiment of the ruin of Troy, but still he persevered in heroic resistance, though he by no means justified the wrong which brought this danger upon his country. He was united in marriage with the noble Andromache, and as husband and father his character was not less admirable than as warrior. The principal leaders on the side of the Trojans, beside Hector, were his relative, Æneas, the son of Venus and Anchises, Deiphobus, Glaucus, and Sarpedon. =196. Iphigenia in Aulis.= After two years of preparation, the Greek fleet and army assembled in the port of Aulis in B[oe]otia. Here Agamemnon, while hunting, killed a stag that was sacred to Diana. The goddess in retribution visited the army with pestilence and produced a calm which prevented the ships from leaving the port. Thereupon, Calchas the soothsayer announced that the wrath of the virgin goddess could only be appeased by the sacrifice of a virgin, and that none other but the daughter of the offender would be acceptable. Agamemnon, however reluctant, submitted to the inevitable and sent for his daughter Iphigenia, under the pretense that her marriage to Achilles was to be at once performed. But, in the moment of sacrifice, Diana, relenting, snatched the maiden away and left a hind in her place. Iphigenia, enveloped in a cloud, was conveyed to Tauris, where Diana made her priestess of her temple.[282] [Illustration: FIG. 152. THE SACRIFICE OF IPHIGENIA] Iphigenia is represented as thus describing her feelings at the moment of sacrifice: "I was cut off from hope in that sad place, Which men call'd Aulis in those iron years: My father held his hand upon his face; I, blinded with my tears, "Still strove to speak: my voice was thick with sighs As in a dream. Dimly I could descry The stern black-bearded kings, with wolfish eyes Waiting to see me die. "The high masts flicker'd as they lay afloat; The crowds, the temples, waver'd, and the shore; The bright death quiver'd at the victim's throat; Touch'd; and I knew no more."[283] =197. Protesilaüs and Laodamia.= The wind now proving fair, the fleet made sail and brought the forces to the coast of Troy. The Trojans opposed their landing, and at the first onset one of the noblest of the Greeks, Protesilaüs, fell by the hand of Hector. This Protesilaüs had left at home his wife Laodamia (a niece of Alcestis),--who was most tenderly attached to him. The story runs that when the news of his death reached her, she implored the gods for leave to converse with him if but for three hours. The request was granted. Mercury led Protesilaüs back to the upper world; and when the hero died a second time Laodamia died with him. It is said that the nymphs planted elm trees round his grave, which flourished till they were high enough to command a view of Troy, then withered away, giving place to fresh branches that sprang from the roots. Wordsworth has taken the story of Protesilaüs and Laodamia for a poem invested with the atmosphere of the classics. The oracle, according to the tradition, had declared that victory should be the lot of that party from which should fall the first victim in the war. The poet represents Protesilaüs, on his brief return to earth, relating to Laodamia the story of his fate: "The wished-for wind was given:--I then revolved The oracle, upon the silent sea; And, if no worthier led the way, resolved That, of a thousand vessels, mine should be The foremost prow in pressing to the strand,-- Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand. "Yet bitter, ofttimes bitter, was the pang When of thy loss I thought, belovèd Wife! On thee too fondly did my memory hang, And on the joys we shared in mortal life,-- The paths which we had trod--these fountains, flowers, My new-planned cities, and unfinished towers. "But should suspense permit the foe to cry, 'Behold they tremble!--haughty their array, Yet of their number no one dares to die'? In soul I swept the indignity away: Old frailties then recurred:--but lofty thought, In act embodied, my deliverance wrought."... ... Upon the side Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained) A knot of spiry trees for ages grew From out the tomb of him for whom she died; And ever, when such stature they had gained That Ilium's walls were subject to their view, The trees' tall summits withered at the sight; A constant interchange of growth and blight! =198. Homer's Iliad.= The war continued without decisive result for nine years. Then an event occurred which seemed likely to prove fatal to the cause of the Greeks,--a quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon. It is at this point that the great poem of Homer, the Iliad, begins. Of this and the other epics from which the story is drawn an account will be found in Chapter XXXII below; and a list of the best English translations, in the corresponding sections of the Commentary. What delight one may derive from reading the Greek epics even in translation is nowhere better expressed than in the following sonnet of John Keats, "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer": Much have I travel'd in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne: Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: --Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific--and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise-- Silent, upon a peak in Darien. =199. The Wrath of Achilles.= The Greeks, though unsuccessful against Troy, had taken the neighboring and allied cities; and in the division of the spoil a female captive, by name Chryseïs, daughter of Chryses, priest of Apollo, had fallen to the share of Agamemnon. Chryses came bearing the sacred emblems of his office and begged the release of his daughter. Agamemnon refused. Thereupon Chryses implored Apollo to afflict the Greeks till they should be forced to yield their prey. Apollo granted the prayer of his priest and sent such pestilence upon the Grecian camp, that a council was called to deliberate how to allay the wrath of the gods and avert the plague. Achilles boldly charged the misfortunes upon Agamemnon as caused by his withholding Chryseïs. Agamemnon, in anger, consented, thereupon, to relinquish his captive, but demanded that Achilles should yield to him in her stead Briseïs, a maiden who had fallen to that hero's share in the division of the spoil. Achilles submitted, but declared that he would take no further part in the war,--withdrew his forces from the general camp and avowed his intention of returning to Greece. [Illustration: FIG. 153. THE SURRENDER OF BRISEÏS From the relief by Thorwaldsen] =200. The Enlistment of the Gods.= The gods and goddesses interested themselves as much in this famous siege as did the parties themselves. It was well known in heaven that fate had decreed the fall of Troy, if her enemies only persevered. Yet there was room for chance sufficient to excite by turns the hopes and fears of the powers above who took part with either side. Juno and Minerva, in consequence of the slight put upon their charms by Paris, were hostile to the Trojans; Venus for the opposite cause favored them; she enlisted, also, her admirer Mars on the same side. Neptune favored the Greeks. Apollo was neutral, sometimes taking one side, sometimes the other. Jove himself, though he loved Priam, exercised a degree of impartiality,--not, however, without exceptions. =201. Thetis intercedes for Achilles.= Resenting the injury done by Agamemnon to her son, Thetis, the silver-footed, repaired to Jove's palace, and besought him to grant success to the Trojan arms and so make the Greeks repent of their injustice to Achilles. The father of the gods, wavering at first, finally sighed and consented, saying, "Go thou now, but look to it that Juno see thee not, for oft she taunts me that I aid the Trojan cause." Vain precaution: the jealous queen had seen only too well, and quickly she confronted the Thunderer with her suspicions,-- "Fateful favor to Achilles, hast thou granted now I trow!" said she. Zeus that rolls the clouds of heaven, her addressing answered then: "Moonstruck! thou art ever _trowing_; never I escape thy ken. After all, it boots thee nothing; leaves thee of my heart the less,-- So thou hast the worser bargain. What if I the fact confess? It was done because I willed it. Hold thy place--my word obey, Lest if I come near, and on thee these unconquered hands I lay, All the gods that hold Olympus naught avail thee here to-day."[284] =202. Agamemnon calls a Council.= In the events which immediately follow we are introduced to the more important human personages on both sides. To begin with, Agamemnon, king of men, deceived by a dream sent by Jupiter, calls a council of the Greeks in which, desiring to arouse them to fresh onslaught upon the Trojans, he tests their patience first by depicting the joys of the return home to Greece, and nearly overreaches himself in his cunning; for had it not been for the wise Nestor, king of sandy Pylos, and Ulysses of many devices, peer of Jove in wisdom, the common soldiers, fired with hope of viewing their dear native land and wives and little children once more, would have launched the ships and sailed forthwith. Among the murmuring host of those who clamor for retreat the leader is Thersites, uncontrolled of speech, full of disorderly words, striving idly against the chieftains, aiming ever to turn their authority into ridicule. He is the one ludicrous character of the Iliad, this boaster and scandalmonger, sneering and turbulent of tongue: His figure such as might his soul proclaim; One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame; His mountain shoulders half his breast o'erspread, Thin hairs bestrewed his long misshapen head. Spleen to mankind his envious heart possest, And much he hated all, but most the best. Ulysses or Achilles still his theme; But royal scandal his delight supreme.[1] Him Ulysses hearing rebukes, raising his scepter to strike: "Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state, With wrangling talents formed for foul debate.... Have we not known thee, slave of all our host, The man who acts the least, upbraids the most?..." He said, and cowering as the dastard bends, The weighty scepter on his back descends: On the round bunch the bloody tumors rise; The tears spring starting from his haggard eyes: Trembling he sat, and, shrunk in abject fears, From his wild visage wiped the scalding tears.[285] The revolt is thus stayed. A banquet of the Greek chieftains is then held, merely of the greatest--Nestor, Idomeneus of Crete, Ajax the son of Telamon and cousin of Achilles, and Ajax the less, son of Oïleus, Ulysses, also, and Agamemnon himself. Menelaüs comes, unbid but not unwelcome. Sacrifices are offered, but in vain; Jove heeds them not. Finally, a muster of the Greek troops, by nations and by kings, is determined upon; and so the army is set in array. =203. Paris plays the Champion.= Likewise the army of the Trojans; and battle is about to be joined when forth from the Trojan ranks steps Paris himself to challenge some champion of the opposing host to single combat,--the beauteous Paris, In form a god! The panther's speckled hide Flowed o'er his armor with an easy pride,-- His bended bow across his shoulders flung, His sword beside him negligently hung, Two pointed spears he shook with gallant grace, And dared the bravest of the Grecian race.[1] Him, Menelaüs whom he had betrayed, Menelaüs loved of Mars, raging like a lion, swift espies and, leaping from his chariot, hastens to encounter. But Paris, smitten with a sense of his own treachery, fearful, trembling, pale at sight of the avenger, betakes himself to his heels and hides in the thick of the forces behind. Upbraided, however, by the generous Hector, noblest of Priam's sons, the handsome Trojan recovers his self-possession and consents to meet Menelaüs in formal combat between the opposing hosts: Helen and the wealth she brought to be the prize; and, thus, the long war to reach its termination. The Greeks accept the proposal, and a truce is agreed upon that sacrifices may be made on either side for victory, and the duel proceed. =204. Helen surveys the Grecian Host.= Meantime, Iris, the goddess of the rainbow, summons Helen to view the impending duel. At her loom in the Trojan palace the ill-starred daughter of Leda is sitting, weaving in a golden web her own sad story. At memory of her former husband's love, her home, her parents, the princess drops a tear; then, softly sighing, turns her footsteps to the Scæan gate. No word is said of her matchless beauty, but what it was Homer shows us by its effect. For as she approaches the tower where aged Priam and his gray-haired chieftains sit, these cry,-- "No wonder such celestial charms For nine long years have set the world in arms; What winning graces! what majestic mien! She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen. Yet hence, oh Heaven! convey that fatal face, And from destruction save the Trojan race."[286] --Words reëchoed by our English Marlowe, two thousand years later: Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.-- Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies! Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again! Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.... Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars; Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter When he appeared to hapless Semele;... And none but thou shalt be my paramour![287] Priam, receiving his daughter-in-law tenderly, inquires of her the names of one and another of the Greeks moving on the plain below.-- "Who, that Around whose brow such martial graces shine, So tall, so awful, and almost divine?"[2] "The son of Atreus," answers she, shamefacedly. "Agamemnon, king of kings, my brother once, before my days of shame." "What's he whose arms lie scattered on the plain? Broad is his breast, his shoulders larger spread, Though great Atrides overtops his head. Nor yet appear his care and conduct small; From rank to rank he moves and orders all."[2] "That is Ulysses," replies Helen, "of the barren isle of Ithaca; but his fame for wisdom fills the earth." Old Antenor, seated by Priam's side, thereupon recalls the modesty and the restrained but moving eloquence of the wondrous son of Laërtes. The king then asked, as yet the camp he viewed, "What chief is that, with giant strength endued; Whose brawny shoulders, and whose swelling chest, And lofty stature, far exceed the rest?"[288] "That is Ajax the great," responds the beauteous queen, "himself a host, bulwark of the Achæans." And she points out Idomeneus, also, the godlike king of Crete; then scans the array for her own dear brothers Castor and Pollux;--in vain, for them the life-giving earth held fast there in Lacedæmon, their native land. =205. Menelaüs defeats Paris.= Now from both sides sacrifices have been made to Jove, avenger of oaths, with prayer for victory and vow of fidelity to the contract made. But Jove vouchsafes not yet fulfillment. The lists are measured out by Hector and Ulysses. The duel is on. Paris throws his spear: it strikes, but fails to penetrate the shield of Menelaüs. Menelaüs then breaks his blade upon the helmet of the Trojan, seizes him by the horsehair crest, and drags him toward the Grecian lines. But Aphrodite touches the chin strap of Paris' headpiece so that it breaks and leaves the futile helmet in the victor's hand. Then, wrapping her favorite in a mist, the goddess bears him from the pursuit of the furious Menelaüs, and, laying him safe in Helen's chamber, summons his mistress, who first upbraids, then soothes him with her love. The Greeks claim the victory, and with justice. The Trojans, then and there, would have yielded Helen and her wealth, and the fate of Troy might have been averted, had it not been for the machinations of the goddesses, Juno and Minerva. These could not bear that the hated city should thus escape. Prompted by the insidious urging of Minerva, one of the Trojans, Pandarus, breaks the truce; he shoots his arrow full at the heart of the unsuspecting Menelaüs. Minerva, of course, deflects the fatal shaft. But the treachery has accomplished its purpose; the war is reopened with fresh bitterness. =206. The Two Days' Battle.= The battle which then begins lasts for two whole days. In its progress we witness a series of single combats. Pandarus the archer wounds Diomede, the son of Tydeus. He in turn, raging over the plain, fells Pandarus with his spear and crushes Æneas, Priam's valiant kinsman, to his knees with a great stone. Venus shrouds her fallen son in her shining veil and will rescue him. But Diomedes, clear of vision, spies her out and drives his pointed spear against her hand, grazing the palm of it. Out leaps the ichor, life-stream of the blessed gods, and the goddess shrieking drops her burden and flees from the jeering Diomede;--nay, mounts even to Olympus where, sobbing in the arms of her mother, Dione, she finds solace of her pain, and straightway turns to hopes of vengeance. Æneas, meantime, is wrapped by Ph[oe]bus Apollo in a dusky cloud and borne aloft to that god's temple, where Diana and Latona heal him. To Diomede still breathing slaughter, the god of war himself, Mars, now appears in form of a Thracian captain, opposing him and stirring Hector and the swiftly recovered Æneas and the godlike Sarpedon against the Greeks. And the Greeks give back, but the keen eye of Diomede pierces the disguise of the War-god, and he shouts a warning to his comrades. Then Minerva descends to where Diomede, the son of Tydeus, is resting beside his chariot, and she spurs him afresh to the fray. "Thou joy of my heart," says she, "fear thou neither Mars nor any other of the immortals, for I shall help thee mightily." So she takes the place of his charioteer, and together they drive upon the War-god. And that one cannot come at the son of Tydeus to strike him down, because of the ward that Minerva vouchsafes. But, for his part, Diomede strikes his spear against the nethermost belly of Mars and wounds him, rending his fair skin; and he plucks forth the spear again. Then brazen Mars bellows loud as nine or ten thousand soldiers all at once; and, like Venus before him, betakes himself to Olympus. There, complaining to Jove, he receives stern reprimand for his intolerant and hateful spirit, stirring men ever to strife,--"like thine own mother Juno, after whom, not after me, thou takest." Thus, the father of the gods; and he makes an end, and bids Pæan, the family physician, heal him. Diomedes, still bearing down upon the Trojans, is about to fight with a young warrior when, struck by his appearance, he inquires his name. It is Glaucus, and the youth is grandson of the noble Bellerophon. Then Diomede of the loud war cry is glad and strikes his spear into the earth and declines to fight. "For lo," says he, "our grandfathers were guest-friends, and guest-friends are we. Why slay each other? There are multitudes of Trojans for me to slay, and for thee Achæans in multitude, if thou canst. Let us twain rather exchange arms as a testimony of our good faith." And this they do; and Diomede gets the best of the bargain, his armor being worth but nine oxen, and young Glaucus' five score. =207. Hector and Andromache.= The Trojans being still pushed nearer to their own walls, Hector, bravest of Priam's sons, returns to the city to urge the women to prayer, and to carry the loitering Paris back with him to the defense. Here he meets his brave mother Hecuba, and then the fair Helen; but most to our purpose and his, his wife, the white-armed Andromache, the noblest of the women of the Iliad, for whom he has searched in vain. [Illustration: FIG. 154. HECTOR'S FAREWELL From the relief by Thorwaldsen] But when he had passed through the great city and was come to the Scæan gates, whereby he was minded to issue upon the plain, then came his dear-won wife, running to meet him, even Andromache, daughter of great-hearted Eëtion.... So she met him now; and with her went the handmaid bearing in her bosom the tender boy, the little child, Hector's loved son, like unto a beautiful star. Him Hector called Scamandrius, but all the folk Astyanax, "defender of the city." So now he smiled and gazed at his boy silently, and Andromache stood by his side weeping, and clasped her hand in his, and spake and called upon his name. "Dear my lord, this thy hardihood will undo thee, neither hast thou any pity for thine infant boy, nor for hapless me that soon shall be thy widow; for soon will the Achæans all set upon thee and slay thee. But it were better for me to go down to the grave if I lose thee; for nevermore will any comfort be mine, when once thou, even thou, hast met thy fate,--but only sorrow. Moreover I have no father, now, nor lady mother.... And the seven brothers that were mine within our halls, all these on the selfsame day went within the house of Hades; for fleet-footed, goodly Achilles slew them all amid their kine of trailing gait and white-faced sheep.... Nay, Hector, thou art to me father and lady mother, yea and brother, even as thou art my goodly husband. Come now, have pity and abide here upon the tower, lest thou make thy child an orphan and thy wife a widow." ... Then great Hector of the glancing helm answered her: "Surely I take thought for all these things, my wife; but I have very sore shame of the Trojans and Trojan dames with trailing robes, if like a coward I shrink away from battle. Moreover mine own soul forbiddeth me, seeing I have learnt ever to be valiant and fight in the forefront of the Trojans, winning my father's great glory and mine own. Yea of a surety, I know this in heart and soul; the day shall come for holy Ilios to be laid low, and Priam and the folk of Priam of the good ashen spear. Yet doth the anguish of the Trojans hereafter not so much trouble me, neither Hecuba's own, neither king Priam's, neither my brethren's, the many and brave that shall fall in the dust before their foemen, as doth thine anguish in the day when some mail-clad Achæan shall lead thee weeping, and rob thee of the light of freedom.... But me in death may the heaped-up earth be covering, ere I hear thy crying and thy carrying into captivity."[289] So spoke the great-hearted hero, and stretched his arms out to take his little boy. But The babe clung crying to his nurse's breast, Scared at the dazzling helm, and nodding crest. With secret pleasure each fond parent smiled, And Hector hasted to relieve his child,-- The glittering terrors from his brows unbound And placed the beaming helmet on the ground. Then kissed the child, and, lifting high in air, Thus to the gods, preferred a father's prayer: "O thou! whose glory fills the ethereal throne, And all ye deathless powers! protect my son! Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown, To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown, Against his country's foes the war to wage. And rise the Hector of the future age! So when, triumphant from successive toils Of heroes slain, he bears the reeking spoils, Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim And say, 'This chief transcends his father's fame': While, pleased, amidst the general shouts of Troy, His mother's conscious heart o'erflows with joy."[290] So prayed he, the glorious Hector, foreboding of the future, but little thinking that, when he himself was slain and the city sacked, his starlike son should be cast headlong to death from Troy's high towers, and his dear wife led into captivity as he had dreaded, indeed, and by none other than Neoptolemus, the son of his mortal foe, Achilles. But now Hector laid the boy in the arms of his wife, and she, smiling tearfully, gathered him to her fragrant bosom; and her husband pitied her, and caressed her with his hand, and bade her farewell, saying: "Andromache! my soul's far better part, Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart? No hostile hand can antedate my doom, Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb. Fixed is the term to all the race of earth; And such the hard condition of our birth, No force can then resist, no flight can save; All sink alike, the fearful and the brave. No more--but hasten to thy tasks at home, There guide the spindle, and direct the loom; Me glory summons to the martial scene, The field of combat is the sphere for men. Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim, The first in danger, as the first in fame."[291] He took up his horsehair crested helmet; and she departed to her home, oft looking back and letting fall big tears, thinking that he would no more come back from battle. =208. Neptune aids the Discouraged Greeks.= But the end was not to be so soon. Hector, returning to the field, challenged the bravest of the Greeks to combat. Nine accepted the challenge; but the lot fell upon Ajax, the son of Telamon. The duel lasted till night, with deeds of valor on both sides; and the heroes parted, each testifying to his foeman's worth. The next day a truce was declared for the burning of the dead; but, soon after, the conflict was renewed, and before the might of Hector and his troops the Greeks were driven back to their trenches. Then Agamemnon, king of men, called another council of his wisest and bravest chiefs and, grievously discouraged, proposed, this time in earnest, that they reëmbark and sail home to Greece.[292] In the debate that ensued Nestor advised that an embassy should be sent to Achilles persuading him to return to the field; and that Agamemnon should yield the maiden, the cause of dispute, with ample gifts to atone for the wrong he had done. Agamemnon assented; and Ulysses, Ajax, and Ph[oe]nix were sent to carry to Achilles the penitent message. They performed that duty, but Achilles was deaf to their entreaties. He positively refused to return to the attack and persisted in his determination to embark for Greece without delay. [Illustration: FIG. 155. THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES (Left section)] Meanwhile the Greeks, having constructed a rampart around their ships, were now, instead of besieging Troy, in a manner themselves besieged, within their rampart. The next day after the unsuccessful embassy to Achilles, another battle was fought, in which Agamemnon raged mightily with his spear till, wounded, he was forced to retire to the hollow ships; and Ulysses, too, bravely warring, had a narrow escape with life.[293] Then the Trojans, favored by Jove, succeeded in forcing a passage through the Grecian rampart and were about to set fire to the ships. But Neptune, seeing the Greeks hard pressed, came to their rescue.[294] Appearing in the form of Calchas the prophet, he raised the ardor of the warriors to such a pitch that they forced the Trojans to give way. Here Ajax, son of Telamon, performed prodigies of valor. Bearing his massy shield and "shaking his far-shadowing spear," he encountered Hector.[295] The Greek shouted defiance, to which Hector replied, and hurled his lance at the huge warrior. It was well aimed and struck Ajax where the belts that bore his sword and shield crossed each other on the breast, but the double guard prevented its penetrating, and it fell harmless. Then Ajax, seizing a huge stone, one of those that served to prop the ships, hurled it at Hector. It struck him near the neck and stretched him on the plain. His followers instantly seized him and bore him off stunned and wounded. [Illustration: FIG. 156. THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES (Right Section)] =209. Jupiter inspirits the Trojans.= While Neptune was thus aiding the Greeks and driving back the Trojans, Jupiter saw nothing of what was going on, for his attention had been drawn from the field by the wiles of Juno.[296] That goddess had arrayed herself in all her charms, and to crown all had borrowed of Venus her girdle, the Cestus, which enhanced the wearer's charms to such a degree that they were irresistible. So prepared, Juno had joined her husband, who sat on Olympus watching the battle. When he beheld her, the fondness of his early love revived and, forgetting the contending armies and all other affairs of state, he gave himself up to her and let the battle go as it would. But this oblivion did not continue long. When, upon turning his eyes downward, the cloud-compeller beheld Hector stretched, almost lifeless, on the plain, he angrily dismissed Juno, commanding her to send Iris and Apollo to him.[297] The former bore a peremptory message to Neptune, ordering him to quit the contest. Apollo was dispatched to heal Hector's bruises and to inspirit his heart. These orders were obeyed with such speed that while the battle was still raging, Hector returned to the field and Neptune betook himself to his own dominions. [Illustration: FIG. 157. THE BATTLE BY THE SHIPS] =210. Achilles and Patroclus.= An arrow from the bow of Paris had wounded Machaon, son of Æsculapius, a brave warrior, who, having inherited his father's art, was of great value to the Greeks as their surgeon. Nestor, taking Machaon in his chariot, conveyed him from the field. As they passed the ships of Achilles, that hero, looking over the battle, saw the chariot of Nestor, and recognized the old chief, but could not discern who the wounded warrior was. Calling Patroclus, his companion and dearest friend, he sent him to Nestor's tent to inquire. Patroclus, performing the behest, saw Machaon wounded and, having told the cause of his coming, would have hastened away, but Nestor detained him to tell him the extent of the Grecian calamities. He reminded him also how, at the time of the departure for Troy, Achilles and himself had been charged by their respective sires: the one to aspire to the highest pitch of glory; the other, as the elder, to keep watch over his friend and to guide his inexperience. "Now," said Nestor, "is the time for such guidance. If the gods so please, thou mayest win Achilles back to the common cause; but if not, let him at least send his soldiers to the field, and come thou, Patroclus, clad in his armor. Perhaps the very sight of it may drive back the Trojans."[298] =211. Patroclus in the Armor of Achilles.= Patroclus, strongly moved by this address, hastened to his friend, revolving in his mind what he had seen and heard.[299] He told the prince the sad condition of affairs at the camp of their late associates; Diomede, Ulysses, Agamemnon, Machaon, all wounded, the rampart broken down, the enemy among the ships preparing to burn them and thus to cut off all means of return to Greece. While they spoke, the flames burst forth from one of the ships. Achilles, at the sight, relented so far as to intrust Patroclus with the Myrmidons for the onslaught and to lend him his armor that he might thereby strike the more terror into the minds of the Trojans. Without delay the soldiers were marshaled, Patroclus put on the radiant armor, mounted the chariot of Achilles, and led forth the men ardent for battle. But before his friend went, Achilles strictly charged him to be content with repelling the foe. "Seek not," said he, "to press the Trojans without me, lest thou add still more to the disgrace already mine." Then exhorting the troops to do their best, he dismissed them full of ardor to the fight. Patroclus and his Myrmidons at once plunged into the contest where it raged hottest. At the sight of them the joyful Grecians shouted, and the ships reëchoed the acclaim; but the Trojans, beholding the well-known armor, struck with terror, looked everywhere for refuge. First those who had got possession of the ship and set it on fire allowed the Grecians to retake it and extinguish the flames. Then the rest fled in dismay. Ajax, Menelaüs, and the two sons of Nestor performed prodigies of valor. Hector was forced to turn his horses' heads and retire from the enclosure, leaving his men encumbered in the fosse to escape as they could. Patroclus drove all before him, slaying many; nor did one dare to make a stand against him. [Illustration: FIG. 158. MENELAÜS WITH THE BODY OF PATROCLUS] =212. The Deaths of Sarpedon and Patroclus.= At last the grandson of Bellerophon, Sarpedon, son of Jove and Laodamia, ventured to oppose the Greek warrior. The Olympian looked down upon his son and would have snatched him from the fate impending, but Juno hinted that if he did so, the other inhabitants of heaven might be induced to interpose in like manner whenever any of their offspring were endangered,--an argument to which Jove yielded. Sarpedon threw his spear, but missed Patroclus; the spear of the Greek, on the other hand, pierced Sarpedon's breast, and he fell, calling to his friends to save his body from the foe. Then a furious contest arose for the corpse. The Greeks succeeded in stripping Sarpedon of his armor, but Jove would not suffer the body to be dishonored. By his command Apollo snatched it from the midst of the combatants and committed it to the care of the twin brothers Death and Sleep. By them it was transported to Lycia, Sarpedon's native land, and there received due funeral rites. Thus far Patroclus had succeeded to the utmost in repelling the foe and relieving his countrymen, but now came a change of fortune. Hector, borne in his chariot, confronted him. Patroclus threw a vast stone at the Trojan, which missed its aim, but smote Cebriones, the charioteer, and felled him from the car. Hector leaped from the chariot to rescue his friend, and Patroclus also descended to complete his victory. Thus the two heroes met face to face. At this decisive moment the poet, as if reluctant to give Hector the glory, records that Ph[oe]bus Apollo, taking part against Patroclus, struck the helmet from his head and the lance from his hand. At the same moment an obscure Trojan wounded him in the back, and Hector pressing forward pierced him with his spear. He fell mortally wounded. Then arose a tremendous conflict for the body of Patroclus; but his armor was at once taken possession of by Hector, who, retiring a short distance, divested himself of his own mail, put on that of Achilles, then returned to the fight.[300] Ajax and Menelaüs defended the body, and Hector and his bravest warriors struggled to capture it. The battle still raged with equal fortune, when Jove enveloped the whole face of heaven in a cloud. The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and Ajax, looking round for some one whom he might dispatch to Achilles to tell him of the death of his friend and of the imminent danger of his remains falling into the hands of the enemy, could see no suitable messenger. In desperation he exclaimed: "Father of heaven and earth! deliver thou Achaia's host from darkness; clear the skies; Give day; and, since thy sovereign will is such, Destruction with it; but, oh, give us day!"[301] Jupiter heard the prayer and dispersed the clouds. Ajax sent Antilochus to Achilles with the intelligence of Patroclus' death and of the conflict raging for his remains; and the Greeks at last succeeded in bearing off the body to the ships, closely pursued by Hector and Æneas and the rest of the Trojans. =213. The Remorse of Achilles.= Achilles heard the fate of his friend with such distress that Antilochus feared for a while lest he might destroy himself.[302] His groans reached the ears of Thetis, far down in the deeps of ocean where she abode, and she hastened to inquire the cause. She found him overwhelmed with self-reproach that he had suffered his friend to fall a victim to his resentment. His only consolation was the hope of revenge. He would fly instantly in search of Hector. But his mother reminded him that he was now without armor and promised, if he would but wait till the morrow, to procure for him a suit of armor from Vulcan more than equal to that he had lost. He consented, and Thetis immediately repaired to Vulcan's palace. She found him busy at his forge, making tripods for his own use, so artfully constructed that they moved forward of their own accord when wanted, and retired again when dismissed. On hearing the request of Thetis, Vulcan immediately laid aside his work and hastened to comply with her wishes. He fabricated a splendid suit of armor for Achilles; first a shield adorned with elaborate devices, of which a noble description is given by Homer, then a helmet crested with gold, then a corselet and greaves of impenetrable temper, all perfectly adapted to the hero's form, and of consummate workmanship. The suit was made in one night, and Thetis, receiving it, descended to earth and laid it at Achilles' feet at the dawn of day. =214. The Reconciliation of Agamemnon and Achilles.= The first glow of pleasure that Achilles had felt since the death of Patroclus was at the sight of this splendid armor.[303] And now arrayed in it, he went forth to the camp, calling the chiefs to council. When the leaders were assembled, Achilles addressed them. Renouncing his displeasure against Agamemnon and bitterly lamenting the miseries that had resulted from it, he called on them to proceed at once to the field. Agamemnon made a suitable reply, laying the blame on Ate, the goddess of infatuation; and thereupon complete reconcilement took place between the heroes. Then Achilles went forth to battle, heartened by the inspiration of Minerva and filled with a rage and thirst for vengeance that made him irresistible. As he mounted his chariot, one of his immortal coursers was, strange to say, endowed suddenly with speech from on high and, breaking into prophecy, warned the hero of his approaching doom. But, nothing daunted, Achilles pressed upon the foe. The bravest warriors fled before him or fell by his lance.[304] Hector, cautioned by Apollo, kept aloof; but the god, assuming the form of one of Priam's sons, Lycaon, urged Æneas to encounter the terrible warrior. Æneas, though he felt himself unequal, did not decline the combat. He hurled his spear with all his force against the shield, the work of Vulcan. The spear pierced two plates of the shield, but was stopped in the third. Achilles threw his spear with better success. It pierced through the shield of Æneas, but glanced near his shoulder and made no wound. Then Æneas, seizing a stone, such as two men of modern times could hardly lift, was about to throw it,--and Achilles, with sword drawn, was about to rush upon him,--when Neptune, looking out upon the contest, had pity upon Æneas, who was sure to have the worst of it. The god, consequently, spread a cloud between the combatants and, lifting the Trojan from the ground, bore him over the heads of warriors and steeds to the rear of the battle. Achilles, when the mist cleared away, looked round in vain for his adversary, and acknowledging the prodigy, turned his arms against other champions. But none dared stand before him; and Priam from his city walls beheld the whole army in full flight toward the city. He gave command to open wide the gates to receive the fugitives, and to shut them as soon as the Trojans should have passed, lest the enemy should enter likewise. But Achilles was so close in pursuit that that would have been impossible if Apollo had not, in the form of Agenor, Priam's son, first encountered the swift-footed hero, then turned in flight, and taken the way apart from the city. Achilles pursued, and had chased his supposed victim far from the walls before the god disclosed himself.[305] =215. The Death of Hector.= But when the rest had escaped into the town Hector stood without, determined to await the combat. His father called to him from the walls, begging him to retire nor tempt the encounter. His mother, Hecuba, also besought him, but all in vain. "How can I," said he to himself, "by whose command the people went to this day's contest where so many have fallen, seek refuge for myself from a single foe? Or shall I offer to yield up Helen and all her treasures and ample of our own beside? Ah no! even that is too late. He would not hear me through, but slay me while I spoke." While he thus ruminated, Achilles approached, terrible as Mars, his armor flashing lightning as he moved. At that sight Hector's heart failed him and he fled. Achilles swiftly pursued. They ran, still keeping near the walls, till they had thrice encircled the city. As often as Hector approached the walls Achilles intercepted him and forced him to keep out in a wider circle. But Apollo sustained Hector's strength and would not let him sink in weariness. Then Pallas, assuming the form of Deiphobus, Hector's bravest brother, appeared suddenly at his side. Hector saw him with delight, and thus strengthened, stopped his flight, and, turning to meet Achilles, threw his spear. It struck the shield of Achilles and bounded back. He turned to receive another from the hand of Deiphobus, but Deiphobus was gone. Then Hector understood his doom and said, "Alas! it is plain this is my hour to die! I thought Deiphobus at hand, but Pallas deceived me, and he is still in Troy. But I will not fall inglorious." So saying he drew his falchion from his side and rushed at once to combat. Achilles, secure behind his shield, waited the approach of Hector. When he came within reach of his spear, Achilles, choosing with his eye a vulnerable part where the armor leaves the neck uncovered, aimed his spear at that part, and Hector fell, death-wounded. Feebly he said, "Spare my body! Let my parents ransom it, and let me receive funeral rites from the sons and daughters of Troy." To which Achilles replied, "Dog, name not ransom nor pity to me, on whom you have brought such dire distress. No! trust me, nought shall save thy carcass from the dogs. Though twenty ransoms and thy weight in gold were offered, I should refuse it all."[306] [Illustration: FIG. 159. CONTEST OF ACHILLES AND HECTOR] =216. Achilles drags the Body of Hector.= So saying, the son of Peleus stripped the body of its armor, and, fastening cords to the feet, tied them behind his chariot, leaving the body to trail along the ground. Then mounting the chariot he lashed the steeds and so dragged the body to and fro before the city. No words can tell the grief of Priam and Hecuba at this sight. His people could scarce restrain the aged king from rushing forth. He threw himself in the dust and besought them each by name to let him pass. Hecuba's distress was not less violent. The citizens stood round them weeping. The sound of the mourning reached the ears of Andromache, the wife of Hector, as she sat among her maidens at work; and anticipating evil she went forth to the wall. When she saw the horror there presented, she would have thrown herself headlong from the wall, but fainted and fell into the arms of her maidens. Recovering, she bewailed her fate, picturing to herself her country ruined, herself a captive, and her son, the youthful Astyanax, dependent for his bread on the charity of strangers. [Illustration: FIG. 160. ACHILLES OVER THE BODY OF HECTOR AT THE TOMB OF PATROCLUS] After Achilles and the Greeks had thus taken their revenge on the slayer of Patroclus, they busied themselves in paying due funeral rites to their friend.[307] A pile was erected, and the body burned with due solemnity. Then ensued games of strength and skill, chariot races, wrestling, boxing, and archery. Later, the chiefs sat down to the funeral banquet, and finally retired to rest. But Achilles partook neither of the feast nor of sleep. The recollection of his lost friend kept him awake,--the memory of their companionship in toil and dangers, in battle or on the perilous deep. Before the earliest dawn he left his tent, and joining to his chariot his swift steeds, he fastened Hector's body to be dragged behind. Twice he dragged him round the tomb of Patroclus, leaving him at length stretched in the dust. But Apollo would not permit the body to be torn or disfigured with all this abuse; he preserved it free from taint or defilement.[308] [Illustration: FIG. 161. PRIAM'S VISIT TO ACHILLES] While Achilles indulged his wrath in thus disgracing Hector, Jupiter in pity summoned Thetis to his presence. Bidding her prevail on Achilles to restore the body of Hector to the Trojans, he sent Iris to encourage Priam to beg of Achilles the body of his son. Iris delivered her message, and Priam prepared to obey. He opened his treasuries and took out rich garments and cloths, with ten talents in gold and two splendid tripods and a golden cup of matchless workmanship. Then he called to his sons and bade them draw forth his litter and place in it the various articles designed for a ransom to Achilles. When all was ready, the old king with a single companion as aged as himself, the herald Idæus, drove forth from the gates, parting there with Hecuba his queen, and all his friends, who lamented him as going to certain death. =217. Priam in the Tent of Achilles.=[309] But Jupiter, beholding with compassion the venerable king, sent Mercury to be his guide and protector. Assuming the form of a young warrior, Mercury presented himself to the aged couple; and, when at the sight of him they hesitated whether to fly or yield, approaching he grasped Priam's hand and offered to be their guide to Achilles' tent. Priam gladly accepted his service, and Mercury, mounting the carriage, assumed the reins and conveyed them to the camp. Then having cast the guards into a heavy sleep, he introduced Priam into the tent where Achilles sat, attended by two of his warriors. The aged king threw himself at the feet of Achilles and kissed those terrible hands which had destroyed so many of his sons. "Think, O Achilles," he said, "of thine own father, full of days like me, and trembling on the gloomy verge of life. Even now, mayhap, some neighbor chief oppresses him and there is none at hand to succor him in his distress. Yet, knowing that Achilles lives, he doubtless still rejoices, hoping that one day he shall see thy face again. But me no comfort cheers, whose bravest sons, so late the flower of Ilium, all have fallen. Yet one I had, one more than all the rest the strength of my age, whom fighting for his country thou hast slain. His body I come to redeem, bringing inestimable ransom with me. Achilles! reverence the gods! recollect thy father! for his sake show compassion to me!" These words moved Achilles, and he wept, remembering by turns his absent father and his lost friend. Moved with pity of Priam's silver locks and beard, he raised him from the earth and spake: "Priam, I know that thou hast reached this place conducted by some god, for without aid divine no mortal even in his prime of youth had dared the attempt. I grant thy request, for I am moved thereto by the manifest will of Jove." So saying he arose, went forth with his two friends, and unloaded of its charge the litter, leaving two mantles and a robe for the covering of the body. This they placed on the litter and spread the garments over it, that not unveiled it should be borne back to Troy. Then Achilles dismissed the old king, having first pledged himself to a truce of twelve days for the funeral solemnities. As the litter approached the city and was descried from the walls, the people poured forth to gaze once more on the face of their hero. Foremost of all, the mother and the wife of Hector came, and at the sight of the lifeless body renewed their lamentations. The people wept with them, and to the going down of the sun there was no pause or abatement of their grief. The next day, preparations were made for the funeral solemnities. For nine days the people brought wood and built the pile; and on the tenth they placed the body on the summit and applied the torch, while all Troy, thronging forth, encompassed the pyre. When it had completely burned, they quenched the cinders with wine, and, collecting the bones, placed them in a golden urn, which they buried in the earth. Over the spot they reared a pile of stones. Such honors Ilium to her hero paid, And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade.[310] FOOTNOTES: [280] From Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women. [281] From Tennyson's [OE]none. [282] Euripides, Iphigenia at Aulis, Iphigenia among the Tauri. [283] From Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women. [284] Gladstone's Translations from the Iliad. [285] Iliad, 2 (Pope's translation). [286] Iliad, 3 (Pope's translation). [287] Christopher Marlowe, Doctor Faustus. [288] Iliad, 3 (Pope's translation). [289] Iliad, 6, 390 _et seq._ (Lang, Leaf, and Myers' translation). [290] Iliad, 6, 470-490 (Pope's translation). [291] Iliad, 6 (Pope's translation). [292] Iliad, 9. [293] Iliad, 11. [294] Iliad, 13. [295] Iliad, 14, 400-440. [296] Iliad, 14, 150-350. [297] Iliad, 15. [298] Iliad, 11. [299] Iliad, 16. [300] Iliad, 17. [301] Cowper's translation. The lines are often quoted. [302] Iliad, 18. [303] Iliad, 19. [304] Iliad, 20. [305] Iliad, 21. [306] Iliad, 22, 350. [307] Iliad, 23. [308] Iliad, 24, 15. [309] Iliad, 24, 330-804. [310] Iliad, 24, 804 (Pope's translation). [Illustration: AMAZON] CHAPTER XXIII THE FALL OF TROY [Illustration: FIG. 162. ACHILLES AND PENTHESILEA] =218. The Fall of Troy.= The story of the Iliad ends with the death of Hector, and it is from the Odyssey and later poems that we learn the fate of the other heroes. After the death of Hector, Troy did not immediately fall, but receiving aid from new allies, still continued its resistance. One of these allies was Memnon, the Ethiopian prince, whose story has been already told.[311] Another was Penthesilea, queen of the Amazons, who came with a band of female warriors. All the authorities attest the valor of these women and the fearful effect of their war cry. Penthesilea, having slain many of the bravest Greeks, was at last slain by Achilles. But when the hero bent over his fallen foe and contemplated her beauty, youth, and valor, he bitterly regretted his victory. Thersites, the insolent brawler and demagogue, attempting to ridicule his grief, was in consequence slain by the hero.[312] =219. The Death of Achilles.= But Achilles himself was not destined to a long life. Having by chance seen Polyxena, daughter of King Priam,--perhaps on occasion of the truce which was allowed the Trojans for the burial of Hector,--he was captivated with her charms; and to win her in marriage, it is said (but not by Homer) that he agreed to influence the Greeks to make peace with Troy. While the hero was in the temple of Apollo negotiating the marriage, Paris discharged at him a poisoned arrow,[313] which, guided by Apollo, fatally wounded him in the heel. This was his only vulnerable spot; for Thetis, having dipped him when an infant in the river Styx, had rendered every part of him invulnerable except that by which she held him.[314] =220. Contest for the Arms of Achilles.= The body of Achilles so treacherously slain was rescued by Ajax and Ulysses. Thetis directed the Greeks to bestow her son's armor on that hero who of all survivors should be judged most deserving of it. Ajax and Ulysses were the only claimants. A select number of the other chiefs were appointed to award the prize. By the will of Minerva it was awarded to Ulysses,--wisdom being thus rated above valor. Ajax, enraged, set forth from his tent to wreak vengeance upon the Atridæ and Ulysses. But the goddess robbed him of reason and turned his hand against the flocks and herds of the Argives, which he slaughtered or led captive to his tent, counting them the rivals who had wronged him. Then the cruel goddess restored to him his wits. And he, fixing his sword in the ground, prepared to take his own life: "Come and look on me, O Death, O Death,--and yet in yonder world I shall dwell with thee, speak enough with thee; And thee I call, thou light of golden day, Thou Sun, who drivest on thy glorious car, Thee, for this last time,--never more again! O Light, O sacred land that was my home; O Salamis, where stands my father's hearth, Thou glorious Athens, with thy kindred race; Ye streams and rivers here, and Troïa's plains, To you that fed my life I bid farewell; This last, last word does Ajax speak to you; All else, I speak in Hades to the dead."[3] Then, falling upon his sword, he died. So, in the words of his magnanimous foe, Ulysses, passed to the god that ruleth in gloom The best and bravest of the Argive host, Of all that came to Troïa, saving one, Achilles' self.[315] On the spot where his blood sank into the earth a hyacinth sprang up, bearing on its leaves the first two letters of his name, Ai, the Greek interjection of woe.[316] [Illustration: FIG. 163. [OE]NONE WARNING PARIS] It was now discovered that Troy could not be taken but by the aid of the arrows of Hercules. They were in possession of Philoctetes, the friend who had been with Hercules at the last and had lighted his funeral pyre. Philoctetes[317] had joined the Grecian expedition against Troy; but he accidentally wounded his foot with one of the poisoned arrows, and the smell from the wound proved so offensive that his companions carried him to the isle of Lemnos and left him there. Diomede and Ulysses, or Ulysses and Neoptolemus (son of Achilles), were now sent to induce him to rejoin the army. They succeeded. Philoctetes was cured of his wound by Machaon, and Paris was the first victim of the fatal arrows. =221. Paris and [OE]none.= In his distress Paris bethought him of one whom in his prosperity he had forgotten. This was the nymph [OE]none, whom he had married when a youth and had abandoned for the fatal beauty of Helen. [OE]none, remembering the wrongs she had suffered, refused to heal the wound; and Paris went back to Troy and died. [OE]none quickly repented and hastened after him with remedies, but came too late, and in her grief hanged herself. =222. The Palladium.= There was in Troy a celebrated statue of Minerva called the Palladium. It was said to have fallen from heaven, and the belief was that the city could not be taken so long as this statue remained within it. Ulysses and Diomede entered the city in disguise and succeeded in obtaining the Palladium, which they carried off to the Grecian camp. [Illustration: FIG. 164. THE WOODEN HORSE] =223. The Wooden Horse.= But Troy still held out. The Greeks began to despair of subduing it by force, and by advice of Ulysses they resorted to stratagem.[318] They pretended to be making preparations to abandon the siege; and a number of the ships were withdrawn and concealed behind a neighboring island. They then constructed an immense wooden horse, which they gave out was intended as a propitiatory offering to Minerva; but it was, in fact, filled with armed men. The rest of the Greeks then betook themselves to their ships and sailed away, as if for a final departure. The Trojans, seeing the encampment broken up and the fleet gone, concluded that the enemy had abandoned the siege. The gates of the city were thrown open, and the whole population issued forth, rejoicing at the long-prohibited liberty of passing freely over the scene of the late encampment. The great horse was the chief object of curiosity. Some recommended that it be taken into the city as a trophy; others felt afraid of it. While they hesitated, Laocoön, the priest of Neptune, exclaimed, "What madness, citizens, is this! Have you not learned enough of Grecian fraud to be on your guard against it? For my part, I fear the Greeks even when they offer gifts."[319] So saying, he threw his lance at the horse's side. It struck, and a hollow sound reverberated like a groan. Then perhaps the people might have taken his advice and destroyed the fatal horse with its contents, but just at that moment a group of people appeared dragging forward one who seemed a prisoner and a Greek. Stupefied with terror, the captive was brought before the chiefs. He informed them that he was a Greek, Sinon by name; and that in consequence of the malice of Ulysses, he had been left behind by his countrymen at their departure. With regard to the wooden horse, he told them that it was a propitiatory offering to Minerva, and had been made so huge for the express purpose of preventing its being carried within the city; for Calchas the prophet had told them that if the Trojans took possession of it, they would assuredly triumph over the Greeks. [Illustration: LAOCOÖN] =224. Laocoön and the Serpents.= This language turned the tide of the people's feelings, and they began to think how they might best secure the monstrous horse and the favorable auguries connected with it, when suddenly a prodigy occurred which left no room for doubt. There appeared advancing over the sea two immense serpents. They came upon the land and the crowd fled in all directions. The serpents advanced directly to the spot where Laocoön stood with his two sons. They first attacked the children, winding round their bodies and breathing pestilential breath in their faces. The father, attempting to rescue them, was next seized and involved in the serpent's coils. ... Vain The struggle; vain, against the coiling strain And gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp, The old man's clinch; the long envenomed chain Rivets the living links,--the enormous asp Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp.[320] He struggled to tear them away, but they overpowered all his efforts and strangled him and the children in their poisonous folds. The event was regarded as a clear indication of the displeasure of the gods at Laocoön's irreverent treatment of the wooden horse, which they no longer hesitated to regard as a sacred object and prepared to introduce with due solemnity into the city. They did so with songs and triumphal acclamations, and the day closed with festivity. In the night the armed men who were inclosed in the body of the horse, being let out by the traitor Sinon, opened the gates of the city to their friends who had returned under cover of the night. The city was set on fire; the people, overcome with feasting and sleep, were put to the sword, and Troy completely subdued. [Illustration: FIG. 165. THE SACK OF TROY (Left half)] =225. The Death of Priam.= Priam lived to see the downfall of his kingdom and was slain at last on the fatal night when the Greeks took the city. He had armed himself and was about to mingle with the combatants,[321] but was prevailed on by Hecuba to take refuge with his daughters and herself as a suppliant at the altar of Jupiter. While there, his youngest son, Polites, pursued by Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles, rushed in wounded and expired at the feet of his father; whereupon Priam, overcome with indignation, hurled his spear with feeble hand against Pyrrhus and was forthwith slain by him. [Illustration: FIG. 166. THE SACK OF TROY (Right half)] =226. The Survivors.=[322] Queen Hecuba and her daughter Cassandra were carried captives to Greece. Cassandra had been loved by Apollo, who gave her the gift of prophecy; but afterwards offended with her, he had rendered the gift unavailing by ordaining that her predictions should never be believed. Polyxena, another daughter, who had been loved by Achilles, was demanded by the ghost of that warrior and was sacrificed by the Greeks upon his tomb. Of the fate of the white-armed Andromache we have already spoken. She was carried off as the wife of Neoptolemus, but he was faithful to her for only a short time. After he had cast her aside she married Helenus, a brother of Hector, and still later returned to Asia Minor. =227. Helen, Menelaüs, and Agamemnon.= On the fall of Troy, Menelaüs recovered possession of his wife, who, it seems, had not ceased to love him, though she had yielded to the might of Venus and deserted him for another.[323] After the death of Paris, she aided the Greeks secretly on several occasions: in particular when Ulysses and Diomede entered the city in disguise to carry off the Palladium. She then saw and recognized Ulysses, but kept the secret and even assisted them in obtaining the image. Thus she became reconciled to Menelaüs, and they were among the first to leave the shores of Troy for their native land. But having incurred the displeasure of the gods, they were driven by storms from shore to shore of the Mediterranean, visiting Cyprus, Ph[oe]nicia, and Egypt. In Egypt they were kindly treated and presented with rich gifts, of which Helen's share was a golden spindle and a basket on wheels. ... Many yet adhere To the ancient distaff at the bosom fixed, Casting the whirling spindle as they walk. ... This was of old, in no inglorious days, The mode of spinning, when the Egyptian prince A golden distaff gave that beauteous nymph, Too beauteous Helen; no uncourtly gift.[324] Milton also alludes to a famous recipe for an invigorating draft, called Nepenthe, which the Egyptian queen gave to Helen: Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, Is of such power to stir up joy as this, To life so friendly or so cool to thirst.[325] At last, arriving in safety at Sparta, Menelaüs and Helen resumed their royal dignity, and lived and reigned in splendor; and when Telemachus, the son of Ulysses, in search of his father, arrived at Sparta, he found them celebrating the marriage of their daughter Hermione to Neoptolemus, son of Achilles. Agamemnon[326] was not so fortunate in the issue. During his absence his wife Clytemnestra had been false to him; and when his return was expected, she with her paramour, Ægisthus, son of Thyestes, laid a plan for his destruction. Cassandra warned the king, but as usual her prophecy was not regarded. While Agamemnon was bathing previous to the banquet given to celebrate his return, the conspirators murdered him. [Illustration: FIG. 167. ORESTES AND ELECTRA AT THE TOMB OF AGAMEMNON] =228. Electra and Orestes.= It was the intention of the conspirators to slay his son Orestes also, a lad not yet old enough to be an object of apprehension, but from whom, if he should be suffered to grow up, there might be danger. Electra, the sister of Orestes, saved her brother's life by sending him secretly to his uncle Strophius, king of Phocis. In the palace of Strophius, Orestes grew up with the king's son Pylades, and formed with him a friendship which has become proverbial. Electra frequently reminded her brother by messengers of the duty of avenging his father's death; he, too, when he reached maturity, consulted the oracle of Delphi, which confirmed him in the design. He therefore repaired in disguise to Argos, pretending to be a messenger from Strophius, who would announce the death of Orestes. He brought with him what purported to be the ashes of the deceased in a funeral urn. After visiting his father's tomb and sacrificing upon it, according to the rites of the ancients, he met by the way his sister Electra. Mistaking her for one of the domestics, and desirous of keeping his arrival a secret till the hour of vengeance should arrive, he produced the urn. At once his sister, believing Orestes to be really dead, took the urn from him, and, embracing it, poured forth her grief in language full of tenderness and despair. Soon a recognition was effected, and the prince, with the aid of his sister, slew both Ægisthus and Clytemnestra.[327] [Illustration: FIG. 168. ORESTES PURSUED BY FURIES] =229. Orestes pursued by the Furies.=[328] This revolting act, the slaughter of a mother by her son, though extenuated by the guilt of the victim and the express command of the gods, did not fail to awaken in the breasts of the ancients the same abhorrence that it does in ours. The Eumenides seized upon Orestes and drove him frantic from land to land. In these wanderings Pylades accompanied him and watched over him. At length in answer to a second appeal to the oracle, Orestes was directed to go to the temple of the Tauri in Scythia and to bring thence a statue of Diana which was believed to have fallen from heaven. Accordingly the friends went to the Tauric Chersonese. Since there the barbarous people were accustomed to sacrifice to the goddess all strangers who fell into their hands, the two friends were seized and carried bound to the temple to be made victims. But the priestess of Diana of the Tauri was no other than Iphigenia, the sister of Orestes, who had been snatched away by Diana at the moment when she was about to be sacrificed. Ascertaining from the prisoners who they were, Iphigenia disclosed herself to them; and the three made their escape with the statue of the goddess, and returned to Mycenæ.[329] [Illustration: FIG. 169. ORESTES AND PYLADES BEFORE THE KING OF THE TAURI] =230. His Purification.= But Orestes was not yet relieved from the vengeance of the Erinyes. Finally, he took refuge with Minerva at Athens. The goddess afforded him protection and appointed the court of Areopagus to decide his fate. The Erinyes brought their accusation, and Orestes pleaded the command of the Delphic oracle as his excuse. When the court voted and the voices were equally divided, Orestes was acquitted by the command of Minerva. He was then purified with plentiful blood of swine. FOOTNOTES: [311] § 128. [312] Pausanias, 5, 11, § 2; and Sophocles, Philoctetes, 445. [313] Virgil, Æneid, 6, 57. [314] Statius, Achilleid, 1, 269. [315] Sophocles, Ajax. [316] See Commentary. [317] Servius Honoratus, Commentary on Æneid (3, 402). According to Sophocles (Philoctetes), the wound was occasioned by the bite of a serpent that guarded the shrine of the nymph Chryse, on an islet of the same name near Lemnos. [318] Virgil, Æneid, 2. [319] _Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes._--Æneid. 2, 49. [320] Byron, Childe Harold. [321] Hecuba's exclamation, "Not such aid nor such defenders does the time require," has become proverbial. _Non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istis_ _Tempus eget._--Æneid, 2, 521. [322] Euripides,--Troades, Hecuba, Andromache. [323] According to Euripides (Helen), and Stesichorus, it was a semblance of Helen that Paris won; the real Helen went to Egypt. [324] Dyer, The Fleece. [325] Milton, Comus. [326] Æschylus, Agamemnon. [327] Æschylus, Choëphori; Sophocles, Electra; Euripides,--Electra, Orestes. [328] Æschylus, Eumenides. [329] Euripides, Iphigenia among the Tauri. CHAPTER XXIV THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES [Illustration: FIG. 170. ULYSSES] As one that for a weary space has lain Lulled by the song of Circe and her wine In gardens near the pale of Proserpine, Where that Ææan isle forgets the main, And only the low lutes of love complain, And only shadows of wan lovers pine,-- As such an one were glad to know the brine Salt on his lips, and the large air again, So, gladly, from the songs of modern speech Men turn and see the stars, and feel the free Shrill wind beyond the close of heavy flowers; And, through the music of the languid hours, They hear like ocean on a western beach The surge and thunder of the Odyssey.[330] =231. From Troy to Phæacia.= The Odyssey of Homer narrates the wanderings of Ulysses (=Odysseus=) in his return from Troy to his own kingdom, Ithaca.[331] From Troy the vessels first made land at Ismarus, city of the Ciconians, where, in a skirmish with the inhabitants, Ulysses lost six men from each ship.[332] [Illustration: THE OUTER GEOGRAPHY OF THE ODYSSEY ACCORDING TO GLADSTONE.] =232. The Lotus-eaters.= Sailing thence they were overtaken by a storm which drove them for nine days till they reached the country of the Lotos-eaters. Here, after watering, Ulysses sent three of his men to discover who the inhabitants were. These men on coming among the Lotos-eaters were kindly entertained by them and were given some of their own food, the lotos plant, to eat. The effect of this food was such that those who partook of it lost all thought of home and wished to remain in that country. It was by main force that Ulysses dragged these men away, and he was even obliged to tie them under the benches of his ship. Tennyson in The Lotos-eaters has fittingly expressed the dreamy, languid feeling which the lotus-food is said to have produced. ... How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, With half-shut eyes ever to seem Falling asleep in a half-dream! To dream and dream, like yonder amber light Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos, day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; To muse and brood and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heap'd over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass! Dear is the memory of our wedded lives, And dear the last embraces of our wives And their warm tears: but all hath suffer'd change; For surely now our household hearths are cold: Our sons inherit us: our looks are strange: And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy. ... But, propt on beds of amaranth and moly, How sweet (while warm airs lull us, blowing lowly) With half-dropt eyelid still, Beneath a heaven dark and holy, To watch the long bright river drawing slowly His waters from the purple hill-- To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro' the thick-twined vine-- To watch the emerald-color'd water falling Thro' many a wov'n acanthus-wreath divine! Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine, Only to hear were sweet, stretch'd out beneath the pine. The Lotos blooms below the barren peak: The Lotos blows by every winding creek: All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone: Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown. We have had enough of action, and of motion we, Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free, Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea. Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.... =233. The Cyclopes.= They next arrived at the country of the Cyclopes. The Cyclopes[333] inhabited an island of which they were the only possessors. They dwelt in caves and fed on the wild productions of the island and on what their flocks yielded, for they were shepherds. Ulysses left the main body of his ships at anchor, and with one vessel went to the Cyclopes' island to explore for supplies. He landed with his companions, carrying with them a jar of wine for a present. Coming to a large cave they entered it, and, finding no one within, examined its contents. They found it stored with the riches of the flock, quantities of cheese, pails and bowls of milk, lambs and kids in their pens, all in good order. Presently arrived the master of the cave, Polyphemus, bearing an immense bundle of firewood, which he threw down before the cavern's mouth. He then drove into the cave the sheep and goats to be milked, and, entering, rolled to the cave's mouth an enormous rock, that twenty oxen could not draw. Next he sat down and milked his ewes, preparing a part for cheese and setting the rest aside for his customary drink. Then turning round his one huge eye he discerned the strangers, and growled out at them, demanding who they were and where from. Ulysses replied most humbly, stating that they were Greeks from the great expedition that had lately won so much glory in the conquest of Troy, that they were now on their way home, and finished by imploring his hospitality in the name of the gods. Polyphemus deigned no answer, but reaching out his hand seized two of the men, whom he hurled against the side of the cave and dashed out their brains. He proceeded to devour them with great relish, and having made a hearty meal, stretched himself on the floor to sleep. Ulysses was tempted to seize the opportunity and plunge his sword into him as he slept, but recollected that it would only expose them all to certain destruction, as the rock with which the giant had closed up the door was far beyond their power to remove, and they would therefore be in hopeless imprisonment. Next morning the giant seized two more of the men and dispatched them in the same manner as their companions, feasting on their flesh till no fragment was left. He then moved away the rock from the door, drove out his flocks, and went out, carefully replacing the barrier after him. When he was gone Ulysses planned how he might take vengeance for his murdered friends and effect his escape with his surviving companions. He made his men prepare a massive bar of wood cut by the Cyclops for a staff, which they found in the cave. They sharpened the end of the staff and seasoned it in the fire, and hid it under the straw on the cavern floor. Then four of the boldest were selected, with whom Ulysses joined himself as a fifth. The Cyclops came home at evening, rolled away the stone, and drove in his flock as usual. After milking them and making his arrangements as before, he seized two more of Ulysses' companions, dashed their brains out, and made his evening meal upon them as he had on the others. After he had supped, Ulysses approaching him handed him a bowl of wine, saying, "Cyclops, this is wine; taste and drink after thy meal of man's flesh." He took and drank it, and was hugely delighted with it, and called for more. Ulysses supplied him once and again, which pleased the giant so much that he promised him as a favor that he should be the last of the party devoured. He asked his name, to which Ulysses replied, "My name is Noman." After his supper the giant sought his repose, and was soon sound asleep. Then Ulysses with his four select friends held the end of the stake in the fire till it was one burning coal, then poising it exactly above the giant's only eye, they plunged it deep into the socket, twirling it round as a carpenter does his auger. The howling monster with his outcry filled the cavern, and Ulysses with his aids nimbly got out of his way and concealed themselves in the cave. He, bellowing, called aloud on all the Cyclopes dwelling in the caves around him, far and near. They, on his cry, flocked round the den, and inquired what grievous hurt had caused him to sound such an alarm and break their slumbers. He replied, "O friends, I die, and Noman gives the blow." They answered, "If no man hurts thee, it is the stroke of Jove, and thou must bear it." So saying, they left him groaning. [Illustration: FIG. 171. BORING OUT THE CYCLOPS' EYE] Next morning the Cyclops rolled away the stone to let his flock out to pasture, but planted himself in the door of the cave to feel of all as they went out, that Ulysses and his men should not escape with them. But Ulysses had made his men harness the rams of the flock three abreast, with osiers which they found on the floor of the cave. To the middle ram of the three one of the Greeks suspended himself, so protected by the exterior rams on either side. As they passed, the giant felt of the animals' backs and sides, but never thought of their bellies; so the men all passed safe, Ulysses himself being on the last one that passed. When they had got a few paces from the cavern, Ulysses and his friends released themselves from their rams and drove a good part of the flock down to the shore to their boat. They put them aboard with all haste, then pushed off from the shore; and when at a safe distance Ulysses shouted out, "Cyclops, the gods have well requited thee for thy atrocious deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom thou owest thy shameful loss of sight." The Cyclops, hearing this, seized a rock that projected from the side of the mountain, and rending it from its bed, he lifted it high in the air, then exerting all his force, hurled it in the direction of the voice. Down came the mass, just forward of the vessel. The ocean, at the plunge of the huge rock, heaved the ship toward Polyphemus; but a second rock which he hurled, striking aft, propelled them fortunately in the direction that they desired to take. Ulysses was about to hail the giant again, but his friends besought him not to do so. He could not forbear, however, letting the giant know that they had escaped his missile, but waited till they had reached a safer distance than before. The giant answered them with curses, while Ulysses and his friends, plying their oars vigorously, regained their companions. [Illustration: FIG. 172. ULYSSES AND TWO COMPANIONS UNDER RAMS] =234. The Bag of Winds.= Ulysses next arrived at the island of Æolus.[334] He treated Ulysses hospitably, and at his departure gave him, tied up in a leathern bag with a silver string, such winds as might be hurtful and dangerous, commanding fair winds to blow the barks toward their country. Nine days they sped before the wind, and all that time Ulysses had stood at the helm without sleep. At last quite exhausted he lay down to sleep. While he slept, the crew conferred together about the mysterious bag, and concluded it must contain treasures given by the hospitable King Æolus to their commander. Tempted to secure some portion for themselves, they loosed the string, when immediately the winds rushed forth. The ships were driven far from their course and back again to the island they had just left. Æolus, indignant at their folly, refused to assist them further, and they were obliged to labor over their course once more by means of their oars. =235. The Læstrygonians.= Their next adventure was with the barbarous tribe of Læstrygonians. The vessels all pushed into the harbor, tempted by the secure appearance of the cove, completely landlocked; only Ulysses moored his vessel without. As soon as the Læstrygonians found the ships completely in their power, they attacked them, heaving huge stones which broke and overturned them, while with their spears they dispatched the seamen as they struggled in the water. All the vessels with their crews were destroyed, except Ulysses' own ship which had remained outside. He, finding no safety but in flight, exhorted his men to ply their oars vigorously; and they escaped. =236. The Isle of Ææa.= With grief for their slain companions mixed with joy at their own escape, they pursued their way till they arrived at the Ææan isle, where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the sun. Landing here, Ulysses climbed a hill and, gazing round, saw no signs of habitation except in one spot at the center of the island, where he perceived a palace embowered with trees. He sent forward one half of his crew, under the command of Eurylochus, to see what prospect of hospitality they might find. As they approached the palace, they found themselves surrounded by lions, tigers, and wolves, not fierce, but tamed by Circe's art, for she was a powerful magician. These animals had once been men, but had been changed by Circe's enchantments into the forms of beasts. The sounds of soft music were heard from within, and a sweet female voice singing. Eurylochus called aloud, and the goddess came forth and invited them in; they all gladly entered except Eurylochus, who suspected danger. The goddess conducted her guests to a seat, and had them served with wine and other delicacies. When they had feasted heartily, she touched them one by one with her wand, and they became immediately changed into swine, in "head, body, voice, and bristles," yet with their intellects as before. She shut them in her styes and supplied them with acorns and such other things as swine love. Eurylochus hurried back to the ship and told the tale. Ulysses thereupon determined to go himself and try if by any means he might deliver his companions. As he strode onward alone, he met a youth who addressed him familiarly, appearing to be acquainted with his adventures. He announced himself as Mercury, and informed Ulysses of the arts of Circe and of the danger of approaching her. As Ulysses was not to be dissuaded from his attempt, Mercury provided him with a sprig of the plant Moly, of wonderful power to resist sorceries, and instructed him how to act. [Illustration: FIG. 173. THE CASTLE OF CIRCE] Meanwhile the companions of Ulysses made mournful plaint to their cruel mistress: Huddling they came, with shag sides caked of mire,-- With hoofs fresh sullied from the troughs o'er-turned,-- With wrinkling snouts,--yet eyes in which desire Of some strange thing unutterably burned, Unquenchable; and still where'er She turned They rose about her, striving each o'er each, With restless, fierce importuning that yearned Through those brute masks some piteous tale to teach, Yet lacked the words thereto, denied the power of speech.... ... "If swine we be,--if we indeed be swine, Daughter of Persé, make us swine indeed, Well-pleased on litter-straw to lie supine,-- Well-pleased on mast and acorn-shales to feed, Stirred by all instincts of the bestial breed; But O Unmerciful! O Pitiless! Leave us not thus with sick men's hearts to bleed!-- To waste long days in yearning, dumb distress, And memory of things gone, and utter hopelessness! ... "Make thou us men again,--if men but groping That dark Hereafter which th' Olympians keep; Make thou us men again,--if men but hoping Behind death's doors security of sleep;-- For yet to laugh is somewhat, and to sleep;-- To feel delight of living, and to plow The salt-blown acres of the shoreless deep;-- Better,--yea better far all these than bow Foul faces to foul earth, and yearn--as we do now!" So they in speech unsyllabled. But She, The fair-tressed Goddess, born to be their bane, Uplifting straight her wand of ivory, Compelled them groaning to the styes again; Where they in hopeless bitterness were fain To rend the oaken woodwork as before, And tear the troughs in impotence of pain,-- Not knowing, they, that even at the door Divine Odysseus stood,--as Hermes told of yore.[335] Ulysses, reaching the palace, was courteously received by Circe, who entertained him as she had done his companions, but after he had eaten and drunk, touched him with her wand, saying, "Hence, seek the stye and wallow with thy friends." But he, instead of obeying, drew his sword and rushed upon her with fury in his countenance. She fell on her knees and begged for mercy. He dictated a solemn oath that she would release his companions and practice no further harm against him or them; and she repeated it, at the same time promising to dismiss them all in safety after hospitably entertaining them. She was as good as her word. The men were restored to their shapes, the rest of the crew summoned from the shore, and all magnificently entertained day after day, till Ulysses seemed to have forgotten his native land and to have reconciled himself to an inglorious life of ease and pleasure. =237. Ulysses visits Hades.= At length his companions recalled him to nobler sentiments, and he received their admonition gratefully. Circe, won over by his prayers, consented to send him on his homeward way. But she warned him that first he must perform another journey, must visit the Underworld and there learn from the shade of Tiresias, the blind prophet of Thebes, the way and measure of his path, and how to proceed to Ithaca over the teeming deep. "But who will guide us?" queried Ulysses in amaze; "for no man ever yet sailed to hell in a black ship." "Son of Laërtes," replied the Goddess, "Ulysses of many devices, nay, trouble not thyself for want of a guide, by thy ship abiding, but set up the mast and spread abroad the white sails and sit thee down; and the breeze of the North Wind will bear thy vessel on her way. But when thou hast now sailed in thy ship across the stream Oceanus where is a waste shore and the groves of Persephone, even tall poplar trees and willows that shed their fruit before the season, there beach thy ship by deep-eddying Oceanus, but go thyself to the dank house of Hades. Thereby into Acheron flows Pyriphlegethon, and Cocytus, a branch of the water of the Styx; and there is a rock, and the meeting of the two roaring waters. There dig a trench and pour a drink offering to all the dead, mead and sweet wine and water, sprinkling white meal thereon. And when thou hast prayed to them, offer up a ram and a black ewe. Then will many spirits come to thee of the dead that be departed; but thou shalt draw thy sharp sword and suffer them not to approach the blood, ere thou hast word of Tiresias."[336] So Ulysses and his companions did as they were bid. And the ship came to the limits of the world, to the deep-flowing Oceanus. There is the land and city of the Cimmerians, where no ray of sunshine ever falls, but deadly night is outspread over miserable mortals. And there Ulysses and those with him performed the drink offering and the prayer and the sacrifice; and Ulysses fended off the spirits of the dead from the blood until the soul of the Theban prophet arrived. And that one, having drunk of the dark blood, declared unto Ulysses the future of his way: how the Earthshaker, god of the waters, should oppose him, but how he should win home without further disaster if, when passing the isle Thrinacia, he would but restrain the spirit of his men so that they should do no injury to the cattle of the Sun grazing thereon. If, however, these cattle were not respected but hurt, then there should follow ruin for both ship and men; and Ulysses himself on the ship of strangers should return late in time to his home, to find sorrows there, proud men wasting his patrimony and wooing his godlike wife to wed her. But that he should avenge their violence, and settle his affairs at home, and then betake himself again to wandering; and that from the sea should his own death come,--"the gentlest death that may be, which shall end thee fordone with smooth old age; and the folk shall dwell happily around thee." In the land of Hades, Ulysses saw also the shade of his mother, and spoke with her of his father and of Penelope, his wife, and of his son Telemachus. And he saw also the shades of Antiope and Alcmene and Phædra and Procris; and of Agamemnon, and Achilles, and Ajax, the son of Telamon, and of many others, and spoke with them of their own fates and of the affairs of the upper world. =238. The Sirens.= Returning from the abode of the shades, Ulysses revisited the Ææan isle and recounted to Circe his adventures and the wondrous visions and the laws of Hell. She in return speeded his homeward voyage, instructing him particularly how to pass safely by the coast of the Sirens.[337] These nymphs had the power, as has been already said, of charming by their song all who heard them, so that mariners were impelled to cast themselves into the sea to destruction. Circe directed Ulysses to stop the ears of his seamen with wax, so that they should not hear the strain; to have himself bound to the mast, and to enjoin his people, whatever he might say or do, by no means to release him till they should have passed the Sirens' island. Ulysses obeyed these directions. As they approached the Sirens' island, the sea was calm, and over the waters came notes of music so ravishing and attractive that Ulysses struggled to get loose and, by cries and signs to his people, begged to be released; but they, obedient to his previous orders, sprang forward and bound him still faster. They held on their course, and the music grew fainter till it ceased to be heard, when with joy Ulysses gave his companions the signal to unseal their ears; and they relieved him from his bonds. It is said that one of the Sirens, Parthenope, in grief at the escape of Ulysses drowned herself. Her body was cast up on the Italian shore where now stands the city of Naples, in early times called by the Siren's name. [Illustration: FIG. 174. ULYSSES AND THE SIRENS] =239. Scylla and Charybdis.= Ulysses had been warned by Circe of the two monsters Scylla and Charybdis. We have already met with Scylla in the myth of Glaucus. She dwelt in a cave high up on the cliff, from whence she was accustomed to thrust forth her long necks (for she had six heads), and in each of her mouths to seize one of the crew of every vessel passing within reach. The other terror, Charybdis, was a gulf nearly on a level with the water. Thrice each day the water rushed into a frightful chasm, and thrice was disgorged. Any vessel coming near the whirlpool when the tide was rushing in must inevitably be engulfed; not Neptune himself could save it. On approaching the haunt of the dread monsters, Ulysses kept strict watch to discover them. The roar of the waters as Charybdis engulfed them gave warning at a distance, but Scylla could nowhere be discerned. While Ulysses and his men watched with anxious eyes the dreadful whirlpool, they were not equally on their guard from the attack of Scylla,[338] and the monster, darting forth her snaky heads, caught six of his men and bore them away shrieking to her den. Ulysses was unable to afford any assistance. [Illustration: FIG. 175. ULYSSES AND SCYLLA] =240. The Cattle of the Sun.= Both Tiresias and Circe had warned him of another danger. After passing Scylla and Charybdis the next land he would make was Thrinacia, an island whereon were pastured the cattle of Helios, the Sun, tended by his daughters Lampetia and Phaëthusa. These flocks must not be violated, whatever the wants of the voyagers might be. If this injunction were transgressed, destruction was sure to fall on the offenders. Ulysses would willingly have passed the island of the Sun without stopping, but his companions so urgently pleaded for the rest and refreshment that would be derived from anchoring and passing the night on shore, that Ulysses yielded. He made them swear, however, not to touch the sacred flocks and herds, but to content themselves with what provision they yet had left of the supply which Circe had put on board. So long as this supply lasted the people kept their oath; but contrary winds detained them at the island for a month, and after consuming all their stock of provisions, they were forced to rely upon the birds and fishes they could catch. Famine pressed them, and at last, in the absence of Ulysses, they slew some of the cattle, vainly attempting to make amends for the deed by offering from them a portion to the offended powers. Ulysses, on his return to the shore, was horror-struck at perceiving what they had done, and the more so on account of the portentous signs which followed. The skins crept on the ground, and the joints of meat lowed on the spits while roasting. [Illustration: FLYING MERCURY] The wind becoming fair, they sailed from the island. They had not gone far when the weather changed, and a storm of thunder and lightning ensued. A stroke of lightning shattered their mast, which in its fall killed the pilot. At last the vessel itself went to pieces. The keel and mast floating side by side, Ulysses formed of them a raft to which he clung; and, the wind changing, the waves bore him to Calypso's island. All the rest of the crew perished. =241. Calypso's Island.= Calypso, a sea-nymph, received Ulysses hospitably, entertained him magnificently, became enamored of him, and wished to retain him forever, offering him immortality. He remained with her seven long years. But he persisted in his resolution to return to his country and his wife and son.[339] Calypso at last received the command of Jove to dismiss him. Mercury brought the message to her and found her in her grotto. A garden vine, luxuriant on all sides, Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hung Profuse; four fountains of serenest lymph, Their sinuous course pursuing side by side, Strayed all around, and everywhere appeared Meadows of softest verdure, purpled o'er With violets; it was a scene to fill A god from heaven with wonder and delight.[340] Calypso, with much reluctance, proceeded to obey the commands of Jupiter. She supplied Ulysses with the means of constructing a raft, provisioned it well for him, and gave him a favoring gale. He sped on his course prosperously for many days, till at last, when in sight of land, a storm arose that broke his mast and threatened to rend the raft asunder. In this crisis he was seen by a compassionate sea-nymph, Leucothea, who, in the form of a cormorant, alighted on the raft and presented him with a girdle, directing him to bind it beneath his breast, that, if he should be compelled to trust himself to the waves, it might buoy him up and enable him to reach the land. =242. The Land of the Phæacians.= Ulysses clung to the raft so long as its timbers held together, and when it no longer yielded him support, binding the girdle around him, he swam. Minerva smoothed the billows before him and sent him a wind that rolled the waves towards the shore. The surf beat high on the rocks and seemed to forbid approach; but at length finding calm water at the mouth of a gentle stream, he landed, spent with toil, breathless and speechless and almost dead. Reviving after some time, he kissed the soil, rejoicing, yet at a loss what course to take. At a short distance he perceived a wood, to which he turned his steps. There finding a covert sheltered by intermingling branches alike from the sun and the rain, he collected a pile of leaves and formed a bed, on which he stretched himself, and, heaping the leaves over him, fell asleep. The land where he was thrown was Scheria, the country of the Phæacians.[341] These people dwelt originally near the Cyclopes; but, being oppressed by that savage race, they migrated to the isle of Scheria under the conduct of Nausithoüs, their king. They were, the poet tells us, a people akin to the gods, who appeared manifestly and feasted among them when they offered sacrifices, and did not conceal themselves from solitary wayfarers when they met them. They had abundance of wealth and lived in the enjoyment of it undisturbed by the alarms of war; for as they dwelt remote from gain-seeking man, no enemy ever approached their shores, and they did not even require to make use of bows and quivers. Their chief employment was navigation. Their ships, which went with the velocity of birds, were endued with intelligence; they knew every port and needed no pilot. Alcinoüs, the son of Nausithoüs, was now their king, a wise and just sovereign, beloved by his people. Now it happened that the very night on which Ulysses was cast ashore on the Phæacian island, and while he lay sleeping on his bed of leaves, Nausicaa, the daughter of the king, had a dream sent by Minerva, reminding her that her wedding day might not be far distant, and that it would be but a prudent preparation for that event to have a general washing of the clothes of the family. This was no slight affair, for the fountains were at some distance and the garments must be carried thither. On awaking, the princess hastened to her parents to tell them what was on her mind,--not alluding to her wedding day, but finding other reasons equally good. Her father readily assented and ordered the grooms to furnish forth a wagon for the purpose. The clothes were put therein, and the queen, her mother, placed in the wagon likewise an abundant supply of food and wine. The princess took her seat and plied the lash, her attendant virgins following her on foot. Arrived at the riverside they turned out the mules to graze, and unlading the carriage, bore the garments down to the water, and, working with cheerfulness and alacrity, soon dispatched their labor. Then having spread the garments on the shore to dry, and having themselves bathed, they sat down to enjoy their meal; after which they rose and amused themselves with a game of ball, the princess singing to them while they played. But when they had refolded the apparel and were about to resume their way to the town, Minerva caused the ball thrown by the princess to fall into the water, whereat they all screamed, and Ulysses awaked at the sound. Utterly destitute of clothing, he discovered that only a few bushes were interposed between him and a group of young maidens, whom, by their deportment and attire, he discovered to be not mere peasant girls, but of a higher class. Breaking off a leafy branch from a tree, he held it before him and stepped out from the thicket. The virgins at sight of him fled in all directions, Nausicaa alone excepted, for her Minerva aided and endowed with courage and discernment. Ulysses, standing respectfully aloof, told his sad case, and besought the fair object (whether queen or goddess he professed he knew not) for food and clothing. The princess replied courteously, promising present relief and her father's hospitality when he should become acquainted with the facts. She called back her scattered maidens, chiding their alarm and reminding them that the Phæacians had no enemies to fear. This man, she told them, was an unhappy wanderer, whom it was a duty to cherish, for the poor and the stranger are from Jove. She bade them bring food, and the garments of some of her brothers that were among the contents of the wagon. When this was done, and Ulysses retiring to a sheltered place had washed his body free from the sea-foam, and clothed himself, and eaten, Pallas dilated his form and diffused grace over his ample chest and manly brows. The princess, seeing him, was filled with admiration and scrupled not to say to her damsels that she wished the gods would send her such a husband. To Ulysses she recommended that he repair to the city, following herself and her train so far as the way lay through the fields; but when they should approach the city, she desired that he no longer be seen in her company, for she feared the remarks which rude and vulgar people might make on seeing her return accompanied by such a gallant stranger. To avoid this she directed him to stop at a grove adjoining the city, in which were a farm and garden belonging to the king. After allowing time for the princess and her companions to reach the city, he was then to pursue his way thither, and should be easily guided by any he might meet to the royal abode. Ulysses obeyed the directions and in due time proceeded to the city, on approaching which he met a young woman bearing forth a pitcher for water.[342] It was Minerva who had assumed that form. Ulysses accosted her and desired to be directed to the palace of Alcinoüs, the king. The maiden replied respectfully, offering to be his guide; for the palace, she informed him, stood near her father's dwelling. Under the guidance of the goddess and, by her power, enveloped in a cloud which shielded him from observation, Ulysses passed among the busy crowd and with wonder observed their harbor, their ships, their forum (the resort of heroes), and their battlements, till they came to the palace, where the goddess, having first given him some information of the country, king, and people he was about to meet, left him. Ulysses, before entering the courtyard of the palace, stood and surveyed the scene. Its splendor astonished him. Brazen walls stretched from the entrance to the interior house, of which the doors were gold, the doorposts silver, the lintels silver ornamented with gold. On either side were figures of mastiffs wrought in gold and silver, standing in rows as if to guard the approach. Along the walls were seats spread through all their length with mantles of finest texture, the work of Phæacian maidens. On these seats the princes sat and feasted, while golden statues of graceful youths held in their hands lighted torches which shed radiance over the scene. Full fifty female menials served in household offices, some employed to grind the corn, others to wind off the purple wool or ply the loom. For the Phæacian women as far exceeded all other women in household arts as the mariners of that country did the rest of mankind in the management of ships. Without the court a spacious garden lay, four acres in extent. In it grew many a lofty tree, pomegranate, pear, apple, fig, and olive. Neither winter's cold nor summer's drought arrested their growth. The languid sunset, mother of roses,[343] Lingers, a light on the magic seas, The wide fire flames, as a flower uncloses, Heavy with odor, and loose to the breeze. The red rose clouds, without law or leader, Gather and float in the airy plain; The nightingale sings to the dewy cedar, The cedar scatters his scent to the main. The strange flowers' perfume turns to singing, Heard afar over moonlit seas: The Siren's song, grown faint in winging, Falls in scent on the cedar-trees. As waifs blown out of the sunset, flying, Purple, and rosy, and gray, the birds Brighten the air with their wings; their crying Wakens a moment the weary herds. Butterflies flit from the fairy garden, Living blossoms of flying flowers; Never the nights with winter harden, Nor moons wax keen in this land of ours. Great fruits, fragrant, green and golden, Gleam in the green, and droop and fall; Blossom, and bud, and flower unfolden, Swing and cling to the garden wall. Deep in the woods as twilight darkens, Glades are red with the scented fire; Far in the dells the white maid hearkens Song and sigh of the heart's desire. Ulysses stood gazing in admiration, unobserved himself, for the cloud which Minerva spread around him still shielded him. At length having sufficiently observed the scene, he advanced with rapid step into the hall where the chiefs and senators were assembled, pouring libation to Mercury, whose worship followed the evening meal. Just then Minerva dissolved the cloud and disclosed him to the assembled chiefs. Advancing to the place where the queen sat, he knelt at her feet and implored her favor and assistance to enable him to return to his native country. Then withdrawing, he seated himself in the manner of suppliants, at the hearth-side. For a time none spoke. At last an aged statesman, addressing the king, said, "It is not fit that a stranger who asks our hospitality should be kept waiting in suppliant guise, none welcoming him. Let him, therefore, be led to a seat among us and supplied with food and wine." At these words the king, rising, gave his hand to Ulysses and led him to a seat, displacing thence his own son to make room for the stranger. Food and wine were set before him and he ate and refreshed himself. The king then dismissed his guests, notifying them that the next day he would call them to council to consider what had best be done for the stranger. When the guests had departed and Ulysses was left alone with the king and queen, the queen asked him who he was and whence he came, and (recognizing the clothes which he wore as those which her maidens and herself had made) from whom he received those garments. He told them of his residence in Calypso's isle and his departure thence; of the wreck of his raft, his escape by swimming, and of the relief afforded by the princess. The parents heard approvingly, and the king promised to furnish a ship in which his guest might return to his own land. The next day the assembled chiefs confirmed the promise of the king.[344] A bark was prepared and a crew of stout rowers selected, and all betook themselves to the palace, where a bounteous repast was provided. After the feast the king proposed that the young men should show their guest their proficiency in manly sports, and all went forth to the arena for games of running, wrestling, and other exercises. After all had done their best, Ulysses being challenged to show what he could do, at first declined, but being taunted by one of the youths, seized a quoit of weight far heavier than any the Phæacians had thrown, and sent it farther than the utmost throw of theirs. All were astonished and viewed their guest with greatly increased respect. After the games they returned to the hall, and the herald led in Demodocus, the blind bard,-- Dear to the Muse, Who yet appointed him both good and ill, Took from him sight, but gave him strains divine. He took for his theme the Wooden Horse, by means of which the Greeks found entrance into Troy. Apollo inspired him, and he sang so feelingly the terrors and the exploits of that eventful time that all were delighted, but Ulysses was moved to tears. Observing which, Alcinoüs, when the song was done, demanded of him why at the mention of Troy his sorrows awaked. Had he lost there a father, or brother, or any dear friend? Ulysses replied by announcing himself by his true name, and, at their request, recounted the adventures which had befallen him since his departure from Troy. This narrative raised the sympathy and admiration of the Phæacians for their guest to the highest pitch. The king proposed that all the chiefs should present him with a gift, himself setting the example. They obeyed, and vied with one another in loading the illustrious stranger with costly gifts. The next day Ulysses set sail in the Phæacian vessel, and in a short time arrived safe at Ithaca, his own island.[345] When the vessel touched the strand he was asleep. The mariners, without waking him, carried him on shore, and landed with him the chest containing his presents, and then sailed away. Neptune was so displeased at the conduct of the Phæacians in thus rescuing Ulysses from his hands, that, on the return of the vessel to port, he transformed it into a rock, right opposite the mouth of the harbor. =243. Fate of the Suitors.= Ulysses had now been away from Ithaca for twenty years, and when he awoke he did not recognize his native land: "Some god hath cast me forth upon this land, And O! what land? So thick is the sea mist, All is phantasmal. What king ruleth here? What folk inhabit?--cruel unto strangers, Or hospitable? The gods have lied to me When they foretold I should see Ithaca. This is some swimming and Cimmerian isle, With melancholy people of the mist. Ah! Ithaca, I shall not see thee more!"[346] But Minerva, appearing in the form of a young shepherd, informed him where he was, and told him the state of things at his palace. More than a hundred nobles of Ithaca and of the neighboring islands had been for years suing for the hand of Penelope, his wife, imagining him dead, and lording it over his palace and people as if they were owners of both. Penelope was one of those mythic heroines whose beauties were not those of person only, but of character and conduct as well. She was the niece of Tyndareus,--being the daughter of his brother Icarius, a Spartan prince. Ulysses, seeking her in marriage, had won her over all competitors. But, when the moment came for the bride to leave her father's house, Icarius, unable to bear the thoughts of parting with his daughter, tried to persuade her to remain with him and not accompany her husband to Ithaca. Ulysses gave Penelope her choice, to stay or go with him. Penelope made no reply, but dropped her veil over her face. Icarius urged her no further, but when she was gone erected a statue to Modesty on the spot where they had parted. Ulysses and Penelope had not enjoyed their union more than a year when it was interrupted by the events which called Ulysses to the Trojan War. During his long absence, and when it was doubtful whether he still lived, and highly improbable that he would ever return, Penelope was importuned by numerous suitors, from whom there seemed no refuge but in choosing one of them for her husband. She, however, employed every art to gain time, still hoping for Ulysses' return. One of her arts of delay was by engaging in the preparation of a robe for the funeral canopy of Laërtes, her husband's father. She pledged herself to make her choice among the suitors when the web was finished. During the day she worked at it, but in the night she undid the work of the day. [Illustration: FIG. 176. PENELOPE AND TELEMACHUS] That Ulysses on returning might be able to take vengeance upon the suitors, it was important that he should not be recognized. Minerva accordingly metamorphosed him into an unsightly beggar, and as such he was kindly received by Eumæus, the swineherd, a faithful servant of his house.[347] Telemachus, his son, had for some time been absent in quest of his father, visiting the courts of the other kings who had returned from the Trojan expedition. While on the search, he received counsel from Minerva to return home.[348] He arrived at this juncture, and sought Eumæus to learn something of the state of affairs at the palace before presenting himself among the suitors. Finding a stranger with Eumæus, he treated him courteously, though in the garb of a beggar, and promised him assistance. Eumæus was sent to the palace to inform Penelope privately of her son's arrival, for caution was necessary with regard to the suitors, who, as Telemachus had learned, were plotting to intercept and kill him. When the swineherd was gone, Minerva presented herself to Ulysses and directed him to make himself known to his son. At the same time she touched him, removed at once from him the appearance of age and penury, and gave him the aspect of vigorous manhood that belonged to him. Telemachus viewed him with astonishment, and at first thought he must be more than mortal. But Ulysses announced himself as his father, and accounted for the change of appearance by explaining that it was Minerva's doing. Then threw Telemachus His arms around his father's neck and wept. Desire intense of lamentation seized On both; soft murmurs uttering, each indulged His grief.[349] The father and son took counsel together how they should get the better of the suitors and punish them for their outrages. It was arranged that Telemachus should proceed to the palace and mingle with the suitors as formerly; that Ulysses should also go as a beggar, a character which in the rude old times had different privileges from what we concede to it now. As traveler and storyteller, the beggar was admitted in the halls of chieftains and often treated like a guest; though sometimes, also, no doubt, with contumely. Ulysses charged his son not to betray, by any display of unusual interest in him, that he knew him to be other than he seemed, and even if he saw him insulted or beaten, not to interpose otherwise than he might do for any stranger. At the palace they found the usual scene of feasting and riot going on. The suitors pretended to receive Telemachus with joy at his return, though secretly mortified at the failure of their plots to take his life. The old beggar was permitted to enter and provided with a portion from the table. A touching incident occurred as Ulysses entered the courtyard of the palace. An old dog lay in the yard almost dead with age, and seeing a stranger enter, raised his head, with ears erect. It was Argus, Ulysses' own dog, that he had in other days often led to the chase. Soon as he perceived Long-lost Ulysses nigh, down fell his ears Clapped close, and with his tail glad sign he gave Of gratulation, impotent to rise, And to approach his master as of old. Ulysses, noting him, wiped off a tear Unmarked. ... Then his destiny released Old Argus, soon as he had lived to see Ulysses in the twentieth year restored.[350] [Illustration: FIG. 177. ULYSSES RECOGNIZED BY EURYCLEA] As Ulysses sat eating his portion in the hall, the suitors soon began to exhibit their insolence to him. When he mildly remonstrated, one of them raised a stool and with it gave him a blow. Telemachus had hard work to restrain his indignation at seeing his father so treated in his own hall; but, remembering his father's injunctions, said no more than what became him as master of the house, though young, and protector of his guests. Once again was the wanderer all but betrayed;--when his aged nurse Euryclea, bathing his feet, recognized the scar of a wound dealt him by a boar, long ago.[351] Grief and joy overwhelmed the crone, and she would have revealed him to Penelope had not Ulysses enjoined silence upon her. Penelope had protracted her decision in favor of any one of her suitors so long that there seemed to be no further pretense for delay. The continued absence of her husband seemed to prove that his return was no longer to be expected. Meanwhile her son had grown up and was able to manage his own affairs. She therefore consented to submit the question of her choice to a trial of skill among the suitors. The test selected was shooting with the bow.[352] Twelve rings were arranged in a line, and he whose arrow was sent through the whole twelve was to have the queen for his prize. A bow that one of his brother heroes had given to Ulysses in former times was brought from the armory and with its quiver full of arrows was laid in the hall. Telemachus had taken care that all other weapons should be removed, under pretense that in the heat of competition there was danger, in some rash moment, of putting them to an improper use. [Illustration: FIG. 178. ULYSSES KILLS THE SUITORS (Left half)] All things being prepared for the trial, the first thing to be done was to bend the bow in order to attach the string. Telemachus endeavored to do it, but found all his efforts fruitless; and modestly confessing that he had attempted a task beyond his strength, he yielded the bow to another, _He_ tried it with no better success, and, amidst the laughter and jeers of his companions, gave it up. Another tried it, and another; they rubbed the bow with tallow, but all to no purpose; it would not bend. Then spoke Ulysses, humbly suggesting that he should be permitted to try; for, said he, "beggar as I am, I was once a soldier, and there is still some strength in these old limbs of mine." The suitors hooted with derision and commanded to turn him out of the hall for his insolence. But Telemachus spoke up for him, and, merely to gratify the old man, bade him try. Ulysses took the bow and handled it with the hand of a master. With ease he adjusted the cord to its notch, then fitting an arrow to the bow he drew the string and sped the arrow unerring through the rings. [Illustration: FIG. 179. ULYSSES KILLS THE SUITORS (Right half)] Without allowing them time to express their astonishment, he said, "Now for another mark!" and aimed direct at Antinoüs, the most insolent of the suitors.[353] The arrow pierced through his throat and he fell dead. Telemachus, Eumæus, and another faithful follower, well armed, now sprang to the side of Ulysses. The suitors, in amazement, looked round for arms, but found none, neither was there any way of escape, for Eumæus had secured the door. Ulysses left them not long in uncertainty; he announced himself as the long-lost chief, whose house they had invaded, whose substance they had squandered, whose wife and son they had persecuted for ten long years; and told them he meant to have ample vengeance. All but two were slain, and Ulysses was left master of his palace and possessor of his kingdom and his wife. =244. Tennyson's Ulysses.= Tennyson's poem of Ulysses represents the old hero,--his dangers past and nothing left but to stay at home and be happy,--growing tired of inaction and resolving to set forth again in quest of new adventures. It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an agèd wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known: cities of men, And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honor'd of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravel'd world, whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the scepter and the isle-- Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil This labor, by slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centered in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine. * * * * * [Illustration: FIG. 180. THE NIKE OF SAMOTHRACE] There lies the port: the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me-- That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads--you and I are old; Old age has yet his honor and his toil; Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. FOOTNOTES: [330] Sonnet by Andrew Lang. [331] For the authorship of the Odyssey, see § 298 (3); and for translations, see corresponding section of the Commentary. [332] Odyssey, 9. [333] § 141. [334] Odyssey, 10. [335] From Austin Dobson's Prayer of the Swine to Circe. [336] Odyssey, 10; adapted from Butcher and Lang's translation. So the following from Odyssey, 11. [337] Odyssey, 12. [338] _Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim._ [339] Odyssey, 1, 10. [340] Odyssey, 5, 64 (Cowper's translation). [341] Odyssey, 6. [342] Odyssey, 7. [343] Andrew Lang, A Song of Phæacia. [344] Odyssey, 8. [345] Odyssey, 13. [346] Stephen Phillips, Ulysses. [347] Odyssey, 14. [348] Odyssey, 15. [349] Odyssey 16, 212 (Cowper's translation). [350] Odyssey, 17, 290 (Cowper's translation). [351] Odyssey, 19. [352] Odyssey, 21. [353] Odyssey, 22. CHAPTER XXV ADVENTURES OF ÆNEAS Roman Virgil, thou that singest Ilion's lofty temples robed in fire, Ilion falling, Rome arising, wars, and filial faith, and Dido's pyre; Landscape lover, lord of language more than he that sang the Works and Days, All the chosen coin of fancy flashing out from many a golden phrase;... Light among the vanish'd ages; star that gildest yet this phantom shore; Golden branch amid the shadows, kings and realms that pass to rise no more;... Now the Rome of slaves hath perish'd, and the Rome of freemen holds her place, I, from out the Northern Island sunder'd once from all the human race, I salute thee, Mantovano, I that loved thee since my day began, Wielder of the stateliest measure ever molded by the lips of man.[354] [Illustration: ITALY BEFORE THE GROWTH OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE] =245. From Troy to Italy.= Homer tells the story of one of the Grecian heroes, Ulysses, in his wanderings on his return home from Troy. Virgil in his Æneid[355] narrates the mythical fortunes of the remnant of the _conquered_ people under their chief Æneas, the son of Venus and the Trojan Anchises, in their search for a new home after the ruin of their native city. On that fatal night when the wooden horse disgorged its contents of armed men, and the capture and conflagration of the city were the result, Æneas made his escape from the scene of destruction, with his father and his wife and young son. The father, Anchises, was too old to walk with the speed required, and Æneas took him upon his shoulders. Thus burdened, leading his son and followed by his wife, he made the best of his way out of the burning city; but in the confusion his wife, Creüsa, was swept away and lost. [Illustration: FIG. 181. ÆNEAS, ANCHISES, AND IULIUS] =246. The Departure from Troy.= On arriving at the place of rendezvous, numerous fugitives of both sexes were found, who put themselves under the guidance of Æneas. Some months were spent in preparation, and at length they embarked. They first landed on the neighboring shores of Thrace, and were preparing to build a city, but Æneas was deterred by a prodigy. Preparing to offer sacrifice, he tore some twigs from one of the bushes. To his dismay the wounded part dropped blood. When he repeated the act, a voice from the ground cried out to him, "Spare me, Æneas; I am thy kinsman, Polydore, here murdered with many arrows, from which a bush has grown, nourished with my blood." These words recalled to the recollection of Æneas that Polydore was a young prince of Troy, whom his father had sent with ample treasures to the neighboring land of Thrace, to be there brought up, at a distance from the horrors of war. The king to whom he was sent had murdered him and seized his treasures. Æneas and his companions, considering the land accursed by the stain of such a crime, hastened away. =247. The Promised Empire.= They next landed on the island of Delos. Here Æneas consulted the oracle of Apollo, and received an answer, ambiguous as usual,--"Seek thy ancient mother; there the race of Æneas shall dwell, and reduce all other nations to their sway." The Trojans heard with joy and immediately began to ask one another, "Where is the spot intended by the oracle?" Anchises remembered that there was a tradition that their forefathers came from Crete, and thither they resolved to steer. They arrived at Crete and began to build their city; but sickness broke out among them, and the fields that they had planted, failed to yield a crop. In this gloomy aspect of affairs, Æneas was warned in a dream to leave the country and seek a western land called Hesperia, whence Dardanus, the true founder of the Trojan race, was reported to have migrated. To Hesperia, now called Italy, they therefore directed their future course, and not till after many adventures, and the lapse of time sufficient to carry a modern navigator several times round the world, did they arrive there. =248. The Harpies.= Their first landing was at the island of the Harpies. These were disgusting birds, with the heads of maidens, with long claws, and faces pale with hunger. They were sent by the gods to torment a certain Phineus, whom Jupiter had deprived of his sight in punishment of his cruelty; and whenever a meal was placed before him, the harpies darted down from the air and carried it off. They were driven away from Phineus by the heroes of the Argonautic expedition, and took refuge in the island where Æneas now found them. When the Trojans entered the port they saw herds of cattle roaming over the plain. They slew as many as they wished, and prepared for a feast. But no sooner had they seated themselves at the table than a horrible clamor was heard in the air, and a flock of these odious harpies came rushing down upon them, seizing in their talons the meat from the dishes and flying away with it. Æneas and his companions drew their swords and dealt vigorous blows among the monsters, but to no purpose, for they were so nimble it was almost impossible to hit them, and their feathers were, like armor, impenetrable to steel. One of them, perched on a neighboring cliff, screamed out, "Is it thus, Trojans, ye treat us innocent birds, first slaughter our cattle and then make war on ourselves?" She then predicted dire sufferings to them in their future course, and, having vented her wrath, flew away. =249. Epirus.= The Trojans made haste to leave the country, and next found themselves coasting along the shore of Epirus. Here they landed and to their astonishment learned that certain Trojan exiles, who had been carried there as prisoners, had become rulers of the country. Andromache, the widow of Hector, had borne three sons to Neoptolemus in Epirus. But when he cast her off for Hermione, he left her to her fellow-captive, Helenus, Hector's brother. Now that Neoptolemus was dead she had become the wife of Helenus; and they ruled the realm. Helenus and Andromache treated the exiles with the utmost hospitality, and dismissed them loaded with gifts. [Illustration: FIG. 182. SCYLLA] =250. The Cyclopes Again.= From hence Æneas coasted along the shore of Sicily and passed the country of the Cyclopes. Here they were hailed from the shore by a miserable object, whom by his garments tattered, as they were, they perceived to be a Greek. He told them he was one of Ulysses' companions, left behind by that chief in his hurried departure. He related the story of Ulysses' adventure with Polyphemus, and besought them to take him off with them, as he had no means of sustaining his existence where he was, but wild berries and roots, and lived in constant fear of the Cyclopes. While he spoke Polyphemus made his appearance,--terrible, shapeless, vast, and, of course, blind.[356] He walked with cautious steps, feeling his way with a staff, down to the seaside, to wash his eye-socket in the waves. When he reached the water he waded out towards them, and his immense height enabled him to advance far into the sea, so that the Trojans in terror took to their oars to get out of his way. Hearing the oars, Polyphemus shouted after them so that the shores resounded, and at the noise the other Cyclopes came forth from their caves and woods, and lined the shore, like a row of lofty pine trees. The Trojans plied their oars and soon left them out of sight. Æneas had been cautioned by Helenus to avoid the strait guarded by the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. There Ulysses, the reader will remember, had lost six of his men, seized by Scylla while the navigators were wholly intent upon avoiding Charybdis. Æneas, following the advice of Helenus, shunned the dangerous pass and coasted along the island of Sicily. =251. The Resentment of Juno.= Now Juno, seeing the Trojans speeding their way prosperously towards their destined shore, felt her old grudge against them revive, for she could not forget the slight that Paris had put upon her in awarding the prize of beauty to another. In heavenly minds can such resentment dwell![357] Accordingly she gave orders to Æolus, who sent forth his sons, Boreas, Typhon, and the other winds, to toss the ocean. A terrible storm ensued, and the Trojan ships were driven out of their course towards the coast of Africa. They were in imminent danger of being wrecked, and were separated, so that Æneas thought that all were lost except his own vessel. At this crisis, Neptune, hearing the storm raging, and knowing that he had given no orders for one, raised his head above the waves and saw the fleet of Æneas driving before the gale. Understanding the hostility of Juno, he was at no loss to account for it, but his anger was not the less at this interference in his province. He called the winds and dismissed them with a severe reprimand. He then soothed the waves, and brushed away the clouds from before the face of the sun. Some of the ships which had got on the rocks he pried off with his own trident, while Triton and a sea-nymph, putting their shoulders under others, set them afloat again. The Trojans, when the sea became calm, sought the nearest shore,--the coast of Carthage, where Æneas was so happy as to find that one by one the ships all arrived safe, though badly shaken. =252. The Sojourn at Carthage. Dido.= Carthage, where the exiles had now arrived, was a spot on the coast of Africa opposite Sicily, where at that time a Tyrian colony under Dido, their queen, were laying the foundations of a state destined in later ages to be the rival of Rome itself. Dido was the daughter of Belus, king of Tyre, and sister of Pygmalion, who succeeded his father on the throne. Her husband was Sichæus, a man of immense wealth, but Pygmalion, who coveted his treasures, caused him to be put to death. Dido, with a numerous body of friends and followers, both men and women, succeeded in effecting their escape from Tyre, in several vessels, carrying with them the treasures of Sichæus. On arriving at the spot which they selected as the seat of their future home, they asked of the natives only so much land as they could inclose with a bull's hide. When this was readily granted, the queen caused the hide to be cut into strips, and with them inclosed a spot on which she built a citadel, and called it Byrsa (a hide). Around this fort the city of Carthage rose, and soon became a powerful and flourishing place. Such was the state of affairs when Æneas with his Trojans arrived there. Dido received the illustrious exiles with friendliness and hospitality. "Not unacquainted with distress," she said, "I have learned to succor the unfortunate."[358] The queen's hospitality displayed itself in festivities at which games of strength and skill were exhibited. The strangers contended for the palm with her own subjects on equal terms, the queen declaring that whether the victor were "Trojan or Tyrian should make no difference to her."[359] At the feast which followed the games, Æneas gave at her request a recital of the closing events of the Trojan history and his own adventures after the fall of the city. Dido was charmed with his discourse and filled with admiration of his exploits. She conceived an ardent passion for him, and he for his part seemed well content to accept the fortunate chance which appeared to offer him at once a happy termination of his wanderings, a home, a kingdom, and a bride. Months rolled away in the enjoyment of pleasant intercourse, and it seemed as if Italy and the empire destined to be founded on its shores were alike forgotten. Seeing which, Jupiter dispatched Mercury with a message to Æneas recalling him to a sense of his high destiny, and commanding him to resume his voyage. Æneas parted from Dido, though she tried every allurement and persuasion to detain him. The blow to her affection and her pride was too much for her to endure, and when she found that he was gone, she mounted a funeral pile which she had caused to be prepared, and having stabbed herself was consumed with the pile. The flames rising over the city were seen by the departing Trojans, and, though the cause was unknown, gave to Æneas some intimation of the fatal event. =253. Palinurus. Italy at Last.= After touching at the island of Sicily, where Acestes, a prince of Trojan lineage, bore sway, and gave them a hospitable reception, the Trojans reëmbarked and held on their course for Italy. Venus now interceded with Neptune to allow her son at last to attain the wished-for goal and find an end of his perils on the deep. Neptune consented, stipulating only for one life as a ransom for the rest. The victim was Palinurus, the pilot. As he sat watching the stars with his hand on the helm, Somnus, sent by Neptune, approached in the guise of Phorbas, and said, "Palinurus, the breeze is fair, the water smooth, and the ship sails steadily on her course. Lie down awhile and take needful rest. I will stand at the helm in thy place." Palinurus replied, "Tell me not of smooth seas or favoring winds,--me who have seen so much of their treachery. Shall I trust Æneas to the chances of the weather and the winds?" And he continued to grasp the helm and to keep his eyes fixed on the stars. But Somnus waved over him a branch moistened with Lethæan dew, and his eyes closed in spite of all his efforts. Then Somnus pushed him overboard, and he fell; but as he kept his hold upon the helm, it came away with him. Neptune was mindful of his promise, and held the ship on her track without helm or pilot till Æneas discovered his loss and, sorrowing deeply for his faithful steersman, took charge of the ship himself. Under his guidance the ships at last reached the shores of Italy, and joyfully the adventurers leaped to land. [Illustration: FIG. 183. THE CUMÆAN SIBYL From the painting by Michelangelo] =254. The Sibyl of Cumæ.= While his people were employed in making their encampment, Æneas sought the abode of the Sibyl. It was a cave connected with a temple and grove, sacred to Apollo and Diana. While Æneas contemplated the scene, the Sibyl accosted him. She seemed to know his errand, and, under the influence of the deity of the place, burst forth in a prophetic strain, giving dark intimations of labors and perils through which he was destined to make his way to final success. She closed with the encouraging words which have become proverbial: "Yield not to disasters, but press onward the more bravely."[360] Æneas replied that he had prepared himself for whatever might await him. He had but one request to make. Having been directed in a dream to seek the abode of the dead in order to confer with his father Anchises to receive from him a revelation of his future fortunes and those of his race, he asked her assistance to enable him to accomplish the task. The Sibyl replied: "The descent to Avernus is easy; the gate of Pluto stands open night and day; but to retrace one's steps and return to the upper air, that is the toil, that the difficulty."[361] She instructed him to seek in the forest a tree on which grew a golden branch. This branch was to be plucked off and borne as a gift to Proserpine, and if fate was propitious, it would yield to the hand and quit its parent trunk, but otherwise no force could rend it away. If torn away, another would succeed. Æneas followed the directions of the Sibyl. His mother, Venus, sent two of her doves to fly before him and show him the way, and by their assistance he found the tree, plucked the branch, and hastened back with it to the Sibyl. =255. The Infernal Regions.= The region where Virgil locates the entrance to the infernal regions is, perhaps, the most strikingly adapted to excite ideas of the terrific and preternatural of any on the face of the earth. It is the volcanic region near Vesuvius, where the whole country is cleft with chasms from which sulphurous flames arise, while the ground is shaken with pent-up vapors, and mysterious sounds issue from the bowels of the earth. The lake Avernus is supposed to fill the crater of an extinct volcano. It is circular, half a mile wide and very deep, surrounded by high banks, which in Virgil's time were covered with a gloomy forest. Mephitic vapors rise from its waters, so that no life is found on its banks, and no birds fly over it. Here Æneas offered sacrifices to the infernal deities, Proserpine, Hecate, and the Furies. Then a roaring was heard in the earth, the woods on the hilltops were shaken, and the howling of dogs announced the approach of the deities. "Now," said the Sibyl, "summon thy courage, for thou shalt need it." She descended into the cave of Avernus, and Æneas followed. Before the threshold of hell they passed through a group of beings who are enumerated as Griefs and avenging Cares, pale Diseases, and melancholy Age, Fear and Hunger that tempt to crime, Toil, Poverty, and Death,--forms horrible to view. The Furies spread their couches there, and Discord, whose hair was of vipers tied up with a bloody fillet. Here also were the monsters, Briareus, with his hundred arms, Hydras hissing, and Chimæras breathing fire. Æneas shuddered at the sight, drew his sword and would have struck, but the Sibyl restrained him. They then came to the black river Cocytus, where they found the ferryman Charon, old and squalid, but strong and vigorous, who was receiving passengers of all kinds into his boat, stout-hearted heroes, boys and unmarried girls, as numerous as the leaves that fall at autumn or the flocks that fly southward at the approach of winter. They stood pressing for a passage and longing to touch the opposite shore. But the stern ferryman took in only such as he chose, driving the rest back. Æneas, wondering at the sight, asked the Sibyl, "Why this discrimination?" She answered, "Those who are taken on board the bark are the souls of those who have received due burial rites; the host of others who have remained unburied are not permitted to pass the flood, but wander a hundred years, and flit to and fro about the shore, till at last they are taken over." Æneas grieved at recollecting some of his own companions who had perished in the storm. At that moment he beheld Palinurus, his pilot, who fell overboard and was drowned. He addressed him and asked him the cause of his misfortune. Palinurus replied that the rudder was carried away, and he, clinging to it, was swept away with it. He besought Æneas most urgently to extend to him his hand and take him in company to the opposite shore. The Sibyl rebuked him for the wish thus to transgress the laws of Pluto, but consoled him by informing him that the people of the shore where his body had been wafted by the waves should be stirred up by prodigies to give it due burial, and that the promontory should bear the name of Cape Palinurus,--and so it does to this day. Leaving Palinurus consoled by these words, they approached the boat. Charon, fixing his eyes sternly upon the advancing warrior, demanded by what right he, living and armed, approached that shore. To which the Sibyl replied that they would commit no violence, that Æneas' only object was to see his father, and finally exhibited the golden branch, at sight of which Charon's wrath relaxed, and he made haste to turn his bark to the shore and receive them on board. The boat, adapted only to the light freight of bodiless spirits, groaned under the weight of the hero. They were soon conveyed to the opposite shore. There they were encountered by the three-headed dog Cerberus, with his necks bristling with snakes. He barked with all three throats till the Sibyl threw him a medicated cake, which he eagerly devoured, and then stretched himself out in his den and fell asleep. Æneas and the Sibyl sprang to land. The first sound that struck their ears was the wailing of young children who had died on the threshold of life; and near to these were those who had perished under false charges. Minos presides over them as judge and examines the deeds of each. The next class was of those who had died by their own hand, hating life and seeking refuge in death. How willingly would they now endure poverty, labor, and any other infliction if they might but return to life! Next were situated the regions of sadness, divided off into retired paths, leading through groves of myrtle. Here roamed those who had fallen victims to unrequited love, not freed from pain even by death itself. Among these Æneas thought he descried the form of Dido, with a wound still recent. In the dim light he was for a moment uncertain, but approaching, perceived it was indeed she. Tears fell from his eyes, and he addressed her in the accents of love. "Unhappy Dido! was then the rumor true that thou hadst perished? And was I, alas! the cause? I call the gods to witness that my departure from thee was reluctant and in obedience to the commands of Jove; nor could I believe that my absence would have cost thee so dear. Stop, I beseech thee, and refuse me not a last farewell." She stood for a moment with averted countenance and eyes fixed on the ground, and then silently passed on, as insensible to his pleadings as a rock. Æneas followed for some distance, then with a heavy heart rejoined his companion and resumed his route. They next entered the fields where roam the heroes who have fallen in battle. Here they saw many shades of Grecian and Trojan warriors. The Trojans thronged around him and could not be satisfied with the sight. They asked the cause of his coming and plied him with innumerable questions. But the Greeks, at the sight of his armor glittering through the murky atmosphere, recognized the hero, and, filled with terror, turned their backs and fled, as they used to do on the plains of Troy. Æneas would have lingered long with his Trojan friends, but the Sibyl hurried him away. They next came to a place where the road divided, the one way leading to Elysium, the other to the regions of the condemned. Æneas beheld on one side the walls of a mighty city, around which Phlegethon rolled its fiery waters. Before him was the gate of adamant that neither gods nor men can break through. An iron tower stood by the gate, on which Tisiphone, the avenging Fury, kept guard. From the city were heard groans, and the sound of the scourge, the creaking of iron, and the clanking of chains. Æneas, horror-stricken, inquired of his guide what crimes were those whose punishments produced the sounds he heard. The Sibyl answered, "Here is the judgment hall of Rhadamanthus, who brings to light crimes done in life which the perpetrator vainly thought impenetrably hid. Tisiphone applies her whip of scorpions and delivers the offender over to her sister Furies." At this moment with horrid clang the brazen gates unfolded, and within, Æneas saw a Hydra with fifty heads guarding the entrance. The Sibyl told him that the gulf of Tartarus descended deep, so that its recesses were as far beneath their feet as heaven was high above their heads. In the bottom of this pit the Titan race, who warred against the gods, lie prostrate; Salmoneus also, who presumed to vie with Jupiter, and built a bridge of brass over which he drove his chariot that the sound might resemble thunder, launching flaming brands at his people in imitation of lightning, till Jupiter struck him with a real thunderbolt and taught him the difference between mortal weapons and divine. Here also is Tityus, the giant, whose form is so immense that, as he lies, he stretches over nine acres, while a vulture preys upon his liver, which as fast as it is devoured grows again, so that his punishment will have no end. Æneas saw groups seated at tables loaded with dainties, while near by stood a Fury who snatched away the viands from their lips as fast as they prepared to taste them. Others beheld suspended over their heads huge rocks, threatening to fall, keeping them in a state of constant alarm. These were they who had hated their brothers, or struck their parents, or defrauded the friends who trusted them, or who, having grown rich, kept their money to themselves and gave no share to others,--the last being the most numerous class. Here also were those who had violated the marriage vow, or fought in a bad cause, or failed in fidelity to their employers. Here was one who had sold his country for gold, another who perverted the laws, making them say one thing to-day and another to-morrow. Ixion was there, fastened to the circumference of a wheel ceaselessly revolving; and Sisyphus, whose task was to roll a huge stone up to a hilltop; but when the steep was well-nigh gained, the rock, repulsed by some sudden force, rushed again headlong down to the plain. Again he toiled at it, while the sweat bathed all his weary limbs, but all to no effect. There was Tantalus, who stood in a pool his chin level with the water, yet he was parched with thirst and found nothing to assuage it; for when he bowed his hoary head, eager to quaff, the water fled away, leaving the ground at his feet all dry. Tall trees, laden with fruit, stooped their heads to him,--pears, pomegranates, apples, and luscious figs; but when, with a sudden grasp, he tried to seize them, winds whirled them high above his reach. [Illustration: FIG. 184. IXION ON THE WHEEL] =256. The Elysian Fields.= The Sibyl now warned Æneas that it was time to turn from these melancholy regions and seek the city of the blessed. They passed through a middle tract of darkness and came upon the Elysian Fields, the groves where the happy reside. They breathed a freer air and saw all objects clothed in a purple light. The region had a sun and stars of its own. The inhabitants were enjoying themselves in various ways, some in sports on the grassy turf, in games of strength or skill, others dancing or singing. Orpheus struck the chords of his lyre and called forth ravishing sounds. Here Æneas saw the founders of the Trojan state, great-hearted heroes who lived in happier times. He gazed with admiration on the war chariots and glittering arms now reposing in disuse. Spears stood fixed in the ground, and the horses, unharnessed, roamed over the plain. The same pride in splendid armor and generous steeds which the old heroes felt in life accompanied them here. He saw another group feasting and listening to the strains of music. They were in a laurel grove, whence the great river Po has its origin and flows out among men. Here dwelt those who fell by wounds received in their country's cause, holy priests also, and poets who have uttered thoughts worthy of Apollo, and others who have contributed to cheer and adorn life by their discoveries in the useful arts, and have made their memory blessed by rendering service to mankind. They wore snow-white fillets about their brows. The Sibyl addressed a group of these and inquired where Anchises was to be found. They were directed where to seek him, and soon found him in a verdant valley, where he was contemplating the ranks of his posterity, their destinies and worthy deeds to be achieved in coming times. When he recognized Æneas approaching, he stretched out both hands to him, while tears flowed freely. "Dost thou come at last," said he, "long expected, and do I behold thee after such perils past? O my son, how have I trembled for thee, as I have watched thy course!" To which Æneas replied, "O father! thy image was always before me to guide and guard me." Then he endeavored to infold his father in his embrace, but his arms inclosed only an unsubstantial shade. =257. The Valley of Oblivion.= Æneas perceived before him a spacious valley, with trees gently waving to the wind, a tranquil landscape, through which the river Lethe flowed. Along the banks of the stream wandered a countless multitude, numerous as insects in the summer air. Æneas, with surprise, inquired who were these. Anchises answered: "They are souls to which bodies are to be given in due time. Meanwhile they dwell on Lethe's bank and drink oblivion of their former lives." "O father!" said Æneas, "is it possible that any can be so in love with life as to wish to leave these tranquil seats for the upper world?" Anchises replied by explaining the plan of creation. The Creator, he told him, originally made the material of which souls are composed, of the four elements, fire, air, earth, and water, all which when united took the form of the most excellent part, fire, and became _flame_. This material was scattered like seed among the heavenly bodies, the sun, moon, and stars. Of this seed the inferior gods created man and all other animals, mingling it with various proportions of earth, by which its purity was alloyed and reduced. Thus the more earth predominates in the composition, the less pure is the individual; and we see that men and women with their full-grown bodies have not the purity of childhood. So in proportion to the time which the union of body and soul has lasted, is the impurity contracted by the spiritual part. This impurity must be purged away after death, which is done by ventilating the souls in the current of winds, or merging them in water, or burning out their impurities by fire. Some few, of whom Anchises intimates that he is one, are admitted at once to Elysium, there to remain. But the rest, after the impurities of earth are purged away, are sent back to life endowed with new bodies, having had the remembrance of their former lives effectually washed away by the waters of Lethe. Some souls, however, there still are, so thoroughly corrupted that they are not fit to be intrusted with human bodies, and these pass by metempsychosis into the bodies of brute animals. Anchises, having explained so much, proceeded to point out to Æneas individuals of his race who were hereafter to be born, and to relate to him the exploits they should perform in the world. After this he reverted to the present, and told his son of the events that remained to him to be accomplished before the complete establishment of himself and his followers in Italy. Wars were to be waged, battles fought, a bride to be won, and, in the result, a Trojan state founded, from which should rise the Roman power, to be in time the sovereign of the world. As Æneas and the Sibyl pursued their way back to earth, he said to her: "Whether thou be a goddess or a mortal beloved by the gods, by me thou shalt always be held in reverence. When I reach the upper air, I will cause a temple to be built to thy honor, and will myself bring offerings." "I am no goddess," said the Sibyl; "I have no claims to sacrifice or offering. I am mortal, yet, could I but have accepted the love of Apollo, I might have been immortal. He promised me the fulfillment of my wish, if I would consent to be his. I took a handful of sand and, holding it forth, said, 'Grant me to see as many birthdays as there are sand-grains in my hand.' Unluckily I forgot to ask for enduring youth. This also he would have granted could I have accepted his love, but, offended at my refusal, he allowed me to grow old. My youth and youthful strength fled long ago. I have lived seven hundred years, and to equal the number of the sand-grains I have still to see three hundred springs and three hundred harvests. My body shrinks up as years increase, and in time I shall be lost to sight, but my voice will remain, and future ages will respect my sayings." These concluding words of the Sibyl alluded to her prophetic power. In her cave she was accustomed to inscribe on leaves gathered from the trees the names and fates of individuals. The leaves thus inscribed were arranged in order within the cave, and might be consulted by her votaries. But if, perchance, at the opening of the door the wind rushed in and dispersed the leaves, the Sibyl gave no aid to restoring them again, and the oracle was irreparably lost. FOOTNOTES: [354] From Tennyson's To Virgil. [355] For Virgil, see § 299; for translations of his Æneid, see corresponding section in Commentary. [356] _Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum._--Æneid, 3, 658. [357] _Tantaene animis coelestibus irae?_--Æneid, 1, 11. [358] _Haud ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco._--Æneid, 1, 630. [359] _Tros Tyriusve mihi nullo discrimine agetur._--Æneid, 1, 574. [360] _Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito._--Æneid, 6, 95. [361] _Facilis descensus Averno;_ _Noctes atque dies patet atri janua Ditis;_ _Sed revocare gradum, superasque evadere ad auras,_ _Hoc opus, hic labor est._--Æneid, 6, 126-129. CHAPTER XXVI THE WAR BETWEEN TROJANS AND LATINS =258. The Fulfillment of Prophecy.= Æneas, having parted from the Sibyl and rejoined his fleet, coasted along the shores of Italy and cast anchor in the mouth of the Tiber. The poet, having brought his hero to this spot, the destined termination of his wanderings, invokes his Muse to tell him the situation of things at that eventful moment. Latinus, third in descent from Saturn, ruled the country. He was now old and had no male descendant, but had one charming daughter, Lavinia, who was sought in marriage by many neighboring chiefs, one of whom, Turnus, king of the Rutulians, was favored by the wishes of her parents. But Latinus had been warned in a dream by his father, Faunus, that the destined husband of Lavinia should come from a foreign land. From that union should spring a race destined to subdue the world. Our readers will remember that in the conflict with the harpies, one of those half-human birds had threatened the Trojans with dire sufferings. In particular, she predicted that before their wanderings ceased they should be pressed by hunger to devour their tables. This portent now came true; for as they took their scanty meal, seated on the grass, the men placed their hard biscuit on their laps and put thereon whatever their gleanings in the woods supplied. Having dispatched the latter, they finished by eating the crusts. Seeing which, the boy Iulus said playfully, "See! we are eating our tables." Æneas caught the words and accepted the omen. "All hail, promised land!" he exclaimed, "this is our home, this our country!" He then took measures to find out who were the present inhabitants of the land and who their rulers. A hundred chosen men were sent to the village of Latinus, bearing presents and a request for friendship and alliance. They went and were favorably received. Latinus immediately concluded that the Trojan hero was no other than the promised son-in-law announced by the oracle. He cheerfully granted his alliance, and sent back the messengers mounted on steeds from his stables and loaded with gifts and friendly messages. Juno, seeing things go thus prosperously for the Trojans, felt her old animosity revive, summoned Alecto from Erebus, and sent her to stir up discord. The Fury first took possession of the queen, Amata, and roused her to oppose in every way the new alliance. Alecto then sped to the city of Turnus and, assuming the form of an old priestess, informed him of the arrival of the foreigners and of the attempts of their prince to rob him of his betrothed. Next she turned her attention to the camp of the Trojans. There she saw the boy Iulus and his companions amusing themselves with hunting. She sharpened the scent of the dogs and led them to rouse up from the thicket a tame stag, the favorite of Silvia, the daughter of Tyrrheus, the king's herdsman. A javelin from the hand of Iulus wounded the animal, which had only strength left to run homeward and die at its mistress's feet. Her cries and tears roused her brothers and the herdsmen, and they, seizing whatever weapons came to hand, furiously assaulted the hunting party. These were protected by their friends, and the herdsmen were finally driven back with the loss of two of their number. These things were enough to rouse the storm of war, and the queen, Turnus, and the peasants all urged the old king to drive the strangers from the country. He resisted as long as he could, but, finding his opposition unavailing, finally gave way and retreated to his retirement. =259. The Gates of Janus Opened.= It was the custom of the country, when war was to be undertaken, for the chief magistrate, clad in his robes of office, with solemn pomp to open the gates of the temple of Janus, which were kept shut as long as peace endured. His people now urged the old king to perform that solemn office, but he refused to do so. While they contested, Juno herself, descending from the skies, smote the doors with irresistible force and burst them open. Immediately the whole country was in a flame. The people rushed from every side, breathing nothing but war. Turnus was recognized by all as leader; others joined as allies, chief of whom was Mezentius, a brave and able soldier, but of detestable cruelty. He had been the chief of one of the neighboring cities, but his people drove him out. With him was joined his son Lausus, a generous youth worthy of a better sire. [Illustration: FIG. 185. AMAZON] =260. Camilla.= Camilla, the favorite of Diana, a huntress and warrior after the fashion of the Amazons, came with her band of mounted followers, including a select number of her own sex, and ranged herself on the side of Turnus. This maiden had never accustomed her fingers to the distaff or the loom, but had learned to endure the toils of war and in speed to outstrip the wind. It seemed as if she might run over the standing corn without crushing it, or over the surface of the water without dipping her feet. Camilla's history had been singular from the beginning. Her father, Metabus, driven from his city by civil discord, carried with him in his flight his infant daughter. As he fled through the woods, his enemies in hot pursuit, he reached the bank of the river Amasenus, which, swelled by rains, seemed to debar a passage. He paused for a moment, then decided what to do. He tied the infant to his lance with wrappers of bark, and poising the weapon in his upraised hand, thus addressed Diana: "Goddess of the woods! I consecrate this maid to thee"; then hurled the weapon with its burden to the opposite bank. The spear flew across the roaring water. His pursuers were already upon him, but he plunged into the river, and swam across, and found the spear with the infant safe on the other side. Thenceforth he lived among the shepherds and brought up his daughter in woodland arts. While a child she was taught to use the bow and throw the javelin. With her sling she could bring down the crane or the wild swan. Her dress was a tiger's skin. Many mothers sought her for a daughter-in-law, but she continued faithful to Diana and repelled the thought of marriage. =261. Alliance with Evander.= Such were the formidable allies that ranged themselves against Æneas. It was night, and he lay stretched in sleep on the bank of the river under the open heavens. The god of the stream, Father Tiber, seemed to raise his head above the willows and to say: "O goddess-born, destined possessor of the Latin realms, this is the promised land; here is to be thy home, here shall terminate the hostility of the heavenly powers, if only thou faithfully persevere. There are friends not far distant. Prepare thy boats and row up my stream; I will lead thee to Evander, the Arcadian chief. He has long been at strife with Turnus and the Rutulians, and is prepared to become an ally of thine. Rise! offer thy vows to Juno and deprecate her anger. When thou hast achieved thy victory, then think of me." Æneas woke and paid immediate obedience to the friendly vision. He sacrificed to Juno, and invoked the god of the river and all his tributary fountains to lend their aid. Then for the first time a vessel filled with armed warriors floated on the stream of the Tiber. The river smoothed its waves and bade its current flow gently, while, impelled by the vigorous strokes of the rowers, the vessel shot rapidly up the stream. About the middle of the day they came in sight of the scattered buildings of the infant town where in after times the proud city of Rome grew, whose glory reached the skies. By chance the old king, Evander, was that day celebrating annual solemnities in honor of Hercules and all the gods. Pallas, his son, and all the chiefs of the little commonwealth stood by. When they saw the tall ship gliding onward through the wood, they were alarmed at the sight and rose from the tables. But Pallas forbade the solemnities to be interrupted and, seizing a weapon, stepped forward to the river's bank. He called aloud, demanding who the strangers were and what their object. Æneas, holding forth an olive branch, replied: "We are Trojans, friends to you and enemies to the Rutulians. We seek Evander and offer to join our arms with yours." Pallas, in amaze at the sound of so great a name, invited them to land, and when Æneas touched the shore, he seized his hand and held it long in friendly grasp. Proceeding through the wood they joined the king and his party, and were most favorably received. Seats were provided for them at the tables, and the repast proceeded. =262. The Site of Future Rome.= When the solemnities were ended, all moved towards the city. The king, bending with age, walked between his son and Æneas, taking the arm of one or the other of them, and with much variety of pleasing talk shortening the way. Æneas with delight looked and listened, observing all the beauties of the scene and learning much of heroes renowned in ancient times. Evander said: "These extensive groves were once inhabited by fauns and nymphs, and a rude race of men who sprang from the trees themselves and had neither laws nor social culture. They knew not how to yoke the cattle, nor raise a harvest, nor provide from present abundance for future want, but browsed like beasts upon the leafy boughs or fed voraciously on their hunted prey. Such were they when Saturn, expelled from Olympus by his sons, came among them and drew together the fierce savages, formed them into society, and gave them laws. Such peace and plenty ensued that men ever since have called his reign the Golden Age; but by degrees far other times succeeded, and the thirst of gold and the thirst of blood prevailed. The land was a prey to successive tyrants till fortune and resistless destiny brought me hither, an exile from my native land, Arcadia." Having thus said, he showed him the Tarpeian rock, and the rude spot, then overgrown with bushes, where in after times the Capitol was to rise in all its magnificence. He next pointed to some dismantled walls and said, "Here stood Janiculum, built by Janus, and there Saturnia, the town of Saturn." Such discourse brought them to the cottage of Evander, whence they saw the lowing herds roaming over the plain where soon should stand the proud and stately Forum. They entered, and a couch, well stuffed with leaves and covered with the skin of a Libyan bear, was spread for Æneas. Next morning, awakened by the dawn and the shrill song of birds beneath the eaves of his low mansion, old Evander rose. Clad in a tunic, and a panther's skin thrown over his shoulders, with sandals on his feet and his good sword girded to his side, he went forth to seek his guest. Two mastiffs followed him,--his whole retinue and bodyguard. He found the hero attended by his faithful Achates, and Pallas soon joining them, the old king spoke thus: "Illustrious Trojan, it is but little we can do in so great a cause. Our state is feeble, hemmed in on one side by the river, on the other by the Rutulians. But I propose to ally thee with a people numerous and rich, to whom fate has brought thee at the propitious moment. The Etruscans hold the country beyond the river. Mezentius was their king, a monster of cruelty, who invented unheard-of torments to gratify his vengeance. He would fasten the dead to the living, hand to hand and face to face, and leave the wretched victims to die in that dreadful embrace. At length people cast him out, him and his house. They burned his palace, and slew his friends. He escaped and took refuge with Turnus, who protects him with arms. The Etruscans demand that he shall be given up to deserved punishment, and would ere now have attempted to enforce their demand; but their priests restrain them, telling them that it is the will of heaven that no native of the land shall guide them to victory and that their destined leader must come from across the sea. They have offered the crown to me, but I am too old to undertake such great affairs, and my son is native-born, which precludes him from the choice. Thou, equally by birth and time of life and fame in arms pointed out by the gods, hast but to appear to be hailed at once as their leader. With thee I will join Pallas, my son, my only hope and comfort. Under thee he shall learn the art of war and strive to emulate thy great exploits." Then the king ordered horses to be furnished for the Trojan chiefs, and Æneas, with a chosen band of followers and Pallas accompanying, mounted and took the way to the Etruscan city,[362] having sent back the rest of his party in the ships. Æneas and his band safely arrived at the Etruscan camp and were received with open arms by Tarchon and his countrymen. =263. Turnus attacks the Trojan Camp.= In the meanwhile Turnus had collected his bands and made all necessary preparations for the war. Juno sent Iris to him with a message inciting him to take advantage of the absence of Æneas and surprise the Trojan camp. Accordingly the attempt was made; but the Trojans were found on their guard, and having received strict orders from Æneas not to fight in his absence, they lay still in their intrenchments and resisted all the efforts of the Rutulians to draw them into the field. Night coming on, the army of Turnus, in high spirits at their fancied superiority, feasted and enjoyed themselves, and finally stretched themselves on the field and slept secure. =264. Nisus and Euryalus.= In the camp of the Trojans things were far otherwise. There all was watchfulness and anxiety, and impatience for Æneas' return. Nisus stood guard at the entrance of the camp, and Euryalus, a youth distinguished above all in the army for graces of person and fine qualities, was with him. These two were friends and brothers in arms. Nisus said to his friend: "Dost thou perceive what confidence and carelessness the enemy display? Their lights are few and dim, and the men seem all oppressed with wine or sleep. Thou knowest how anxiously our chiefs wish to send to Æneas and to get intelligence from him. Now I am strongly moved to make my way through the enemy's camp and to go in search of our chief. If I succeed, the glory of the deed will be reward enough for me, and if they judge the service deserves anything more, let them pay it thee." Euryalus, all on fire with the love of adventure, replied: "Wouldst thou then, Nisus, refuse to share thy enterprise with me? And shall I let thee go into such danger alone? Not so my brave father brought me up, nor so have I planned for myself when I joined the standard of Æneas and resolved to hold my life cheap in comparison with honor." Nisus replied: "I doubt it not, my friend; but thou knowest the uncertain event of such an undertaking, and whatever may happen to me, I wish thee to be safe. Thou art younger than I and hast more of life in prospect. Nor can I be the cause of such grief to thy mother, who has chosen to be here in the camp with thee rather than stay and live in peace with the other matrons in Acestes' city." Euryalus replied, "Say no more. In vain dost thou seek arguments to dissuade me. I am fixed in the resolution to go with thee. Let us lose no time." They called the guard and, committing the watch to them, sought the general's tent. They found the chief officers in consultation, deliberating how they should send notice to Æneas of their situation. The offer of the two friends was gladly accepted, themselves loaded with praises and promised the most liberal rewards in case of success. Iulus especially addressed Euryalus, assuring him of his lasting friendship. Euryalus replied: "I have but one boon to ask. My aged mother is with me in the camp. For me she left the Trojan soil and would not stay behind with the other matrons at the city of Acestes. I go now without taking leave of her. I could not bear her tears nor set at naught her entreaties. But do thou, I beseech thee, comfort her in her distress. Promise me that and I shall go more boldly into whatever dangers may present themselves." Iulus and the other chiefs were moved to tears and promised to do all his request. "Thy mother shall be mine," said Iulus, "and all that I have promised thee shall be made good to her, if thou dost not return to receive it." The two friends left the camp and plunged at once into the midst of the enemy. They found no watch, no sentinels posted, but, all about, the sleeping soldiers strewn on the grass and among the wagons. The laws of war at that early day did not forbid a brave man to slay a sleeping foe, and the two Trojans slew, as they passed, such of the enemy as they could without exciting alarm. In one tent Euryalus made prize of a helmet brilliant with gold and plumes. They had passed through the enemy's ranks without being discovered, but now suddenly appeared a troop directly in front of them, which, under Volscens, their leader, were approaching the camp. The glittering helmet of Euryalus caught their attention, and Volscens hailed the two and demanded who and whence they were. They made no answer, but plunged into the wood. The horsemen scattered in all directions to intercept their flight. Nisus had eluded pursuit and was out of danger, but, since Euryalus was missing, he turned back to seek him. He again entered the wood and soon came within sound of voices. Looking through the thicket he saw the whole band surrounding Euryalus with noisy questions. What should he do; how extricate the youth; or would it be better to die with him? Raising his eyes to the moon which now shone clear, he said, "Goddess, favor my effort!" and, aiming his javelin at one of the leaders of the troop, struck him in the back and stretched him on the plain with a deathblow. In the midst of their amazement another weapon flew, and another of the party fell dead. Volscens, the leader, ignorant whence the darts came, rushed sword in hand upon Euryalus. "Thou shalt pay the penalty of both," he said, and would have plunged the sword into his bosom, when Nisus, who from his concealment saw the peril of his friend, rushed forward exclaiming, "'T was I! 't was I! Turn your swords against me, Rutulians. I did it; he only followed me as a friend." While he spoke the sword fell and pierced the comely bosom of Euryalus. His head fell over on his shoulder, like a flower cut down by the plow. Nisus rushed upon Volscens and plunged his sword into his body, and was himself slain on the instant by numberless blows. =265. The Death of Mezentius.= Æneas, with his Etrurian allies, arrived on the scene of action in time to rescue his beleaguered camp; and now the two armies being nearly equal in strength, the war began in good earnest. We cannot find space for all the details, but must simply record the fate of the principal characters. The tyrant Mezentius, finding himself engaged against his revolted subjects, raged like a wild beast. He slew all who dared withstand him, and put the multitude to flight wherever he appeared. At last he encountered Æneas, and the armies stood still to see the issue. Mezentius threw his spear, which, striking Æneas' shield, glanced off and hit Antores,--a Grecian by birth who had left Argos, his native city, and followed Evander into Italy. The poet says of him, with simple pathos which has made the words proverbial, "He fell, unhappy, by a wound intended for another, looked up to the skies, and, dying, remembered sweet Argos."[363] Æneas now in turn hurled his lance. It pierced the shield of Mezentius and wounded him in the thigh. Lausus, his son, could not bear the sight, but rushed forward and interposed himself, while the followers pressed round Mezentius and bore him away. Æneas held his sword suspended over Lausus and delayed to strike, but the furious youth pressed on, and he was compelled to deal the fatal blow. Lausus fell, and Æneas bent over him in pity. "Hapless youth," he said, "what can I do for thee worthy of thy praise? Keep those arms in which thou gloriest, and fear not but that thy body shall be restored to thy friends and have due funeral honors." So saying, he called the timid followers and delivered the body into their hands. Mezentius meanwhile had been borne to the riverside, and had washed his wound. Soon the news reached him of Lausus' death, and rage and despair supplied the place of strength. He mounted his horse and dashed into the thickest of the fight, seeking Æneas. Having found him, he rode round him in a circle, throwing one javelin after another, while Æneas stood fenced with his shield, turning every way to meet them. At last after Mezentius had three times made the circuit, Æneas threw his lance directly at the horse's head. The animal fell with pierced temples, while a shout from both armies rent the skies. Mezentius asked no mercy, but only that his body might be spared the insults of his revolted subjects and be buried in the same grave with his son. He received the fatal stroke not unprepared, and poured out his life and his blood together. =266. The Deaths of Pallas and Camilla.= While these things were doing in one part of the field, in another Turnus encountered the youthful Pallas. The contest between champions so unequally matched could not be doubtful. Pallas bore himself bravely, but fell by the lance of Turnus. The victor almost relented when he saw the brave youth lying dead at his feet, and spared to use the privilege of a conqueror in despoiling him of his arms. The belt only, adorned with studs and carvings of gold, he took and clasped round his own body. The rest he remitted to the friends of the slain. After the battle there was a cessation of arms for some days to allow both armies to bury their dead. In this interval Æneas challenged Turnus to decide the contest by single combat, but Turnus evaded the challenge. Another battle ensued, in which Camilla, the virgin warrior, was chiefly conspicuous. Her deeds of valor surpassed those of the bravest warriors, and many Trojans and Etruscans fell pierced with her darts or struck down by her battle-ax. At last an Etruscan named Aruns, who had watched her long, seeking for some advantage, observed her pursuing an enemy whose splendid armor offered a tempting prize. Intent on the chase she observed not her danger, and the javelin of Aruns struck her and inflicted a fatal wound. She fell and breathed her last in the arms of her attendant maidens. But Diana, who beheld her fate, suffered not her slaughter to be unavenged. Aruns, as he stole away glad but frightened, was struck by a secret arrow, launched by one of the nymphs of Diana's train, and he died ignobly and unknown. =267. The Final Conflict.= At length the final conflict took place between Æneas and Turnus. Turnus had avoided the contest as long as he could; but at last, impelled by the ill success of his arms and by the murmurs of his followers, he braced himself to the conflict. The outcome could not be doubtful. On the side of Æneas were the expressed decree of destiny, the aid of his goddess-mother in every emergency, and impenetrable armor fabricated by Vulcan, at her request, for her son. Turnus, on the other hand, was deserted by his celestial allies, Juno having been expressly forbidden by Jupiter to assist him any longer. Turnus threw his lance, but it recoiled harmless from the shield of Æneas. The Trojan hero then threw his, which, penetrating the shield of Turnus, pierced his thigh. Then Turnus' fortitude forsook him, and he begged for mercy; Æneas, indeed, would have spared his opponent's life, but at the instant his eye fell on the belt of Pallas, which Turnus had taken from the slaughtered youth. Instantly his rage revived, and exclaiming, "Pallas immolates thee with this blow," he thrust him through with his sword. Here the poem of the Æneid closes, and we are left to infer that Æneas, having triumphed over his foes, obtained Lavinia for his bride. Tradition adds that he founded a city and called it Lavinium, after her name. His son Iulus founded Alba Longa, which became the birthplace of Romulus and Remus and the cradle of Rome. FOOTNOTES: [362] The poet here inserts a famous line which is thought to imitate in its sound the galloping of horses: _Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum_.--Æneid, 8, 596. [363] _Sternitur infelix alieno volnere, caelumque_ _Aspicit, et dulcis moriens reminiscitur Argos._--Æneid 10, 781. [Illustration: NIKE OF BRESCIA] CHAPTER XXVII MYTHS OF THE NORSE GODS[364] =268. The Creation.= According to the Eddas there was once no heaven above nor earth beneath, but only a bottomless deep, Ginungagap, and a world of mist, Niflheim, in which sprang a fountain. Twelve rivers issued from this fountain, Vergelmir, and when they had flowed far from their source, they froze into ice, and one layer accumulating over another, the great deep was filled up. Southward from the world of mist was the world of light, Muspelheim. From this proceeded a warm wind upon the ice and melted it. The vapors rose in the air and formed clouds, from which sprang Ymir, the rime-cold giant and his progeny, and the cow Audhumbla, whose milk afforded nourishment and food to the giant. The cow got nourishment by licking the hoar frost and salt from the ice. While she was one day licking the salt stones there appeared at first the hair of some being, on the second day his whole head, and on the third the entire form endowed with beauty, agility, and power. This new being was a god, Bori, from whom and his wife, a daughter of the giant race, sprang Bor, the father of Odin, Vili, and Ve. These three slew the giant Ymir, and out of his body formed the earth, of his blood the seas, of his bones the mountains, of his hair the trees, of his skull the heavens, and of his brain clouds, charged with hail and snow. Of Ymir's eyebrows the gods built a fence around the Midgard or mid-earth between Niflheim and Muspelheim, destined to become the abode of man. Odin then regulated the periods of day and night and the seasons by placing in the heavens the sun and moon, and appointing to them their respective courses. As soon as the sun began to shed its rays upon the earth, it caused the vegetable world to bud and sprout. Shortly after the gods (the Anse-race, Anses, Æsir, or Asa-folk) had created the world, they walked by the side of the sea, pleased with their new work, but found that it was still incomplete, for it was without human beings. They therefore took an ashen spar and made a man out of it; woman they made out of a piece of elm; and they called the man Ask and the woman Embla. Odin then gave them life and soul, Vili reason and motion, and Ve bestowed upon them the senses, expressive features, and speech. Midgard was given them as their residence, and they became the progenitors of the human race. =269. Yggdrasil.= The mighty ash tree, Yggdrasil, was supposed to support the whole universe. It sprang from the body of Ymir, and had three immense roots, extending one into Midgard (the dwelling of mortals), another into Jötunheim (the abode of the giants), and the third below Niflheim, into the region of Death. By the side of each of these roots is a spring, from which it is watered. The root that extends into Midgard is carefully tended by the three Norns,--goddesses who are regarded as the dispensers of fate. They are Urd (the past), Verdandi (the present), Skuld (the future). The spring at the Jötunheim side is Mimir's well, in which wisdom and wit lie hidden, but that below Niflheim refreshes also the dark dragon of despair, Nidhogg (the back-biter), which perpetually gnaws at the root. Four harts run across the branches of the tree and nip the buds; they represent the four winds. Under the tree lies Ymir, and when he tries to shake off its weight the earth quakes. The boughs overshadow the earth, and the top rises into Asgard in the zenith. =270. Odin and his Valhalla.= To Asgard, the abode of the gods, access is gained only by crossing the bridge, Bifrost (the rainbow). Asgard--Gladsheim for the gods, Vingolf for the goddesses--consists of golden and silver palaces; but the most beautiful of these is Valhalla, the great hall of Odin. When seated on his throne he overlooks heaven and earth. Beside him sits _Frigga_ (or _Fricka_), his wife, who knows all things. Upon his shoulders are the ravens, Hugin and Munin,--Thought and Memory,--who fly every day over the whole world, and on their return report to him what they have seen and heard. At his feet lie his two wolves, Geri and Freki, to whom Odin gives the meat that is set before him, for he himself stands in no need of food. Mead is for him both food and drink. He invented the Runic characters; the decrees of fate, inscribed therein, it is the business of the Norns to engrave upon a metal shield. From Odin's name, spelt Woden, as it sometimes is, comes our English word, Wednesday. [Illustration: FIG. 186. VALKYRIE BEARING A HERO TO VALHALLA From the painting by Dielitz] Odin is frequently called Alfadur (Allfather), but this name is sometimes used in a way that shows that the Scandinavians had an idea of a deity superior to Odin, uncreated and eternal. In Valhalla Odin feasts with his chosen heroes, all those who have fallen bravely in battle, for all who die a peaceful death are excluded. The flesh of the boar Serimnir is served up to them and is abundant for all. For although this boar is cooked every morning, he becomes whole again every night. For drink the heroes are supplied abundantly with mead from the she-goat Heidrun. When the heroes are not feasting, they amuse themselves with fighting. Every day they ride out into the court or field and fight until they cut each other in pieces. This is their pastime; but when mealtime comes, they recover from their wounds and return to feast in Valhalla. =271. The Valkyries.= The Valkyries are warlike virgins, mounted upon horses and armed with helmets, shields, and spears. Odin is desirous of gathering many heroes in Valhalla that he may gloriously meet the giants in the day of the final contest; he therefore sends to every battle field for the bravest of those who shall be slain. The Valkyries, Choosers of the Slain, are his messengers. Later they are called his daughters. When they ride forth on their errand, their armor sheds a weird flickering light over the northern skies, making what men call the Aurora Borealis.[365] =272. Thor and the Other Gods.= Of the following, _Thor_, _Vidar_, _Bragi_, _Balder_, and _Höder_ are sons of Odin. _Thor_, the thunderer, Odin's eldest son, is the strongest of gods and men, and possesses three precious things. The first is a hammer, which both the Frost and the Mountain giants (Hrim-thursar and Berg-risar) know to their cost, when they see it hurled against them in the air, for it has split many a skull of their fathers and kindred. When thrown, it returns to his hand of its own accord. The second rare thing he possesses is the belt of strength. When he girds it about him his divine might is doubled. The third is his iron gloves, which he puts on whenever he would use his mallet efficiently. From Thor's name is derived our word Thursday. _Vidar_ comes next in strength to Thor. _Bragi_ is the god of poetry, and his song records the deeds of warriors. His wife, _Iduna_, keeps in a box the apples which the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of to become young again. _Balder_, dearest of the Anses, is the god of sunlight, spring, and gladness. _Höder_, his opposite, is the blind god of winter. Of other gods, _Freyr_ presides over rain and sunshine and all the fruits of the earth. His sister _Freya_ (Freia) is the most propitious of the goddesses. She loves music, spring, and flowers, and the fairies of Elfheim. She is the goddess of love. Her day is Friday. _Tyr_ (_Ziu_ or _Tiw_), from whose name is derived our Tuesday, is the wrestler among the gods; and preëminently the "god of battles." _Heimdall_ is the watchman of the gods, and is therefore placed on the borders of heaven to prevent the giants from forcing their way over the bridge Bifrost. He requires less sleep than a bird, and sees by night as well as by day a hundred miles around him. So acute is his ear that no sound escapes him, for he can even hear the grass grow,--and the wool on a sheep's back. =273. Loki and his Progeny.= Loki (or Loge) is described as the calumniator of the gods and the contriver of all fraud and mischief. He is the son of Farbauti, the Charon of Norse mythology. He is handsome and well made, but of fickle mood and evil disposition. Although of the demon race, he forced himself into the company of the gods, and seemed to take pleasure in bringing them into difficulties, and in extricating them out of the danger by his cunning, wit, and skill. Loki has three children. The first is the wolf _Fenris_, the second the _Midgard Serpent_, the third _Hela_ (Death). The gods were not ignorant that these monsters were maturing and that they would one day bring much evil upon gods and men. So Odin deemed it advisable to send one to bring them to him. When they came he threw the serpent in that deep ocean by which the earth is surrounded. But the monster has grown to such an enormous size that, holding his tail in his mouth, he encircles the whole earth. Hela he hurled below Niflheim and gave her power over nine worlds or regions, in which she distributes those who are sent to her,--that is, all who die of sickness or old age. Her hall is called Eliudnir, or Sleet-den. Hunger is her table, Starvation her knife, Delay her man, Slowness her maid, Pale Woe her door, Stumbling-stone her threshold, Care her bed; and Falling-peril forms the hangings of her apartments. She may easily be recognized, for her body is half flesh color and half blue, and she presents a stern and forbidding countenance. The wolf Fenris gave the gods a great deal of trouble before they succeeded in chaining him. He broke the strongest fetters as if they were made of cobwebs. Finally the gods sent a messenger to the mountain spirits, who made for them the chain called Gleipnir. It is fashioned of six things,--the noise made by the footfall of a cat, the beards of women, the roots of stones, the breath of fishes, the nerves (sensibilities) of bears, and the spittle of birds. When finished it was as smooth and soft as a silken string. But when the gods asked the wolf to suffer himself to be bound with this apparently slight ribbon, he suspected their design, fearing that it was made by enchantment. He therefore consented to be bound with it only upon condition that one of the gods put his hand in his (Fenris') mouth as a pledge that the band was to be removed again. Tyr alone had courage enough to do this. But when the wolf found that he could not break his fetters and that the gods would not release him, he bit off Tyr's hand. Tyr, consequently, has ever since remained one-handed. =274. The Conflict with the Mountain Giants.= When the gods were constructing their abodes and had already finished Midgard and Valhalla, a certain artificer came and offered to build them a residence so well fortified that they should be perfectly safe from the incursions of the Frost giants and the giants of the mountains. But he demanded for his reward the goddess Freya, together with the sun and moon. The gods yielded to the terms, provided that the artificer would finish the whole work without any one's assistance, and all within the space of one winter. But if anything remained unfinished on the first day of summer, he should forfeit the recompense agreed on. On being told these terms, the artificer stipulated that he be allowed the use of his horse Svadilfari, and this request, by the advice of Loki, was conceded. He accordingly set to work on the first day of winter, and during the night let his horse draw stone for the building. The enormous size of the stones struck the gods with astonishment, and they saw clearly that the horse did one half more of the toilsome work than his master. Their bargain, however, had been concluded and confirmed by solemn oaths, for without these precautions a giant would not have thought himself safe among the gods,--still less, indeed, if Thor should return from the expedition he had then undertaken against the evil demons. As the winter drew to a close the building was far advanced, and the bulwarks were sufficiently high and massive to render the place impregnable. In short, when it wanted but three days to summer, the only part that remained to be finished was the gateway. Then sat the gods on their seats of justice and entered into consultation, inquiring of one another who among them could have advised the rest to surrender Freya, or to plunge the heavens in darkness by permitting the giant to carry away the sun and the moon. They all agreed that no one but Loki, the author of so many evil deeds, could have given such counsel, and that he should be put to a cruel death unless he contrived some way to prevent the artificer from completing his task and obtaining the stipulated recompense. They proceeded to lay hands on Loki, who in his fright promised upon oath that, let it cost him what it might, he would so manage matters that the man should lose his reward. That night when the man went with Svadilfari for building-stone, a mare suddenly ran out of a forest and began to neigh. The horse thereat broke loose and ran after the mare into the forest, obliging the man also to run after his horse; thus, therefore, between one and another the whole night was lost, so that at dawn the work had not made the usual progress. The man, seeing that he must fail of completing his task, resumed his own gigantic stature, and the gods now clearly perceived that it was in reality a mountain giant who had come amongst them. Feeling no longer bound by their oaths, they called on Thor, who immediately ran to their assistance and, lifting up his mallet, paid the workman his wages, not with the sun and moon, and not even by sending him back to Jötunheim, for with the first blow he shattered the giant's skull to pieces and hurled him headlong into Niflheim. =275. The Recovery of Thor's Hammer.= Soon afterward it happened that Thor's hammer fell into the possession of the giant Thrym, who buried it eight fathoms deep under the rocks of Jötunheim. Thor sent Loki to negotiate with Thrym, but he could only prevail so far as to get the giant's promise to restore the weapon if Freya would consent to be his bride. Loki returned and reported the result of his mission, but the goddess of love was horrified at the idea of bestowing her charms on the king of the Frost giants. In this emergency Loki persuaded Thor to dress himself in Freya's clothes and accompany him to Jötunheim. Thrym received his veiled bride with due courtesy, but was greatly surprised at seeing her eat for her supper eight salmon and a full-grown ox besides other delicacies, washing the whole down with three tuns of mead. Loki, however, assured him that she had not tasted anything for eight long nights, so great was her desire to see her lover, the renowned ruler of Jötunheim. Thrym had at last the curiosity to peep under his bride's veil, but started back in affright, and demanded why Freya's eyeballs glistened with fire. Loki repeated the same excuse, and the giant was satisfied. He ordered the hammer to be brought in and laid on the maiden's lap. Thereupon Thor threw off his disguise, grasped his redoubted weapon, and slaughtered Thrym and all his followers. =276. Thor's Visit to Jötunheim.= One day Thor, with his servant Thialfi and accompanied by Loki, set out for the giants' country. Thialfi was of all men the swiftest of foot. He bore Thor's wallet containing their provisions. When night came on they found themselves in an immense forest, and searched on all sides for a place where they might pass the night. At last they came to a large hall, with an entrance that took the whole breadth of one end of the building. Here they lay down to sleep, but towards midnight were alarmed by an earthquake which shook the whole edifice. Thor, rising up, called on his companions to seek with him a place of safety. On the right they found an adjoining chamber into which the others entered, but Thor remained at the doorway with his mallet in his hand, prepared to defend himself whatever might happen. A terrible groaning was heard during the night, and at dawn of day Thor went out and found lying near him a huge giant, still snoring in the way that had alarmed them. For once Thor was afraid to use his mallet, and as the giant soon waked up, Thor contented himself with simply asking his name. "My name is Skrymir," said the giant, "but I need not ask thy name, for I know that thou art the god Thor. But what has become of my glove?" Thor then perceived that what they had taken overnight for a hall was the giant's glove, and the chamber where his two companions had sought refuge was the thumb. Skrymir then proposed that they should travel in company, and Thor consenting, they sat down to eat their breakfast. When they had done, Skrymir packed all the provisions into one wallet, threw it over his shoulder, and strode on before them, taking such tremendous strides that they were hard put to it to keep up with him. So they traveled the whole day, and at dusk Skrymir chose a place for them to pass the night in under a large oak tree. Skrymir then told them he would lie down to sleep. "But take ye the wallet," he added, "and prepare your supper." Skrymir soon fell asleep and began to snore strongly, but when Thor tried to open the wallet, he found the giant had tied it up so tight he could not untie a single knot. At last Thor became wroth, and grasping his mallet with both hands, he struck a furious blow on the giant's head. Skrymir, awakening, merely asked whether a leaf had not fallen on his head, and whether they had supped and were ready to go to sleep. Thor answered that they were just going to sleep, and so saying went and laid himself down under another tree. But sleep came not that night to Thor, and when Skrymir snored again so loud that the forest reëchoed with the noise, he arose, and, grasping his mallet, launched it with such force at the giant's skull that it made a deep dint in it. Skrymir, awakening, cried out: "What's the matter? Are there any birds perched on this tree? I felt some moss from the branches fall on my head. How fares it with thee, Thor?" But Thor went away hastily, saying that he had just then awoke, and, that as it was only midnight, there was still time for sleep. He, however, resolved that if he had an opportunity of striking a third blow, it should settle all matters between them. A little before daybreak he perceived that Skrymir was again fast asleep, and again grasping his mallet, he dashed it with such violence that it forced its way into the giant's skull up to the handle. But Skrymir sat up, and, stroking his cheek, said: "An acorn fell on my head. What! Art thou awake, Thor? Methinks it is time for us to get up and dress ourselves; but you have not now a long way before you to the city called Utgard. I have heard you whispering to one another that I am not a man of small dimensions, but if you come to Utgard, you will see there many men much taller than I. Wherefore I advise you, when you come there, not to make too much of yourselves; for the followers of Utgard-Loki will not brook the boasting of such little fellows as you are. You must take the road that leads eastward; mine lies northward, so we must part here." Hereupon he threw his wallet over his shoulders and turned away from them into the forest, and Thor had no wish to stop him or to ask for any more of his company. Thor and his companions proceeded on their way, and towards noon descried a city standing in the middle of a plain. It was so lofty that they were obliged to bend their necks quite back on their shoulders in order to see to the top of it. On arriving they entered the city, and seeing a large palace before them with the door wide open, they went in and found a number of men of prodigious stature, sitting on benches in the hall. Going further, they came before the king Utgard-Loki, whom they saluted with great respect. The king, regarding them with a scornful smile, said, "If I do not mistake me, that stripling yonder must be the god Thor." Then addressing himself to Thor, he said: "Perhaps thou mayst be more than thou appearest to be. What are the feats that thou and thy fellows deem yourselves skilled in?--for no one is permitted to remain here who does not, in some feat or other, excel all other men." "The feat that I know," said Loki, "is to eat quicker than any one else, and in this I am ready to give a proof against any one here who may choose to compete with me." "That will indeed be a feat, if thou performest what thou promisest," said Utgard-Loki, "and it shall be tried forthwith." He then ordered one of his men, who was sitting at the farther end of the bench and whose name was Logi, to come forward and try his skill with Loki. A trough filled with meat having been set on the hall floor, Loki placed himself at one end and Logi at the other, and each of them began to eat as fast as he could, until they met in the middle of the trough. But it was found that Loki had only eaten the flesh, while his adversary had devoured both flesh and bone, and the trough to boot. All the company therefore adjudged that Loki was vanquished. Utgard-Loki then asked what feat the young man who accompanied Thor could perform. Thialfi answered that he would run a race with any one who might be matched against him. The king observed that skill in running was something to boast of, but if the youth would win the match, he must display great agility. He then arose and went, with all who were present, to a plain where there was good ground for running on, and calling a young man named Hugi, bade him run a match with Thialfi. In the first course Hugi so much outstripped his competitor that he turned back and met him not far from the starting-place. Then they ran a second and a third time, but Thialfi met with no better success. Utgard-Loki then asked Thor in what feats he would choose to give proofs of that prowess for which he was so famous. Thor answered that he would try a drinking-match with any one. Utgard-Loki bade his cupbearer bring the large horn which his followers were obliged to empty when they had trespassed in any way against the law of the feast. The cupbearer having presented it to Thor, Utgard-Loki said, "Whoever is a good drinker will empty that horn at a single draft, though most men make two of it; but the most puny drinker can do it in three." Thor looked at the horn, which seemed of no extraordinary size, though somewhat long; however, as he was very thirsty, he set it to his lips and, without drawing breath, pulled as long and as deeply as he could, that he might not be obliged to make a second draft of it; but when he set the horn down and looked in, he could scarcely perceive that the liquor was diminished. After taking breath, Thor went to it again with all his might, but when he took the horn from his mouth, it seemed to him that he had drank rather less than before, although the horn could now be carried without spilling. "How now, Thor," said Utgard-Loki, "thou must not spare thyself; if thou meanest to drain the horn at the third draft, thou must pull deeply; and I must needs say that thou wilt not be called so mighty a man here as thou art at home if thou showest no greater prowess in other feats than methinks will be shown in this." Thor, full of wrath, again set the horn to his lips and did his best to empty it; but on looking in found the liquor was only a little lower, so he resolved to make no further attempt, but gave back the horn to the cupbearer. "I now see plainly," said Utgard-Loki, "that thou art not quite so stout as we thought thee; but wilt thou try any other feat?--though methinks thou art not likely to bear any prize away with thee hence." "What new trial hast thou to propose?" said Thor. "We have a very trifling game here," answered Utgard-Loki, "in which we exercise none but children. It consists in merely lifting my cat from the ground; nor should I have dared to mention such a feat to the great Thor if I had not already observed that thou art by no means what we took thee for." As he finished speaking a large gray cat sprang on the hall floor. Thor put his hand under the cat's belly and did his utmost to raise him from the floor, but the cat, bending his back, had, notwithstanding all Thor's efforts, only one of his feet lifted up, seeing which Thor made no further attempt. "This trial has turned out," said Utgard-Loki, "just as I imagined it would. The cat is large, but Thor is little in comparison to our men." "Little as ye call me," answered Thor, "let me see who among you will come hither now that I am in wrath and wrestle with me." "I see no one here," said Utgard-Loki, looking at the men sitting on the benches, "who would not think it beneath him to wrestle with thee; let somebody, however, call hither that old crone, my nurse Elli, and let Thor wrestle with her if he will. She has thrown to the ground many a man not less strong than this Thor is." A toothless old woman then entered the hall, and was told by Utgard-Loki to take hold of Thor. The tale is shortly told. The more Thor tightened his hold on the crone the firmer she stood. At length, after a very violent struggle, Thor began to lose his footing, and was finally brought down upon one knee. Utgard-Loki then told them to desist, adding that Thor had now no occasion to ask any one else in the hall to wrestle with him, and it was also getting late; so he showed Thor and his companions to their seats, and they passed the night there in good cheer. The next morning, at break of day, Thor and his companions dressed themselves and prepared for their departure. Utgard-Loki ordered a table to be set for them, on which there was no lack of victuals or drink. After the repast Utgard-Loki led them to the gate of the city, and on parting asked Thor how he thought his journey had turned out and whether he had met with any men stronger than himself. Thor told him that he could not deny but that he had brought great shame on himself. "And what grieves me most," he added, "is that ye will call me a person of little worth." "Nay," said Utgard-Loki, "it behooves me to tell thee the truth, now thou art out of the city, which so long as I live and have my way thou shalt never enter again. And, by my troth, had I known beforehand that thou hadst so much strength in thee, and wouldst have brought me so near to a great mishap I would not have suffered thee to enter this time. Know then that I have all along deceived thee by my illusions; first in the forest, where I tied up the wallet with iron wire so that thou couldst not untie it. After this thou gavest me three blows with thy mallet; the first, though the least, would have ended my days had it fallen on me, but I slipped aside and thy blows fell on the mountain, where thou wilt find three glens, one of them remarkably deep. These are the dints made by thy mallet. I have made use of similar illusions in the contests ye have had with my followers. In the first, Loki, like hunger itself, devoured all that was set before him, but Logi was in reality nothing else than Fire, and therefore consumed not only the meat but the trough which held it. Hugi, with whom Thialfi contended in running, was Thought, and it was impossible for Thialfi to keep pace with that. When thou, in thy turn, didst attempt to empty the horn, thou didst perform, by my troth, a deed so marvelous that had I not seen it myself I should never have believed it. For one end of that horn reached the sea, which thou wast not aware of, but when thou comest to the shore thou wilt perceive how much the sea has sunk by thy drafts. Thou didst perform a feat no less wonderful by lifting up the cat, and to tell thee the truth, when we saw that one of his paws was off the floor, we were all of us terror-stricken, for what thou tookest for a cat was in reality the Midgard serpent that encompasseth the earth, and he was so stretched by thee that he was barely long enough to inclose it between his head and tail. Thy wrestling with Elli was also a most astonishing feat, for there was never yet a man, nor ever will be, whom Old Age, for such in fact was Elli, will not sooner or later lay low. But now, as we are going to part, let me tell thee that it will be better for both of us if thou never come near me again, for shouldst thou do so, I shall again defend myself by other illusions, so that thou wilt only lose thy labor and get no fame from the contest with me." On hearing these words Thor, in a rage, laid hold of his mallet and would have launched it at him, but Utgard-Loki had disappeared, and when Thor would have returned to the city to destroy it, he found nothing around him but a verdant plain. =277. The Sword of Freyr.= Freyr also possessed a wonderful weapon, a sword which would of itself spread a field with carnage whenever the owner desired it. Freyr parted with this sword, but was less fortunate than Thor and never recovered it. It happened in this way: Freyr once mounted Odin's throne, from whence one can see over the whole universe, and looking round, saw far off in the giant's kingdom a beautiful maid, at the sight of whom he was struck with sudden sadness, insomuch that from that moment he could neither sleep nor drink nor speak. At last Skirnir, his messenger, drew his secret from him, and undertook to get him the maiden for his bride, if he would give him his sword as a reward. Freyr consented and gave him the sword, and Skirnir set off on his journey and obtained the maiden's promise that within nine nights she would come to a certain place and there wed Freyr. Skirnir having reported the success of his errand, Freyr exclaimed: "Long is one night, Long are two nights, But how shall I hold out three? Shorter hath seemed A month to me oft Than of this longing time the half." So Freyr obtained Gerda, the most beautiful of all women, for his wife, but he lost his sword. =278. The Death of Balder.= Balder the Good, having been tormented with terrible dreams indicating that his life was in peril, told them to the assembled gods, who resolved to conjure all things to avert from him the threatened danger. Then Frigga, the wife of Odin, exacted an oath from fire and water, from iron and all other metals, from stones, trees, diseases, beasts, birds, poisons, and creeping things, that none of them would do any harm to Balder. Odin, not satisfied with all this, and feeling alarmed for the fate of his son, determined to consult the prophetess Angerbode, a giantess, mother of Fenris, Hela, and the Midgard serpent. She was dead, and Odin was forced to seek her in Hela's dominions. But the other gods, feeling that what Frigga had done was quite sufficient, amused themselves with using Balder as a mark, some hurling darts at him, some stones, while others hewed at him with their swords and battle-axes, for do what they would, none of them could harm him. And this became a favorite pastime with them, and was regarded as an honor shown to Balder. But when Loki beheld the scene, he was sorely vexed that Balder was not hurt. Assuming, therefore, the shape of a woman, he went to Fensalir, the mansion of Frigga. That goddess, when she saw the pretended woman, inquired of her if she knew what the gods were doing at their meetings. She replied that they were throwing darts and stones at Balder, without being able to hurt him. "Ay," said Frigga, "neither stones, nor sticks, nor anything else can hurt Balder, for I have exacted an oath from all of them." "What," exclaimed the woman, "have all things sworn to spare Balder?" "All things," replied Frigga, "except one little shrub that grows on the eastern side of Valhalla and is called Mistletoe, which I thought too young and feeble to crave an oath from." As soon as Loki heard this he went away and, resuming his natural shape, cut off the mistletoe and repaired to the place where the gods were assembled. There he found Höder standing apart, without partaking of the sports on account of his blindness, and going up to him said, "Why dost thou not also throw something at Balder?" "Because I am blind," answered Höder, "and see not where Balder is, and have, moreover, nothing to throw." "Come, then," said Loki, "do like the rest and show honor to Balder by throwing this twig at him, and I will direct thy arm toward the place where he stands." Höder then took the mistletoe and, under the guidance of Loki, darted it at Balder, who, pierced through and through, fell down lifeless. Never was there witnessed, either among gods or men, a more atrocious deed. So on the floor lay Balder dead; and round[366] Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears, Which all the gods in sport had idly thrown At Balder, whom no weapon pierced or clove; But in his breast stood fixt the fatal bough Of mistletoe, which Lok the accuser gave To Höder, and unwitting Höder threw-- 'Gainst that alone had Balder's life no charm. And all the gods and all the heroes came, And stood round Balder on the bloody floor, Weeping and wailing; and Valhalla rang Up to its golden roof with sobs and cries; And on the tables stood the untasted meats, And in the horns and gold-rimmed skulls the wine. And now would night have fall'n and found them yet Wailing; but otherwise was Odin's will. He bade them not to spend themselves in unavailing grief, for Balder, though the brightest god of heaven and best beloved, had but met the doom ordained at his birth by the Norns. Rather let the funeral pile be prepared, and let vengeance on Loki be left to Odin himself. So speaking, Odin mounted his horse Sleipnir and rode away to Lidskialf, and the gods in Valhalla returned to the feast: And before each the cooks, who served them, placed New messes of the boar Serimnir's flesh, And the Valkyries crowned their horns with mead. So they, with pent-up hearts and tearless eyes, Wailing no more, in silence ate and drank, While twilight fell, and sacred night came on. But the blind Höder, leaving the gods, went by the sea to Fensalir, the house of Frigga, mother of the gods, to ask her what way there might be of restoring Balder to life and heaven. Might Hela perchance surrender Balder if Höder himself should take his place among the shades? "Nay," replied Frigga, "no way is there but one, that the first god thou meetest on the return to Asgard take Sleipnir, Odin's horse, and ride o'er the bridge Bifrost where is Heimdall's watch, past Midgard fortress, down the dark, unknown road to Hel, and there entreat the goddess Hela that she yield Balder back to heaven." Höder, returning cityward, met Hermod, swiftest of the gods,-- Nor yet could Hermod see his brother's face, For it grew dark; but Höder touched his arm. And as a spray of honeysuckle flowers Brushes across a tired traveler's face Who shuffles through the deep dew-moisten'd dust On a May evening, in the darken'd lanes, And starts him, that he thinks a ghost went by, So Höder brush'd by Hermod's side, and said: "Take Sleipnir, Hermod, and set forth with dawn To Hela's kingdom, to ask Balder back; And they shall be thy guides who have the power." He spake, and brush'd soft by and disappear'd. And Hermod gazed into the night, and said: "Who is it utters through the dark his hest So quickly, and will wait for no reply? The voice was like the unhappy Höder's voice. Howbeit I will see, and do his hest; For there rang note divine in that command." So speaking, the fleet-footed Hermod came Home, and lay down to sleep in his own house; And all the gods lay down in their own homes. And Höder, too, came home distraught with grief, Loathing to meet, at dawn, the other gods; And he went in, and shut the door, and fixt His sword upright, and fell on it, and died. But from the hill of Lidskialf Odin rose, The throne, from which his eye surveys the world; And mounted Sleipnir, and in darkness rode To Asgard. And the stars came out in heaven, High over Asgard, to light home the king. But fiercely Odin gallop'd, moved in heart: And swift to Asgard, to the gate he came, And terribly the hoofs of Sleipnir rang Along the flinty floor of Asgard streets, And the gods trembled on their golden beds Hearing the wrathful father coming home-- For dread, for like a whirlwind Odin came. And to Valhalla's gate he rode, and left Sleipnir; and Sleipnir went to his own stall, And in Valhalla Odin laid him down. That night in a vision appeared Balder to Nanna his wife, comforting her: "Yes, and I fain would altogether ward Death from thy head, and with the gods in heaven Prolong thy life, though not by thee desired-- But right bars this, not only thy desire. Yet dreary, Nanna, is the life they lead In that dim world, in Hela's moldering realm; And doleful are the ghosts, the troops of dead, Whom Hela with austere control presides. For of the race of gods is no one there Save me alone, and Hela, solemn queen; For all the nobler souls of mortal men On battle field have met their death, and now Feast in Valhalla, in my father's hall; Only the inglorious sort are there below-- The old, the cowards, and the weak are there, Men spent by sickness, or obscure decay. But even there, O Nanna, we might find Some solace in each other's look and speech, Wandering together through that gloomy world, And talking of the life we led in heaven, While we yet lived, among the other gods." He spake, and straight his lineaments began To fade; and Nanna in her sleep stretch'd out Her arms towards him with a cry, but he Mournfully shook his head and disappear'd. And as the woodman sees a little smoke Hang in the air, afield, and disappear, So Balder faded in the night away. And Nanna on her bed sank back; but then Frea, the mother of the gods, with stroke Painless and swift, set free her airy soul, Which took, on Balder's track, the way below; And instantly the sacred morn appear'd. With the morn Hermod, mounting Sleipnir, set out on his mission. For the space of nine days and as many nights he rode through deep glens so dark that he could not discern anything, until he arrived at the river Gyoll, which he passed over on a bridge covered with glittering gold. The maiden who kept the bridge asked him his name and lineage, telling him that the day before five bands of dead persons had ridden over the bridge, and did not shake it as much as he alone. "But," she added, "thou hast not death's hue on thee; why then ridest thou here on the way to Hel?" "I ride to Hel," answered Hermod, "to seek Balder. Hast thou perchance seen him pass this way?" She replied, "Balder hath ridden over Gyoll's bridge, and yonder lieth the way he took to the abodes of death." Hermod pursued his journey until he came to the barred gates of Hel. Here he alighted, girthed his saddle tighter, and remounting clapped both spurs to his horse, which cleared the gate by a tremendous leap without touching it. Hermod then rode on to the palace, where he found his brother Balder occupying the most distinguished seat in the hall, and passed the night in his company. The next morning he besought Hela to let Balder ride home with him, assuring her that nothing but lamentations were to be heard among the gods. Hela answered that it should now be tried whether Balder was so beloved as he was said to be. "If, therefore," she added, "all things in the world, both living and lifeless, weep for him, then shall he return to life; but if any one thing speak against him or refuse to weep, he shall be kept in Hel." Hermod then rode back to Asgard and gave an account of all he had heard and witnessed. The gods upon this dispatched messengers throughout the world to beg everything to weep in order that Balder might be delivered from Hel. All things very willingly complied with this request, both men and every other living being, as well as earths, and stones, and trees, and metals, just as we have all seen these things weep when they are brought from a cold place into a hot one. Then the messengers returned,-- ... And they rode home together, through the wood Of Jarnvid, which to east of Midgard lies Bordering the giants, where the trees are iron; There in the wood before a cave they came, Where sate in the cave's mouth a skinny hag, Toothless and old; she gibes the passers-by. Thok is she called, but now Lok wore her shape; She greeted them the first, and laughed and said: "Ye gods, good lack, is it so dull in heaven That ye come pleasuring to Thok's iron wood? Lovers of change, ye are, fastidious sprites. Look, as in some boor's yard, a sweet-breath'd cow, Whose manger is stuffed full of good fresh hay, Snuffs at it daintily, and stoops her head To chew the straw, her litter at her feet-- So ye grow squeamish, gods, and sniff at heaven!" She spake, but Hermod answered her and said, "Thok, not for gibes we come; we come for tears. Balder is dead, and Hela holds her prey, But will restore, if all things give him tears. Begrudge not thine! to all was Balder dear." Then, with a louder laugh, the hag replied: "Is Balder dead? and do ye come for tears? Thok with dry eyes will weep o'er Balder's pyre. Weep him all other things, if weep they will-- I weep him not! let Hela keep her prey." She spake, and to the cavern's depth she fled, Mocking; and Hermod knew their toil was vain.[367] So was Balder prevented from returning to Asgard. =279. The Funeral of Balder.= The gods took up the dead body and bore it to the seashore, where stood Balder's ship Hringham, which passed for the largest in the world. Balder's dead body was put on the funeral pile, on board the ship; and the body of Nanna was burned on the same pile with her husband's. There was a vast concourse of various kinds of people at Balder's obsequies. First came Odin accompanied by Frigga, the Valkyries, and his ravens; then Freyr in his car drawn by Gullinbursti, the boar; Heimdall rode his horse Gulltopp, and Freya drove in her chariot drawn by cats. There were also a great many Frost giants and giants of the mountain present. Balder's horse was led to the pile fully caparisoned, and was consumed in the same flames with his master. [Illustration: FIG. 187. LOKI AND SIGUNA From the painting by Gebhardt] But Loki did not escape his merited punishment. When he saw how wroth the gods were, he fled to the mountain and there built himself a hut with four doors, so that he could see every approaching danger. He invented a net to catch the fishes, such as fishermen have used since his time. But Odin found out his hiding place and the gods assembled to take him. He, seeing this, changed himself into a salmon and lay hid among the stones of the brook. But the gods took his net and dragged the brook, and Loki, finding he must be caught, tried to leap over the net; but Thor caught him by the tail, and compressed it so that salmon ever since have had that part remarkably fine and thin. They bound him with chains and suspended a serpent over his head, whose venom falls upon his face drop by drop. His wife, Siguna, sits by his side and catches the drops as they fall, in a cup; but when she carries it away to empty it, the venom falls upon Loki, which makes him howl with horror and writhe so that the whole earth shakes. =280. The Elves.= The Edda mentions another class of beings, inferior to the gods, but still possessed of great power; these were the Elves. The white spirits, or Elves of Light, were exceedingly fair, more brilliant than the sun, and clad in garments of a delicate and transparent texture. They loved the light, were kindly disposed to mankind, and generally appeared as fair and lovely children. Their country was called Elfheim, and was the domain of Freyr, in whose sunlight they always sported. The black elves, ugly, long-nosed dwarfs, of a dirty brown color, appeared only at night. They avoided the sun as their most deadly enemy, because his beams changed them immediately into stones. Their language was the echo of solitudes, and their dwelling places subterranean caves and clefts. They were supposed to have come into existence as maggots produced by the decaying flesh of Ymir's body. They were afterwards endowed by the gods with a human form and great understanding. They were particularly distinguished for a knowledge of the mysterious powers of nature, and for the runes which they carved and explained. They were the most skillful artificers of all created beings, and worked in metals and in wood. Among their most noted works were Thor's hammer, and the ship _Skidbladnir_, which they gave to Freyr. This vessel was so large that it could contain all the deities with their war and household implements, but so skillfully was it wrought that when folded together it could be put into a side pocket. =281. Ragnarok.= It was a firm belief of the Northern nations that a time would come when all the visible creation, the gods of Valhalla and Niflheim, the inhabitants of Jötunheim, Elfheim, and Midgard, together with their habitations, would be destroyed. The fearful day of destruction will not however be without warning. First will come a triple winter, during which snow will fall from the four corners of the heavens, the frost be severe, the wind piercing, the weather tempestuous, and the sun impart no gladness. Three such winters will pass without being tempered by a single summer. Three other like winters will follow, during which war and discord will spread over the universe. The earth itself will be afraid and begin to tremble, the sea leave its basin, the heavens tear asunder; men will perish in great numbers, and the eagles of the air feast upon their still quivering bodies. The wolf Fenris will now break his bands, the Midgard serpent rise out of his bed in the sea, and Loki, released from his bonds, will join the enemies of the gods. Amidst the general devastation the sons of Muspelheim will rush forth under their leader Surter, before and behind whom are flames and burning fire. Onward they ride over Bifrost, the rainbow bridge, which breaks under the horses' hoofs. But they, disregarding its fall, direct their course to the battle field called Vigrid. Thither also repair the wolf Fenris, the Midgard serpent, Loki, with all the followers of Hela, and the Frost giants. Heimdall now stands up and sounds the Giallar horn to assemble the gods and heroes for the contest. The gods advance, led on by Odin, who, engaging the wolf Fenris, falls a victim to the monster. Fenris is, in turn, slain by Vidar, Odin's son. Thor wins great renown by killing the Midgard serpent, but, recoiling, falls dead, suffocated with the venom which the dying monster vomits over him. Loki and Heimdall meet and fight till they both are slain. The gods and their enemies having fallen in battle, Surter, who has killed Freyr, darts fire and flames over the world, and the universe is consumed. The sun grows dim, the earth sinks into the ocean, the stars fall from heaven, and time is no more. After this Alfadur (not Odin but the Almighty) will cause a new heaven and a new earth to arise out of the sea. The new earth, filled with abundant supplies, will produce its fruits without labor or care. Wickedness and misery will no more be known, but the gods and men will live happily together. This twilight of the gods is aptly described in a conversation held between Balder and Hermod, after Hermod has a second time ridden to Hel: And the fleet-footed Hermod made reply:[368]-- "Thou hast then all the solace death allows, Esteem and function; and so far is well. Yet here thou liest, Balder, underground, Rusting for ever; and the years roll on, The generations pass, the ages grow, And bring us nearer to the final day When from the south shall march the fiery band And cross the bridge of heaven, with Lok for guide, And Fenris at his heel with broken chain; While from the east the giant Rymer steers His ship, and the great serpent makes to land; And all are marshal'd in one flaming square Against the gods, upon the plains of heaven. I mourn thee, that thou canst not help us then." He spake; but Balder answered him, and said:-- "Mourn not for me! Mourn, Hermod, for the gods; Mourn for the men on earth, the gods in heaven, Who live, and with their eyes shall see that day! The day will come, when fall shall Asgard's towers, And Odin, and his sons, the seed of Heaven; But what were I, to save them in that hour? If strength might save them, could not Odin save, My father, and his pride, the warrior Thor, Vidar the silent, the impetuous Tyr? I, what were I, when these can nought avail? Yet, doubtless, when the day of battle comes, And the two hosts are marshal'd, and in heaven The golden-crested cock shall sound alarm, And his black brother-bird from hence reply, And bucklers clash, and spears begin to pour-- Longing will stir within my breast, though vain. But not to me so grievous as, I know, To other gods it were, is my enforced Absence from fields where I could nothing aid; For I am long since weary of your storm Of carnage, and find, Hermod, in your life Something too much of war and broils, which make Life one perpetual fight, a bath of blood. Mine eyes are dizzy with the arrowy hail; Mine ears are stunn'd with blows, and sick for calm. Inactive, therefore, let me lie in gloom, Unarm'd, inglorious; I attend the course Of ages, and my late return to light, In times less alien to a spirit mild, In new-recover'd seats, the happier day." He spake; and the fleet Hermod thus replied:-- "Brother, what seats are these, what happier day? Tell me, that I may ponder it when gone." And the ray-crownèd Balder answered him:-- "Far to the south, beyond the blue, there spreads Another heaven, the boundless--no one yet Hath reach'd it; there hereafter shall arise The second Asgard, with another name. Thither, when o'er this present earth and heavens The tempest of the latter days hath swept, And they from sight have disappear'd and sunk, Shall a small remnant of the gods repair; Höder and I shall join them from the grave. There reassembling we shall see emerge From the bright ocean at our feet an earth More fresh, more verdant than the last, with fruits Self-springing, and a seed of man preserved, Who then shall live in peace, as now in war. But we in heaven shall find again with joy The ruin'd palaces of Odin, seats Familiar, halls where we have supp'd of old, Reënter them with wonder, never fill Our eyes with gazing, and rebuild with tears. And we shall tread once more the well-known plain Of Ida, and among the grass shall find The golden dice wherewith we played of yore; And that shall bring to mind the former life And pastime of the gods--the wise discourse Of Odin, the delights of other days. O Hermod, pray that thou may'st join us then! Such for the future is my hope; meanwhile, I rest the thrall of Hela, and endure Death, and the gloom which round me even now Thickens, and to inner gulf recalls. Farewell, for longer speech is not allow'd." FOOTNOTES: [364] For Records of Norse Mythology, see § 300, and Commentary, §§ 268, 282, and 300. [365] Gray's ode, The Fatal Sisters, is founded on this superstition. [366] From Matthew Arnold's Balder Dead. [367] From Matthew Arnold's Balder Dead. [368] From Matthew Arnold's Balder Dead. CHAPTER XXVIII MYTHS OF NORSE AND OLD GERMAN HEROES =282. The Saga of the Volsungs.=[369] Sigi, son of Odin, was a mighty king of the Huns whom Odin loved and prospered exceedingly. Rerir, also, the son of Sigi, was a man of valor and one who got lordship and land unto himself; but neither Sigi nor Rerir were to compare with _Volsung_, who ruled over Hunland after his father Rerir went home to Odin. To Volsung were born ten sons and one daughter,--Signy by name; and of the sons _Sigmund_ was the eldest and the most valiant. And the Volsungs abode in peace till Siggeir, king of Gothland, came wooing Signy, who, though loath to accept him, was, by her father's desire, betrothed to him. Now on the night of the wedding great fires were made in the hall of the Volsungs, and in the midst stood Branstock, a great oak tree, about which the hall had been built, and the limbs of the tree spread over the roof of the hall; and round about Branstock they sat and feasted, and sang of ancient heroes and heard the music of the harp that went from hand to hand. But e'en as men's hearts were hearkening some heard the thunder pass[370] O'er the cloudless noontide heaven; and some men turned about And deemed that in the doorway they heard a man laugh out. Then into the Volsung dwelling a mighty man there strode, One-eyed and seeming ancient, yet bright his visage glowed; Cloud-blue was the hood upon him, and his kirtle gleaming-gray As the latter morning sun-dog when the storm is on the way; A bill he bore on his shoulder, whose mighty ashen beam Burnt bright with the flame of the sea, and the blended silver's gleam. And such was the guise of his raiment as the Volsung elders had told Was borne by their fathers' fathers, and the first that warred in the wold. So strode he to the Branstock, nor greeted any lord, But forth from his cloudy raiment he drew a gleaming sword, And smote it deep in the tree-bole, and the wild hawks overhead Laughed 'neath the naked heaven as at last he spake and said: "Earls of the Goths, and Volsungs, abiders on the earth, Lo there amid the Branstock a blade of plenteous worth! The folk of the war-wand's forgers wrought never better steel Since first the burg of heaven uprose for man-folk's weal. Now let the man among you whose heart and hand may shift To pluck it from the oak-wood e'en take it for my gift. Then ne'er, but his own heart falter, its point and edge shall fail Until the night's beginning and the ending of the tale. Be merry, Earls of the Goth-folk, O Volsung Sons be wise, And reap the battle-acre that ripening for you lies: For they told me in the wild wood, I heard on the mountain-side That the shining house of heaven is wrought exceeding wide, And that there the Early-comers shall have abundant rest While Earth grows scant of great ones, and fadeth from its best, And fadeth from its midward, and groweth poor and vile:-- All hail to thee, King Volsung! farewell for a little while!" So sweet his speaking sounded, so wise his words did seem That moveless all men sat there, as in a happy dream We stir not lest we waken; but there his speech had end And slowly down the hall-floor, and outward did he wend; And none would cast him a question or follow on his ways, For they knew that the gift was Odin's, a sword for the world to praise. Then all made trial, Siggeir and his earls, and Volsung and his people, to draw forth the sword from Branstock, but with no success, till Sigmund, laying his hand carelessly on the precious hilt, drew forth the naked blade as though it were loose in the oak. Whereupon Siggeir offered money for the sword, but Sigmund scorned the offer. But in time Siggeir had his vengeance. Inviting King Volsung and his sons to Gothland, he fell upon them, slew the king, and suffered the sons, fastened under a log, to be devoured in succession by a she-wolf--all but Sigmund, who through the wile of his sister Signy was rescued. He, driven to the life of an outlaw, sought means to avenge his father, and Signy, on her part, strove to aid him,--without avail, however, till Sinfiotli, the son of herself and Sigmund, was grown to manhood. This youth bore Sigmund company. For a season, as wolves, they scoured the woods; finally resuming the form of men, they slew the children of Siggeir and burned him in his hall. Signy, having helped to avenge her father, died with her husband. Sigmund, thereupon, became king, and took to himself a wife. But she, suffering injury at the hands of Sinfiotli, poisoned him with a horn of ale. Then Sigmund sorrowed nigh to death over his son, and drove away that queen, and soon after she died. He then married Hiordis the fair; but before long, doing battle against Lyngi, the son of Hunding,--a chieftain who also had loved the fair Hiordis,--he got his death wound: For lo, through the hedge of the war-shafts a mighty man there came, One-eyed and seeming ancient, but his visage shone like flame; Gleaming-gray was his kirtle, and his hood was cloudy-blue; And he bore a mighty twibil, as he waded the fight-sheaves through, And stood face to face with Sigmund, and upheaved the bill to smite. Once more round the head of the Volsung fierce glittered the Branstock's light, The sword that came from Odin; and Sigmund's cry once more Rang out to the very heavens above the din of war. Then clashed the meeting edges with Sigmund's latest stroke, And in shivering shards fell earthward that fear of worldly folk. But changed were the eyes of Sigmund, and the war-wrath left his face; For that gray-clad mighty helper was gone, and in his place Drave on the unbroken spear-wood 'gainst the Volsung's empty hands: And there they smote down Sigmund, the wonder of all lands, On the foemen, on the death-heap his deeds had piled that day. To Hiordis, after Sigmund's death, was born _Sigurd_, like whom was never man for comeliness and valor and great-heartedness and might. He was the greatest of the Volsungs. His foster-father was Regin, the son of Rodmar, a blacksmith, who taught him the lore of runes and many tongues; and, by means of a story of ancient wrongs, incited him to the destruction of the dragon Fafnir. For Regin told that while the gods, Odin and H[oe]nir, were wandering with Loki near Rodmar's house, Loki slew one of Rodmar's sons, Otter. Whereupon Rodmar demanded that the gods should fill the Otter-skin with gold and cover it with gold. Now Loki, being sent to procure the gold, caught Andvari the dwarf, and from him procured by force a hoard of the precious metal and with it a magic ring, whose touch bred gold. But Andvari cursed the ring and the gold and all that might possess either. The gods forthwith filled Otter with the dwarf's gold, and surrendered both gold and ring to Rodmar. Immediately the curse began to work. Fafnir, brother of Regin and Otter, slew Rodmar and seized the treasure and, assuming a dragon's form, brooded upon the hoard. With this tale Regin egged on Sigurd to the undoing of Fafnir. He welded him, too, a resistless sword out of the shards of Sigmund's sword, Gram (the wrath). Then Sigurd swore that he would slay the dragon. But first, riding on his horse, Greyfell, of the blood of Odin's Sleipnir, he avenged upon the sons of Hunding the death of his father. This done, Sigurd rode to Glistenheath and slew Fafnir, the dragon, and eating of his heart, learned the language of the birds; and at their advice he slew Regin also, who plotted against him. So, setting the ring of Andvari on his finger and bearing the gold before him on his horse, Greyfell, Sigurd comes to the Hill of Hindfell: And sitteth awhile on Greyfell on the marvelous thing to gaze: For lo, the side of Hindfell inwrapped by the fervent blaze, And naught 'twixt earth and heaven save a world of flickering flame, And a hurrying, shifting tangle, where the dark rents went and came.... Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he shifts, And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts, And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire's heart; But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart, And high o'er his head it riseth, and wide and wild is its roar As it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor; But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye, When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh; The white-flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell's mane, And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilts of Fafnir's bane, And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair, But naught his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear;-- Then it falls and fades and darkens till all seems left behind, And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind.... Then before him Sigurd sees a shield-hung castle, surmounted by a golden buckler, instead of a banner, which rings against the flagstaff. And he enters and finds the form of one asleep, in armor cap-a-pie. So he draweth the helm from the head, and, lo, the brow snow-white, And the smooth unfurrowed cheeks, and the wise lips breathing light; And the face of a woman it is, and the fairest that ever was born, Shown forth to the empty heavens and the desert world forlorn: But he looketh, and loveth her sore, and he longeth her spirit to move, And awaken her heart to the world, that she may behold him and love. And he toucheth her breast and her hands, and he loveth her passing sore; And he saith, "Awake! I am Sigurd," but she moveth never the more.... Then with his bright blade Sigurd rends the ring-knit mail that incloses her, "till naught but the rippling linen is wrapping her about,"-- Then a flush cometh over her visage and a sigh upheaveth her breast, And her eyelids quiver and open, and she wakeneth into rest; Wide-eyed on the dawning she gazeth, too glad to change or smile, And but little moveth her body, nor speaketh she yet for a while; And yet kneels Sigurd, moveless, her wakening speech to heed, While soft the waves of the daylight o'er the starless heavens speed, And the gleaming vines of the Shield-burg yet bright and brighter grow, And the thin moon hangeth her horns dead-white in the golden glow. Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Volsung's eyes. And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise, For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart that she loved, As she spake unto nothing but him and her lips with the speech-flood moved. Brynhild, it was,--the Valkyrie,--who long time had lain in that enchanted sleep that Odin, her father, had poured over her, dooming her to mortal awakening and to mortal love, for the evil she had wrought of old when she espoused the cause in battle of those whom the Norns had predestined to death. Her might none but the fearless awaken; and her had Sigurd awakened; and she loved him, for he was without fear and godlike. And she taught him many wise sayings; and they plighted troth, one to the other, both then and again; and Sigurd gave her the ring of Andvari. But they were not destined to dwell together in wedlock, and Brynhild, foreseeing the future, knew even this. Sigurd was to wed with another than Brynhild, and it fell in this wise. In the land of the Nibelungs (Niblungs, Nibelungen) dwelt Gudrun, daughter of Giuki, the Nibelung king. And Gudrun dreamed a dream in which a fair hawk feathered with feathers of gold alighted upon her wrist. She went to Brynhild for the interpretation of the dream. "The hawk," said Brynhild, "is Sigurd." And so it came to pass. Sigurd, visiting the court of the Nibelungs, was kindly entreated by King Giuki and his three sons, Gunnar, Hogni, and Guttorm; and he performed deeds of valor such that they honored him. But after many days, Grimhild, the mother of Gudrun, administered to Sigurd a magic potion that removed from him all memory of Brynhild. So Sigurd loved and wedded the fair Gudrun. Indeed he soon joined others in urging his wife's brother Gunnar, a doughty warrior, to sue for the hand of Brynhild herself. But Brynhild would have no one that could not ride through the flames drawn up around her hall. After Gunnar had made two unsuccessful attempts, Sigurd, assuming the form of King Gunnar, mounted Greyfell and rode for the second time through the flames of Hindfell. Then, still wearing the semblance of Gunnar, he gained the consent of Brynhild to the union, and exchanged rings with her,--she giving him none other than the ancient ring of Andvari back again. But even this did not recall to Sigurd's memory his former ride and his former love. Returning to the land of the Nibelungs, he announced the success of his undertaking and told all things to Gudrun, giving her the fatal ring that he had regained from Brynhild. In ten days came Brynhild by agreement to the Hall of the Nibelungs, and though she knew well the deceit that had been practiced on her, she made no sign; nay, was wedded, according to her promise, to King Gunnar. But as they sat at the wedding-feast, the charm of Grimhild was outworn,--Sigurd looked upon Gunnar's bride and knew the Brynhild of old, the Valkyrie, whom he had loved; "and Brynhild's face drew near him with eyes grown stern and strange." But, apparently, all went well till the young queens, one day bathing in the Water of the Nibelungs, fell into contention on a matter of privilege. Brynhild claimed precedence in entering the river on the ground that Gunnar was the liege lord of Sigurd. Gudrun, white with wrath, flashed out the true story of the ride through the flames, and thrust in Brynhild's face the Andvari ring. Consumed with jealousy, Brynhild plotted revenge. She loved Sigurd still, and he, since he had regained his memory, could not overcome his love for her. But the insult from Gudrun Brynhild would not brook. By her machinations, Guttorm, the brother of Gudrun, was incited to slay Sigurd. He, accordingly, stabbed the hero while asleep, but Sigurd, throwing Gram at the assassin, cut him in twain before he could escape. Woe me! how the house of the Niblungs by another cry was rent, The awakening wail of Gudrun, as she shrank in the river of blood From the breast of the mighty Sigurd: he heard it and understood, And rose up on the sword of Guttorm, and turned from the country of death, And spake words of loving-kindness as he strove for life and breath; "Wail not, O child of the Niblungs! I am smitten, but thou shalt live, In remembrance of our glory, mid the gifts the gods shall give!... It is Brynhild's deed," he murmured, "and the woman that loves me well; Nought now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell. I have done many deeds in my life-days, and all these, and my love, they lie In the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by. I have done and I may not undo, I have given and I take not again; Art thou other than I, Allfather, wilt thou gather my glory in vain?" So ended the life of Sigurd. Brynhild, overcome with sorrow, dealt herself a mortal wound and was burned on the funeral pyre beside Sigurd the Volsung. In time Gudrun became the queen of Atli, the Budlung. He, in order to obtain the hoard of Sigurd, which had passed into the hands of the Nibelungs,--Gudrun's brothers,--bade them visit him in Hunland. Fully warned by Gudrun, they still accepted the invitation and, arriving at the hall of Atli, were after a fearful conflict slain. But they did not surrender the hoard--that lay concealed at the bottom of the Rhine. Gudrun with the aid of Nibelung, her brother Hogni's son, in the end slew Atli, set fire to his hall, and brought ruin on the Budlung folk. Then leaping into the sea, she was borne with Swanhild, her daughter by Sigurd, to the realm of King Jonakr, who became her third husband. Swanhild, "fairest of all women, eager-eyed as her father, so that few durst look under the brows of her," met, by stress of love and treachery, a foul end in a foreign land, trampled under foot of horses. Finally Gudrun sent her sons by Jonakr to avenge their half-sister's death; and so, bereft of all her kin and consumed with sorrow, she called upon her ancient lover, Sigurd, to come and look upon her, as he had promised, from his abiding-place among the dead. And thus had the words of her sorrow an end. Her sons slew Jormunrek, the murderer of Swanhild, but were themselves done to death by the counsel and aid of a certain warrior, seeming ancient and one-eyed,--Odin the forefather of the Volsungs,--the same that had borne Sigi fellowship, and that struck the sword into Branstock of Volsung's hall, and that faced Sigmund and shattered Gram in the hour of Sigmund's need, and that brought to Sigurd the matchless horse Greyfell, and oft again had appeared to the kin of the Volsungs;--the same god now wrought the end of the Nibelungs. The hoard and the ring of Andvari had brought confusion on all into whose hands they fell. =283. The Lay of the Nibelungs.=[371] In the German version of this story--called the Nibelungenlied--certain variations of name, incident, and character appear. Sigurd is Siegfried, dwelling in Xanten near the Rhine, the son of Siegmund and Siegelind, king and queen of the Netherlands. Gudrun is Kriemhild, sister of Gunther (Gunnar), king of the Burgundians, and niece of Hagen (Hogni), a warrior of dark and sullen mien, cunning, but withal loyal and brave, the foe of the glorious Siegfried. Siegfried weds Kriemhild, takes her to the Netherlands and lives happily with her, enjoying the moneys of the Nibelungen hoard, which he had taken not from a dwarf, as in the Norse version, but from two princes, the sons of King Nibelung. Meanwhile Gunther dwells in peace in the Burgundian land, husband of the proud Brunhild, whom Siegfried had won for him by stratagem not altogether unlike that of the Norse story. For the Brunhild of the Yssel-land had declared that she would marry no man save him who should surpass her in athletic contest. This condition Siegfried, wearing the Tarnkappe, a cloak that rendered him invisible, had fulfilled for Gunther. He had also succored poor Gunther after his marriage with Brunhild. For that heroine, in contempt of Gunther's strength, had bound him hand and foot and suspended him from a nail on their bedroom wall. By agreement Siegfried had again assumed Gunther's form and, after a fearful tussle with the queen, had reduced her to submission, taking from her the ring and girdle which were the secret sources of her strength, and leaving her to imagine that she had been conquered by her bridegroom, Gunther. The ring and girdle Siegfried had bestowed upon Kriemhild, unwisely telling her at the same time the story of Brunhild's defeat. Although the Nibelungenlied offers no explanation, it is evident that the injured queen of Yssel-land had recognized Siegfried during this ungallant intrigue; and we are led to infer that there had been some previous acquaintance and passage of love between them. [Illustration: FIG. 188. GUNTHER AND BRUNHILD. From the fresco by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld] At any rate, Siegfried and Kriemhild, retiring to the Netherlands, were ruling happily at Xanten by the Rhine; and all might have continued in peace had not Brunhild resented the lack of homage paid by Siegfried, whom she had been led to regard as a vassal, to Gunther, his reputed overlord. In her heart this thought she fostered, deep in its inmost core;[372] That still they kept such distance, a secret grudge she bore. How came it that their vassal to court declined to go, Nor for his land did homage, she inly yearned to know. She made request of Gunther, and begged it so might be, That she the absent Kriemhild yet once again might see, And told him, too, in secret, whereon her thoughts were bent,-- Then with the words she uttered her lord was scarce content. [Illustration: FIG. 189. SIEGFRIED AND KRIEMHILD From the fresco by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld] But Gunther yielded, and Siegfried and Kriemhild were invited to Worms, nominally to attend a high festival. ... With what joy and gladness welcomed were they there! It seemed when came dame Brunhild to Burgundy whilere, Her welcome by dame Kriemhild less tender was and true; The heart of each beholder beat higher at the view.... Received was bold Sir Siegfried, as fitted well his state, With the highest honors; no man bore him hate. Young Giselher and Gernot proffered all courtly care; Never met friend or kinsman reception half so fair. One day at the hour of vespers certain knights proved themselves at tilting in the regal courtyard. Conspicuous among these was Siegfried. And the proud queens sitting together were thinking each on the good knight that she loved full well. Then outspoke fair Kriemhild, "My husband is of such might that surely he should rule these realms"; Brunhild answered, "So long as Gunther lives that can never be." ... Thereto rejoined fair Kriemhild, "See'st thou how proud he stands, How proud he stalks, conspicuous among those warrior bands, As doth the moon far-beaming the glimmering stars outshine? Sure have I cause to pride me when such a knight is mine." Thereto replied queen Brunhild, "How brave soe'er he be, How stout soe'er or stately, one greater is than he. Gunther, thy noble brother, a higher place may claim, Of knights and kings the foremost in merit and in fame." So began the altercation. It attained its climax the same day, when each queen attempted to take precedence of the other in entering the cathedral for the celebration of the mass. Both met before the minster in all the people's sight; There at once the hostess let out her deadly spite. Bitterly and proud she bade fair Kriemhild stand; "No vassaless precedeth the lady of the land." Then, full of wrath, Kriemhild, in terms anything but delicate, acquainted her haughty sister-in-law with the deception that had twice been practiced upon her by Siegfried and Gunther; nay, worse, corroborated her statement by displaying both ring and girdle that Brunhild had lost. The altercation came to the ears of the kings. Gunther made complaint to Siegfried. Then, ... "Women must be instructed," said Siegfried, the good knight, "To leave off idle talking and rule their tongues aright. Keep thy fair wife in order, I'll do by mine the same. Such overweening folly puts me indeed to shame." But it was too late to mend the matter. With devilish intent Brunhild plotted vengeance. Siegfried, the author of her mortification, must die the death. The foes of Siegfried persuaded his wife, unaware of their design, to embroider in his vesture a silken cross over the one spot where the hero was vulnerable. Then the crafty Hagen, who had been suborned by Brunhild to the baleful deed, bided his time. One day, Gunther, Hagen, and Siegfried, heated in running, stayed by a brook to drink. Hagen saw his chance. ... Then, as to drink, Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found, He pierced him through the crosslet, that sudden from the wound Forth the life-blood spurted, e'en o'er his murderer's weed. Nevermore will warrior dare so foul a deed.... ... With blood were all bedabbled the flowerets of the field. Some time with death he struggled as though he scorned to yield E'en to the foe whose weapon strikes down the loftiest head. At last prone in the meadow lay mighty Siegfried dead. Brunhild glories in the fall of Siegfried and exults over the mourning widow. Kriemhild, sitting apart, nurses schemes of vengeance. Her brothers affect to patch up the breach in order that they may obtain the hoard of the Nibelungs. But this treasure, after it has been brought to Worms, is sunk, for precaution's sake, by Hagen, in the Rhine. Although in time Kriemhild becomes the wife of King Etzel (Atli, Attila) of Hunland, still she does not forget the injury done her by her kin. After thirteen years she inveigles her brothers and their retainers, called now Nibelungs because of their possession of the hoard, to Etzel's court, where, after a desperate and dastardly encounter, in which their hall is reduced to ashes, they are all destroyed save Gunther and Hagen. Immediately, thereafter, Gunther's head is cut off at her orders; and she herself, with Siegfried's sword Balmung, severs the head of the hated Hagen from his body. With these warriors the secret of the hidden hoard passes. Kriemhild, having wreaked her vengeance, falls by the hand of one of her husband's knights, Hildebrand, who, with Dietrich of Bern, had played a prominent part among the associates of King Etzel. "I cannot say you now what hath befallen since; The women all were weeping, and the Ritters and the prince, Also the noble squires, their dear friends lying dead: Here hath the story ending; this is the Nibelungen's Need."[373] FOOTNOTES: [369] For the Sagas, see § 300; and for translations, etc., see § 282 of the Commentary. [370] The extracts in verse are from William Morris' Sigurd the Volsung. [371] For Records of German Mythology, see § 301, below; for literature and translations, see §§ 283 and 301 of the Commentary. [372] The extracts in verse are, unless otherwise stated, from the translation by W. N. Lettsom, London, 1890. Werner Hahn's Uebersetzung has also been used. [373] From Carlyle's translation of fragments of the poem. CHAPTER XXIX THE RING OF THE NIBELUNG =284. Wagner's Tetralogy.= In his famous Ring of the Nibelung the German composer, Richard Wagner, returns to the Norse version of the stories recounted in the chapter preceding this. He is responsible not only for the musical score of the four operas of which the Ring consists, but for the text and scenic arrangement as well. As musical dramas the four plays constitute the grandest series of the kind that the world possesses. But even if they were not wedded to such music, the _Rhine-gold_, the _Valkyrie_, the _Siegfried_, and the _Twilight_ (or _Dusk_) _of the Gods_ would be entitled, for creative invention, imaginative insight and power, and poetic diction, to rank with notable dramas, ancient or modern. The tetralogy (or series of four) presents the whole story of the accursed Nibelung gold, from that dawn when it was wrested from the daughters of the Rhine to that dusk when it was restored, having wrought meanwhile the doom of Nibelungs, Volsungs, and the gods themselves. =285. The Rhine-gold.= We are at the bottom of the Rhine: a greenish twilight, and moving water, and everywhere sharp points of rocks jutting from the depths. Around the central rock three Rhine-daughters swim, guarding it carefully, but laughing and playing, and chasing one the other as they guard. To them from a chasm climbs Alberich, the Nibelung, he who in the old Norse lay was known as Andvari. He views the maidens with increasing pleasure. He addresses them, he clambers after them, he strives to catch them; they lure him on, they mock him and escape his grasp; he woos them each in turn, all unsuccessfully. He gazes upward--"Could I but catch one"; then once more failing, remains in speechless rage. Rage soon transformed to wonder: for through the water from above there filters a brightening glow, a magical light, streaming from the summit of the central rock where in the splendor of the morning sun the Rhine-gold laughs a-kindle. "What is it, ye sleek ones, That there doth gleam and glow?"[374] Has he never heard of the Rhine-gold? they ask. Of the wondrous star whose glory lightens the waves? He has not. He scorns it. "The golden charm," cries one of the maidens,-- "The golden charm Wouldst thou not flout Knewest thou all of its wonders." "The world's wealth," jeers another, "Could be won by a man If out of the Rhine-gold He fashioned the Ring That measureless might can bestow... He who the sway Of love forswears, He who delight Of love forbears, Only he can master the magic That forces the gold to a ring!" "But we fear not thee--oh, no--for thou burnest in love for us." So, lightly sing the Rhine-daughters; but Alberich, with his eyes on the gold, has heeded well their chatter. "The world's wealth," he mutters; "might I win that by the spell of the gold? Nay, though love be the forfeit, my cunning shall win me delight." Then terribly loud he cries, "Mock ye, mock on! The Nibelung neareth your toy;--" then, clambering with haste to the summit, "My hand, it quenches your light; I wrest from the rock your gold; I fashion the ring of revenge; Now, hear me, ye floods-- Accursèd be love henceforth." Tearing the gold from the rock, he plunges into the depths and disappears. After him dive the maidens. In vain. Far, far below, from Nibelheim rises the mocking laughter of Alberich, Lord of the Gold. The scene changes. An open space on a mountain height becomes visible. The dawning day lights up a castle, glittering with pinnacles, on the top of a cliff. Below flows silent the Rhine. At one side, on a flowery bank, Wotan (Odin), king of the gods, lies sleeping, and Fricka (Frigga) his wife. They wake. Wotan turns toward his castle, new-built by the giants, and exults; but Fricka reminds him of the terrible price that is yet to be paid for its building,--none other, forsooth, than the person of Freia, the fair one, the goddess of spring and love, she who tends the garden of the gods, and whose apples, eaten from day to day, confer eternal youth,--she is the wage that the giants will claim. "I mind me well of the bargain," returns Wotan, "but I give no thought to fulfill it. My castle stands; for the wage--fret not thyself." "Oh, laughing, impious lightness," reproves him Fricka, "thy bargain is fast, and is still to rue." Nay, on the moment rushes Freia to them, pleading, pursued by the giants. "Give her to us!" they cry,--Fasolt and Fafner, mighty twain that unslumbering had reared the walls of Wotan's castle, to win them a woman, winsome and sweet. "Now pay us our wage!" "Nay," coolly answers Wotan, "other guerdon ask. Freia may I not grant!" But the giants insist. They accuse the god of faithlessness. He jests with them, temporizing, awaiting anxiously the arrival of Loge (Loki), spirit of cunning, at whose suggestion that bargain had been struck. For even then Loge had secretly assured Wotan that Freia should in the emergency be ransomed. The giants, indignant at the delay, press on Freia. She calls on her brothers, Froh (Freyr) and Donner (Thor). They rush to her rescue: Froh clasps the fair one; Donner plants himself before the importunates. "Know ye the weight of my hammer's blow?" thunders he. There is battle in the air. Then enters Loge, demon of fire, mischief-maker, traitor, and thief, whom long ago Wotan had lifted from his evil brood and of him made a friend and counselor. "Now hear, crabbèd one; keep thy word," says Wotan, sharply. Loge appears to be nonplussed. He has restlessly searched to the ends of the world to find a ransom for Freia; "but naught is so rich that giant or man will take it as price for a woman's worth and delight." He has sought amid the forces of water and earth and air; "but naught is so mighty that giant or man will prefer it above a woman's worth and delight!" And yet,--slyly Loge lets fall the word,--there is the ruddy Gold: "Yea, one I looked on, but _one_, who love's delights forswore, for ruddy gold renouncing the wealth of woman's grace." And he recounts the marvels of the Rhine-gold. The giants offer to take it in lieu of Freia; nay, gods and goddesses as well are held by the charm of the glittering hoard; by the lure, and the dread too, of the Ring that, once fashioned, gives measureless might to its lord. Even now, doubtless, he who has forsworn love has muttered the magic rune and rounded the sovereign circlet of gold. If so, the gods themselves shall be his slaves,--slaves of the Nibelung Alberich. "The ring I must win me," decides Wotan. "But at the cost of love?" queries Froh. Loge counsels the theft of the gold from Alberich and its restoration to the daughters of the Rhine. But the gods are not thus far-sighted, and the giants insist upon the hoard as their due. They seize Freia, and bear her away as pledge till that ransom be paid.... "Alack, what aileth the gods?" It is Loge who speaks. A pale mist falls upon the scene, gradually growing denser. The light of the heavenly abodes is quenched. Wotan and all his clan become increasingly wan and aged. Freia of the Garden is departed: the apples of youth are decaying; "old and gray, worn and withered, the scoff of the world, dies out the godly race!" "Up, Loge," calls Wotan, dismayed, "descend with me. To Nibelheim go we together. To win back our youth, the golden ransom must I gain." The scene changes to Nibelheim, the subterranean home of the Nibelungs. Wotan and Loge find Mime, Alberich's brother, bewailing the fate of the Nibelungs--for Alberich has fashioned the Ring and all below groan under his tyranny. Even now, reluctantly indeed, Mime is forging the _Tarnhelm_ for his tyrant brother,--a wishing-cap by whose magic the wearer may transfer himself through space and assume whatever form he please, or make himself invisible, at will. Alberich, in the flush of power, enters, driving before him with brandished whip a host of Nibelungs from the caverns. They are laden with gold and silver handiwork. At Alberich's command they heap it in a pile. He draws the Ring from his finger; the vanquished host trembles and, shrieking, cowers away. "What seek ye here?" demands he, looking long and suspiciously at Wotan and Loge. They have heard strange tidings, says Wotan, and they come to see the wonders that Alberich can work. Then Loge induces the Nibelung lord to exhibit the virtues of the Tarnhelm. Readily beguiled, he displays his necromantic power. First he transforms himself into a loathly dragon. The gods pretend dismay:--he can make himself great; can he make himself small, likewise? "Pah, nothing simpler! Look at me now!" He dons the Tarnhelm, and lo, a toad! "There, grasp quickly," says Loge. Wotan places his foot on the toad, and Loge seizes the Tarnhelm. Alberich becomes visible in his own form, writhing under Wotan's foot. The gods bind him and drag him to the chasm by which they had descended. The scene changes to the open space before Valhalla. Alberich, dragged in by Loge, is forced to deliver up the hoard and the Tarnhelm and the Ring. Wotan contemplates the Ring and puts it on. Alberich is set at liberty. "Am I now free?" cries he, "free in sooth? Thus greets you then my freedom's foremost word: As by curse it came to me, accursed forever be this Ring! As its gold gave measureless might, let now its magic deal death to its lord. Its wealth shall yield pleasure to none. Care shall consume him who doth hold it. All shall lust after its delights; yet naught shall it boot him who wins the prize! To its lord no gain let it bring; and forever be murder drawn in its wake, till again once more in my hand, rewon, I hold it!" So the baffled Nibelung curses, and departs. Then enter Fricka, Donner, and Froh, followed soon by the giants, who bring Freia back. They refuse, Fasolt and Fafner, to release the fair goddess until she is fully redeemed; and they claim not only Tarnhelm and gold, but Ring as well. With the Ring Wotan refuses to part. In that moment rises from a rocky cleft the goddess of the earth, Erda, the beloved of heaven's god, and mother by him of the Valkyries. "Yield it, Wotan, yield it," she cries warningly. "Flee the Ring's dread curse." "What woman warneth me thus?" "All that e'er was, know I," pronounces Erda: "How all things are; How all things shall be. Hear me! hear me! hear me! All that e'er was, endeth: A darksome day Dawns for your godhood! Be counseled; give up the Ring." She vanishes, the all-wise one; and Wotan surrenders the Ring. Freia is redeemed, and the gods glow again with youth. No sooner have the giants gained possession of the Ring than they proceed to quarrel over it. Fafner strikes out with his staff and stretches Fasolt on the ground. From the dying man he hastily wrests the Ring, puts it into his sack, and goes on quietly packing the gold. In a solemn silence the gods stand horrified. Care and fear fetter the soul of Wotan. That he may shake himself free of them he determines to descend to Erda; she yet can give him counsel. But first,--for Donner has cleared with his thunder and lightning the clouds that had overspread the scene,--he will enter "Valhalla," his castle, golden-gleaming in the evening sunlight. "What meaneth the name, then?" asks Fricka, as they cross the rainbow bridge. Wotan evades the question, for he still dreads the curse pronounced by the Nibelung upon all who have owned the Ring; and that name, "Valhalla," indicates just the means by which he hopes to escape the curse. He has thought to avert the doom of the gods by gathering in this Valhalla, or Hall of the Slain, the spirits of heroes fallen in battle--especially of heroes of a race that shall spring from himself, the Volsungs (or Wälsungs) yet to be born. They shall do battle for the gods when sounds the crack of doom. But of all this Wotan says naught. He will say in the hour of his triumph. As the gods enter Valhalla the plaints of the Rhine-maidens for the loss of their gold arise from the river below. =286.= In =The Valkyrie= Wotan proceeds with his plan. During his wanderings on earth, under the name of Wälse, he has become the father of twin children, Siegmund and Sieglinde. These have, in early youth, been separated by the murderous turmoil of warring clans, but now they are to be reunited; and Wotan, with a primitive disregard of the fact that they are brother and sister, intends to make them man and wife, in order that from them may issue the heroic race that, in the latter days, shall defend Valhalla from the onslaught of the powers of evil. The play opens with the interior of a woodland lodge. In the center rises the stem of a mighty ash tree, about which has been built an apartment of roughly hewn logs. It is toward evening and a violent thunderstorm is just subsiding. This is the home of Hunding, chieftain of the Neiding clan. The door opens, and Siegmund, flying from his enemies, wounded and weaponless, enters. Seeing no one, he closes the door, strides toward the fire, and throws himself wearily down on a bearskin: "Whoe'er own this hearth, Here must I rest me." He remains stretched out motionless. A woman enters from an inner chamber. It is Sieglinde. She takes compassion on the helpless fugitive, admires his noble bearing, gives him drink, and bids him tarry till her husband be home. They gaze upon each other with ever-increasing interest and emotion. Suddenly Siegmund starts up as if to go. "Who pursues thee?" she inquires. "Ill fate pursues where'er I go. To thee, wife, may it never come. Forth from thy house I fly." She calls him back. "Then bide thou here. Thou canst not bring ill fate where ill fate already makes its home." He leans against the hearth. Again the eyes of the twain meet. Hunding enters, regards the stranger with suspicion, notes the resemblance between him and Sieglinde; but he consents to harbor him for the night. "Thy name and fortune?" "Wehwalt," says Siegmund, "for woe still waits on my steps; Wehwalt, the son of Wolfe." And thus concealing his race, he tells a story in other respects true: how in his childhood a cruel host had laid waste his home and killed his mother and carried away the sister who was his twin, and how he and his father, the Wolf, for years had battled in the woodlands against the Neidings. The Neidings! They are Hunding's clan. "My house holds thee, Wölfing, to-night. To-morrow defend thee; with death thou shalt pay for this life!" And Hunding withdraws, Sieglinde with him. Siegmund is weaponless. The firelight sends a sudden glow upon the ash tree, and a sword-hilt there sends back an answering gleam. But Siegmund knows not what it means. Clad in white, Sieglinde steals from the inner room. She has left Hunding asleep, overcome by a slumberous draft. "Thy coming is life," cries Siegmund. "A weapon, now, let me show thee," she replies. And she tells how, on the day of her unhappy wedding, a stranger, all in gray, low-hatted and one-eyed, had entered the Hunding hall and struck into the ash stem a sword that none but the bravest of heroes could win, and how all in turn had tried in vain to draw forth the sword. Now she knows for whom it was ordained,-- "It was for thee, my deliverer, my hero held in my arms!" They embrace. He declares his lineage. He is son of him whose eye proudly glistened from under the low-brimmed hat,--son of Wälse, the wanderer. He is Siegmund, the Victorious. For him, the sword Nothung.--And he draws it easily forth. "Art thou Siegmund?" she cries; "Sieglinde am I. Thine own twin sister thou winnest at once with the sword." "Bride and sister be to thy brother; then nourish the Wälsungs for aye!" So the twain make their compact. In the second act we are transported to a wild and rocky place. Before Wotan, fully armed and carrying his spear, stands Brünnhilde, the warrior maid, likewise fully armed. She is one of the nine Valkyries, daughters of Wotan and Erda, fostered for battle that they might forfend the doom foretold by Erda herself,--the shameful defeat of the gods. Well have the Valkyrs, choosers of the slain, performed their task, stirring mortal hearts to battle and riding through the air above to designate the bravest for death, and with their spirits to fill the halls on Valhalla's height. Now, however, Wotan is ordering Brünnhilde to haste to the fray,--not on death's errand but on errand of life,--to shield Siegmund the Wälsung in the fight. The Valkyrie springs shouting from rock to rock, and disappears behind the mountain crags. All seems to be arranged. But lo, Fricka, in her ram-drawn car! She descends and strides toward her scheming spouse. The goddess has heard the cry of Hunding, calling for vengeance on the twinborn pair who have rashly wrought him wrong; and as guardian of wedlock she demands the death of Siegmund in the coming conflict. Wotan tries to persuade her that Siegmund's success is needful to the gods,--the warrior band of mortal souls gathered by the Valkyries in the heights of Valhalla cannot alone suffice to avert the onslaught of the powers of darkness. "Needed is one who, free from help of godhood, fights free of the godhead's control. Only such an one is meet for the deed which is denied to a god to achieve." But Fricka is not to be deceived nor thwarted in her aim. She brushes aside the plea of Wotan and his subterfuge,--who has ever heard that heroes can accomplish what the gods cannot? And as for heroes unaided--none such is Siegmund. "Who was it," she asks, "that brought him his conquering sword? and whose shield is ordained to cover him in the fight?" "I cannot o'erthrow him," breaks out Wotan; "he has found my sword." "Destroy its magic then," retorts the implacable queen. "Give word to thy shouting war-maid that Siegmund fall!" Wotan is conquered. Sadly he revokes the order given to Brünnhilde. "Then takest thou from Siegmund thy shield?" cries that one in amazement. And the god: "Yea! though Alberich's host threaten our downfall; though again the Ring be won by the Nibelung, and Valhalla be lost forever. By bargains bound myself, I may not wrest the Ring from the foeman, from Fafner the giant. Therefore, to fulfill my purpose, I had thought to create a Free One who for me should fight. Now, with loathing, I find ever myself in all my hand has created. The Other for whom I have longed, that Other I never shall find. Himself must the Free One create him; my hand shapes nothing but slaves. For when this hand of mine touched Alberich's Ring, my heart grew greedy of gold. I fled from the curse, but the curse flies not from me. What I love best must I surrender; whom most I cherish, I must slay. One thing awaits me yet--the downfall! Yea, that portended Erda,--Erda, the all-wise. "'When the dusky foe,' she said,-- 'When the dusky foe of love Grimly getteth a son, The doom of the gods Delays not long!' And of late I have heard that the Nibelung has bought him a wife. Their son shall inherit,--their son, the child of spite, shall inherit the empty pomp of the gods!" It was of Hagen, yet unborn, the baleful curse of the Volsungs, of Hagen, the traitor, that Erda had prophesied. And thus dimly is foreshadowed the Twilight of the Gods. But Brünnhilde? "Siegmund thou hast taught me to love," murmurs the Valkyrie. Then boldly,-- "For his sake thy wavering word I defy!" The war-father turns in wrath upon this new rebellion, and on pain of eternal penalty enjoins upon his daughter her new duty: "Fight truly for Fricka! Siegmund strike thou! Such be the Valkyrie's task!" The war-maid seeks out Siegmund and announces to him his approaching death. But that hero's distress at the thought of parting from Sieglinde stirs her to the quick. And, in the moment of battle, Brünnhilde disobeys the All-father's injunction;--she shields the warrior whom she loves. Then suddenly appears Wotan, standing over Hunding and holding his spear across in front of Siegmund. "Go back from the spear! In splinters the sword!" shouts the god. In terror Brünnhilde sinks back. Siegmund's sword breaks on the outstretched spear, and Hunding pierces the Volsung's breast. Brünnhilde hastily gathers the bits of the broken sword, lifts Sieglinde to horse, and escapes through the gorges behind. The scene changes to the Valkyries' rocky home. Through the drifting clouds come riding the eight sisters of Brünnhilde, in full armor each, and each bearing before her the body of some slain hero. They await Brünnhilde. She, fleeing from Wotan's pursuit, at last arrives. She implores them to shield Sieglinde from the wrath of the god, but unsuccessfully; and then she urges Sieglinde to fly. At first, benumbed by despair, the widowed woman refuses; but when Brünnhilde mentions the child that is to be born--the world's most glorious hero--she consents. "Him thou shalt bear, thy son and Siegmund's. For him ward thou well these mighty splinters of his father's sword. He shall weld them anew and swing the victorious blade! His name from me let him take--'Siegfried'; for Siegfried in _triumph_ shall live!" Comforted and hopeful, Sieglinde betakes herself to that forest far to the east, where the Nibelung's hoard had been borne by Fafner. There, in dragon's form, he guarded the gold and the Ring; and thither Wotan is not likely to pursue. It thunders and lightens. Wotan, raging terribly, strides from crag to crag. The other Valkyries are driven from the scene. Brünnhilde hears her doom: "The heavenly host No more shall know thee; Outcast art thou From the clan of the gods: The bond by thee has been broken; Henceforth from sight of my face art thou banned!" Immortal, she had followed the might of love; mortal, now she shall sleep, and that sleep shall endure till one comes to awaken her; and to him, whosoe'er it may be, she shall be subject thenceforth. The Valkyrie drops to her knees: "Ah, let no craven awake me!" she cries. "Surround me with horrors, with fires that shall fright: that none but the most fearless of heroes may find me here on the fell!" Wotan accedes to her petition. He kisses her on both eyes and lays her unconscious, asleep, in the shade of a broad-branching fir tree. Then,-- "Appear! Come, waving fire, And wind thee in flames round the fell! Loge, Loge, appear!" A sea of flames encircles the spot, and Wotan proclaims: "He who my spear-point's Sharpness feareth Shall cross not this flaming fire!" Alone, under her long steel shield, sleeps the Valkyrie. =287. Siegfried.= The drama of Siegfried opens in the cavern of Mime, in the forest "far to the east" to which Sieglinde had fled. Mime, the dwarf, is he whom erstwhile his Nibelung brother, Alberich, then lord of the Ring, had held in thrall at the bottom of the Rhine. Some years before the events represented in this play, the dwarf had found Sieglinde dying in the woods, and had received from her Siegfried, her new-born son, and with him the pieces of Siegmund's broken sword, Nothung. Young Siegfried, noble, proud, and strong, has been nurtured in ignorance of his lineage and destiny, as Mime's son. But of that lineage and destiny the cunning dwarf is well aware; and while he trains Siegfried to doughty deeds, he ceaselessly forges at the splinters of the sword, hoping to reweld them himself and through Siegfried's might to win victory over Fafner, the present lord of the Ring, and so achieve unmeasured wealth and the mastery of the world. But Siegfried despises his foster-father and seeks ever to discover the story of his own descent. The attempts of Mime to shape anew the pieces of Nothung fail; and he daily forges other swords, which Siegfried scorns and breaks at the first trial. In the course of time, however, there comes to Mime's cave a "Wanderer"--it is Wotan himself--and tells the dwarf that only one, a man who knows not fear, can remake the all-conquering sword. He tells him, too, of the mighty spear, fashioned of the world ash tree's hallowed branches, with which he, Wotan, rules the earth. But no word he says of the doom that is to befall that spear at the blow of the conquering sword,--the doom, forsooth, of the gods themselves. Mime, after trying in vain to arouse in Siegfried the sense of fear, suggests to the youth that he try to reforge Nothung. Siegfried seizes the splinters, pounds them, and files them to powder; melts them over the charcoal of the ash tree's stem, and, singing at his work, refashions the sword. While this is doing, through the pauses of Siegfried's song can be heard the voice of Mime, muttering: "The sword will be forged ... and Fafner vanquished.... When Siegfried has slain that dragon ... he will be athirst.... I will brew him a drink.... One drop will lay him in sleep.... With the sword that he forges I'll kill him.... Mine, then, the Ring and the hoard!" At last the sword is shaped and sharpened. Siegfried swings it before him: "Nothung, Nothung, conquering sword; again to life have I woke thee! Strike at the traitor, cut down the knave! See, Mime, thou smith; so sunders Siegfried's sword!" and he strikes the anvil in twain from top to bottom. It falls asunder with a great noise, and the dwarf drops with terror to the ground. The scene changes to the forest in front of Fafner's cave. Alberich is watching gloomily by, and the Wanderer rides in to taunt him with false hope of the Ring. "A hero nears to set free the hoard," says the Wanderer. "Fafner will fall. Perchance if Alberich warn the dragon, he may win the Ring in token of gratitude." Alberich makes the approaches. Fafner yawns: "I have and I hold; let me slumber!" With scornful laughter the Wanderer rides away. But "one day," snarls Alberich,--"one day shall I see you all fade, ye light-hearted eternals. The wise one keepeth his watch and surely worketh his spite!" As the day breaks Siegfried and Mime enter, Siegfried wearing his sword hung in a girdle of rope, and blithely blowing a horn. Fafner, in the shape of a huge lizardlike dragon, comes out of his cave and forward to the stream for water. At sight of the nonchalant youth piping his wood-notes gay, the monster emits a snort that serves his need of a laugh,--"I came for drink; now, too, I find food." The conflict is speedily joined. More than once Siegfried is well-nigh lost; but his chance comes. The dragon exposes his heart, and Siegfried sinks his sword into it up to the hilt. In the moment of death, Fafner warns the young hero to beware of him who stirred him to the fight. But Siegfried pays little heed. The blood of the dragon bespatters his hand; it burns. Siegfried involuntarily carries his hand to his lips. There is a wood bird singing. Siegfried regards him with astonishment. "Almost," he says, "it seems as wood birds were speaking to me," and he hearkens. "Hei!" sings the wood bird; "now Siegfried owns all the Nibelung's hoard. Let him but search the cavern, and hoard, Tarnhelm, and Ring will make him the lord of the world!" "Thanks, dearest birdling," Siegfried replies, and possesses himself of Tarnhelm and Ring. The hoard he leaves where it was. "Hei!" sings the wood bird; "Ring and Tarnhelm Siegfried has won. Now let him not trust the treacherous tongue of the falsest of friends!" No sooner is that warning given than Mime, who has meanwhile been wrangling with Alberich over the division of the spoils, creeps forward. "See, thou art weary; drink of the broth I have brewed, and take rest," he says smilingly to Siegfried. But under his breath he is muttering, "Drink, and choke thee to death," as he pours the draft into the drink horn and offers it. "Taste thou my sword, loathsome babbler!" cries the young hero, and strikes him dead at a blow; then pitches his body on top of the hoard and stops up the mouth of the cave with the grinning corpse of the dragon. "Thanks, friendliest birdling! But happiness yet have I not. Brothers and sisters hast thou; but I--am so alone; nor brother nor sister, nor father nor mother. One comrade had I; he laid out to catch me, and now I have slain him, perforce. Ah, birdling, find me a comrade true!" "Hei!" chatters the wood bird; "a glorious bride for Siegfried have I. On a rocky fastness she sleeps, and guarded by fire is her home. Who fighteth the flames wakens the maid; Brünnhilde, Brünnhilde, he wins for his own!" "Where'er thou fliest, follows my foot," shouts Siegfried, bubbling with joy. The scene changes. In a wild spot at the foot of a rocky mountain Wotan, the Wanderer, desiring the success of Siegfried and still knowing that that success involves the doom of the gods, seeks counsel from Erda. The all-wise one refuses to answer,--refers him to the Norns. "The Norns are waking, they wind the rope. The Norns will give thee answer!" "Ah, no!" replies the Wanderer. "Their weaving is ever in thrall to fate. To thee I come that I may learn how to stay the wheel that is already rolling." "Ask Brünnhilde!" "In vain, All-wise One; the piercing sting of care was planted by thee. Ruin and downfall were foretold by thee. Say to me, now, how a god may conquer his care!" "Thou art--_not_ what thou hast said." No more will Erda vouchsafe. Not what he has said! Then, surely, the gods are beyond redemption. But not even so shall the harvest be reaped by the Nibelungs. "Nay, to the Volsung shall be my heritage," decrees Wotan: "to him who has known me never, though chosen by me; to the lad of dauntless daring, though untaught by my counsel. Pure from greed, gladdened by love-dreams, he has won the Nibelung's Ring. Against him the curse of Alberich cannot avail." While yet the Wanderer is speaking, Erda descends to endless sleep. Dawn illumines the scene. Siegfried's bird comes fluttering to the foreground, but, frighted by vision of the god, takes wing and disappears. Siegfried presses on. "My birdling has flown from my eyes," he remarks. "I needs must find out the rock for myself." "The way that the wood bird pointed," announces Wotan, encountering him, "shalt thou not pass!" "Ho ho! Wouldst thou stay me? Who art thou, then, that here withstandest?" "Fear the fell's defender! By my might the slumbering maid is held enchained. He who should wake her, he who should win her, mightless would make me forever. Go back, then, foolhardy boy!" As the Wanderer speaks, the splendor spreads from the flame-girdled rock above. "Go back thyself, thou babbler! There where the fires are blazing,--to Brünnhilde now must I hie!" And Siegfried pushes forward. The Wanderer bars the way to the mountain: "Once already that sword of thine, Nothung, has broken on the haft of this sacred spear!" "'Tis, then, my father's slayer!" thinks Siegfried; and nothing loath to face that foe, he raises the new-forged sword and strikes to pieces the All-father's spear! "Fare on," says Wotan, quietly picking up the fragments, "I cannot withstand thee." The god vanishes in darkness. The hero, light-hearted, blowing his horn, scales the cliffs, passes the fire,--wakes Brünnhilde. She, at first, with maidenly might struggles against his passion for her and her growing tenderness for him. She deplores the byrnie, shield and helm, symbols of her godhead, that he has torn from her. But, mortal now, she surrenders to a mortal's love: "O Siegfried, Siegfried, child of delight, Love thyself,--and turn thee from me; Oh, bring not thine own to naught!" And Siegfried: "I--love thee: didst thou but love me! Mine am I no more: oh, would that thou wert mine!... Waken, O maid; live in laughter: Sweetest delight, be mine, be mine!" Then she, with a joyful cry: "Oh, child of delight! Oh, glorious hero! Thou foolish lord of loftiest deeds! Laughing must I love thee, Laughing welcome my blindness; Laughing let us be lost, With laughter go down to death.... Farewell, Valhalla's light-giving world: Thy stately towers let fall in dust! Farewell, O glittering pomp of the gods! Complete your bliss, eternal host! Now rend, ye Norns, your rope of runes: Dusk of Gods in darkness arise; Night of downfall dawn in mist!" And thus, turning their backs on Valhalla, and radiant with the light of human love, the twain, laughing, face toward death. =288. The Twilight of the Gods.= The play opens with a prelude. By the Valkyrie's rock sit the three Norns and sing of past, present, and future, weaving through the night their rope of runes. As they foretell the burning of Valhalla and the end of the gods, the rope breaks, and the Norns disappear into the earth. The sun rises, and in the first act of the play Siegfried and Brünnhilde enter from their cave. She sends him forth in quest of heroic adventures in the world, giving him her horse, Grane, and receiving from him the Ring as a pledge of his love. The scene changes, and we behold the interior of the Gibichungs' hall on the Rhine. Gunther and Gutrune, his sister, are in converse with Hagen, their half brother,--dark and treacherous son of Grimhilde, their mother, and of Alberich the Nibelung, erstwhile owner of the Ring. Hagen alone knows, it would seem, that Siegfried has already ridden through the flames and won Brünnhilde. The others know merely that that hero has slain Fafner and is lord of the Tarnhelm, hoard, and Ring. Hagen, anxious to regain the heritage of the Nibelungs, urges marriage on Gunther, naming Brünnhilde as a fitting bride for him. As, however, Siegfried alone can pass through the fire to come at her, he proposes that Gutrune shall win Siegfried's love and induce him to serve Gunther. Siegfried's horn is heard, and he presently enters and is made welcome. Gutrune, at the instigation of Hagen, brings Siegfried a potion which causes him to love her, and drives clean out of his mind all memory of Brünnhilde. In the madness of his passion for Gutrune, Siegfried swears blood-brotherhood with Gunther, and promises by the aid of the Tarnhelm to make Brünnhilde Gunther's wife, if only in return Gutrune shall be his. The newly sworn "brothers" depart for Brünnhilde's rock. In the next scene we are again before the home of Brünnhilde. Waltraute, a Valkyrie, comes to beg Brünnhilde to give back the Ring to the Rhine-maidens, and so avert the doom of the gods. "What, then, aileth the immortals?" cries Brünnhilde in alarm. "Since Wotan doomed thee, no more hath he sent us to war," replies Waltraute. "No more hath he gathered the souls of the slain about him in Valhalla. Alone he has ridden unceasing through the world. But, one day, home he came bearing his spear all splintered in his hand. Wordless, with a sign he bade Valhalla's heroes hew the world ash tree in pieces and pile it like firewood around the Hall of the Blest. And from that hour silent he sits on his throne, about him the awe-struck gods and heroes, the war-maids cowering at his knees. None tastes the apples of youth. To-day Wotan remembered thee; his eye grew soft and, as dreaming, he spake: 'If once more the daughters of Rhine Should win from her finger the Ring, Of the load of the curse Were the world and immortals made free.' Brünnhilde, yield up the Ring, and end all the grief of the world!" "The Ring?" wails Brünnhilde. "Knowest thou what 'tis to me? One flash of its fire outvalues all heaven's delight; for the gleam of that Ring is Siegfried's love! "From love I never shall turn; Of his love they never shall rob me, Though into ruins Valhalla's splendor should fall!" Thus Brünnhilde refuses, and sends Waltraute away to take her defiance to Valhalla. But retribution is swift, for on the moment Siegfried, changed to Gunther's shape by the Tarnhelm, comes and claims Brünnhilde as his bride. She resists and threatens him with the Ring. But now Siegfried, forgetful of the past, struggles for another with his own dear wife, overcomes her, and wrests the Ring from her. He then commands her to go into the cave, whither, after drawing his sword to lay between them as symbol of his loyalty to Gunther, he follows her. The second act is outside the Gibichungs' hall. It is early morning of the next day. After a short scene in which the ever-plotting Alberich urges Hagen to get the Ring, Siegfried returns and tells Hagen and Gutrune of the winning of Brünnhilde and her approach with Gunther. Hagen calls together the vassals to welcome Gunther and his bride. The royal pair presently arrive and are received with loud acclaim. Straightway Brünnhilde recognizes Siegfried (who, however, does not know her) and, seeing the Ring on Siegfried's finger, she asks Gunther what he has done with the ring he took from her. His confusion reveals the truth to her, and she proclaims that she is wedded to Siegfried and not to Gunther. Siegfried swears on the point of Hagen's spear that her accusation is false. She repeats it, taking the same oath. Siegfried, Gutrune, and their vassals go out to prepare for the double wedding celebration; Gunther, Hagen, and Brünnhilde remaining solemnly condemn Siegfried to death for what seems treachery to one and all. Hagen, left alone, glories in the prospect of regaining the Ring. The third act discloses an open place on the banks of the Rhine. The three Rhine-maidens pray to the sun for the return of the Rhine-gold. Siegfried, who has strayed from his companions on a hunting expedition, comes to the river bank. The maidens unsuccessfully attempt, by wiles and warnings of ill fate, to get the Ring from him, and finally swim away, foretelling his death that very day. Gunther, Hagen, and their vassals come to the place, and all sit down to rest. At Hagen's suggestion Siegfried relates the story of his life. But, lo! when he comes to the episode of his first passage through the fire, a draft given him by Hagen restores his memory, and innocently he tells of the waking and winning of Brünnhilde. All start up in amaze; Hagen stabs Siegfried in the back with his spear, and steals away. Siegfried falls, and after a few words sung to Brünnhilde, whom he sees as in a vision, he dies. His body is placed on a bier and borne away by the vassals with great pomp and state as the sun sets. In the last scene we have the interior of the Gibichungs' hall as before. It is night. Gutrune comes from her chamber anxious for Siegfried. Presently Hagen's voice is heard calling for torches to light the returning hunters. He enters and, in reply to Gutrune's questions, tells her that Siegfried has been slain by a wild boar. Then come the vassals, bearing Siegfried's body. It is placed on a bier in the center of the hall. Hagen claims the Ring as his right for slaying Siegfried, but Gunther defies him to touch Gutrune's heritage. They fight and Gunther falls. As Hagen approaches the corpse to take the Ring, the dead Siegfried raises his arm threateningly. All start back in horror, and just then Brünnhilde enters and comes down to the bier. Here, after ordering a pyre to be built on the river bank, she sings a funeral song over Siegfried. The body, from which she has taken the Ring, is then placed on the pyre. Setting the Ring on her own finger, Brünnhilde calls on the Rhine-maidens to take it in turn from her ashes: "Let fire, burning this hand Cleanse, too, the Ring from its curse." She applies the torch: "So cast I the brand On Valhall's glittering walls.-- When ye see in the kindling fire, Siegfried and Brünnhild' consumed; When ye see the river-daughters Bear the Ring away to the deep: To northward then Look through the night! When the heaven there gleams With a holy glow, Then know ye all That Valhall's end ye behold!" Her horse is brought. She mounts it and springs into the flames, which flare up and seize on the hall itself. The river overflows and rolls over the fire. The Rhine-maidens swim up and regain the Ring. Hagen rushes into the flood to get it from them, but is dragged down to the depths by their arms as they swim away. In the sky is seen a vision of Valhalla in flames. The breed of the gods is gone like breath. The loveless Ring has worked its curse. Each in his turn its lords have bitten the dust. And Brünnhilde reads the moral: "Not goods nor gold Nor glory of gods Can fashion a blessing for weal, Can win a blessing from woe,-- But Love alone!" FOOTNOTES: [374] For the translations of the Ring, especially the verse, I am indebted to the edition of Frederick Jameson (Schott & Co., London). PART II THE HISTORY OF MYTH. CHAPTER XXX THE ORIGIN AND ELEMENTS OF MYTH =289. Kinds of Myth.= If we classify the preceding stories according to the reason of their existence, we observe that they are of two kinds,--explanatory and æsthetic. (1) _Explanatory myths_ are the outcome of naïve guesses at the truth, of mistaken and superstitious attempts to satisfy the curiosity of primitive and unenlightened peoples, to unveil the mysteries of existence, make clear the facts of the universe and the experiences of life, to account for religious rites and social customs of which the origin is forgotten, to teach the meaning and the history of things. There are certain questions that nearly every child and every savage asks: What is the world and what is man? Who made them? What else did the maker do? and what the first men? Whence came the commodities of life? Why do we celebrate certain festivals, practice certain ceremonials, observe solemnities, and partake of sacraments, and bow to this or the other god? What is death, and what becomes of us after death? The answers to such questions crystallized themselves gradually into stories of the creation, of the gods, and of the heroes--forefathers of men, but magnified, because unfamiliar, mysterious, and remote. Old literatures abound in explanatory myths of so highly imaginative a character that we moderns are tempted to read into them meanings which probably they never possessed. For the diverse and contradictory significations that have in recent years been proposed for one and the same myth could not all, at any one time, have been entertained by the myth-makers. On the other hand, the current explanations of certain myths are sufficiently apparent to be probable. "To the ancients," says John Fiske,[375] "the moon was not a lifeless body of stones and clods; it was the horned huntress Artemis, coursing through the upper ether, or bathing herself in the clear lake; or it was Aphrodite, protectress of lovers, born of the sea foam in the East, near Cyprus. The clouds were not bodies of vaporized water; they were cows, with swelling udders, driven to the milking by Hermes, the summer wind; or great sheep with moist fleeces, slain by the unerring arrows of Bellerophon, the sun; or swan-maidens, flitting across the firmament; Valkyries hovering over the battle field to receive the souls of falling heroes; or, again, they were mighty mountains, piled one above another, in whose cavernous recesses the divining wand of the storm-god Thor revealed hidden treasures. The yellow-haired sun, Ph[oe]bus, drove westerly all day in his flaming chariot; or, perhaps, as Meleager, retired for awhile in disgust from the sight of men; wedded at eventide the violet light ([OE]none, Iole) which he had forsaken in the morning; sank as Hercules upon a blazing funeral pyre, or, like Agamemnon, perished in a blood-stained bath; or, as the fish-god, Dagon, swam nightly through the subterranean waters to appear eastward again at daybreak. Sometimes Phaëthon, his rash, inexperienced son, would take the reins and drive the solar chariot too near the earth, causing the fruits to perish, and the grass to wither, and the wells to dry up. Sometimes, too, the great all-seeing divinity, in his wrath at the impiety of men, would shoot down his scorching arrows, causing pestilence to spread over the land." (2) _Æsthetic myths_ have their origin in the universal desire for amusement, in the revulsion of the mind from the humdrum of actuality. They furnish information that may not be practical, but is delightful; they elicit emotion--sympathy, tears, and laughter--for characters and events remote from our commonplace experience but close to the heart of things, and near and significant and enchanting to us in the atmosphere of imagination that embraces severed continents, inspires the dead with life, bestows color and breath upon the creatures of a dream, and wraps young and old in the wonder of hearing a new thing. The æsthetic myth, first, removes us from the sordid world of immediate and selfish needs, and then unrolls a vision of a world where men and things exist simply for the purpose of delighting us. And the enduring measure of delight which the æsthetic myth affords is the test of what we call its _beauty_. A myth, whether explanatory or æsthetic, is of unconscious growth, almost never concocted with a view to instruction. According to their subjects, æsthetic myths are either historic or romantic. (_a_) If _historic_, they utilize events which have a skeleton of fact. They supply flesh and sinew of divine or heroic adventure and character, blood and breath of probability and imagination. In historic myths the dependence of gods, heroes, and events upon the stern necessity of an overruling power, of fate or providence, is especially to be observed. Of this class is the Iliad of Homer. (_b_) If _romantic_, the myths are characterized by bolder selection or creation of fundamental events; indeed, events appear to be chosen with a view to displaying or developing the character of the hero. In such myths circumstances are not so important as what the hero does with circumstances. The hero is more independent than in the historic myth; his liberty, his choice,--in judgment, in conduct, and in feeling,--his responsibility, are the center of interest. In romantic myths like the Odyssey this sense of freedom does not impel the poet to capricious use of his material. But lesser bards than Homer have permitted their heroes to run riot in adventures that weary the imagination and offend the moral judgment. =290. Divisions of Inquiry.= We are next led to ask how these myths came into existence, and how it is that the same myth meets us under various forms in literatures and among peoples widely separate in time and place. These are questions of the _Origin_ and _Distribution_ of myths; and in this chapter we shall discuss the former. =291. Elements of the Myth.= The myths preserved in the literatures of many civilized nations, such as the Greek, present to the imaginative and the moral sense aspects fraught with contradiction. In certain myths the gods display themselves as beautiful, wise, and beneficent beings; in others they indulge in cruel, foolish, and unbeautiful practices and adventures. These contradictory elements have been called the reasonable and the senseless. A myth of Mother Earth (Demeter) mourning the loss of her daughter, the Springtide, is reasonable; a myth of Demeter devouring, in a fit of abstraction, the shoulder of the boy Pelops, and replacing it with ivory, is capricious, apparently senseless. "It is this silly, senseless, and savage element," as Max Müller says, "that makes mythology the puzzle which men have so long found it." =292. Reasonable Myths.= If myths were always reasonable, it would not be difficult to reach an agreement concerning some way by which they may have come into existence. _Imagination._ If we assume that the peoples who invented these stories of supernatural beings and events had, with due allowance for the discrepancy in mental development, imaginations like our own, there is nothing in the history of reasonable myths to baffle our understanding. For, at the present time, not only children and simple-minded men, like sailors or mountaineers, but cultivated men of ordinary poetic sensibility, bestow attributes of life upon inanimate things and abstract ideas. The sun is nowadays thirsty, the ship is a woman, the clouds threaten, charity suffereth long, the waves are angry, time will tell, and death swallows all things. The sun still rises, and, as Mr. Jasper maintains, "do move." By personification we, every day, bestow the attributes of human beings upon inanimate nature, animals, and abstractions. By our metaphors we perpetuate and diffuse the poetic illusion; we talk not perhaps of the arrows of Apollo, but of a sunstroke; our poetry abounds in symbols of the moon, of the swift-wingèd wind, of the ravening sea. In our metonymies we use the sign for the thing signified, the crown for the king, the flag for the honor of the country; and the crown and the flag are to-day possessed of attributes and individuality just as efficient as those that endowed the golden handmaids of Vulcan or the eagle of Jove. Nor is hyperbole any less in use among us than it was among the ancients; we glorify our political heroes with superlatives, they dignified theirs with divinity. _Belief._ But this resemblance in habits of imagination, while it may help us to appreciate the mental condition of primitive peoples, accentuates the distinction between our imagination and theirs. They, at some time or other, believed in these personifications. We do not believe. But their belief is easier to comprehend when we remember that the myths of savages are not a deliberate invention of any one individual, but are constructed by generations of people, and that many of them cluster about beings who were actually worshiped. Among primitive nations the sense of awe in the presence of magnificent objects of nature--mountains, the sky, the sun, the sea--is universal. It springs from the fact that savages do not deem themselves superior to nature. They are not conscious of souls whose flight is higher than that of nature. On the contrary, since sun, sea, and winds move, the savage invests them with free will and personality like man's. In proportion, however, as their size is grander or their movement more tremendous, these objects must be possessed of freedom, personality, and power exceeding those of man. Why, then, should not the savage believe, of beings worthy of worship and fear and gratitude, all and more than all that is accredited to man? Why not confer upon them human and superhuman passions and powers? If we were living, like the Greek of old, close to the heart of nature, such personification of natural powers would be more easy for us to appreciate. "If for us also, as for the Greek," says Ruskin,[376] "the sunrise means daily restoration to the sense of passionate gladness and of perfect life--if it means the thrilling of new strength through every nerve,--the shedding over us of a better peace than the peace of night, in the power of the dawn,--and the purging of evil vision and fear by the baptism of its dew;--if the sun itself is an influence, to us also, of spiritual good,--and becomes thus in reality, not in imagination, to us also, a spiritual power,--we may then soon overpass the narrow limit of conception which kept that power impersonal, and rise with the Greek to the thought of an angel who rejoiced as a strong man to run his course, whose voice, calling to life and to labor, rang round the earth, and whose going forth was to the ends of heaven." Regarding thus the religious condition of the savage, we may comprehend the existence of myths and his acceptance of them. =293. Unreasonable Myths.= But he would maintain this attitude of acceptance only in the matter of good and beneficent gods and of righteous or reasonable myths. For how could a human being believe of the god whom he worshiped and revered, deeds and attributes more silly and more shameful than man can conceive of his fellow man? When, therefore, we find senseless and shameless myths existing side by side with stories of the justice and righteousness of the same god, we must conclude that, since the worshiper could not believe both sets of attributes, he preserved his religious attitude before the good god only by virtue of rejecting the senseless myth. A man's religious belief would assist him to entertain only the reasonable myths. How, then, did the senseless and cruel stories come into existence? And were they ever believed? There are many answers to these questions. They may, however, be classified according to the theory of civilization that they assume. According to the _Theory of Deterioration_, or Human Depravity, man, although he had in the beginning knowledge of common facts, pure moral and religious ideas, and true poetic conceptions, has forgotten, with the lapse of time, the significance of words, facts, men, and events, adopted corrupt moral and religious notions, and given license to the diseased imagining of untrue and unlovely conceptions. According to the _Theory of Improvement_, or Progress, man, beginning with crude dreams and fancies about experience, life, the world, and God, has gradually developed truer and higher conceptions of his own nature, of his relation to the world about him, of duty, of art, and of religion. =294. Theory of Deterioration.= Let us consider first the interpretations of mythology that assume a backward tendency in early civilization. They are: (1) The _Historical_, or better called after its author, Euhemerus (B.C. 316), the _Euhemeristic_. This explanation assumes that myths of the gods are exaggerated adventures of historic individuals, chieftains, medicine men, heroes; and that supernatural events are distortions of natural but wonderful occurrences. In fact, it attributes to our forefathers a disease of the memory which prompted them to pervert facts. Jupiter, Odin, and Hercules were accordingly men who, after death, had been glorified, then deified, then invested with numerous characteristics and adventures appropriate to their exalted conditions of existence. The custom of worshiping ancestors, still existent in China and other countries, is adduced in support of this method of investigating myths, and it is undoubtedly true that the method explains the origin and growth of some myths. But it accounts rather for the reasonable than the senseless element of mythical adventure, while it fails to show how savages come to exaggerate their heroes into beings entirely out of the realm of that actual experience which is the basis of the historical assumption. (2) _The Philological Interpretation_[377] assumes also a disease of the memory by reason of which men misunderstand and confuse the meanings of words, and misapply the words themselves. Professor Max Müller calls this affection a disease of language. In ancient languages every such word as _day_, _night_, _earth_, _sun_, _spring_, _dawn_, had an ending expressive of gender, which naturally produced the corresponding idea of sex. These objects accordingly became in the process of generations not only persons, but male and female. As, also, the phrases expressing the existence or the activity of these natural objects lost their ancient signification under new colloquial coloring, primitive and simple statements of natural events acquired the garb and dignity of elaborate and often incongruous narratives, no longer about natural events, but about persons. Ancient language may, for instance, have said _sunrise_ follows the _dawn_. The word for sun was masculine; the word for dawn, feminine. In time the sentence came to mean, Apollo, the god of the sun, _chases_ Daphne, the maiden of the glowing dawn. But the word, _Daphne_, meant also a laurel that burned easily, hence might readily be devoted to the god of the sun. So Daphne, the maiden, assuming the form of Daphne, the laurel, escaped the pursuit of her ardent lover, by becoming the tree sacred to his worship.[378] The merit of the philological method is, that, tracing the name of a mythical character through kindred languages, it frequently ascertains for us the family of the myth, brings to light kindred forms of the myth, discovers in what language the name was born, and sometimes, giving us the original meaning of the divine name, "throws light on the legend of the bearer of the name and on its origin and first home."[379] But unfortunately there is very often no agreement among scholars about the original meaning of the names of mythical beings. The same name is frequently explained in half a dozen different ways. The same deity is reduced by different interpreters to half a dozen elements of nature. A certain goddess represents now the upper air, now light, now lightning, and yet again clouds. Naturally the attempts at construing her adventures must terminate in correspondingly dissimilar and unconvincing results. In fine, the philological explanation assumes as its starting point masculine and feminine names for objects of nature. It does not attempt to show how an object like the ocean came to be male and not female, or how it came to be a person at all. And this latter, in studying the origin of myths, is what should first be ascertained. We must not, however, fall into the error of supposing that the philologists look for the origin and growth of all myths in words and the diseases of words. Max Müller grants that mythology does not always create its own heroes, but sometimes lays hold of real history. He insists that mythologists should bear in mind that there may be in every mythological riddle elements which resist etymological analysis, for the simple reason that their origin was not etymological, but historical. (3) _The Allegorical Interpretation_ is akin to the philological in its results. It leads us to explain myths as embodiments in symbolic guise of hidden meaning: of physical, chemical, or astronomical facts; or of moral, religious, philosophical truth. The stories would at first exist as allegories, but in process of time would come to be understood literally. Thus Cronus, who devours his own children, is identified with the power that the Greeks called Chronos (Time), which may truly be said to destroy whatever it has brought into existence. The story of Io is interpreted in a similar manner. Io is the moon, and Argus the starry sky, which, as it were, keeps sleepless watch over her. The fabulous wanderings of Io represent the continual revolutions of the moon. This method of explanation rests upon the assumption that the men who made the allegories were proficient in physics, chemistry, astronomy, etc., and clever in allegory; but that, for some unknown reason, their descendants becoming stupid, knowledge as well as wit deserted the race. In some cases the myth was, without doubt, from the first an allegory; but where the myth was consciously fashioned as an allegory, in all probability it was preserved as such. It is not, however, likely that allegories of deep scientific or philosophical import were invented by savages. Where the myth has every mark of great antiquity,--is especially silly and senseless and savage,--it is safe to believe that any profound allegorical meaning, read into it, is the work of men of a later generation, who thus attempted to make reasonable the divine and heroic narratives which they could not otherwise justify and of whose existence they were ashamed. We find, moreover, in some cases a great variety of symbolic explanations of the same myth, one with as great claim to credence as another, since they spring from the same source,--the caprice or fancy of the expounder. Among the ancients Theagenes of Rhegium, six hundred years before Christ, suggested the allegorical theory and method of interpretation. In modern times he has been supported by Lord Bacon, whose "Wisdom of the Ancients" treats myths as "elegant and instructive fables," and by many Germans, especially Professor Creuzer. (4) _The Theological Interpretation._ This premises that mankind, either in general or through some chosen nationality, received from God an original revelation of pure religious ideas, and that, with the systematic and continued perversion of the moral sense, this knowledge of truth, morality, and spiritual religion fell into corruption. So in Greek mythology the attributes of the various gods would be imperfect irradiations of the attributes of the one God. A more limited conception is, that all mythological legends are derived from the narratives of Scripture, though the real facts have been disguised and altered. Thus, Deucalion is only another name for Noah, Hercules for Samson, Arion for Jonah, etc. Sir Walter Raleigh, in his "History of the World," says, "Jubal, Tubal, and Tubal-Cain were Mercury, Vulcan, and Apollo, inventors of pasturage, smithing, and music. The dragon which kept the golden apples was the serpent that beguiled Eve. Nimrod's tower was the attempt of the giants against heaven." There are doubtless many curious coincidences like these, but the theory cannot, without extravagance, be pushed so far as to account for any great proportion of the stories. For many myths antedate the scriptural narratives of which they are said to be copies; many more, though resembling the scriptural stories, originated among peoples ignorant of the Hebrew Bible. The theory rests upon two unproved assumptions: one, that all nations have had a chance to be influenced by the same set of religious doctrines; the other, that God made his revelation in the beginning once for all, and has done nothing to help man toward righteousness since then. The theological theory has been advocated by Voss and other Germans in the seventeenth century, by Jacob Bryant in 1774, and in this century most ably by Gladstone.[380] =295.= We are now ready for the explanation of myth-making based upon the =Theory of Progress=. This is best stated by Mr. Andrew Lang,[381] whose argument is, when possible, given in his own language. To the question how the senseless element got into myths, the advocates of this theory answer that it was in the minds and in the social condition of the savages who invented the myths. But since we cannot put ourselves back in history thousands of years to examine the habits of thought and life of early savages, we are constrained to examine whether anywhere nowadays there may exist "any stage of the human intellect in which these divine adventures and changes of men into animals, trees, stars, this belief in seeing and talking with the dead, are regarded as possible incidents of daily human life." As the result of such scientific investigation, numerous races of savages have been found who at this present day accept and believe just such silly and senseless elements of myth as puzzle us and have puzzled many of the cultivated ancients who found them in their inherited mythologies. The theory of development is, then, that "the savage and senseless element in mythology is, for the most part, a legacy from ancestors of civilized races who, at the time that they invented the senseless stories, were in an intellectual state not higher than that of our contemporary Australians, Bushmen, Red Indians, the lower races of South America, and other worse than barbaric people of the nineteenth century." But what are the characteristics of the mental state of our contemporary savages? First and foremost, _curiosity_ that leads them to inquire into the causes of things; and second, _credulity_ that impels them to invent or to accept childish stories that may satisfy their untutored experience. We find, moreover, that savages nowadays think of everything around them as having life and the parts and passions of persons like themselves. "The sky, sun, wind, sea, earth, mountains, trees, regarded as persons, are mixed up with men, beasts, stars, and stones on the same level of personality and life." The forces of nature, animals, and things have for these Polynesians and Bushmen the same powers and attributes that men have; and in their opinion men have the following attributes: "1. Relationship to animals and ability to be transformed, and to transform others, into animals and other objects. "2. Magical accomplishments, such as power to call up ghosts, or to visit ghosts and the region of the dead; power over the seasons, the sun, moon, stars, weather, and so forth."[382] The stories of savages to-day abound in adventures based upon qualities and incidents like these. If these stories should survive in the literature of these nations after the nations have been civilized, they would appear senseless and silly and cruel to the descendants of our contemporary savages. In like manner, "as the ancient Greeks, Egyptians, and Norsemen advanced in civilization, their religious thought and artistic taste were shocked by myths which were preserved by local priesthoods, or in ancient poems, or in popular religious ceremonials.... We may believe that ancient and early tribes framed gods like themselves in action and in experience, and that the allegorical element in myths is the addition of later peoples who had attained to purer ideas of divinity, yet dared not reject the religion of their ancestors."[383] The senseless element in the myths would, by this theory, be, for the most part, a "survival." Instead, then, of deteriorating, the races that invented senseless myths are, with ups and downs of civilization, intellectually and morally improved, to such extent that they desire to repudiate the senseless element in their mythical and religious traditions, or to explain it as reasonable by way of allegory. This method of research depends upon the science of mind--psychology, and the science of man--anthropology. It may be called the _Anthropological Method_. The theory is that of "survival." According to this theory many of the puzzling elements of myth resolve themselves into survivals of primitive philosophy, science, or history. From the first proceed the cruder systems of physical and spiritual evolution, the generations of gods and the other-world of ghosts; from the second, the cruder attempts at explaining the phenomena of the natural and animal world by endowing them with human and frequently magical powers; from the third, the narratives invented to account for the sanctity of certain shrines and rituals, and for tribal customs and ceremonials, the origin of which had been forgotten. These last are known as _ætiological_ myths; they pretend to assign the _aitía_, or _reason_, why Delphi, for instance, should have the oracle of Apollo, or why the ritual of Demeter should be celebrated at Eleusis and in a certain dramatic manner. It is of course probable that occasionally the questionable element of the myth originated in germs other than savage curiosity and credulity: for instance, in the adventures of some great hero, or in a disease of language by which statements about objects came to be understood as stories about persons, or perhaps in a conscious allegory, or, even, in the perversion of some ancient purer form of moral or religious truth. But, in general, the root of myth-making is to be found in the mental and social condition of primitive man, the confused personality that he extended to his surroundings, and the belief in magical powers that he conferred upon those of his tribesmen who were shrewdest and most influential. This mental condition of the myth-maker should be premised in all scientific explanations of myth-making. The transition is easy from the personification of the elements of nature and the acceptance of fictitious history to the notion of supernatural beings presiding over, and governing, the different objects of nature--air, fire, water, the sun, moon, and stars, the mountains, forests, and streams--or possessing marvelous qualities of action, passion, virtue, foresight, spirituality, and vice. The Greeks, whose imagination was lively, peopled all nature with such invisible inhabitants and powers. In Greece, says Wordsworth,[384] In that fair clime the lonely herdsman, stretched On the soft grass through half a summer's day, With music lulled his indolent repose: And, in some fit of weariness, if he, When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear A distant strain, far sweeter than the sounds Which his poor skill could make, his fancy fetched, Even from the blazing chariot of the sun, A beardless Youth, who touched a golden lute, And filled the illumined groves with ravishment. The nightly hunter, lifting a bright eye Up towards the crescent moon, with grateful heart Called on the lovely wanderer who bestowed That timely light, to share his joyous sport: And hence, a beaming Goddess with her Nymphs, Across the lawn and through the darksome grove, Not unaccompanied with tuneful notes By echo multiplied from rock or cave, Swept in the storm of chase; as moon and stars Glance rapidly along the clouded heaven, When winds are blowing strong. The traveler slaked His thirst from rill or gushing fount, and thanked The Naiad. Sunbeams, upon distant hills Gliding apace, with shadows in their train, Might, with small help from fancy, be transformed Into fleet Oreads sporting visibly. The Zephyrs, fanning, as they passed, their wings, Lacked not, for love, fair objects whom they wooed With gentle whisper. Withered boughs grotesque, Stripped of their leaves and twigs by hoary age, From depth of shaggy covert peeping forth In the low vale, or on steep mountain side; And, sometimes, intermixed with stirring horns Of the live deer, or goat's depending beard,-- These were the lurking Satyrs, a wild brood Of gamesome deities; or Pan himself, The simple shepherd's awe-inspiring God. The phases of significance and beauty through which the physical or natural myth may develop are expressed with poetic grace by Ruskin, in his "Queen of the Air."[385] The reader must, however, guard against the supposition that any myth has sprung into existence fully equipped with physical, religious, and moral import. Ruskin himself says, "To the mean person the myth always meant little; to the noble person, much." Accordingly, as we know, to the savage the myth was savage; to the devotee it became religious; to the artist, beautiful; to the philosopher, recondite and significant--in the course of centuries. "If we seek," says Ruskin, "to ascertain the manner in which the story first crystallized into its shape, we shall find ourselves led back generally to one or other of two sources--either to actual historical events, represented by the fancy under figures personifying them, or else to natural phenomena similarly endowed with life by the imaginative power, usually more or less under the influence of terror. The historical myths we must leave the masters of history to follow; they, and the events they record, being yet involved in great, though attractive and penetrable, mystery. But the stars and hills and storms are with us now, as they were with others of old; and it only needs that we look at them with the earnestness of those childish eyes to understand the first words spoken of them by the children of men. And then, in all the most beautiful and enduring myths, we shall find not only a literal story of a real person--not only a parallel imagery of moral principle--but an underlying worship of natural phenomena, out of which both have sprung, and in which both forever remain rooted. Thus, from the real sun, rising and setting; from the real atmosphere, calm in its dominion of unfading blue and fierce in its descent of tempest--the Greek forms first the idea of two entirely personal and corporeal gods (Apollo and Athena), whose limbs are clothed in divine flesh, and whose brows are crowned with divine beauty; yet so real that the quiver rattles at their shoulder, and the chariot bends beneath their weight. And, on the other hand, collaterally with these corporeal images, and never for one instant separated from them, he conceives also two omnipresent spiritual influences, of which one illuminates, as the sun, with a constant fire, whatever in humanity is skillful and wise; and the other, like the living air, breathes the calm of heavenly fortitude and strength of righteous anger into every human breast that is pure and brave. "Now, therefore, in nearly every [natural] myth of importance, ... you have to discern these three structural parts--the root and the two branches. The root, in physical existence, sun, or sky, or cloud, or sea; then the personal incarnation of that, becoming a trusted and companionable deity, with whom you may walk hand in hand, as a child with its brother or its sister; and lastly, the moral significance of the image, which is in all the great myths eternally and beneficently true." What Ruskin calls, above, the historical myth may be the euhemeristic transformation of real events and personages, as of a flood and those concerned in it; or it may be the ætiological invention of a story to account for rituals of which the origin has been forgotten, as of the Dionysiac revels, with their teaching of liberation from the sordid limits of mortality. In either case, especially the latter, the imaginative and moral significance of the historical myth has in general developed with the advance of civilization. Myth, in fine, whether natural, historical, or spiritual, "is not to be regarded as mere error and folly, but as an interesting product of the human mind. It is sham history, the fictitious narrative of events that never happened."[386] But that is not the full statement of the case. Myth is also actual history of early and imperfect stages of thought and belief; it is the true narrative of unenlightened observation, of infantine gropings after truth. Whatever reservations scholars may make on other points, most of them will concur in these: that some myths came into existence by a "disease of language"; that some were invented to explain names of nations and of places, and some to explain the existence of fossils and bones that suggested prehistoric animals and men; that many were invented to gratify the ancestral pride of chieftains and clans and to justify the existence of religious and tribal ceremonials, and the common cult of departed souls, and that very many obtained consistency and form as explanations of the phenomena of nature, as expressions of the reverence felt for the powers of nature, and as personifications, in general, of the passions and the ideals of primitive mankind.[387] FOOTNOTES: [375] Myths and Myth-Makers, p. 18. Proper nouns have been anglicized. [376] Ruskin, Queen of the Air. [377] See Max Müller's Chips from a German Workshop, Science of Religion, etc.; Cox's Aryan Myths, and numerous articles by the learned authors of Roscher's Ausführliches Lexikon. [378] Max Müller, Essay on Comparative Mythology, Oxford Essays, 1856; Science of Religion, 2, 548 _n_. [379] Andrew Lang, Myth, Ritual, and Religion, 1, 24-25, and Professor C. P. Tiele, as cited by Lang. [380] W. E. Gladstone, Homer and the Homeric Age; Juventus Mundi; The Olympian Religion, _North American Review_, Feb.-May, 1892. [381] Andrew Lang, Myth, Ritual, and Religion, 2 vols., London, 1887; and Encyc. Brit., 9th ed., article, _Mythology_. Mannhardt, Antike Wald-und Feldkultus, Berlin, 1877. E. B. Tylor, Anthropology; Primitive Culture. [382] Encyc. Brit., _Mythology_. [383] Chr. A. Lobeck, Aglaophamus: On the Causes of Greek Mythology. Cited by Lang. [384] Excursion, Bk. 4. [385] Concerning which may be accepted the verdict that Mr. Ruskin passes upon Payne Knight's Symbolical Language of Ancient Art, "Not trustworthy, being little more than a mass of conjectural memoranda; but the heap is suggestive, if well sifted." [386] E. B. Tylor, Anthropology, p. 387. New York, 1881. [387] See also L. Preller, Griechische Mythologie, 1, 19. Max Müller, Comparative Mythology, Oxford Essays, 1856, pp. 1-87; also Science of Religion, 1873, pp. 335-403; Philosophy of Mythology; and Science of Language, 7th ed., 2, 421-571. Hermann Paul, Grundriss der Germanischen Philologie, Bd. 1, Lfg. 5, 982-995, Mythologie (von E. Mogk). W. Y. Sellar, Augustan Poets. Louis Dyer, Studies of the Gods in Greece. Talfourd Ely, Olympus. A. H. Petiscus, The Gods of Olympus (translated by Katherine A. Raleigh). E. Rohde, Psyche. B. I. Wheeler, Dionysos and Immortality. CHAPTER XXXI THE DISTRIBUTION OF MYTHS =296. Theories of Resemblance.= Several theories of the appearance of the same explanatory or æsthetic myth under various guises, in lands remote one from another, have been advanced; but none of them fully unveils the mystery. The difficulty lies not so much in accounting for the similarity of thought or material in different stories, as for the resemblance in isolated incidents and in the arrangement of incidents or plot. The principal theories of the distribution of myths are as follows: (1) That the resemblances between the myths of different nations are purely _accidental_. This theory leaves us no wiser than we were. (2) That the stories have been _borrowed_ by one nation from another. This will account for exchange only between nations historically acquainted with each other. It will not account for the existence of the same arrangement of incidents in a Greek myth and in a Polynesian romance. (3) That all myths, if traced chronologically backward and geographically from land to land, will be found _to have originated_ _in India_.[388] This theory fails to account for numerous stories current among the modern nationalities of Europe, of Africa, and of India itself. It leaves also unexplained the existence of certain myths in Egypt many centuries before India had any known history: such as, in all probability, the Egyptian myth of Osiris. The theory, therefore, is open to the objection made to the theory of borrowing. (4) That similar myths are based upon _historical traditions_ similar in various countries or inherited from some mother country. But, although some historical myths may have descended from a mother race, it has already been demonstrated (§ 294, (1)) that the historical (euhemeristic) hypothesis is inadequate. It is, moreover, not likely that many historical incidents, like those related in the Iliad and the Odyssey, happened in the same order and as actual history in Asia Minor, Ithaca, Persia, and Norway. But we find myths containing such incidents in all these countries.[389] (5) That the Aryan tribes (from which the Indians, Persians, Phrygians, Greeks, Romans, Germans, Norsemen, Russians, and Celts are descended) "started from a common center" in the highlands of Northern India, "and that from their ancient home they must have carried away, if not the developed myth, yet the quickening germ from which might spring leaves and fruits, varying in form and hue according to the soil to which it should be committed and the climate under which the plant might reach maturity."[390] Against this theory it may be urged that stories having only the undeveloped germ or idea in common would not, with any probability, after they had been developed independently of each other, possess the remarkable resemblance in details that many widely separated myths display. Moreover, the assumption of this common stock considers only Aryan tribes: it ignores Africans, Mongolians, American Indians, and other peoples whose myths resemble the Aryan, but are not traceable to the same original germ. The _Aryan germ-theory_ has, however, the merit of explaining resemblances between many myths of different Aryan nations. (6) That the existence of similar incidents or situations is to be explained as resulting from the common facts of human thought, experience, and sentiment. This may be called the _psychological_ _theory_. It was entertained by Grimm, and goes hand in hand with the anthropological, or "survivalist," explanation of the elements of myth. "In the long history of mankind," says Mr. Andrew Lang, "it is impossible to deny that stories may conceivably have spread from a single center, and been handed on from races like the Indo-European and Semitic to races as far removed from them in every way as the Zulus, the Australians, the Eskimos, the natives of the South Sea Islands. But while the possibility of the diffusion of myths by borrowing and transmission must be allowed for, the hypothesis of the origin of myths in the savage state of the intellect supplies a ready explanation of their wide diffusion." Many products of early art--clay bowls and stone weapons--are peculiar to no one national taste or skill, they are what might have been expected of _human_ conditions and intelligence. "Many myths may be called 'human' in this sense. They are the rough product of the early human mind, and are not yet characterized by the differentiations of race and culture. Such myths might spring up anywhere among untutored men, and anywhere might survive into civilized literature."[391] The distribution of myth, like its origin, is inexplicable by any one theory. The discovery of racial families and of family traditions narrows the problem, but does not solve it. The existence of the same story in unrelated nationalities remains a perplexing fact, towards the explanation of which the theories of "borrowing" and of "similar historic tradition," while plausible, are but unsubstantiated contributions. And until we possess the earliest records of those unrelated nationalities that have similar myths, or until we discover monuments and log books of some commercial nation that in prehistoric times circumnavigated the globe and deposited on remote shores and islands the seeds of the parent mythic plant, we must accept as our only scientific explanation the psychological, or so-called _human_, theory:--Given similar mental condition with similar surroundings, similar imaginative products, called myths, will result.[392] FOOTNOTES: [388] Benfey and Cosquin. See Lang's Myth, Ritual, and Religion, 2, 299. [389] Lang, Myth, Ritual, and Religion, 2, 300; Cox, Mythology of the Aryan Nations, 1, 100. [390] The Rev. Sir G. W. Cox, Mythology of Aryan Nations, 1, 99; also, same theory, Max Müller's Chips from a German Workshop; Andrew Lang, Myth, Ritual, and Religion, 2, 297. [391] Encyc. Brit., 9th ed. Article, _Mythology_. Cf. Tylor's Primitive Culture, 1, 369; Tylor's Anthropology, p. 397. [392] See T. C. Johnston's Did the Ph[oe]nicians Discover America? 1892. CHAPTER XXXII THE PRESERVATION OF MYTHS =297. Traditional History.= Before the introduction of writing, myths were preserved in popular traditions, in the sacred ceremonials of colleges of priests, in the narratives chanted by families of minstrels or by professional bards wandering from village to village or from court to court, and in occasional hymns sung by privileged harpists, like Demodocus of Phæacia,[393] in honor of a chieftain, an ancestor, or a god. Many of these early bards are mere names to us. Most of them are probably as mythical as the songs with which they are accredited. The following is a brief account of mythical prophets, of mythical musicians and poets, and of the actual poets and historians who recorded the mythologies from which English literature draws its classical myths,--the Greek, the Roman, the Norse, and the German. =298. In Greece.= (1) _Mythical Prophets._ To some of the oldest bards was attributed the gift of prophecy. Indeed, nearly every expedition of mythology was accompanied by one of these seers, priests, or "medicine men," as we might call them. _Melampus_ was the first Greek said to be endowed with prophetic powers. Before his house there stood an oak tree containing a serpent's nest. The old serpents were killed by the slaves, but Melampus saved the young ones. One day when he was asleep under the oak, the serpents licked his ears with their tongues, enabling him to understand the language of birds and creeping things.[394] At one time his enemies seized and imprisoned him. But Melampus, in the silence of the night, heard from the woodworms in the timbers that the supports of the house were nearly eaten through and the roof would soon fall in. He told his captors. They took his warning, escaped destruction, rewarded the prophet, and held him in high honor. Other famous soothsayers were Amphiaraüs, who took part in the War of the Seven against Thebes; Calchas, who accompanied the Greeks during the Trojan War; Helenus and Cassandra, of King Priam's family, who prophesied for the Trojan forces; Tiresias, the blind prophet of Thebes; and Mopsus, who attended the Argonauts. The stories of these expeditions are given in preceding chapters. (2) _Mythical Musicians and Poets._ Since the poets of antiquity sang their stories or hymns to an accompaniment of their own upon the harp or lyre, they were skilled in the art of music as well as in that of verse. _Orpheus_, whose adventures have been narrated, passes in tradition for the oldest of Greek lyrists, and the special favorite, even the son, of the god Apollo, patron of musicians. This Thracian bard is said to have taught mysterious truths concerning the origin of things and the immortality of the soul. But the fragments of Orphic hymns which are attributed to him are probably the work of philosophers of a much later period in Greek literature. Another Thracian bard, _Thamyris_, is said in his presumption to have challenged the Muses to a trial of skill. Conquered in the contest, he was deprived of his sight. To _Musæus_, the son of Orpheus, was attributed a hymn on the Eleusinian mysteries, and other sacred poems and oracles. Milton couples his name with that of Orpheus: But, O sad Virgin! that thy power Might raise Musæus from his bower, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek.[395] Other legendary bards or musicians were Linus, Marsyas, and Amphion. (3) _The Poets of Mythology._ _Homer_, from whose poems of the Iliad and Odyssey we have taken the chief part of our chapters on the Trojan War and the return of the Grecians, is almost as mythical a personage as the heroes he celebrates. The traditionary story is that he was a wandering minstrel, blind and old, who traveled from place to place singing his lays to the music of his harp, in the courts of princes or the cottages of peasants,--a dependent upon the voluntary offerings of his hearers. Byron calls him "the blind old man of Scio's rocky isle"; and a well-known epigram, alluding to the uncertainty of the fact of his birthplace, runs: Seven wealthy towns contend for Homer dead, Through which the living Homer begged his bread. These seven places were Smyrna, Chios (now Scio), Colophon, Ithaca, Pylos, Argos, and Athens. Modern scholars have doubted whether the Homeric poems are the work of any single mind. This uncertainty arises, in part, from the difficulty of believing that poems of such length could have been committed to writing in the age usually assigned to these, when materials capable of transmitting long productions were not yet in use. On the other hand, it is asked how poems of such length could have been handed down from age to age by means of the memory alone. This question is answered by the statement that there was a professional body of men whose business it was to commit to memory and rehearse for pay the national and patriotic legends. Pisistratus of Athens ordered a commission of scholars (about 537 B.C.) to collect and revise the Homeric poems; and it is probable that at that time certain passages of the Iliad and Odyssey, as we now have them, were interpolated. Beside the Iliad and the Odyssey, many other epics passed in antiquity under Homer's name. The so-called Homeric Hymns to the gods, which were composed by various poets after the death of Homer, are a source of valuable information concerning the attributes of the divinities addressed. The date assigned to Homer, on the authority of Herodotus, is 850 B.C. The preservation and further fashioning of myths fell, after Homer's time, into the hands of the Rhapsodists, who chanted epic songs, and of the Cyclic poets, who elaborated into various epic _circles_, or completed wholes, neglected traditions of the Trojan War. Among these cyclic poems were the Cyprian Lays, which related the beginnings of the Trojan War and the first nine years of the siege, thus leading up to the Iliad; the Æthiopis, which continued the Iliad and told of the death of Achilles; the Little Iliad and the Iliupersis, which narrated the fall of Troy and magnified the exploits of Ajax and Philoctetes; and the Nostoi, or Home-Comings, which told the adventures of various Greek heroes during the period of ten years between the end of the Iliad and the beginning of the Odyssey. Most of these poems were once attributed to Homer. They are all lost, but the names of some of their authors survive. There was also a cycle which told of the two wars against Thebes. _Hesiod_ is, like Homer, one of the most important sources of our knowledge of Greek mythology. He is thought by some to have been a contemporary of Homer, but concerning the relative dates of the two poets there is no certainty. Hesiod was born in Ascra in B[oe]otia; he spent his youth as a shepherd on Mount Helicon, his manhood in the neighborhood of Corinth, and wrote two great poems, the Works and Days, and the Theogony, or Genealogy of the Gods. From the former we obtain a connected account of Greek traditions concerning the primitive commodities of life, the arts of agriculture and navigation, the sacred calendar, and the various prehistoric ages. From the latter poem we learn the Greek mythology of the creation of the world, the family of the gods, their wars, and their attitude toward primeval man. While Hesiod may have composed his works at a somewhat later period than Homer, it is noteworthy that his stories of the gods have more of the savage or senseless element than those attributed to Homer. The artist, or artists, of the Iliad and the Odyssey seem to have refined the stories into poetic gold; Hesiod has gathered them in the ore, like so many specimens for a museum. A company of _Lyric Poets_, of whom Stesichorus (620 B.C.), Alcæus (611 B.C.), Sappho (610 B.C.), Arion (600 B.C.), Simonides of Ceos (556 B.C.), Ibycus (540 B.C.), Anacreon (530 B.C.), and Pindar (522 B.C.) are the most prominent, have contributed much to our knowledge of mythology. They have left us hymns to the gods, references to mythical heroes, and accounts of more or less pathetic legendary adventures. Of the works of _Sappho_ few fragments remain, but they establish her claim to eminent poetical genius. Her story is frequently alluded to. Being passionately in love with a beautiful youth named Phaon, and failing to obtain a return of affection, she is said to have thrown herself from the promontory of Leucadia into the sea, under a superstition that those who should take that "Lover's Leap" would, if not destroyed, be cured of their love. Of _Arion_ the greatest work was a dithyramb or choral hymn to the god of wine. It is said that his music and song were of such sweetness as to charm the monsters of the sea; and that when thrown overboard on one occasion by avaricious seamen, he was borne safely to land by an admiring dolphin. Spenser represents Arion, mounted on his dolphin, accompanying the train of Neptune and Amphitrite: Then was there heard a most celestial sound Of dainty music, which did next ensue Before the spouse: that was Arion crowned Who, playing on his harp, unto him drew The ears and hearts of all that goodly crew; That even yet the dolphin which him bore Through the Ægean seas from pirates' view, Stood still by him astonished at his lore, And all the raging seas for joy forgot to roar.[396] _Simonides_ was one of the most prolific of the early poets of Greece, but only a few fragments of his compositions have descended to us. He wrote hymns, triumphal odes, and elegies, and in the last species of composition he particularly excelled. His genius was inclined to the pathetic; none could touch with truer effect the chords of human sympathy. The Lamentation of Danaë, the most important of the fragments which remain of his poetry, is based upon the tradition that Danaë and her infant son were confined by order of her father Acrisius in a chest and set adrift on the sea. The myth of her son, Perseus, has already been narrated. Myths received their freest and perhaps most ideal treatment at the hands of the greatest lyric poet of Greece, _Pindar_ (522 B.C.). In his hymns and songs of praise to gods and in his odes composed for the victors in the national athletic contests, he was accustomed to use the mythical exploits of Greek heroes as a text from which to draw morals appropriate to the occasion.[397] The three great _Tragic Poets_ of Greece have handed down to us a wealth of mythological material. From the plays of _Æschylus_ (525 B.C.) we gather, among other noble lessons, the fortunes of the family of Agamemnon, the narrative of the expedition against Thebes, the sufferings of Prometheus, benefactor of men. In the tragedies of _Sophocles_ (495 B.C.) we have a further account of the family of Agamemnon, myths of [OE]dipus of Thebes and his children, stories connected with the Trojan War, and the last adventure and the death of Hercules. Of the dramas of _Euripides_ (480 B.C.) there remain to us seventeen, in which are found stories of the daughters of Agamemnon, the rare and beautiful narrative of Alcestis, and the adventures of Medea. All of these stories have been recounted in their proper places. The _Comedies of Aristophanes_, also, are replete with matters of mythological import. Of the later poets of mythology, only two need be mentioned here,--_Apollonius_ of Rhodes (194 B.C.), who wrote in frigid style the story of Jason's Voyage for the Golden Fleece; and _Theocritus_ of Sicily (270 B.C.), whose rural idyls are at once charmingly natural and romantic.[398] (4) _Historians of Mythology._ The earliest narrators in prose of the myths, legends and genealogies of Greece lived about 600 B.C. Herodotus, the "father of history" (484 B.C.), embalms various myths in his account of the conflicts between Asia and Greece. Apollodorus (140 B.C.) gathers the legends of Greece later incorporated in the Library of Greek Mythology. That delightful traveler, Pausanias, makes special mention, in his Tour of Greece, of the sacred customs and legends that had maintained themselves as late as his time (160 A.D.). Lucian, in his Dialogues of the Gods and Dialogues of the Dead, awakens "inextinguishable laughter" by his satire on ancient faith and fable. =299. Roman Poets of Mythology.= _Virgil_, called also by his surname, Maro, from whose poem of the Æneid we have taken the story of Æneas, was one of the great poets who made the age of the Roman emperor, Augustus, celebrated. Virgil was born in Mantua in the year 70 B.C. His great poem is ranked next to those of Homer, in that noble class of poetical composition, the epic. Virgil is inferior to Homer in originality and invention. The Æneid, written in an age of culture and science, lacks that charming atmosphere of belief which invests the naïve, or _popular_, epic. The myths concerning the founding of Rome, which Virgil has received from earlier writers, he has here fused into a _literary_ epic. But what the Æneid lacks of epic simplicity, it makes up in patriotic spirit, in lofty moral and civic ideals, in correctness of taste, and in stylistic form. _Ovid_, often alluded to in poetry by his other name, Naso, was born in the year 43 B.C. He was educated for public life and held some offices of considerable dignity; but poetry was his delight, and he early resolved to cultivate it. He accordingly sought the society of contemporary poets and was acquainted with Horace and saw Virgil, though the latter died when Ovid was yet too young and undistinguished to have formed his acquaintance. Ovid spent an easy life at Rome in the enjoyment of a competent income. He was intimate with the family of Augustus, the emperor; and it is supposed that some serious offense given to a member of that family was the cause of an event which reversed the poet's happy circumstances and clouded the latter portion of his life. At the age of fifty he was banished from Rome and ordered to betake himself to Tomi on the borders of the Black Sea. His only consolation in exile was to address his wife and absent friends. His letters were all in verse. They are called the "Tristia," or Sorrows, and Letters from Pontus. The two great works of Ovid are his "Metamorphoses" or Transformations, and his "Fasti," or Poetic Calendar. They are both mythological poems, and from the former we have taken many of our stories of Grecian and Roman mythology. These poems have thus been characterized: "The rich mythology of Greece furnished Ovid, as it may still furnish the poet, the painter, and the sculptor, with materials for his art. With exquisite taste, simplicity, and pathos he has narrated the fabulous traditions of early ages, and given to them that appearance of reality which only a master hand could impart. His pictures of nature are striking and true; he selects with care that which is appropriate; he rejects the superfluous, and when he has completed his work, it is neither defective nor redundant. The 'Metamorphoses' are read with pleasure by the young and old of every civilized land." In an incidental manner, _Horace_, the prince of Roman lyric poets, and the lyric and elegiac writers, _Catullus_, _Tibullus_, and _Propertius_, have liberally increased our knowledge of Greek and Roman myth.[399] _Seneca_, the teacher of Nero, is best known for his philosophical treatises; but he wrote, also, tragedies, the materials of which are well-known Greek legends. _Apuleius_, born in Africa, 114 A.D., interests us as the compiler of a clever romance, The Golden Ass;[400] the most pleasing episode of which, the story of Cupid and Psyche, has been elsewhere related.[401] =300. Records of Norse Mythology.=[402] A system of mythology of especial interest,--as belonging to the race from which we, through our English ancestors, derive our origin,--is that of the Norsemen, who inhabited the countries now known as Sweden, Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. Their mythological lore has been transmitted by means of Runes, Skaldic poems, the Eddas, and the Sagas. _The Runes._ The earliest method of writing prevalent among the Norsemen was by runes. The word means _hidden lore_, or _mystery_. The earliest runes were merely fanciful signs supposed to possess mysterious power. As a synonym for _writing_, the term was first applied to the Northern alphabet, itself derived from ancient Greek and Roman coins. Of the old Scandinavian runes several specimens have been found--one an inscription on a golden horn of the third or fourth century A.D., which was dug up in Schleswig a hundred and sixty years ago; another, on a stone at Tune in Norway. From such an alphabet the Anglo-Saxon runes were derived. Inscriptions in later Scandinavian runes have been discovered in Sweden, Denmark, and the Isle of Man. The characters are of the stiff and angular form necessitated by the materials on which they were inscribed,--tombstones, spoons, chairs, oars, and so forth.[403] It is doubtful whether mythological poems were ever written in this way; dedications to pagan deities, ditties of the eleventh century, and love-spells have, however, been found. _The Skaldic Poems._ The bards and poets of the Norsemen were the Skalds. They were the depositaries of whatever historic lore there was; and it was their office to mingle something of intellectual gratification with the rude feasts of the warriors, by rehearsing, with such accompaniments of poetry and music as their skill could afford, the exploits of heroes living or dead. Such songs were called Drapas. The origin of Skaldic poetry is lost in mythic or prehistoric darkness, but the Skalds of Iceland continued to play a most important part in the literary development of the north as late as the end of the fourteenth century. Without their coöperation, the greater part of the songs and sagas of genuine antiquity could hardly have reached us. The Skaldic diction, which was polished to an artistic extreme, with its pagan metaphors and similes retained its supremacy over literary form even after the influence of Christianity had revolutionized national thought.[404] _The Eddas._ The chief mythological records of the Norse are the Eddas and the Sagas. The word _Edda_ has usually been connected with the Icelandic for _great-grandmother_;[405] it has also been regarded as a corruption of the High German _Erda_, Mother Earth, from whom, according to the lay in which the word first occurs, the earliest race of mankind sprang,[406]--or as the _point_ or _head_ of Norse poetry,[407] or as a tale concerned with _death_,[408] or as derived from Odde, the home of the reputed collector of the Elder Edda. But, of recent years, scholars have looked with most favor upon a derivation from the Icelandic _óðr_, which means mind, or poetry.[409] There are two Icelandic collections called Eddas: Snorri's and Sæmund's. Until the year 1643 the name was applied to a book, principally in prose, containing Mythical Tales, a Treatise on the Poetic Art and Diction, a Poem on Meters, and a Rhymed Glossary of Synonyms, with an appendix of minor treatises on grammar and rhetoric--the whole intended as a guide for poets. Although a note in the Upsala manuscript, of date about 1300 A.D., asserted that this work was "put together" by Snorri Sturlason, who lived 1178-1241, the world was not informed of the fact until 1609, when Arngrim Johnsson made the announcement in his Constitutional History of Iceland.[410] While the main treatises on the poetic art are, in general, Snorri's, the treatises on grammar and rhetoric have been, with more or less certitude, assigned to other writers of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. It is probable, too, that in the Mythical Tales, or the Delusion of Gylfi, Snorri merely enlarged and edited with poetical illustrations the work of earlier hands. The poets of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries do not speak of Snorri, but they refer continually to the "rules of Edda," and frequently to the obscurity and the conventionality of Eddic phraseology, figures, and art. Even at the present day in Iceland it is common to hear the term "void of Eddic art," or "a bungler in Eddic art." A rearrangement of Snorri's Edda, by Magnus Olafsson (1574-1636), is much better known than the original work. In 1642, Bishop Bryniolf Sveinsson discovered a manuscript of the mythological poems of Iceland. Misled by theories of his own and by a fanciful suggestion of the famous antiquary Biorn of Scardsa, he attributed the composition of these poems to Sæmund the Wise, a historian who lived 1056-1133. Henceforth, consequently, Snorri's work is called the Younger, or Prose Edda, in contradistinction to Bryniolf's find, which is known as the Elder, the Poetical Edda, or the Edda of Sæmund. The oldest manuscript of the Poetical Edda is of the thirteenth century. Its contents were probably collected not later than 1150. The composition of the poems cannot well be placed earlier than the ninth or tenth centuries after Christ; and a consideration of the habits, laws, geography, and vocabulary illustrated by the poems leads eminent scholars to assign the authorship to emigrants of the south Norwegian tribes who, sailing westward, "won Waterford and Limerick, and kinged it in York and East England."[411] The poems are Icelandic, however, in their general character and history. They are principally of heroic and mythical import: such as the stories of Balder's Fate, of Skirnir's Journey, of Thor's Hammer, of Helgi the Hunding's Bane, and the twenty lays that in fragmentary fashion tell the eventful history of the Volsungs and the Nibelungs.[412] _The Sagas._ The Eddas contain many myths and mythical features that contradict the national character of both Germans and Norsemen, but the sagas have their roots in Norse civilization and are national property.[413] Of these mythic-heroic prose compositions the most important to us is the Volsunga Saga, which was put together probably in the twelfth century and is based in part upon the poems of the Elder Edda, in part upon floating traditions, and in part upon popular songs that now are lost.[414] =301. Records of German Mythology.=[412] The story of the Volsungs and the Nibelungs springs from mythological sources common to the whole Teutonic race. Two distinct versions of the saga survive,--the Low or North German, which we have already noticed in the lays of the Elder Edda and in the Norse Volsunga Saga, and the High or South German, which has been preserved in German folk songs and in the Nibelungenlied, or Lay of the Nibelungs, that has grown out of them. The Norse form of the story exhibits a later survival of the credulous, or myth-making, mental condition. The Lay of the Nibelungs absorbed, at an earlier date, historical elements, and began sooner to restrict the personality of its heroes within the compass of human limitations.[415] Although there are many manuscripts, or fragments of manuscripts, of the Nibelungenlied that attest its popularity between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries, it was not until the Swiss critic, J. J. Bodmer, published, in 1757, portions of two ancient poems, "The Revenge of Kriemhild" and "The Lament over the Heroes of Etzel," that the attention of modern scholars was called to this famous German epic. Since that time many theories of the composition of the Nibelungenlied have been advanced. It has been held by some that the German epic is an adaptation of the Norse version;[416] by others, that the Scandinavians, not the Germans, borrowed the story; and by others still, that the epics, while proceeding from a common cradle, are of independent growth. The last theory is the most tenable.[417] Concerning the history of the Nibelungenlied, it has been maintained that since, during the twelfth century, when no poet would adopt any other poet's stanzaic form, the Austrian Von Kürenberg used the stanzaic form of the Nibelungenlied, the epic must be his.[418] It has also been urged that the poem, having been written down about 1140, was altered in metrical form by younger poets, until, in 1200 or thereabouts, it assumed the form preserved in the latest of the three great manuscripts.[419] But the theory advanced by Lachmann is still of great value: that the poem consists of a number of ancient ballads of various age and uneven worth; and that, about 1210, a collector, mending some of the ballads to suit himself, strung them together on a thread of his own invention. In fine, the materials of the poem would persuade us not only of its origin in very ancient popular lays, but of their fusion and improvement by the imaginative effort of at least one, and probably of several poets, who lived and wrote between 1120 and 1200 A.D. The metrical structure, also, would indicate derivation from the German folk song and modification due to multifarious handling on the part of popular minstrels and poets of written verse.[420] =302. Records of Oriental Mythology: Egyptian.=[421] Although the myths of Egypt, India, and Persia are of intense interest and importance, they have not materially affected English literature. The following is, however, a brief outline of the means by which some of them have been preserved. The Egyptian records are (1) _The Hieroglyphs_, or sacred inscriptions in Tombs of the Kings, and other solemn places,--conveying ideas by symbols, by phonetic signs, or by both; (2) _The Sacred Papyri_, containing hymns to the gods; (3) _The_ _Books of the Dead_ and of the _Lower Hemisphere_,--devoted to necromantic incantations, prayers for the souls of the departed, and other rituals. =303. Indian Records.= (1) _The Vedas_, or Holy Scriptures of the Hindus, which fall into four divisions. The most ancient, the Rig-Veda, consists of hymns of an elevated and spiritual character composed by families of Rishis, or psalmists, as far back, perhaps, as 3000 B.C., not later than 1400 B.C. They give us the religious conceptions of the Aryans when they crossed the Himalayas and began to push toward Southern Hindustan. The Sama-Veda is a book of solemn chants and tunes. The Yajur-Veda comprises prayers for sacrificial occasions, and interpretations of the same. The Atharva-Veda shows, as might be expected of the youngest of the series, the influence upon the purer Aryan creed of superstitions borrowed, perhaps, from the aboriginal tribes of India. It contains spells for exorcising demons and placating them. (2) _The Indian Epics_ of classical standing. They are the Mahâbhârata and the Râmâyana. Scholars differ as to the chronological precedence. The Great Feud of the Bhâratas has the air of superior antiquity because of the numerous hands and generations that have contributed to its composition. The Adventures of Râma, on the other hand, recalls a more primitive stage of credulity and of savage invention. The Mahâbhârata is a storehouse of mythical tradition. It contains several well-rounded epic poems, the most beautiful of which is the Episode of Nala,--a prince who, succumbing to a weakness common to his contemporaries, has gambled away his kingdom. The Great Feud of the Bhâratas is, indeed, assigned to an author--but his name, Vyâsa, means simply the Arranger. The Râmâyana purports to have been written by the poet Vâlmîki. It tells how Sita, the wife of Prince Râma, is carried off to Ceylon by Râvana, king of the demons, and how Râma, by the aid of an army of monkeys, bridges the straits between India and Ceylon and, slaying the demon, recovers his lovely and innocent wife. The resemblance between the plot and that of the Iliad has inclined some scholars to derive the Indian from the Greek epic. But, until the relative antiquity of the poems is established, the Iliad might as well be derived from the Râmâyana. The theory is unsubstantiated. These epics of India lack the artistic spirit and grace of the Iliad and the Odyssey, but they display a keener sympathy with nature and a more romantic appreciation of the loves and sorrows of mankind. =304. Persian Records.= _The Avesta_, or Sacred Book of the ancient Persians, composed in the Zend language and later translated into medieval Persian,--or Pahlavi,--contains the Gáthás, or hymns of Zoroaster and his contemporaries, and scriptures of as recent a date as the fifth century B.C. Zoroaster, a holy man of God, was the founder or the reformer of the Persian religion. He lived as early as the fourteenth or fifteenth century B.C., and his system became the dominant religion of Western Asia from the time of Cyrus (550 B.C.) to the conquest of Persia by Alexander the Great. The teachings of Zoroaster are characterized by beautiful simplicity, and by an unwavering faith in the ultimate victory of righteousness (Ormuzd) over evil (Ahriman). FOOTNOTES: [393] Odyssey 8, 250. [394] Cf. the experience of Sigurd. [395] Il Penseroso, II. 103-108. [396] _Faerie Queene_, 4, 11, 23. [397] See E. B. Clapp, Greek Morality and Religion as Set forth by Pindar (_Hibbert Journal_, 8, 283). [398] For other authorities and for a few standard translations of the Greek Classics, see Commentary, § 298. [399] With regard to translations of these and other Latin poets, see Commentary, § 299. [400] Based upon Lucian's Lucius or the Ass, and other Greek stories. [401] Translation in Walter Pater's Marius the Epicurean. [402] For literature, see Commentary. [403] Cleasby and Vigfusson's Icelandic-English Dictionary. [404] F. W. Horn's Geschichte d. Literatur d. Skandinavischen Nordens, 27-42. [405] Cleasby and Vigfusson's Dictionary; Lüning's Die Edda, 1859. [406] The Lay of Rig in Snorri's Edda; Vigfusson and Powell's Corpus Poeticum Boreale, 2, 514. [407] Jacob Grimm. [408] The Celtic _aideadh_: Professor Rhys, _Academy_, January 31, 1880. [409] Arne Magnússon, see Morley's English Writers, 2, 336, and Murray's New English Dictionary. [410] Corpus Poeticum Boreale, 1; xxvii, etc. [411] Corpus Poeticum Boreale, 1; lxxi; lxiii-lxiv. [412] For literature, see Commentary. [413] Paul's Grundriss d. Germanischen Philologie: Bd. 1, Lfg. 5, _Mythologie_. [414] Morris and Magnusson's The Story of the Volsungs and Nibelungs. Horn's Geschichte d. Literatur d. Skandinavischen Nordens, 27-42, 58, etc. [415] Werner Hahn, Das Nibelungenlied. [416] The Grimm Brothers; v. d. Hagen; Vilmar. [417] Werner Hahn; Jas. Sime, Encyc. Brit. _Nibelungenlied_. [418] Pfeiffer. [419] Bartsch, see Encyc. Brit. [420] Werner Hahn, 18, 58-60. [421] For translations of Oriental Myths, see Commentary. For mythical personages, see Index and Dictionary. COMMENTARY[422] [It is hoped that this Commentary may be useful to general readers, to students of art, and to teachers in the secondary schools, as well as to pupils. The cross references are always to sections; and the section numbers correspond with those of the text in the body of the book. The letter C. prefixed to a number indicates Commentary.] =3. Chaos=: a gap. Compare the "Beginning Gap" of Norse mythology. =Eros=: a yearning. =Erebus=: black, from root meaning _to cover_. =4. Uranus= (Greek _Ouranos_) corresponds with the name of the Indian divinity Varunas, root _var_, 'to cover.' Uranus is the starry vault that covers the earth; Varunas became the rain-giving sky. =Titan=: the honorable, powerful; the king; later, the signification was limited to the sun. =Oceanus= probably means _flood_. =Tethys=: the nourisher, nurse. =Hyperion=: the wanderer on high;[423] the sun. =Thea=: the beautiful, shining; the moon. She is called by Homer Euryphaëssa, the far-shining. =Iapetus=: the sender, hurler, wounder. =Themis=: that which is established, law. =Mnemosyne=: memory. Other Titans were C[oe]us and Ph[oe]be, figurative of the radiant lights of heaven; Creüs and Eurybië, mighty powers, probably of the sea; Ophion, the great serpent, and Eurynome, the far-ruling, who, according to Apollonius of Rhodes, held sway over the Titans until Cronus cast them into the Ocean, or into Tartarus. =Cronus= (Greek _Kronos_) is, as his name shows, the god of ripening, harvest, maturity. =Rhea= comes from Asia Minor, and was there worshiped as the Mother Earth, dwelling creative among the mountains. Cronus (_Kronos_) has been naturally, but wrongly, identified with Chronos, the personification of _Time_, which, as it brings all things to an end, devours its own offspring; and also with the Latin Saturn, who, as a god of agriculture and harvest, was represented with pruning-knife in hand, and regarded as the lord of an ancient golden age. The three =Cyclopes= were Brontes, Steropes, and Arges. Cyclops means the round-eyed. The =Hecatonchires= were Briareus, the strong, called also Ægæon; Cottus, the striker; Gyes, or Gyges, the vaulter, or crippler. Gyges is called by Horace (Carm. 2, 17, 14) Centimanus,--the hundred-handed. =_Illustrative._= Milton, in Paradise Lost, 10, 581, refers to the tradition of Ophion and Eurynome, who "had first the rule of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driven." =Hyperion=: see Shakespeare's Hamlet, "Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself." Also Henry V, IV, i; Troilus and Cressida, II, iii; Titus Andronicus, V, iii; Gray, Progress of Poesy, "Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war"; Spenser, Prothalamion, "Hot Titans beames." On =Oceanus=, Ben Jonson, Neptune's Triumph. On =Saturn=, see Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing, I, iii; 2 Henry IV, II, iv; Cymbeline, II, v; Titus Andronicus, II, iii; IV, iii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 1. 512, 519, 583, and Il Penseroso, 24. See Robert Buchanan, Cloudland, "One like a Titan cold," etc.; Keats, Hyperion; B. W. Procter, The Fall of Saturn. =_In Art._= Helios (Hyperion) rising from the sea: sculpture of eastern pediment of the frieze of the Parthenon (British Museum). Mnemosyne: D. G. Rossetti (crayons and oil). =5.= Homer makes Zeus (Jupiter) the oldest of the sons of Cronus; Hesiod makes him the youngest, in accordance with a widespread savage custom which makes the youngest child heir in chief.--LANG, Myth, Ritual, etc., 1, 297. According to other legends Zeus was born in Arcadia, or even in Epirus at Dodona, where was his sacred grove. He was in either case reared by the nymphs of the locality. According to Hesiod, Theog. 730, he was born in a cave of Mount Dicte, in Crete. =6. Atlas=, according to other accounts, was not doomed to support the heavens until after his encounter with Perseus. =8.= See Milton's Hymn on the Nativity, "Not =Typhon= huge ending in snaky twine." The monster is also called Typhoeus (Hesiod, Theog. 1137). The name means _to smoke_, _to burn_. The monster personifies fiery vapors proceeding from subterranean places. Other famous =Giants= were Mimas, Polybotes, Ephialtes, Rh[oe]tus, Clytius. See Preller, 1, 60. Briareus (really a Centimanus) is frequently ranked among the giants. =_Illustrative._= Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, I, ii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 1, 199, and Hymn on the Nativity, 226; M. Arnold, Empedocles, Act 2; Pope, Dunciad, 4, 66. For giants, in general, see Milton, Paradise Lost, 3, 464; 11. 642, 688; Samson Agonistes, 148. =10-15. Prometheus=: forethought.[424] =Epimetheus=: afterthought. According to Æschylus (Prometheus Bound) the doom of Zeus (Jupiter) was only contingent. If he should refuse to set Prometheus free and should, therefore, ignorant of the secret, wed Thetis, of whom it was known to Prometheus that her son should be greater than his father, then Zeus would be dethroned. If, however, Zeus himself delivered Prometheus, that Titan would reveal his secret and Zeus would escape both the marriage and its fateful result. The Prometheus Unbound of Æschylus is lost; but its name indicates that in the sequel the Titan is freed from his chains. And from hints in the Prometheus Bound we gather that this liberation was to come about in the way mentioned above, Prometheus warning Zeus to marry Thetis to Peleus (whose son, Achilles, proved greater than his father,--see =191=); or by the intervention of Hercules who was to be descended in the thirteenth generation from Zeus and Io (see =161= and =C. 149=); or by the voluntary sacrifice of the Centaur Chiron, who, when Zeus should hurl Prometheus and his rock into Hades, was destined to substitute himself for the Titan, and so by vicarious atonement to restore him to the life of the upper world. In Shelley's great drama of Prometheus Unbound, the Zeus of tyranny and ignorance and superstition is overthrown by Reason, the gift of Prometheus to mankind. =Sicyon= (or Mecone): a city of the Peloponnesus, near Corinth. _=Illustrative.=_ Milton, Paradise Lost, "More lovely than =Pandora= whom the gods endowed with all their gifts." Shakespeare, Titus Andronicus, II, i, 16. _=Poems.=_ D. G. Rossetti, Pandora; Longfellow, Masque of Pandora, Prometheus, and Epimetheus; Thos. Parnell, Hesiod, or the Rise of Woman. =Prometheus=, by Byron, Lowell, H. Coleridge, Robert Bridges; Prometheus Bound, by Mrs. Browning; translations of Æschylus, Prometheus Bound, Augusta Webster, E. H. Plumptre; Shelley, Prometheus Unbound; R. H. Horne, Prometheus, the Fire-bringer; E. Myers, The Judgment of Prometheus; George Cabot Lodge, Herakles, a drama. See Byron's Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte. =The Golden Age=: Chaucer, The Former Age (_Ætas Prima_); Milton, Hymn on the Nativity. _=In Art.=_ Ancient: Prometheus Unbound, vase picture (Monuments Inédits, Rome and Paris). Modern: Thorwaldsen's sculpture, Minerva and Prometheus. Pandora: Sichel (oil), Rossetti (crayons and oil), F. S. Church (water colors). =16. Dante= (_Durante_) =degli Alighieri= was born in Florence, 1265. Banished by his political opponents, 1302, he remained in exile until his death, which took place in Ravenna, 1321. His Vita Nuova (New Life), recounting his ideal love for Beatrice Portinari, was written between 1290 and 1300; his great poem, the Divina Commedia (the Divine Comedy) consisting of three parts,--Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso,--during the years of his exile. Of the Divine Comedy, says Lowell, "It is the real history of a brother man, of a tempted, purified, and at last triumphant human soul." =John Milton= (b. 1608) was carried by the stress of the civil war, 1641-1649, away from poetry, music, and the art which he had sedulously cultivated, into the stormy sea of politics and war. Perhaps the severity of his later sonnets and the sublimity of his Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, and Samson Agonistes are the fruit of the stern years of controversy through which he lived, not as a poet, but as a statesman and a pamphleteer. =Cervantes= (1547-1616), the author of the greatest of Spanish romances, Don Quixote. His life was full of adventure, privation, suffering, with but brief seasons of happiness and renown. He distinguished himself at the battle of Lepanto, 1571; but in 1575, being captured by Algerine cruisers, he remained five years in harsh captivity. After his return to Spain he was neglected by those in power. For full twenty years he struggled for his daily bread. Don Quixote was published in and after 1605. =Corybantes=: the priests of Cybele, whose festivals were violent, and whose worship consisted of dances and noise suggestive of battle. =18. Astræa= was placed among the stars as the constellation Virgo, the virgin. Her mother was Themis (Justice). Astræa holds aloft a pair of scales, in which she weighs the conflicting claims of parties. The old poets prophesied a return of these goddesses and of the Golden Age. See also Pope's Messiah,-- All crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud shall fail, Returning Justice lift aloft her scale: and Milton's Hymn on the Nativity, 14, 15. In Paradise Lost, 4, 998 _et seq._, is a different conception of the golden scales, "betwixt Astræa and the Scorpion sign." Emerson moralizes the myth in his Astræa. =19-20. _Illustrative._= B. W. Procter, The Flood of Thessaly. See Ovid's famous narrative of the Four Ages and the Flood, Metamorphoses, 1, 89-415. =Deucalion=: Bayard Taylor, Prince Deukalion; Milton, Paradise Lost, 11, 12. _=Interpretative.=_ This myth combines two stories of the origin of the Hellenes, or indigenous Greeks,--one, in accordance with which the Hellenes, as earthborn, claimed descent from Pyrrha (the red earth); the other and older, by which Deucalion was represented as the only survivor of the flood, but still the founder of the race (Greek laós), which he created by casting stones (Greek lâes) behind him. The myth, therefore, proceeds from an unintended pun. Although, finally, Pyrrha was by myth-makers made the wife of Deucalion, the older myth of the origin of the race from stones was preserved. See Max Müller, Sci. Relig., London, 1873, p. 64. =21.= For genealogy of the race of Inachus, Phoroneus, Pelasgus, and Io, see Table D. Pelasgus is frequently regarded as the grandson, not the son, of Phoroneus. For the descendants of Deucalion and Hellen, see Table I of this commentary. =22.= In the following genealogical table (A), the names of the great gods of Olympus are printed in heavy-face type. Latin forms of names or Latin substitutes are used. _=Illustrative.=_ On the =Gods of Greece=, see E. A. Bowring's translation of Schiller's Die Götter Griechenlands, and Bayard Taylor's Masque of the Gods. On =Olympus=, see Lewis Morris, The Epic of Hades. Allusions abound; _e.g._ Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, III, iii; Julius Cæsar, III, i; IV, iii; Hamlet, V, i; Milton, Paradise Lost, 1, 516; 7, 7; 10, 583; Pope, Rape of the Lock, 5, 48, and Windsor Forest, 33, 234; E. C. Stedman, News from Olympia. See also E. W. Gosse, Greece and England (On Viol and Flute). =23. The Olympian Gods.= There were, according to Mr. Gladstone (_No. Am._ _Rev._ April, 1892), about twenty Olympian deities:[425] (1) The five really great gods, Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Apollo, and Athene; (2) Hephæstus, Ares, Hermes, Iris, Leto, Artemis, Themis, Aphrodite, Dione, Pæëon (or Pæon), and Hebe,--also usually present among the assembled immortals; (3) Demeter, Persephone, Dionysus, and Thetis, whose claims are more or less obscured. According to the same authority, the =Distinctive Qualities of the Homeric Gods= were as follows: (1) they were immortal; (2) they were incorporated in human form; (3) they enjoyed power far exceeding that possessed by mortals; (4) they were, however (with the possible exception of Athene, who is never ignorant, never deceived, never baffled), all liable to certain limitations of energy and knowledge; (5) they were subject also to corporeal wants and to human affections. The =Olympian= =Religion=, as a whole, was more careful of nations, states, public affairs, than of individuals and individual character; and in this respect, according to Mr. Gladstone. it differs from Christianity. He holds, however, that despite the occasional immoralities of the gods, their general government not only "makes for righteousness," but is addressed to the end of rendering it triumphant. Says Zeus, for instance, in the Olympian assembly, "Men complain of us the gods, and say that we are the source from whence ills proceed; but they likewise themselves suffer woes outside the course of destiny, through their own perverse offending." But, beside this general effort for the triumph of right, there is little to be said in abatement of the general proposition that, whatever be their collective conduct, the common speech of the gods is below the human level in point of morality.[426] =24-25. Zeus.= In Sanskrit _Dyaus_, in Latin _Jovis_, in German _Tiu_. The same name for the Almighty (the Light or Sky) used probably thousands of years before Homer, or the Sanskrit Bible (the Vedas). It is not merely the blue sky, nor the sky personified,--not merely worship of a natural phenomenon, but of the Father who is in Heaven. So in the Vedas we find _Dyaus pitar_, in the Greek _Zeu_ _pater_, in Latin _Jupiter_ all meaning _father of light_.--MAX MÜLLER, Sci. Relig. 171, 172. =Oracle=: the word signifies also the answers given at the shrine. _=Illustrative.=_ Allusions to Jove on every other page of Milton, Dryden, Pope, Prior, Gray, and any poet of the Elizabethan and Augustan periods. On the =Love Affairs of Jupiter= and the other gods, see Milton, Paradise Regained, 2, 182. =Dodona=: Tennyson's Talking Oak: That Thessalian growth, On which the swarthy ringdove sat, And mystic sentence spoke.... Poem: Lewis Morris, Zeus, in The Epic of Hades. _=In Art.=_ Beside the representations of Jupiter noted in the text may be mentioned that on the eastern frieze of the Parthenon; the Jupiter Otricoli in the Vatican; also the Jupiter and Juno (painting) by Annibale Carracci; the Jupiter (sculpture) by Benvenuto Cellini. TABLE A. THE GREAT GODS OF OLYMPUS Uranus =Gæa +-- Cronus | =Rhea | +-- =Vesta= | +-- Ceres | +-- =Juno= | | +=Jupiter= | | +-- Hebe | | +-- =Mars= | | +-- =Vulcan= | +-- Pluto | +-- Neptune | +-- =Jupiter= | +-- Minerva | ==Juno= | +-- Hebe (see above) | +-- =Mars= (see above) | +-- =Vulcan= (see above) | =Latona | +-- =Apollo= | +-- =Diana= | =Dione | +-- =Venus= | =Maia | +-- =Mercury= | =Ceres | +-- Proserpina | =Semele | +-- Bacchus | =Alcmene | +-- Hercules +-- Rhea | =Cronus | +-- Vesta (see above) | +-- Ceres (see above) | +-- Juno (see above) | +-- Pluto (see above) | +-- Neptune (see above) | +-- Jupiter (see above) +-- C[oe]us | =Ph[oe]be | +-- Latona | =Jupiter | +-- Apollo (see above) | +-- Diana (see above) +-- Ph[oe]be | =C[oe]us | +-- Latona (see above) +-- Iapetus +-- Epimethius | +-- Dione | =Jupiter | +-- Venus (see above) +-- Prometheus +-- Atlas +-- Maia =Jupiter +-- Mercury (see above) =26. Juno= was called by the Romans Juno Lucina, the special goddess of childbirth. In her honor wives held the festival of the Matronalia on the first of March of each year. The Latin =Juno= is for _Diou-n-on_, from the stem _Diove_, and is the feminine parallel of Jovis, just as the Greek Dione (one of the loves of Zeus) is the feminine of Zeus. These names (and Diana, too) come from the root _div_, 'to shine,' 'to illumine.' There are many points of resemblance between the Italian Juno and the Greek Dione (identified with Hera, as Hera-Dione). Both are goddesses of the moon (?), of women, of marriage; to both the cow (with moon-crescent horns) is sacred. See Roscher, 21, 576-579. But Overbeck insists that the loves of Zeus are deities of the earth: "The rains of heaven (Zeus) do not fall upon the moon." _=Illustrative.=_ W. S. Landor, Hymn of Terpander to Juno; Lewis Morris, Heré, in The Epic of Hades. =_In Art._= Of the statues of Juno the most celebrated was that made by Polyclitus for her temple between Argos and Mycenæ. It was of gold and ivory. See Paus. 2, 17, 4. The goddess was seated on a throne of magnificent proportions; she wore a crown upon which were figured the Graces and the Hours; in one hand she held a pomegranate, in the other a scepter surmounted by a cuckoo. Of the extant representations of Juno the most famous are the Argive Hera (Fig. 9 in the text), the torso in Vienna from Ephesus, the Hera of the Vatican at Rome, the bronze statuette in the Cabinet of Coins and Antiquities in Vienna, the Farnese bust in the National Museum in Naples, the Ludovisi bust in the villa of that name in Rome, the Pompeian wall painting of the marriage of Zeus and Hera (given by Baumeister, Denkmäler 1, 649; see also Roscher, 13, 2127), and the Juno of Lanuvium. =27. Athenë= (Athena) has some characteristics of the warlike kind in common with the Norse Valkyries, but she is altogether a more ideal conception. The best description of the goddess will be found in Homer's Iliad, 5, 730 _et seq._ The derivation of =Athene= is uncertain (Preller). Related, say some, to _æth[=e]r_, #aithêr#, the clear upper air; say others, to the word _anthos_, #anthos#, 'a flower'--virgin bloom; or (see Roscher, p. 684) to _ath[=e]r_, #athêr#, 'spear point.' Max Müller derives Athene from the root _ah_, which yields the Sanskrit Ahanâ and the Greek Daphne, the Dawn (?). Hence Athene is the Dawn-goddess; but she is also the goddess of wisdom, because "the goddess who caused people to wake was involuntarily conceived as the goddess who caused people to know" (Science of Language, 1, 548-551). This is poor philology. Epithets applied to Athene are the bright-eyed, the gray-eyed, the ægis-bearing, the unwearied daughter of Zeus. The festival of the =Panathenæa= was celebrated at Athens yearly in commemoration of the union of the Attic tribes. See =C. 176-181=. The name =Pallas= characterizes the goddess as the _brandisher_ of lightnings. Her Palladium--or sacred image--holds always high in air the brandished lance. =Minerva=, or =Menerva=, is connected with Latin _mens_, Greek _ménos_, Sanskrit _manas_, 'mind'; not with the Latin _mane_, 'morning.' The relation is not very plausible between the awakening of the day and the awakening of thought (Max Müller, Sci. Lang, 1, 552). For the meaning of the Gorgon, see Commentary on the myth of Perseus. _=Illustrative=_. Byron, Childe Harold, 4, 96, the eloquent passage beginning, Can tyrants but by tyrants conquer'd be, And Freedom find no champion and no child Such as Columbia saw arise when she Sprung forth a Pallas, arm'd and undefiled? Shakespeare, Tempest, IV, i; As You Like It, I, iii; Winter's Tale, IV, iii; Pericles, II, iii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 500; Comus, 701; Arcades, 23; Lewis Morris' Athene, in The Epic of Hades; Byron, Childe Harold, 2. 1-15, 87, 91; Ruskin's Lectures entitled "The Queen of the Air" (Athene); Thomas Woolner's Pallas Athene, in Tiresias. _=In Art.=_ The finest of the statues of this goddess was by Phidias, in the Parthenon, or temple of Athena, at Athens. The Athena of the Parthenon has disappeared; but there is good ground to believe that we have, in several extant statues and busts, the artist's conception. (See Frontispiece, the Lemnian Athena, and Fig. 53, the Hope Athena, ancient marble at Deepdene, Surrey.) The figure is characterized by grave and dignified beauty, and freedom from any transient expression; in other words, by repose. The most important copy extant is of the Roman period. The goddess was represented standing; in one hand a spear, in the other a statue of Victory. Her helmet, highly decorated, was surmounted by a Sphinx. The statue was forty feet in height, and, like the Jupiter, covered with ivory and gold. The eyes were of marble, and probably painted to represent the iris and pupil. The Parthenon, in which this statue stood, was also constructed under the direction and superintendence of Phidias. Its exterior was enriched with sculptures, many of them from the hand of the same artist. The Elgin Marbles now in the British Museum are a part of them. Also remarkable are the Minerva Bellica (Capitol, Rome); the Athena of the Acropolis Museum; the Athena of the Ægina Marbles (Glyptothek, Munich); the Minerva Medica (Vatican); the Athena of Velletri in the Louvre. (See Fig. 10.) In modern sculpture, especially excellent are Thorwaldsen's Minerva and Prometheus, and Cellini's Minerva (on the base of his Perseus). In modern painting, Tintoretto's Minerva defeating Mars. =28.= While the Latin god =Mars= corresponds with Ares, he has also not a few points of similarity with the Greek Ph[oe]bus; for both names, Mars and Ph[oe]bus, indicate the quality _shining_. In Rome, the Campus Martius (field of Mars) was sacred to this deity. Here military maneuvers and athletic contests took place; here Mars was adored by sacrifice, and here stood his temple, where his priests, the Salii, watched over the sacred spear and the shield, _Ancile_, that fell from heaven in the reign of Numa Pompilius. Generals supplicated Mars for victory, and dedicated to him the spoils of war. See Roscher, pp. 478, 486, on the fundamental significance, philosophical and physical, of _Ares_. On the derivation of the Latin name _Mars_, see Roscher (end of article on Apollo). _=Illustrative in Art.=_ Of archaic figures, that upon the so-called François Vase in Florence represents =Ares= bearded and with the armor of a Homeric warrior. In the art of the second half of the fifth century B.C., he is represented as beardless, standing with spear and helmet and, generally, _chlamys_ (short warrior's cloak); so the marble Ares statue (called the Borghese Achilles) in the Louvre. There is a later type (preferred in Rome) of the god in Corinthian helmet pushed back from the forehead, the right hand leaning on a spear, in the left a sword with point upturned, over the left arm a _chlamys_. The finest representation of the deity extant is the _Ares Ludovisi_ in Rome, probably of the second half of the fourth century B.C.,--a sitting figure, beautiful in form and feature, with an Eros playing at his feet. (See Fig. 11.) Modern sculpture: Thorwaldsen's relief, Mars and Cupid. Modern painting, Raphael's Mars (text, Fig. 12). =29.= On the derivation of =Hephæstus=, see Roscher, p. 2037. From Greek _aph[=e]_, 'to kindle,' or _pha_, 'to shine,' or _spha_, 'to burn.' The Latin =Vulcan=, while a god of fire, is not represented by the Romans as possessed of technical skill. It is said that Romulus built him a temple in Rome and instituted the Vulcanalia,--a festival in honor of the god. The name _Vulcanus_, or _Volcanus_, is popularly connected with the Latin _fulgere_, 'to flash' or 'lighten,' _fulgur_ a 'flash of lightning,' etc. It is quite natural that, in many legends, fire should play an active part in the creation of man. The primitive belief of the Indo-Germanic race was that the fire-god, descending to earth, became the first man; and that, therefore, the spirit of man was composed of fire. Vulcan is also called by the Romans Mulciber, from _mulceo_, 'to soften.' _=Illustrative.=_ Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, V, i; Much Ado About Nothing, I, i; Troilus and Cressida, I, iii; Hamlet, III, ii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 1, 740: From morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star, On Lemnos, the Ægean isle. _=In Art.=_ Various antique illustrations are extant of the god as a smith with hammer, or at the forge (text, Fig. 13); one of him working with the Cyclopes; a vase painting of him adorning Pandora; one of him assisting at the birth of Minerva; and one of his return to Olympus led by Bacchus and Comus. Of modern paintings the following are noteworthy: J. A. Wiertz, Forge of Vulcan; Velasquez, Forge of Vulcan (Museum, Madrid) (text, Fig. 56); the Forge of Vulcan by Tintoretto. Thorwaldsen's piece of statuary, Vulcan forging Arrows for Cupid, is justly famous. =30. Castalia=: on the slopes of Parnassus, sacred to Apollo and the Muses. =Cephissus=: in Phocis and B[oe]otia. (Another Cephissus flows near Athens.) _=Interpretative.=_ The birth, wanderings, return of =Apollo=, and his struggle with the Python, etc., are explained by many scholars as symbolic of the annual course of the sun. Apollo is born of Leto, who is, according to hypothesis, the Night from which the morning sun issues. His conflict with the dragon reminds one of Siegfried's combat and that of St. George, The =dragon= is variously interpreted as symbolical of darkness, mephitic vapors, or the forces of winter, which are overcome by the rays of the springtide sun. The dragon is called Delphyne, or Python. The latter name may be derived simply from that part of Phocis (Pytho) where the town of Delphi was situate, or that again from the Greek root _p[=u]th_, 'to rot,' because there the serpent was left by Apollo to decay; or from the Greek _p[)u]th_, 'to inquire,' with reference to the consultation of the Delphian or Pythian oracle. "It is open to students to regard the =dolphin= as only one of the many animals whose earlier worship is concentrated in Apollo, or to take the creature for the symbol of spring when seafaring becomes easier to mortals, or to interpret the dolphin as the result of a _volks-etymologie_ (popular derivation), in which the name _Delphi_ (meaning originally a hollow in the hills) was connected with _delphis_, the dolphin."--LANG, Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 197. Apollo is also called =Lycius=, which means, not the wolf-slayer, as is sometimes stated, for the wolf is sacred to Apollo, but either the wolf-god (as inheriting an earlier wolf-cult) or the golden god of Light. See Preller and Roscher. This derivation is more probable than that from _Lycia_ in Asia Minor, where the god was said originally to have been worshiped. To explain certain rational myths of Apollo as referring to the annual and diurnal journeys of the sun is justifiable. To explain the savage and senseless survivals of the Apollo-myth in that way is impossible. =Festivals.= The most important were as follows: (1) The =Delphinia=, in May, to celebrate the genial influence of the young sun upon the waters, in opening navigation, in restoring warmth and life to the creatures of the wave, especially to the dolphins, which were highly esteemed by the superstitious seafarers, fishermen, merchants, etc. (2) The =Thargelia=, in the Greek month of that name, our May, which heralded the approach of the hot season. The purpose of this festival was twofold: to propitiate the deity of the sun and forfend the sickness of summer; to celebrate the ripening of vegetation and return thanks for first-fruits. These festivals were held in Athens, Delos, and elsewhere. (3) The =Hyacinthian= fast and feast of Sparta, corresponding in both features to the Thargelian. It was held in July, in the oppressive days of the Dog Star, Sirius. (4) The =Carnean= of Sparta, celebrated in August. It added to the propitiatory features of the Hyacinthian, a thanksgiving for the vintage. (5) Another vintage-festival was the =Pyanepsian=, in Athens. (6) The =Daphnephoria=: "Familiar to many English people from Sir Frederick Leighton's picture. This feast is believed to have symbolized the year.... An olive branch supported a central ball of brass, beneath which was a smaller ball, and thence little globes were hung." "The greater ball means the sun, the smaller the moon, the tiny globes the stars, and the three hundred and sixty-five laurel garlands used in the feast are understood to symbolize the days." (_Proclus and Pausanias._)--LANG, Myth, Ritual, etc., 2. 194, 195. Apollo is also called the =Sminthian=, or Mouse-god, because he was regarded either as the protector or as the destroyer of mice. In the Troad mice were fed in his temple; elsewhere he was honored as freeing the country from them. As Mr. Lang says (Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 201), this is intelligible "if the vermin which had once been sacred became a pest in the eyes of later generations." =Oracle of Delphi.= It had been observed at a very early period that the goats feeding on Parnassus were thrown into convulsions when they approached a certain long deep cleft in the side of the mountain. This was owing to a peculiar vapor arising out of the cavern, and a certain goatherd is said to have tried its effects upon himself. Inhaling the intoxicating air, he was affected in the same manner as the cattle had been; and the inhabitants of the surrounding country, unable to explain the circumstance, imputed the convulsive ravings to which he gave utterance while under the power of the exhalations to a divine inspiration. The fact was speedily spread abroad, and a temple was erected on the spot. The prophetic influence was at first variously attributed to the goddess Earth, to Neptune, Themis, and others, but it was at length assigned to Apollo, and to him alone. A priestess was appointed whose office it was to inhale the hallowed air, and she was named the Pythia. She was prepared for this duty by previous ablution at the fountain of Castalia, and being crowned with laurel was seated upon a tripod similarly adorned, which was placed over the chasm whence the divine afflatus proceeded. Her inspired words while thus situated were interpreted by the priests. Other famous oracles were that of =Trophonius= in B[oe]otia and that of the Egyptian =Apis=. Since those who descended into the cave at Lebadea to consult the oracle of Trophonius were noticed to return dejected and melancholy, the proverb arose which was applied to a low-spirited person, "He has been consulting the oracle of Trophonius." At Memphis the sacred bull Apis gave answer to those who consulted him, by the manner in which he received or rejected what was presented to him. If the bull refused food from the hand of the inquirer, it was considered an unfavorable sign, and the contrary when he received it. It used to be questioned whether oracular responses ought to be ascribed to mere human contrivance or to the agency of evil spirits. The latter opinion would of course obtain during ages of superstition, when evil spirits were credited with an influence over human affairs. A third theory has been advanced since the phenomena of mesmerism have attracted attention: that something like the mesmeric trance was induced in the Pythoness, and the faculty of clairvoyance called into action. Scholars have also sought to determine when the pagan oracles ceased to give responses. Ancient Christian writers assert that they became silent at the birth of Christ, and were heard no more after that date; Milton adopts this view in his Hymn on the Nativity, and in lines of solemn and elevated beauty pictures the consternation of the heathen idols at the advent of the Saviour: The Oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the archèd roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathèd spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. _=Illustrative.=_ Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 2, 2; 1, 2, 29; 1, 11, 31; 1, 12, 2. Sir Philip Sidney, Astrophel and Stella; as, for instance, the pretty conceit beginning Ph[oe]bus was judge between Jove, Mars, and Love, Of those three gods, whose arms the fairest were. Dekker, The Sun's Darling; Burns (as in the Winter Night) and other Scotch song-writers find it hard to keep Ph[oe]bus out of their verses; Spenser, Epithalamion; Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, II, i (Apollo and Daphne); Cymbeline (Cloten's Serenade); Love's Labour's Lost, IV, iii; Taming of the Shrew, Induction ii; Winter's Tale, II, i; III, i; III, ii; Titus Andronicus, IV, i; Drayton, Song 8; Tickell, To Apollo making Love; Swift, Apollo Outwitted; Pope, Essay on Criticism, 34; Dunciad, 4, 116; Prologue to Satires, 231; Miscellaneous, 7, 16; Armstrong, The Art of Preserving Health. _=Poems.=_ Drummond of Hawthornden, Song to Ph[oe]bus; Keats, Hymn to Apollo; A. Mary F. Robinson, A Search for Apollo, and In Apollo's Garden; Shelley, Homer's Hymn to Apollo; Aubrey De Vere, Lines under Delphi; Lewis Morris, Apollo, in The Epic of Hades; R. W. Dixon, Apollo Pythius. =The Python.= Milton, Paradise Lost, 10, 531; Shelley, Adonais. =Oracles.= Milton, Paradise Lost, 1. 12, 515; 5, 382; 10, 182; Paradise Regained, 1. 395, 430, 456, 463; 3, 13; 4, 275; Hymn on the Nativity, 173. In Cowper's poem of Yardley Oak there are mythological allusions appropriate to this subject. On Dodona, Byron, Childe Harold, 2, 53; Tennyson, The Talking Oak. Byron alludes to the oracle of Delphi when speaking of Rousseau, whose writings he conceives did much to bring on the French Revolution: Childe Harold, 3, 81,-- For then he was inspired, and from him came, As from the Pythian's mystic cave of yore, Those oracles which set the world in flame, Nor ceased to burn till kingdoms were no more. _=In Art.=_ One of the most esteemed of all the remains of ancient sculpture is the statue of Apollo, called the Belvedere from the name of the apartment of the Pope's palace at Rome in which it is placed (see Fig. 15). The artist is unknown. It is conceded to be a work of Roman art, of about the first century of our era (and follows a type fashioned by a Greek sculptor of the Hellenistic period, probably in bronze). A variation of the type has been discovered in a bronze statuette which represents Apollo holding in the left hand an ægis. Some scholars have therefore surmised that the Apollo of the original was similarly equipped. The Belvedere Apollo, however, is a standing figure, in marble, more than seven feet high, naked except for the cloak which is fastened around the neck and hangs over the extended left arm. It is restored to represent the god in the moment when he has shot the arrow to destroy the monster Python. The victorious divinity is in the act of stepping forward. The left arm which seems to have held the bow is outstretched, and the head is turned in the same direction. In attitude and proportion the graceful majesty of the figure is unsurpassed. The effect is completed by the countenance, where, on the perfection of youthful godlike beauty, there dwells the consciousness of triumphant power. To this statue Byron alludes in Childe Harold, 4, 161: Or view the Lord of the unerring bow, The God of life, and poetry, and light,-- The Sun, in human limbs arrayed, and brow All radiant from his triumph in the fight; The shaft hath just been shot--the arrow bright With an immortal's vengeance; in his eye And nostril, beautiful disdain, and might And majesty flash their full lightnings by, Developing in that one glance the Deity. The standing figure in our text reproduces this conception.[427] Also famous in sculpture are the "Adonis" Apollo of the Vatican (Fig. 14, text); the Greek bronze from Thessaly (Fig. 16, text); the Palatine Apollo in the Vatican (Fig. 66, text); the Apollo Cithar[oe]dus of the National Museum, Naples, and the Glyptothek, Munich; the Lycian Apollo; the Apollo Nomios; Apollo of Thera; the Apollo of Michelangelo (National Museum, Florence). A painting of romantic interest is Paolo Veronese's St. Christina refusing to adore Apollo. Of symbolic import is the Apollo (Sunday) by Raphael in the Vatican. Ph[oe]bus and Boreas by J. F. Millet. =32. Latona.= A theory of the numerous =love-affairs= of Jupiter is given in =24= of the text. =Delos= is the central island of the Cyclades group in the Ægean. With its temple of Apollo it was exceedingly prosperous. _=Interpretative.=_ Latona (Leto), according to ancient interpreters, was night,--the shadow, therefore, of Juno (Hera), if Hera be the splendor of heaven. But the early myth-makers would hardly have reasoned so abstrusely. It is not at all certain that the name _Leto_ means darkness (Preller 1, 190, note 4); and even if light is born of or after darkness, the sun (Apollo) and the moon (Artemis, or Diana) can hardly be considered to be twins of Darkness (Leto), for they do not illuminate the heavens at the same time.--LANG, Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 199. _=Illustrative.=_ Byron's allusion to Delos in Don Juan, 3, 86: The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Ph[oe]bus sprung! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. See Milton's Sonnet, "I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs," for allusion to Latona. _=In Art.=_ In the shrine of Latona in Delos there was, in the days of Athenæus, a shapeless wooden idol. =Diana.= The Latin =Diana= means either "goddess of the bright heaven," or "goddess of the bright day." She is frequently identified with Artemis, Hecate, Luna, and Selene. According to one tradition, Apollo and Diana were born at =Ortygia=, near Ephesus. =Diana of the Ephesians=, referred to (Acts xix, 28), was a goddess of not at all the maidenly characteristics that belonged to the Greek Artemis (Roscher, p. 591; A. Lang, 2, 217). Other titles of Artemis are Munychia, the moon-goddess; Calliste, the _fair_, or the _she-bear_; Orthia, the _severe_, worshiped among the Taurians with human sacrifices; Agrotera, the _huntress_; Pythia; Eileithyia, goddess of childbirth; Cynthia, born on Mount Cynthus. _=Illustrative.=_ Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 7, 5; 1, 12, 7; Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, V, i, "Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn," etc.; Twelfth Night, I, iv; Midsummer Night's Dream, I, iv; All's Well that Ends Well, I, iii; IV, ii; IV, iv; Butler, Hudibras, 3, 2, 1448. _=Poems=_: B. W. Procter, The Worship of Dian; W. W. Story, Artemis; E. W. Gosse, The Praise of Artemis; E. Arnold, Hymn of the Priestess of Diana; Wordsworth, To Lycoris; Lewis Morris, Artemis, in The Epic of Hades; A. Lang, To Artemis. =Ph[oe]be= (Diana): Spenser, Epithalamion; Keats, To Psyche. =Cynthia= (Diana): Spenser, Prothalamion, Epithalamion; Milton, Hymn on the Nativity; H. K. White, Ode to Contemplation. _=In Art.=_ In art the goddess is represented high-girt for the chase, either in the act of drawing an arrow from her quiver or watching her missile in its flight. She is often attended by the hind. Sometimes, as moon-goddess, she bears a torch. Occasionally she is clad in a _chiton_, or robe of many folds, flowing to her feet. The Diana of the Hind (_à la Biche_), in the Palace of the Louvre (see Fig. 18), may be considered the counterpart of the Apollo Belvedere. The attitude much resembles that of Apollo, the sizes correspond and also the styles of execution. The Diana of the Hind is a work of a high order, though by no means equal to the Apollo. The attitude is that of hurried and eager motion, the face that of a huntress in the excitement of the chase. The left hand of the goddess is extended over the forehead of the hind which runs by her side, the right arm reaches backward over the shoulder to draw an arrow from the quiver. Fig. 19 in the text is the Artemis Knagia (Diana Cnagia), named after Cnageus, a servant of Diana who assisted in transferring the statue from Crete to Sparta. In Dresden there is a statue of Artemis in the style of Praxiteles (Fig. 68, text); and in the Louvre an ancient marble called the Artemis of Gabii (Fig. 77, text). In modern painting, noteworthy are the Diana and her Nymphs of Rubens; Correggio's Diana (Fig. 17); Jules Lefebvre's Diana and her Nymphs; Domenichino's Diana's Chase. Note also the allegorical Luna (Monday) of Raphael in the Vatican; and D. G. Rossetti's Diana, in crayons. =34. _Interpretative._= The worship of =Aphrodite= was probably of Semitic origin, but was early introduced into Greece. The Aphrodite of Hesiod and Homer displays both Oriental and Grecian characteristics. All Semitic nations, except the Hebrews, worshiped a supreme goddess who presided over the moon (or the Star of Love), and over all animal and vegetable life and growth. She was the Istar of the Assyrians, the Astarte of the Ph[oe]nicians, and is the analogue of the Greek Aphrodite and the Latin Venus. See Roscher, p. 390, etc. The native Greek deity of love would appear to have been, however, =Dione=, goddess of the moist and productive soil (=C. 26=), who passes in the Iliad (5. 370, 428) as the mother of Aphrodite, is worshiped at Dodona by the side of Zeus, and is regarded by Euripides as _Thyone_, mother of Dionysus (Preller I, 259). The epithets and names most frequently applied to Aphrodite are the Paphian, Cypris (the Cyprus-born), Cytherea, Erycina (from Mount Eryx), Pandemos (goddess of vulgar love), Pelagia (Aphrodite of the sea), Urania (Aphrodite of ideal love), Anadyomene (rising from the water); she is, also, the sweetly smiling, laughter-loving, bright, golden, fruitful, winsome, flower-faced, blushing, swift-eyed, golden-crowned. She had temples and groves in Paphos, Abydos, Samos, Ephesus, Cyprus, Cythera, in some of which--for instance, Paphos--gorgeous annual festivals were held. See Childe Harold, I, 66. =Venus= was a deity of extreme antiquity among the Romans, but not of great importance until she had acquired certain attributes of the Eastern Aphrodite. She was worshiped as goddess of love, as presiding over marriage, as the goddess who turns the hearts of men, and, later, even as a goddess of victory. A festival in her honor, called the Veneralia, was held in Rome in April. =_Illustrative._= See Chaucer's Knight's Tale for frequent references to the goddess of love; also the Court of Love; Spenser's Prothalamion, and Epithalamion, "Handmaids of the Cyprian queen"; Shakespeare, Tempest, IV, i; Merchant of Venice, II, vi; Troilus and Cressida, IV, v; Cymbeline, V, v; Romeo and Juliet, II, i; Milton, L'Allegro; Paradise Regained, 2, 214; Comus, 124; Pope, Rape of the Lock 4, 135; Spring, 65; Summer, 61; Thomas Woolner, Pygmalion (Cytherea). =_Poems._= Certain parts of Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis and occasional stanzas in Swinburne's volume, Laus Veneris, may be adapted to illustrative purposes. Chaucer, The Complaint of Mars and Venus; Thomas Wyatt, The Lover prayeth Venus to conduct him to the Desired Haven. See the melodious chorus to Aphrodite in Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon; Lewis Morris, Aphrodite, in The Epic of Hades; Thomas Gordon Hake, The Birth of Venus, in New Symbols; D. G. Rossetti, Sonnets; Venus Verticordia, Venus Victrix. =35. _In Art._= One of the most famous of ancient paintings was the Venus rising from the foam, of Apelles. The Venus found (1820) in the island of Melos, or of Milo (see text, opp. p. 32), now to be seen in the Louvre in Paris, is the work of some sculptor of about the fourth century B.C. Some say that the left hand uplifted held a mirrorlike shield; others, an apple; still others, a trident; and that the goddess was Amphitrite. A masterpiece of Praxiteles was the Venus of Cnidos, based upon which are the Venus of the Capitoline in Rome and the Venus de' Medici in Florence. Also the Venus of the Vatican, which is, in my opinion, superior to both. The Venus of the Medici was in the possession of the princes of that name in Rome when, about two hundred years ago, it first attracted attention. An inscription on the base assigns it to Cleomenes, an Athenian sculptor of 200 B.C., but the authenticity of the inscription is doubtful. There is a story that the artist was employed by public authority to make a statue exhibiting the perfection of female beauty, and that to aid him in his task the most perfect forms the city could supply were furnished him for models. Note Thomson's allusion in the Summer: So stands the statue that enchants the world; So bending tries to veil the matchless boast, The mingled beauties of exulting Greece. And Byron's There too the goddess loves in stone, and fills The air around with beauty.--Childe Harold, 4, 49-53. One of the most beautiful of the Greek Aphrodites is the Petworth (opp. p. 126, text). Of modern paintings the most famous are: the Sleeping Venus and other representations of Venus by Titian; the Birth of Venus by Bouguereau; Tintoretto's Cupid, Venus, and Vulcan; Veronese's Venus with Satyr and Cupid. Modern sculpture: Thorwaldsen's Venus with the Apple; Venus and Cupid; Cellini's Venus; Canova's Venus Victrix, and the Venus in the Pitti Gallery; Rossetti's Venus Verticordia (crayons, water colors, oil). =36. _Interpretative._= Max Müller traces =Hermes=, child of the Dawn with its fresh breezes, herald of the gods, spy of the night, to the Vedic Saramâ, goddess of the Dawn. Others translate Saramâ, _storm_. Roscher derives from the same root as Sarameyas (son of Saramâ), with the meaning _Hastener_, the _swift wind_. The invention of the syrinx is attributed also to Pan. =_Illustrative._= To Mercury's construction of the lyre out of a tortoise shell, Gray refers (Progress of Poesy), "Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, Enchanting shell!" etc. See Shakespeare, King John, IV, ii; Henry IV, IV, i; Richard III, II, i; IV, iii; Hamlet, III, iv; Milton, Paradise Lost, 3, "Though by their powerful art they bind Volatile Hermes"; 4, 717; 11, 133; Il Penseroso, 88; Comus, 637, 962. =_Poems_=: Sir T. Martin, Goethe's Ph[oe]bus and Hermes; Shelley's translation of Homer's Hymn to Mercury. =_In Art._= The Mercury in the Central Museum, Athens; Mercury Belvedere (Vatican); Mercury in Repose (National Museum, Naples). The Hermes by Praxiteles, in Olympia (text, opp. p. 150), and the Hermes Psychopompos leading to the underworld the spirit of a woman who has just died (text, Fig. 20; from a relief sculptured on the tomb of Myrrhina), are especially fine specimens of ancient sculpture. In modern sculpture: Cellini's Mercury (base of Perseus, Loggia del Lanzi, Florence); Giov. di Bologna's Flying Mercury (bronze, Bargello, Florence: text, opp. p. 330); Thorwaldsen's Mercury. In modern painting: Tintoretto's Mercury and the Graces; Francesco Albani's Mercury and Apollo; Claude Lorrain's Mercury and Battus; Turner's Mercury and Argus; Raphael's allegorical Mercury (Wednesday), Vatican, Rome; and his Mercury with Psyche (Farnese Frescoes). =37. _Interpretative._= The name =Hestia= (Latin _Vesta_) has been variously derived from roots meaning _to sit_, _to stand_, _to burn_. The two former are consistent with the domestic nature of the goddess; the latter with her relation to the hearth-fire. She is "first of the goddesses," the holy, the chaste, the sacred. =_Illustrative._= Milton, Il Penseroso (Melancholy), "_Thee_ bright-haired Vesta long of yore To solitary Saturn bore," etc. =38.= (1) =Cupid= (Eros). References and allusions to Cupid throng our poetry. Only a few are here given. Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, I, iv; Merchant of Venice, II, vi; Merry Wives, II, ii; Much Ado About Nothing, I, i; II, i; III, ii; Midsummer Night's Dream, I, i; II, ii; IV, i; Cymbeline, II, iv; Milton, Comus, 445, 1004; Herrick, The Cheat of Cupid; Pope, Rape of the Lock, 5, 102; Dunciad, 4, 308; Moral Essays, 4, 111; Windsor Forest,--on Lord Surrey, "In the same shades the Cupids tuned his lyre To the same notes of love and soft desire." =_Poems._= Chaucer, The Cuckow and Nightingale, or Boke of Cupid (?); Occleve, The Letter of Cupid; Beaumont and Fletcher, Cupid's Revenge, and the Masque, A Wife for a Month; J.G. Saxe, Death and Cupid, on their exchange of arrows, "And that explains the reason why Despite the gods above, The young are often doomed to die, The old to fall in love"; Thomas Ashe, The Lost Eros; Coventry Patmore, The Unknown Eros. Also John Lyly's Campaspe: Cupid and my Campaspe playd, At cardes for kisses, Cupid payd; He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, His mother's doves, and teeme of sparows; Looses them too; then, downe he throwes The corrall of his lippe, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the cristall of his brow, And then the dimple of his chinne: All these did my Campaspe winne. At last hee set her both his eyes; Shee won, and Cupid blind did rise. O love! has shee done this to thee? What shall (alas!) become of mee? See also Lang's translation of Moschus, Idyl I, and O. Wilde, The Garden of Eros. =_In Art._= Antique sculpture: the Eros in Naples, ancient marble from an original perhaps by Praxiteles (text, Fig. 21); Eros bending the Bow, in the Museum at Berlin; Cupid bending his Bow (Vatican); Eros with his Bow, in the Capitoline (text, opp. p. 136). Modern sculpture: Thorwaldsen's Mars and Cupid. Modern paintings: Bouguereau's Cupid and a Butterfly; Raphael's Cupids (among drawings in the Museum at Venice); Burne-Jones' Cupid (in series with Pyramus and Thisbe); Raphael Mengs' Cupid sharpening his Arrow; Guido Reni's Cupid; Van Dyck's Sleeping Cupid. See also under _Psyche_, =C. 101=. =Hymen.= See Sir Theodore Martin's translations of the _Collis O Heliconii_, and the _Vesper adest, juvenes_, of Catullus (LXI and LXII); Milton, Paradise Lost, 11, 591; L'Allegro, 125; Pope, Chorus of Youths and Virgins. (2) =Hebe.= Thomas Lodge's Sonnet to Phyllis, "Fair art thou, Phyllis, ay, so fair, sweet maid"; Milton, Vacation Exercise, 38; Comus, 290; L'Allegro, 29; Spenser, Epithalamion. =_Poems_=: T. Moore, The Fall of Hebe; J. R. Lowell, Hebe. =_In Art_=: Ary Scheffer's painting of Hebe; N. Schiavoni's painting. =Ganymede.= Chaucer, Hous of Fame, 81; Tennyson, in the Palace of Art, "Or else flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh Half-buried in the Eagle's down," etc.; Shelley in the Prometheus (Jove's order to Ganymede); Milton, Paradise Regained, 2,353; Drayton, Song 4, "The birds of Ganymed." =_Poems_=: Lord Lytton, Ganymede; Bowring, Goethe's Ganymede; Roden Noël, Ganymede; Edith M. Thomas, Homesickness of Ganymede; S. Margaret Fuller, Ganymede to his Eagle; Drummond on Ganymede's lament, "When eagle's talons bare him through the air." =_In Art_=: The Rape of Ganymede, marble in the Vatican, probably from the original in bronze by Leochares (text, Fig. 22). Græco-Roman sculpture: Ganymede and the Eagle (National Museum, Naples). Modern sculpture: Thorwaldsen's Ganymede. (3) =The Graces.= Rogers, Inscription for a Temple; Matthew Arnold, Euphrosyne. These goddesses are continually referred to in poetry. Note the painting by J. B. Regnault (Louvre), also the sculpture by Canova. (4) =The Muses.= Spenser, The Tears of the Muses; Milton, Il Penseroso; Byron, Childe Harold, 1, 1, 62, 88; Thomson, Castle of Indolence, 2, 2; 2, 8; Akenside, Pleasures of Imagination, 3. 280, 327; Ode on Lyric Poetry; Crabbe, The Village, Bk. 1; Introductions to the Parish Register, Newspaper, Birth of Flattery; M. Arnold, Urania. =Delphi=, =Parnassus=, etc.: Gray, Progress of Poesy, 2, 3. =Vale of= =Tempe=: Keats, On a Grecian Urn; Young, Ocean, an ode. =_In Art._= Sculpture: Polyhymnia, ancient marble in Berlin (text, Fig. 23); Clio and Calliope, in the Vatican in Rome; Euterpe, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, and Urania, in the Louvre, Paris; Terpsichore by Thorwaldsen. Painting: Apollo and the Muses, by Raphael Mengs and by Giulio Romano; Terpsichore (picture), by Schützenberger. (5) =The Hours=, in art: Raphael's Six Hours of the Day and Night. (6) =The Fates.= Refrain stanzas in Lowell's Villa Franca, "Spin, spin, Clotho, spin! Lachesis, twist! and Atropos, sever!" =_In Art_=: The Fates, painting attributed to Michelangelo, but now by some to Rosso Fiorentino from Michelangelo's design (text, Fig. 24, Pitti Gallery, Florence); painting by Paul Thumann. (7) =Nemesis.= For genealogy see Table B, =C. 49=. (8) =Æsculapius.= Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 5, 36-43; Milton, Paradise Lost, 9, 507. (9) (10) =The Winds=, =Helios=, =Aurora=, =Hesper=, etc. =Æolus=: Chaucer, Hous of Fame, 480. See =C. 125= and genealogical tables H and I. =Hippotades= is Æolus (son of Hippotes). In Lycidas, 96, Milton calls the king of the winds Hippotades, because, following Homer (Odyssey, 10, 2) and Ovid (Metam. 14, 224), he identifies Æolus II with Æolus III. =Boreas and Orithyia=: Akenside, Pleasures of Imagination, 1, 722. =_In Art._= The fragment, Helios rising from the Sea, by Phidias, south end, east pediment of the Parthenon. Boreas and Zetos, Greek reliefs (text, Figs. 25 and 26); Boreas and Orithyia (text, Fig. 27), on a vase in Munich. (11) =Hesperus.= Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 605; 9, 49; Comus, 982; Akenside, Ode to Hesper; Campbell, Two Songs to the Evening Star, Tennyson, The Hesperides. (12) "=Iris= there with humid bow waters the odorous banks," etc., Comus, 992. See also Milton's Paradise Lost, 4, 698; 11, 244. =_In Art_=: Fig. 28, text; and painting by Guy Head (Gallery, St. Luke's, Rome). She is the swift-footed, wind-footed, fleet, the Iris of the golden wings, etc. =39. Hyperborean.= _Beyond the North_. Concerning the Elysian Plain, see =46.= =_Illustrative_=: Milton, Comus, "Now the gilded car of day," etc. =40. Ceres. _Illustrative._= Pope, Moral Essays, 4, 176, "Another age shall see the golden ear Imbrown the slope ... And laughing Ceres reassume the land"; Spring, 66; Summer, 66; Windsor Forest, 39; Gray, Progress of Poesy; Warton, First of April, "Fancy ... Sees Ceres grasp her crown of corn, And Plenty load her ample horn"; Spenser, Faerie Queene, 3, 1, 51; Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 268; 9, 395. =_Poems_.= Tennyson, Demeter and Persephone; Mrs. H. H. Jackson, Demeter. =_Prose_=: W. H. Pater, The Myth of Demeter (_Fortn. Rev._ Vol. 25, 1876); S. Colvin, A Greek Hymn (_Cornh. Mag._ Vol. 33, 1876); Swinburne, At Eleusis. The name _Ceres_ is from the stem _cer_, Sanskrit _kri_, 'to make.' By metonomy the word comes to signify _corn_ in the Latin. Demeter (#Gê mêtêr#, #da matêr#) means _Mother Earth_. The goddess is represented in art crowned with a wheat-measure (or _modius_), and bearing a horn of plenty filled with ears of corn. Demeter (?) appears in the group of deities on the eastern frieze of the Parthenon. Also noteworthy are the Demeter from Knidos (text, Fig. 29, from the marble in the British Museum); two statues of Ceres in the Vatican at Rome, and one in the Glyptothek at Munich; and the Roman wall painting (text, Fig. 30). =41. Rhea= was worshiped as =Cybele=, the Great Mother, in Phrygia and at Pessinus in Galatia. During the Second Punic War, 203 _B.C._, her image was brought from the latter place to Rome. In 191 B.C. the Megalesian Games were first celebrated in her honor, occupying six days, from the fourth of April on. Plays were acted during this festival. The Great Mother was also called Cybebe, Berecyntia, and Dindymene. =The Cybele of Art.= In works of art, Cybele exhibits the matronly air which distinguishes Juno and Ceres. Sometimes she is veiled, and seated on a throne with lions at her side; at other times she rides in a chariot drawn by lions. She wears a mural crown, that is, a crown whose rim is carved in the form of towers and battlements. Rhea is mentioned by Homer (Iliad, 15, 187) as the consort of Cronus. =_Illustrative._= Byron's figure likening Venice to Cybele, Childe Harold, 4, 2, "She looks a sea-Cybele, fresh from ocean," etc. Also Milton's Arcades, 21. =42. _Interpretative._= It is interesting to note that Homer (Iliad and Odyssey) recognizes Dionysus neither as inventor, nor as exclusive god of wine. In Iliad, 6, 130 he refers, however, to the Dionysus cult in Thrace. Hesiod is the first to call wine the gift of Dionysus. =Dionysus= means the Zeus or _god_ of Nysa, an imaginary vale of Thrace, B[oe]otia, or elsewhere, in which the deity spent his youth. The name =Bacchus= owes its origin to the _enthusiasm_ with which the followers of the god lifted up their voices in his praise. Similar names are Iacchus, Bromius, Evius (from the cry _evoe_). The god was also called Lyæus, the _loosener_ of care, Liber, the _liberator_. His followers are also known as Edonides (from Mount Edon, in Thrace, where he was worshiped), Thyiades, the _sacrificers_, Lenæa and Bassarides. His festivals were the Lesser and Greater Dionysia (at Athens), the Lenæa, and the Anthesteria, in December, March, January, and February, respectively. At the first, three dramatic performances were presented. _=Illustrative.=_ A few references and allusions worth consulting: Spenser, Epithalamion; Fletcher, Valentinian, "God Lyæus, ever young"; Randolph, To Master Anthony Stafford (1632); Milton, L'Allegro, 16; Paradise Lost, 4, 279; 7, 33; Comus, 46, 522; Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, V, i; Love's Labour's Lost, IV, iii; Antony and Cleopatra, II, vii, song; Shelley, Ode to Liberty, 7, Rome--"like a Cadmæan Mænad"; Keats, To a Nightingale, "Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards." On =Semele=, Milton, Paradise Regained, 2, 187; Spenser, Faerie Queene, 3, 11, 33. _=Poems.=_ Ben Jonson, Dedication of the King's New Cellar; Thomas Parnell, Bacchus, or the Drunken Metamorphosis; Landor, Sophron's Hymn to Bacchus; Swinburne, Prelude to Songs before Sunrise; Roden Noël, The Triumph of Bacchus; Robert Bridges, The Feast of Bacchus; others given in text. See Index. _=In Art.=_ Of ancient representations of the Bacchus, the best examples are the marble in the British Museum (text, Fig. 31); the Silenus holding the child Bacchus (in the Louvre); the head of Dionysus found in Smyrna (now in Leyden--see text, Fig. 143), from an original of the school of Scopas; the head (now in London) from the Baths of Caracalla, of the later Attic school; the Faun and Bacchus (Museum, Naples); a standing bronze figure in Vienna, and the statue of the Villa Tiburtina (Rome). The bearded or Indian Bacchus is represented as advanced in years, grave, dignified, crowned with a diadem and robed to the feet. See also Figs. 82-87, in text. In modern sculpture note especially the Drunken Bacchus of Michelangelo. Among modern paintings worthy of notice are Bouguereau's Youth of Bacchus, and C. Gleyre's Dance of the Bacchantes. See also under _Ariadne_. =43.= The invention of the syrinx is attributed also to Mercury. For poetical illustrations of Pan see =C. 129-138=. So also for Nymphs and Satyrs. _=In Art.=_ Pan the Hunter (text, Fig. 32); the antique, Pan and Daphnis (with the syrinx) in the Museum at Naples. See references above. =44-46.= It was only in rare instances that mortals returned from Hades. See the stories of Hercules, Orpheus, Ulysses, Æneas. On the tortures of the condemned and the happiness of the blessed, see =254-257= in The Adventures of Æneas. _=Illustrative.=_ Lowell, addressing the Past, says: Whatever of true life there was in thee Leaps in our age's veins; ... Here, 'mid the bleak waves of our strife and care Float the green Fortunate Isles Where all thy hero-spirits dwell, and share Our martyrdom and toils; The present moves attended With all of brave and excellent and fair That made the old time splendid. Milton, Paradise Lost, 3, 568, "Like those Hesperian gardens," etc. See also the same, 2, 577 ff.,--"Abhorrèd =Styx=, the flood of deadly hate,"--where the rivers of Erebus are characterized according to the meaning of their Greek names; and L'Allegro, 3. =Charon=: Pope, Dunciad, 3, 19; R. C. Rogers, Charon. =Elysium=: Cowper, Progress of Error, Night, "The balm of care, Elysium of the mind"; Milton, Paradise Lost, 3, 472; Comus, 257; L'Allegro; Shakespeare, 3 Henry VI, I, ii; Cymbeline, V, iv; Twelfth Night, I, ii; Two Gentlemen of Verona, II, vii; Shelley, To Naples. =Lethe=: Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, IV, i; Julius Cæsar, III, i; Hamlet, I, v; 2 Henry IV, V, ii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 2, 583. =Tartarus=: Milton, Paradise Lost, 2, 858; 6, 54. =47. _Interpretative._= The name =Hades= means "the invisible," or "he who makes invisible." The meaning of Pluto (_Plouton_), according to Plato (Cratylus), is _wealth_,--the giver of treasure which lies underground. Pluto carries the cornucopia, symbol of inexhaustible riches; but careful discrimination must be observed between him and Plutus (_Ploutos_), who is merely an allegorical figure,--a personification of wealth and nothing more. =Hades= is called also the Illustrious, the Many-named, the Benignant, _Polydectes_ or the Hospitable. _=Illustrative.=_ Milton, L'Allegro, and Il Penseroso; Paradise Lost, 4, 270; Thomas Kyd, Spanish Tragedy (Andrea's descent to Hades;--this poem deals extensively with the Infernal Regions); Shakespeare, 2 Henry IV, II, iv; Troilus and Cressida, IV, iv; V, ii; Coriolanus, I, iv; Titus Andronicus, IV, iii. _=Poems.=_ Buchanan, Ades, King of Hell; Lewis Morris, Epic of Hades. =48. Proserpina.= Not from the Latin _pro-serpo_, 'to creep forth' (used of herbs in spring), but from the Greek form Persephone, _bringer of death_. The later name =Pherephatta= refers to the doves (_phatta_), which were sacred to her as well as to Aphrodite. She carries ears of corn as symbol of vegetation, poppies as symbol of the sleep of death, the pomegranate as the fruit of the underworld of which none might partake and return to the light of heaven. Among the Romans her worship was overshadowed by that of =Libitina=, a native deity of the underworld. _=Illustrative.=_ Keats, Melancholy, 1; Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 2, 2; Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 269; 9, 396. _=Poems.=_ Aubrey De Vere, The Search after Proserpine; Jean Ingelow, Persephone; Swinburne, Hymns to Proserpine; L. Morris, Persephone (Epic of Hades); D. G. Rossetti, Proserpina. (Also in crayons, in water colors, and in oil.) _=In Art.=_ Sculpture: Eastern pediment of Parthenon frieze. Painting: Lorenzo Bernini's Pluto and Proserpine; P. Schobelt's Abduction of Proserpine. =49. _Textual._= (1) For Æacus, son of Ægina, see =61= and =C. 190=, Table O; for Minos and Rhadamanthus, see =59. Eumenides=: euphemistic term, meaning the _well-intentioned_. =Hecate= was descended through her father Perses from the Titans, Creüs and Eurybië; through her mother Asteria from the Titans, C[oe]us and Ph[oe]be. She was therefore, on both sides, the granddaughter of Uranus and Gæa. The following table is based upon Hesiod's account of =The Family of Night=. (Theogony.) According to other theogonies, the Fates were daughters of Jove and Themis, and the Hesperides daughters of Atlas. The story of the true and false =Dreams= and the horn and ivory gates (Odyssey, 19, 560) rests on a double play upon words: (1) #elephas# (_elephas_), 'ivory,' and #elephairomai# (_elephairomai_), 'to cheat with false hope'; (2) #keras# (_keras_), horn, and #krainein# (_krainein_), 'to fulfill.' See Mortimer Collins, The Ivory Gate, a poem. =_Illustrative._ Hades=: Milton, Paradise Lost, 2, 964; L. Morris, Epic of Hades. =Styx=: Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, V, iv; Titus Andronicus, I, ii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 2, 577; Pope, Dunciad, 2, 338. =Erebus=: Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, V, i; 2 Henry IV, II, iv; Julius Cæsar, II, i. =Cerberus=: Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 11, 41; Shakespeare, Love's Labour's Lost, V, ii; 2 Henry IV, II, iv; Troilus and Cressida, II, i; Titus Andronicus, II, v; Maxwell, Tom May's Death; Milton, L'Allegro, 2. =Furies=: Milton, Lycidas; Paradise Lost, 2, 597, 671; 6, 859; 10, 620; Paradise Regained, 9, 422; Comus, 641; Dryden, Alexander's Feast, 6; Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, V, i; Richard III, I, iv; 2 Henry IV, V, iii. =Hecate=: Shakespeare, Macbeth, IV, i. =Sleep and Death=: Shelley, To Night; H. K. White, Thanatos. =_In Art._= Vase-painting of Canusium of the Underworld (text, Fig. 34); painting of a =Fury= by Michelangelo (Uffizi, Florence); also Figs. 35-39 in text. =50-52.= See next page for Genealogical Table, Divinities of the Sea. For stories of the Grææ, Gorgons, Scylla, Sirens, Pleiades, etc., consult Index. =_Illustrative._ Oceanus=: Milton, Comus, 868. =Neptune=: Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 11, 54; Shakespeare, Tempest, I, ii; Midsummer Night's Dream, II, ii; Macbeth, II, ii; Cymbeline, III, i; Hamlet, I, i; Milton, Lycidas; Paradise Regained, 1, 190; Paradise Lost, 9, 18; Comus, 869; Prior, Ode on Taking of Namur; Waller's Panegyric to the Lord Protector. =Panope=: Milton, Lycidas, 99. =Harpies.= Milton, Paradise Lost, 3, 403. =Sirens=: Wm. Morris, Life and Death of Jason--Song of the Sirens. =Scylla= and Charybdis (see Index): Milton, Paradise Lost, 2, 660; Arcades, 63; Comus, 257; Pope, Rape of the Lock, 3, 122. =Sirens=: Rossetti, A Sea-Spell; A. Lang, "They hear the Sirens for the second time." TABLE B. THE FAMILY OF NIGHT =Night= +-- Goddesses of Destiny and Fate (_Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos_) +-- Death (_Thanatos_) +-- Sleep | +-- Morpheus | +-- Icelus | +-- Phantasus +-- Dreams +-- Momus (god of ridicule--adverse criticism) +-- Care +-- Hesperides +-- Nemesis =Naiads.= Landor, To Joseph Ablett; Shelley, To Liberty, 8; Spenser, Prothalamion, 19; Milton, Lycidas; Paradise Regained, 2, 355; Comus, 254; Buchanan, Naiad (see =134=); Drummond of Hawthornden, "Nymphs, sister nymphs, which haunt this crystal brook, And happy in these floating bowers abide," etc.; Pope, Summer, 7; Armstrong, Art of Preserving Health, "Come, ye Naiads! to the fountains lead." TABLE C. DIVINITIES OF THE SEA Gæa =Uranus +-- =Oceanus= | ==Tethys= | +-- Inachus and other river-gods | +-- Oceanids | +-- Doris (the Oceanid) | =Nereus | +-- =Amphitrite= | | ==Neptune= | | +-- Proteus (_acc. to Apollodorus_) | | +-- Triton | +-- =Galatea= | +-- Thetis | =Peleus | +-- Achilles +-- Cronus | =Rhea | +-- =Neptune= | ==Amphitrite= | +-- Proteus (_acc. to Apollodorus_) (see above) | +-- Triton (see above) +-- Rhea =Cronus +-- =Neptune= (see above) Gæa =Pontus +-- Nereus | =Doris (the Oceanid) | +-- Amphitrite (see above) | +-- Galatea (see above) | +-- Thetis (see above) +-- Thaumas | +-- Iris | +-- Harpies +-- Phorcys | =Ceto | +-- Grææ | +-- Gorgons | +-- Sirens | +-- Scylla +-- Ceto =Phorcys +-- Grææ (see above) +-- Gorgons (see above) +-- Sirens (see above) +-- Scylla (see above) =Proteus.= Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona, I, i; II, ii; III, ii; IV, iv; Pope, Dunciad, 1, 37; 2, 109. The Water Deities are presented in a masque contained in Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid's Tragedy. =_In Art._= Poseidon: see text, Figs. 40 and 41 (originals in the British Museum and the Glyptothek, Munich); also the Isthmian Poseidon, Fig. 95. The Atlas (Græco-Roman sculpture) in National Museum, Naples; the Triton in Vatican (text, Fig. 42). Modern painting: J. Van Beers, The Siren; D. G. Rossetti, The Siren. =_Textual._ Consus=, from _condere_, 'to stow away.' The sisters of =Carmenta=, the forward-looking Antevorta and the backward-looking Postvorta, were originally but different aspects of the function of the Muse. =54. _Illustrative._ Saturn=: Milton, Il Penseroso; Keats, Hyperion; Peele, Arraignment of Paris. =Janus=, as god of civilization: Dryden, Epistle to Congreve, 7. =Fauns=: Milton, Lycidas; R. C. Rogers, The Dancing Faun. See Hawthorne's Marble Faun. =Bellona=: Shakespeare, Macbeth, "Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof"; Milton, Paradise Lost, 2, 922. =Pomona=: Randolph, To Master Anthony Stafford; Milton, Paradise Lost, 9, 393; 5, 378; Thomson, Seasons, Summer, 663. =Flora=: Milton, Paradise Lost, 5, 16; Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 4, 17; R. H. Stoddard, Arcadian Hymn to Flora; Pope, Windsor Forest, 38. =Janus=: Jonathan Swift, To Janus, on New Year's Day, 1726; =Egeria=, one of the Camenæ; Childe Harold, 4, 115-120; Tennyson, Palace of Art, "Holding one hand against his ear," etc. =Pan=, etc.: Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 707; 4, 329. =_In Sculpture._= The Satyr, or so-called Faun, of Praxiteles in the Vatican (text, Fig. 106); Dancing Faun (Lateran, Rome); Dancing Faun, Drunken Faun, Sleeping Faun, and Faun and Bacchus (National Museum, Naples); The Barberini Faun, or Sleeping Satyr (Glyptothek, Munich). =Flora.= Painting by Titian (Uffizi, Florence). =55.= The first love of Zeus was =Metis=, daughter of Oceanus and Tethys. She is Prudence or Foreknowledge. She warned Zeus that if she bore him a child, it would be greater than he. Whereupon Zeus swallowed her; and, in time, from his head sprang Athene, "the virgin of the azure eyes, Equal in strength, and as her father wise" (Hesiod, Theog.). On =Latona=, see =32=, =73=, and Commentary. =56.= For Danaë see =151=; for Alemene, =156=; for Leda, =194=. =57.= In the following general table of the =Race of Inachus= (see p. 488), marriages are indicated in the usual manner (by the sign =, or by parentheses); the more important characters mentioned in this work are printed in heavy-faced type. While numerous less important branches, families, and mythical individuals have been intentionally omitted, it is hoped that this reduction of various relationships, elsewhere explained or tabulated, to a general scheme, may furnish the reader with a clearer conception of the family ties that motivate many of the incidents of mythical adventure, and that must have been commonplaces of information to those who invented and perpetuated these stories. It should be borne in mind that the traditions concerning relationships are by no means consistent, and that consequently the collation of mythical genealogies demands the continual exercise of discretion, and a balancing of probabilities. Notice that from the union of Jupiter and Io (Table D), Hercules is descended in the thirteenth generation. =Inachus= is the principal river of Argolis in the Peloponnesus. _=Interpretative.=_ =Io= is explained as the horned moon, in its various changes and wanderings. =Argus= is the heaven with its myriad stars, some of them shut, some blinking, some always agleam. The wand of Hermes and his music may be the morning breeze, at the coming of which the eyes of heaven close (Cox, 2, 138; Preller 2, 40). The explanation would, however, be just as probable if Mercury (Hermes) were a cloud-driving wind. =Pan and the Syrinx=: naturally the wind playing through the reeds, if (with Müller and Cox) we take Pan to be the all-purifying, but yet gentle, wind. But see p. 181. _=Illustrative.=_ Shelley, To the Moon, "Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth?" Milton's "To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray, Through the heaven's wide pathless way" (Il Penseroso). See also for Io, Shelley's Prometheus Bound. =Argus=: Milton, Paradise Lost, 11, 131; Pope, Dunciad, 2, 374; 4, 637. =_In Art._= Fig. 47 in the text, from a wall-painting of Herculaneum (Museum, Naples). Correggio's painting, Jupiter and Io; not a pleasant conception. =58. _Interpretative._= The myth of =Callisto= and =Arcas= is of Arcadian origin. If the Arcadians, in very remote times, traced their descent from a she-bear, and if they also, like other races, recognized a bear in a certain constellation, they might naturally mix the fables and combine them later with the legend of the all-powerful Zeus (Lang, 2, 181). According to another account, Callisto was punished for her love of Jupiter by Diana (Artemis). Her name has been identified with the adjective _Calliste_, 'most fair,' which was certainly applied to Artemis herself. That Artemis was protectress of she-bears is known; also that, in Attica, she was served by girls who imitated, while dancing, the gait of bears. It is quite possible, therefore, that Artemis inherited a more ancient worship of the bear that may have been the _totem_, or sacred animal, from which the Arcadians traced a mythological descent. Others hold that the word _arksha_, 'a star,' became confused with the Greek _arktos_, 'a bear.' So the myth of the son Arcas (the star and the bear) may have arisen (Max Müller). The last star in the tail of the Little Bear is the Polestar, or =Cynosure= (dog's tail). TABLE D. THE RACE OF INACHUS AND ITS BRANCHES =Oceanus= +-- =Inachus= +-- Phoroneus | +-- Apis | +-- Niobe | ==Jupiter= | +-- Argus | | +-- (Tiryns, Epidaurus, and other founders of | | Peloponnesian cities) | +-- Pelasgus | +-- Lycaon | +-- Sons destroyed for impiety | +-- =Callisto= | ==Jupiter= | +-- =Arcas= (ancestor of The Arcadians) | +-- Elatus | +-- Pereus | +-- Neæra | +-- Lycurgus | +-- =Ancæus= (Calyd. Hunt) | +-- Amphidamas | | | (an Argonaut) | | +-- Antimache | | ==Eurystheus= | +-- Jasus | +-- =Atalanta= of | Arcadia (Calyd. Hunt) +-- =Argus= Panoptes (slain by Mercury) +-- Phegeus | +-- Arsinoë | =Alcmæon +-- =Io= ==Jupiter= +-- Epaphus +-- Libya =Neptune +-- Agenor | +-- =Cadmus= | | =Harmonia | | +-- =Semele= | | | ==Jupiter= | | | +-- =Bacchus= | | +-- =Ino= | | | =Athamas | | | +-- =Melicertes= | | +-- =Autonoë= | | | =Aristæus | | | +-- =Actæon= | | +-- =Agave= | | | =Echion | | | +-- =Pentheus= | | | +-- Men[oe]ceus | | | +-- =Creon= | | | | +-- Men[oe]ceus II | | | | +-- Hæmon | | | +-- =Jocasta= | | | ==Laïus= | | | +-- =[OE]dipus= | | | +-- =Eteocles= | | | +-- =Polynices= | | | | +-- Thersander | | | +-- =Antigone= | | | +-- =Ismene= | | +-- Polydorus | | +-- Labdacus | | +-- =Laïus= | | ==Jocasta= | | +-- =[OE]dipus= (see above) | +-- Ph[oe]nix | +-- Cilix | +-- Phineus (the Soothsayer) | +-- =Europa= | ==Jupiter= | +-- =Minos I= | | +-- Lycastus | | +-- =Minos II= | | =Pasiphaë | | +-- Crateus | | | +-- Aërope | | | =Atreus | | | +-- =Agamemnon= | | | | =Clytemnestra | | | +-- =Menelaüs= | | | =Helen | | +-- =Phædra= | | | =Theseus | | +-- =Ariadne= | | =Theseus | +-- =Rhadamanthus= | +-- =Sarpedon= +-- Belus +-- Ægyptus | +-- 49 sons | +-- =Lynceus= | ==Hypermnestra= | +-- Abas | +-- Acrisius | | +-- =Danaë= | | ==Jupiter= | | +-- =Perseus= | | ==Andromeda= | | +-- Perses | | +-- Electryon | | | +-- Alcmene | | | ==Jupiter= | | | +-- =Hercules= | | | =Amphitryon | | | +-- =Iphicles= | | +-- Alcæus | | | +-- Amphitryon | | | =Alcmene | | | +-- =Iphicles= | | | (see above) | | +-- Sthenelus | +-- Pr[oe]tus | +-- Megapenthes +-- Danaüs | +-- =Hypermnestra= | ==Lynceus= | +-- Abas (see above) +-- Cepheus =Cassiopea +-- =Andromeda= ==Perseus= +-- Perses (see above) +-- Electryon (see above) +-- Alcæus (see above) +-- Sthenelus (see above) _=Illustrative.=_ Milton's "Let my lamp, at midnight hour, Be seen in some high lonely tower, Where I may oft _outwatch the Bear_" (Il Penseroso); and his "Where perhaps some beauty lies The cynosure of neighbouring eyes" (L'Allegro); also his "And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, Or Tyrian Cynosure" (Comus). Note Lowell's "The Bear, that prowled all night about the fold Of the North-star, hath shrunk into his den" (Prometheus). See also the song beginning, "Hear ye, ladies, that despise What the mighty Love had done," in Beaumont and Fletcher's drama, Valentinian,--for Callisto, Leda, and Danaë. =59. The Descendants of Agenor.= For further details, see Table D. TABLE E Mars =Venus +-- Harmonia ==Cadmus= +-- =Semele= | =Jupiter | +-- Bacchus +-- Ino | =Athamas | +-- Melicertes +-- Autonoë | =Aristæus | +-- Actæon +-- Agave | +-- Pentheus +-- Polydorus +-- Labdacus +-- Laïus +-- [OE]dipus (royal family of Thebes) =Agenor= +-- =Cadmus= | =Harmonia | +-- =Semele= (see above) | +-- Ino (see above) | +-- Autonoë (see above) | +-- Agave (see above) | +-- Polydorus (see above) +-- =Europa= | =Jupiter | +-- Minos | +-- Rhadamanthus | +-- Sarpedon +-- Ph[oe]nix +-- Cilix =_Textual._ Moschus= lived about the close of the third century B.C. in Syracuse. He was a grammarian and an idyllic poet. He calls himself a pupil of Bion,--whose Lament for Adonis is given in =100=. Both Bion and Moschus belong to the School of Theocritus--the Idyllic or Pastoral School of Poetry. =Cypris=: Venus, by whom the island of Cyprus was beloved. =Mygdonian flutes=: the ancients had three species or modes of music, depending, respectively, upon the succession of musical intervals which was adopted as the basis of the system. The Lydian measures were shrill and lively; the Dorian deep in tone, grave, and solemn; the Mygdonian, or Phrygian, were supposed by some to have been the same as the Lydian, but more probably they were a combination of Lydian and Dorian. =Shaker of the World=: Neptune. =Crete=: where Jupiter had been concealed from his father Cronus, and nourished by the goat Amalthea. =_Interpretative._= Herodotus says that =Europa= was a historical princess of Tyre, carried off by Hellenes to Crete. =Taurus= (the bull) was euhemeristically conceived to be a king of Crete who carried off the Tyrian princess as prize of war. Others said that probably the figurehead of the ship in which Europa was conveyed to Crete was a _bull_. It is not improbable that the story indicates a settlement of Ph[oe]nicians in Crete and the introduction by them of cattle. Modern critics, such as Preller and Welcker, make Europa a goddess of the moon = Diana or Astarte, and translate her name "the dark, or obscured one." But she has undoubtedly a connection with the earth, perhaps as wife of Jupiter (the Heaven). H. D. Müller connects both Io and Europa with the wandering Demeter (or Ceres), and considers Demeter to be a goddess both of the moon and of the earth (Helbig, in Roscher). Cox, after his usual method, finds here the Dawn borne across the heaven by the lord of the pure ether. Europa would then be the broad-spreading flush of dawn, seen first in the purple region of morning (Ph[oe]nicia). Her brother Cadmus, who pursues her, would be the sun searching for his lost sister or bride. Very fanciful, but inconclusive. =The bull= occurs not infrequently in myth as an incarnation of deity. =_Illustrative._= W. S. Landor, Europa and her Mother; Aubrey De Vere, The Rape of Europa; E. Dowden, Europa; W. W. Story, Europa (a sonnet). See also a graceful picture in Tennyson's Palace of Art. =_In Art._= Fig. 48, in text, from vase found at Cumæ; the marble group in the Vatican, Europa riding the Bull; painting by Paolo Veronese, The Rape of Europa; Europa, by Claude Lorrain. =60.= See Tables D and E. =_Interpretative._= According to Preller, =Semele= is a personification of the fertile soil in spring, which brings forth the productive vine. In the irrational part of the myth, Jove takes the child Dionysus (Bacchus), after Semele's death, and sews him up in his thigh for safe-keeping. Preller finds here "the wedlock of heaven and earth, the first day that it thunders in March." Exactly why, might be easy to guess, but hard to demonstrate. The thigh of Jupiter would have to be the cool moist clouds brooding over the youthful vine. The whole explanation is altogether too conjectural. See A. Lang's Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 221-225, for a more plausible but less poetic theory. =_Illustrative._= Milton, Paradise Regained, 2, 187; Bowring's translation of Schiller's Semele; E. R. Sill, Semele, of which a part is given in the text. =_In Art._= Fig. 50, in text. =61. _Textual._= The son of Ægina and Jove was Æacus (for genealogy, see Table O (1)). =Ægina=: an island in the Saronic Gulf, between Attica and Argolis. =Asopus=: the name of two rivers, one in Achaia, one in B[oe]otia, of which the latter is the more important. The Greek traveler, Pausanias, tells us that Asopus was the discoverer of the river which bears his name. =Sisyphus=, see =255=. This description of the plague is copied by Ovid from the account which Thucydides gives of the plague of Athens. That account, much fuller than is here given, was drawn from life and has been the source from which many subsequent poets and novelists have drawn details of similar scenes. The =Myrmidons= were, during the Trojan War, the soldiers of Achilles, grandson of this king Æacus. =_Interpretative._= The name =Ægina= may imply either the shore on which the waves break (Preller), or the sacred goat (_Ægeus_) which was the _totem_ of the Ægeus family of Attica. The worship of Athene was introduced into Athens by this family. In sacrifices the goddess was clad in the skin of the sacred goat, but no goat might be sacrificed to her. Probably another example of the survival of a savage ritual (Lang, Myth, Ritual, etc., 1, 280). =_Illustrative._ Myrmidons=: No, no, said Rhadamant, it were not well, With loving souls to place a martialist; He died in war, and must to martial fields, Where wounded Hector lives in lasting pain, And Achilles' Myrmidons do scour the plain. Kyd, Spanish Tragedy On =Sisyphus=, read Lewis Morris' poem in The Epic of Hades. =62. _Textual._ Mænad=: the Mænades, from #mainomai# (_mainomai_), 'to rage,' were women who danced themselves into a frenzy in the orgies or festivals of Bacchus. =Cithæron=: a mountain range south of Thebes and between B[oe]otia and Attica. =_Interpretative._ Antiope=, philologically interpreted, may indicate the moon with face turned full upon us. That Antiope is a personification of some such natural phenomena would also appear from the significance of the names associated with hers in the myth: =Nycteus=, the _night-man_; =Lycus=, the _man of light_. Amphion and Zethus are thought, in like fashion, to represent manifestations of light; see also Castor and Pollux. Perhaps the method employed by Zethus and Amphion in building Thebes may merely symbolize the advantage of combining mechanical force with well-ordered or harmonious thought. =_In Art_=: The Farnese Bull group (text, opp. p. 74): marble, maybe by Tauriscus and Tralles, in Naples Museum. Fig. 51: a relief in the Palazzo Spada, Rome. Modern painting: Correggio's Antiope. =63. _Textual._ Phrygia=: a province in Asia Minor. For =Minerva's= protection of the olive, see =65=. =Tyana= is a town in Cappadocia, Asia Minor. =64. _Textual._ Argos=: the capital of Argolis in the Peloponnesus. Of =Cydippe=, it is told, in Ovid's Heroides and elsewhere, that, when a girl sacrificing in the temple of Diana in Delos, she was seen and loved by a youth, Acontius. He threw before her an apple, on which these words were inscribed, "I swear by the sanctuary of Diana to marry Acontius." The maiden read aloud the words and threw the apple away. But the vow was registered by Diana, who, in spite of many delays, brought about the marriage of Cydippe and her unknown lover. =Polyclitus= =the Elder=, of Argos, lived about 431 B.C., and was a contemporary of two other great sculptors, Phidias and Myron. His greatest work was the chryselephantine statue of Hera for her temple between Argos and Mycenæ. =_Illustrative._= Beside Gosse's Sons of Cydippe, see verses by L. J. Richardson, in _The Inlander_, Ann Arbor, Vol. 2, p. 2. For the story of Acontius and Cydippe, see William Morris' Earthly Paradise; and Lytton's Cydippe, or The Apples, in The Lost Tales of Miletus. =_In Art._= The severe design in clay by Teignmouth, of which prints may be obtained, was made to illustrate Gosse's poem. =65-66. _Textual._= For =Cecrops=, see =174=. He named the city that he founded Cecropia,--a name which afterwards clung to Athens. For an excellent description of ancient weaving, see Catullus, LXIV, 304-323 (The Peleus and Thetis). For translation, see =191. Leda=, mother of Castor, Pollux, Helen, and Clytemnestra (see =194= and Commentary). =Danaë=, mother of Perseus (see =151=). =_Interpretative._= The waves were the coursers of Neptune,--the horses with which he scours the strand. =Arachne=: a princess of Lydia. It is probable that the myth symbolizes the competition in products of the loom between Attica and Asia Minor and the superior handicraft of the Athenian weavers. =_Illustrative._ Arachne=: Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, V, ii; Pope, Dunciad, 4, 590. =_Poem_=: Garrick, Upon a Lady's Embroidery. =_In Art._= Fig. 52, in text: from a vase in St. Petersburg. =68. _Textual._ Diomede=: for his genealogy, see Table K. =Taslets=: armor worn about the thighs. =Cyprian=: Venus. =Pæan= (Pæon, or Paiëon), classed by Homer among the Olympian gods, of whom he is, as his name implies, the "healer." Later, the name was applied to Æsculapius, then to any god who might repair or avert evil of any kind, as, for instance, to Apollo and to Thanatos (Death). See Armstrong's Art of Health, "So Pæan, so the powers of Health command," etc., and "the wise of ancient days Adored one power of physic, melody, and song." =Pæans= were chants in honor of Apollo, sung to deprecate misfortune in battle or to avert disease. =Lower than the sons of Heaven=: lower than the Titans, sons of Uranus (Heaven), who were plunged into Tartarus. =69. _Textual._= Lessing points out in his Laocoön the skill with which Homer, stating the size of the stone hurled by Minerva and the measure of the space covered by Mars, suggests the gigantic proportions of the warring divinities. =70. _Textual._= Family of =Cadmus=: see Tables D and E. =Castalian Cave= of Mount Parnassus, Phocis; here was the famous Delphic oracle of Apollo. =Cephissus=: a river running through Doris, Phocis, and B[oe]otia into the Eub[oe]an Gulf; the valley of the Cephissus was noted for its fertility. =Panope=: a town on the Cephissus. =Tyrians=: Cadmus and his followers came from Tyre in Ph[oe]nicia. The =Necklace of Harmonia= was a fateful gift. It brought evil to whomsoever it belonged: to all the descendants of Cadmus; to Eriphyle, wife of Amphiaraüs of Argos, to whom Polynices gave it; and to the sons of Eriphyle. It was finally dedicated to Apollo in Delphi. Harmonia's robe possessed the same fatality, =187, 189. Enchelians=: a people of Illyria. For the myths of =Semele=, see =60=; of =Ino, 144=; of =Autonoë= and her son, =Actæon, 95=; of =Agave= and her son, =Pentheus,= =112=; of =Polydorus=, the =Labdacidæ=, =[OE]dipus=, etc., =182=. =Eight years=: the usual period of penance. Apollo, after slaying the Python, had to clear himself of defilement by a period of purification. =_Interpretative._ Cadmus and his Tyrians=: according to the usual explanation, this myth is based upon an immigration of Ph[oe]nicians, who settled B[oe]otia and gave laws, the rudiments of culture (alphabet, etc.), and industrial arts to the older races of Greece. Many Theban names, such as Melicertes, Cadmus, point to a possible Ph[oe]nician origin; _cf._ Semitic Melkarth, and Kedem, the _East_. But Preller holds that two mythical personages, a Greek Cadmus and a Ph[oe]nician Cadmus, have been confounded; that the Theban Cadmus is merely the representative of the oldest Theban state; that the selection of the spot on which a heifer had lain down was a frequent practice among settlers, superstitious about the site of their new town; that the dragon typifies the cruel and forbidding nature of the uncultivated surroundings; and that the story of the dragon's teeth was manufactured to flatter the warlike spirit of the Thebans, the teeth themselves being spear points. =Harmonia=, daughter of the patron deities of Thebes, is the symbol of the peace and domesticity that attend the final establishment of order in the State. According to the Sun-and-Cloud theory of Cox, Cadmus, the Sun, pursues his sister, Europa, the broad-flushing light of Dawn, who has been carried off on a spotless cloud (the Bull). The Sun, of course, must journey farther west than Crete. The heifer that he is to follow is, therefore, still another cloud (like the cattle of the Sun,--clouds). The dragon of Mars is still a third cloud; and this the Sun dissipates. A storm follows, after which new conflicts arise between the clouds that have sprung up from the moistened earth (the harvest of armed men!). This kind of explanation, indiscriminately indulged, delights the fancy of the inventor and titillates the risibles of the reader. =_Illustrative._= Milton, Paradise Lost, 9, 506. The serpent that tempted Eve compared with the serpents Cadmus and "Hermione." See Byron, Don Juan, 3, 86, "You have the letters Cadmus gave--Think you he meant them for a slave?" =_In Art._= Fig. 54, in text: from a vase in the Naples Museum. Fig. 55 is of a vase-painting from Eretria. =71. _Textual._ Eurynome= is represented by some as one of the Titans, the wife of Ophion. Ophion and Eurynome, according to one legend, ruled over heaven before the age of Saturn (Cronus). So Milton, Paradise Lost, 10, 580, "And fabled how the Serpent, whom they called Ophion, with Eurynome (the wide-Encroaching Eve perhaps), had first the rule Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driven." According to Vulcan's statement (Iliad, 18), Eurynome was daughter of Oceanus and Tethys. She was mother, by Jupiter, of the Graces. =Thetis=: see =50=. =Xanthus=: the principal river of Lycia in Asia Minor. =72-73. _Interpretative._ Latona= (=Leto=): according to Homer, one of the deities of Olympus; a daughter of the Titans C[oe]us and Ph[oe]be, whose names indicate phenomena of radiant light. She belonged, perhaps, to an ancient theogony of Asia Minor. At any rate she held at one time the rank of lawful wife to Zeus. Preller and, after him, Cox take Leto as _the dusk_ or _darkness_. Cox traces the word to the root of Lethe (the forgetful), but Preller is doubtful. Possibly Leto and Leda, the mother of the bright Castor and Pollux, have something in common. The wanderings of Latona may be the weary journey of the night over the mountain tops, both before and after the Sun (Apollo) is born in Delos (the land of Dawn). =_Illustrative._= Milton, Arcades, 20, and Sonnet XII, "On the detraction which followed upon my writing certain treatises." =74. _Textual._ Hyperboreans=: those who dwell in the land beyond the North. Pæan, see =C. 68=. =Tityus=: an earthborn giant; condemned to the underworld, he lay stretched over nine acres while two vultures devoured his liver. =_Interpretative._ Python=: in many savage myths, a serpent, a frog, or a lizard that drinks up all the waters, and is destroyed by some national hero or god. As Mr. Lang says: "Whether the slaying of the Python was or was not originally an allegory of the defeat of winter by sunlight, it certainly, at a very early period, became mixed up with ancient legal ideas and local traditions. It is almost as necessary for a young god or hero to slay monsters as for a young lady to be presented at court; and we may hesitate to explain all these legends of a useful feat of courage as nature myths" (Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 196). Compare the feats of Hercules, Jason, Bellerophon, Perseus, St. George and the Dragon, Sigurd, and Jack the Giant Killer. Commentators take Python to be the rigor of winter, or the darkness of night, or a "black storm-cloud which shuts up the waters" (Cox). It is not impossible that the Python was the sacred snake of an older animal worship superseded by that of Apollo. (See also =C. 38=.) =75. _Textual._= The Tyrian hue is purple, made from the juice of the _murex_, or purple shellfish. On the leaves of the hyacinth were inscribed characters like Ai, Ai, the Greek exclamation of woe. It is evidently not our modern hyacinth that is here described, but perhaps some species of iris, or of larkspur, or pansy. The meaning of the name is also uncertain, but the best authorities favor _youthful_. A festival called the =Hyacinthia= was celebrated, in commemoration of the myth, over a large part of the Peloponnesus. It lasted three days, probably in the first half of July. It consisted of chants of lamentation and fasting during the first and last days; during the second day, of processions, a horse race, joyous choral songs, dances, feasting, and sacrifice. =_Interpretative._= Most scholars consider Hyacinthus to be the personification of the blooming vegetation of spring, which withers under the heats of summer. The Hyacinthian festival seems to have celebrated--like the Linus festival and the Eleusinian--the transitory nature of life and the hope of immortality. =_Illustrative._= Keats, Endymion, "Pitying the sad death Of Hyacinthus, when the cool breath Of Zephyr slew him" (see context); Milton, Lycidas, "Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe"; On the Death of a Fair Infant, 4. =_In Art._= Fig. 58, in text, is of a marble group in the Hope Collection. =76. _Textual._ Clymene=: a daughter of Oceanus and Tethys. =Chrysolite=: or _gold stone_, our topaz. =Daystar=: Phosphor, see =38= (II). =Ambrosia= (#ambrosios#, #ambrotos#, #a-brotos#), _immortal_,--here, "food for the immortals." =Turn off to the= =left=: indicating the course of the sun, west by south. The =Serpent=, or =Dragon=: a constellation between the Great and Little Bears. =Boötes=: the constellation called the Wagoner. The limits of the =Scorpion= were restricted by the insertion of the sign of the Scales. =Athos=: a mountain forming the eastern of three peninsulas south of Macedonia. =Mount Taurus=: in Armenia. =Mount Tmolus=: in Lydia. =Mount [OE]te=: between Thessaly and Ætolia, where Hercules ascended his funeral pile. =Ida=: the name of two mountains,--one in Crete, where Jupiter was nurtured by Amalthea, the other in Phrygia, near Troy. =Mount Helicon=: in B[oe]otia, sacred also to Apollo. =Mount Hæmus=: in Thrace. =Ætna=: in Sicily. =Parnassus=: in Phocis; one peak was sacred to Apollo, the other to the Muses. The Castalian Spring, sacred to the Muses, is at the foot of the mountain; Delphi is near by. =Rhodope=: part of the Hæmus range of mountains. =Scythia=: a general designation of Europe and Asia north of the Black Sea. =Caucasus=: between the Black and Caspian seas. =Mount Ossa=: associated with =Mount Pelion= in the story of the giants, who piled one on top of the other in their attempt to scale Olympus. These mountains, with =Pindus=, are in Thessaly. =Libyan= desert: in Africa. Libya was fabled to have been the daughter of Epaphus, king of Egypt. =Tanaïs=: the Don, in Scythia. =Caïcus=: a river of Greater Mysia, flowing into the sea at Lesbos. =Xanthus= and =Mæander=: rivers of Phrygia, flowing near Troy. =Ca ster=: a river of Ionia, noted for its so-called "tuneful" swans. For Nereus, Doris, Nereïds, etc., see =50= and =52=. =Eridanus=: the mythical name of the river Po in Italy (amber was found on its banks). =Naiads=, see =52= (6). _=Interpretative.=_ Apollo assumed many of the attributes of Helios, the older divinity of the sun, who is ordinarily reputed to be the father of Phaëthon (ordinarily anglicized Phaëton). The name _Phaëthon_, like the name _Ph[oe]bus_, means _the radiant one_. The sun is called both Helios Phaëthon and Helios Ph[oe]bus in Homer. It was an easy feat of the imagination to make Phaëthon the incautious son of Helios, or Apollo, and to suppose that extreme drought is caused by his careless driving of his father's chariot. The drought is succeeded by a thunderstorm; and the lightning puts an end to Phaëthon. The rain that succeeds the lightning is, according to Cox, the tears of the Heliades. It is hardly wise to press the analogy so far, unless one is prepared to explain the _amber_ in the same way. _=Illustrative.=_ Milman in his Samor alludes to the story. See also Chaucer, Hous of Fame, 435; Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 4, 9; Shakespeare, Richard II, III, iii; Two Gentlemen of Verona, III, i; 3 Henry VI, I, iv; II, vi; Romeo and Juliet, III, ii. _=Poems=_: Prior, Female Phaëton; J. G. Saxe, Phaëton; and G. Meredith, Phaëton. For description of the palace and chariot of the Sun, see Landor, Gebir, Bk. I. _=In Art=_: Fig. 59, in text: a relief on a Roman sarcophagus in the Louvre. =77. _Textual._= For the siege of Troy, see Chap. XXII. =Atrides= (=Atreides=): the son of Atreus, Agamemnon. The ending _-ides_ means _son of_, and is used in patronymics; for instance, Pelides (Peleides), Achilles; Tydides, Diomede, son of Tydeus. The ending _-is_, in patronymics, means _daughter of_; as Tyndaris, daughter of Tyndarus (Tyndareus), Helen; Chryseïs, daughter of Chryses. _=Interpretative.=_ Of this incident Gladstone, in his primer on Homer, says: "One of the greatest branches and props of morality for the heroic age lay in the care of the stranger and the poor.... Sacrifice could not be substituted for duty, nor could prayer. Such, upon the abduction of Chryseïs, was the reply of Calchas the Seer: nothing would avail but restitution." =78. The Dynasty of Tantalus and its Connections.= (See also Table I.) TABLE F =Jupiter= +-- =Tantalus= (k. of Phrygia) =Dione +-- =Niobe= | ==Amphion= | +-- 7 sons and 7 daughters +-- =Pelops= =Hippodamia +-- =Atreus= | =Aërope | +-- =Agamemnon= | +-- =Menelaüs= +-- Thyestes | +-- Ægisthus +-- Pittheus (k. of Tr[oe]zen) +-- Æthra =Ægeus +-- Theseus =Antiope +-- =Amphion= ==Niobe= +-- 7 sons and 7 daughters (see above) =Atlas= +-- Dione | ==Tantalus= (k. of Phrygia) | +-- =Niobe= (see above) | +-- =Pelops= (see above) +-- Sterope II =Mars +-- [OE]nomaüs +-- Hippodamia ==Pelops= +-- =Atreus= (see above) +-- Thyestes (see above) +-- Pittheus (k. of Tr[oe]zen) (see above) Minos II +-- Aërope ==Atreus= +-- =Agamemnon= (see above) +-- =Menelaüs= (see above) =Pelops.= It is said that the goddess Demeter in a fit of absent-mindedness ate the shoulder of Pelops. The part was replaced in ivory when Pelops was restored to life. =Mount Cynthus=: in Delos, where Apollo and Diana were born. =_Interpretative._= Max Müller derives =Niobe= from the root _snu_, or _snigh_, from which come the words for _snow_ in the Indo-European languages. In Latin and Greek, the stem is _Niv_, hence Nib, Niobe. The myth, therefore, would signify the melting of snow and the destruction of its icy offspring under the rays of the spring sun (Sci. Relig. 372). According to Homer (Iliad, 24, 611), there were six sons and six daughters. After their death no one could bury them, since all who looked on them were turned to stone. The burial was, accordingly, performed on the tenth day after the massacre, by Jupiter and the other gods. This petrifaction of the onlookers may indicate the operation of the frost. Cox says that Niobe, the snow, compares her golden-tinted, wintry mists or clouds with the splendor of the sun and moon. Others look upon the myth as significant of the withering of spring vegetation under the heats of summer (Preller). The latter explanation is as satisfactory, for spring is the child of winter (Niobe). =_Illustrative._= Pope, Dunciad, 2, 311; Lewis Morris, Niobe on Sipylus (Songs Unsung); Byron's noble stanza on fallen Rome, "The Niobe of nations! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe," etc. (Childe Harold, 4, 79); W. S. Landor, Niobe; Frederick Tennyson, Niobe. On =Tantalus=, see Lewis Morris, Tantalus, in The Epic of Hades. On Sir Richard Blackmore, a physician and poor poet, Thomas Moore writes the following stanza: 'T was in his carriage the sublime Sir Richard Blackmore used to rhyme, And, if the wits don't do him wrong, 'Twixt death and epics passed his time, Scribbling and killing all day long; Like Ph[oe]bus in his car at ease, Now warbling forth a lofty song, Now murdering the young Niobes. =_In Art._= The restoration of the statue of Niobe, Mount Sipylus; of extreme antiquity. The St. Petersburg relief (Fig. 61, in text) is probably the best group. Figs. 60 and 62 are from the ancient marbles in the Uffizi, Florence. The fragments of the latter group were discovered in 1583 near the Porta San Giovanni, Rome. The figure of the mother, clasping the little girl who has run to her in terror, is one of the most admired of the ancient statues. It ranks with the Laocoön and the Apollo Belvedere among the masterpieces of art. The following is a translation of a Greek epigram supposed to relate to this statue: To stone the gods have changed her, but in vain; The sculptor's art has made her breathe again. There is also a fine figure of a daughter of Niobe in the Vatican, Rome; and there are figures in the Louvre. Reinach in his _Apollo_ attributes the originals to Scopas. =79. _Interpretative._= The month in which the festival of =Linus= took place was called the =Lambs' Month=: the days were the =Lambs' Days=, on one of which was a massacre of dogs. According to some, Linus was a minstrel, son of Apollo and the Muse Urania, and the teacher of Orpheus and Hercules. =80. Centaurs.= Monsters represented as men from the head to the loins, while the remainder of the body was that of a horse. Centaurs are the only monsters of antiquity to which any good traits were assigned. They were admitted to the companionship of men. =Chiron= was the wisest and justest of the Centaurs. At his death he was placed by Jupiter among the stars as the constellation Sagittarius (the Archer). =Messenia=: in the Peloponnesus. =Æsculapius=: there were numerous oracles of Æsculapius, but the most celebrated was at Epidaurus. Here the sick sought responses and the recovery of their health by sleeping in the temple. It has been inferred from the accounts that have come down to us that the treatment of the sick resembled what is now called animal magnetism or mesmerism. Serpents were sacred to Æsculapius, probably because of a superstition that those animals have a faculty of renewing their youth by a change of skin. The worship of Æsculapius was introduced into Rome in a time of great sickness. An embassy, sent to the temple of Epidaurus to entreat the aid of the god, was propitiously received; and on the return of the ship Æsculapius accompanied it in the form of a serpent. Arriving in the river Tiber, the serpent glided from the vessel and took possession of an island, upon which a temple was soon erected to his honor. =_Interpretative._= The healing powers of nature may be here symbolized. But it is more likely that the family of Asclepiadæ (a medical clan) invented Asklepios as at once their ancestor and the son of the god of healing, Apollo. =_Illustrative._= Milton, Paradise Lost, 9, 506; Shakespeare, Pericles, III, ii; Merry Wives, II, iii. =_In Art._= Æsculapius (sculpture), Vatican; also the statue in the Uffizi, Florence (text, Fig. 63). Thorwaldsen's (sculpture) Hygea (Health) and Æsculapius, Copenhagen. =81. _Interpretative._= Perhaps the unceasing and unvarying round of the sun led to the conception of him as a servant. Max Müller cites the Peruvian Inca who said that if the sun were free, like fire, he would visit new parts of the heavens. "He is," said the Inca, "like a tied beast who goes ever round and round in the same track" (Chips, etc., 2, 113). Nearly all Greek heroes had to undergo servitude,--Hercules, Perseus, etc. No stories are more beautiful or more lofty than those which express the hope, innate in the human heart, that somewhere and at some time some god has lived as a man among men and for the good of men. Such stories are not confined to the Greeks or the Hebrews. =_Illustrative_=. R. Browning, Apollo and the Fates; Edith M. Thomas, Apollo the Shepherd; Emma Lazarus, Admetus; W. M. W. Call, Admetus. =83. _Textual._ Alcestis= was a daughter of the Pelias who was killed at the instigation of Medea (=167=). In that affair Alcestis took no part. For her family, see Table G. She was held in the highest honor in Greek fable, and ranked with Penelope and Laodamia, the latter of whom was her niece. To explain the myth as a physical allegory would be easy, but is it not more likely that the idea of _substitution_ finds expression in the myth?--that idea of atonement by sacrifice, which is suggested in the words of [OE]dipus at Colonus (=185=), "For one soul working in the strength of love Is mightier than ten thousand to atone." =Koré= (the daughter of Ceres): Proserpina. =Larissa=: a city of Thessaly, on the river Peneüs. =_Illustrative._= Milton's sonnet, On his Deceased Wife: Methought I saw my late espousèd saint Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Chaucer, Legende of Good Women, 208 _et seq._; Court of Love (?), 100 _et seq._ =_Poems._= Robert Browning's noble poem, Balaustion's Adventure, purports to be a paraphrase of the Alcestis of Euripides, but while it maintains the classical spirit, it is in execution an original poem. The Love of Alcestis, by William Morris; Mrs. Hemans, The Alcestis of Alfieri, and The Death Song of Alcestis; W. S. Landor, Hercules, Pluto, Alcestis, and Admetus; Alcestis: F. T. Palgrave, W. M. W. Call, John Todhunter (a drama). =_In Art._= Fig. 64, in text, Naples Museum; also the relief on a Roman sarcophagus in the Vatican. =84. _Textual._= This Laomedon was descended, through Dardanus (the forefather of the Trojan race), from Jupiter and the Pleiad Electra. For further information about him, see =119=, =161=, and Table I. =_Interpretative._= Apollo evidently fulfills, under Laomedon, his function as god of colonization. =85-86. _Textual._= For Pan, see =43=; for Tmolus, =76=. =Peneüs=: a river in Thessaly, which rises in Mount Pindus and flows through the wooded valley of Tempe. =Dædal=: variously adorned, variegated. Midas was king of Phrygia (see =113=). =_Illustrative._= The story of King Midas has been told by others with some variations. Dryden, in the Wife of Bath's Tale, makes Midas' queen the betrayer of the secret: This Midas knew, and durst communicate To none but to his wife his ears of state. =87. _Illustrative._= M. Arnold, Empedocles (Song of Callicles); L. Morris, Marsyas, in The Epic of Hades; Edith M. Thomas, Marsyas; E. Lee-Hamilton, Apollo and Marsyas. =_In Art._= Raphael's drawing, Apollo and Marsyas (Museum, Venice); Bordone's Apollo, Marsyas, and Midas (Dresden); the Græco-Roman sculpture, Marsyas (Louvre); Marsyas (or Dancing Faun), in the Lateran, Rome. =89. _Textual._= Daphne was a sister of Cyrene, another sweetheart of Apollo's (=145=). =Delphi=, in Phocis, and =Tenedos=, an island off the coast of Asia Minor, near Troy, were celebrated for their temples of Apollo. The latter temple was sacred to =Apollo Smintheus=, the Mouse-Apollo, probably because he had rid that country of mice as St. Patrick rid Ireland of snakes and toads. =Dido=: queen of Carthage (=252=), whose lover, Æneas, sailed away from her. =_Interpretative._= Max Müller's explanation is poetic though not philologically probable. "Daphne, or Ahanâ, means the Dawn. There is first the appearance of the dawn in the eastern sky, then the rising of the sun as if hurrying after his bride, then the gradual fading away of the bright dawn at the touch of the fiery rays of the sun, and at last her death or disappearance in the lap of her mother, the earth." The word _Daphne_ also means, in Greek, a _laurel_; hence the legend that Daphne was changed into a laurel tree (Sci. Relig., 378, 379). Others construe Daphne as the _lightning_. It is, however, very probable that the Greeks of the myth-making age, finding certain plants and flowers sacred to Apollo, would invent stories to explain why he preferred the laurel, the hyacinth, the sunflower, etc. "Such myths of metamorphoses" are, as Mr. Lang says, "an universal growth of savage fancy, and spring from a want of a sense of difference between men and things" (Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 206). =_Illustrative._= Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, II, ii; Taming of the Shrew, Induction ii; Troilus and Cressida, I, i; Milton, Comus, 59, 662; Hymn on the Nativity, II. 176-180, Vacation, 33-40; Paradise Lost, 4, 268-275; Paradise Regained, 2, 187; Lord de Tabley (Wm. Lancaster), Daphne, "All day long, In devious forest, Grove, and fountain side, The god had sought his Daphne," etc.; Lyly, King Mydas; Apollo's Song to Daphne; Frederick Tennyson, Daphne. Waller applies this story to the case of one whose amatory verses, though they did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the poet widespread fame: Yet what he sung in his immortal strain, Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain. All but the nymph that should redress his wrong, Attend his passion and approve his song. Like Ph[oe]bus thus, acquiring unsought praise, He caught at love and filled his arms with bays. =_In Art._= Fig. 67, in text; Bernini's Apollo and Daphne, in the Villa Borghese, Rome (see text, opp. p. 112). Painting: G. F. Watts' Daphne. =91. _Illustrative._= Hood, Flowers, "I will not have the mad Clytia, Whose head is turned by the sun," etc.; W. W. Story, Clytie; Mrs. A. Fields, Clytia. The so-called bust of Clytie (discovered not long ago) is possibly a representation of Isis. =93. _Textual._ Elis=: northwestern part of the Peloponnesus. =Alpheüs=: a river of Elis flowing to the Mediterranean. The river Alpheüs does in fact disappear under ground, in part of its course, finding its way through subterranean channels, till it again appears on the surface. It was said that the Sicilian fountain Arethusa was the same stream, which, after passing under the sea, came up again in Sicily. Hence the story ran that a cup thrown into the Alpheüs appeared again in the Arethusa. It is, possibly, this fable of the underground course of Alpheüs that Coleridge has in mind in his dream of Kubla Khan: In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea. In one of Moore's juvenile poems he alludes to the practice of throwing garlands or other light objects on the stream of Alpheüs, to be carried downward by it, and afterward reproduced at its emerging, "as an offering To lay at Arethusa's feet." =The Acroceraunian Mountains= are in Epirus in the northern part of Greece. It is hardly necessary to point out that a river Arethusa arising there could not possibly be approached by an Alpheüs of the Peloponnesus. Such a criticism of Shelley's sparkling verses would however be pedantic rather than just. Probably Shelley uses the word _Acroceraunian_ as synonymous with _steep_, _dangerous_. If so, he had the practice of Ovid behind him (Remedium Amoris, 739). =Mount Erymanthus=: between Arcadia and Achaia. The =Dorian= deep: the Peloponnesus was inhabited by descendants of the fabulous Dorus. =Enna=: a city in the center of Sicily. =Ortygia=: an island on which part of the city of Syracuse is built. =_Illustrative._= Milton, Arcades, 30; Lycidas, 132; Margaret J. Preston, The Flight of Arethusa; Keats, Endymion, Bk. 2, "On either side out-gushed, with misty spray, A copious spring." =95.= See genealogical table =E= for =Actæon=. In this myth Preller finds another allegory of the baleful influence of the dog days upon those exposed to the heat. Cox's theory that here we have large masses of cloud which, having dared to look upon the clear sky, are torn to pieces and scattered by the winds, is principally instructive as illustrating how far afield theorists have gone, and how easy it is to invent ingenious explanations. =_Illustrative._= Shakespeare, Merry Wives, II, i; III, ii; Titus Andronicus, II, iii; Shelley, Adonais, 31, "Midst others of less note, came one frail Form," etc., a touching allusion to himself; A. H. Clough, Actæon; L. Morris, Actæon (Epic of Hades). =96. Chios=: an island in the Ægean. =Lemnos=: another island in the Ægean, where Vulcan had a forge. =_Interpretative._= The ancients were wont to glorify in fable constellations of remarkable brilliancy or form. The heavenly adventures of =Orion= are sufficiently explained by the text. =_Illustrative._= Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 3, 31; Milton, Paradise Lost, 1, 299, "Natheless he so endured," etc.; Longfellow, Occultation of Orion; R. H. Horne, Orion; Charles Tennyson Turner, Orion (a sonnet). =97. Electra.= See genealogical table I. See same table for =Merope=, the mother of Glaucus and grandmother of Bellerophon (=155=). =_Illustrative._ Pleiads=: Milton, Paradise Lost, 7, 374; Pope, Spring, 102; Mrs. Hemans has verses on the same subject; Byron, "Like the lost Pleiad seen no more below." In modern sculpture, The Lost Pleiad of Randolph Rogers is famous; in painting, the Pleiades of Elihu Vedder (Fig. 72, in text). =98. Mount Latmos=: in Caria. Diana is sometimes called =Ph[oe]be=, the shining one. For the descendants of Endymion, the Ætolians, etc., see Table I. =_Interpretative._= According to the simplest explanation of the =Endymion= myth, the hero is the setting sun on whom the upward rising moon delights to gaze. His fifty children by Selene would then be the fifty months of the Olympiad, or Greek period of four years. Some, however, consider him to be a personification of sleep, the king whose influence comes over one in the cool caves of Latmos, "the Mount of Oblivion"; others, the growth of vegetation under the dewy moonlight; still others, euhemeristically, a young hunter, who under the moonlight followed the chase, but in the daytime slept. =_Illustrative._= The Endymion of Keats. Fletcher, in the Faithful Shepherdess, tells, "How the pale Ph[oe]be, hunting in a grove, First saw the boy Endymion," etc. Young, Night Thoughts, "So Cynthia, poets feign, In shadows veiled, ... Her shepherd cheered"; Spenser, Epithalamion, "The Latmian Shepherd," etc.; Marvel, Songs on Lord Fauconberg and the Lady Mary Cromwell (chorus, Endymion and Laura); O. W. Holmes, Metrical Essays, "And, Night's chaste empress, in her bridal play, Laughed through the foliage where Endymion lay." =_Poems._= Besides Keats' the most important are by Lowell, Longfellow, Clough (Epi Latmo, and Selene), T. B. Read, Buchanan, L. Morris (Epic of Hades). John Lyly's prose drama, Endymion, contains quaint and delicate songs. =_In Art._= Fig. 73, in text; Diana and the sleeping Endymion (Vatican). =_Paintings._= Carracci's fresco, Diana embracing Endymion (Farnese Palace, Rome); Guercino's Sleeping Endymion; G. F. Watts' Endymion. =100. _Textual._ Paphos= and =Amathus=: towns in Cyprus, of which the former contained a temple to Venus. =Cnidos= (Cnidus or Gnidus): a town in Caria, where stood a famous statue of Venus, attributed to Praxiteles. =Cytherea=: Venus, an adjective derived from her island Cythera in the Ægean Sea. =Acheron=, and =Persephone= or =Proserpine=: see =44-48=. The wind-flower of the Greeks was of bloody hue, like that of the pomegranate. It is said the wind blows the blossoms open, and afterwards scatters the petals. =_Interpretative._= Among the P[oe]nicians Venus is known as Astarte, among the Assyrians as Istar. The =Adonis= of this story is the Ph[oe]nician _Adon_, or the Hebrew _Adonai_, 'Lord.' The myth derives its origin from the Babylonian worship of Thammuz or Adon, who represents the verdure of spring, and whom his mistress, the goddess of fertility, seeks, after his death, in the lower regions. With their departure all birth and fruitage cease on the earth; but when he has been revived by sprinkling of water, and restored to his mistress and to earth, all nature again rejoices. The myth is akin to those of Linus, Hyacinthus, and Narcissus. Mannhardt (Wald-und Feld-kulte, 274), cited by Roscher, supplies the following characteristics common to such religious rites in various lands: (1) The spring is personified as a beautiful youth who is represented by an image surrounded by quickly fading flowers from the "garden of Adonis." (2) He comes in the early year and is beloved by a goddess of vegetation, goddess sometimes of the moon, sometimes of the star of Love. (3) In midsummer he dies, and during autumn and winter inhabits the underworld. (4) His burial is attended with lamentations, his resurrection with festivals. (5) These events take place in midsummer and in spring. (6) The image and the _Adonis_ plants are thrown into water. (7) Sham marriages are celebrated between pairs of worshipers. =_Illustrative._= The realistic Idyl XV of Theocritus contains a typical Psalm of Adonis, sung at Alexandria, for his resurrection. Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis; Taming of the Shrew, Induction ii; 1 Henry VI, I, vi. In Milton, Comus, 998: Beds of hyacinth and roses, Where young Adonis oft reposes, Waxing well of his deep wound, In slumber soft, and on the ground Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen. Drummond, The Statue of Adonis; Pope, Summer, 61; Winter, 24; Miscel. 7, 10; Moral Essays, 3, 73; Dunciad, 5, 202. See C. S. Calverley, Death of Adonis (Theocritus); L. Morris, Adonis (Epic of Hades). =_In Art._= Fig. 74, in text, from a Roman sarcophagus. The Dying Adonis, (sculpture), Michelangelo; the Adonis of Thorwaldsen in the Glyptothek, Munich. =101-102. _Textual._ Psyche= does not eat anything in Hades, because, by accepting the hospitality of Proserpina, she would become an inmate of her household. The scene with the lamp and knife probably indicates the infringement of some ancient matrimonial custom. =Erebus=: the land of darkness, Hades. For =Zephyr=, =Acheron=, =Cerberus=, =Charon=, etc., see Index. =_Interpretative._= The fable of Cupid and Psyche is usually regarded as allegorical. The Greek name for _butterfly_ is Psyche, and the same word means the _soul_. There is no illustration of the immortality of the soul so striking and beautiful as that of the butterfly, bursting on brilliant wings from the tomb in which it has lain, after a dull, groveling, caterpillar existence, to flutter in the blaze of day and feed on the most fragrant and delicate productions of the spring. Psyche, then, is the human soul, which is purified by sufferings and misfortunes, and is thus prepared for the enjoyment of true and pure happiness. It is probable that the story allegorizes a philosophical conception concerning _three_ stages of the soul's life: first, a former existence of bliss; second, an earthly existence of trial; third, a heavenly future of fruition. Cox, by his usual method, finds here a myth of the search for the Sun (Eros) by the Dawn (Psyche). Many of the incidents of the story will be found in modern fairy tales and romances, such as Beauty and the Beast, Grimm's Twelve Brothers; the Gaelic stories: The Three Daughters of King O'Hara; Fair, Brown, and Trembling; The Daughter of the Skies; and the Norse tale--East of the Sun and West of the Moon. See Cox 1, 403-411. =_Illustrative._= Thomas Moore, Cupid and Psyche; Mrs. Browning, Psyche, Paraphrase on Apuleius; L. Morris, in The Epic of Hades; Frederick Tennyson, Psyche; Robert Bridges, Eros and Psyche. Most important is W. H. Pater's Marius the Epicurean, which contains the story as given by Apuleius. =_In Art._= Psyche is represented as a maiden with the wings of a butterfly, in the different situations described in the allegory. The Græco-Roman sculpture of Cupid and Psyche, in the Capitol at Rome, is of surpassing beauty; so also is Canova's Cupid and Psyche. =_Paintings._= Raphael's frescoes in the Farnesina Villa, twelve in number, illustrating the story; François Gérard's Cupid and Psyche; Paul Thumann's nine illustrations of the story (see Figs. 75, 76, in text); R. Beyschlag's Psyche with the Urn, Psyche Grieving, and Psyche and Pan; W. Kray's Psyche and Zephyr; Psyche: by A. de Curzon; by G. F. Watts, a series of three illustrations by H. Bates. The Charon and Psyche of E. Neide is a sentimental, simpering conception. A. Zick also has a Psyche. =_103._= According to another tradition, =Atalanta's= love was Milanion. The nuptial vow was ratified by Hera (Juno). This, the B[oe]otian, Atalanta is sometimes identified with the Arcadian Atalanta of the Calydonian Hunt. (See =168= and Table D). It is better to discriminate between them. The genealogy of this Atalanta will be seen in Tables G and I. =_Illustrative._= W. Morris, Atalanta's Race (Earthly Paradise); Moore, Rhymes on the Road, on Alpine Scenery,--an allusion to Hippomenes. =_In Art._= Painting by E. J. Poynter, Atalanta's Race (Fig. 78, in text); and Guido Reni's brilliant picture of the same subject. =104. _Textual_= and =_Illustrative._= The story of =Hero and Leander= is the subject of a romantic poem by Musæus, a grammarian of Alexandria, who lived in the fifth century A.D. This author, in distinction from the mythical poet of the same name, is styled the Pseudo-Musæus. The _epyllion_ has been translated by Sir Robert Stapylton, Sir Edwin Arnold, and others. The feat of swimming the Hellespont was performed by Lord Byron. The distance in the narrowest part is not more than a mile, but there is a constant dangerous current setting out from the Sea of Marmora into the Archipelago. For an allusion to the story see Byron, Bride of Abydos, Canto II. For Byron's statement concerning the breadth of the water see footnote to "Stanzas written after swimming from Sestos to Abydos." =_Poems._ Hero and Leander=: by Leigh Hunt, by Tom Hood, by Moore; sonnet by D. G. Rossetti, Hero's Lamp (House of Life); a poem not in later editions of Tennyson, Hero to Leander, 1830; Chapman's continuation of Marlowe's Hero and Leander. =_Paintings._= G. von Bodenhausen; F. Keller (Fig. 79, in text). =105. _Interpretative._= Another illustration of the vivifying influence of love. Preller deems Pygmalion's story nearly akin to the Adonis myth. He regards the festival of Venus, during which the statue of Galatea (or passive love) receives life, as the usual Adonis-festival. TABLE G. THE CONNECTIONS OF ATALANTA THE B[OE]OTIAN =Prometheus= +-- Deucalion =Pyrrha +-- Hellen +-- Æolus | +-- Other sons (See Table I) | +-- Athamas | | =Nephele | | +-- =Helle= | | +-- Phryxus | | =Ino | | +-- Melicertes | | =Themisto | | +-- =Sch[oe]nus= of B[oe]otia | | +-- =Atalanta= (Hippomenes) | +-- Sisyphus (Merope) | | +-- =Glaucus= | | +-- =Bellerophon= | +-- Salmoneus | | +-- Tyro | | =Neptune | | +-- Neleus | | | +-- Nestor | | | | +-- Antilochus | | | +-- Pero | | | =Bias | | | +-- Talaüs | | | +-- Adrastus | | | +-- Eriphyle | | | =Amphiaraüs | | | +-- Alcmæon | | | | =Arsinoë | | | +-- Amphilochus | | +-- Pelias | | +-- =Evadne= | | +-- Acastus | | | +-- =Laodamia= | | | =Protesilaüs | | +-- =Alcestis= | | ==Admetus= | | =Cretheus | | +-- Pheres | | | +-- =Admetus= | | | ==Alcestis= | | +-- Æson | | | +-- =Jason= | | +-- Amythaon | | +-- Bias | | | =Pero | | | +-- Talaüs (see above) | | +-- Melampus (the Prophet) | | +-- Antiphates | | +-- Oïcles | | =Hypermnestra | | +-- Amphiaraüs | | =Eriphyle | | +-- Alcmæon (see above) | | +-- Amphilochus (see above) | +-- Cretheus | =Tyro | +-- Pheres (see above) | +-- Æson (see above) | +-- Amythaon (see above) +-- Dorus +-- Xuthus +-- Achæus +-- Ion =Epimetheus= ==Pandora= +-- Pyrrha =Deucalion +-- Hellen (see above) =_Illustrative._= Thomson, Castle of Indolence, 2, 12; R. Buchanan, Pygmalion the Sculptor; Morris, and Lang, as in text; Pygmalion: by T. L. Beddoes, by W. C. Bennett. The seventeenth-century satirist, Marston, wrote a Pygmalion, of no great worth. Frederick Tennyson, Pygmalion (in Daphne and other Poems); Arthur Henry Hallam, Lines spoken in the Character of Pygmalion; Thomas Woolner, Pygmalion. =_In Art._= The Pygmalion series of four scenes, by E. Burne-Jones. =106. _Textual._ Semiramis=: wife of King Ninus and the queen of Assyria. Famous for her administrative and military ability. A mythical character with features of historic probability. =_Illustrative._= Chaucer, Thisbe, the Martyr of Babylon (Legende of Good Women). Allusions in Surrey, Of the Death of Sir Thomas Wyatt; Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, III, ii; V, i; Merchant of Venice, V, i. Moore, in the Sylph's Ball, draws a comparison between Thisbe's wall and the gauze of Davy's safety lamp. Mickle's translation of the Lusiad (Island of Love). =_In Art._= Burne-Jones' three paintings, Cupid, Pyramus, and Thisbe (Fig. 80, in text); E. J. Paupion's painting, Thisbe. =107. _Textual._ Lesbos= and =Chios=: islands in the Ægean. For =Sappho= see =298= (3). =_Illustrative._= The second lyric of Sappho, beginning "Like to the gods he seems to me, The man that sits reclined by thee," has been translated by Phillips, by Fawkes, and by recent poets. The reference is probably to Phaon. Allusions in Pope, Moral Essays, 3, 121; 2, 24; Prologue to Satires, 309, 101; Byron's Isles of Greece, already referred to. Compare the translation in Catullus, LI. =_Poems_= on Sappho or on Phaon: Charles Kingsley, Sappho; Buchanan, Sappho on the Leucadian Rock; Landor,--Sappho, Alcæus, Anacreon, and Phaon; Frederick Tennyson, Kleïs or the Return (in the Isles of Greece). See also Lyly's amusing prose drama, Sappho and Phao. =109. _Textual._ Mount Cyllene=: between Arcadia and Achæa. =Pierian Mountains=: in Macedonia, directly north of Thessaly; the birthplace of the Muses. =Pylos=: an ancient city of Elis. =_Interpretative._= On the supposition that the herds of Apollo are the bright rays of the sun, a plausible physical explanation of the relations of =Mercury= (Hermes) to Apollo is the following from Max Müller: "Hermes is the god of the twilight, who betrays his equivocal nature by stealing, though only in fun, the herds of Apollo, but restoring them without the violent combat that (in the analogous Indian story) is waged for the herds between Indra, the bright god, and Vala, the robber. In India the dawn brings the light; in Greece the twilight itself is supposed to have stolen it, or to hold back the light, and Hermes, the twilight, surrenders the booty when challenged by the sun-god Apollo" (Lect. on Lang., 2 Ser., 521-522). Hermes is connected by Professor Müller with the Vedic god _Sarameya_, son of the twilight. Mercury, or Hermes, as morning or as evening twilight, loves the Dew, is herald of the gods, is spy of the night, is sender of sleep and dreams, is accompanied by the cock, herald of dawn, is the guide of the departed on their last journey. To the conception of twilight, Cox adds that of _motion_, and explains Hermes as the _air in motion_ that springs up with the dawn, gains rapidly in force, sweeps before it the _clouds_ (here the cattle of Apollo), makes soft music through the trees (lyre), etc. Other theorists make Hermes the Divine Activity, the god of the ether, of clouds, of storm, etc. Though the explanations of Professor Müller and the Rev. Sir G. W. Cox are more satisfactory here than usual, Roscher's _the swift wind_ is scientifically preferable. =_Illustrative._= See Shelley, Homeric Hymn to Mercury, on which the text of this section is based, and passages in Prometheus Unbound; Keats, Ode to Maia. =_In Art._= The intent of the disguise in Fig. 81 (text) is to deceive Demeter with a sham sacrifice. =110-112. _Textual._= See Table E, for Bacchus, Pentheus, etc. =Nysa= "has been identified as a mountain in Thrace, in B[oe]otia, in Arabia, India, Libya; and Naxos, as a town in Caria or the Caucasus, and as an island in the Nile." =Thebes=: the capital of B[oe]otia. =Mæonia=: Lydia, in Asia Minor. =Dia=: Naxos, the largest of the Cyclades Islands in the Ægean. =Mount Cithæron=: in B[oe]otia. The =Thyrsus= was a wand, wreathed with ivy and surmounted by a pine cone, carried by Bacchus and his votaries. =Mænads= and =Bacchantes= were female followers of Bacchus. =Bacchanal= is a general term for his devotees. =_Interpretative._= "=Bacchus= (Dionysus) is regarded by many as the _spiritual form_ of the new vernal life, the sap and pulse of vegetation and of the new-born year, especially as manifest in the vine and juice of the grape."--LANG, Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 221 (from Preller 1, 554). The =Hyades= (rain-stars), that nurtured the deity, perhaps symbolize the rains that nourish sprouting vegetation. He became identified very soon with the _spirituous effects_ of the vine. His sufferings may typify the "ruin of the summer year at the hands of storm and winter," or, perhaps, the agony of the bleeding grapes in the wine press. The orgies would, according to this theory, be a survival of the ungoverned actions of savages when celebrating a festival in honor of the deity of plenty, of harvest home, and of intoxication. But in cultivated Greece, Dionysus, in spite of the surviving orgiastic ceremonies, is a poetic incarnation of blithe, changeable, spirited youth. See Lang, Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 221-241. That =Rhea= taught him would account for the Oriental nature of his rites; for Rhea is an Eastern deity by origin. The opposition of =Pentheus= would indicate the reluctance with which the Greeks adopted his doctrine and ceremonial. The Dionysiac worship came from Thrace, a barbarous clime;--but wandering, like the springtide, over the earth, Bacchus conquered each nation in turn. It is probable that the Dionysus-Iacchus cult was one of evangelical enthusiasm and individual cleansing from sin, of ideals in this life and of personal immortality in the next. By introducing it into Greece, Pisistratus reformed the exclusive ritual of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Of the =Festivals of Dionysus=, the more important in Attica were the Lesser Dionysia, in December; the Lenæa, in January; the Anthesteria, or spring festival, in February; and the Great Dionysia, in March. These all, in greater or less degree, witnessed of the culture and the glories of the vine, and of the reawakening of the spirits of vegetation. They were celebrated, as the case might be, with a sacrifice of a victim in reminiscence of the blood by which the spirits of the departed were supposed to be nourished, with processions of women, profusion of flowers, orgiastic songs and dances, or dramatic representations. =_Illustrative._ Bacchus=: Milton, Comus, 46. =Pentheus=: Landor, The Last Fruit of an Old Tree; H. H. Milman, The Bacchanals of Euripides; Calverley's and Lang's translations of Theocritus, Idyl XXVI; Thomas Love Peacock, Rhododaphne: The Vengeance of Bacchus; B. W. Procter, Bacchanalian Song. =Naxos=: Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 275. _=In Art.=_ Figs. 31, 82-87, 143, in text. =113. _Textual._= Hesperides, see Index. =River Pactolus=: in Lydia. =Midas=: the son of one Gordius, who from a farmer had become king of Phrygia, because he happened to fulfill a prophecy by entering the public square of some city just as the people were casting about for a king. He tied his wagon in the temple of the prophetic deity with the celebrated =Gordian Knot=, which none but the future lord of Asia might undo. Alexander the Great undid the knot with his sword. _=Interpretative.=_ An ingenious, but not highly probable, theory explains the golden touch of Midas as the rising sun that gilds all things, and his bathing in Pactolus as the quenching of the sun's splendor in the western ocean. =Midas= is fabled to have been the son of the "great mother," Cybele, whose worship in Phrygia was closely related to that of Bacchus or Dionysus. The =Sileni= were there regarded as tutelary _genii_ of the rivers and springs, promoting fertility of the soil. =Marsyas=, an inspired musician in the service of Cybele, was naturally associated in fable with Midas. The ass being the favorite animal of Silenus, the ass's ears of Midas merely symbolize his fondness for and devotion to such habits as were attributed to the Sileni. The ass, by the way, was reverenced in Phrygia; the acquisition of ass's ears may therefore have been originally a glory, not a disgrace. _=Illustrative.=_ John Lyly, Play of Mydas, especially the song, "Sing to Apollo, god of day"; Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, III, ii (casket scene); Pope, Dunciad, 3, 342; Prologue to Satires, 82; Swift, The Fable of Midas; J. G. Saxe, The Choice of King Midas (a travesty). =Gordian Knot=: Henry V, I, i; Cymbeline, II, ii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 348; Vacation, 90. =Pactolus=: Pope, Spring, 61; allusions also to the sisters of Phaëthon. =Silenus=, by W. S. Landor. =114-117. _Textual._ Mount Eryx=, the vale of =Enna=, and =Cyane= are in Sicily. =Eleusis=: in Attica. For =Arethusa= see Index. =_Interpretative._= The Italian goddess Ceres assumed the attributes of the Greek Demeter in 496 B.C. Proserpine signifies the seed-corn which, when cast into the ground, lies there concealed,--is carried off by the god of the underworld; when the corn reappears, Proserpine is restored to her mother. Spring leads her back to the light of day. The following, from Aubrey De Vere's Introduction to his Search for Proserpine, is suggestive: "Of all the beautiful fictions of Greek Mythology, there are few more exquisite than the story of Proserpine, and none deeper in symbolical meaning. Considering the fable with reference to the physical world, Bacon says, in his Wisdom of the Ancients, that by the Rape of Proserpine is signified the disappearance of flowers at the end of the year, when the vital juices are, as it were, drawn down to the central darkness, and held there in bondage. Following up this view of the subject, the Search of her Mother, sad and unavailing as it was, would seem no unfit emblem of Autumn and the restless melancholy of the season; while the hope with which the Goddess was finally cheered may perhaps remind us of that unexpected return of fine weather which occurs so frequently, like an omen of Spring, just before Winter closes in. The fable has, however, its moral significance also, being connected with that great mystery of Joy and Grief, of Life and Death, which pressed so heavily on the mind of Pagan Greece, and imparts to the whole of her mythology a profound interest, spiritual as well as philosophical. It was the restoration of Man, not of flowers, the victory over Death, not over Winter, with which that high Intelligence felt itself to be really concerned." In Greece two kinds of =Festivals=, the =Eleusinia= and the =Thesmophoria=, were held in honor of Demeter and Persephone. The former was divided into the lesser, celebrated in February, and the greater (lasting nine days), in September. Distinction must be made between the Festivals and the Mysteries of Eleusis. In the Festivals all classes might participate. Those of the Spring represented the restoration of Persephone to her mother; those of the Autumn the rape of Persephone. An image of the youthful Iacchus (Bacchus) headed the procession in its march toward Eleusis. At that place and in the neighborhood were enacted in realistic fashion the wanderings and the sufferings of Demeter, the scenes in the house of Celeus, and finally the successful conclusion of the search for Persephone. The =Mysteries= of Eleusis were witnessed only by the initiated, and were invested with a veil of secrecy which has never been fully withdrawn. The initiates passed through certain symbolic ceremonies from one degree of mystic enlightenment to another till the highest was attained. The Lesser Mysteries were an introduction to the Greater; and it is known that the rites involved partook of the nature of purification from passion, crime, and the various degradations of human existence. By pious contemplation of the dramatic scenes presenting the sorrows of Demeter, and by participation in sacramental rites, it is probable that the initiated were instructed in the nature of life and death, and consoled with the hope of immortality (Preller). On the development of the Eleusinian Mysteries from the savage to the civilized ceremonial, see Lang, Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 275, and Lobeck, Aglaophamus, 133. The =Thesmophoria= were celebrated by married women in honor of Ceres (Demeter), and referred to institutions of married life. That Proserpine should be under bonds to the underworld because she had partaken of food in Hades accords with a superstition not peculiar to the Greeks, but to be "found in New Zealand, Melanesia, Scotland, Finland, and among the Ojibbeways" (Lang, Myth, Ritual, etc., 2, 273). =_Illustrative._= Aubrey De Vere, as above; B. W. Procter, The Rape of Proserpine; R. H. Stoddard, The Search for Persephone; G. Meredith, The Appeasement of Demeter; Tennyson, Demeter and Persephone; Dora Greenwell, Demeter and Cora; T. L. Beddoes, Song of the Stygian Naiades; A. C. Swinburne, Song to Proserpine. See also notes under Persephone, =44=, Demeter and Pluto. =Eleusis=: Schiller, Festival of Eleusis, translated by N. L. Frothingham; At Eleusis, by Swinburne. See, for poetical reference, Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 269, "Not that fair field Of Enna," etc.; Hood, Ode to Melancholy: Forgive if somewhile I forget, In woe to come the present bliss; As frighted Proserpine let fall Her flowers at the sight of Dis. _=In Art.=_ Bernini's Pluto and Proserpine (sculpture); P. Schobelt's Rape of Proserpine (picture). Eleusinian relief: Demeter, Cora, Triptolemus (Athens); and other figures, as in text. =118. _Textual._ Tænarus=: in Laconia. For the crime of =Tantalus=, see =78=. In Hades he stood up to his neck in water which receded when he would drink; grapes hanging above his head withdrew when he would pluck them; while a great rock was forever just about to fall upon him. =Ixion=, for an insult to Juno, was lashed with serpents or brazen bands to an ever-revolving wheel. =Sisyphus=, for his treachery to the gods, vainly rolled a stone toward the top of a hill (see =255=). For the =Danaïds=, see =150=; =Cerberus=, =44=, =255=. =The Dynast's bond=: the contract with Pluto, who was Dynast or tyrant of Hades. =Ferry-guard=: Charon. =Strymon= and =Hebrus=: rivers of Thrace. =Libethra=: a city on the side of Mount Olympus, between Thessaly and Macedonia. =_Interpretative._ The loss of Eurydice= may signify (like the death of Adonis and the rape of Proserpine) the departure of spring. Max Müller, however, identifies _Orpheus_ with the Sanskrit _Arbhu_, used as a name for the Sun (Chips, etc., 2, 127). According to this explanation the Sun follows Eurydice, "the wide-spreading flush of the dawn who has been stung by the serpent of night," into the regions of darkness. There he recovers Eurydice, but while he looks back upon her she fades before his gaze, as the mists of morning vanish before the glory of the rising sun (Cox). It might be more consistent to construe _Eurydice_ as the _twilight_, first, of evening which is slain by night, then, of morning which is dissipated by sunrise. Cox finds in the music of Orpheus the delicious strains of the breezes which accompany sunrise and sunset. The story should be compared with that of Apollo and Daphne, and of Mercury and Apollo. The Irish tale, The Three Daughters of King O'Hara, reverses the relation of Orpheus and Eurydice. See Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, Boston, 1890. =_Illustrative._ Orpheus=: Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona, III, ii; Merchant of Venice, V, i; Henry VIII, III, i (song); Milton, Lycidas, 58; L'Allegro, 145; Il Penseroso, 105; Pope, Ode on St. Cecilia's Day (Eurydice); Summer, 81; Southey, Thalaba (The Nightingale's Song over the Grave of Orpheus). =_Poems._= Wordsworth, The Power of Music; Shelley, Orpheus, a fragment; Browning, Eurydice and Orpheus; Wm. Morris, Orpheus and the Sirens (Life and Death of Jason); L. Morris, Orpheus, Eurydice (Epic of Hades); Lowell, Eurydice; E. Dowden, Eurydice; W.B. Scott, Eurydice; E.W. Gosse, The Waking of Eurydice; R. Buchanan, Orpheus, the Musician; J.G. Saxe, Travesty of Orpheus and Eurydice. On =Tantalus= and =Sisyphus=, see Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 5, 31-35; L. Morris, Epic of Hades. _=In Art.=_ A Relief on a tombstone in the National Museum, Naples, of Mercury, Orpheus, and Eurydice. There is also a copy in Paris of the marble in the Villa Albani, Rome. (See Fig. 94, text.) Paintings: Fig. 93, in text, by Sir Frederick Leighton; by Robert Beyschlag; by G.F. Watts; The Story of Orpheus, a series of ten paintings, by E. Burne-Jones. =119-120. _Textual._ Troy=: the capital of Troas in Asia Minor, situated between the rivers Scamander and Simois. Famous for the siege conducted by the Greeks under Agamemnon, Menelaüs, etc. (See Chap. XXII.) =Amymone=: a fountain of Argolis. =Enipeus=: a river of Macedonia. _=Interpretative.=_ The monsters that wreak the vengeance of Neptune are, of course, his destructive storms and lashing waves. =121.= For genealogy of Pelops, etc., see Tables F and I. For the misfortunes of the Pelopidæ, see =193=. _=Illustrative in Art.=_ Pelops and Hippodamia; vase pictures (Monuments inédits, Rome, and Paris). East pediment, Temple of Zeus, Olympia. =123-124. _Textual._ Cephalus=, the son of Mercury (Hermes) and Herse, is irretrievably confounded with Cephalus, the son of Deïon and grandson of Æolus I. The former should, strictly, be regarded as the lover of Aurora (Eos); the latter is the husband of Procris, and the great-grandfather of Ulysses. (See Tables H, I, and O (4).) =_Interpretative._ Procris= is the dewdrop (from Greek _Pr[=o]x_, 'dew') which reflects the shining rays of the sun. The "head of the day," or the rising sun, Cephalus, is also wooed by Aurora, the Dawn, but flies from her. The Sun slays the dew with the same gleaming darts that the dew reflects, or gives back to him. According to Preller, Cephalus is the morning-star beloved alike by Procris, the moon, and by Aurora, the dawn. The concealment of Procris in the forest and her death would, then, signify the paling of the moon before the approaching day. Hardly so probable as the former explanation. =_Illustrative._ Aurora=: Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 2, 7; 1, 4, 16; Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, III, ii; Romeo and Juliet, I, i; Milton, Paradise Lost, 5, 6, "Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime Advancing," etc.; L'Allegro, 19; Landor, Gebir, "Now to Aurora borne by dappled steeds, The sacred gates of orient pearl and gold ... Expanded slow," etc. =Cephalus= and =Procris=: in Moore, Legendary Ballads; Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, "Shafalus and Procrus"; A. Dobson, The Death of Procris. =_In Art._ Aurora=: Figs. 97 and 99, as in text; paintings, by Guido Reni, as Fig. 98 in text, and by J.L. Hamon, and Guercino. Procris and Cephalus, by Turner. L'Aurore et Céphale, painted by P. Guérin, 1810, engraved by F. Forster, 1821. =125. _Textual._ Cimmerian= country: a fabulous land in the far west, near Hades; or, perhaps, in the north, for the people dwell by the ocean that is never visited by sunlight (Odyssey, 11, 14-19). Other sons of Somnus are =Icelus=, who personates birds, beasts, and serpents, and =Phantasus=, who assumes the forms of rocks, streams, and other inanimate things. The accompanying table will indicate the connections and descendants of Aurora. =_Interpretative._= According to one account, =Ceyx= and =Halcyone=, by likening their wedded happiness to that of Jupiter and Juno, incurred the displeasure of the gods. The myth springs from observation of the habits of the Halcyone-bird, which nests on the strand and is frequently bereft of its young by the winter waves. The comparison with the glory of Jupiter and Juno is suggested by the splendid iris hues of the birds. Halcyone days have become proverbial as seasons of calm. =Æolus I=, the son of Hellen, is here identified with =Æolus III=, the king of the winds. According to Diodorus, the latter is a descendant, in the fifth generation, of the former. (See Genealogical Table I.) _=Illustrative.=_ Chaucer, The Dethe of Blaunche; E. W. Gosse, Alcyone (a sonnet in dialogue); F. Tennyson, Halcyone; Edith M. Thomas, The Kingfisher; Margaret J. Preston, Alcyone. =Morpheus=: see Milton, Il Penseroso; Pope, Ode on St. Cecilia's Day. =126-127. _Interpretative._ Tithonus= may be the day in its ever-recurring circuit of morning freshness, noon heat, final withering and decay (Preller); or the gray glimmer of the heavens overspread by the first ruddy flush of morning (Welcker); or, as a solar myth, the sun in his setting and waning,--_Tithonus_ meaning, by derivation, the illuminator (Max Müller). The sleep of Tithonus in his ocean-bed, and his transformation into a grasshopper, would then typify the presumable weariness and weakness of the sun at night. =_Illustrative._= Spenser, Epithalamion; Faerie Queene, 1, 11, 51. =128. _Textual._ Mysia=: province of Asia Minor, south of the Propontis, or Sea of Marmora. There is some doubt about the identification of the existing statue with that described by the ancients, and the mysterious sounds are still more doubtful. Yet there is not wanting modern testimony to their being still audible. It has been suggested that sounds produced by confined air making its escape from crevices or caverns in the rocks may have given some ground for the story. Sir Gardner Wilkinson, a traveler of the highest authority, examined the statue itself, and discovered that it was hollow, and that "in the lap of the statue is a stone, which, on being struck, emits a metallic sound that might still be made use of to deceive a visitor who was predisposed to believe its powers." TABLE H. THE ANCIENT RACE OF LUMINARIES AND WINDS =Hyperion= ==Thea= +-- Helios | =Perseïs | +-- Æetes | | =Hecate | | +-- Medea | | +-- Absyrtus | +-- Circe +-- Selene (Diana) | =Endymion +-- =Eos (Aurora)= =Astræus +-- Zephyrus W. Winds +-- Boreas N. " +-- Notus S. " +-- Eurus E. " ==Cephalus= +-- Phosphor (Morning Star) +-- =Ceyx= ==Halcyone= ==Tithonus= +-- =Memnon= Hermes =Herse +-- =Cephalus= ==Eos (Aurora)= +-- Phosphor (Morning Star) (see above) Æolus I +-- =Halcyone= ==Ceyx= =_Interpretative._ Memnon= is generally represented as of dark features, lighted with the animation of glorious youth. He is king of the mythical Æthiopians who lived in the land of gloaming, where east and west met, and whose name signifies "dark splendor." His birth in this borderland of light and darkness signifies either his existence as king of an eastern land or his identity with the young sun, and strengthens the theory according to which his father Tithonus is the gray glimmer of the morning heavens. The flocks of birds have been explained as the glowing clouds that meet in battle over the body of the dead sun. =_Illustrative._= Milton, Il Penseroso; Drummond, Summons to Love, "Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed"; Akenside, Pleasures of the Imagination (analogy between Memnonian music and spiritual appreciation of truth); Landor, Miscellaneous Poems, 59, "Exposed and lonely genius stands, Like Memnon in the Egyptian sands," etc. =_In Art._= Fig. 101, from a vase in the Louvre. =129-130. _Textual._ Doric pillar=: the three styles of pillars in Greek architecture were Dorian, Ionic, Corinthian (see English Dictionary). =Trinacria=: Sicily, from its _three promontories_. =Ægon= and =Daphnis=: idyllic names of Sicilian shepherds (see Idyls of Theocritus and Virgil's Eclogues). =Naïs=: a water-nymph. For Cyclops, Galatea, Silenus, Fauns, Arethusa, see Index. Compare, with the conception of Stedman's poem, Wordsworth's Power of Music. =_Illustrative._= Ben Jonson, =Pan's= anniversary; Milton, Paradise Lost, 4. 266, 707; Paradise Regained, 2, 190; Comus, 176, 268; Pope, Autumn, 81; Windsor Forest, 37, 183; Summer, 50; Dunciad, 3, 110; Akenside, Pleasures of Imagination, "Fair Tempe! haunt beloved of sylvan Powers," etc.; On Leaving Holland, 1, 2. =_Poems_=: Fletcher, Song of the Priest of Pan, and Song of Pan (in The Faithful Shepherdess); Landor, Pan and Pitys, "Pan led me to a wood the other day," etc.; Landor, Cupid and Pan; R. Buchanan, Pan; Browning, Pan and Luna; Swinburne, Pan and Thalassius; Hon. Roden Noël, Pan, in the Modern Faust. Of course Mrs. Browning's Dead Pan cannot be appreciated unless read as a whole; nor Schiller's Gods of Greece. =131. Fauns.= Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 708; 10. 573, 597; 11. 472, 788; Paradise Regained, 2, 257; Mrs. Browning, Flush or Faunus (sonnet). =Dryads=: Pope, Moral Essays, 4, 94; Winter, 12; Collins, The Passions; Keats, Nightingale, Psyche. =Satyrs=: Milton, Lycidas; Dryden, Mrs. Anne Killigrew, 6; Hawthorne, Marble Faun. =_In Art._ Fauns= (sculpture): The Barberini Faun (Munich); the Drunken Faun, Sleeping Faun, Faun and Bacchus, and Dancing Faun (National Museum, Naples); the Dancing Faun (Lateran, Rome); the so-called Faun of Praxiteles or Marble Faun (Fig. 106 in text--a Satyr--best copy in the Capitoline, Rome). =Pan= and =Apollo=: Græco-Roman sculpture (Museum, Naples). =Pan=: Fig. 102, in text; and Fig. 103, from an original perhaps of the School of Scopas or Praxiteles (Florence). Silenus and Bacchus (Glyptothek, Munich). =Nymphs= (pictures): Bouguereau, Nymphs and Satyr, and Nymphs; Burne-Jones, Nymphs; Giorgione, Nymphs pursued by a Satyr. =Satyrs=: Michelangelo (picture) (Uffizi, Florence), Mask of a Satyr; Rubens, Satyrs (Munich); Satyrs (sculpture), relief from theater of Dionysus; Satyr playing a flute (Vatican); and Figs. 103, 104, and 106-108 in the text. =132-133. _Textual._ Cephissus=: four rivers in Phocis, Attica, and Argolis bear this name. The most famous runs near Athens. =_Illustrative._ Echo=: Chaucer, Romaunt of the Rose, 1468 _et seq._; Spenser, Prothalamion; Milton, Comus, 237; Collins, The Passions. =_Poems_=: L. Morris (Epic of Hades), Narcissus; Goldsmith, On a Beautiful Youth, etc.; Cowper, On an Ugly Fellow; Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 449-470 (illus.); and Comus. =_In Art_=: Narcissus (sculpture), and Fig. 109, in text (Museum, Naples). =137. Dryope= (poem), by W. S. Landor. =138. Rh[oe]cus.= Poems by Landor, The Hamadryad; Acon and Rhodope. =139. Pomona.= Phillips, a poem on Cider. See Index. =_In Art_=: the painting by J. E. Millais. =_Interpretative._= The various guises and transformations of Vertumnus signify the succession of the seasons and the changing characteristics of each. The name itself implies _turning_, or _change_. =140. _Textual._= In order to understand the story of Ibycus, it is necessary to remember, first, that the theaters of the ancients were immense fabrics, capable of containing from ten to thirty thousand spectators, and as they were used only on festal occasions and admission was free to all, they were usually filled. They were without roofs and open to the sky, and performances were in the daytime. Secondly, that the appalling representation of the Furies is not exaggerated in the story. It is fabled that Æschylus, the tragic poet, having on one occasion represented the Furies in a chorus of fifty performers, the terror of the spectators was such that many fainted and were thrown into convulsions, and the magistrates forbade a like representation for the future (Pollux, 4, 110). Usually the chorus in a single tragedy consisted of only fifteen performers. =_Illustrative._= On the =Furies= see =C. 49=. On =Ibycus= see translation of Schiller's Cranes of Ibycus, by E. A. Bowring. =141. _Textual._= The adventures of the water-divinities turn largely on the idea of metamorphosis, which would readily be suggested to the imaginative mind by contemplation of the ever-changing aspect of fountain, stream, lake, or ocean. For genealogies of water-deities, see Table C. =_Interpretative._= The Cyclops, =Polyphemus=, does not possess much in common with Steropes, Brontes, and Arges, the offspring of Uranus and Gæa, save his one eye and his monstrous size. The sons of Gæa are personifications of thunder and lightning; Polyphemus is the heavy vapor that rolls its clouds along the hillside. The clouds are the sheep that he pastures; the sun glowering through the vapor is his single eye (Cox). More probably he is a mere giant of folklore. =_Illustrative._= John Gay, Song of Polypheme (in Acis and Galatea); A. Dobson, A Tale of Polypheme; R. Buchanan, Polypheme's Passion; Shelley, The Cyclops of Euripides; Translations of Theocritus by Mrs. Browning and by Calverley; J. S. Blackie, Galatea; B. W. Procter, The Death of Acis. See also on the =Cyclops=, Shakespeare, Titus Andronicus, IV, iii; Hamlet, II, ii. =_In Art._= Fig. 112, text; Carracci's frescoes in the Farnese Palace, Rome, of Polyphemus, Acis and Galatea; Claude Lorrain's painting, Evening, Acis and Galatea; Raphael's Triumph of Galatea. =142. _Textual._= For descent of Glaucus, see Tables G and I. For Scylla's descent, see Table C. See Keats, Endymion, Bk. 3. =_Interpretative._= Glaucus is explained by some as the calm gleaming sea; by others, as the angry sea that reflects the lowering heavens (see Roscher, p. 1690). Scylla is a personification of treacherous currents and shallows among jagged cliffs and hidden rocks. =144.= For genealogy of Ino, see Table E. "Leucothea waked, and with fresh dews embalmed The Earth" (Milton, Paradise Lost, 11, 135). =145. Cyrene= was sister to Daphne. Honey must first have been known as a wild product, the bees building their structures in hollow trees, or holes in the rocks, or any similar cavity that chance offered. Thus occasionally the carcass of a dead animal would be occupied by the bees for that purpose. It was no doubt from some such incident that the superstition arose that bees were engendered by the decaying flesh of the animal. Virgil assigns to Proteus the isle of Carpathus, between Crete and Rhodes; Homer, the isle of Pharus, near the river Nile. =_Illustrative._= See =C. 50=. Proteus, a poem by R. Buchanan. On =Aristæus=, Cowper's Task, comparison of the ice-palace of Empress Anne of Russia with Cyrene's palace. Milton probably thought of Cyrene in describing Sabrina (Comus). He calls Proteus "the Carpathian Wizard." =146-147. _Textual._ Acheloüs=: the largest river in Greece, rose in Mount Lacmon, flowed between Acarnania and Ætolia, and emptied into the Ionian Sea. It was honored over all Greece. =Calydon=: a city of Ætolia, famed for the Calydonian Hunt. =Parthenope=, see =238. Ligea= (Ligeia): the _shrill-sounding maiden_; here a Siren; sometimes a Dryad. =_Interpretative._= Even among the ancients such stories as this were explained on a physical basis: the river Acheloüs flows through the realm of Dejanira, hence Acheloüs loves Dejanira. When the river winds it is a snake, when it roars it is a bull, when it overflows its banks it puts forth new horns. Hercules is supposed to have regulated the course of the stream by confining it within a new and suitable channel. At the same time the old channel, redeemed from the stream, subjected to cultivation, and blossoming with flowers, might well be called a _horn of plenty_. There is another account of the origin of the Cornucopia. Jupiter at his birth was committed by his mother Rhea to the care of the daughters of Melisseus, a Cretan king. They fed the infant deity with the milk of the goat Amalthea. Jupiter, breaking off one of the horns of the goat, gave it to his nurses, and endowed it with the power of becoming filled with whatever the possessor might wish. =148.= (5) TABLE I. THE RACE OF IAPETUS, DEUCALION, ATLAS, AND HELLEN =Uranus= =Gæa +-- =Iapetus= +-- =Epimethius= | ==Pandora= | +-- =Pyrrha= | =Deucalion | +-- =Hellen= | +-- =Æolus I= | | +-- Calyce | | | +-- =Endymion= | | | +-- Eurycyde | | | | +-- Eleüs | | | | +-- =Augeas= | | | +-- =Ætolus= | | | +-- Calydon | | | | +-- Epicaste | | | | =Agenor | | | | +-- Demonice | | | | | =Mars | | | | | +-- Thestius | | | | | +-- Hypermnestra | | | | | | =Oïcles | | | | | | +-- =Amphiaraüs= | | | | | | ==Eriphyle= | | | | | | +-- =Alcmæon= | | | | | | | =Arsinoë | | | | | | +--Amphilochus | | | | | +-- =Althæa= | | | | | | ==[OE]neus= | | | | | | +-- =Meleager= | | | | | | +-- =Dejanira= | | | | | | =Hercules | | | | | | +-- Hyllus | | | | | +-- =Leda= | | | | | | ==Tyndareus= | | | | | | +-- =Castor= | | | | | | +-- =Clytemnestra= | | | | | | ==Agamemnon= | | | | | | =Jove | | | | | | +-- =Pollux= | | | | | | +-- =Helen= | | | | | | =Paris | | | | | +-- Plexippus | | | | | +-- Toxeus (?) | | | | +-- Porthaon | | | | +-- Agrius | | | | | +-- Melanippus | | | | | +-- Thersites | | | | +-- =[OE]neus= | | | | =Perib[oe]a | | | | +-- =Tydeus= | | | | +-- =Diomedes= | | | | ==Althæa= | | | | +-- =Meleager= | | | | | (see above) | | | | +-- =Dejanira= | | | | (see above) | | | +-- Pleuron | | | +-- Agenor | | | =Epicaste | | | +-- Demonice (see above) | | | +-- Porthaon (see above) | | +-- =Alcyone= | | | ==Ceyx= | | +-- Canace | | | =Neptune | | | +-- Al[oe]us | | | =Iphimedia | | | +-- =Otus= | | | +-- =Ephialtes= | | +-- Perieres | | | +-- Icarius | | | | +-- =Penelope= | | | | ==Ulysses= | | | | +-- =Telemachus= | | | +-- =Tyndareus= | | | ==Leda= | | | +-- =Castor= (see above) | | | +-- =Clytemnestra= (see above) | | +-- Mimas | | | +-- Hippotes | | | +-- Æolus II | | | +-- Arne | | | =Neptune | | | +-- =Æolus III= | | | | (King of the Winds) | | | +-- 6 sons | | | +-- 6 daughters | | +-- Magnes | | | +-- Dictys | | | +-- Polydectes | | +-- Deïon | | | +-- =Cephalus= | | | | =Procris | | | | +-- Arcesius | | | | +-- Laërtes | | | | +-- =Ulysses= | | | | ==Penelope= | | | | +-- =Telemachus= (see above) | | | +-- Actor | | | +-- Men[oe]tius | | | +-- =Patroclus= | | +-- =Athamas= | | | =Nephele | | | +-- =Helle= | | | +-- =Phryxus= | | | =Ino | | | +-- =Melicertes= | | | =Themisto | | | +-- Sch[oe]neus of B[oe]tia | | | +-- =Atalanta= | | | =Hippomenes | | +-- =Sisyphus= | | | ==Merope= | | | +-- =Glaucus= | | | +-- =Bellerophon= | | | +-- Hippolochus | | | | +-- Glaucus (Iliad, 6, 155) | | | +-- Laodamia | | | =Jove | | | +-- =Sarpedon= | | +-- Salmoneus | | | +-- Tyro | | | =Neptune | | | +-- Neleus | | | | +-- =Nestor= | | | | | +-- Antilochus | | | | +-- Pero | | | | ==Bias= | | | | +-- Talaüs | | | | +-- =Adrastus= | | | | +-- =Eriphyle= | | | | ==Amphiaraüs= | | | | +-- =Alcmæon= (see above) | | | | +-- Amphilochus | | | | (see above) | | | +-- =Pelias= | | | +-- Evadne | | | +-- Acastus | | | | +-- =Laodamia= | | | | =Protesilaüs | | | +-- =Alcestis= | | | ==Admetus= | | | =Cretheus | | | +-- Pheres | | | | +-- =Admetus= | | | | ==Alcestis= | | | +-- Æson | | | | +-- =Jason= | | | +-- Amythaon | | | +-- =Bias= | | | | =Pero | | | | +-- Talaüs (see above) | | | +-- =Melampus= (the Prophet) | | | +-- Antiphates | | | +-- Oïcles | | | =Hypermnestra | | | +-- =Amphiaraüs= | | | (see above) | | +-- Cretheus | | =Tyro | | +-- Pheres (see above) | | +-- Æson (see above) | | +-- Amythaon (see above) | +-- Xuthus | | +-- Diomede | | +-- Achæus | | +-- Ion | +-- Dorus | +-- Tectamus +-- Prometheus | =Clymene | +-- Deucalion | ==Pyrrha= | +-- =Hellen= (see above) +-- Men[oe]tius +-- =Atlas= =Pleione +-- =Merope= | ==Sisyphus= | +-- =Glaucus= (see above) +-- Sterope II | =Mars | +-- =[OE]nomaüs= | +-- =Hippodamia= | =Pelops | +-- =Atreus= | | =Aërope | | +-- =Agamemnon= | | | ==Clytemnestra= | | +-- =Menelaüs= | | =Helen | +-- Thyestes | | +-- Ægisthus | +-- Pittheus | +-- Æthra | +-- =Theseus= +-- Electra | =Jove | +-- =Dardanus= | +-- Ilus I | +-- Erichthonius | +-- Tros | +-- Ilus II | +-- =Laomedon= | +-- =Priam= +-- The other =Pleiades= =Æthra +-- =The Hyades= =Hesperis +-- =The Hesperides= =Sterope I +-- =Maia= =Jove +-- Mercury _=Illustrative.=_ The name _Amalthea_ is given also to the mother of Bacchus. It is thus used by Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 275: That Nyseian isle, Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham, Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Libyan Jove, Hid Amalthea, and her florid son, Young Bacchus, from his stepdame Rhea's eye. See also Milton, Paradise Regained, 2, 356. =148.= For the general genealogy of the race of Inachus, see Table D. For the general race of Iapetus, Deucalion, Hellen, Æolus, Ætolus, etc., see below, Table I (based in part on the table given in Roscher, article _Deukalion_). For the descendants of Agenor, see Table E. For the houses of Minos and of Labdacus, see Tables L and N. For the descendants of Belus (house of Danaüs), see Tables I and J; of Cecrops and Erechtheus, Table M. (1) =The race of Inachus= | +--------------------------+----------------------+ | | | The descendants of Pelasgus, of Belus, of Agenor | | House of Danaüs Houses of Minos and Labdacus (2) =The race of Deucalion= (Table G), and of his son, Hellen | The descendants of Æolus, of Dorus, of Xuthus, | | | (Achæans and Ionians) The descendants of Endymion, Perieres, Deïon, Sisyphus, Cretheus, Athamas (3) =The descendants of Ætolus=, son of Endymion (Table K) | Houses of Porthaon and Thestius (4) =The race of Cecrops= | The descendants of Erichthonius | House of Pandion and Ægeus =149-154. _Textual._ Seriphus=: an island of the Ægean. The House of Danaüs is as follows: TABLE J. THE HOUSE OF DANAÜS =Inachus= +-- Io =Jupiter +-- Epaphus +-- Libya =Poseidon (Neptune) +-- Agenor | +-- Cadmus | +-- Europa +-- Belus of Egypt +-- Ægyptus | +-- 49 other sons | +-- Lynceus | =Hypermnestra | +-- Abas | +-- Acrisius | +-- =Danaë= | =Jupiter | +-- =Perseus= | ==Andromeda= | +-- Perses | +-- Electryon | | +-- =Alcmene= | | =Jupiter | | +-- =Hercules= | | ==Amphitryon= | | +-- Iphicles | +-- Alcæus | +-- =Amphitryon= | ==Alcmene= | +-- Iphicles | (see above) +-- =Danaüs= | +-- Hypermnestra | | =Lynceus | | +-- Abas (see above) | +-- 49 other drs. +-- Cepheus =Cassiopea +-- =Andromeda= ==Perseus= +-- Perses (see above) +-- Electryon (see above) +-- Alcæus (see above) =_Interpretative._= While =Danaüs= is, in fact, a native mythical hero of Argos, the story of his arrival from Egypt is probably an attempt to explain the influence of Egyptian civilization upon the Greeks. The name _Danaüs_ means _drought_, and may refer to the frequently dry condition of the soil of Argos. The fifty daughters of Danaüs would then be the nymphs of the many _springs_ which in season refresh the land of Argolis. Their suitors, the fifty sons of Ægyptus, would be the streams of Argolis that in the rainy months threaten to overflow their banks. But the springs by vanishing during the hot weather deprive the streams of water and consequently of life. That is to say, when the sources (Danaïds) choose to stop supplies, the heads of the streams (the fifty youths of Argolis) are cut off. The reference to Ægyptus and the sons of Ægyptus would indicate a reminiscence of the Nile and its tributaries, alternately overflowing and exhausted. The unsuccessful toil of the Danaïds in Tartarus may have been suggested by the sandy nature of the Argive soil, and the leaky nature of the springs, now high, now low. Or it may typify, simply, any incessant, fruitless labor. The name =Hypermnestra= signifies _constancy_ and _love_. =Danaë=, the daughter of Acrisius, has been regarded as the dry earth, which under the rains of the golden springtime bursts into verdure and bloom; or as the dark depths of the earth; or as the dawn, from which, shot through with the golden rays of heaven, the youthful Sun is born.[428] Advocates of the last theory would understand the voyage of Danaë and Perseus as the tossing of the sunbeams on the waters of the eastern horizon. The young Sun would next overcome the =Gray-women=, forms of the gloaming, and then slay with his sword of light the black cloud of the heavenly vault, the =Gorgon=, whose aspect is night and death. The =Grææ= and the Gorgons may, with greater probability, be taken as personifications of the hidden horrors of the unknown night-enveloped ocean and the misty horizon whence storms come. In that case the Grææ will be the gray clouds, and their one tooth (or one eye) the harmless gleam of the lightning; the Gorgons will be the heavy thunderclouds, and their petrifying gaze the swift and fatal lightning flash. But there are still others who find in the Gorgon =Medusa= the wan visage of the moon, empress of the night, slain by the splendor of morning. The sandals of Hermes have, accordingly, been explained as the morning breeze, or even as the chariot of the sun. The invisible helmet may be the clouds under which the sun disappears. Compare the cloak of darkness in the Three Daughters of King O'Hara; and the Sword of Sharpness in the Weaver's Son and the Giant of White Hill (Curtin, Myths of Ireland). =Andromeda= is variously deciphered: the tender dawn, which a storm-cloud would obscure and devour; the moon, which darkness, as a dragon, threatens to swallow; or some historic character that has passed into myth. Compare the contests of Perseus and the Dragon, Apollo and Pytho, Hercules and the Serpents, Cadmus and the Dragon of Mars, St. George and the Dragon, Siegfried and the Worm (Fafnir). For a Gaelic Andromeda and Perseus, see The Thirteenth Son of the King of Erin (Curtin, Myths of Ireland). Perseus' flight to the =Gardens of the Hesperides= suggests, naturally, the circuit of the sun toward the flushing western horizon; and, of course, he would here behold the giant =Atlas=, who, stationed where heaven and earth meet, sustains upon his shoulders the celestial vault. The =Doom of Acrisius= reminds one of that of Hyacinthus. The quoit suggests the rays of the sun, and the name _Acrisius_ may be construed to mean the "confused or gloomy heavens" (Roscher, Preller, Müller, etc.). =_Illustrative._= "The starred Æthiope queen": Cassiopea (Cassiepea, or Cassiope) became a constellation. The sea-nymphs, however, had her placed in a part of the heavens near the pole, where she is half the time held with her head downward to teach her humility. =Danaë.= Tennyson, Princess, "Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me." Translations of Simonides' Lament of Danaë, by W. C. Bryant and by J. H. Frere. =Danaïd=: Chaucer, Legende of Good Women, 2561 (Hypermnestra and Lynceus). =Gorgons= and =Medusa=. Spenser, Epithalamion, "And stand astonished like to those which read Medusa's mazeful head"; Milton, Paradise Lost, 2. 611, 628; Comus (on Ægis and Gorgon); Drummond, The Statue of Medusa; Gray, Hymn to Adversity; Armstrong, The Art of Preserving Health; D. G. Rossetti, Aspecta Medusa; L. Morris, in The Epic of Hades; Thomas Gordon Hake, The Infant Medusa (a sonnet); E. Lee-Hamilton, The New Medusa; Lady Charlotte Elliot, Medusa. =Andromeda.= Milton, Paradise Lost, 3, 559 (the constellation); L. Morris in The Epic of Hades; W. Morris, Doom of King Acrisius; E. Dowden, Andromeda (The Heroines). =Atlas.= Shakespeare, 3 Henry VI, 5, 1; Milton, Paradise Lost, 4, 987; 11, 402, comparison of Satan and Atlas. =_In Art._= Fig. 116, in text: vase in the Hermitage, St. Petersburg. Titian's painting, Danaë and the Shower of Gold; Correggio's Danaë. Ancient sculpture: a Danaïd in the Vatican; the Danaïds on an altar in the Vatican (Fig. 115, in text). =Perseus and Andromeda.= Figs. 119-121, and opp. p. 212, in text; painting by Rubens (Berlin). Sculpture: Benvenuto Cellini's Perseus (Loggia de' Lanzi, Florence), and Perseus saving Andromeda; Canova's Perseus (Vatican). =Medusa.= Græco-Roman sculpture: Head of Dying Medusa (Villa Ludovisi, Rome); the beautiful Medusa Rondanini in the Glyptothek, Munich (Figs. 117 and 118, text); numerous illustrations of abhorrent Gorgons in Roscher, p. 1707 _et seq._, from vases, seals, marbles, etc. =_Modern Painting._= Leonardo da Vinci, Head of Medusa. =155. _Textual._= The descent of Bellerophon is as follows. (See also Table I.) Deucalion = Pyrrha | Hellen | Æolus I Atlas | | Sisyphus = Merope (Pleiad) | Glaucus | Bellerophon =Lycia=: in Asia Minor. The fountain =Hippocrene=, on the Muses' mountain, Helicon, was opened by a kick from the hoof of Pegasus. This horse belongs to the Muses, and has from time immemorial been ridden by the poets. From the story of Bellerophon being unconsciously the bearer of his own death-warrant, the expression "=Bellerophontic letters=" arose, to describe any species of communication which a person is made the bearer of, containing matter prejudicial to himself. =Aleian field=: a district in Cilicia (Asia Minor). =_Interpretative._ Bellerophon= is either "he who appears in the clouds," or "he who slays the cloudy monster." In either sense we have another sun-myth and sun-hero. He is the son of Glaucus, who, whether he be descended from Sisyphus or from Neptune, is undoubtedly a sea-god. His horse, sprung from Medusa, the thundercloud, when she falls under the sword of the sun, is =Pegasus=, the rain-cloud. In his contest with the =Chimæra= we have a repetition of the combat of Perseus and the sea monster. Bellerophon is a heavenly knight errant who slays the powers of storm and darkness. The earth, struck by his horse's hoof, bubbles into springs (Rapp in Roscher, and Max Müller). At the end of the day, falling from heaven, this knight of the sun walks in melancholy the pale fields of the twilight. =_Illustrative._= Wm. Morris, Bellerophon in Argos and in Lycia (Earthly Paradise); Longfellow, Pegasus in Pound; Bowring's translation of Schiller's Pegasus in Harness. Milton (=Bellerophon and Pegasus=), Paradise Lost, 7, 1; Spenser, "Then whoso will with virtuous wing assay To mount to heaven, on Pegasus must ride, And with sweet Poet's verse be glorified"; also Faerie Queene, 1, 9, 21; Shakespeare, Taming of the Shrew, IV, iv; 1 Henry IV, IV, i; Henry V, III, vii; Pope, Essay on Criticism, 150; Dunciad, 3, 162; Burns, To John Taylor; Young's Night Thoughts, Vol. 2 (on Bellerophontic letters). =Hippocrene=: Keats, To a Nightingale. =_In Art._= Bellerophon and Pegasus, vase picture (Monuments inédits, etc., Rome and Paris, 1839-1874); ancient relief, Fig. 122, in text. =156-162.= For genealogy of Hercules, see Table J. =Rhadamanthus=: brother of Minos. (See Index.) =Thespiæ= and =Orchomenos=: towns of B[oe]otia. =Nemea=: in Argolis, near Mycenæ. =Stymphalian= lake: in Arcadia. =Pillars of Hercules.= The chosen device of Charles V of Germany represented the Pillars of Hercules entwined by a scroll that bore his motto, "Plus Ultra" (still farther). This device, imprinted upon the German dollar, has been adopted as the sign of the American dollar ($). _Dollar_, by the way, means _coin of the_ _valley_,--German _Thal_. The silver of the first dollars came from Joachimsthal in Bohemia, about 1518. =Hesperides=: the western sky at sunset. The apples may have been suggested by stories of the oranges of Spain. The =Cacus= myth is thoroughly latinized, but of Greek origin. The =Aventine=: one of the hills of Rome. =Colchis=: in Asia, east of the Euxine and south of Caucasus. =Mysia=: province of Asia Minor, north of Lydia. The river =Phasis= flows through Colchis into the Euxine. For genealogy of =Laomedon=, see Table O (5). =Pylos=: it is doubtful what city is intended. There were two such towns in Elis, and one in Messenia. The word means _gate_ (see Iliad, 5, 397), and in the case of Hercules there may be some reference to his journey to the gate or _Pylos_ of Hades. For =Alcestis=, see =83=; for =Prometheus=, =15=; for the family of Dejanira, Table K. =Alcides=: _i.e._ Hercules, descendant of Alcæus. =[OE]chalia=: in Thessaly or in Eub[oe]a. =Mount= =[OE]ta=: in Thessaly. The =Pygmies=: a nation of dwarfs, so called from a Greek word meaning the cubit, or measure of about thirteen inches, which was said to be the height of these people. They lived near the sources of the Nile, or, according to others, in India. Homer tells us that the cranes used to migrate every winter to the Pygmies' country, where, attacking the cornfields, they precipitated war. H. M. Stanley, in his last African expedition, discovered a race of diminutive men that correspond fairly in appearance with those mentioned by Homer. The =Cercopes=: the subject of a comic poem by Homer, and of numerous grotesque representations in Greek literature and sculpture. =_Interpretative._= All myths of the sun represent that luminary as struggling against and overcoming monsters, or performing other laborious tasks in obedience to the orders of some tyrant of inferior spirit, but of legal authority. Since the life of Hercules is composed of such tasks, it is easy to class him with other sun-heroes. But to construe his whole history and all his feats as symbolic of the sun's progress through the heavens, beginning with the labors performed in his eastern home and ending with the capture of Cerberus in the underworld beyond the west, or to construe the subjects of the twelve labors as consciously recalling the twelve signs of the Zodiac is not only unwarranted, but absurd. To some extent Hercules is a sun-hero; to some extent his adventures are fabulous history; to a greater extent both he and his adventures are the product of generations of æsthetic, but primitive and fanciful, invention. The same statement holds true of nearly all the heroes and heroic deeds of mythology. As a matter of interest, it may be noted that the serpents that attacked Hercules in his cradle are explained as powers of darkness which the sun destroys, and the cattle that he tended, as the clouds of morning. His choice between pleasure and duty at the outset of his career enforces, of course, a lesson of conduct. His lion's skin may denote the tawny cloud which the sun trails behind him as he fights his way through the vapors that he overcomes (Cox). The slaughter of the Centaurs may be the dissipation of these vapors. His insanity may denote the raging heat of the sun at noonday. The Nemean lion may be a monster of cloud or darkness; the Hydra, a cloud that confines the kindly rains, or at times covers the heavens with numerous necks and heads of vapor. The Cerynean Stag may be a golden-tinted cloud that the sun chases; and the Cattle of the Augean stables, clouds that, refusing to burst in rain, consign the earth to drought and filth. The Erymanthian boar and the Cretan bull are probably varied forms of the powers of darkness; so also the Stamphalian (Stymphalian) birds and the giant Cacus. Finally, the scene of the hero's death is a "picture of a sunset in wild confusion, the multitude of clouds hurrying hither and thither, now hiding, now revealing the mangled body of the sun." In this way Cox, and other interpreters of myth, would explain the series. But while the explanations are entertaining and poetic, their very plausibility should suggest caution in accepting them. It is not safe to construe all the details of a mythical career in terms of any one theory. The more noble side of the character of Hercules presents itself to the moral understanding, as worthy of consideration and admiration. The dramatist Euripides has portrayed him as a great-hearted hero, high-spirited and jovial, rejoicing in the vigor of manhood, comforting the downcast, wrestling with Death and overcoming him, restoring happiness where sorrow had obtained. No grander conception of manliness has in modern times found expression in poetry than that of the Hercules in Browning's transcript of Euripides, Balaustion's Adventure. =_Illustrative._= Lang's translation of the Lityerses song (Theocritus, Idyl X). The song, like the Linus song, is of early origin among the laborers in the field. For =Hercules=, see Sir Philip Sidney, Astrophel and Stella; Spenser, Faerie Queene, 1, 11, 27; Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, II, i; III, ii; Taming of the Shrew, I, ii; Coriolanus, IV, i; Hamlet, I, ii; Much Ado About Nothing, II, i; III, iii; King John, II, i; Titus Andronicus, IV, ii; Antony and Cleopatra, IV, x; 1 Henry VI, IV, vii; Pope, Satires, 5, 17; Milton, Paradise Lost, 11, 410 (Geryon). =Amazons=: Shakespeare, King John, V, ii; Midsummer Night's Dream, II, ii; 1 Henry VI, I, iv; 3 Henry VI, I, iv; Pope, Rape of the Lock, 3, 67; =Hylas=: Pope, Autumn; Dunciad, 2, 336. =_Poems._= S. Rogers, on the Torso of Hercules; Browning, Balaustion's Adventure, and Aristophanes' Apology; L. Morris, Dejaneira (Epic of Hades); William Morris, The Golden Apples (Earthly Paradise); J. H. Frere's translation of Euripides' Hercules Furens, and Plumptre's, or R. Whitelaw's (1883), of Sophocles' Women of Trachis; George Cabot Lodge, Herakles. =Pygmies=: James Beattie, Battle of the Pygmies and the Cranes. =Dejanira=: Fragment of Chorus of a "Dejaneira," by M. Arnold. =Hylas=: Moore (song), "When Hylas was sent with his urn to the fount," etc.; Bayard Taylor, Hylas; R. C. Rogers, Hylas; translation of Theocritus, Idyl XIII, by C. S. Calverley, 1869. =Daphnis=: Theocritus, Idyl I. According to this, Daphnis so loves Naïs that he defies Aphrodite to make him love again. She does so, but he fights against the new passion, and dies a victim of the implacable goddess. This song is sung by Thyrsis. Also on Daphnis, read E. Gosse's poem, The Gifts of the Muses. =_In Art._= Fig. 65, of a statue reproducing the style of Scopas; figs. 123-129, and opp. p. 226, in text; Heracles in the eastern pediment of the Parthenon (?); the Torso Belvedere; Farnese Hercules (National Museum, Naples); Hercules in the metopes of the Temple of Silenus (Museum, Palermo); the Infant Hercules strangling a Serpent (antique sculpture), in the Uffizi at Florence; C. G. Gleyre's painting, Hercules at the Feet of Omphale (Louvre); Bandinelli (sculpture), Hercules and Cacus; Giovanni di Bologna (sculpture), Hercules and Centaur; Amazon (ancient sculpture), in the Vatican; and Figs. 162, 185 and opp. p. 306, in text; Centaur (sculpture), Capitol, Rome; the Mad Heracles, vase picture (Monuments inédits, Rome and Paris, 1839-1878). =163-167.= For the descent of Jason from Deucalion, see Table G. =Iolcos=: a town in Thessaly. =Lemnos=: in the Ægean, near Tenedos. =Phineus=: a son of Agenor, or of Poseidon. For the family of Medea, see Table H. =_Interpretative._ Argo= means _swift_, or _white_, or commemorates the ship-builder, or the city of Argos. The Argo-myth rests upon a mixture of traditions of the earliest seafaring and of the course of certain physical phenomena. So far as the tradition of primitive seafaring is concerned, it may refer to some half-piratical expedition, the rich spoils of which might readily be known as the =Golden Fleece=. So far as the physical tradition is concerned, it may refer to the course of the year (the =Ram= of the Golden Fleece being the fructifying clouds that come and go across the Ægean) or to the process of sunrise and sunset (?): =Helle= being the glimmering twilight that sinks into the sea; =Phrixus= (in Greek _Phrixos_), the radiant sunlight; the voyage of the Argo through the Symplegades, the nocturnal journey of the sun down the west; the oak with the Golden Fleece, a symbol of the sunset which the dragon of darkness guards; the fire-breathing bulls, the advent of morning; the offspring of the dragon's teeth, an image of the sunbeams leaping from eastern darkness. =Medea= is a typical wise-woman or witch; daughter of Hecate and granddaughter of Asteria, the starry heavens, she comes of a family skilled in magic. Her aunt Circe was even more powerful in necromancy than she. The robe of Medea is the fleece in another form. The death of =Creüsa=, also called Glauce, suggests that of Hercules (in the flaming sunset?). =Jason= is no more faithful to his sweetheart than other solar heroes--Hercules, Perseus, Apollo--are to theirs. The sun must leave the colors and glories, the twilights and the clouds of to-day, for those of to-morrow. See Roscher, pp. 530-537. The physical explanation is more than commonly plausible. But the numerous adventures of the Argonauts are certainly survivals of various local legends that have been consolidated and preserved in the artistic form of the myth. Jason, Diáson, is another Zeus, of the Ionian race, beloved by Medea, whose name, "the counseling woman," suggests a goddess. Perhaps Medea was a local Hera-Demeter, degraded to the rank of a heroine. The =Symplegades= may be a reminiscence of rolling and clashing icebergs; the dove incident occurs in numerous ancient stories from that of Noah down. If Medea be another personification of morning and evening twilight, then her dragons are rays of sunlight that precede her. More likely they are part of the usual equipage of a witch, symbolizing wisdom, foreknowledge, swiftness, violence, and Oriental mystery. =_Illustrative._= The =Argo=, see Theodore Martin's translation of Catullus, LXIV (Peleus and Thetis), for the memorable launch; Pope, St. Cecilia's Day. =Jason=: Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, I, i; III, ii; =Æson=: Merchant of Venice, V, i; =Absyrtus=: 2 Henry VI, V, ii. _=Poems=_: Chaucer, Legende of Good Women, 1366 (Ysiphile and Medee); W. Morris, Life and Death of Jason; Frederick Tennyson, Æson and King Athamas (in Daphne and Other Poems). Thos. Campbell's translation of the chorus in Euripides' Medea, beginning "Oh, haggard queen! to Athens dost thou guide thy glowing chariot." Translations of the Medea of Euripides have been made by Augusta Webster, 1868; by W. C. Lawton (Three Dramas of Euripides) 1889; and by Wodhull. _=In Art.=_ The terra-cotta relief (Fig. 130, text) in the British Museum; the relief from Naples, now in Vienna (Fig. 131). Figs. 132 and 133 as explained in text. Also the splendid Vengeance of Medea in the Louvre; relief on a Roman sarcophagus. =168. _Textual._= TABLE K. THE DESCENDANTS OF ÆTOLUS (SON OF ENDYMION) =Endymion= +-- =Ætolus= +-- Calydon | +-- Epicaste | =Agenor | +-- Porthaon | | +-- =[OE]neus= | | =Perib[oe]a | | +-- =Tydeus= | | +-- =Diomedes= | | ==Althæa= | | +-- =Meleager= | | +-- =Dejanira= | | =Hercules | +-- Demonice | =Mars | +-- Thestius | +-- =Althæa= | | ==[OE]neus= | | +-- =Meleager= (see above) | | +-- =Dejanira= (see above) | +-- Plexippus | +-- Toxeus (?) | +-- =Leda= | =Tyndareus (Sparta) | +-- Castor | +-- Clytemnestra | =Jupiter | +-- Pollux | +-- Helen +-- Pleuron +-- Agenor =Epicaste +-- Porthaon (see above) +-- Demonice (see above) Also, in general, Table I. For =Calydon=, see Index. The Arcadian =Atalanta= was descended from the Arcas who was son of Jupiter and Callisto. (See Table D.) _=Interpretative.=_ Atalanta is the "unwearied maiden." She is the human counterpart of the huntress Diana. The story has of course been allegorically explained, but it bears numerous marks of local and historic origin. _=Illustrative.=_ Swinburne, Atalanta in Calydon; Margaret J. Preston, The Quenched Branch; Shakespeare, 2 Henry IV, II, ii; 2 Henry VI, I, i. _=In Art.=_ The Meleager (sculpture), in the Vatican; the Roman reliefs as in text. The original of Fig. 135 is in the Louvre. =169.= The =Merope= story has been dramatized by Maffei (1713), Voltaire (1743), Alfieri (1783), and by others. =170-171.= C. S. Calverley's The Sons of Leda, from Theocritus. =Leda=: Spenser, Prothalamion; Landor, Loss of Memory. =Talus=: the iron attendant of Artegal, Spenser, Faerie Queene, 5, 1, 12. =172. The Descendants of Minos I=. (See also Table D.) TABLE L Europa =Jupiter +-- =Minos I= =Itone +-- Lycastus +-- =Minos II= ==Pasiphaë= +-- Crateus | +-- Aërope | =Atreus +-- Phædra | =Theseus +-- Ariadne =Theseus Helios =Perseïs +-- =Pasiphaë= | ==Minos II= | +-- Crateus (see above) | +-- Phædra (see above) | +-- Ariadne (see above) +-- Circe +-- Æetes =Hecate +-- =Medea= Asteria =Perses +-- Hecate =Æetes +-- =Medea= (see above) _=Interpretative.=_ Discrimination between Minos I and Minos II is made in the text, but is rarely observed. =Minos=, according to Preller, is the solar king and hero of Crete; his wife, =Pasiphaë=, is the moon (who was worshiped in Crete under the form of a cow); and the =Minotaur= is the lord of the starry heavens which are his labyrinth. Others make Pasiphaë, whose name means _shiner upon_ _all_, the bright heaven; and Minos (in accordance with his name, the Man, _par_ _excellence_), the thinker and measurer. A lawgiver on earth, the Homeric Minos readily becomes a judge in Hades. Various fanciful interpretations, such as storm cloud, sun, etc., are given of the bull. Cox explains the Minotaur as night, devouring all things. The tribute from Athens may suggest some early suzerainty in politics and religion exercised by Crete over neighboring lands. For =Mæander=, see Pope, Rape of the Lock, 5, 65; Dunciad, 1, 64; 3, 55. =173. _Interpretative._ Dædalus= is a representative of the earliest technical skill, especially in wood-cutting, carving, and the plastic arts used for industrial purposes. His flight from one land to another signifies the introduction of inventions into the countries concerned. The fall of Icarus was probably invented to explain the name of the =Icarian= Sea. =_Illustrative._ Dædalus=: Chaucer, Hous of Fame, 409. =Icarus=: Shakespeare, 1 Henry VI, IV, vi; IV, vii; 3 Henry VI, V, vi; poem on Icarus by Bayard Taylor; travesty by J. G. Saxe. =_In Art._= Sculpture: Fig. 138, in text: Villa Albani, Rome; Canova's Dædalus and Icarus; painting by J. M. Vien; also by A. Pisano (Campanile, Florence). =174. The descendants of Erichthonius= are as follows: TABLE M Jupiter +-- Tantalus +-- Pelops +-- =Pittheus= | +-- =Æthra= | ==Ægeus= | +-- =Theseus= | =Ariadne d. of Minos II | =Antiope (Hippolyta) | +-- =Hippolytus= | =Phædra d. of Minos II +-- Atreus +-- Thyestes =Erichthonius= +-- Pandion I +-- Erechtheus | +-- Pandion II | | +-- =Ægeus= | | ==Æthra= | | +-- =Theseus= (see above) | +-- Creüsa | =Apollo | +-- =Ion= | =Xuthus +-- =Procne= +-- =Philomela= =Cecrops= (see =65=). According to one tradition, Cecrops was autochthonous and had one son, Erysichthon, who died without issue, and three daughters, Herse, Aglauros, and Pandrosos (personifications of Dew and its vivifying influences). According to another, he was of the line of Erichthonius, being either a son of Pandion I, or a son of Erechtheus and a grandson of Pandion I. Apollodorus makes him father of Pandion II. He was regarded as founder of the worship of Athene and of various civic institutions. He is probably a hero of the Pelasgian race. =Ion.= According to one tradition, the race of Erechtheus became extinct, save for Ion, a son of Apollo and Creüsa, daughter of Erechtheus. This son, having been removed at birth, was brought up in Apollo's temple at Delphi, and, in accordance with the oracle of Apollo, afterwards adopted by Creüsa and her husband Xuthus (see the Ion of Euripides). Ion founded the new dynasty of Athens. But, according to Pausanias and Apollodorus, the dynasty of Erechtheus was continued by =Ægeus=, who was either a son, or an adopted son, of Pandion II. By Æthra he became father of Theseus, in whose veins flowed, therefore, the blood of Pelops and of Erichthonius. _=Interpretative.=_ The story of =Philomela= was probably invented to account for the sad song of the nightingale. With her the swallow is associated as another much loved bird of spring. Occasionally Procne is spoken of as the nightingale, and Philomela as the swallow, and Tereus as taking the form of a red-crested hoopoe. _=Illustrative.=_ Chaucer, Legende of Good Women (Philomene of Athens); Milton, Il Penseroso; Richard Barnfield, Song, "As it fell upon a day"; Thomson, Hymn on the Seasons; Swinburne, Itylus; Oscar Wilde, The Burden of Itys; Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd's drama, Ion. =176-181. Tr[oe]zen=: in Argolis. According to some the Amazonian wife of Theseus was =Hippolyta=, but her Hercules had already killed. =Theseus= is said to have united the several tribes of Attica into one state, of which Athens was the capital. In commemoration of this important event, he instituted the festival of =Panathenæa=, in honor of Athene, the patron deity of Athens. This festival differed from the other Grecian games chiefly in two particulars. It was peculiar to the Athenians, and its chief feature was a solemn procession in which the Peplus, or sacred robe of Athene, was carried to the Parthenon, and left on or before the statue of the goddess. The Peplus was covered with embroidery, worked by select virgins of the noblest families in Athens. The procession consisted of persons of all ages and both sexes. The old men carried olive branches in their hands, and the young men bore arms. The young women carried baskets on their heads, containing the sacred utensils, cakes, and all things necessary for the sacrifices. The procession formed the subject of the bas-reliefs which embellished the frieze of the temple of the Parthenon. A considerable portion of these sculptures is now in the British Museum among those known as the "Elgin Marbles." We may mention here the other celebrated national games of the Greeks. The first and most distinguished were the =Olympic=, founded, it was said, by Zeus himself. They were celebrated at Olympia in Elis. Vast numbers of spectators flocked to them from every part of Greece, and from Asia, Africa, and Sicily. They were repeated every fifth year in midsummer, and continued five days. They gave rise to the custom of reckoning time and dating events by Olympiads. The first Olympiad is generally considered as beginning with the year 776 B.C. The =Pythian= games were celebrated in the vicinity of Delphi, the =Isthmian= on the Corinthian isthmus, the =Nemean= at Nemea, a city of Argolis. The exercises in these games were chariot-racing, running, leaping, wrestling, throwing the quoit, hurling the javelin, and boxing. Besides these exercises of bodily strength and agility, there were contests in music, poetry, and eloquence. Thus these games furnished poets, musicians, and authors the best opportunities to present their productions to the public, and the fame of the victors was diffused far and wide. =_Interpretative._ Theseus= is the Attic counterpart of Hercules, not so significant in moral character, but eminent for numerous similar labors, and preëminent as the mythical statesman of Athens. His story may, with the usual perilous facility, be explained as a solar myth. =Periphetes= may be a storm cloud with its thunderbolts; the =Marathonian Bull= and the =Minotaur= may be forms of the power of darkness hidden in the starry labyrinth of heaven. Like Hercules, Theseus fights with the =Amazons= (clouds, we may suppose, in some form or other), and, like him, he descends to the underworld. =Ariadne= may be another twilight-sweetheart of the sun, and, like Medea and Dejanira, she must be deserted. She is either the "well-pleasing" or the "saintly." She was, presumably, a local nature-goddess of Naxos and Crete, who, in process of time, like Medea, sank to the condition of a heroine. Probably from her goddess-existence the marriage with Bacchus survived, to be incorporated later with the Attic myth of Theseus. As the female semblance of Bacchus, she appears to have been a promoter of vegetation; and, like Proserpina, she alternated between the joy of spring and the melancholy of winter. By some she is considered to be connected with star-worship as a moon-goddess. =_Illustrative._= Chaucer, The Knight's Tale (for Theseus and Ypolita); The Hous of Fame, 407, and the Legende of Good Women, 1884, for Ariadne; Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona, IV, i; Midsummer Night's Dream, II, ii (Hippolyta and Theseus); Shakespeare and Fletcher, Two Noble Kinsmen. In Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid's Tragedy, II, ii, a tapestry is ordered to be worked illustrating Theseus' desertion of Ariadne. Landor, To Joseph Ablett, "Bacchus is coming down to drink to Ariadne's love"; Landor, Theseus, and Hippolyta; Mrs. Browning, Paraphrase on Nonnus (Bacchus and Ariadne), Paraphrase on Hesiod; Sir Theodore Martin, Catullus, LXIV. Other poems: B. W. Procter, On the Statue of Theseus; Frederick Tennyson, Ariadne (Daphne and Other Poems); Mrs. Hemans, The Shade of Theseus; R. S. Ross, Ariadne in Naxos; J. S. Blackie, Ariadne; W. M. W. Call, Ariadne; Mrs. H. H. Jackson, Ariadne's Farewell. =Phædra and Hippolytus=: The Hippolytus of Euripides; Swinburne, Phædra; Browning, Artemis Prologizes; M. P. Fitzgerald, The Crowned Hippolytus; A. Mary F. Robinson, The Crowned Hippolytus; L. Morris, Phædra (Epic of Hades). On =Cecrops=: J. S. Blackie, The Naming of Athens; Erechtheus, by A. C. Swinburne. =_In Art._= Theseus: the original of Fig. 140, text is in the Hermitage, St. Petersburg; of Fig. 141 in the Naples Museum. The Battle with the Amazons frequently recurs in ancient sculpture. The sleeping Ariadne, of the Vatican, Fig. 142, text. Also the Revels as in text, Fig. 144. Modern Sculpture: the Theseus of Canova (Volksgarten, Vienna); the Ariadne of Dannecker. Paintings: Tintoretto's Ariadne and Bacchus; Teschendorff's Ariadne; Titian's Bacchus and Ariadne. =182-189. The Royal Family of Thebes.= TABLE N Agenor +-- Cadmus +-- =Agave= | =Echion | +-- Pentheus | +-- Men[oe]ceus I | +-- =Creon= | | +-- Men[oe]ceus II | | +-- Hæmon | +-- =Jocasta= | ==Laïus= | +-- =[OE]dipus= | ==Jocasta= | +-- =Eteocles= | +-- =Polynices= | +-- =Antigone= | +-- Ismene | ==[OE]dipus= | +-- =Eteocles= (see above) | +-- =Polynices= (see above) | +-- =Antigone= (see above) | +-- Ismene (see above) +-- Polydorus +-- =Labdacus= +-- =Laïus= ==Jocasta= +-- =[OE]dipus= (see above) =_Illustrative._ [OE]dipus=: Plumptre's translation of [OE]dipus the King, [OE]dipus Coloneus, and Antigone; Shelley, Swellfoot the Tyrant; E. Fitzgerald, The Downfall and Death of King [OE]dipus; Sir F. H. Doyle, [OE]dipus Tyrannus; Aubrey De Vere, Antigone; Emerson, The Sphinx; W. B. Scott, The Sphinx; M. Arnold, Fragment of an "Antigone." =Tiresias=: by Swinburne, Tennyson, and Thomas Woolner. =_In Art._= Ancient: [OE]dipus and the Sphinx (in Monuments Inédits, Rome and Paris, 1839-1878). Modern paintings: Teschendorff's [OE]dipus and Antigone, Antigone and Ismene, and Antigone; [OE]dipus and the Sphinx, by J. D. A. Ingres; The Sphinx, by D. G. Rossetti. Of the stories told in these and the following sections no systematic, allegorical, or physical interpretations are here given, because (1) the general method followed by the unravelers of myth has already been sufficiently illustrated; (2) the attempt to force symbolic conceptions into the longer folk-stories, or into the artistic myths and epics of any country, is historically unwarranted and, in practice, is only too often capricious; (3) the effort to interpret such stories as the Iliad and the Odyssey must result in destroying those elements of unconscious simplicity and romantic vigor that characterize the early products of the creative imagination. =190-194. Houses concerned in the Trojan War.= TABLE O (1) =Family of Peleus= and its connections: Asopus +-- Ægina =Jupiter +-- =Æacus= +-- Telamon | =Erib[oe]a | +-- Ajax | =Hesione | +-- =Teucer= +-- =Peleus= =Thetis +-- =Achilles= +-- Pyrrhus (Neoptolemus) =Hermione _d._ of Menelaüs and Helen Nereus =Doris +-- Thetis ==Peleus= +-- =Achilles= (see above) (2) =Family of Atreus= and its connections: Jupiter +-- Minos I | +-- Lycastus | +-- Minos II | +-- Crateus | +-- Aërope | ==Atreus= | +-- =Agamemnon= | | ==Clytemnestra= | | +-- =Iphigenia= | | +-- =Electra= | | +-- Chrysothemis | | +-- =Orestes= | | =Hermione | +-- =Menelaüs= | ==Helen= | +-- Hermione | =Neoptolemus | ==Orestes= +-- Tantalus +-- Pelops =Hippodamia +-- =Atreus= | =Aërope | +-- =Agamemnon= (see above) | +-- =Menelaüs= (see above) +-- Thyestes | +-- =Ægisthus= +-- Pittheus +-- Æthra =Ægeus +-- Theseus +-- Hippolytus (3) =Family of Tyndareus= and its connections: Æolus +-- Perieres +-- Icarius | +-- =Penelope= +-- =Tyndareus= ==Leda= +-- Castor +-- =Clytemnestra= Thestius +-- =Leda= ==Tyndareus= +-- Castor (see above) +-- =Clytemnestra= (see above) =Jupiter +-- Pollux +-- =Helen= ==Menelaüs= ==Paris= Castor and Pollux are called sometimes Dioscuri (sons of Jove), sometimes Tyndaridæ (sons of Tyndareus). Helen is frequently called Tyndaris, daughter of Tyndareus. (4) =Descent of Ulysses and Penelope=: Hellen +-- Æolus I +-- Perieres | +-- Icarius | | +-- =Penelope= | | ==Ulysses= | | +-- =Telemachus= | +-- =Tyndareus= | ==Leda= | +-- Castor | +-- =Clytemnestra= +-- Deïon +-- Cephalus | =Procris | +-- Arcesius | +-- Laërtes | +-- =Ulysses= | ==Penelope= | +-- =Telemachus= (see above) +-- Actor +-- Men[oe]tius +-- =Patroclus= (5) =The Royal Family of Troy=: Iapetus (Titan) +-- Atlas +-- Electra (Pleiad) =Jupiter +-- =Dardanus= =Batea +-- Erichthonius +-- Tros +-- Ilus II | +-- =Laomedon= | +-- Tithonus | | =Aurora | | +-- Memnon | +-- Hesione | | =Telamon | | +-- =Teucer= | +-- =Priam= | =Hecuba | +-- =Hector= | | =Andromache | | +-- Astyanax | +-- =Paris= | | =[OE]none | | ==Helen= | +-- Deiphobus | +-- Helenus | +-- Troilus | +-- Cassandra | +-- Creüsa | | ==Æneas= | | +-- =Ascanius= | | =Iulus | +-- Polyxena +-- Assaracus +-- Capys +-- Anchises =Venus +-- =Æneas= =Creüsa +-- =Ascanius= (see above) =Teucer= +-- Batea ==Dardanus= +-- Erichthonius (see above) =195.= On the =Iliad= and on =Troy=: Keats, Sonnet on Chapman's Homer; Milton, Paradise Lost, 1, 578; 9, 16; Il Penseroso, 100; Hartley Coleridge, Sonnet on Homer; T. B. Aldrich, Pillared Arch and Sculptured Tower; the Sonnets of Lang and Myers prefixed to Lang, Leaf, and Myers' translation of the Iliad. On the =Judgment of Paris=: George Peele, Arraignment of Paris; James Beattie, Judgment of Paris; Tennyson, Dream of Fair Women; J. S. Blackie, Judgment of Paris. See, for allusions, Shakespeare, All's Well that Ends Well, I, ii, iii; Henry V, II, iv; Troilus and Cressida, I, i; II, ii; III, i; Romeo and Juliet, I, ii; II, iv; IV, i; V, iii. On =Helen=: A. Lang, Helen of Troy, and his translation of Theocritus, Idyl XVIII; Landor, Menelaüs and Helen; John Todhunter, Helena in Troas; G. P. Lathrop, Helen at the Loom (_Atlantic Monthly_, Vol. 32, 1873). See Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream, I, i; III, ii; IV, i; All's Well that Ends Well, I, i, iii; II, ii; Romeo and Juliet, II, iv; Troilus and Cressida, II, ii; Marlowe, Faustus (Helen appears before Faust). =_In Art._ Homer=: the sketch by Raphael (in the Museum, Venice). =Paris and= =Helen.= Paintings: Helen of Troy, Sir Frederick Leighton; Paris and Helen, by David; The Judgment of Paris, by Rubens; by Watteau. Sculpture: Canova's Paris. Crayons: D. G. Rossetti's Helen; see also Fig. 150, as in text (ancient relief, Naples). =196. Iphigenia and Agamemnon.= Sometimes, in accordance with Goethe's practice, the name _Tauris_ is given to the land of the Tauri. To be correct one should say, "Iphigenia among the Tauri," or "Taurians." (See Index.) Iphigenia and Agamemnon by W. S. Landor; also his Shades of Agamemnon and Iphigenia; Dryden, Cymon and Iphigenia; Richard Garnett, Iphigenia in Delphi; Sir Edwin Arnold, Iphigenia; W. B. Scott, Iphigenia at Aulis. Any translations of Goethe's Iphigenia in Tauris, and of Euripides' Iphigenia in Aulis and Among the Tauri; also of Æschylus' Agamemnon,--such as those by Milman, Anna Swanwick, Plumptre, E. A. Morshead, J. S. Blackie, E. Fitzgerald, and Robert Browning. For Agamemnon, see Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, I, iii; II, i, iii; III, iii; IV, v; V, i; and James Thomson, Agamemnon (a drama). The =Troilus and= =Cressida= story is not found in Greek and Latin classics. Shakespeare follows Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde, which is based upon the Filostrato and the Filocolo of Boccaccio. =Pandarus=: the character of this name, uncle of Cressida, to be found in Lydgate, Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde, and Shakespeare's play of the same title, enjoys an unsavory reputation for which medieval romance is responsible. On =Menelaüs=, see notes to Helen and Agamemnon. =_In Art._ Iphigenia.= Paintings: Fig. 152, text (Museum, Naples); E. Hübner; William Kaulbach; E. Teschendorff. =199. Achilles.= Chaucer, Hous of Fame, 398; Dethe of Blaunche, 329; Landor, Peleus and Thetis; Robert Bridges, Achilles in Scyros; Sir Theodore Martin, translation of Catullus, LXIV; translation by C. M. Gayley as quoted in text. See also Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida; 2 Henry VI, V, i; Love's Labour's Lost, V, ii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 9, 15. =_In Art._= In general, Figs. 151, 153, 155-156, 159-162, in text; Wiertz, Fight for the Body of Achilles (Wiertz Museum, Brussels); Burne-Jones, The Feast of Peleus (picture). =204. Ajax.= Plumptre, Ajax of Sophocles; Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, Love's Labour's Lost, IV, iii; V, ii; Taming of the Shrew, III, i; Antony and Cleopatra, IV, ii; King Lear, II, ii; Cymbeline, IV, ii; George Crabbe, The Village. _=In Art.=_ The ancient sculpture, Ajax (or Menelaüs) of the Vatican. Modern sculpture, The Ajax of Canova. Flaxman's outline drawings for the Iliad. =207. Hector and Andromache.= Mrs. Browning, Hector and Andromache, a paraphrase of Homer; C. T. Brooks, Schiller's Parting of Hector and Andromache. See also Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida; Love's Labour's Lost, V, ii; 2 Henry IV, II, iv; Antony and Cleopatra, IV, viii. _=In Art.=_ Flaxman's outline sketches of the Fight for the Body of Patroclus, Hector dragged by Achilles, Priam supplicating Achilles, Hector's Funeral, Andromache fainting on the Walls of Troy; Canova's Hector (sculpture); Thorwaldsen's Hector and Andromache (relief) (Fig. 154, text). Hector, Ajax, Paris, Æneas, Patroclus, Teucer, etc., among the Ægina Marbles (Glyptothek, Munich). The Pasquino group (Fig. 158, in text) is from a copy in the Pitti, Florence. =216. Priam and Hecuba.= The translations of Euripides' Hecuba and Troades; Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida; Coriolanus, I, iii; Cymbeline, IV, ii; Hamlet, II, ii; 2 Henry IV, I, i. =219-220. Polyxena.= W. S. Landor, The Espousals of Polyxena. =Philoctetes=: translation of Sophocles by Plumptre; sonnet by Wordsworth; drama by Lord de Tabley. =221. [OE]none.= See A. Lang, Helen of Troy; W. Morris, Death of Paris (Earthly Paradise); Landor, Corythos (son of [OE]none), the Death of Paris, and [OE]none, Tennyson, [OE]none, also the Death of [OE]none, which is not so good. The pathetic story of the death of Corythus, the son of [OE]none and Paris, at the hands of his father, who was jealous of Helen's tenderness toward the youth, is a later myth. =223. Sinon.= Shakespeare, 3 Henry VI, III, ii; Cymbeline, III, iv; Titus Andronicus, V, iii. =224. Laocoön.= L. Morris, in The Epic of Hades. See Frothingham's translation of Lessing's Laocoön (a most important discussion of the Laocoön group and of principles of æsthetics). See also Swift's Description of a City Shower. _=In Art.=_ The original of the celebrated group (statuary) of Laocoön and his children in the embrace of the serpents is in the Vatican in Rome. (See text, opp. p. 310.) =226. Cassandra.= Chaucer, Troilus and Criseyde; Dethe of Blaunche, 1246. Poems by W. M. Praed and D. G. Rossetti. See Troilus and Cressida, I, i; II, ii; V, iii; Lord Lytton's translation of Schiller's Cassandra. _=In Art.=_ The Cassandra of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (in ink). =228-230. Electra and Orestes.= Translations of the Electra of Sophocles, the Libation-pourers and the Eumenides of Æschylus, by Plumptre; and of the Orestes and Electra of Euripides, by Wodhull. Lord de Tabley, Orestes (a drama); Byron, Childe Harold, 4; Milton, sonnet, "The repeated air Of sad Electra's poet," etc. =_In Art._= Græco-Roman sculpture: Fig. 169, in text, Orestes and Pylades find Iphigenia among the Taurians. Pompeian Fresco; Orestes and Electra (Villa Ludovisi, Rome); Orestes and Electra (National Museum, Naples). Vase-paintings: Figs. 167-168 in text; also Orestes slaying Ægisthus; Orestes at Delphi; Purification of Orestes. Modern paintings: Electra, by Teschendorff and by Seifert. =Clytemnestra=, The Death of, by W. S. Landor; Clytemnestra, by L. Morris, in The Epic of Hades. =Troy=: Byron, in his Bride of Abydos, thus describes the appearance of the deserted scene where once stood Troy: The winds are high, and Helle's tide Rolls darkly heaving to the main; And Night's descending shadows hide That field with blood bedew'd in vain, The desert of old Priam's pride; The tombs, sole relics of his reign, All--save immortal dreams that could beguile The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle! On Troy the following references will be valuable: H. W. Acland, The Plains of Troy, 2 vols. (London, 1839); H. Schliemann, Troy and its Remains (London, 1875); Ilios (London, 1881); Troja, results of latest researches on the site of Homer's Troy (London, 1882); W. J. Armstrong, _Atlantic Monthly_, Vol. 33, p. 173 (1874), Over Ilium and Ida; R. C. Jebb, _Jour. Hellenic Studies_, Vol. 2, p. 7, Homeric and Hellenic Ilium; _Fortn. Review_, N. S. Vol. 35, p. 4331 (1884), Homeric Troy. =231-244.= The =Odyssey=: Lang, Sonnet, "As one that for a weary space has lain," prefixed to Butcher and Lang's Odyssey. Translations by W. Morris, G. H. Palmer, Chapman, Bryant, Pope. =Ulysses=: Tennyson; Landor, The Last of Ulysses. See also Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida; 3 Henry VI, III, ii; Coriolanus, I, iii; Milton, Paradise Lost, 2, 1019; Comus, 637; R. Buchanan, Cloudland; Pope, Rape of the Lock, 4, 182; Stephen Phillips, Ulysses; Robert Bridges, The Return of Ulysses; R. C. Rogers, Odysseus at the Mast, Blind Polyphemus, Argus. =_In Art._= Statuettes, vase-paintings, and reliefs as in text, Figs. 170-180; also Ulysses summoning Tiresias (in Monuments Inédits, Rome and Paris, 1839-1878); Meeting with Nausicaa (Gerhard's vase pictures); outline drawings of Ulysses weeping at the song of Demodocus, boring out the eye of Polyphemus, Ulysses killing the suitors, Mercury conducting the souls of the suitors, Ulysses and his dog, etc., by Flaxman. =Penelope=: Poems by R. Buchanan, E. C. Stedman, and W. S. Landor. In ancient sculpture, the Penelope in the Vatican. Modern painting by C. F. Marchal. In crayons by D. G. Rossetti. =Circe=: M. Arnold, The Strayed Reveller; Hood, Lycus, the Centaur; D. G. Rossetti, The Wine of Circe; Saxe, The Spell of Circe. See Shakespeare, Comedy of Errors, V, i; 1 Henry VI, V, iii; Milton, Comus, 50, 153, 253, 522; Pope, Satire 8, 166; Cowper, Progress of Error; O. W. Holmes, Metrical Essay; Keats, Endymion, "I sue not for my happy crown again," etc. Circe and the Companions of Ulysses, a painting by Briton Rivière. Circe, in crayons. On =Sirens= and =Scylla= see =C. 50-52=; S. Daniel, Ulysses and the Siren; Lowell, The Sirens. Scylla and Charybdis have become proverbial to denote opposite dangers besetting one's course. Siren, in crayons; Sea-Spell, in oil, D. G. Rossetti. =Calypso=: Pope, Moral Essays, 2, 45; poem by Edgar Fawcett (_Putnam's Mag._, 14, 1869). Fénelon, in his romance of Telemachus, has given us the adventures of the son of Ulysses in search of his father. Among other places which he visited, following on his father's footsteps, was Calypso's isle; as in the former case, the goddess tried every art to keep the youth with her, and offered to share her immortality with him. But Minerva, who, in the shape of Mentor, accompanied him and governed all his movements, made him repel her allurements. Finally, when no other means of escape could be found, the two friends leaped from a cliff into the sea and swam to a vessel which lay becalmed offshore. Byron alludes to this leap of Telemachus and Mentor in the stanza of Childe Harold beginning "But not in silence pass Calypso's isles" (2, 29). Calypso's isle is said to be Goza. Homer's description of the ships of the Phæacians has been thought to look like an anticipation of the wonders of modern steam navigation. See the address of Alcinoüs to Ulysses, promising "wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind," etc. (Odyssey, 8). Lord Carlisle, in his Diary in the Turkish and Greek Waters, thus speaks of Corfu, which he considers to be the ancient Phæacian island: "The sites explain the Odyssey. The temple of the sea-god could not have been more fitly placed, upon a grassy platform of the most elastic turf, on the brow of a crag commanding harbor, and channel, and ocean. Just at the entrance of the inner harbor there is a picturesque rock with a small convent perched upon it, which by one legend is the transformed pinnace of Ulysses. "Almost the only river in the island is just at the proper distance from the probable site of the city and palace of the king, to justify the princess Nausicaa having had resort to her chariot and to luncheon when she went with the maidens of the court to wash their garments." =245-254.= Poems: Tennyson, To =Virgil=, of which a few stanzas are given in the text; R. C. Rogers, Virgil's Tomb. =Æneas= and =Anchises=: Chaucer, Hous of Fame, 165; 140-470 (pictures of Troy); Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida; Tempest, II, i; 2 Henry VI, V, ii; Julius Cæsar, I, ii; Antony and Cleopatra, IV, ii; Hamlet, II, ii; Waller, Panegyric to the Lord-Protector (The Stilling of Neptune's Storm). =Dido=: Chaucer, Legende of Good Women, 923; Sir Thomas Wyatt, The Song of Iopas (unfinished); Marlowe, Tragedy of Dido, Queen of Carthage; Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra, IV, xii; Titus Andronicus, II, iii; Hamlet, II, ii. =Palinurus=: see Scott's Marmion, Introd. to Canto I (with reference to the death of William Pitt). The =Sibyl=. The following legend of the Sibyl is fixed at a later date. In the reign of one of the Tarquins there appeared before the king a woman who offered him nine books for sale. The king refused to purchase them, whereupon the woman went away and burned three of the books, and returning offered the remaining books for the same price she had asked for the nine. The king again rejected them; but when the woman, after burning three books more, returned and asked for the three remaining the same price which she had before asked for the nine, his curiosity was excited, and he purchased the books. They were found to contain the destinies of the Roman state. They were kept in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, preserved in a stone chest, and allowed to be inspected only by especial officers appointed for that duty, who on great occasions consulted them and interpreted their oracles to the people. There were various Sibyls; but the Cumæan Sibyl, of whom Ovid and Virgil write, is the most celebrated of them. Ovid's story of her life protracted to one thousand years may be intended to represent the various Sibyls as being only reappearances of one and the same individual. =_Illustrative._= Young, in the Night Thoughts, alludes to the Sibyl. See also Shakespeare, 1 Henry VI, II, ii; Othello, III, iv. =_In Art._= Figs. 181-183, in text. The Virgil of Raphael (drawing in the Museum, Venice); the Æneas of the Ægina Marbles (Glyptothek, Munich). P. Guérin's painting, Æneas at the Court of Dido; Raphael, Dido; Turner, Dido building Carthage. The Sibyls in Michelangelo's frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, Rome; the Cumæan Sibyl of Domenichino; Elihu Vedder's Cumæan Sibyl. =255-257. Rhadamanthus=: E. W. Gosse, The Island of the Blest. =Tantalus=: Cowper, The Progress of Error; L. Morris, Epic of Hades; W. W. Story, Tantalus. =Ixion=: poem by Browning in Jocoseria. See Pope, St. Cecilia's Day, 67; Rape of the Lock, 2, 133. =Sisyphus=: Lord Lytton, Death and Sisyphus; L. Morris, in The Epic of Hades. =The teachings of Anchises= to Æneas, respecting the nature of the human soul, were in conformity with the doctrines of the Pythagoreans. Pythagoras (born about 540 B.C.) was a native of the island of Samos, but passed the chief portion of his life at Crotona in Italy. He is therefore sometimes called "the Samian," and sometimes "the philosopher of Crotona." When young he traveled extensively and is said to have visited Egypt, where he was instructed by the priests, and afterwards to have journeyed to the East, where he visited the Persian and Chaldean Magi, and the Brahmins of India. He established himself at Crotona, and enjoined sobriety, temperance, simplicity, and silence upon his throngs of disciples. _Ipse dixit_ (Pythagoras said so) was to be held by them as sufficient proof of anything. Only advanced pupils might question. Pythagoras considered _numbers_ as the essence and principle of all things, and attributed to them a real and distinct existence; so that, in his view, they were the elements out of which the universe was constructed. As the numbers proceed from the monad or unit, so he regarded the pure and simple essence of the Deity as the source of all the forms of nature. Gods, demons, and heroes are emanations of the Supreme, and there is a fourth emanation, the human soul. This is immortal, and when freed from the fetters of the body, passes to the habitation of the dead, where it remains till it returns to the world, to dwell in some other human or animal body; at last, when sufficiently purified, it returns to the source from which it proceeded. This doctrine of the transmigration of souls (metempsychosis), which was originally Egyptian and connected with the doctrine of reward and punishment of human actions, was the chief reason why the Pythagoreans killed no animals. Ovid represents Pythagoras saying that in the time of the Trojan War he was Euphorbus, the son of Panthus, and fell by the spear of Menelaüs. Lately, he said, he had recognized his shield hanging among the trophies in the Temple of Juno at Argos. On =Metempsychosis=, see the essay in the Spectator (No. 343) on the Transmigration of Souls; Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice (Gratiano to Shylock). =Harmony of the Spheres.= The relation of the notes of the musical scale to numbers, whereby harmony results from proportional vibrations of sound, and discord from the reverse, led Pythagoras to apply the word _harmony_ to the visible creation, meaning by it the just adaptation of parts to each other. This is the idea which Dryden expresses in the beginning of his song for St. Cecilia's Day, "From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This everlasting frame began." In the center of the universe (as Pythagoras taught) there was a central fire, the principle of life. The central fire was surrounded by the earth, the moon, the sun, and the five planets. The distances of the various heavenly bodies from one another were conceived to correspond to the proportions of the musical scale. See Merchant of Venice, Act V (Lorenzo and Jessica), for the Music of the Spheres; also Milton, Hymn on the Nativity. See Longfellow's Verses to a Child, and Occultation of Orion, for Pythagoras as inventor of the lyre. =260. Camilla.= Pope, illustrating the rule that "the sound should be an echo to the sense," says: When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line, too, labors and the words move slow; Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, or skims along the main. Essay on Criticism. =268-281.= On Norse mythology, see R. B. Anderson, Norse Mythology, or the Religion of our Forefathers (Chicago, 1875); Anderson, Horn's Scandinavian Literature (Chicago, S. C. Griggs & Co., 1884); Dasent, Popular Tales from the Norse (transl. from P. C. Asbjörnsen, New York, 1859); Thorpe's translation of Sæmund's Edda, 2 vols. (London, 1866); Icelandic Poetry or Edda of Sæmund, transl. into English verse (Bristol, A. S. Cottle, 1797); Augusta Larned, Tales from the Norse Grandmother (New York, 1881); H. W. Mabie, Norse Stories (Boston, 1882). A critical edition of the Elder Edda is Sophus Bugge's (Christiania, 1867). The Younger Edda: Edda Snorra Sturlasonar, 2 vols. (Hafniae, 1848-1852); by Thorleif Jonsson (Copenhagen, 1875); Translation: Anderson's Younger Edda (Chicago, S. C. Griggs & Co., 1880) (see references at foot of pp. 458-461 and in =C. 282=). Illustrative poems: Gray, Ode on the Descent of Odin, Ode on the Fatal Sisters; Matthew Arnold, Balder Dead; Longfellow, Tegnér's Drapa, on Balder's Death; William Morris, The Funeral of Balder, in The Lovers of Gudrun (Earthly Paradise); Robert Buchanan, Balder the Beautiful; W. M. W. Call, Balder; and Thor. Sydney Dobell's Balder does not rehearse the Norse myth. It is a poem dealing with the spiritual maladies of the time, excellent in parts, but confused and uneven. Longfellow's Saga of King Olaf (the Musician's Tale, Wayside Inn) is from the Heimskri[.n]gla, or Book of Stories of the Kings, edited by Snorri Sturlason. Many of the cantos of the Saga throw light on Norse mythology. See also the Hon. Roden Noël's Ragnarok (in the Modern Faust), for an ethical modification of the ancient theme. =Anses= (the Asa-folk, Æsir, etc.). The word probably means _ghost_, _ancestral_ _spirit_,--of such kind as the Manes of the Romans. The derivation may be from the root _AN_, 'to breathe,' whence _animus_ (Vigfusson and Powell, Corp. Poet. Bor. 1, 515). According to Jordanes, the Anses were demigods, ancestors of royal races. The main cult of the older religion was ancestor-worship, Thor and Woden being worshiped by a tribe, but each family having its own _anses_, or deified ancestors (Corp. Poet. Bor. 2, 413). =Elf= was another name used of spirits of the dead. Later it sinks to the significance of "fairy." Indeed, say Vigfusson and Powell, half our ideas about fairies are derived from the heathen beliefs as to the spirits of the dead, their purity, kindliness, homes in hillocks (cf. the Irish "folk of the hills," _Banshees_, etc.) (Corp. Poet. Bor. 2, 418). The =Norse Religion= consists evidently of two distinct strata: the lower, of gods, that are personifications of natural forces, or deified heroes, with regular sacrifices, with belief in ghosts, etc.; the upper, of doctrines introduced by Christianity. To the latter belong the Last Battle to be fought by Warrior-Angels and the Elect against the Beast, the Dragon, and the Demons of Fire (Corp. Poet. Bor. 2, 459). =Odin= or =Woden= was first the god of the heaven, or heaven itself, then husband of earth, god of war and of wisdom, lord of the ravens, lord of the gallows (which was called Woden's tree or Woden's steed). =Frigga= is Mother Earth. =Thor= is the lord of the hammer--the thunderbolt, the adversary of giants and all oppressors of man. He is dear to man, always connected with earth,--the husband of _Sif_ (the Norse Ceres). His goat-drawn car makes the rumbling of the thunder. =Freyr= means _lord_; patron of the Swedes, harvest-god. =Balder= means also _lord_ or _king_. On the one hand, his attributes recall those of Apollo; on the other hand, his story appeals to, and is colored by, the Christian imagination. He is another figure of that radiant type to which belong all bright and genial heroes, righters of wrong, blazing to consume evil, gentle and strong to uplift weakness: Apollo, Hercules, Perseus, Achilles, Sigurd, St. George, and many another. =Höder= is the "adversary." =Nanna=, Balder's wife, is the ensample of constancy; her name is _maiden_. =282.= The =Volsunga Saga=. The songs of the Elder Edda, from which Eirikr Magnússon and William Morris draw their Story of the Volsungs and the Nibelungs (London, 1870), are The Lay of Helgi the Hunding's-Bane, The Lay of Sigrdrifa, The Short Lay of Sigurd, The Hell-Ride of Brynhild, The Lay of Brynhild, The Ancient Lay of Gudrun, The Song of Atli, The Whetting of Gudrun, The Lay of Hamdir, The Lament of Oddrun. For translations of these fragments, see pp. 167-270 of the volume mentioned above. For the originals and literal translations of these and other Norse lays of importance, see Vigfusson and Powell's Corpus Poeticum Boreale; and Vigfusson's Sturlunga Saga, 2 vols. For the story of Sigurd, read William Morris' spirited epic, Sigurd the Volsung. Illustrative of the Norse spirit are Motherwell's Battle-Flag of Sigurd, the Wooing Song of Jarl Egill Skallagrim, and the Sword Chant of Thorstein Raudi; also Dora Greenwell's Battle-Flag of Sigurd; and Charles Kingsley's Longbeard's Saga, in Hypatia. Baldwin's Story of Siegfried (New York, 1888) is a good introduction for young people. =283.= The =Nibelungenlied=. The little book entitled Echoes from Mist Land, by Auber Forestier (Chicago, Griggs & Co., 1877) will be of value to the beginner. Other translations are made by A. G. Foster-Barham (London, 1887) and by W. N. Lettsom, The Fall of the Nibelungers (London, 1874), both in verse. See also T. Carlyle, Nibelungenlied (Crit. Miscell.), Essays, 2, 220. Modern German editions by Simrock, Bartsch, Marbach, and Gerlach are procurable. The edition by Werner Hahn (Uebersetzung d. Handschrift A, Collection Spemann, Berlin u. Stuttgart) has been used in the preparation of this account. The original was published in part by Bodmer in 1757; later, in full by C. H. Myller, by K. K. Lachmann (Nibelunge Nôt mit der Klage, 1826); by K. F. Bartsch (Der Nibelunge Nôt, 2 vols. in 3, 1870-1880), and in Pfeiffer's Deutsch. Classik. des Mittelalt., Vol. 3, (1872); and by others (see James Sime's _Nibelungenlied_, Encyc. Brit.). Of some effect in stimulating interest were Dr. W. Jordan's Studies and Recitations of the Nibelunge, which comprised the Siegfried Saga, and Hildebrandt's Return. Especially of value is Richard Wagner's series of operas, The Ring of the Nibelung, =284-288=. In painting, Schnorr von Carolsfeld's wall pictures illustrative of the Nibelungenlied, in the royal palace at Munich, are well known; also the illustrations of the four operas by J. Hoffmann, and by Th. Pixis. =282-283.= Historically, =Siegfried= has been identified, variously, with (1) the great German warrior Arminius (or Hermann), the son of Sigimer, chief of the tribe of the Cherusci, who inhabited the southern part of what is now Hanover and Brunswick. Born 18 B.C. and trained in the Roman army, in the year 9 A.D. he overcame with fearful slaughter the Roman tyrants of Germany, defeating the Roman commander Varus and his legions in the Teutoburg Forest in the valley of the Lippe; (2) Sigibert, king of the Ripuarian Franks, who in 508 A.D. was treacherously slain while taking a midday nap in the forest; (3) Sigibert, king of the Austrasian Franks whose history recalls more than one event of the Sigurd and Siegfried stories; for he discovered a treasure, fought with and overcame foreign nations,--the Huns, the Saxons, the Danes,--and finally in consequence of a quarrel between his wife Brünhilde and his sister-in-law Fredegunde, was, in 576 A.D., assassinated by the retainers of the latter; (4) Julius, or Claudius Civilis, the leader of the Batavi in the revolt against Rome, 69-70 A.D. It is probable that in Sigurd and Siegfried we have recollections combined of two or more of these historic characters. Mythologically, =Sigurd= (of the shining eyes that no man might face unabashed) has been regarded as a reflection of the god Balder. =Gunnar= and =Gunther= are, historically, recognized in a slightly known king of the Burgundians, Gundicar, who with his people was overwhelmed by the Huns in 437 A.D. =Atli= and =Etzel= are poetic idealizations of the renowned Hunnish chieftain, Attila, who united under his rule the German and Slavonic nations, ravaged the Eastern Roman Empire between 445 and 450 A.D., and, invading the Western Empire, was defeated by the Romans in the great battle of Châlons-sur-Marne, 451. He died 454 A.D. =Dietrich of Berne= (Verona) bears some very slight resemblance to Theodoric, the Ostrogoth, who, between 493 and 526 A.D., ruled from Italy what had been the Western Empire. In these poems, however, his earlier illustrious career is overlooked; he is merely a refugee in the court of the Hunnish king, and, even so, is confounded with uncles of his who had been retainers of Attila; for the historic Theodoric was not born until two years after the historic Attila's death. These historic figures were, of course, merely suggestions for, or contributions to, the great heroes of the epics, not prototypes; the same is true of any apparently confirmed historic forerunners of Brynhild, or Gudrun, or Kriemhild. The mythological connection of these epics with the Norse myths of the seasons, Sigurd being Balder of the spring, and Hogni Höder of winter and darkness, is ingenious; but, except as reminding us of the mythic material which the bards were likely to recall and utilize, it is not of substantial worth. In the Norse version, the name =Nibelung= is interchangeable with the patronymic =Giuking=,--it is the name of the family that ruins Sigurd. But, in the German version, the name is of purely mythical import: the Nibelungs are not a human race; none but Siegfried may have intercourse with them. The land of the Nibelungs is equally vague in the German poem; it is at one time an island, again a mountain, and in one manuscript it is confounded with Norway. But mythically it is connected with Niflheim, the kingdom of Hela, the shadowy realm of death. The earth, that gathers to her bosom the dead, cherishes also in her bosom the hoard of gold. Naturally, therefore, the hoard is guarded by Alberich, the dwarf, for dwarfs have always preferred the underworld. So (according to Werner Hahn, and others) there is a deep mythical meaning in the Lay of the Nibelungs: beings that dwell far from the light of day; or that, possessing the riches of mortality, march toward the land of death. =284-288.= Wagner finished this series of operas in 1876. For a translation the reader is referred to the four librettos, Englished by Frederick Jameson (Schott & Co., London); or to the series published by Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., New York. =298. Homer= is also called Melesigenes, son of Meles--the stream on which Smyrna was built. The Homeridæ, who lived on Chios, claimed to be descended from Homer. They devoted themselves to the cultivation of epic poetry. =Arion.= See George Eliot's poem beginning Arion, whose melodic soul Taught the dithyramb to roll. =Other Greek Poets of Mythology= to be noted are =Callimachus= (260 B.C.), whose Lock of Berenice is reproduced in the elegiacs of Catullus, and from whose Origins (of sacred rites) Ovid drew much of his information. Also =Nicander= (150 B.C.), whose Transformations, and =Parthenius=, whose Metamorphoses furnished material to the Latin poet. With Theocritus should be read =Bion= and =Moschus=, all three masters of the idyl and elegy. See Andrew Lang's translation of Theocritus, Bion, and Moschus; and the verses by Dobson and Gosse with which Lang prefaces the translation. =Lycophron= (260 B.C.) wrote a poem called Alexandra, on the consequences of the voyage of Paris to Sparta. The Loves of Hero and Leander were probably written by a grammarian, =Musæus=, as late as 500 A.D. =Translations of Greek Poets.= The best verse translations of Homer are those of Chapman, Pope, the Earl of Derby, Cowper, and Worsley. An excellent prose translation of the Iliad is that of Lang, Leaf, and Myers (London, Macmillan & Co., 1889); of the Odyssey, that by Butcher and Lang (London, Macmillan & Co., 1883); or the translation into rhythmical prose by G. H. Palmer (Boston, Houghton Mifflin Co., 1892). =The Tragic Poets.= Plumptre's translations of Æschylus and Sophocles, 2 vols. (New York, Routledge, 1882); A. S. Way's translation of Euripides, into verse (London, 1894); Wodhull, Potter, and Milman's translation of Euripides in Morley's Universal Library (London, Routledge, 1888); Potter's Æschylus, Francklin's Sophocles, Wodhull's Euripides, 5 vols. (London, 1809). Other translations of Æschylus are J. S. Blackie's (1850); T. A. Buckley's (London, Bohn, 1848); E. A. A. Morshead's (1881); and Verrall's;--of Sophocles: Thos. Dale's, into verse, 2 vols. (1824); R. Whitelaw's, into verse (1883); Lewis Campbell's Seven Plays, into verse (1883);--of Euripides: T. A. Buckley's, 2 vols. (London, Bohn, 1854-1858); and Verrall's. =Other Poets.= Lang's prose translation of Theocritus, Bion, and Moschus; C. S. Calverley's verse translation of Theocritus (Boston, 1906). Pindar,--Odes, transl. by F. A. Paley (London, 1868); by Ernest Myers (London, 1874). Translations of Greek Lyric Poets,--Collections from the Greek Anthology, by Bland and Merivale (London, 1833); The Greek Anthology, by Lord Neaves, Ancient Classics for English Readers Series (London, 1874); Bohn's Greek Anthology, by Burges (London, 1852). On Homer, Hesiod, Theocritus, the tragic poets, Pindar, etc., see also Collins' excellent series of Ancient Classics for English Readers, Philadelphia (Lippincott); and the series entitled "English Translations from Ancient and Modern Poems," by Various Authors, 3 vols. (London, 1810). Also W. C. Wilkinson's College Greek Course, and College Latin Course, in English (1884-1886). Of Æschylus read the Prometheus Bound, to illustrate =15=; the Agamemnon, Choëphori, and Eumenides, to illustrate =193=, =228-230=; and the Seven against Thebes, for =187=. Of Sophocles read [OE]dipus Rex, [OE]dipus at Colonus, Antigone, with =182-185=, etc.; Electra, with =228=; Ajax and Philoctetes, with the Trojan War; Women of Trachis, with =162=. Of Euripides read Medea, Ion, Alcestis, Iphigenia in Aulis and in Tauris, Electra. =299. Roman Poets. Horace= (65 B.C.) in his Odes, Epodes, and Satires makes frequent reference and allusion to the common stock of mythology, sometimes telling a whole story, as that of the daughters of Danaüs. =Catullus= (87 B.C.), the most original of Roman love-poets, gives us the Nuptials of Peleus and Thetis (for selections in English hexameters, see =177= and =191=), the Lock of Berenice, and the Atys. =Manilius= of the age of Augustus wrote a poem on Astronomy, which contains a philosophic statement of star-myths. =Valerius Flaccus= (d. 88 A.D.) based his Argonautics upon the poem of that name by Apollonius of Rhodes. =Statius= (61 A.D.) revived in the brilliant verses of his Thebaid and his Achilleïd the epic myths and epic machinery, but not the vigor and naturalness of the ancient style. To a prose writer, =Hyginus=, who lived on terms of close intimacy with Ovid, a fragmentary work called the Book of Fables, which is sometimes a useful source of information, and four books of Poetical Astronomy, have been attributed. The works, as we have them, could not have been written by a friend of the cultivated Ovid. =Translations and Studies.= For a general treatment of the great poets of Rome, the student is referred to W. L. Collins' series of Ancient Classics for English Readers (Philadelphia, Lippincott). For the Cupid and Psyche of =Apuleius=, read Walter Pater's Marius the Epicurean (London, 1885). Of translations, the following are noteworthy: Ovid,--the Metamorphoses, by Dryden, Addison, and others; into English blank verse by Ed. King (Edinburgh, 1871); prose by Riley (London, 1851); verse by Geo. Sandys (London, 1626). Virgil: complete works into prose by J. Lonsdale and S. Lee (New York, Macmillan); Æneid, translations,--into verse by John Conington (London, 1873); into dactylic hexameter by Oliver Crane (New York, 1888); the Æneids into verse by Wm. Morris (London, 1876); and by Theodore C. Williams (Boston, Houghton Mifflin Co.); Bks. 1-4, by Stanyhurst (Arber's Reprint) (1582); Æneis, by Dryden. Catullus: transl. by Robinson Ellis (London, 1871); by Sir Theodore Martin (Edinburgh, 1875). Horace: transl. by Theodore Martin (Edinburgh, 1881); by Smart (London, 1853); Odes and Epodes in Calverley's translations (London, 1886); Odes, etc., by Conington (London, 1872); Odes and Epodes, by Lord Lytton (New York, 1870); complete, by E. C. Wickham (Oxford, Clarendon Press); Odes, by A. S. Way (London, 1876) and Epodes (1898). Statius: Thebaid, transl. by Pope. =300.= For =Scandinavian literature=, see footnotes to =300=, and references in =C. 268-282=. =Runes= were "the letters of the alphabets used by all the old Teutonic tribes.... The letters were even considered magical, and cast into the air written separately upon chips or spills of wood, to fall, as fate determined, on a cloth, and then be read by the interpreters.... The association of the runic letters with heathen mysteries and superstition caused the first Christian teachers to discourage, and, indeed, as far as possible, suppress their use. They were therefore superseded by the Latin alphabet, which in First English was supplemented by retention of two of the runes, named 'thorn' and 'wen,' to represent sounds of 'th' and 'w,' for which the Latin alphabet had no letters provided. Each rune was named after some object whose name began with the sound represented. The first letter was F, Feoh, money; the second U, Ur, a bull; the third Th, Thorn, a thorn; the fourth O, Os, the mouth; the fifth R, Rad, a saddle; the sixth C, Cen, a torch; and the six sounds being joined together make Futhorc, which is the name given to the runic A B C."--MORLEY, English Writers, 1, 267. See also Vigfusson and Powell's Corpus Poeticum Boreale, 2, 691, under Runes and Rune-Stones; Cleasby and Vigfusson's Icelandic-English Dictionary; and George Stephens' Old Northern Runic Monuments, 2 vols. (London, 1866-1868). =301.= For =Translations of the Nibelungenlied=, see =C. 283=. For other German lays of myth,--the Gudrun, the Great Rose Garden, the Horned Siegfried, etc.,--see Vilmar's Geschichte der deutschen National-Litteratur, 42-101 (Leipzig, 1886). See also, in general, Grimm's Deutsche Mythologie (Göttingen, 1855); Ludlow's Popular Epics of the Middle Ages, 2 vols. (London, 1865); George T. Dippold's Great Epics of Mediæval Germany (Boston, 1891). =302. Egyptian.= See Birch's Guide to the First and Second Egyptian Rooms, British Museum; Miss A. B. Edwards' A Thousand Miles up the Nile (London, 1876). _For the principal divinities, see Index to this work._ =303. Indian.= Max Müller's translation of the Rig-Veda-Sanhita; Sacred Books of the East, 35 vols., edited by Max Müller,--the Upanishads, Bhagavadgita, Institutes of Vishnu, etc., translated by various scholars (Oxford, 1874-1890); Müller's History of Sanskrit Literature (London, 1859); Weber's History of Indian Literature (London, 1878); H. H. Wilson's Rig-Veda-Sanhita, 6 vols. (London, 1850-1870), and his Theatre of the Hindus, 2 vols. (London, 1871); Muir's Sanskrit Texts, and his Principal Deities of the Rig-Veda, 5 vols. (London, 1868-1873); J. Freeman Clarke's Ten Great Religions (Boston, 1880); the Mahâbhârata, translated by Protap Chundra Roy, Nos. 1-76 (Calcutta, 1883-1893). See Indian Idylls, by Edwin Arnold; The Episode of Nala,--Nalopákhyánam,--translated by Monier Williams (Oxford, 1879). Of the Râmâyana, a paraphrase (in brief) is given by F. Richardson in the Iliad of the East (London, 1870). Sir William Jones' translation of the Sakuntala; E. A. Reed's Hindu Literature, with translations (Chicago, 1891), W. Ward's History, Literature, and Mythology of the Hindoos, 3 vols. (London, 1822). On Buddhism, read Arnold's Light of Asia. _For the chief divinities of the Hindus, see Index to this work._ =304. Persian.= J. Freeman Clarke's Ten Great Religions; Johnson's Oriental Religions; Haug's Essays on the Sacred Language, Literature, etc., of the Parsis, by E. W. West (Boston, 1879). In illustration should be read Moore's Fire-Worshipers in Lalla Rookh. FOOTNOTES: [422] For assistance in collecting references to English poetry the author is indebted to Miss M. B. Clayes, a graduate of the University of California. [423] Popular etymology. The suffix _[=i]on_ is patronymic. [424] Popular etymology. The root of the name indicates _Fire-god_. [425] For Latin names, see Index or Chapters II-V. [426] The Olympian Religion (_No. Am. Rev._ May, 1892). See his Juventus Mundi. [427] Furtwängler (Meisterw. d. gr. Plastik) condemns the ægis. [428] This _dawn_ theory is certainly far-fetched. A FEW RULES FOR THE ENGLISH PRONUNCIATION OF GREEK AND LATIN PROPER NAMES [These rules will cover most cases, but they are not intended to exhaust the subject. The reader is referred to the Latin grammars and the English dictionaries.] I. _Quantity._ The reader must first ascertain whether the second last syllable of the word is long. In general a syllable is long in quantity: (1) If it contains a diphthong, or a long vowel: _Bau_-cis, Ac-_tae_-on, _M[=e]_-tis, O-_r[=i]_-on, _Fl[=o]_-ra. (2) If its vowel, whether long or short, is followed by _j_, _x_, or _z_, or by any two consonants except a mute and a liquid: _A´_-jax, Meg-a-_ba´_-zus, A-_dras´_-tus. _Note (a)._ Sometimes two vowels come together without forming a diphthong. In such cases the diæresis is, in this volume, used to indicate the division: _e.g._ Men-e-l[=a]'-_üs_, Pe-n[=e]'-_üs_. _Note (b)._ The _syllable_ formed by a short vowel before a mute with _l_ or _r_ is sometimes long and sometimes short: _e.g._ Cle-o-_p[=a]'_-tra, or Cle-op´-_[)a]_-tra; Pa-_tr[=o]'_-clus, or Pat´-_r[)o]_-clus. II. _Accent._ (1) The accent may be principal, or subordinate: Hel^{2}-les-pon´-tus. (2) =The principal accent falls on the second last syllable (_penult_): Am-phi-tri´-te; or on the third last syllable (_antepenult_): Am-phit´-ry-on.= _Note (a)_ In words of two syllables, it falls on the _penult_: Cir´-ce. _Note (b)_ =In words of more than two syllables, it falls on the _penult_ when that syllable is long; otherwise, on the _antepenult_: Æ-n[=e]'-as, Her´-c[)u]-les.= (3) The subordinate accent: _Note (a)_ If only two syllables precede the principal accent, the subordinate accent falls on the first syllable of the word: _Hip^{2}-po_-cr[=e]'ne. _Note (b)_ If more than two syllables precede the principal accent, the laws governing the principal accent apply to those preceding syllables: _Cas^2-s[)i]-o_-p[=e]'-a. =_Note._ In the Index of this work, when the _penult_ of a word is long, it is marked with the accent; when the penult is short, the _antepenult_ is marked.= The reader should however bear in mind that a _syllable_ may be long even though it contain a short vowel, as by Rule I, (2), above. III. _Vowels and Consonants._ These rules depend upon those of Syllabication: (1) A vowel generally has its _long_ English sound when it ends a syllable: _He´-ro_, _I´-o_, _Ca´-cus_, _I-tho´-me_, _E-do´-ni_, _My-ce´-næ_. (2) A vowel generally has its _short_ English sound in a syllable that ends in a consonant: _Hel´-en_, _Sis´_-y-_phus_, _Pol_-y-phe´-_mus_. But _e_ in the termination _es_ has its long sound: Her´_mes_, A-tri´-_des_. (3) The vowel _a_ has an _obscure_ sound when it ends an unaccented syllable: A-chæ´-_a_; so, also, the vowel _i_ or _y_, not final, after an accented syllable: Hes-per´-_i_-des; and sometimes _i_ or _y_ in an unaccented first syllable: _Ci_-lic´-i-a. (4) Consonants have their usual English sounds; but _c_ and _g_ are soft before _e_, _i_, _y_, _æ_, and _[oe]_: _Ce´_-to, _Ge´_-ry-on, _Gy´-ges_; _ch_ has the sound of _k_: _Chi´_-os; and _c_, _s_, and _t_, immediately preceded by the accent and standing before _i_ followed by another vowel, commonly have the sound of _sh_: _Sic´_-y-on (but see Latin grammars and English dictionaries for exceptions). IV. _Syllabication._ (1) The penultimate syllable ends with a vowel: _e.g._ Pe-_ne´_-us, I-_tho´_-me, _A´_-treus, Hel´-_e_-nus; _Except when_ its vowel is followed by _x_ or by two consonants (not a mute with _l_ or _r_), then the vowel is joined with the succeeding consonant: _Nax_-os, _Cir_-ce, Aga-_mem_-non. (2) Other syllables (not ultimate or penultimate) end with a vowel: _e.g._ _Pi_-ræ-us; _Except when (a)_ the vowel is followed by _x_ or any two consonants (not a mute with _l_ or _r_): _e.g._ _Ix_-i´-on, Pel-o-_pon_-ne´-sus; _and when (b)_ the syllable is accented and its vowel followed by one or more consonants: _e.g._ _An_^2-ax-_ag´_-o-ras, Am-_phic´_ty-on, [OE]d-'i-pus. _Note (a)._ But an accented _a_, _e_, or _o_ before a single consonant (or a mute with _l_ or _r_), followed by _e_, _i_, or _y_ before another vowel, is not joined with the succeeding consonant, and consequently has the long sound: Pau-_s[=a]'_-ni-as; De-_m[=e]'_-tri-us. _Note (b)._ An accented _u_ before a single consonant (or mute with _l_ or _r_) is not joined with the succeeding consonant, and consequently has the long sound: _J[=u]'_-pi-ter. (3) =All words have as many syllables as they have vowels and diphthongs.= INDEX OF MYTHOLOGICAL SUBJECTS AND THEIR SOURCES [Ordinary figures refer to pages of the Text. Figures in italics preceded by _C._ refer to sections of the Commentary and incidentally to the corresponding sections in the Text. In the case of words of which the correct pronunciation has not seemed to be clearly indicated by their accentuation and syllabication, the sounds of the letters have been denoted thus: [=a], like _a_ in _gr[=a]y_; [='a], like _[=a]_, only less prolonged; [)a], like _a_ in _h[)a]ve_; ä, like _a_ in _fär_; [.a], like _a_ in _sof[.a]_; [a:] and au like _a_ in _[a:]ll_; æ, [=e], and [oe], like _ee_ in _meet_; [='e], like _[=e]_, only less prolonged; [)e], like _e_ in _[)e]nd_; ê, like _e_ in _thêre_; [~e], like _e_ in _[~e]rr_; [=i], like _i_ in _p[=i]ne_; [)i], like _i_ in _p[)i]n_; [=o], like _[=o]_ in _n[=o]te_; [='o], like _[=o]_, only less prolonged; [)o], like _o_ in _n[)o]t_; ô, like _o_ in _ôrb_; [)oo], like _oo_ in _f[)oo]t_; [=oo], like _oo_ in _m[=oo]n_; ou, as in _out_; [=u], like _u_ in _[=u]se_; ü, like the French _u_; [-c] and [-c]h, like _k_; th, as in _the_; ç, like _s_; [=g], like _g_ in _[=g]et_; [.g], like _j_; [s+], like _z_; [.c]h, as in German _ach_; G, small capital, as in German _Hamburg_.] A´bas, 207 Ab-syr´tus, 232; _C. 163-167_ (Illustr.) [.A]-by´d[)o]s, 32, 142; _C. 34_ Ab´y-la, 219 [.A]-çes´t[=e][s+], 352, 368, 369 [.A]-çe´t[=e][s+], 152; the vengeance of Bacchus, 154, 155 [.A]-[-c]hæ´[.a]ns, their origin, 16; 274, 288; _C. 148_ (2) [.A]-[-c]ha´t[=e][s+], 366 [)A][-c]h-e-lo´us, myth of, 203, 204; _C. 146-147_ [)A][-c]h´e-r[)o]n, 47, 127, 327 [.A]-[-c]hil´l[=e][s+], 75, 91, 179, 237; his descent, 269, 272, 275, 276; character of, 274; in the Trojan War, 279-308; in Scyros, 279, 280; wrath of, 283; and Patroclus, 296; remorse of, 299; reconciliation with Agamemnon, 300; slays Hector and drags his body, 301-303; and Priam, 304-306; death of, 307, 308, 313, 328, 345, 453; _C. 190-194_ (1), _199, 207_ A´çis, 198, 200; _C. 141_ A´c[)o]n, _C. 138_ Acontius ([.a]-con´sh[)i]-us), _C. 64_ [.A]-cris´[)i]-us, 207; doom of, 208-214; _C. 149-154_ Ac-ro-çe-rau´nian Mountains, 118; _C. 93_ Ac-tæ´on, 89; myth of, 120-122, 261; _C. 59_, table E; _95_ Ad-me´ta, 218 Ad-me´tus, 104, 230; Lowell's Shepherd of King A., 105, 106; and Alcestis, 106-110 [.A]-do´nis, myth of, 126-128; Lang's translation of Bion's Lament for A., 126-128; _C. 100_ Ad-ras-te´a, 5 [.A]-dras´tus, 264, 265 Æ-aç´[)i]-d[=e][s+], Achilles, 272 Æ[.a]-cus, 51, 53, 246, 269; king of Ægina, 73, 75; _C. 190-194_ (1) Æ-æ´a, isle of, 318, 324, 328 Æ-e´t[=e][s+], 230-232; genealogy, _C. 172_ Æ´[.g]æ, palace of Neptune near, 56 Æ-[.g]æ´[)o]n, _C. 4_ Æ-[.g]e´[.a]n Sea, 177 Ægeus (e´j[=u]s), 235, 250, 251, 252, 256; _C. 61, 148_ (4), _174_ Æ-[.g]i´na, island of, 53; daughter of Asopus, myth of, 64, 73-75, 169; plague of the island, 73-75; _C. 61_ Æ[.g]is, of Jupiter, 21; of Minerva, 23, 213 Æ-[.g]is´thus, 275, 276, 314, 315; _C. 190-194_ (2), _228-230_ (In Art) Ægl[=e], a nymph in pastoral poetry Æg[)o]n, 185; _C. 129-130_ Æ-[.g]yp´tus, 207; _C. 149-154_ Æ-ne´[.a]s, 126, 168, 206, 265, 276, 280, 289, 290, 299-301; _C. 190-194_ (5), _207, 245-254_. See _Æneid_ Æ-ne´[.a]s Syl´vius, king of Alba Longa, third in descent from Æneas Æ-ne´id, 456; the narrative of, 346-372; from Troy to Italy, 346; the departure from Troy, the promised empire, 347; the Harpies, 348; Epirus, the Cyclopes, 349; resentment of Juno, 350; sojourn at Carthage, Dido, 350-352; Palinurus, Italy, 352; the Sibyl of Cumæ, 352-354, 361; the infernal regions, 354-358; the Elysian Fields, 358, 359; the valley of oblivion, 359; war between Trojans and Latins, 362-372; gates of Janus opened, 363; Camilla, 364; alliance with Evander, 365-367; site of future Rome, 366; Turnus' attack, 367; Nisus and Euryalus, 368-370; death of Mezentius, 370, 371; of Pallas and of Camilla, 371, 372; the final conflict, 372; _C. 245-260, 299_ Æ-o´l[)i]-a, 39 Æo-lus, of Thessaly, 16, 206, 214; myths of his family, 229-236; quest of the Golden Fleece, 230-233; connection with Medea, 233-236; _C. 38_ (9), _125, 148_ (5), table I. Æo-lus (wind god), 39, 170, 175, 177, 323, 324, 350; _C. 38_ (9), _125, 148_, (5), table I. See _Hippotades_ Æpytus (ep´[)i]-tus), 241 [.A]-[)e]r´o-p[=e], 275; genealogy, _C. 172, 190-194_ (2) Æschylus (es´k[)i]-lus), 455; references to, 265, 314-316, _C. 10-15_; translations, _C. 298_ Æsculapius (es-k[=u]-la´p[)i]-us), attributes of, 38; myth of, 104; 260, 296; _C. 38_ (8), _80_ Æ-se´pus, 179 Æs[)o]n, 230, 233, 234; _C. 163-167_ (Illustr.) Æsop, 2 Æther, 3; or Light, 4 Æ-th[)i]-o´p[)i]-a, 43, 97, 179, 211; _C. 128_ Æ-th[=i]'o-pis, 453 Æthra, 250, 251; _C. 174, 190-194_ (2) Ætna (et´na), Mount, 25, 96, 104, 159, 223; _C. 76_ Æ-to´l[)i]-a, 237 Æ-to´lus, 206; family of, 237-245; _C. 148_ (3), (5), table I; _168_ Africa, 350, 447, 448 Ag-[.a]-mem´n[)o]n, 99; family of, 275, 276, 455; in the Trojan War, 280-300; quarrel with Achilles, 284, 285; reconciliation, 300; return to Greece, and death, 314; 328; _C. 190-194_ (2), _196_ [.A]-ga´v[=e], 89, 153, 156, 261; _C. 57_, table D; _182-189_, table N Age of Gold. See _Golden Age_ [.A]-[.g]e´n[)o]r, father of Cadmus, 68, 87, 206, 207; genealogy, _C. 59, 148_ (1), _149-154_ [.A]-[.g]e´n[)o]r, son of Priam, 301 Aglaia ([.a]-gla´ya or [.a]-gla´[)i]-a), one of the Graces, 26, 36; wife of Vulcan, 26 Aglauros ([.a]-glô-r[)o]s), daughter of Cecrops, _C. 174_. See _Herse_ Agni (ag´n[=e]). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) [.A]-grot´[~e]-ra, _C. 32_. See _Diana_ Äh´r[)i]-m[.a]n, 463 A´jax the Great, son of Telamon, 237, 275, 276, 280, 286, 288, 293-299, 308, 328, 453; _C. 190-194_ (1), _204, 207_ A´jax the Less, son of Oïleus, king of the Locrians, a leader in the Trojan War, 286 Al´ba Lon´ga, 372 Alberich (äl´b[~e]r-[)i]G), in Wagner's Ring, 410-414, 419-428. See also _Andvari_ Al-çæ´us, 216, 453 Al-çes´tis, 106-110, 225, 282, 455; _C. 83_ Al-çi´d[=e][s+], 216; _C. 156-162_; genealogy, _149-154_, table J Al-çin´o-us, 332-337 Alc-mæ´[)o]n, 268 Alc-me´n[=e], 64, 107, 214, 215, 328 Alcyoneus (al-si´o-n[=u]s), 7. See _Giants, Greek_ [.A]-le[-c]'t[=o], 54, 363 Aleian ([.a]-le´y[.a]n) field, 215; _C. 155_ Alexander. See _Paris_ [.A]-lex´is, a beautiful youth in Virgil's second Eclogue Alfadur (äl´fä-d[=oo]r), 375, 395, 404. See _Odin_ [.A]-lo´[.a]-dæ, or [)A]l-o-[=i]'dæ. See _Aloeus_ Aloeus ([.a]-lo´[=u]s), or [.A]-lo´as, 93 Al-phe´n[)o]r, son of Niobe, 100 Alphesib[oe]us (al-fes-[)i]-be´us), an ideal singer in pastorals Al-phe´us, 118, 119, 218; _C. 93_ Alps, 97 Al-thæ´a, 237, 238, 240, 241, 242, 275; _C. 168_, table K Am-al-the´a, 5; _C. 146-147_ Amaryllis (am-[.a]-ril´is), a fair shepherdess of pastoral poetry (Theocritus, Virgil) Am-[.a]-se´nus river, 364 [.A]-ma´ta, 363 Am´[.a]-thus, 126, 149, 182; _C. 100_ Am´[.a]-zons, and Hercules, 219; and Theseus, 258; at Troy, 307; C. _156-162_ (Illustr.), _176-181_ (Interpret.) Ambrosia (am-bro´zh[)i]-a), 95; _C. 76_ Am´m[)o]n (Jupiter Ammon), temple and oracle of, 20; _C. 146-147_. See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) A´mor. See _Cupid_ Am-ph[)i]-[.a]-ra´us, 239, 265, 268, 451; _C. 148_ (5) Am-phil´o-[-c]hus, 268 Am-phi´[)o]n, 99, 100, 206, 451; myth of, 75-77; from Tennyson's Amphion, 76, 77; _C. 62_ Am-ph[)i]-tri´t[=e], the Nereïd, wife of Neptune, 55, 198, 454 Am-phit´ry-[)o]n, 216 Amphrysus (am-fri´sus) river, 105 Am-y-mo´n[=e], 170, 217; _C. 119-120_ Amyntas ([.a]-min´t[.a]s), a lovely boy in pastoral poetry. See _Virgil, Bucolics 3_ [.A]-nac´re-[)o]n, 453, 454 An-[.a]-dy-om´[)e]-n[=e] (_rising_ from the water), _C. 34_. See _Venus_ An-ax-[)a]r´e-t[=e], 195 An-çæ´us, 239 Ancestor worship in China, 437 An-[-c]hi´s[=e][s+], 125, 276, 280, 346-348, 353, 359, 360; _C. 190-194_ (5), _245-257_ An-çi´l[=e], _C. 28_ An-dræ´m[)o]n, 192 An-dro´[.g]e-us, 252 An-drom´[.a]-[-c]h[=e], 280, 291-293, 303, 313, 349; _C. 207_ An-drom´e-da, 169; and Perseus, 211-214, 215, 216; lines from Kingsley's Andromeda, 212; _C. 149-154_ Andvari (änd´vä-r[=e]), 401-405; as Alberich, 410-414, 419-428; _C. 282-283_ Angerbode (äng´[~e]r-bo´d[~e]), 387 An´s[=e][s+] (Æ´s[)i]r, Ä´sä-folk), 374, 376; _C. 268-281_ An-tæ´us, 170, 220 An-te´a, 214 An-te´n[)o]r, 288 An´t[='e]-r[)o]s, 35 An-thes-te´r[)i]-a, _C. 42, 110-112_ Anthology, Greek, translations of, _C. 298_ Anthropological method, 442 An-ti[=g]'o-n[=e], 263, 264, 266, 267; _C. 182-189_ An-til´o-[-c]hus, 179, 299 An-tin´o-us, 343 An-ti´o-p[=e], daughter of Asopus, 64, 328; myth of, 75-77; _C. 62_ An-ti´o-p[=e], wife of Theseus, 258, 259; _C. 174_, table M An-to´r[=e][s+], 370 [.A]-n[=u]'bis. See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) [.A]-pel´l[=e][s+], a Greek painter of the time of Alexander the Great. See _John Lyly's Alexander and Campaspe_ Apennines, 97 Aph-ro-di´t[=e] (foam-born). See _Venus_ A´pis, oracle of, _C. 308_. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) [.A]-pol´lo, Ph[oe]bus, and his lyre, 18; son of Latona, 19; meaning of names, 26; attributes, 26-29; among the Hyperboreans, the Delphians, his victory over Python, 26; the Pythian games, his oracles, patronage of music, etc., 27; favorite animals, 28; Shelley's Hymn of Apollo, 28; myths of, 91-117; the Pæan of victory, 92; victory over Tityus and the Aloadæ, 92, 93; A. and Hyacinthus, 93, 94; and Phaëthon, 94-98; sends a plague upon the Greeks before Troy, 98, 99; A. and Niobe, 99-103; and Psamathe and Linus, 103, 104; and Coronis and Æsculapius, 104; and the Cyclopes, 104; in exile, serves Admetus, 104-110; Lowell's Shepherd of King Admetus, 105, 106; serves Laomedon, 110; as a musician, Pan, Midas, Marsyas, 110-112; Shelley's Hymn of Pan, 111, 112; loves of A., Calliope, Cyrene, Daphne, 112-114; Lowell's lines upon Daphne, 114; Marpessa, 115, 116; quotations from Stephen Phillips' Marpessa, 115, 116; Clytie, 116, 117; quotation from Moore's Clytie, 117; A. and Orion, 122; and Mercury, 150, 151; and Neptune, 169; and Hercules, 216; and Daphnis, 223; in Trojan War, 283-285, 290, 296-304, 307, 308; Cassandra, 313; the Sibyl, 353, 361; interpretations of, 432, 434, 437, 440, 442, 445; _C. 30, 68, 72-73, 76-89, 109_ [.A]-pol-lo-do´rus, 455; references to, 75, 115, 122, 125, 160, 169, 177, 201, 207, 208, 214, 215, 230, 241, 242, 246, and footnotes _passim_ Ap-ol-lo´n[)i]-us (of Rhodes), 455; references to, 125, 193, 230, 242, 269; _C. 4_ Apuleius (ap-[=u]-le´yus), 457; references to, 128, 137; translation of, _C. 298_ Aquilo (ak´w[)i]-lo), 38 [.A]-rach´n[=e], myth of, 82-84; _C. 65-66_ Är-ca´di-a, 67, 110, 217, 218, 241, 265, 365, 366 Är´c[)a]s, son of Callisto, 67, 241; _C. 58_ and table D [=A]-re-op´[.a]-gus, Mars' Hill, on which the highest Athenian tribunal held its meetings. See _St. Paul's address, Acts 17, 22_ A´r[=e][s+]. See _Mars_ [)A]r-e-th[=u]´sa, myth of, 117-120; Shelley's poem, 118-120; and Ceres, 162; _C. 93_ Är´[.g][=e][s+], _C. 4_ Är´[.g]ives, 308 Är´go, the, 223, 230, 233; _C. 163-167_ Är´go-lis, _C. 149-154_ Ar-go-nau´tic expedition, 39, 222, 230-233, 269, 348; quotation from Dyer's Fleece, 230, 231 Argonauts (är´go-nôts), the, 222, 230-233, 242; W. Morris' Life and Death of Jason, 232, 233; _C. 163-167_ Är´g[)o]s (city and district), 22, 23, 103, 169, 206, 207, 214, 217, 264, 265, 268, 315, 370, 452; _C. 64, 149-154_ Är´gus, builder of the Argo, 230 Är´gus (Pan-op´tes), 34; myth of Io, Mercury, and A., 65-67, 439; _C. 57_ Är´gus, Ulysses' dog, 341 [=A]-r[)i]-ad´n[=e], 152; myth of, 156, 252-258, 259, 270; _C. 172_, table L, _176-181_ [.A]-ri´[)o]n, identified with Jonah, 440; account of, 453, 454; _C. 298_ [.A]-ri´[)o]n, the horse, 170 [)A]r-is-tæ´us, 112, 121, 165; myth of, 202, 203; _C. 145_ [)A]r-is-toph´[.a]-n[=e][s+], 455 [)A]r´is-t[)o]tle, reference to, 241 Är´n[=e], 170 Är-sin´o-[=e], 104, 150 Är´te-mis. See _Diana_ A´run[s+], 371, 372 Är´y[.a]n germ-theory, 448 Är´y[.a]n tribes and modern descendants, 448, 462 Ä´sä-folk. See _Anses_ As-ca´n[)i]-us, _C. 190-194_ (5). See _Iulus_ As-cle-pi´[.a]-dæ (As-cle´pi-os), _C. 80_. See _Æsculapius_ As´cra, 453 As´gärd, 2, 374, 389-392, 396, 397 Asia, 68, 153, 252, 448 Äsk, 374 [.A]-so´pus, 73, 75; _C. 61_ As´pho-del, the meads of, 49, 120 As-s[)a]r´[.a]-cus, grandfather of Anchises, _C. 190-194_ (5) As-syr´i-ans, the, _C. 34_ As-tär´t[=e], _C. 34, 59_ As-te´r[)i]-a, _C. 163-167_ As-træ´a, 15; _C. 18_ As-ty´[.a]-nax, 291-293, 303; _C. 190-194_ (5) At-[.a]-lan´ta (the Arcadian), daughter of Iasius, in the Calydonian hunt, 237-241; selections from Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon, 237-240; A. and Mars, 265; _C. 168_ At-[.a]-lan´ta (daughter of Sch[oe]neus of B[oe]otia), 139-141; extract from Landor's Hippomenes and Atalanta, 140, 141; cousin of Jason, 230; genealogy, _C. 103_ and table G, _148_ (5), table I A´t[=e], 300 Ath´[.a]-m[)a]s, 202, 229; _C. 103_, table G, _148_ (2), (5), table I [.A]-the´na or A-the´n[=e], 445; _C. 27_. See _Minerva_ Ath´ens, 23, 81, 82, 235, 246, 249, 250, 252, 258, 263, 308, 317, 452 A´th[)o]s, Mount, 96; _C. 76_ At-lan´tis, legend of, 52. See _Plato's Timæus_ At´l[.a]s, 6, 41; described, 57; his offspring, the Atlantides, 57; and Perseus, 211; and Hercules, 220; _C. 6_; genealogy, _148_ (5), table I, and _149-154_ Atli (ät´l[=e]). See _Attila_ Atmu (ät´m[=oo]). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) A´trax, 259 Atreus (a´tr[=oo]s), house of, 269, 275, 276; _C. 78, 190-194_ (2) [.A]-tri´d[=e][s+], 98; _C. 77_ At´ro-p[)o]s, a Fate, 38 At´t[)i]-ca, 207, 243, 249, 256 At´t[)i]-la, Atli, Etzel, 404, 409; _C. 282-283_ Audhumbla (ou´th[=oo]m-bla), 373 Au-[.g]e´[.a]s, Au-[.g]e´[.a]n stables, 218; _C. 156-162_ (Interpret.) Au-[.g]i´[.a]s. See _Augeas_ Au-gus´tan Age, 2, 456 Au-gus´tus, 61, 456 Au´lis, 280 Au´ra, 172, 173 Au-ro´ra, 39, 40, 43, 95, 123, 125, 148, 160, 172, 175, 176, 269; and Tithonus, 177-179; mother of Memnon, 179, 180; _C. 38_ (10), _123-124_, and table H Au-ro´ra Bo-re-a´lis, 376 Aus´ter, 38 Australians, mental state of contemporary native, 441; myths among, 448 Au-ton´o-[=e], 89, 121, 156, 261 Av-[.a]-tär´. See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Av´en-tine, Mount, 221; _C. 156-162_ (Textual) [.A]-v[~e]r´nus, Lake, 354 [.A]-ves´ta, 463 Bab-y-lo´ni-a, 147 B[)a]c´[-c]h[.a]-n[.a]ls, 44, 154, 155; _C. 110-112_ B[.a]c-[-c]h[)a]n´t[=e][s+], 44, 153, 258; _C. 110-112_ Bac´[-c]hus (Dionysus), 20; descent and attributes, 44, 45; quotation from Dryden's Alexander's Feast, 45; worshipers of, 44; the Roman Liber, 59; his mother, Semele, 72; B. and Vulcan, 91; myths of, 152-158; his wanderings, 152, 153; Pentheus, 153-156; story of Acetes, 154, 155; lines from Edmund Gosse's Praise of Dionysus, 156, 157; choice of Midas, 157, 158; B. and Neptune, 169; Ariadne, 257, 258; interpretation of ritual, 445; _C. 42, 60, 110-112_ Balaustion (b[.a]-l[a:]s´chon). See _Browning's Balaustion's Adventure_, Index of Authors B[a:]l´d[~e]r, 376, 460; death of, 387-393; extracts from M. Arnold's Balder Dead, 388-397; _C. 268-281, 282-283_ Balmung (bäl´m[)oo]ng), 409 Bards, 450, 458 Bas-s[)a]r´[)i]-d[=e][s+], _C. 42_ Bat´tus, a peasant who informed Apollo of Mercury's robbery of his cattle; or who, having promised secrecy to Mercury, told the whole story to Mercury disguised, and was petrified by the offended deity Bau´çis, 77-80 Bear, Great and Little, 43, 96; myth of, 67, 68 Beauty and the Beast, analogy of incident, _C. 101-102_ Bel-l[)e]r´o-ph[)o]n, 230, 290, 298, 432; and the Chimæra, 214, 215; _C. 155_ Bel-lo´na, 61; _C. 54_ Be´lus, king of Tyre, 206, 207, 351; genealogy, _C. 57_, table D, _148_ (1), _149-154_. Compare the deity Baal Belvedere (bel-v[='e]-d[=e]r´ or bel-v[='a]-d[=a]'r[=a]), the Apollo, _C. 30_ Berecyntia (b[)e]r-[)e]-sin´sh[)i]-a), _C. 41_. See _Cybele_ Berg-risar (b[)e]rG'r[=e]-sär), 376 B[)e]rne, Dietrich of, 409; _C. 282-283_ B[)e]r´o-[=e], 71 Bible, the Hebrew, 440 Bifrost (b[=e]f´r[)o]st), 374, 377, 389, 395 Bi´[)o]n, Lang's translation of his Lament for Adonis, 126-128; _C. 59, 298_ Biorn (b[+e]-ôrn´) of Scärd´sa, 459 Bi´t[)o]n, 80, 81; _C. 64_ B[oe]otia (be-o´sh[)i]-a), 139, 280, and _passim_ B[oe]otians (be-o´sh[)i]-ans), 170 Bo´na De´a, 61 Books of the Dead and of the Lower Hemisphere, 462 Bo-o´t[=e]s, 96; _C. 75_ B[=o]r, 373 Bo´re-as, 38, 350; _C. 38_ (9) Bori (bo´r[=e]), 373 Bos´pho-rus (the heifer's ford), a Thracian strait, crossed by Io Bragi (brä´[=g][=e]), 376 Bräh´ma and Bräh´m[.a]n-ism. See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Brän´stock, 398-400, 405 Brazen Age, the, 15 Breidablick (br[=a]'d[.a]-blik or br[=i]t´ap-lik), the home of Balder Briareus (bri´[.a]-r[=oo]s or bri-a´re-us), 354; _C. 4, 8_ Bri-se´is, 284; _C. 199_ Bro´mi-us, _C. 42_. See _Bacchus_ Bron´t[=e][s+], _C. 4_ Brunhild (br[)oo]n´h[)i]lt), 405-409; _C. 282-283_ Brünnhilde (brün-h[)i]l´d[~e]), in Wagner's Ring, 418-421, 424-430. See also _Brunhild_, _Brynhild_ Bru´tus, a mythical grandson of Æneas; fabled to have colonized the island called, after him, Britain Brynhild (brün´h[)i]lt), 402-404; _C. 282-283_ Buddha (b[)oo]d´[~e]). Family name, Gautama; given names, Siddartha ("in whom wishes are fulfilled") and Buddha ("he who knows"). Born 628 B.C., son of the king of Kapilavastu, north of Oude, India; died in his eighty-fifth year. Founder of Buddhism, which, in opposition to the dead creed and forms of Brahmanism, taught: "(1) Existence is only pain or sorrow. (2) The cause of pain or sorrow is desire. (3) In Nirvana all pain and sorrow cease. (4) Nirvana is attainable by the 'noble path´ of virtuous self-discipline." _Nirvana_ is both a means and an end. As a means, it is the process of renunciation by which the love of life and self are extinguished; as an end, it is the heaven of the Buddhist, a negative bliss consisting in absorption of the soul into the Infinite. The soul is the _Karma_, the sum total of a man's deeds, good and evil,--his character, by which is determined his state of future existence. The Karma passes through various earthly existences in the process of renunciation described above. See _Edward Clodd's Childhood of Religions_, _John Caird's Oriental Religions_ (Humboldt Library), _Encyc. Brit._, _Sir Edwin Arnold's Light of Asia_ Budlung (b[)oo]d´l[)oo]ng), 404, 405 Bull, Jupiter as the, 69; _C. 59_ Bur´gun-dy, 405, 407 Bush´men, mental state of, 441 B[=u]-si´ris, an Egyptian despot, who sacrificed all strangers entering his realm, but was put to death by Hercules B[=u]'t[=o], an Egyptian goddess, identified by the Greeks with Leto Byrsa (b[~e]r´sa), 351 Ca´cus, myth of, 221; _C. 156-162_ Cad´mus, 17, 71, 206, 207; and the dragon, 87-90, 231; builds Thebes, 87, 89; marries Harmonia, 89; curse upon his family, 89, 90, 120, 153, 202, 229, 261, 265, 268; _C. 57_, table D, _59_, table E, _70_ Ca-d[=u]'çe-us, the, 34, 151 Ca-i´cus, 97; _C. 76_ Cal´a-is, 39, 230 Cal´[-c]h[.a]s, 281, 294, 311, 451 Cal-lim´[.a]-[-c]hus, _C. 298_ Cal-li´o-p[=e], the muse of epic poetry, 37; mother of Orpheus, 112, 165; _C. 38_ (4) Cal-l[)i]r´rho-[=e]. See _Chrysaor_ Cal-lis´t[=e], _C. 32, 58_ Cal-lis´t[=o], 64, 237, 241; myth of, 67, 68; _C. 58_ Cal´p[=e], 219 Cal´y-d[)o]n, 203, 225, 237, 265, 275; _C. 146-147_ Cal-y-do´ni-an Boar, the, 206, 237 Cal-y-do´ni-an Hunt, the, 225, 237-240 Calypso (c[.a]-lip´so), 331; _C. 231-244_ C[.a]-me´næ (Antevorta, Postvorta, Carmenta, and Egeria). The name comes from the root of _carmen_, song of prophecy, 62 C[.a]-mil´la, 364, 371, 372; _C. 260_ Cam´pus Martius (mar´sh[)i]-us), _C. 28_ Capaneus (cap´[.a]-n[=u]s), 265, 266 Cap´[)i]-to-line Hill, 114 Capys (ca´pis), father of Anchises, _C. 190-194_ (5) Ca´r[)i]-a, 125 Cär-men´ta, 62, 90; _C. 50-52_ Cär-ne´a, _C. 30_ Cär´p[.a]-th[)o]s, 203, 204; _C. 145_ Cär´thage, 350, 351 Cas-san´dra, 276, 313, 314, 451; _C. 190-194_ (5), _226_ Cas-s[)i]-o-pe´a, Cas-s[)i]-e-pe´a, or Cas-s[=i]'o-p[=e], 211; quotation from Milton's Il Penseroso, 211; _C. 149-154_ Cas-ta´l[)i]-a, 26, 87; _C. 30, 70, 76_ Cas´tor, 206, 230, 237, 242-245, 275, 289; _C. 190-194_ (3), (4) C[.a]-tul´lus, 457; translations of his Peleus and Thetis, 253-258, 269-273; note and translations, _C. 299_; of poems LXI and LXII, _38_ (under _Hymen_); of poem LI, _107_ Cau´c[.a]-sus, 11, 97, 192; _C. 76_ Caÿster (ca-is´ter), 97; _C. 76_ Çe-bri´o-n[=e][s+], 298 Çe-cro´p[)i]-a, _C. 65-66_ Çe´crops, 17, 82, 207, 249; _C. 65-66, 176-181_ (Illustr.); genealogy, _148_ (4); _174_ Çe-da´l[)i]-[)o]n, 122 Çe-læ´n[=o], (1) a Pleiad; (2) a Harpy Çe´le-us, 160, 161, 164 Celts, 448 Çen´taurs, the, 104, 259, 274; _C. 80, 156-162_ (Interpret.) Çen-tim´[.a]-nus, _C. 4_ Çe´[)o]s, an island in the Ægean Çeph´[.a]-lus, 40; and Procris, 172-175; father of Phosphor, 175; _C. 123-124, 190-194_ (4) Çepheus (ç[=e]'f[=u]s), 211, 213 Çe-phis´sus, 26, 88, 188, 250; _C. 30, 70, 132-133_ Ç[~e]r´b[~e]r-us, 47, 135, 167, 355; and Hercules, 220; _C. 49, 156-162_ (Interpret.) Ç[~e]r-co´p[=e][s+], 222; _C. 156-162_ Çe´r[=e][s+], 5; or Demeter, 19; attributes of, 43, 44; favorite animals, etc., 44; Eleusinian mysteries, 44, 165; the Roman, 59; and Psyche, 133; wanderings of, 152, 160-165; C. and Neptune, 170; Erysichthon, 191, 192; _C. 40, 59, 114-117_ Ç[)e]r-y-ne´an stag, 218; _C. 156-162_ (Interpret.) Çes-tus, the, 295 Çe´t[=o], 57 Ceylon, 463 Ceyx (se´[)i]x), 175-177; _C. 125._ See _Halcyone_ [-C]ha´[)o]s, 3, 4; _C. 3_ [-C]ha´ris, youngest of the Charites, called also Aglaia (Aglaïa), wife of Vulcan [-C]h[)a]r´[)i]-t[=e][s+]. See _Graces_ [-C]ha´r[)o]n, 47, 135, 354, 355, 377; _C. 44-46_ Charybdis ([-c]h[.a]-rib´dis), 255, 329, 330, 350; _C. 50-52_ [-C]h[)i]-mæ´ra, 214, 215, 354; _C. 155_ [-C]hi´[)o]s (Scio), 122, 149, 452; _C. 96, 107_ [-C]hi´r[)o]n, 104, 231, 269, 271, 274; _C. 10-15, 80, 199_ [-C]ho´rus, 196 Christ, 1, 181 [-C]hro´nus or [-C]hro´n[)o]s, 439; _C. 4_ Chrysaor ([-c]hr[=i]-sa´[)o]r or [-c]hr[)i]s´a-ôr), son of Poseidon; sprang with Pegasus from the head of Medusa; by Callirrhoë he was father of Geryones and Echidna. See Michael Field's _Callirrhoë_, a drama, 1884 Chryseïs ([-c]hri-se´is), 98, 283, 284; _C. 77_ Chryses ([-c]hri´s[=e][s+]), 98, 283, 284 Chrysothemis ([-c]hris-oth´e-mis), daughter of Agamemnon, 275; _C. 190-194_ (2) Cic´e-ro, references to the works of, 104, 196 Ç[)i]-co´ni-ans, the, 318 Çi´lix, son of Agenor; brother of Cadmus and Ph[oe]nix; settled in Cilicia Çim-me´ri-an, 176, 338; _C. 125_ Çim-me´ri-ans, the, 47, 328 Çin´y-r[.a]s, 126 Çir´ç[=e], 201, 318, 324-330; _C. 172, 231-244_ Cir´cus Max´i-mus, 60 Ç[)i]-thæ´r[)o]n, Mount, 75, 155, 261; _C. 62, 110-112_ Cla´r[)o]s, 175 Cle´o-bis, 80, 81; _C. 64_ Cle-om´e-n[=e][s+], a sculptor of about 200 B.C., _C. 35_ Cli´o, the muse of history, 37; _C. 38_ (4) Clo´tho, a Fate, 38 Clymene (clim´[)e]-n[=e]), 94; _C. 76_ Cly-tem-nes´tra, 237, 242, 275, 314, 315; _C. 190-194_ (3), _228-230_ Clytië (cl[)i]sh´[)i]-[=e] or cl[=i]'t[)i]-[=e]), 116, 117; Thomas Moore's verses, Believe me, if all ..., 117; _C. 91_ Clytius (clish´[)i]-us), _C. 8_ Cnageus (na´j[=u]s), _C. 32_ Cnidos (ni´d[)o]s), 32, 126; _C. 35, 100_ Cnosus (n[=o]´sus) or Cnossus (n[)o]s´us). See _Gnossus_ C[)o][-c]'[.a]-lus, 247 Cocytus (co-si´tus), 47, 327, 354 C[oe]us (se´us), a Titan, 64; _C. 4_ Col´[-c]his, 222, 229, 231, 242; _C. 156-162_ (Textual) Co-lo´nus, 263 Col´o-ph[)o]n, 452 Co´mus, in later mythology a god of festivity, drunkenness, and mirth. See _Milton's Masque of Comus_ Con-siv´i-us, 60 Con´sus, 59, 60, 88; _C. 50-52_ Co´ra (Ko´r[=e]). See _Proserpina_ Cor´inth, 32, 124, 169, 196, 214, 235, 252, 261, 453 Cor-nu-co´pi-a, 53, 204; _C. 146-147_ Cor[oe]bus (co-re´bus), 103 Co-ro´nis, 104. See _Æsculapius_ Cor-y-ban´t[=e][s+], references to, 14, 44; _C. 16_ Cor´y-d[)o]n, an ideal singer of pastoral poetry. _See Theocritus, Idyl 4_; _Virgil, Bucolics 7_ Cor´y-thus, _C. 221_ C[)o]s, an island off the coast of Caria Cot´tus, _C. 4_ Cra´n[)o]n or Cran´n[)o]n, a town in the vale of Tempe, in Thessaly Creation, Greek myths of, 3; Virgil's account of, 360; the Norse account of, 373, 374 Cre´[)o]n, 263, 266, 267; _C. 182-189_, table N Cres-phon´t[=e][s+], 241, 242 Cres´s[)i]-da, _C. 196_ Cre´tan Bull, the, 218, 246; _C. 156-162_ (Interpret.) Crete, Cre´ta, 53, 70, 71, 132, 201, 207, 242, 246, 249, 252, 256, 275, 286, 288, 348; _C. 59_ Cretheus (cre´th[=u]s), _C. 148_ (2), (5) Cre´us, _C. 4_ Cre-[=u]´sa, mother of Ion, _C. 174_ Cre-[=u]´sa, wife of Æneas, 347; _C. 190-194_ (5) Cre-[=u]´sa, wife of Jason, 235 Croc´[.a]-l[=e], 120 Cro´nus, 4, 5, 6, 8, 19; rule of, 5, 10; in the Fortunate Isles, 52; confounded with Chronos, 439; _C. 4_ C[=u]'mæ, 352 C[=u]-mæ´an Sibyl, 352-361 C[=u]'pid or C[=u]-pi´d[=o] (Eros), attributes of, 35, 36, 126; Edmund Gosse's Eros, 36; Lyly's Cupid and Campaspe, _C. 38_; in the story of Apollo and Daphne, 112, 113; C. and Psyche, 128-139, 457; extracts from Wm. Morris' Earthly Paradise, 131, 135; from Bridges' Eros and Psyche, 132; from Pater's Marius, 133; T. K. Hervey's Cupid and Psyche, 136, 137; Keats' Ode to Psyche, 137-139; in the story of Hero and Leander, 142-144; Pluto and Proserpine, 159; _C. 38_ (1), _101-102_ C[=u]-re´t[=e][s+], inhabitants of Crete, noisy worshipers of Jupiter; later identified with the Corybantes (worshipers of Cybele) Cy´[.a]-n[=e] river, 160, 162; _C. 114-117_ Cy´[.a]-n[=e], a Sicilian nymph Cybele (sib´e-l[=e]) or Cybebe (si-be´b[=e]), attributes and worship of, 44, 141; the Roman Magna Mater, 59; _C. 16, 41_. See also _Rhea_ Cyclic (sik´lik) Poets, the, 452 Çy-clo´p[=e][s+], Çy´cl[)o]ps, 4, 6, 7, 53, 122, 170, 185, 198-200, 332; and Apollo, 104; and Ulysses, 320-323; and Æneas, 349; _C. 4, 141_ Çy[-c]'nus. (1) Son of Apollo. With his mother, Thyri[.a], he leaped into lake Canope, where both were changed into swans. (2) Son of Poseidon, a king of Colonæ in Troas. He assisted the Trojans, but was killed by Achilles; changed into a swan. (3) Son of Ares, killed by Hercules; changed into a swan. (4) A friend of Phaëthon. While lamenting his friend's fate, Cycnus was changed by Apollo into a swan, and placed among the stars. Çy-dip´p[=e] and her sons, 80, 81; quotation from Edmund Gosse's The Sons of Cydippe, 81; _C. 64_ Çyl-le´n[=e], Mount, 34, 150; _C. 109_ Cynosure (s[=i]'no-sh[=oo]r or s[)i]n´o-sh[=oo]r), the, _C. 58_ Çyn´th[)i]-a (Diana), 31, 118, 125, 139; _C. 32_ Çyn´thus, Mount, in Delos, _C. 32, 78_ Çyp´ri-an, the, 85; _C. 68_ Çyp´ri-an Lays, 452 Çy´pris (Venus), 68, 69, 126, 127, 133, 140; _C. 34, 59_ Çy´prus, island of, 31, 32, 140, 145, 314, 432; _C. 34_ Çyp´se-lus, 241 Çy-re´n[=e], 112, 202, 203; _C. 145_ Çy-the´ra, island of, 31, 32; _C. 100_ Çyth-[~e]r-e´a (Venus), 127, 128, 134; _C. 34, 100_ Çyz´[)i]-cus, King of Cyzicus on the Propontis. Received the Argonauts, but by mistake was slain by Hercules or Jason. Dædalus (d[)e]d´[.a]-lus or d[=e]'d[.a]-lus) and Icarus, 246-248; _C. 85-86, 173_ Da´g[)o]n, 432 Dam[oe]tas (d[.a]-me´t[.a]s), a herdsman in pastoral poetry. See _Virgil, Bucolics 3_ Da´m[)o]n, an ideal singer of love in pastorals. See _Virgil, Bucolics 8_ Dan´a-[.a]ns or Dan´a-[=i], 98, 99 Dan´a-[=e], 64; myth of, 208, 213; woven by Arachne, 84; Lamentation of Danaë, 454; _C. 149-154_ Dan´a-[)i]ds or Da-na´[)i]-d[=e][s+], 207; _C. 149-154_ Dan´a-us, daughters of, 166, 170; house of, 206-228; _C. 57_, table D, _148_ (1) _149-154_ Daphne (daf´n[=e]), myth of, 112-114; explanations of myth, 437; _C. 89_ Daph-ne-pho´r[)i]-a, _C. 30_ Daphnis (daf´nis), 185, 222, 223-225, 240; lines from M. Arnold's Thyrsis, 224, 225; _C. 129-130, 156-162_ Där´d[.a]-nus, 124, 348; _C. 190-194_ (5) Darkness, 3, 4 Daughter of the Skies, story of; analogy of incident, _C. 101-102_ Dau´lis, 249, 250 Dawn, goddess of, _C. 36_. See _Aurora_ Day, 4 Death (Than´a-tos), 54, 298; Hercules' struggle with, 107-110; _C. 49_ De-[)i]d-[.a]-mi´a. (1) Also called Laodam[=i]'a, daughter of Bellerophon, and mother of Sarpedon. (2) Daughter of Lycomedes of Scyros, and mother of Pyrrhus by Achilles. (3) Also called Hippodam[=i]'a, wife of Pirithoüs, and daughter of Atrax Deimos (d[=i]'m[)o]s), Dread, a son and attendant of Mars, 24 De´[)i]-[)o]n, _C. 123-124_; genealogy, _148_ (2), (5) Deïphobus (de-if´o-bus), 280, 302; _C. 190-194_ (5) De-j[.a]-ni´ra or Deianira (de-y[.a]-ni´ra), 203, 225, 227, 237, 275; _C. 146-147, 168_ De´l[)i]-a, a name for Diana of Delos De´l[)o]s, 29, 247, 347; _C. 32_ Del´phi, 5, 113, 169, 262; oracle of, 27, 268, 315, 317, 442; center of the world, 42; _C. 30, 38_ (4), _89_ Del-phin´i-a, _C. 30_ Del-phy´n[=e], _C. 30_ Delusion of Gylfi ([=g]il´f[=e]), 459 De-me´ter, 263, 442; and Pelops, 434; and Springtide, 434; _C. 40_. See _Ceres_ Demigods and Heroes, age of, 16, 17; in the Theban and Trojan Wars, 17 De-mod´o-cus of Phæacia, 337, 450 Destinies. See _Fates_ Deterioration, theory of, 436-440 Deucalion (d[=u]-ca´l[)i]-[)o]n), with Pyrrha repeoples the world, 16; descendants of, 16, 206, 207, 229; interpretation of myth, 440; _C. 19-20, 148_ (2), (5) Devas (d[=a]'v[.a][s+]). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Di´a, island of, 154, 254; old name for Naxos, _C. 110-112_ Di-[=a]'na, usually pronounced Di-[)a]n´a (Artemis), moon-goddess, 2, 432; daughter of Latona, 19, 29; meaning of names, 29; attributes, 29-31; identified with Selene, 29, 39, 117; her vengeance on Agamemnon, Orion, and Niobe, 30, 117, and _ad loc._; favorite animals, 31; Ben Jonson's Hymn to Cynthia (Diana), 31; among the Romans, 59; Lucina, 61; D. and Syrinx, 66; punishes Niobe, 99-103; myths of, 117-125; Tityus, Python, Daphne, Callisto, 117 and _ad loc._; [OE]neus, 117, 237; Alpheüs and Arethusa, 117-120; the fate of Actæon, 120-122; of Orion, 122, 123; the Pleiads, 123, 124; Endymion, 124, 125; Procris, 172; Echo, 188; the Naiads, 189-191; Hippolytus, 260; Agamemnon and Iphigenia, 280, 281, 316; Æneas, 290; Camilla, 364, 372; _C. 32, 58, 95-98_ Di[-c]'t[=e], _C. 5_ Di[-c]-tyn´na: Diana (Artemis) as protectress of fishermen Di[-c]'tys, a fisherman of Seriphus who rescued Danaë and Perseus from the waves, and intrusted them to Polydectes, his brother Di´d[=o], 114, 346, 350-352, 356; _C. 89, 245-254_ Dietrich (de´triG), 409; _C. 282-283_ Di´k[=e], personification of justice Din-dy-me´n[=e], a surname of Cybele; from Mount Dindymus in Phrygia; _C. 41_ Di´-o-m[=e]de, son of Tydeus; contest with Mars, 84-86; in Trojan War, 280, 289, 290, 297, 309, 310, 314; _C. 68_ Di-o-me´d[=e][s+], son of Mars, owner of the man-eating mares, 218 Di-o´n[=e], mother of Venus (Aphrodite), 19, 290; _C. 26, 34_ Dionysia (di-o-nish´[)i]-a), _C. 42, 110-112_ Dionysus (di-o-ni´sus). See _Bacchus_ Di-os-c[=u]'r[=i]. See _Tyndaridæ_ Di´ræ. See _Furies_ Dir´ç[=e], 75 D[)i]s, 83. See _Pluto_ Discord, Dis-cor´d[)i]-a (Eris), 24, 41; apple of, 277, 278 Dith´y-ramb, of Arion, 454 Division of the world among Greek gods, 6 Do-do´na, oracle of, 19, 20; _C. 24-25, 30_ Dol´phin and Apollo, _C. 30_ D[='o]n´n[~e]r, Thôr, 412, 415 Do´ris, 55, 97, 198, 269 Do´rus, Do´r[)i]-an, 16, 119, 120; _C. 93_; genealogy, 103, table G, _148_ (2), (5) Drä´p[.a][s+], the, 458 Dreams, gates of, 54; _C. 49_ Dry´ads, the, 45, 138, 186; myths of, 191-195; _C. 131_ Dry´o-p[=e], 191, 192; _C. 137_ Dwarfs, 401 Dyaus (_cf._ Zeus, Jupiter). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Dy´nast, the (Pluto), 167; _C. 118_ Earth, 3, 4, 5, 8, 97; Greek gods of, 42-46; Greek conception of world, 42, 43; myths of great divinities of, 152-158; of divinities of earth and the underworld, 159-168; of lesser divinities of, 181-197. See also _Gæa_ East of the Sun and West of the Moon, story of; analogy of incident, _C. 101-102_ E-[-c]hid´na, half serpent, half woman, who by Typhon bore Cerberus, the Nemean lion, and the Lernæan Hydra E[-c]h´o (according to rule, [=E]'[-c]ho), 188, 189; _C. 132-133_ Ed´d[.a][s+], 373, 394; derivation of name, history of poems, 458-460; translations and authorities, 458-460, notes, and _C. 268-282_ E-don´[)i]-d[=e][s+], Mount E´don, _C. 42_. See _Bacchus_ Eëtion (e-e´sh[)i]-[)o]n or e-et´[)i]-[)o]n), 291 E-[.g]e´r[)i]-a, 63, 260; _C. 54_ Egypt, 207, 249, 447; _C. 149-154_ Egyptians, 442; records of myths, 462; studies on, _C. 302_ Egyptian divinities, (1) Those of Memphis were Phtha, Ra, Shu and Tefnet, Seb and Nut, Osiris and Isis, Seth and Nephthys, Horus and Hathor. (2) Those of Thebes were Amen (Ammon), Mentu, Atmu, Shu and Tefnet, Seb and Nut, Osiris and Isis, Seth and Nephthys, Horus and Hathor, Sebek, Tennet, and Penit. See _Encyc. Brit._, and authorities referred to in _C. 302_. The following lists are genealogically arranged: (1) Phtha, Seb, Ra; (2) Amen, etc. (1) _Phtha_ or _Ptah_: chief deity of Memphis; perhaps of foreign origin. His name means the "opener," or the "carver." He is called "the Father of the Beginning," and as the prime architect, or artificer, recalls the Greek Hephæstus. He is the activity of the "Spirit," Neph, Chnuphis. He is represented as a mummy or a pygmy. _Pakht_ and _Bast_: a goddess of two forms, lioness-headed or cat-headed. At Memphis, Pakht was worshiped as wife of Phtha; at Bubastis, Bast was adored as daughter of Isis. _Nefer Atum_: worshiped at Heliopolis as the son of Phtha. Like Osiris (see below), he is the sun of the underworld. _Seb_: the father of the Osirian gods. He is the god of earth and its vegetation; represented as a man with the head of a goose; he corresponds with the Greek Cronus; his consort was Nut. _Nut_: wife of Seb, mother of the Osirian gods; the vault of heaven; she may be likened to the Greek Rhea. _Osi´ris_, or _Hesiri_: the good principle. Identified with the vivifying power of the sun and of the waters of the Nile. In general, the most human and most beneficent of the Egyptian deities. He is the son of Seb (or, according to some, of Neph, Chnuphis). He may be likened to the Greek Apollo, as a representative of spiritual light; to Dionysus in his vivifying function. He wages war with his brother Seth (Set), the principle of Evil, but is vanquished by him, boxed in a chest, drowned, and finally cut into small pieces. His sister-wife, Isis, recovers all but one piece of the body of O., and buries them. He becomes protector of the shades, judge of the underworld, the sun of the night, the tutelary deity of the Egyptians. He is avenged by his son Horus, who, with the aid of Thoth (reason), temporarily overcomes Seth. The myth may refer to the daily struggle of the sun with darkness, and also to the unending strife of good with evil, the course of human life, and of the life after death. O. is represented as a mummy crowned with the Egyptian miter. _I´sis_, or _Hes_: the wife and feminine counterpart of Osiris. Represented as a woman crowned with the sun's disk or cow's horns, bearing also upon her head her emblem, the throne. _Ho´rus_, or _Har_: son of Osiris and Isis, who, as the strong young sun of the day, avenges his father, the sun of the underworld. He is Horus the child, Horus the elder (as taking the place of his father on earth), or sometimes Horus Harpocrates, the god of silence. As the latter, he holds a finger to his lips. He may be compared with the Greek Apollo. _Harpoc´ra-tes_: see _Horus_ _Ha´thor_, or _Athor_: a goddess often identified with Isis. She had the head of a cow and wears the sun's disk, and plumes. Her name means "Home of Horus." She has characteristics of the Greek Aphrodite. _Seth_, or _Set_: the principle of physical, and later of moral, darkness and evil. He is the opponent of his brother, or father, Osiris. Represented as a monster with ass's body, jackal's ears and snout, and the tail of a lion. _Nephthys_: a goddess of the dead; the sister of Isis, and wife of Seth. She aided Isis to recover the drowned Osiris. _A´pis_: the sacred bull, into which the life of Osiris was supposed to have passed. The name also indicates the Nile. The bull Apis must have certain distinguishing marks; he was treated like a god; and on his death (he was drowned at twenty-five years of age) the land went into mourning until his successor was found. He was worshiped with pomp in Memphis. See _Serapis_ _Sera´pis_ (or _Ser´apis_; see _Milton, Paradise Lost, 1, 720_): as Apis represents the living Osiris, so S. the Osiris who had passed into the underworld. _Ra_: originally the deity of the physical attributes of the sun; but ultimately the representative of supreme godhead. Worshiped through all Egypt, and associated with other gods who are then manifestations of his various attributes. He is the victorious principle or light, life, and right, but rules over, rather than sympathizes with, mankind. He is of human form, sometimes hawk-headed, always crowned with the sun's disk. His Greek counterpart is not Apollo, but Helios. _Mentu_: Ra, as the rising sun _Atmu_: Ra, as the setting sun _Shu_: the solar light; son of Ra, Mentu, or Atmu (2) _Ammon_, or _Amen_: "the hidden," a deity of the Egyptian Thebes; generally associated in attributes with some other god. As Amen-Ra he is the king of Theban gods, the divinity of the sun. He is of human form; rarely with a goat's head, as represented by the Greeks. He corresponds to the Greek Zeus. As Amen-Khem he is the god of productivity, and is represented with a flail in his hand. His consort is Mut, or Maut, and their son is Khuns. _Mut_, or _Maut_: the mother; the Theban goddess of womanhood, wife of Amen-Ra. She corresponds to the Greek Demeter. _Khuns_: son of Ammon and Maut; a divinity of the moon. He is sometimes hawk-headed; generally invested with the disk and crescent of the moon. _Neph_, _Chnuphis_, _Khnum_, _Num_, or _Nu_: the soul of the universe; the word or will of Ammon-Ra; the creator. Represented with the head of a ram. _Khem, Chem_ (_cf._ Milton's _Cham_), called also _Min_: the energizing principle of physical life. Associated with both Ammon and Osiris. His counterpart in classical mythology is Pan, or, as god of gardens, Priapus. _Neith_: goddess of the upper heaven; self-produced; mother of the sun; goddess, consequently, of wisdom, the arts of peace and of war. Likened by the Greeks to Athena. Worshiped in Lower Egypt as a woman in form, with bow and arrows in her hand. _Ma-t_: goddess of truth; her emblem is the ostrich feather, which signifies truth. She is the wife of Thoth. _Thoth_: the chief moon-god; characterized by his wisdom, and his patronage of letters. Husband of Ma-t _Anubis_: son of Osiris. Guide of ghosts Eileithyia ([=i]-l[=i]-th[=i]'ya) or Ilithyia ([)i]l-[)i]-th[=i]'ya), the name of a goddess, or of goddesses, of childbirth; later identified with Diana; _C. 32_ E-lec´tra, daughter of Agamemnon, 275, 276, 315; _C. 190-194_ (2), _228-230_ E-lec´tra, a Pleiad, 123, 124; _C. 97, 148_ (5), _190-194_ (5) E-lec´try-[)o]n, 214, 215 Elegiac ([)e]-le´j[)i]-ak or el-e-ji´ak) poets of Rome, 457 Eleusinia (el-[=u]-sin´[)i]-a), Eleusinian mysteries; Eleusis (e-l[=u]´sis), 44, 165, 442; _C. 114-117_ Eleusis. See _Eleusinia_ Eleutho (e-l[=u]'th[=o]). See _Eileithyia_ Elfheim (elf´h[=a]m or elf´h[=i]m), 377, 394 Elgin Marbles, _C. 27, 176-181_ E´l[)i]s, 117, 170, and _passim_; _C. 93_ Eliudnir ([)e]l-[)i]-[)oo]d´n[=e]r), 377 Elli ([)e]l´l[=e]), 384, 386 Elves, 394; _C. 268-281_ Elysium (e-lizh´[)i]-[)u]m or e-liz´[)i]-[)u]m), Elysian (e-lizh´[.a]n or e-liz´[)i]-[.a]n) Plain, 43, 274, 356, 360; description of Elysian Fields, 51, 52, 358, 359; Andrew Lang's Fortunate Islands, 52; _C. 44-46_ E-ma´th[)i]-a: Thessaly, or Pharsalia Em´bla, 374 En-çel´[.a]-dus, a Giant, 7 En-[+c]he´l[)i]-ans, country of the, 89; _C. 70_ Endymion (en-dim´[)i]-[)o]n), 2, 117, 237; myth of, 124, 125, 201; _C. 98_; genealogy, _148_ (3), (5), _168_ Enipeus (e-ni´p[=u]s), 170; _C. 119-120_ En´na, 120, 160, 163; _C. 93, 114-117_ En-y-a´l[)i]-us: the horrible, the warlike; an epithet of Mars Enyo (e-ni´o), mother, daughter, sister, or wife of Mars; the horror, 24; also one of the three Grææ E´[)o]s, 39. See also _Aurora_ Ep´[.a]-phus, 94, 207; _C. 76_ E-pe´us, the artificer of the Wooden Horse Eph´esus, Diana of, _C. 32_; Venus of, _C. 34_ Eph-[)i]-al´t[=e][s+], 93; _C. 8_ Ep´ics. See _Homer_, _Virgil_, _V[.o]lsunga Saga_, _Nibelungenlied_, _Mahâbhârata_, _Râmâyana_ Ep-[)i]-dau´rus, 251 Ep-ig´o-n[=i], 268 Ep-[)i]-men´[)i]-d[=e][s+], a Cretan herdsman, who awoke from a sleep of fifty-seven years to find himself endowed with gifts of prophecy, purification, and priestcraft Epimetheus (ep-[)i]-me´th[=u]s), 9; marries Pandora, 11; _C. 10-15_ E-pi´rus, 349 [)E]r´[.a]-t[=o], the muse of love poetry, 37 [)E]r´da, in Wagner's Ring, 415, 418, 419, 424, 425 [)E]r´e-bus, 4, 135, 162, 259, 363; _C. 3, 49, 101-102_ Erechtheus (e-rek´th[=u]s), 249; _C. 174_ [)E]r-i[-c]h-tho´n[)i]-us, 207; descendants of, 249-260; _C. 148_ (4), _174_ [)E]r-i[-c]h-tho´n[)i]-us, son of Dardanus and fourth king of Troy, _C. 190-194_ (5) E-r[)i]d´[.a]-nus, 98; _C. 76_ Erinys (e-rin´is or e-ri´nis), E-rin´y-[=e][s+]. See _Furies_ [)E]r-[)i]-phy´l[=e], 265, 266, 268; _C. 70_ E´ris, 24, 41. See _Discord_ E´r[)o]s, 3, 4; _C. 3, 38_ (1). See _Cupid_ [)E]r-y-çi´na, Venus, to whom Mount Eryx and the city of that name, with its temple of Venus, were sacred, 255; _C. 34_ [)E]r-y-man´thus, Mount, 119; boar of, 217; _C. 93, 156-162_ [)E]r-y-si[-c]h´th[)o]n, myth of, 191, 192 [)E]r-y-the´a, island of, 219 [)E]r-y-the´is, one of the Hesperides E´ryx, Mount, 32, 159; _C. 114-117_ Eskimos, 449 E-te´o-cl[=e][s+], 264, 266; _C. 182-189_, table N Etruscans, 63, 367 Etzel (et´sel), Lament over the Heroes of, 461. See _Attila_ Eub[oe]a ([=u]-be´a), 56 Eu-he´m[~e]r-us or Eu-hem´[~e]r-us (Eue-merus), Eu-he-m[~e]r-is´tic or Eu-hem-[~e]r-is´tic, 436 Eu-mæ´us, 339, 340, 343 Eu-men´[)i]-d[=e][s+], 256; _C. 49_. See _Furies_ Eu-mol´pus, Eu-mol´p[)i]-dæ, a Thracian singer and his descendants, priests of Demeter in the Eleusinian mysteries Eu-phra´t[=e][s+], 97 Eu-phros´y-n[=e], one of the Graces, 36 Eu-rip´[)i]-d[=e][s+], 455; references to, 110, 215, 242, 261, 265, 266, 281, 313, 315, 316; translations, _C. 298_ Eu-ro´pa, 64, 207, 246; myth of, 68-71; portrayed by Arachne, 84; _C. 57_, table D; _59_ and table E Eu-ro´t[)a]s, 253 Eu´rus, 38 Eu-ry´[.a]-l[=e], one of the Gorgons Eu-ry´[.a]-lus, 368-370 Eu-ryb´[)i]-[=e], a Titan, wife of Creüs, _C. 4_ Eu-ry-cle´a, 341 Eu-ryd´[)i]-ç[=e], 165-168, 202, 203; _C. 118_ Eu-ryl´o-[-c]hus, 324, 325 Eu-ryn´o-m[=e], 36, 90; _C. 4, 71_ Eu-ry-ph[.a]-es´sa, _C. 4_ Eurystheus ([=u]-ris´th[=u]s), 216-220 Eurytion ([=u]-rish´[)i]-[)o]n or [=u]-rit´[)i]-[)o]n), 219, 259 Eu-t[~e]r´p[=e], the muse of lyric poetry, 37; _C. 38_ (4) Euxine ([=u]k´s[)i]n) Sea, 231 E-vad´n[=e], 266 E-van´der, 365-367 Eve and the apple, 440 E-ve´nus, 115 E´v[)i]-us, _C. 42_. See _Bacchus_ Fable, definition of, 1; distinguished from myth, 1-2; some writers of, 2 Fafner (fäv´n[~e]r), Fafnir, 412, 415, 419, 420, 422, 423, 427 Fafnir (fäv´n[=e]r), Fafner, 400, 401. In Wagner's Ring, see _Fafner_ Fair, Brown, and Trembling, story of; analogy of incident, _C. 101-102_ Famine, personified, 192 Farbauti (fär´bou-te), 377 Fä´[s+][=ó]lt, 412, 415 Fas´t[=i], Ovid's, 456 Fate (Greek _A-nan´ke_, Latin _Fa´tum_), the necessity above and behind gods as well as men Fates, the (Greek _M[oe]'ræ_, Latin _Par´cæ_), subject to Jupiter; their office, 38, 106, 107, 163, 167, 237, 240, 269; daughters of Themis, or of Night, 38; song of, 272; _C. 38_ (6), _49_ Fau´na, 61 Fau´n[=i], Fauns, 61, 153, 185, 186, 190, 195; _C. 54, 131_ Fau´nus, 61, 198, 362 F[.a]-vo´n[)i]-us, 38 Fen´ris, 377, 378, 387, 395, 396 Fensalir (fen-sä-l[=e]r´), 387, 389 Fe-ro´n[)i]-a, 63; also worshiped in the mart as a goddess of commerce; a Sabine deity Fi´d[=e][s+], 63 Flood, the, in Greece, 15 Flo´ra, 61; loved by Zephyrus, 39; _C. 54_ Fon-t[)i]-na´l[)i]-a, 62 Fon´tus, 62 For-t[=u]'na, 63 Fox and Grapes, reference to, 1 Freia (fr[=e]'a), Freya, 412-415. See _Freya_ Freki (fr[=a]'k[=e]), 375 Freya (fr[=a]'a), Freia, 377-380, 393 See _Freia_ Freyr (fr[=a]''r) or Froh (fr[=o]), 377, 386, 387, 393-395, 412; _C. 268-281_ Frick´a or Frig´ga, 412, 415, 418, 420 Frig´ga or Frick´a, 374, 387, 389, 393; _C. 268-281_ Froh (fr[=o]) or Freyr (fr[=a]''r), 412, 413, 415 Frost giant (Ymir), 373 Frost giants, 376, 378, 380, 393, 395 Furies, F[=u]'r[)i]-æ (E-rin´y-[=e][s+], Di´ræ, Eu-men´[)i]-d[=e][s+], Sem´næ: A-lec´to, T[)i]-siph´-o-n[=e], Me-[.g]æ´ra), 5, 51, 354, 357; attendants of Proserpine, 53, 54; mollified by Orpheus, 166; avengers of Ibycus, 196, 197; Orestes pursued by, 316; _C. 49, 140_ Gæa (je´a), [.G][=e], or T[)e]r´ra, 4, 5, 6, 44, 220; the Roman Tellus, 59. See _Earth_ Gal-[.a]-te´a, the Nereid, 55, 185; myth of Acis, Polyphemus, and G., 198-200; _C. 141_ Gal-[.a]-te´a and Pyg-m[=a]'l[)i]-[)o]n, 147; _C. 105_ Gandharvas (gund-hur´w[.a][s+]). See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Gan´[.g][=e][s+], 97 Gan-y-me´da, a name of Hebe Gan´y-m[=e]de, 36; _C. 38_ (2) Gardens of the Hesperides, _C. 149-154_ Gáthás (gä´tä[s+]), 463 Gautama (gou´t[.a]-m[.a]). See _Buddha_ [.G]e. See _Gæa_ and _Earth_ [.G]el´l[)i]-us, reference to, 60 [.G]em´[)i]-n[=i]. See _Tyndaridæ_ [.G]e´nius, the Roman tutelary spirit, 62, 181 [=G][)e]r´da, 387 Geri ([=g][=a]'r[=e]), 374 German heroes, myths, and lays, 2, 405-409; _C. 283-288, 301_ German mythology, narrative of, 405-409; records of, 448, 460, 461; translations and authorities, _C. 283-288_ [=G][)e]r´n[=ó]t, 407 Geryon (je´r[)i]-[)o]n), son of Chrysaor and Callirrhoë, 219 Giallar ([=g][)i]äl´lär), 395 Giants, Greek ([.G][=i]-gan´t[=e][s+]), 2, 5; war of, 7, 8, 159; interpretation of, 440; _C. 8_ Giants, Norse, 373, 376, 412 Gibichungs ([=g][=e]'biG-[)oo]ng[s+]), 426-429 Ginnungagap ([=g]in´n[=oo]n-gä-gäp´), 373 Giselher ([=g][=e]'zel-h[)e]r), 407 Giuki ([=g][)i][=u]'k[=e]), 403 Gladsheim (gläts´h[=a]m or gläts´h[=i]m), 374 Glau´ç[=e] (or Cre-[=u]´sa), 235; _C. 163-167_ (Interpret.) Glau´cus, formerly a fisherman of B[oe]otia, afterward a sea-god, 58, 204; _C. 142_. Sometimes confused in mythology with the following: Glau´cus of Corinth, son of Sisyphus and father of Bellerophon, 200, 201, 214 Glau´cus, grandson of Bellerophon, in the Trojan War, 280, 290 Gleipnir (gl[=a]p´n[=e]r), 378 Glis´ten-heath, 401 Glyptothek (glip-to-t[=a]k´) at Munich, of King Louis I of Bavaria; one of the finest collections of ancient statuary in the world Gnossus (nos´us), Cnosus, Cnossus, the ancient capital of Crete; home of Minos, 256 Gods, the Egyptian. See _Egyptian divinities_ Gods, the great, of Greece, origin of, 4, 8; home of, 18; enumerated, 19; number of, discussed by Gladstone, _C. 23_; attributes of gods of Olympus, 19-41; lesser divinities of Olympus, 35-41; Greek gods of the earth, 42-46; Greek gods of the underworld, 47-54; Greek gods of the waters, 55-58; gods common to Greece and Italy, 59; distinctively Roman, 59-63; derived from the Etruscans, 63; myths of the great Greek divinities of heaven, 64-151; of earth, 152-158; of earth and underworld, 159-168; of waters, 169-171; of lesser divinities of heaven, 172-180; of lesser divinities of earth and underworld, 181-197; of lesser divinities of waters, 198-205; _C. 22, 23_ Gods, the Hindu. See _Hindu divinities_ Gods, the Norse, 373-397 Golden Age, the, 10, 11, 59, 366; _C. 10-15_ Golden Ass, the, 457 Golden Fleece, quest of, 206, 229-233, 455; _C. 163-167_ Gol´[.g][=i], a city of Cyprus, beloved by Venus, 253 Gor´d[)i]-an Knot (Gor´d[)i]-us), _C. 113_ Gor´gons (Sthe´no, Eu-ry´[.a]-l[=e], Me-d[=u]´sa), described, 57; _C. 149-154_. See _Medusa_ Goth´land, Goths, 398, 399 Graces, Gratiæ (gra´sh[)i]-[=e]), [-C]h[)a]r´[)i]-t[=e][s+], 30, 31, 40, 69, 181; attributes of, and names, 36; lines by Spenser on the Graces, 36, 37; _C. 38_ (3) Græ´æ, Gray-women (Di´no, Pe-phre´do, E-ny´o), described, 57; and Perseus, 209; _C. 149-154_ Gräm, 401, 404, 405 Grä´n[~e], 426 Greek, Greeks, 2, 442, 447, 448; myths of creation, 3; view of nature, 181, 435, 443. See also _Gods_, _Heroes_, _Myths_ Grey´fell, 401, 403, 405 Grimhild (gr[)i]m´h[)i]lt), 403 Grim-hil´d[~e], 427 Gudrun (g[=oo]d´r[=oo]n or g[=oo]-dr[=oo]n´), 403-405. See _Gutrune_ Gullinbursti (g[=oo]l-in-b[=oo]r´st[=e]), 393 Gulltop (g[=oo]l´top), 393 Gunnar (g[=oo]n´när), 403-405. See _Gunther_ Gunther (g[)oo]n´t[~e]r), 405-409; in Wagner's Ring, 426-429; _C. 282-283_ Gutrune (g[)oo]-tr[=oo]'n[~e]), in Wagner's Ring, 426-429 Guttorm (g[=oo]t´tôrm), 403, 404 [.G]y´[=e][s+] or [.G]y´[.g][=e][s+], Çen-tim´[.a]-nus, _C. 4_ [.G]y´[.g][=e][s+], first King of Lydia; famous for his riches Gyoll ([=g][)i][[='o]]l), 391 Ha´d[=e][s+], _C. 44-46, 47, 49_. See _Pluto_ Ha´d[=e][s+], realm of, 35, 47; _C. 44-46_. See _Underworld_ Hæ´m[)o]n, 267; _C. 182-189_, table N Hæ-mo´n[)i]-a, 177 Hæ´mus, Mount, 96; _C. 76_ Hä´[=g]en, 405, 408, 409; in Wagner's Ring, 419, 426-430 Hal-çy´o-n[=e], 172; and Ceyx, myth of, 175-177; _C. 125_ Ham-[.a]-dry´ads, 186; myths of, 191-195 Happy Isles, the, 345 Har-mo´n[)i]-a, 24, 71, 153; and Cadmus, 89, 90; necklace of, 89, 265, 268; _C. 70_ Har´pies, Harpyiæ (har´p[)i]-y[=e] or har-p[=i]'y[=e]), described, 56, 57, 348, 362; _C. 50-52_ and table C Har-poc´r[.a]-t[=e][s+]. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Hä´th[)o]r, Ä´th[)o]r. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Heaven, abode of Greek Gods, 4, 5, 6, 18; attributes of Greek gods of, 19-41; myths of greater Greek gods of, 64-151; of lesser Greek gods of, 172-180. See _Olympus_ Heaven, personified, 3. See _Uranus_ He´b[=e], 18, 86, 234; daughter of Juno, 19, 22; attributes of, wife of Hercules, 36, 227; _C. 38_ (2) He´brus, 168; _C. 118_ Hec´[.a]-b[=e]. See _Hecuba_ Hec´[.a]-t[=e], described, 54, 232, 233, 234, 354; _C. 49_ Hec-[.a]-ton-[-c]hi´r[=e][s+], 4, 6; _C. 4_ Hec´tor, 275, 276, 280-306, 313; _C. 190-194_ (5), _207_ Hec´[=u]-ba, 280, 291, 292, 301-305, 312, 313; _C. 190-194_ (5), _216_ Heidrun (h[=a]d´r[=oo]n or h[=a]-dr[=oo]n´), 376 Heimdall (h[=a]m´däl or h[=i]m´däl), 377, 389, 393, 395 H[)e]l, 389, 391, 395 H[)e]l´a, 377, 387, 389-392, 395, 397 Helen, Hel´[='e]-na, 237, 242, 243, 259, 275-279, 287-289, 291, 301, 313, 314; _C. 190-194_ (3), _195_ Hel´[)e]-nus, 313, 349, 350, 451; _C. 190-194_ (5) Helgi (hel´[=g][=e]) the Hunding's Bane, 460 He-li´[.a]-d[=e][s+], 98; _C. 76_ Hel´[)i]-c[)o]n, Mount, 96, 453; _C. 76_ He´l[)i]-[)o]s, confounded with Apollo, 27, 39; family of, 39; the sun, 43; contest with Neptune, 169; cattle of, 330; _C. 4, 38_ (10), _75_ Hel´l[=e], 229; _C. 163-167_ Hel´len, ancestor of the Hellenes, 16; sons of, 214, 229; _C. 148_ (5), table I Hel´l[)e]s-pont, 142, 229, 272; _C. 104_ Hem´[~e]r-a, Day, sister of Æther and daughter of Erebus and Night, 4 Hephæstus (he-f[)e]s´tus), _C. 29_. See _Vulcan_ H[)e]r´[.a]-cl[=e][s+]. See _Hercules_ H[~e]r´c[~u]-l[=e][s+], H[)e]r´[.a]-cl[=e][s+], 7, 17, 20, 206, 230, 237; frees Prometheus, 12; passage from G. C. Lodge's Herakles, 12; son of Alemene, 64, 107; saves Alcestis from death, 107-110; passages from Browning's Balaustion's Adventure, 107-110; visits Tartarus, 168, 259; rescues Hesione, 170; contest with Acheloüs, 203, 204; myth of, 215-228; choice of, 216; youth and labors, 216-221; later exploits, 221-225; loss of Hylas, 222, 223; rescue of Daphnis, 223-225; expedition against Laomedon, 225; death, 225-228, 455; the Cretan bull, 246; constellation of, 258; arrows of, 309; interpretations of, 432, 437, 440; _C. 10-15, 156-162_ H[~e]r´m[=e][s+], _C. 36, 109_. See _Mercury_ H[~e]r-mi´o-n[=e], daughter of Menelaüs and Helen, 276, 314, 349; corruption of Harmonia, _C. 70_ (Illustr.) H[)e]r´mod, 389-397 _passim_ He´ro and Le-an´der, story of, 141-145; extracts from Marlowe's Hero and Leander, 142-144; Keats' sonnet, On a Picture of Leander, 145; _C. 104_ He-rod´o-tus, 455; reference to, 268, 452 Heroes, the older Greek, 16, 17; myths of, 206-264; the younger Greek, myths of, 265 _et seq._; the Norse and the old German, 398-409 H[~e]r´s[=e], sister of Aglauros and Pandrosos, personifications of the dew, daughters of Cecrops, _C. 123-124, 174_ He´s[)i]-[)o]d (He-si´o-dus), cited, 4, 10, 16, 26, 31, 38, 51, 246, and footnotes _passim_; account of, and of his Works and Days, and Theogony, 453; translation by Thomas Cooke in Vol. II of English Translations from Ancient and Modern Poems, 3 vols., London, 1810; see also _C. 5, 298_ He-si´o-n[=e], 169, 170, 225, 276, 280; _C. 190-194_ (5) Hes´p[~e]r, Hes´p[~e]r-us, 31, 40, 41, 160, 272; _C. 38_ (11) Hes-pe´r[)i]-a, 348 Hes-p[)e]r´[)i]-d[=e]s, Hes´p[~e]r-ids, the sisters, the garden of, 40, 41, 57, 211, 219, 220; quotation from Milton's Comus, 40; from Tennyson's Hesperides, 40, 41; _C. 49_ and table B, _149-154, 156-162_ Hes´p[~e]r-is, 57 Hes´p[~e]r-us. See _Hesper_ Hes´t[)i]-a. See _Vesta_ Hieroglyphs, the, 462 Hil-[.a]-i´ra. (1) Daughter of Apollo. (2) Sister of Ph[oe]be, daughter of Leucippus; carried off with her sister by Castor and Pollux. (3) The _cheerful_, the moon Hil´de-brand, 409 Him´[~e]r-[)o]s, personification of the longing of love, companion of Eros, 36 H[)i]nd´fell, 401, 403 Hindu divinities: arranged logically as (1) Vedic, (2) Brahmanic. For Buddhism see _Buddha_ (1) Vedic: the Aryan, and earliest form of Hindu religion; dealing primarily with elemental powers that, in time, acquired spiritual signification _Vedas_: the Sanskrit scriptures; from root, to know, to be wise; see p. 462. _Devas_: the shining ones, the gods (Gk. _theos_, Lat. _deus_) _Dyaus_: the shining sky, the elemental overruling spirit of the primitive Aryans (Gk. _Zeus_, Lat. _Jovis_) _Prithivi_: goddess Earth, spouse of Dyaus _Indra_: son of Dyaus and Prithivi; the atmospheric region; chief of the gods, and strongest; wielder of the thunderbolt, lord of the plains, bull of the heavens, conqueror of the malignant, thirsty Vritra, gatherer of clouds, dispenser of rain; adored in heaven and on earth _Varuna_: god of the vault of heaven (root _var_, to cover; Gk. _Ouranos_, Lat. _Uranus_); the all-seeing, the pardoner, merciful even to the guilty _Ushas_: the dawn, mother of mornings, brilliant of raiment, golden-colored, spreading far and wide, everywhere awakening men, preparing the pathway of the sun, and leading his white steed (Gk. _Eos_) _Surya_: the god who dwells in the sun (Gk. _Helios_) _Savitar_: the golden-handed sun in his daily course; the shining wanderer, comforter of men _Soma_: a deification of the spirituous "extract" of the moon-plant; giver of strength to gods and men, and of radiant light and joyous immortality _Vayu_: god of the wind _Maruts_: deities of the storm _Agni_: the youngest and one of the most important of the Vedic gods; lord of fire, born of two pieces of wood rubbed together; youngest of the deities, giver of prosperity to men, their guardian and companion, passing between heaven and earth "like a messenger between two hamlets" (Lat. _ignis_; _cf._ Gk. _Hephæstus_) _Vach_: goddess of speech, teacher of spiritual worship, promoter of wisdom and holiness _Vritra_: the monstrous snake, drinker of rain-clouds, dark, evil, and malicious, overcome by Indra (_cf._ Apollo and the Python) _Rakshasas_: powers of darkness, combated by Indra _Yama_, and his sister _Yami_: the first man and woman; leaving this life they prepared for those that should follow them blissful abodes in the other world, of which they are king and queen (2) Brahmanic: a philosophical outgrowth of the Vedic religion, which, on the one hand, was refined into logical subtleties, intelligible only to the learned; on the other hand, crystallized into symbols, rites, and unending conventionalities _Trimurti_: the Brahmanic Trinity, consisting of the following three persons: _Brahma_: in the Rig-Veda, a word for devotion, prayer; later, for the supreme principle of the universe, its source, its essence, and its sustenance. Brahma is the _creative energy_ of the godhead, calm, passionless, remote from man and the world. He is four-headed and four-handed. _Vishnu_: originally a benevolent Vedic deity, with certain attributes of the sun; adopted by a sect as its special god, and then annexed by the Brahmans as a manifestation of the supreme being in his work of _preservation_. He has nine times assumed human form, each incarnation having for its purpose the redemption of mankind from oppression or error. These incarnations are his _Avatars_. His ninth _Avatar_, say some, was as Buddha; in his tenth he will end this world, and reproduce Brahma, who will create things anew. _Siva_: originally a bloodthirsty deity, not of the Vedic, but of some aboriginal Hindu religion; absorbed in the Brahmanic godhead as the manifestation of _destructive power_. He is adorned with a necklace of skulls and earrings of serpents. _Sarasvati_: goddess of speech (see _Vach_); spouse of Brahma _Sri_, or _Lakshmi_: goddess of beauty; spouse of Vishnu _Uma_, or _Parvati_ (Kali, Durga): the inaccessible, the terrible; spouse of Siva _Gandharvas_: genii of music (_cf._ Centaurs); retainers of Indra _Lokapalas_: generic name for the Vedic deities when degraded by Brahmanism to the position of tutelary spirits Hiordis (h[=é]-ôr´dis), 400 Hip-po-cre´n[=e] (anglicized in poetry as Hip´po-cr[=e]ne, three syllables), _C. 155_ Hip-po-d[.a]-mi´a, daughter of Atrax, 259 Hip-po-d[.a]-mi´a, daughter of [OE]nomaüs, 170, 171, 275; _C. 121_ Hip-pol´y-ta and Hercules, 219; _C. 176-181_ (Textual) Hip-pol´y-tus, 150, 259, 260; _C. 174_, table M; _176-181_ (Illustr.) Hip-p[)o]m´e-d[)o]n, 265 Hip-pom´e-n[=e][s+] (or Mi-lan´[)i]-[)o]n), 139-141, 230; _C. 103_ Hip-pot´[.a]-d[=e][s+], primarily Æolus II, son of Hippotes, but in poetry generally Æolus III, king of the winds, _C. 38_ (9), _125_ Historians of mythology, in Greece, 455; in Norway, 458-460. See _Myth, Preservation of_ Höder (h[~e]'d[~e]r), 376, 387-389, 397; _C. 268-281_ H[oe]nir (h[~e]'n[=e]r), 400 Hogni (h[=ó]g´n[=e]), 403-405; _C. 282-283_. See _Hagen_ Ho´mer (Ho-me´rus), cited, 3, 4, 18, 21, 23, 25, 31, 35, 47, 51, 75, 84-87, 91, 99, 104, 110, 115, 123, 150, 169, 180, 202, 214, 215, 246, and footnotes _passim_; story of Iliad and Odyssey, 283-345; relation to myth, 433; account of, 451, 452; _C. 5, 23, 195, 298_ Ho-m[)e]r´ic Hymns, 150, 177, 452 Ho-m[)e]r´[)i]-dæ, "sons of Homer," lived in Chios, and claimed to be descended from Homer. They were hereditary epic poets; _C. 298_ Horace (Ho-ra´tius), 2, 457; references to his poems, 77, 177, 207, 214; note on, and translations, _C. 299_ Ho´ræ. See _Hours_ Ho´rus, son of Osiris. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Hours, or Seasons, the, 18, 22, 28, 31, 38, 40, 94, 95, 178, 179, 181; _C. 38_ (5) Hrim-thursar (r[=e]m´th[~e]r-sär), 376 Hringham (r[=e]ng´h[.a]m), 392 Hugi (h[=oo]'[=g][=e]), 383, 385 Hugin (h[=oo]'[=g][=é]n), 374 Hunding (h[)oo]n´ding), 400, 401; in Wagner's Ring, 416-420 Hun´land, Huns, 398, 404, 409; _C. 282-283_ Huns, the, 398 Hy-[.a]-çin´th[)i]-a, _C. 30, 75_ Hy-[.a]-çin´thus, 93, 94, 103; _C. 75_ Hy´[.a]-d[=e][s+], the, daughters of Atlas, 57, 152, 344; _C. 110-112_ Hy´[.a]-l[=e], 121 Hy´dra, 51, 354, 357; the Lernæan, 217; _C. 156-162_ (Interpret.) Hy-[.g]e´a, Hy-[.g]i´a, daughter of Æsculapius; the goddess of health Hyginus (h[)i]-ji´nus), references to, 75, 123, 160, 170, 208, 215, 241, 243, 246, 249, 265, 269; _C. 299_ Hy´l[.a]s, the loss of, 222, 223; _C. 156-162_ (Illustr.) Hy´men (Hy-m[)e]-næ´us), 36, 165; _C. 38_ (1) Hy-p[~e]r-bo´re-ans (Hy-p[~e]r-bo´re-i), 26, 42, 92; Thomas Moore's Song of a Hyperborean, 43; _C. 39, 74_ Hy-pe´r[)i]-[)o]n or Hy-p[~e]r-[=i]'[)o]n, 4; _C. 4_ Hy-p[~e]r-mnes´tra, 207; _C. 149-154_ Hypnos (hip´n[)o]s). See _Sleep_ I-ac´[-c]hus, _C. 114-117_. See _Bacchus_ I-ap´e-tus, 4, 5, 6, 8; _C. 4_; descendants of, _148_ (5), table I Iasius (i-a´sh[)i]-us), 237 Ib´y-cus, 196, 197, 453; _C. 140_ I-ca´r[)i]-us, 279, 338; _C. 190-194_ (3) Ic´[.a]-rus, 222, 246, 247; _C. 173_ Iç´e-lus, a producer of dreams, son of Somnus, _C. 125_ I´da, Mount, 96, 110, 278; _C. 76_ I´da, the nymph, 5 I´da, the plain, 397 I-dæ´us, 305 I-da´l[)i]-um, a mountain and city of Cyprus, dear to Venus, 253 I´d[)a]s, 115, 116, 243 Idomeneus (i-dom´e-n[=u]s), 286, 288 Iduna (e-d[=oo]n´a), 376 Il´[~i]-[.a]d, narrative of, 283-306; a kind of myth, 433, 448; history of, 452, 453, 463; illustrative of, _C. 195_; translations, _298_; cited, see footnotes _passim_, and _Cowper_, _Derby_, _Gladstone_, _Lang_, _Pope_, in Index of Authors Il´[)i]-[.a]d, the Little, 453 Il´[)i]-[)o]n, Il´[)i]-um, 179. See _Troy_ Ilioneus ([)i]-li´o-n[=u]s), 100 Ilithyia (il-[)i]-thi´ya). See _Eileithyia_ Il-[)i]-[=u]-p[~e]r´sis, the, 453 I´lus, son of Dardanus, died without issue I´lus, son of Tros, _C. 190-194_ (5) In´[.a]-[-c]hus, son of Oceanus, ancestor of the Argive and Pelasgic races, 17, 206; father of Io, 65, 207; ancestor of Minos, 246; Theban descendants of, 261; _C. 57_ and table D, _148_ (1) India, 153, 447, 448; records of myths of, 462, 463; epics, 153, 462, 463; studies and translations of literature of, _C. 303_ Indians, red, mental state of, 441; myths of, 448 Indo-Europeans, 448 In´dra, _C. 109_. See _Hindu divinities_ (1) I´no, 89, 156, 202, 229, 261; _C. 144_ I´o, 64, 94, 207; myth of, 65-67; Ionian Sea, 67; interpretation of myth, 439; genealogy, etc., _C. 57, 149-154_ I-ob´[.a]-t[=e][s+], 214, 215 I-o-la´us, 217, 221 I-ol´c[)o]s or I-ol´cus, 230; _C. 163-167_ I´o-l[=e], daughter of Eurytus, who refused to give her to Hercules, although the hero had fairly won her by his success in archery. Eurytus assigned as the reason for his refusal the apprehension lest Hercules might a second time become insane, and in that condition destroy Iole in spite of his love for her. By some she is made the half-sister of Dryope, 192, 225, 432 I´on, _C. 174_ I-o´n[)i]-a, 175 I-o´n[)i]-an Sea, 67 I-o´n[)i]-ans, origin of, 16; _C. 148_ (2) Iph´[)i]-cl[=e][s+], 216, 221 Iph-[)i]-[.g]e-ni´a, 275, 276; in Aulis, 280, 281; in Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women, 281; among the Taurians, 316; _C. 190-194_ (2), _196, 228-230_ (In Art) Iph-[)i]-me-di´a, 93 I´phis, 195 Iph´[)i]-tus, 221 I´ris, 40, 41, 176, 287, 296, 304, 367; _C. 38_ (12) Iron Age, the, 15 I´sis. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Islands of the Blest, 51, 52. See _Elysium_ Isles, the Fortunate, 52. See _Elysium_ Is´m[.a]-rus, 318 Is-me´n[=e], 263; _C. 182-189_ Is-me´nos, son of Niobe, 100 Is´tär, _C. 34_. See _Venus_ Isthmian Games, 202; _C. 176-181_ (Textual) Italian gods, 59-63 Italy, 260, 348, 352, 360 Ith´[.a]-ca, 278, 279, 318, 337, 338, 448, 452 It´y-lus. See _Itys_ I´tys (i´tis), 249 I-[=u]'lus, As-ca´n[)i]-us, 362, 363, 369, 372 Ix-i´[)o]n, 166, 167, 358; _C. 118, 255-257_ Ja´na, 61 J[.a]-ni[-c]'[=u]-lum, 366 Ja´nus, 60, 61, 363, 366; _C. 54_ Jarnvid (yärn´v[=e]d), 392 Ja´sius, Ja´sus, I-a´sius, I-a´sus, father of Atalanta the Arcadian. See _Iasius_ Ja´son, 206; myth of, 230-235; quest of the golden fleece, 230-233, 455; _C. 163-167_ Jo-cas´ta, 262, 263; _C. 182-189_, table N Jonah and Arion, 440 Jonakr (yôn´[.a]-k[~e]r), 405 Jormunrek (yôr´m[)oo]n-rek), 405 Jotham, 1. See _Judges_ 9, 7 Jötunheim (y[~e]'t[)oo]n-h[=a]m or y[~e]'t[)oo]n-h[=i]m), 374, 379, 380, 394 J[=u]'b[.a]l, 440 Ju´no (He´ra, He´r[=e]), 5, 7, 19; meaning of her names, 22; attributes of, her descent and marriage, 22; favorite cities and animals, 22; among the Romans, 59; Lucina, 61; protectress of women in Rome, 62; myths of Juno and Jupiter, 64-81; J. and Latona, 64; Io, 65-67; Callisto, 67, 68; Semele, 71; Ægina, 73; the sons of Cydippe, 80, 81; Vulcan, 90, 91; Bacchus, 152; Neptune, 169; Halcyone and Iris, 176; Echo, 188; Hercules, 216, 219, 227; Paris, 278; in Trojan War, 284, 285, 289, 295-298; Æneas, 350, 363-367, 372; _C. 26_ Ju´p[)i]-ter (Zeus), 5; war with Titans, 5, 6; sovereign of the world, 6; reign of, 6-8; creation of woman, 11; sends a flood to destroy men, 15; his abode, 18; his family, 19; signification of names, 19, _C. 24_; attributes, 19-21; his oracles, 19, 20; explanation of his love affairs, 20; other children of, 20; Greek conceptions of, 21; in art, statue of Olympian Jove by Phidias, 21; J. and Juno, 22; and Minerva, 23; and Metis, _C. 55_; and Vulcan, 25; and Latona, 26, 29, 64; and Dione, 31; and Maia, 34; and Vesta, 35; and Ganymede, 36; and Eurynome, 36; and Mnemosyne, 37; and Themis, 38; and Æsculapius, 38; and Semele, 44, 64, 71-73, 288; among the Romans, 59; myths of, 64-80; Danaë, 64, 208; Alcmene, 64, 215; Leda, 64, 242, 275; Io, 64-67; Callisto, 64, 67, 68, 241; Europa, 64, 68-71, 246; Ægina, 64, 73-75; Antiope, 64, 75-77; Baucis and Philemon, 77-80; treatment of Mars, 85, 86; the Aloadæ, 93; Phaëthon, 98; Æsculapius, 104; the Pleiads, 123; Cupid and Psyche, 136; Bacchus, 152; Ceres, 162; Neptune, 169; Ceyx and Halcyone, 177; Tithonus, 177, 180; the Cercopes, 222; Hercules, 227; Castor and Pollux, 243; Amphiaraüs, 265; Capaneus, 266; Peleus and Thetis, 269; in Trojan War, 278, 285-305, 312; Ulysses, 331; Æneas, 351, 356, 372; Salmoneus, 357; interpretations of, 434, 437; _C. 5, 10-15, 24-25, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61_ Ju-tur´na, 62, 245 Ju-ven´t[)a]s. See _Hebe_ Ju-ven´tus, 63 Kali (kä´l[=e]). See Uma under _Hindu divinities_ (2) Kär´ma: in Buddhism, the sum of a man's deeds, good and evil, which determines the nature of his future existence. See _Buddha_ and _Metempsychosis_ Khem (k[)e]m). See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) Khuns (k[=oo]nz). See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) Kle´is, _C. 107_ Ko´ra, Ko´r[=e] (Proserpina), 107; _C. 83_ Kriemhild (kr[=e]m´h[)i]lt), The Revenge of, 405-409, 461 Kro´n[)o]s. See _Cronus_ Lab´d[.a]-cus, house of, 206, 207, 261-264; _C. 57_, table D; _148_ (1); _182-189_, table N Lab´y-rinth, the, of Crete, 246, 253; _C. 172_ L[)a]ç-e-dæ´m[)o]n. See _Sparta_ La[-c]h´e-sis, a Fate, 38 L[.a]-co´n[)i]-a, 51, 110 La´d[)o]n, the serpent that guarded the apples of the Hesperides; slain by Hercules La-[=e]r´t[=e][s+], 278, 339; genealogy, _C. 190-194_ (4) Læstrygonians (les-tr[)i]-go´n[)i]-[.a]n[s+]), the, 170, 324 La´[)i]-us, 261, 262; _C. 182-189_, table N Lakshmi (l[)a]ksh´m[=e]). See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Lamb's month, _C. 79_ Lampetia (lam-pe´sh[)i]-a), 330 Language, disease of, 437, 438, 446 La-oc´o-[)o]n, 311, 312; _C. 224_ La-od-[.a]-mi´a, daughter of Bellerophon, 298 La-od-[.a]-[=m]i´a, wife of Protesilaüs, 282; lines from Wordsworth, 282, 283; _C. 83_ La-om´e-d[)o]n, 110, 169, 170, 177, 276, 280; expedition against, 206, 225; _C. 84, 190-194_ (5) Lap-[)i]-thæ, 259 La´r[=e][s+], distinguished from Penates, Manes, Larvæ, etc., 62 L[.a]-ris´sa, 108, 214; _C. 83_ Lär´væ, 62 L[.a]-ti´nus, 362 Lat´m[)o]s, Mount, 124; _C. 98_ L[.a]-to´na, Le´t[=o], children of, 19; and Delos, 29; and Jupiter, 64; wanderings of, 91, 92; and Niobe, 99-103; heals Æneas, 290; _C. 32, 72-73_ Lau´sus, 364, 370, 371 L[.a]-vin´[)i]-a, 362, 372 Le-an´der, 141-145; _C. 104_. See _Hero_ Leb-[.a]-de´a, _C. 30_ Le-byn´thos, 247 Le´da, 64, 237, 242, 259, 275; myth of, represented by Arachne, 84; _C. 168_, table K; _170-171, 190-194_ (3). See _Castor_ and _Pollux_ Le´laps, 175 Lem´n[)o]s, 25, 122, 231, 309; _C. 96, 107, 163-167_ Lem´[=u]-r[=e][s+], 62 Le-næ´a, _C. 42, 110-112_ L[~e]r-næ´an Hy´dra, 217 Le[s+]'b[)o]s, 149; _C. 107_ Lesser divinities of heaven among the Greeks, 35-41 Le´th[=e], 51, 176, 359, 360; _C. 44-46_ Le´t[=o], _C. 30, 32_. See _Latona_ Leucadia (l[=u]-ca´d[)i]-a), 454; _C. 107_ Leucippus (l[=u]-sip´us), 243 Leucothea (l[=u]-coth´e-a), a sea-divinity, 58, 202, 205, 331; _C. 144_ Li´ber, 59. See _Bacchus_ Lib´[~e]r-a, 59. See _Proserpina_ Li-beth´ra, 168; _C. 118_ Lib-[)i]-ti´na, _C. 48_ Lib´y-a, 97, 219; _C. 76_ Li´[-c]h[.a]s, 226 Lidskialf (lids´k[=é]-älf), 388, 389 Li-[.g]e´a, 205; _C. 146-147_ Light, 3, 4 Li´nus, 216, 451; lamentation for, 103, 104; _C. 75, 79_ Lit-y-[~e]r´s[=e][s+], 222, 223-225 Log, King, referred to, 1 Lo´[=g][~e], 412-414, 421. See _Loki_ Logi (lo´[=g][=e]), 382, 385 Lo-k[.a]-pä´lá[s+]. See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Loki (lo´k[=e]), Lo´[=g][~e], 377-397 _passim_, 400, 412 Lo´tis, 192 Lo´t[)o]s, lotos-eaters, 318, 319; extract from Tennyson's poem, 319, 320 Love, 3, 4 Lucian (l[=u]´sh[.a]n), 455, 457 _n_ L[=u]'ç[)i]-fer. See _Phosphor_ L[=u]'çi´na, 61; _C. 26_ L[=u]'na, 63. See _Diana_ and _Selene_ Ly-æ´us, _C. 42_ Ly-ca´[)o]n, 300 Lycia (lish´[)i]-a), 214, 298; _C. 155_ Lycians (lish´[)i]-[.a]n[s+]), 71 Lycidas (lis´[)i]-d[.a]s), a goatherd of pastoral poetry. See _Theocritus, Idyl 7_; _Virgil, Bucolics 9_; _Milton's Elegy on Edward King_, etc. Lycius (lish´[)i]-us), Apollo, _C. 30_ Lycomedes (lik-o-me´d[=e][s+]), 260, 279 Ly´co-phr[)o]n, _C. 298_ Ly-cur´gus, a king of the Edones, who, like Pentheus, resisted the worship of Bacchus Ly´cus, 75; _C. 62_ Ly´d[=e], 189 Lynceus (lin´s[=u]s), 207, 243 Lyngi (lin´[=g][=e]), 400 Lyric poets, Greek, 453, 454; translations of, _C. 298_; Roman, 457 Lytyerses (lit-[)i]-[~e]r´s[=e][s+]). See _Lityerses_ M[.a]-[-c]ha´[)o]n, 296, 297, 309 M[.a]-cro´b[)i]-us, referred to, 60 Mæ-an´der, 97, 222, 246; _C. 76, 172_ Mænades (men´[.a]-d[=e][s+]), Mænads (me´-nads), 44, 45, 75, 254; _C. 62, 110-112_ Mænalus (men´[.a]-lus), a range of mountains in Arcadia, sacred to Pan, 112 Mæ-o´n[)i]-a, 154; _C. 110-112_ Mæ-[=o]n´[)i]-d[=e][s+]: a native of Mæonia; Homer Mag´na Ma´ter, 59 Mahâbhârata (m[.a]-hä-bä´r[.a]-t[.a]), 462; translation, _C. 303_ Maia (ma´y[.a]), mother of Mercury (Hermes), 19, 34, 150; _C. 109_ Maia (ma´y[.a]), Ma´ja, or Ma-jes´ta: a name for Fauna, or for the daughter of Faunus and wife of the Roman Vulcan. In either case, called Bona Dea Man, origin of, Greek, 8, 9 Ma´n[=e][s+], 62 M[.a]-nil´[)i]-us, _C. 299_ Man´t[=u]-a, 456 M[)a]r´[.a]-th[)o]n, 258 M[)a]r-[.a]-tho´n[)i]-[.a]n Bull, 252; _C. 176-181_ (Interpret.) Ma´ro. See _Virgil_ Mär-pes´sa, 115, 116 Mars (A´r[=e][s+]), one of the great gods, 19; meaning of names, 23; attributes, 23, 24; his retinue, his mistress, his favorite abode and animals, 24; among the Romans, 59; father of Harmonia, 71, 89; myths of, 84-90; and Diomede, 84-86, 290; and Minerva, 86, 87; and Cadmus, 87-90, 261; and Vulcan, 91; father of [OE]nomaüs, 170; M. and Atalanta, 265; in Trojan War, 285, 287, 290; _C. 28_ Marsyas (mär´s[)i]-[)a]s), 112, 138, 451; _C. 87, 113_ Maruts (mur´[)oo]ts). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Mass, 4 Mä-t. See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) Ma´ter Ma-t[=u]'ta, the goddess of the dawn, Aurora; among the Romans the name was applied also to Ino (Leucothea), 63 Ma´ter Tur´r[)i]-ta: Cybele, or Cybebe, with the mural crown, as protectress of walled cities Mat-ro-na´l[)i]-a, _C. 26_ Me-co´n[=e]. See _Sicyon_ Me-de´a, myth of, 232-236, 242, 243, 252, 455; _C. 163-167_; genealogy, _172_, table L Medici (med´[=é]-ch[=e]), the Venus of, 32, 33; _C. 35_ Me-d[=u]´sa, myth of, 208-211; extract from William Morris' Doom of King Acrisius, 209, 210; from Shelley's Medusa of Da Vinci, 210; _C. 149-154_ Me-[.g]æ´ra, 54 Meg-[.a]-len´sian Games, _C. 41_ Meg´[.a]-ra, 201, 202, 246 Meg´[.a]-ra, wife of Hercules, 216, 220 Me-lam´pus, 450 Mel-e-a´[.g]er or Me-le´[.a]-[.g]er, 206, 225, 231, 242, 265, 275; myth of, 237-241; as the sun, 432; _C. 168_ Mel-e-si[.g]'e-n[=e][s+], _C. 298_ Melib[oe]us (mel-[)i]-be´us), a herdsman of pastoral poetry. See _Virgil, Bucolics 1_ Mel´ic Nymphs, 5 Mel-[)i]-ç[~e]r´t[=e][s+], a sea-god, 58, 202, 261; _C. 70_ Melisseus (me-lis´[=u]s), _C. 146-147_ Me´l[)o]s, the Venus of, 32; _C. 35_ Mel-pom´e-n[=e], the muse of tragedy, 37; _C. 38_ (4) Mem´n[)o]n, myth of, extract from Darwin's Botanic Garden, 179, 180, _C. 128_; family connections, 276, _C. 190-194_ (5); at Troy, 307 Mem´phis, a city in middle Egypt, _C. 30_ Me-nal´c[.a]s, a herdsman of pastoral poetry Men-e-la´us, 275, 278-299, 313, 314; _C. 190-194_ (2), _195, 196_ Me-ne´n[)i]-us, 2 Men[oe]ceus (me-ne´s[=u]s), 266; _C. 182-189_, table N Men[oe]tius (me-ne´sh[)i]-us), son of Actor and father of Patroclus; an Argonaut; _C. 190-194_ (4) Men´tor, _C. 231-244_ Mentu (men´t[=oo]). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Mer´c[=u]-ry, Mer-c[=u]'r[)i]-us (Herm´es), son of Maia, 19; meaning of name, 34; attributes, 34, 35; conductor of ghosts, 35, 47; among the Romans, 59; Argus and Io, 66, 67; his story of Pan and Syrinx, 66, 67; with Philemon and Baucis, 77; and Psyche, 136; myths of, Homeric Hymn to, 150, 151; aids Perseus, 209; aids Hercules, 220; father of Daphnis, 223, 224; M. and Nephele, 229; and Priam, 305; and Ulysses, 325, 331; and Æneas, 351; interpretations of, 432, 440; _C. 36, 109_ M[)e]r´o-p[=e], of Arcadia, 241; _C. 169_ M[)e]r´o-p[=e], daughter of [OE]nopion, 122 M[)e]r´o-p[=e], the Pleiad, 124; _C. 97, 155_, table Mes-se´n[=e], 115, 243 Mes-se´n[)i]-a, 241; _C. 80_ Met´[.a]-bus, 364 Met-[.a]-môr´pho-s[=e][s+], Ovid's, 456, 457 Me-temp-sy-[-c]ho´sis, 360; _C. 255-257_ Me´tis, _C. 55_ Mezentius (me-zen´sh[)i]-us), 364, 367, 370, 371 Mi´d[.a]s, with Apollo and Pan, 110, 111; with Bacchus and Pan, 152, 157, 158; the choice of, 157; _C. 85-87, 113_ Mid´gärd, 373, 374, 378, 389, 392, 394 Mid´gärd serpent, 377, 386, 387, 395 Mi-lan´[)i]-[)o]n (or Hip-pom´e-n[=e][s+]), _C. 103_ Mi´lo. See _Melos_ Mi´m[.a]s, _C. 8_ Mime (m[=e]'m[~e]), in the Rhine-gold, 414, 421-424; in the Volsunga Saga, see _Regin_ Mimir (m[=e]'m[=e]r), 374 M[)i]-n[~e]r´va ([.A]-the´na, [.A]-the´n[=e]), 7; quotation from Odyssey, 18; daughter of Jupiter, 19; attributes, 23; meaning of her names, 23; her _ægis_, 23; favorite cities and animals, 23; among the Romans, 59; myths of, 81-84; contest with Neptune, 81, 82, 249; with Arachne, 82-84; quotation from Spenser's Muiopotmos, 83; contests with Mars, 84-86; helps Cadmus, 88, 89; inventor of the flute, 112; M. and Medusa, 208; Perseus, 209, 213; Bellerophon, 215; Hercules, 216, 220; Perdix, 248; Erichthonius, 249; Theseus, 256; Tiresias, 266; Paris, 278; in Trojan War, 284, 289, 290, 300, 302, 308-311; Orestes, 317; Ulysses, 332-340; _C. 10-15, 27_ M[)i]-no´id (M[)i]-no´is), Ariadne, daughter of Minos, 254 Mi´n[)o]s I, judge of the shades, 51, 53, 356; son of Europa, 71, 207; the house of, 206, 246-248; _C. 57_, table D, _148_ (1), _172_ Mi´n[)o]s II, 201; myths of, 242, 246, 247, 252, 259, 275 Minotaur (min´o-tôr), 246, 252, 256; _C. 172, 176-181_ Minyæ (min´[)i]-[=e]): descendants of Minyas, king of Thessaly; Argonauts Mist, 3 Mnemosyne (ne-mos´[)i]-n[=e]), 4; mother of the Muses, 37; _C. 4_ M[oe]ræ (me´r[=e]), Par´çæ. See _Fates_ M[oe]ragetes (me-r[)a]j´e-t[=e][+s]): name applied to Zeus as leader of the Fates Mo´ly, 319, 325 Mo´mus, _C. 49_, table B Mongolians, 448 Mop´sus, attendant of the Argonauts, 451 Mop´sus, an ideal singer of elegies. See _Virgil, Bucolics 5_ Morpheus (môr´f[=u]s), 177; _C. 125._ See _Somnus_ Môr[+s], Than´[.a]-t[)o]s, Death, 298 Mos´[-c]hus, Lang's translation of Idyl II, 68-70; of Idyl VI, 189; _C. 59, 298_ Mountain giants, 376, 378-386, 393 Mul´ç[)i]-b[~e]r, 59; _C. 29_ Munin (m[=oo]'n[='e]n), 374 Munychia (m[=u]-nik´[)i]-a), _C. 32_. See _Diana_ M[=u]-sæ´us, a mythical poet, 451 M[=u]-sæ´us, writer of Hero and Leander, 141; translation by Fawkes in English Translations from Ancient and Modern Poems, Vol. II; _C. 104, 298_ M[=u]-sa[.g]'e-t[=e][s+]: name of Apollo as leader of the Muses Muses (M[=u]´sæ), 18, 30; names and attributes, 37; _C. 38_ (4) Music, Lydian, Dorian, etc., _C. 59_ Muspelheim (m[=oo]s´pel-h[=a]m or m[=oo]s´-pel-h[=i]m), 373, 395 Mut (m[=oo]t), or Maut. See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) My-çe´næ:, 22, 216, 275, 280, 316 Myg-do´n[)i]-an flutes, 69; _C. 59_ Myrmidons (m[~e]r´m[)i]-d[)o]n[s+]), 75, 269, 297; _C. 61_ My´r[)o]n, a sculptor, _C. 64_ Myr´rha (m[)i]r´a), 126, 150 Myrtilus (m[~e]r´t[)i]-lus), 171 Mysia (mish´[)i]-a), 179, 222, 231; _C. 128, 156-162_ Mysteries of Eleusis, _C. 114-117_ Myth, stages of mythological philosophy, study of myth, see Introduction; definition of, 1; compared with fable, 1, 2; of existent races, 2; Greek myths of creation, 3-17; of great divinities of heaven, 64-151; of great divinities of earth, 152-158; of earth and underworld, 159-168; of waters, 169-171; of lesser divinities of heaven, 172-180; of lesser divinities of earth and underworld, 181-197; of lesser divinities of waters, 198-205; of the older heroes, 206-264; of the younger heroes, 265 _et seq._; of the Norse gods, 373-397; of Norse and Old German heroes, 398-409. Kinds of myth, 431; explanatory, 431; æsthetic, 432; æsthetic myth is _historic_ or _romantic_, 433; of unconscious growth, 433; divisions of inquiry, 433. Origin and Elements of myth, 433-446; the reasonable element, 434; part played by imagination, 434; and by belief, 435; the unreasonable element, 436; theories of, 436; theory of deterioration, 436-440; theory of progress, 440-446. Interpretation, methods of: _historical_ or Euhemeristic, 436; _philological_, 437; _allegorical_, 438; _theological_, 439; the mental state of savages, 440-442; senseless element, a survival, 442; anthropological method of study, _ætiological_ origin, 442; other germs than savage curiosity and credulity, 442; phases of myth-development, 443-445; physical, religious and moral import, 444; myth more than sham history, 446; general conclusion concerning elements of myth, 446. Distribution of myth, 447-449; theories of _accident_, _borrowing_, _origination in India_, _historical tradition_, 447; _Aryan germ_, _psychological basis_, 448; the state of the problem, 449. Preservation of myth, 450-463; in Greece, 450-455; in Italy, 456, 457; in Scandinavian lands, 457-460; in Germany, 460, 461; in the Orient, 462, 463. Interpretation and illustration of myths, see Commentary sections corresponding to those of the Text. Mythical musicians and poets, 451 Mythical prophets, 450, 451 Mythical tales of the Younger Edda, 459 Naiad (na´yad), the poem by R. Buchanan, 190, 191 Naiads (na´yads), Naiades (na´y[.a]-d[=e][s+]), 58, 98, 186, 189-191, 198, 204, 222, 224; _C. 50-52_ Na´is, 185; _C. 129-130_ N[.a]'l[.a], episode of, 461, 462 Nalopákhyánam (n[.a]-lo-pä-kyä´n[.a]m), translation of, _C. 303_ Names, Greek and Latin, system of transliteration of, see Preface; pronunciation of, 541, 542, and Index Nän´nä, 390-392; _C. 268-281_ Nar-çis´sus, 188, 189; _C. 132-133_ Nausicaa (nô-sik´[=a]-[.a]), 332-336; _C. 231-244_ Nausithoüs (nô-sith´o-us), 332 Nax´[)o]s, 153, 154, 155, 156, 169, 257; _C. 110-112_ Ne-æ´ra, a maiden of pastoral song. See _Virgil, Bucolics 3_ Nefer Atum (na´f[)e]r ä´t[=oo]m). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Neidings (ni´ding[s+]), 416 Neith (na´ith). See _Egyptian divinities_, (2) Neleus (ne´l[=u]s), 170 Ne´me-a, the city, the valley, and the lion of, 216; _C. 156-162_ Ne-me´an, or Ne´me-an, Games, founded by Hercules; held in honor of Jupiter; _C. 176-181_ (Textual) Nem´e-sis, 38; _C. 38_ (7) Ne-op-tol´e-mus, 276, 293, 309, 313, 314, 349 Ne-pen´th[=e], 314 Neph (n[)e]f), Chnuphis (kn[=oo]'fis), Khnum (kn[=oo]m), Num or Nu (n[=oo]m, n[=oo]). See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) Nephele (nef´e-l[=e]), 121, 229 Nephthys (nef´this). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Nep´tune, Nep-t[=u]'nus (Po-sei´d[)o]n), 5, 6, 15, 204, 454; sometimes reckoned as one of the great gods, 19; founder of the younger dynasty of the waters, 55, 56; among the Romans, 59; contest with Minerva, 81, 82, 249; N. and Iphimedia, 93; and Phaëthon, 97; and Laomedon, 110, 169, 170; and Idas, 115; father of Orion, 122, 170; myths of, 169-171; N. and Andromeda, 169; sons of N., 170; N. and Amymone, and Ceres, and Arne, and Tyro, and Pelops, 170, 171; and Erysichthon, 192; his sea calves pastured by Proteus, 202; his son Antæus, 220; and Minos, 246; and Hippolytus, 260; in Trojan War, 285, 293-296, 301, 311; and Ulysses, 337; and Æneas, 350, 352; _C. 50-52_, table C Ne´re-ids (Ne-re´[)i]-d[=e][s+]), the, 55, 69, 97, 247 Nereus (ne´r[=u]s), 55, 97, 198, 204, 269 Nes´sus, 225 Nes´tor, 179, 231, 237, 239; in Trojan War, 280, 285, 286, 294-297 Netherlands, 405, 406 Nibelheim (ne´bel-h[=a]m or ne´bel-h[=i]m), 412 _et seq._ Nibelung (ne´b[~e]-l[)oo]ng), Wagner's Ring of the, 410-430 Nibelungenlied (ne´b[~e]-l[)oo]ng´en-l[=e]t´), 405-409; theories of origin, 460, 461; _C. 283_ Niblungs (ne´bl[)oo]ng[s+]), Nibelungs (ne´-b[~e]-l[)oo]ngs), Nibelungen (ne´b[~e]-l[)oo]ng-en), 403-430; lay of the, 405-409, 460, 461; Wagner's Ring of the, 410-430; _C. 282, 283, 282-283_ Ni-can´der, _C. 298_ Nidhogg (n[=e]d´h[)o]g), 374 Niflheim (n[=e]v´'l-h[=a]m or n[)i]f´l-h[=i]m), 373, 374, 377, 379, 394; _C. 282-283_ Night, Nyx (n[)i]x), Nox, a prime element of Nature, 3, 4; mother of the Fates and of Nemesis, 38, 176, 196; family of, _C. 49_, table B Ni´k[=e], 41. See _Victoria_ Nile, the river, 97, 180; _C. 149-154_ Nimrod and the giants, 440 Ni´nus, 148 Ni´o-be, 77, 170; the punishment of, 99-103; quotation from Landor's Niobe, 102, 103; genealogy, interpretation, etc., _C. 78_ Nirvana (n[=e]r-vä´na): annihilation, or absorption into the Infinite, of the Karma (human character, or soul) after it has passed through innumerable existences, and learned the virtuous life. See _Buddha_ Ni´sus, father of Scylla, 201, 202 Ni´sus, friend of Euryalus, 368-370 Noah and Deucalion, 440 No´m[)i]-[)o]s, No´m[)i]-us, an epithet applied to Apollo as the pasturer or herdsman; see 104-106, 110; _C. 30_ (In Art) Nôrns, 374, 375, 388, 402; in Wagner's Ring, 424, 426 Norse gods, myths of, 2, 373-397; _C. 268-281_ Norse heroes, myths of, 398-405; _C. 268-282_ Norse mythology, narrative of, 373-405; records of, 457-460; translations and authorities, 458-460 notes, and _C. 268-282_ North American Indians, mental state of, 441; myths of, 448 Norway, Norsemen, 442, 448; _C. 268-281_ Nos´toi, the, 453 Nothung (no´t[)oo]ng), 418, 421-425 No´tus, 38 N[)o]x, Nyx (n[)i]x). See _Night_ N[=u]'ma Pom-pil´[)i]-us, 61, 63; _C. 28_ Nut (n[=oo]t). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Nycteus (nik´t[=u]s), 75; _C. 62_ Nymphs, the, 45, 46, 97, 180, 189, 205; _C. 131_ Ny´sa, an ideal maiden in pastoral poetry Ny´sa, Nysian-born (nish´[)i]-an), 258. Three cities bore the name of Nysa,--in Caria, in Palestine, and in India; the last is here referred to; _C. 42, 110-112_ Nysæan (ni-se´an) nymphs, 152 Nyx (n[)i]x), N[)o]x. See _Night_ O-a´sis or O´[.a]-sis, in Libya, oracle of Jupiter Ammon at, 20 Oblivion, valley of, 359, 360 Ocean, O-çe´[.a]-nus, the river, 3, 35, 42, 43, 327, 328 O-çe´[.a]-nids, 55, 58 O-çe´[.a]-nus, the Titan, 4, 5, 22; older dynasty of the waters, 55, 67, 68, 204, 207; _C. 4, 50-52_ Ocyrrhoë (o-s[)i]r´o-[=e]), 104 O´din, 373-377, 386-405 _passim_; in Wagner's Ring, 412-430; interpretation of, 437; _C. 268-281_ Odysseus (o-dis´[=u]s). See _Ulysses_ and _Odyssey_ Odyssey (od´[)i]-s[)i]), cited, 18, 35, 47, 51, and footnotes _passim_; hero of, 275, 276; narrative of, 318-345; Lang's sonnet, 318; a kind of myth, 433, 448; history of, 452; translations and authorities, _C. 231-244, 298_ [OE]chalia (e-ka´l[)i]-a), 225, 226; _C. 156-162_ [OE]dipus (ed´[)i]-pus), mentioned, 90, 206, 207, 455; myth of, 261-264, 268; and the Sphinx, 262; is made king, 262; at Colonus, 263; extracts from Plumptre's translation of Sophocles' [OE]dipus the King and [OE]dipus Coloneus, 262-264; _C. 182-189_ [OE]neus (e´n[=u]s), 225, 237 [OE]nomaüs (en-o-ma´us), 170, 171 [OE]none (e-no´n[=e]), 310, 432; _C. 221_ [OE]nopion (e-no´p[)i]-[)o]n), father of Merope and king of Chios. See _Orion_ [OE]te ([=e]'t[=e]), or [OE]'ta, Mount, 96, 226, 227; _C. 76, 156-162_ O-i´cl[=e][s+], father of Amphiaraüs and grandfather of Alcmæon Oïleus (o-i´l[=u]s), 286 Olympian religion, the, 20; _C. 23_ and table A Olympic Games, _C. 178-181_ (Textual) O-lym´pus, Mount, 93, 97 O-lym´pus, home of the Greek gods of heaven, 2, 6; located and described, 18; Homer's conception of, 18, 19, 42; myths of greater gods of, 64-151; of lesser gods of, 172-180; dynasty of, dethroned, 181; _C. 22_ Om´ph[.a]-l[=e], 221 O-phi´[)o]n, _C. 4, 71_ [)O]ps, 59 Oracle, at Delphi, 5, 27, 42; at Dodona, 19, 20; of Jupiter Ammon in the Oasis, 20; of Trophonius, _C. 30_; of the dead, 51; of Apollo, consulted, 128, 130, 175, 315, 316, 347; _C. 24-25, 30_ Or-[-c]hom´e-n[)o]s, Or-[-c]hom´e-nus, 216; _C. 156-162_ Or´cus, 83. See _Pluto_ O´re-ads (O-re´[.a]-d[=e][s+]), 46, 186, 188, 192 O-res´t[=e][s+], 196, 268, 275, 315-317; _C. 190-194_ (2), _228-230_ Oriental mythology, records of, 462, 463 Origin, of the world, Greek, 3; of the gods, 4, 8; of man, 8, 9; Norse, 373, 374 O-ri´[)o]n, 41, 170; myth of, 122, 123; _C. 96_ Orithyia (or-[)i]-thi´ya), daughter of Erechtheus, king of Athens, loved by Boreas, 38, 39; _C. 38_ (9) Or´m[)u]zd, 463 Orpheus (or´f[=u]s), 112, 206, 230, 232, 233, 242, 359, 451; and Eurydice, 165-168, 203; quotation from Landor's Orpheus and Eurydice, 167, 168; _C. 118_; cited, 3 Orphic hymns, 451 Or´th[)i]-a, _C. 32_. See _Diana_ Ortygia (or-tij´[)i]-a), 120; _C. 32, 93_ O-si´ris, 447. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Os´sa, Mount, 93, 97; _C. 76_. It is in Thessaly. By piling Ossa on Pelion the Titans C[oe]us and Iapetus and the monster Typhoeus thrice attempted to scale Olympus, but were as often beaten back by the lightnings of Jove. See _Virgil, Georgics 1, 281_ Othrys (oth´ris), the mountain in Thessaly occupied by the Titans in their war with Jupiter and the other Olympians Ot´ter, 400, 401 O´tus, 93 Ov´id (O-vid´[)i]-us), account of, and of his poems, 456, 457; references to his works, 54, 60, 65, 68, 72, 73, 79, 82, 84, 90, 92, 94, 96, 98, 102, 110, 112, 116, 117, 120, 123, 125, 126, 139, 141, 145, 147, 150, 153, 157, 159, 160, 165, 172, 175, 180, 188, 191, 195, 200, 202, 203, 207, 208, 215, 230, 233, 235, 237, 243, 246, 249, 250, 269; translations, _C. 299_; also of the Metamorphoses in 15 books by various authors, published by Sir Samuel Garth, in Vol. II of English Translations from Ancient and Modern Poems, 3 vols., London, 1810 Pac-to´lus, 158; _C. 110-112_ Pa´dus, or Po, the river, 359 Pæ´[.a]n, Pæ´[)o]n, Paiëon (pi-e´[)o]n), heals Mars, 86, 290; _C. 68_ Pæ´[.a]n, the chant, 26, 92; _C. 68_ Pakht (pä[.c]ht) and Bäst. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) P[.a]-læ´m[)o]n, 202. See _Melicertes_ Pal-[.a]-me´d[=e][s+], 279 Pa´l[=e][s+], 61 Pal-[)i]-n[=u]'rus, 352, 355; _C. 245-254_ Pal-la´d[)i]-um, the, 310, 314; _C. 27_ Pal´l[.a]s, Athena, 7, 23; _C. 27_. See _Minerva_ Pal´l[.a]s, a Giant, 7 Pal´l[.a]s, son of Evander, 365-367, 371, 372 Pan, described, 45; Pandean pipes, 66, 67; contest with Apollo, 110, 111; father of Silenus, 152; P. and the personification of nature, 181-187; extracts from Milton, Schiller, Mrs. Browning, reference to Wordsworth, 181-183; E. C. Stedman's Pan in Wall Street, 183-185; love of Echo, 189; in Buchanan's Naiad, 190; P. and Pomona, 195; _C. 43, 54, 57, 129-130, 131_ Pan-ath-e-næ´a, _C. 27, 176-181_ Pan´d[.a]-rus, 289; _C. 196_ Pan-de´m[)o]s, _C. 34_. See _Venus_ Pan-di´[)o]n, 249; _C. 148_ (4), _174_ Pan-do´ra, 2; creation of, 11, 25; wife of Epimetheus, her casket, 11; _C. 10-15_ Pan´dro-s[)o]s, daughter of Cecrops. See _Herse_ Pan´o-p[=e], 88; _C. 70_ Pan´o-p[=e], a Nereid, 55; _C. 50-52_ Pa´ph[)i]-an, 128; _C. 34_. See _Venus_ Pa´ph[)o]s, 32, 126, 147, 149; _C. 34, 100_ Papyri (p[.a]-p[=i]'r[=i]), the sacred, 462 Parcæ (pär´s[=e]), M[oe]ræ (m[=e]'r[=e]). See _Fates_ P[)a]r´is (should be P[=a]'ris, by rule), 276, 296; the judgment of, 278, 350; P. and Helen, 278, 279, 289, 313; and Menelaüs, 286-289; and Achilles, 308; and [OE]none, 309, 310; _C. 190-194_ (5), _195, 207, 221_ Pär-nas´sus, Mount, in Phocis, 26, 27, 97, 112; _C. 30, 38_ (4), _76_ Pa´r[)o]s, 198 Pär-the´n[)i]-us, _C. 298_ Pär´the-n[)o]n, _C. 4, 24-25, 27, 38_ (10), _40, 48, 176-181_ Pär-then-o-pæ´us, 265 Pär-then´o-p[=e], 205, 329 Pär´the-n[)o]s, the Virgin, a title of Athene Parvati (pär´w[.a]-t[=e] or pär´v[.a]-t[=e]). See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Pasiphaë (p[.a]-sif´a-[=e]), 246; _C. 172_ P[.a]-sith´e-a. (1) A Nereid. (2) One of the Graces P[.a]-tro´clus or Pat´ro-clus, 275, 296-299, 303; _C. 190-194_ (4), _207_ Patronymics, _C. 77_ Pau-sa´n[)i]-[.a]s, 455; references to, 75, 125, 180, 207, 208, 241, 246, 249, 265, 268; _C. 26_ Peg´[.a]-sus, myth of, 211, 214, 215; _C. 155_ Peitho (pi´tho), Suadela (sw[.a]-d[=e]'la), goddess of Persuasion Pe-la´[.g][)i]-a, _C. 34_. See _Venus_ Pe-las´[.g]ic division of the Greeks, 16 Pe-las´[=g]us, son or grandson of Phoroneus, 17, 206, 207; _C. 21, 57_, table D Peleus (pe´l[=u]s), 206, 225, 231, 237, 239, 274; myth of Peleus and Thetis, 269-272, 277, 279; translation of Catullus, LXIV, by C. M. Gayley, 269-272, family of Peleus, 275, 276; _C. 190-194_ (1), _199_ Pe´l[)i]-[.a]s, 106, 170, 230, 233; daughters of, 235, _C. 83_ Pe-li´d[=e][s+], 272; _C. 77_ Pe´l[)i]-[)o]n, Mount, 93, 111, 271, 274; _C. 76_. See _Ossa_ Pel-o-pon-ne´sus, 16, 207 Pe´lops, 99, 206, 250, 434; and Hippodamia, 170, 171, 275; genealogy, etc., _C. 78, 190-194_ (2) Pe-na´t[=e][s+], described, 61, 62 Pe-nel´o-p[=e], 275, 276, 279, 328, 338-344; _C. 190-194_ (3), (4), _231-244_ Pe-ne´us river, 111, 113, 218, 271; _C. 85-86_ Pen-thes-[)i]-le´a, 307 Pentheus (pen´th[=u]s), 89, 152-156, 261; _C. 110-112, 182-189_, table N Pe-phre´d[=o], one of the Grææ P[~e]r´dix, 248 P[)e]r-[)i]-e´r[=e][s+], _C. 148_ (2), (5) P[)e]r-[)i]-phe´t[=e][s+] or P[)e]r-[)i]-pha´t[=e][s+], 251; _C. 176-181_ P[~e]r-se´is, daughter of Perses, wife of Helios, and mother of Pasiphaë, Ariadne, Phædra, and Æëtes, _C. 125_, table H P[~e]r-seph´o-n[=e], 53, 127, 327. See _Proserpina_ Perseus (p[~e]r´s[=u]s), 17, 206; myth of, 208-214; and Medusa, 208-211; and Atlas, 211; and Andromeda, 211-214, 215, 216; and Acrisius, 214; lines from Kingsley and Milman, 212, 213; _C. 149-154_ Persia, 448; records of myth, 463; studies on, _C. 304_ Personification, to-day, 434; among savages, 435 Pes´s[)i]-nus, Pes´[)i]-nus, _C. 41_ Pet´[.a]-sus, the, 34 Phæacia (fe-a´sh[)i]-a), 332-338; Lang's Song of, 335, 336; _C. 231-244_ Phæ´dra, 259, 260, 328; _C. 172_, table L; _176-181_ (Illustr.) Phæ´drus, 2 Pha´e-th[)o]n, Pha´e-t[)o]n, myth of, 94-98, 432; _C. 76_ Pha-e-th[=u]´sa, 330 Phan´t[.a]-sus, son of Somnus, _C. 125_. See _Sleep_ Pha´[)o]n, 139; myth of, 149, 454; _C. 107_ Pha´r[)o]s, island, 203; _C. 145_ Phar-sa´lus, a city in Thessaly; Phar-sa´l[)i]-a, the region thereabout Pha´sis, the river, 223; _C. 156-162_ Phe´ræ, capital of Thessalia Pelasgiotis, home of Admetus Phid´[)i]-[.a]s, Olympian Jove of, 21; Homer's lines in Iliad, 21; _C. 27, 38_ (10), _64_ Ph[)i]-le´m[)o]n and Bau´çis, myth of, 77-80; Swift's burlesque, 79, 80 Phil-oc-te´t[=e][s+], 227, 309, 453; _C. 219-220_ Phil-o-me´la, 249, 250; _C. 174_ Phineus (fi´n[=u]s), 213, 231, 348; _C. 163-167_ Phle[=g]'e-th[)o]n, 47, 356 Pho´b[)o]s or Ph[)o]b´[)o]s, Fear, son and attendant of Mars, 24 Pho´çis, 249, 315 Ph[oe]'b[=e] (the shining one), a name of Diana, 138; _C. 32, 98_ Ph[oe]'b[=e], one of the Titans, 64; _C. 4_ Ph[oe]'bus, _C. 28, 30_. See _Apollo_ Ph[oe]nicians (fe-nish´ans) as disseminators of cults, 20 Ph[oe]'nix, 274, 294 Pho´lus, 217 Phor´b[.a]s, 352 Phorcys (fôr´sis) and Çe´t[=o], offspring of, 57, 201 Phoroneus (fo-ro´n[=u]s), son of Inachus, 17, 207; _C. 57_, table D Phos´phor, 40, 172, 175 Phrixus (frix´us), 229, 230; _C. 163-167_ (Interpret.) Phrygia (frij´[)i]-a), 77, 99, 152, 223, 448; _C. 63_ Phtha (fthä), Ptah (p´tä). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Phthia (thi´a), 269, 274 Phyllis (fil´is), an ideal maiden of pastoral poetry Pi-[)e]r´[)i]-d[=e][s+]: the Muses as daughters of Pierus, king of Thessaly, or as frequenters of Mount Pierus Pi´[~e]r-us, Mount, in Thessaly, 150; _C. 109_ Pillars of Hercules, 219; _C. 156-162_ Pin´d[.a]r (Pin´d[.a]-rus), 453, 454; references to, 51, 170, 180; translations, _C. 298_ Pin´dus, Mount, 97; _C. 76_ Pip-le´a, 223 Pi-ræ´us, 253 Pi-re´n[=e], a fountain in Corinth, said to have started from the ground (like Hippocrene) under a kick of Pegasus, 215 Pi-rith´o-us, 237, 243, 258, 259 P[)i]-sis´tr[.a]-tus, 452 Pittheus (pit´th[=u]s), 251; _C. 78_, table F; _148_ (5) B, table I; _174_, table M; _190-194_ (2), table O Pleasure, 136 Pleiads (ple´yads), Pleiades (ple´y[.a]-d[=e][s+] or ple-i´[.a]-d[=e][s+]), daughters of Atlas, 57, 180; myth of, 123, 124; _C. 97_ Plenty, goddess of, 204 Plex-ip´pus, 238, 240 Plutarch (pl[=oo]'tärk), referred to, 250, 252 Pluto (pl[=oo]'t[=o]), A´[)i]-d[=e][s+], A´d[=e][s+], Ha´d[=e][s+], 5, 6, 20, 234, 355; his abode, 47-50, 353; attributes, 52, 53; the Roman Orcus, 53, 59; and Æsculapius, 104; carries off Proserpine, 159, 160; mollified by Orpheus, 166; and Neptune, 170; helmet of, 209; and Hercules, 220; Theseus and Pirithoüs, 259; _C. 47_ Plutus (pl[=oo]'tus), _C. 47_ P[oe]as (pe´[.a]s), 227 P[oe]na (pe´na). (1) Greek, an attendant, with Di´ke and Erinys, of Nemesis. (2) Latin, goddess of punishment. P[oe]næ: sometimes the Furies Poets of mythology, in Greece, 451-455; in Rome, 456, 457; _C. 298, 299_. See, in general, under _Myth, Preservation of_ Po-li´t[=e][s+], 312 Pol´lux, Polydeuces (pol-[)i]-d[=u]´s[=e][s+]), 206, 230, 237, 242-245, 275, 289; _C. 190-194_ (3) Pol-y-bo´t[=e][s+], _C. 8_ Pol´y-bus, 261, 262 Pol-y-cli´tus, Pol-y-cle´tus, 81; _C. 26, 64_ Pol-y-de[-c]'t[=e][s+], 208; punished by Perseus, 213 Pol-y-de[-c]'t[=e][s+], a name applied to Pluto, _C. 47_ Pol´y-döre (Pol-y-do´rus), son of Cadmus, 89, 261; _C. 182-189_, table N Pol´y-döre (Pol-y-do´rus), son of Priam, 347 Pol-y-hym´n[)i]-a (Po-lym´n[)i]-a), the muse of sacred poetry, 37; _C. 38_ (4) Pol-y-i´dus, 215 Polynesian (pol-[)i]-ne´shan) savages, mental development of, 441; myths among, 447, 449 Pol-y-ni´ç[=e][s+], 264, 265, 266, 268; _C. 182-189_, table N Pol-y-phe´mus, 170; and Galatea, Lang's translation of Theocritus, Idyls VI and XI, 198-200; P. and Ulysses, 320-323; and Æneas, 349; _C. 141, 231-244_ Pol-y-phon´t[=e], 150 Pol-y-phon´t[=e][s+], 241 Polyxena (po-lix´e-na), 272, 276, 307, 313; _C. 190-194_ (5), _219-220_ Po-mo´na, quotation from Macaulay's Prophecy of Capys, 61; and Vertumnus, myth of, extract from Thomson's Seasons, 195; _C. 54, 139_ Pon´tus, region near the Black Sea, Ovid's Letters from, 456 Pon´tus, a sea-god, 55, 201 Porphyrion (pôr-f[)i]r´[)i]-[)o]n), a Giant, 7 Pôr-tha´[)o]n, genealogy of, _C. 148_ (3), (5), _168_ Pôr-tum´nus, 202. See _Melicertes_ Poseidon (po-si´d[)o]n). See _Neptune_ Prax-it´[='e]-l[=e][s+], a Greek sculptor, _C. 35, 36, 38_ (1), _54, 100, 131_ Pri´am (Pri´[.a]-mus), 179, 225, 276; in Trojan War, 278-307, 312, 313; _C. 190-194_ (5), _207, 216_ Pri-a´pus, a Roman god of increase, promoter of horticulture and viticulture Prithivi (pr[)i]-t[=e]'v[)i]). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Proc´n[=e], Prog´n[=e], 249, 250; _C. 174_ Pro´cris, 172-175; Dobson's Death of, 174, 175, 328; _C. 123-124_ Pro-crus´t[=e][s+], 170, 251 Prod´[)i]-cus of Chios, a contemporary of Socrates; author of the story of the Choice of Hercules Pr[oe]tus (pr[=e]'tus), 214 Progress, theory of, in mythology, 436, 440-446 Prometheus (pro-me´th[=u]s), 2, 6, 206, 207, 269, 271, 455; a creator, 8, 10 _n_; champion of man, 10; chained on Mount Caucasus, 11, 225; his secret, 11, 12; quotations from G. C. Lodge, Byron, and Longfellow, 12-15; _C. 10-15_ Propertius (pro-p[~e]r´sh[)i]-us), 457 Pro-s[~e]r´p[)i]-na, Pros´[~e]r-p[)i]ne, P[~e]r-seph´o-n[=e], 20, 43, 44, 234, 318; Swinburne's Garden of Proserpine, 49, 50; attributes, 53; the Roman Libera, 59; P. and Psyche, 134, 135; the rape of, 159, 160; Shelley's Song of Proserpine, 160; Ceres' search for, 160-163; quotation from G. E. Woodberry's Proserpine, 163, 164; mollified by Orpheus, 166; Theseus' attempt to abduct, 220; Æneas, 354; _C. 48, 114-117_ Pro-tes-[)i]-la´us, 282. See _Laodamia_ Proteus (pro´t[=u]s), 56, 58; and Aristæus, 202, 203; _C. 50-52_ and table C; _145_ Psamathe (sam´[.a]-th[=e]), 103 Pseudo-M[=u]-sæ´us, _C. 104_. See _Musæus_ Psyche (si´k[=e]), myth of, 128-139, 457; extracts from William Morris' Earthly Paradise, 131, 135; Bridge's Eros and Psyche, 132; Pater's Marius, 133; T. K. Hervey's Cupid and Psyche, 136, 137; Keats' Psyche, 137-139; _C. 101-102_ Psychopompus (si-ko-pom´pus): Mercury as guide of ghosts to the underworld, 35, 47; _C. 36_ Ptah (p´tä). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Purpose of this work, 1 Py-[.a]-nep´s[)i]-a, _C. 30_ Pygmalion (pig-ma´l[)i]-[)o]n), fabled sculptor, 139; and the statue, 145-147; extracts from Lang's New Pygmalion, 145, 146, 147; from William Morris' Pygmalion and the Image, 146, 147; _C. 105_ Pygmalion (pig-ma´l[)i]-[)o]n), king of Tyre, 351 Pygmies, 221; _C. 156-162_ Pylades (pil´[.a]-d[=e]s), 315, 316; _C. 228-230_ Py´l[)o]s, 150, 225, 285, 452; _C. 109, 156-162_ Pyramus (p[)i]r´[.a]-mus), 139; and Thisbe, 147-149; _C. 106_ Pyriphlegethon (p[)i]r-[)i]-fle[=g]'e-th[)o]n), 327. See _Phlegethon_ Pyrrha (p[)i]r´a) and Deucalion, 16, 207; _C. 19-20_; genealogy, _148_ (5) Pyrrhus (p[)i]r´us), or Ne-op-tol´e-mus, 312, 313; _C. 190-194_ (1). See _Neoptolemus_ Pythagoras (p[)i]-thag´o-r[.a]s), a philosopher of Samos, about 550 B.C.; his doctrine of metempsychosis, 360 and _C. 255-257_ Pythia (pith´[)i]-a), _C. 30, 32_. See _Diana_ Pythian Games, 27; _C. 176-181_ (Textual) Py´th[)o]n, 26, 92; _C. 30, 74_ Pythoness (pith´o-ness), _C. 30_ Qu[)i]-ri´nus, 61 Rä. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) R[.a]g´n[.a]-r[)o]k´, 394 Rakshasas (r[)u]k´sh[.a]-s[.a][s+]). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Râmâyana (rä-mä´y[.a]-n[.a]), 462, 463; compared with Iliad, 463; paraphrase of, _C. 303_ Râvana (rä´v[.a]-n[.a]), 463 Re-[.g]il´lus, 243 Regin (r[=a]'g[)i]n), 400, 401 Reim-thursar (r[=a]m´th[~e]r-sär), Rime or Frost giants. See _Hrim-thursar_ Re´mus, 372 Rerir (r[=a]'r[=e]r), 398 Rhadamanthus (rad-[.a]-man´thus), 51, 53, 216, 357; son of Europa, 71, 246; _C. 255-257_ Rhamnusia (ram-n[=u]´sh[)i]-a): Nemesis, from Rhamnus in Attica, where she was specially worshiped Rhapsodists, the, 452 Rhea (re´a), 4, 5, 19, 44, 152; the Roman Magna Mater, 59; _C. 4, 41, 110-112, 146-147_. See _Cybele_ Rhine, 404-406, 409, 410-430 _passim_ Rhine-daughters, in Wagner's Ring, 410, 411, 416, 427-430 Rhine-gold, Wagner's opera of the, 410-416 Rhodope (rod´o-p[=e]), a mountain range in Thrace, 97; _C. 76_ Rhodope (rod´o-p[=e]), A´c[)o]n and, Landor's poem, _C. 138_ Rh[oe]cus, (re´kus), myth of, 193, 194; extracts from Lowell's Rh[oe]cus, 193, 194; _C. 138_ Rh[oe]tus (re´tus), _C. 8_ Ring of the Nibelung, Wagner's, 410-430 R[)i]´sh[)i][s+], 462 River ocean, 3. See _Ocean_ Rock, the White, 47 Rod´mär, 400, 401 Roman divinities, 2, 3, 59-63 Rome, 365, 366, 372, 448, 456 Rom´[=u]-lus, 60, 372; as Quirinus, 61 Runes, 375, 394, 413, 457, 458; _C. 300_ Russians, 448 Rut´[=u]-l[=i], Rutulians (r[=oo]-t[=oo]'l[)i]-ans), 362, 365-370 Rymer (r[=e]'m[~e]r), 396 S[.a]-bri´na, a nymph in Milton's Comus, 204 Sæmund (s[=a]'m[=oo]nd) the Wise, 459 Sä´g[.a][s+], the, 460; of the Volsungs, 398-405, 460; _C. 282_ Sal´[.a]-mis, 308 Sa´l[)i]-[=i], _C. 28_ Salmoneus (sal-mo´n[=u]s), 357 Sa´m[)o]s, 247; _C. 34_ Sam-o-thra´ç[=e], or Samothracia (sam-o-thra´sh[)i]-a), an island near the coast of Thrace, 242 Samson and Hercules, 440 Sanskrit, studies and translations, _C. 303_ Sappho (saf´o), 149, 453, 454; _C. 107_ Saramâ (s[.a]-r[.a]'mä), _C. 36_ Sarameyas (s[.a]-r[.a]-m[=a]'y[.a]s), _C. 36_ Sarasvati (s[)a]r´[.a]s-w[.a]-t[=e]). See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Sär-pe´d[)o]n, son of Jove and Europa, 71 Sär-pe´d[)o]n, son of Jove and Laodamia, in the Trojan War, 280, 290, 298 Sat´urn (S[.a]-tur´nus), the attempts to identify Cronus and, 59; his rule in Latium, 59, 362, 366; _C. 4, 54_ Sat-ur-na´l[)i]-a, 59 S[.a]-tur´n[)i]-a, 366 Satyrs (s[)a]t´[~e]rs or s[=a]'t[~e]rs), 44, 152, 189, 190, 195, 258; described, 46, 186; extract from R. Buchanan's Satyr, 186, 187; _C. 131_ S[)a]v´[)i]-t[.a]r. See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Sc[.a]-man´d[~e]r, 272 S[-c]he´r[)i]-a, 332 Sch[oe]neus (ske´n[=u]s), 139 Sco´p[)a]s, a Greek sculptor of Paros, first half of the 4th century B.C.; he made the Niobe group; see also _C. 42, 78, 131_ Scylla (sil´a), described, 57, 255; and Glaucus, 200, 201; and Nisus, 201, 202; and Ulysses, 329, 330; and Æneas, 350; _C. 50-52_ and table C; _142, 231-244_ Scyros (si´r[)o]s), 260, 270, 279 Scythia (sith´[)i]-a), 97, 192, 316; _C. 76_ Sea. See _Waters_ Sea-monsters, and Hesione, 170; and Andromeda, 212. See _Waters, Greek gods of_ S[)e]b. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) S[)e]-le´n[=e], 29, 39, 43, 117; and Endymion, 124, 125; _C. 98_. See _Diana_ Sem´e-l[=e], 44, 64, 89, 152; myth of, 71-73, 261, 288; E. R. Sill's poem, Semele, 72, 73; _C. 42, 60_ S[)e]-m[)i]r´[.a]-mis, 147; _C. 106_ S[)e]-mit´ic races, 448 Sem´næ. See _Furies_ Sen´e-ca, 457; references to tragedies of, 215 Se-ra´pis, S[.a]-ra´pis. See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Serimnir (s[=a]-r[=e]m´n[=e]r), 376, 388 S[)e]-ri´phus, 208, 213; _C. 149-154_ Ses´t[)o]s, 142 S[)e]t or Seth (s[)e]t). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Shu (sh[=oo]). See _Egyptian divinities_ (1) Sibyl (sib´il), 352-361; _C. 245-254_ S[)i]-[-c]hæ´us, 351 Sicily, 118, 161, 201, 247, 349, 350, 352 Sicyon (sish´[)i]-[)o]n), or Me-co´n[=e], 10; _C. 10-15_ Siegelind (s[=e][=g]'[~e]-lind), 405; in Wagner's Ring, 416-421 Siegfried (s[=e][=g]'fr[=e]d), 405-409, 420-429; Wagner's opera of, 421-426; _C. 282-283_ Sieglinde (s[=e][=g]'lin-d[~e]), 416-421. See _Siegelind_ Siegmund (s[=e][=g]'mund), 405, 416-421. See _Sigmund_ Siggeir (s[)i][=g]'g[=a]r), 398-400 Sigi (s[=e]'[=g][=e]), 398, 405 S[)i][=g]'mund, 398-401, 405; in Wagner's Ring, 416-421 Signy (s[)i][=g]'n[=e]), 398-400 Siguna (s[=e]-g[=oo]'na), 393 Sigurd (z[=e]'g[)oo]rt), 400-405, 450 _n_; _C. 282, 282-283_. See _Siegfried_ Si-le´n[=i], 44, 186, 258; _C. 113_ Si-le´nus, 152, 157, 185, 186, 187; _C. 113, 131_ Sil-va´nus. See _Sylvanus_ Silver Age, the, 10 Sil´v[)i]-a, 363 Si-mon´[)i]-d[=e][s+] of Çe´[)o]s, 208, 453, 454 Sinfiotli (sin´fy[='o]t-l[=e]), 399, 400 Si´n[)o]n, 311, 312; _C. 223_ Si´rens, described, 57, 205, 232, 233; and Ulysses, 328, 329; _C. 50-52_ and table C; _231-244_ S[)i]r´[)i]-us, 123 S[)i]s´y-phus, 214, 229; betrays Jove, 73; marries Merope, 124; in Tartarus, 166, 200, 358; _C. 118, 255-257_; genealogy, _103_, table G, _148_ (2), (5) Sita (se´ta), 463 Siva (se´va). See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Sk[a:]ldic poetry, Sk[a:]lds, 457, 458 Skidbladnir (skid-bläd´n[=e]r), 394 Skirnir's Journey (sk[)i]r´n[=e]r), 386, 460 Skrymir (skr[=e]'m[=e]r), 380, 381 Skuld (sk[)oo]ld), 374 Sleep (Som´nus, Hyp´nos), 54, 298, 352; cave of, 176; _C. 49, 125_ Sleipnir (sl[=a]p´n[=e]r), 388-391, 401 Smintheus (smin´th[=u]s), Apollo, _C. 30, 89_ Smin´th[)i]-a, _C. 30_ Smyrna (sm[=e]r´na), 452 S[)o]l (He´lios), 61, 63 So´ma. See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Som´nus. See _Sleep_ Soph´o-cl[=e][s+], 455; references to, 47, 215, 227, 228, 261, 266, 267, 268, 308, 309, 315; translations, _C. 298_ So´phr[)o]n, _C. 42_ South American savages, mental state of, 441 Spär´ta (Laç-e-dæ´m[)o]n), 22, 23, 225, 242, 243, 275, 289, 314 Sphinx, 262; _C. 182-189_ Sri (sr[=e]). See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Stars, the, 172, 175; _C. 125_, table H Statius (sta´sh[)i]-us), references to the Thebaid of, 141, 265; to the Silvæ, 196; to the Achilleid, 269, 308; _C. 299_ St[)e]r´o-p[=e], one of the Pleiads St[)e]r´o-p[=e][s+], _C. 4_ Ste-si[-c]h´o-rus, 313, 453 Stheneb[oe]a (sthen-e-be´a), or Sthenob[oe]a, daughter of Iobates, enamored of Bellerophon Sthen´e-lus, 110 Sthe´no, daughter of Phorcys and Ceto; one of the Gorgons Stro´ph[)i]-us, 315 Stry´m[)o]n, 168; _C. 118_ Sturlason, Snorri (sn[)o]r´r[=e] st[=oo]r´l[.a]-sun), connection with the Prose Edda, 459; _C. 268-281_ Stym-pha´l[)i]-an birds, 218; and lake, _C. 156-162_ Styx (st[)i]x), 47, 71, 94, 151, 189, 274, 308, 327; _C. 44-46, 49_ Suadela (sw[.a]-de´la). See _Peitho_ Sun, cattle of the, 328, 330. See _Helios_ and _Sol_ Sun-myth, 432, 435 Surter (s[)oo]r´t[~e]r), 395 Survival, theory of myth, 442 Surya (s[=oo]r´ya). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Svadilfari (swä-dil-f[.a]'r[=e]), 378, 379 Swanhild (sw[)o]n´h[)i]ld), 405 Syl´v[.a]ns, 186 Syl-va´nus, 61, 195 Sym-ple[=g]'[.a]-de[s+], 231; _C. 163-167_ (Interpret.) Syr´inx and Pan, 66, 67; _C. 43, 57_ Syrtis (s[~e]r´tis), 255 Tænarus (ten´[.a]-rus), or Tænarum, 51, 166; _C. 118_ Ta´gus, 97 Ta´lus, 242, 243; _C. 170-171_ Tan´a-is river, 97; _C. 76_ Tan´t[.a]-lus, 77, 99, 166, 275, 358; _C. 78_ and table I; _118, 255-257_ Tär´[-c]h[)o]n, 367 Tärn´helm, 414, 415, 423, 427, 428 Tärn´käp-p[~e], 406 Tarpeian (t[.a]r-pe´y[.a]n) Rock, 366 Tär´t[.a]-rus, 5, 6, 7, 51, 97, 159, 357; name of Pluto, 53; _C. 44-46_ Tau´r[=i], Tau´r[)i]-ans, a people of what is now the Crimea; Iphigenia among the Taurians, 281, 316; _C. 196_ Tau´rus, Mount, 96, 253; _C. 76_ Tel´[.a]-m[)o]n, 75, 222, 225, 237, 239, 276, 280; _C. 190-194_ (1) Te-lem´[.a]-[-c]hus, 279, 314, 328, 339-345; _C. 190-194_ (4), _231-244_ Tel´e-phus, son of Hercules and Au´g[=e]; wounded by Achilles, but cured by the rust of the spear Tel´lus, 59, 233. See _Gæa_ Tem´p[=e], a vale in Thessaly, through which ran the river Peneüs, III, 270; _C. 38_ (4) Ten´e-d[)o]s, 113; _C. 89_ Tereus (te´r[=u]s), 249 T[~e]r´m[)i]-nus, 61 T[~e]r-pan´der, _C. 26_ T[~e]rp-si[-c]h´o-r[=e], the muse of choral dance and song, 37; _C. 38_ (4) T[)e]r´ra. See _Earth_ and _Gæa_ Tethys (te´this), 4, 22, 55, 67, 204; _C. 4_ Teucer (t[=u]´s[~e]r), son of the river-god Scamander and the nymph Idæa; first king of Troy; _C. 190-194_ (5) Teucer (t[=u]´s[~e]r), son of Telamon and Hesione, 276; _C. 190-194_ (1), (5), _207_ Teucri (t[=u]'cr[=i]): the Trojans Th[.a]-las´s[)i]-[)o]s: an epithet applied to Hymen because he brought safely over the sea to their home a shipload of kidnaped Athenian maidens Th[.a]-li´a, one of the Graces, 36 Th[.a]-li´a, the muse of comedy, 37 Tham´y-ris, or Tham´y-r[.a]s, 451 Than´[.a]-t[)o]s, Mors. See _Death_ Th[:a]r-[.g]e´l[)i]-a, _C. 30_ Thau´m[)a]s, father of the Harpies and of Iris, 57; _C. 50-52_, table C The´a, 4; _C. 4_ The-a[.g]'e-ne[s+] of Rhegium (re´ji-um), 439 The´ba-is, an epic by Statius on the Seven against Thebes; Pope's translation, _C. 299_. See _Statius_ Thebes (th[=e]b[s+]), Th[=e]'bæ, in B[oe]otia, 71, 75, 207, 216; founded, 87, 89, _C. 70_; Bacchus at, 153-155; misfortunes of, 261, 262, 265-268; _C. 110-112_ Thebes (th[=e]b[s+]), The´bæ, in Egypt, 20 Thebes (th[=e]b[s+]), the Seven against, 206, 264, 265-268, 453, 455 The´mis, 4; attributes of, 38; _C. 4, 18_ The-oc´r[)i]-tus, 215, 243, 455; selections from translations by Lang of various idyls, 198-200, 222, 223; Lityerses song, 224; _C. 298_. See _Andrew Lang_ and _Calverley_, in Index of Modern Authors Th[~e]r-san´der, 268 Th[~e]r-si´t[=e][s+], 286, 307 Theseus (the´s[=u]s), 17, 168, 206, 220, 231, 235, 237, 239, 243, 246, 263, 275; myth of, 250-260; early adventures, 251, 252; and Ariadne, 252 _et seq._, 270; translation of Catullus, LXIV, by C. M. Gayley, 253-257; later adventures, 258-260; _C. 174, 176-181_ Thes-mo-pho´r[)i]-a, _C. 114-117_ Thes´p[)i]-æ, lion of, 216; _C. 156-162_ Thes´s[.a]-ly, 6, 104, 110, 175, 192, 193, 206, 207, 214, 229, 231, 258, 269 Thes´t[)i]-us, 275; _C. 148_ (3), (5), _168_ Thes´ty-lis, a maid in the pastorals of Theocritus and Virgil The´tis, the Nereïd, 55, 90, 198, 205, 269-272, 277, 279, 285, 299, 300, 304, 308; _C. 10-15, 50-52_, table C, _190-194_ (1) Thialfi (th[+e]-äl´f[=e]), 380, 383, 385 Thi[s+]'b[=e], 147-149; _C. 106_ Th[)o]k, 392 Thôr, 376, 432, 460; deeds of, 378-386, 393-396; recovery of his hammer, 379, 380; visit to Jötunheim, 380-386; as Donner in Wagner's Ring, 412, 415; _C. 268-281_ Thoth (th[)o]th or t[=o]t). See _Egyptian divinities_ (2) Thrace, 24, 218, 231, 249, 347 Three Daughters of King O´Hara; analogy of incident, _C. 101-102, 118, 149-154_ Thrinacia (thr[)i]-na´sh[)i]-a), 328, 330. See _Trinacria_ Thrym (thrüm), 379, 380 Thucydides (th[=u]-sid´[)i]-d[=e][s+]), _C. 61_ Thy-es´t[=e][s+], 275, 314; _C. 190-194_ (2) Thy-i´[.a]-d[=e][s+], _C. 42_. See _Bacchus_ Thy-o´n[=e], _C. 34_ Thyrsis (th[~e]r´sis), an ideal shepherd of Greek pastoral poetry. See _Theocritus, Idyl 1_; _Virgil, Bucolics 7_; and _M. Arnold's elegy_ Thyrsus (th[~e]r´sus), the, 45, 153, 156; _C. 110-112_ Ti´ber, 362, 365 Ti´ber, Father, the river-god, 62, 365 T[)i]-bul´lus, 457; reference to, 200 Time, 3 Tiresias (ti-re´sh[)i]-[)a]s or ti-re´s[)i]-[)a]s), 266, 268, 327, 328, 330, 451; _C. 182-189, 231-244_ Tiryns (ti´rins), a city in Argolis, where Hercules was brought up T[)i]-siph´o-n[=e], 54, 357 Ti´t[.a]ns, 4, 5, 7; war of, 5, 6; in Tartarus, 51, 357; in the Fortunate Isles, 52; _C. 4_ T[)i]-tho´nus, and Aurora, 177, 179; Tennyson's poem, 177-179; family connections, 276, 280; _C. 126-127, 190-194_ (5) Tit´y-rus, an ideal goatherd of Greek and Latin pastorals. See _Theocritus, Idyl 3_, and _Virgil, Bucolics 1_ Tit´y-us, slain by Apollo, 27, 92, 357; _C. 74_ Tmo´lus, Mount, 96, 110, 111; _C. 76_ To´m[=i], 456 Toxeus (tox´[=u]s), 238, 240 Tra´[-c]his, 175 Tragic poets of Greece, 455 Trident, Neptune's, 56, 170 Tr[)i]-na´cr[)i]-a, Thr[)i]-na´cr[)i]-a, Thrinacia (thr[)i]-na´sh[)i]-a): the island of Sicily, having three promontories Trip-tol´e-mus, 161; and the Eleusinian mysteries, 164, 165 Tris´t[)i]-a, Ovid's, 456 Trit-o-[.g]e-ne´a, Tr[)i]-t[=o]'n[)i]-a: an epithet of Minerva (Athene), meaning born near Lake Tritonis, or headborn, or born on the third day Tri´t[)o]n, 56, 58, 204, 350 Tri´t[)o]ns, the, 70 Triv´[)i]-a, Hecate, or Diana of the Crossways, 54 Tr[oe]zen (tre´zen), a city in Argolis, 251; _C. 176-181_ Tro´[)i]-lus, son of Priam, killed by Achilles, 276; _C. 190-194_ (5), _196_ Trojan War, mentioned, 75, 84, 86, 98, 179, 206, 237, 259, 265, 451, 452, 455; houses concerned in, 269-276; origin, 277-279; narrative of, 279-306; fall of Troy, 307-312; survivors of the war, 313-317 Tro-pho´n[)i]-us, oracle of, _C. 30_ Tr[=o]s, son of Erichthonius of Troy, and grandson of Dardanus, _C. 190-194_ (5) Troy, 23, 110, 169, 170, 177, 206, 225; royal family of, 276, _C. 190-194_ (5); the war at, 277-313 and _passim_; _C. 119-120, 195, 228-230_ T[=u]'b[.a]l, 440 Tubal-Cain (t[=u]'b[.a]l-c[=a]n´), 440 Tur´nus, 362-364, 367-372 Twelve Brothers, story of the; analogy of incident, _C. 101-102_ Twilight of the Gods, Wagner's opera of the, 426-430 Ty-a´ne-an, 79; _C. 63_ Ty´[-c]h[=e]. See _Fortuna_ Tydeus (ti´d[=u]s), 84, 265, 280; _C. 168_, table K Tydides (t[)i]-di´d[=e][s+]), _C. 77_. See _Diomede_ Tyndareus (tin-da´re-us), or Tyndarus (tin´d[.a]-rus), 242, 269, 338; family of, 275, _C. 190-194_ (3) Tyndaridæ (tin-d[)a]r´[)i]-d[=e]), Castor and Pollux, 243; _C. 76_ Tyndaris (tin´d[.a]-ris): patronymic of a female descendant of Tyndareus; Helen or Clytemnestra; _C. 77_ Typhoeus (ti-fo´[=u]s), youngest son of Gæa, later identified with Typhon Ty´ph[)o]n, 6, 7, 350; also called the son of Typhoeus and a hurricane; _C. 8_ Tyr (t[=e]r), or Z[)i][=u], 377, 378, 396 Tyrian dye, 82, 111; _C. 75_ Tyrian flowers, 94, 137 Tyrians, of Cadmus, 88; of Dido, 351 Ty´ro, 170 Tyrrheus (t[)i]r´[=u]s), 363 Ulysses ([=u]-lis´[=e][s+]), wanderings of, mentioned, 168, 206, 265; descent of, 275, _C. 190-194_ (4); in Trojan War, 278-314; and Penelope, 279, 338-344; arms of Achilles, 308; U. and Philoctetes, 309; the Palladium, the Wooden Horse, 310, 314; Telemachus, 314, 339-345; wanderings of U. (Odyssey), 318-345; the Lotos-eaters, 318, 319; Tennyson's Lotos-eaters, 319, 320; the Cyclopes, 320-323, 349; Æolus and the bag of winds, 323; the Læstrygonians, 324; the isle of Ææa, Circe, 324-327; Dobson's Prayer of the Swine to Circe, 325, 326; visit to Hades, 327, 328; the Sirens, 328, 329; Scylla and Charybdis, 329, 330; cattle of the Sun, 330; Calypso, 331; the Phæacians, 332-337; Lang's Song of Phæacia, 335, 336; Nausicaa, 332 _et seq._; return to Ithaca, 337; fate of the suitors, 338-344; Tennyson's Ulysses, 344, 345; _C. 231-244_ Underworld (Hades), described, 47-52; the garden of Proserpine, 49, 50; Greek divinities of, 47, 52-54; rivers of, 47; inhabitants of, and communication with them, 51; judges of, 51, 53, 71, 246; myths of greater gods, 159-168; Hercules' visit, 220; Ulysses' visit, 327, 328; Æneas' visit, 353-361; _C. 44-46, 47, 49_. For the Norse Underworld, see _Hel_ [=U]-ra´n[)i]-a, the muse of astronomy, 37, _C. 38_ (4); also the Aphrodite of ideal love, _C. 34_. See _M. Arnold's Urania_ [=U]'r[.a]-nus, Ouranos ([=oo]'r[.a]-n[)o]s), father of Cronus, 4, 5, 6; _C. 4_. See _Heaven_ Urd ([=oo]rd), 374 Ushas ([)oo]´sh[.a]s). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Utgard-Loki ([)oo]t´gärd-lo´k[=e]), 382-386 Väch. See _Hindu divinities_ (1) and (2) Vä´l[.a], _C. 109_ V[.a]-le´r[)i]-us Flac´cus, reference to, 269; _C. 299_ V[)a]l-h[)a]l´la, 374-376, 378, 387-390, 394, 414-419, 426-430 Valkyrias (v[)a]l-k[)i]r´y[.a][s+]), Valkyrs (v[)a]l´-k[~e]r[s+]), or Valkyries. See _Valkyries_ Valkyrie (v[)a]l-k[)i]r´[)i]), Wagner's opera of the, 416-421 Valkyries (v[)a]l-k[)i]r´[)i][s+]), Valkyrs (v[)a]l´-k[~e]r[s+]), or Valkyrias, 376, 388, 393, 402, 415, 418, 420, 421, 432 Vâlmîki (väl-m[=e]'k[=e]), 463 Varuna (v[)a]r´[)oo]-na). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Vayu (vä´y[=oo]). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Ve (v[=a]), 373, 374 Vedas (v[=a]'d[.a][s+]), the, 462 Vedic (v[=a]'dik) religion. See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Ven-[~e]r-a´l[)i]-a, _C. 34_ Ve´nus (Aphrodite), daughter of Dione, 19; wife of Vulcan, 26; foam-born, 31; attributes, 31-34; her various influence, 31, 32; favorite animals and cities, 32; artistic conceptions of, 32; E. R. Sill's poem, The Venus of Milo, 32-34; attendants of, 35, 36; star of, 40; among the Romans, 59; Cypris, 68, 69, and _ad loc._; mother of Harmonia, 71, 89; myths of, 125-150; love for Mars, and Anchises, 125, 280; Adonis, 126-128; Lang's translation of Bion's Lament for Adonis, 126-128; Cupid and Psyche, 128-139; Atalanta and Hippomenes, 139-141; Hero and Leander, 141-145; Pygmalion and Galatea, 145-147; Pyramus and Thisbe, 147-149; Phaon, 149; her vengeance, 150; Pluto and Proserpine, 159; Paris, 278, 279; in Trojan War, 284, 289, 295, 313; Æneas, 346, 352, 354, 372; as a moon-goddess, 432; _C. 34, 35, 100-106_ Verdandi (v[)e]r-dän´d[=e]), 374 Vergelmir (v[)e]r-g[)e]l´m[=e]r), 373 V[~e]r-tum´nus, 61, 195; _C. 139_ Ves´per, 138 Ves´ta (Hestia), 5, 19, 35, 59; _C. 37_ Vestal Virgins, 35 Victoria (Ni´ke), 41 Vidar (v[=e]'där), 376, 395, 396 Vigrid (v[=e][=g]'r[=e]d), 395 Vili (v[=e]'l[=e]), 373, 374 V[)i]n´g[)o]lf, 374 Vir´gil (V[~e]r-[.g]il´[)i]-us), account of, and of the Æneid, 456; references to Georgics, 141, 202; to Æneid, 47, 51, 246, 308, 310-312, 349-353, 367, 370; to Bucolics, 223; outline of Æneid, 346-372; Tennyson's poem to Virgil, 346; the Æneid, _C. 245-260_; translations, 299 Vishnu (vish´n[=oo]). See _Hindu divinities_ (2) Vitharr (v[=e]'thär). See _Vidar_ Void, 4 Volscens (v[)o]l´sen[s+]), 369, 370 Volsung (v[)o]l´s[)oo]ng), Volsungs, the saga of, 398-405, 460; in the Ring of the Nibelung, 416, 418-430; _C. 282_ Volsunga Saga (v[~e]l-s[)oo]n´[=g]ä sä´gä). See _Volsung_ Vr[)i]t´ra. See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Vul´c[.a]n (Vul-ca´nus, Hephæstus), one of the great gods, 19; meaning of name, 24; attributes, 24-26; his lameness, 25, 90; his wife, 26, 61; among the Romans, Mulciber, 59; Harmonia's necklace made by, 89, 265; myths of, 90, 91; chariot of the Sun made by, 95; V. and Orion, 122; Talus, 242; father of Periphetes, 251; Ariadne, 253; armor of Achilles, 300; of Æneas, 372; interpretations of, 434, 440; _C. 29_ Vyâsa (vyä´s[.a]), 463 Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung, 410-430 Wälse (v[=á]l´s[~e]), 416, 418 Wälsungs (v[=á]l´s[)oo]ng[s+]), 416. See _Volsung_ Waltraute (väl´trou-t[~e]), 427, 428 Water-Nymphs, 46, 58, 189, 211 Waters, Greek gods of, 55-58; older dynasty, 55; younger dynasty, 55, 56; lesser divinities, 56-58; Wordsworth's "The world is too much with us," 58; myths of Neptune, 169-171; of lesser divinities, 198-205; _C. 141_ Winds, the, Greek names and attributes of, 38, 39; myths of, 172, 179; _C. 38_ (9), _125_, table H Wo´d[.a]n, Wo´t[.a]n, Wo´den, 375, 412-430. See _Odin_ Woman, origin of, Greek, 11 Wooden Horse, the, 310-312, 337 World, conception of, among the Greeks, 42, 43 World egg, 3 Worms, 407, 409 Wo´t[.a]n. See _Wodan_ Xanten (zän´ten), 405, 406 Xanthus (zan´thus) river, 91, 97; _C. 71, 76_ Xuthus (z[=u]'thus), son of Hellen, 16; genealogy, _C. 103_, table G; _132_ (2), (5), _174_ Yam´a and Yami (yam´[=e]). See _Hindu divinities_ (1) Yggdrasil ([)i][=g]'dr[.a]-sil), 374 Ymir (ü´m[=e]r or [=e]'m[=e]r), 373, 374, 394 Yssel-land ([)i]s´el), 406 Zan´t[=e], 153 Zeph´y-rus, 38, 39, 270; and Hyacinthus, 94; Zephyr and Psyche, 129-132; _C. 38_ (9) Ze´t[=e][s+], 39, 230 Ze´thus, 75; _C. 62_ Zeus (z[=u]s). See _Jupiter_ Zeuxis (z[=u]x´is), a Greek painter of Heraclea; flourished about 424 B.C. Z[)i][=u] or Tyr (t[=e]r). See _Tyr_ Zodiac, _C. 156-162_ (Interpret.) Zo-ro-as´t[~e]r, 463 Zulus, myths among, 448 INDEX OF MODERN AUTHORS AND ARTISTS [Ordinary figures refer to pages of the Text. Figures in italics preceded by _C._ refer to sections of the Commentary and incidentally to the corresponding sections in the Text. For explanation of the diacritical marks see p. 543.] Acland, H. W. _C. 228-230_, Plains of Troy Addison, Joseph, 1672-1719. _C. 255-257_ Spectator, No. 343; _299_, transl. Metamorphoses Akenside (a´ken-s[=i]d), Mark, 1721-1770. _C. 38_ (4), (9), _128, 129-130_, Pleasures of Imagination; _C. 38_ (4), (11), Ode on Lyric Poetry, Ode to Hesper; _49_, Ode to Sleep Albani (äl-bä´n[=e]), Francesco, 1578-1660 (paint.). _C. 36_, Mercury and Apollo; _95_, Diana and her Nymphs, Actæon (two pictures, Dresden); _141_, Galatea and Cupids Aldrich, T. B., 1836-1907. _C. 195_, Pillared Arch and Sculptured Tower Alfieri (äl-fy[=a]'r[=e]), Vittorio, 1749-1803. _C. 169_, Merope Anderson, R. B. _C. 268-281_, Norse Mythology; Horn's Scandinavian Literature; Younger Edda Armstrong, John, 1709-1779. _C. 30, 50-52, 68, 149-154_, The Art of Preserving Health Armstrong, W. J. _C. 228-230_, Over Ilium and Ida Arnold, Sir Edwin, 1832-1904. Reference to, 126; _C. 303_, Indian Idylls, Light of Asia; _32_, Hymn of the Priestess of Diana; _104_, transl. Musæus; _196_, Iphigenia Arnold, M., 1822-1888. Quotation from Thyrsis, 224, 225; from Dejaneira, 228; his Merope, 242; from The New Philomela, 250; from Empedocles on Etna, 274; from Balder Dead, 388-397; _C. 8, 87_, Empedocles; _38_ (3), (4), Euphrosyne, Urania; _42_, Bacchanalia; _50-52_, The New Sirens; _156-162_, Fragment of a Dejaneira, Merope, Thyrsis; _174_, The New Philomela; _182-189_, Fragment of an Antigone; _231-244_, The Strayed Reveller; _268-281_, Balder Dead Ashe, Thomas, 1836-1889. _C. 38_ (1), The Lost Eros Bacon, Lord, 1561-1626. Wisdom of the Ancients; his method of explaining Greek Myths, 439, _C. 114-117_ Baldwin, James. _C. 282_, The Story of Siegfried, New York, 1888 Bandinelli (bän-d[='e]-nel´l[=e]), B., 1487-1559 (sculpt.). _C. 156-162_, Hercules and Cacus Banks, J. Transl. Hesiod, Callimachus, and Theognis (Bohn's Library) Barnfield, Richard, 1574-1627. _C. 174_, Song, "As it fell upon a day" (Philomela) Bartsch (bärtsh), K. F. Der Nibelunge Nôt, 461 _n_; _C. 283_ Bates, H. (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Psyche Baumeister (bou´m[=i]-st[~e]r). Denkmäler d. klassischen Altertums; see _List of Illustrations_ Beattie (b[=e]'t[)i]), James, 1735-1803. _C. 156-162_, Battle of Pygmies and Cranes; _195_, Judgment of Paris Beaumont (bo´m[)o]nt), Francis, 1584-1616, and John Fletcher, 1579-1625. _C. 38_ (1), Cupid's Revenge; _50-52, 176-181_, Maid's Tragedy Beddoes (bed´[=o]z), Thomas Lovell, 1803-1849. _C. 105_, Pygmalion; _114-117_, Stygian Naiades Benfey (ben´f[=i]) and Cosquin (co-k[)a]n´). Cited by Lang, 447 _n_ Bennett, W. C., 1820 ----. _C. 105_, Pygmalion Bernini (b[)e]r-n[=e]'n[=e]), Lorenzo, 1598-1680 (sculpt). _C. 48, 114-117_, Pluto and Proserpine; _89_, Apollo and Daphne Beyschlag (b[=i]´shlä[.c]h), J. R., 1838 ---- (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Psyche; _118_, Orpheus and Eurydice Birch, R., _C. 302_, Guide to Egyptian Rooms Blackie, J. S., 1809-1895. _C. 141_, Galatea; _176-181_, Ariadne, The Naming of Athens; _195_, Judgment of Paris; _196, 298_, transl. Æschylus Blake, William, 1757-1827. To the Muses, iii Bland and Merivale. _C. 298_, transl. Greek Anthology Bodenhausen (bo´den-hou´zen), C. von (paint.). _C. 104_, Hero and Leander Bodmer, J. J. Referred to, 461; publ. Nibelungenlied, _C. 283_ Bologna (b[=ó]-l[=o]n´yä), Giovanni di, 1524-1608 (sculpt.). _C. 36_, Flying Mercury; _156-162_, Hercules and Centaur Bordone (b[=ó]r-d[=o]'n[=a]), Paris, 1500-1571 (paint.). _C. 87_, Apollo, Marsyas, and Midas Bouguereau (b[=oo]-[=g][~e]-ro´), A. W., 1825-1905 (paint.). _C. 35_, Birth of Venus; _38_ (1), Cupid and a Butterfly; _42_, Youth of Bacchus; _131_, Nymphs and Satyr Bowring, E. A. _C. 22_, transl. Schiller; _38_ (2), Goethe's Ganymede; _60_, Schiller's Semele; _140_, Schiller's Cranes of Ibycus; _155_, Schiller's Pegasus in Harness Brandi (brän´d[=e]), Giacinto, 1623-1691 (paint.). _C. 173_, Dædalus fastening Wings on Icarus (Dresden) Bridges, Robert, 1844 ----. Extract from Eros and Psyche, 132; _C. 10-15_, Prometheus; _42_, Feast of Bacchus; _101_, Eros and Psyche; _199_, Achilles in Scyros; _231-244_, Return of Ulysses Brooks, C. T., 1813-1883. _C. 207_, Schiller's Parting of Hector and Andromache Browning, E. B., 1806-1861. Reference to, 126; extract from The Dead Pan, 183; _C. 10-15_, Prometheus Bound; _101-102_, Psyche; _131_, Flush, or Faunus; _141_, transl. Theocritus; _176-181_, paraphrases of Nonnus and Hesiod; _207_, paraphrase of Homer Browning, R., 1812-1889. Passage from his Balaustion's Adventure, 107-110; _C. 81_, Apollo and the Fates; _83, 156-162_, Balaustion's Adventure; _118_, Eurydice and Orpheus; _129-130_, Pan and Luna; _156-162_, Aristophanes' Apology; _176-181_, Artemis Prologizes; _196_, Agamemnon; _255-257_, Ixion Bryant, Jacob. Advocate of _theological_ interpretation, 440 Bryant, W. C., 1794-1878. _C. 149-154_, transl. Simonides' Lament of Danaë; _C. 231-244_, transl. Odyssey (1871) Buchanan, R., 1841-1901. Cited or quoted: from his Satyr, 186, 187; from his Naiad, 189-191; _C. 4_, Cloudland; _47_, Ades, King of Hell; _50-52_, Naiad; _98_, Selene, the Moon; _105_, Pygmalion the Sculptor; _107_, Sappho on the Leucadian Rock; _118_, Orpheus; _129-130_, Pan; _141_, Polypheme's Passion; _145_, Proteus; _231-244_, Cloudland, Penelope; _268-281_, Balder the Beautiful Buckley, T. A. _C. 298_, transl. Æschylus and Euripides Bugge (b[)oo]g´[~e]), Sophus. _C. 268-281_, edition of Elder Edda Bulfinch, S. G., 1809-1870. Extract from his translation of Schiller's Ideal and Life, 227, 228 Bulfinch, Thomas, 1796-1867. The Age of Fable; see Preface to this volume Burges (b[~e]r´j[)e]s), G. _C. 298_, transl. Greek Anthology Burne-Jones, Sir Edward, 1833-1898 (paint.). His Thisbe, 148; _C. 38_ (1), Cupid; _101-102_, Pan and Psyche; _105_, Pygmalion; _106_, Cupid, Pyramus, Thisbe; _118_, Orpheus and Eurydice; _131_, Nymphs; _149-154_, Perseus and the Graiæ; _199_, Feast of Peleus; _231-244_, The Wine of Circe Burns, R., 1759-1796. _C. 30_, The Winter Night; _155_, To John Taylor Butcher, S. H., and A. Lang. _C. 231-244, 298_, transl. Odyssey Butler, Samuel, 1612-1680. _C. 32_, Hudibras Byron, George Gordon, Lord, 1788-1824. Quoted or referred to, 452; Prometheus, 13; Age of Bronze, 15; Childe Harold, 311; _C. 10-15_, Prometheus, Ode to Napoleon; _32, 70_, Don Juan; _104, 228-230_, Bride of Abydos; _27, 30, 34, 35, 38_ (4), _41, 54, 78, 97, 228-230, 231-244_, references to Childe Harold Call, W. M. W., 1817-1890. _C. 81_, Admetus; _83_, Alcestis; _176-181_, Ariadne; _268-281_, Balder, Thor Calverley, C. S. (Blayds), 1831-1884. _C. 100_, Death of Adonis; _110-112, 141, 156-162, 170-171, 298_, transl. Theocritus; _299_, transl. Horace Campbell, Lewis, 1830-1908. _C. 298_, transl. Sophocles Campbell, Thomas, 1777-1844. _C. 38_ (11), Two Songs to the Evening Star; _163-167_, transl. of part of Euripides' Medea Canova (cä-nô´vä), Antonio, 1757-1822 (sculpt.). _C. 35_, Venus Victrix; _38_ (3), Graces; _101-102_, Cupid and Psyche; _149-154_, Perseus; _173_, Dædalus and Icarus; _176-181_, Theseus; _195_, Paris; _204_, Ajax; _207_, Hector Carlisle, Lord, 1802-1864. _C. 231-244_, Diary, note on Corfu and the Phæacians Carlyle, Thomas, 1795-1881. Transl. of fragments of Nibelungenlied, 409; _C. 283_ Carracci (cär-rät´ch[=e]), Annibale, 1560-1609 (paint.). _C. 24-25_, Jupiter and Juno Carracci (cär-rät´ch[=e]), Lodovico, 1555-1619, and Annibale (paint.). _C. 98_, Diana and Endymion; _141_, Polyphemus, Galatea, Acis Cellini (chel-l[=e]'n[=e]), Benvenuto, 1500-1571 (sculpt.). _C. 24-25_, Jupiter; _27_, Minerva; _35_, Venus; _36_, Mercury; _149-154_, Perseus, Perseus saving Andromeda Ç[~e]r-van´t[=e][s+], Miguel de, 1547-1616. Reference to, 14; _C. 16_ Chapman, G., 1559-1634. _C. 231-244, 298_, transl. Iliad and Odyssey; _104_, Marlowe's Hero and Leander; Sonnet on Chapman's Homer, see _Keats_ Chaucer, Geoffrey, 1340 (or 1328)-1400. References in _C._: The Former Age, _10-15_; The Knight's Tale, _34, 95, 176-181_; The Hous of Fame, _38_ (2), (9), _75, 173, 176-181, 199, 245-254_; The Legende of Good Women, _83, 106, 149-154, 163-167, 174, 176-181, 245-254_; The Complaint of Mars, _34, 83_; The Complaint of Venus, _34_; The Dethe of Blaunche, _125, 199, 226_; The Court of Love (?), _34, 83_; The Cuckow and Nightingale, or Boke of Cupid (?), _38_ (1); The Romaunt of the Rose (?), _132-133_; Troilus and Criseyde, _196, 226_ Church, F. S. _C. 10-15_, Pandora Clapp, E. B. Greek Morality, etc., 455 _n_ Clarke, J. F. _C. 303, 304_, Ten Great Religions Cleasby and Vigfusson (vig´f[=oo]-sun). Icelandic-English Dictionary, 458 _n_; _C. 300_ Clough, A. H., 1819-1861. _C. 95_, Actæon; _98_, Epi Latmo, Selene Coleridge, Hartley, 1796-1849. _C. 10-15_, Prometheus; _195_, Sonnet on Homer Coleridge, S. T., 1772-1834. _C. 93_, Kubla Khan Collins, Mortimer, 1827-1876. _C. 49_, The Ivory Gate Collins, William, 1721-1759. _C. 131, 132-133_, The Passions Collins, W. L. _C. 298, 299_, Ancient Classics for English Readers Colvin, S., 1845 ----. _C. 40_, A Greek Hymn Conington, J., 1825-1869. _C. 299_, transl. Æneid, Horace's Odes, etc. Correggio (c[=ó]r-red´jo), A. A., 1494-1534 (paint.). _C. 32_, Diana; _57_, Jupiter and Io; _62_, Antiope; _149-154_, Danaë Cottle, A. S. _C. 268-281_, Icelandic Poetry Cowper, William, 1731-1800. Transl. Homer, 18, 299, 331, 340, 341; _C. 30_, Yardley Oak; _44-46, 231-244, 255-257_, Progress of Error; _131-132_, On an Ugly Fellow; _145_, The Task; _298_, transl. Homer Cox, the Rev. Sir G. W., 437 _n_, 448 _n_; _C. 57, 59, 70, 72-73, 74, 76, 78, 95, 101-102, 109, 118, 141, 156-162, 172_ Crabbe, George, 1754-1832. _C. 38_ (4), Village, Parish Register, Newspaper, Birth of Flattery (Invocations of the Muse); _204_, Village Crane, Oliver. _C. 299_, transl. Æneid Creuzer (croi´ts[~e]r), Professor, and the _allegorical_ interpretation, 439 Curtin, Jeremiah. _C. 118, 149-154_, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland Curzon (cür-zôn´), A. de (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Psyche Dale, Thos. _C. 298_, transl. Sophocles Daniel, Samuel, 1562-1619. _C. 231-244_, Dialogue of Ulysses and the Siren Dannecker (dän´ek-[~e]r), J. H. von, 1758-1841 (sculpt.). _C. 176-181_, Ariadne Dante (dan´t[='e]) Alighieri, 1265-1321. Reference to, 14; _C. 16_ Darwin, Erasmus, 1731-1802. Extract from his Botanic Garden, 180, 247 Da´sent, Sir G. W., 1820-1896. _C. 268-281_, Popular Tales from the Norse David (dà-v[=e]d´), J. L., 1748-1825 (paint.). _C. 195_, Paris and Helen Dekker, Thomas, 1570-1641. _C. 30_, The Sun's Darling Derby, the Earl of. Transl. Homer, 21; _C. 298_ Dippold, G. T. _C. 301_, Great Epics of Mediæval Germany Dixon, R. W., 1833-1901. _C. 30_, Apollo Pythius Dobell (d[=o]-bel´), Sydney, 1824-1874. _C. 268-281_, Balder Dobson, Austin, 1840 ----. Procris, 174, 175; extract from Prayer of the Swine to Circe, 325, 326; _C. 123-124_, Procris; _141_, Polypheme Domenichino (d[='o]-m[=a]-n[='e]-k[=e]'n[=o]), Z., 1581-1641 (paint.). _C. 32_, Diana's Chase; _245-254_, Cumæan Sibyl Dosso Dossi (dôs´s[=o] dôs´s[=e]) (Giovanni di Lutero), 1479-1542 (paint.). _C. 98_, Diana and Endymion (Dresden) Dowden, E., 1843 ----. _C. 59_, Europa; _118_, Eurydice; _149-154_, Andromeda Doyle, Sir Francis Hastings, 1810-1888. _C. 182-189_, transl. [OE]dipus Tyrannus Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. _C. 30_, Song 8 (on Apollo); _38_ (2), Ganymede Drummond, William, of Hawthornden, 1585-1649. _C. 30_, Song to Ph[oe]bus; _38_ (2), Ganymede; _50-52_, "Nymphs, sister nymphs," etc.; _100_, Statue of Adonis; _128_, Summons to Love; _149-154_, Statue of Medusa Dryden, J., 1631-1700. Extract from Alexander's Feast, 45; _C. 298_, transl. Metamorphoses and the Æneis; _49_, Alexander's Feast; _54_, Epistle to Congreve; _85-86_, Chaucer's Wife of Bath's Tale; _131_, To Mrs. Anne Killigrew; _196_, Cymon and Iphigenia; _255-257_, St. Cecilia's Day Dyer, John, 1700(?)-1758. Extracts from The Fleece, 230, 231, 314 Dyer, Louis, 1851 ----. Studies of the Gods in Greece, 446 _n_ Edwards, Miss A. B. _C. 302_, A Thousand Miles up the Nile Eliot, George (Mary Ann Cross), 1819-1880. _C. 298_, Arion Elliot, Lady Charlotte. _C. 149-154_, Medusa, 1878 Ellis, Robinson. _C. 299_, transl. Catullus Ely, Talfourd. Olympus, 446 _n_ Emerson, R. W., 1803-1882. _C. 18_, Astræa; _182-189_, The Sphinx Fawcett, Edgar, 1847-1904. _C. 231-244_, Calypso Fawkes, Francis, 1721-1777. _C. 107_, transl. Sappho Fénelon (f[=a]-n´-lôn´), François de la Mothe, 1651-1715. _C. 231-244_, Télémaque Field, Michael. Callirrhoë, 1884 Fields, A. _C. 91_, Clytia Fiske, John, 1842-1901. Citation from Myths and Myth-Makers, 432 FitzGerald, Edward, 1809-1883. _C. 182-189_, The Downfall and Death of King [OE]dipus; _196_, Agamemnon Fitzgerald, M. P. _C. 176-181_, The Crowned Hippolytus Flaxman, John, 1755-1826. _C. 199, 204, 207, 231-244_, Sketches Fletcher, John, 1579-1625 (see _Beaumont_). _C. 38_ (1), A Wife for a Month; _42_, "God Lyæus" (from Valentinian); _58_, "Hear ye ladies" (Valentinian); _50-52, 176-181_, The Maid's Tragedy; _98_, The Faithful Shepherdess; _129-130_, Song of Priest of Pan; Song to Pan (Faithful Shepherdess); _176-181_, The Two Noble Kinsmen Forestier, Auber (pseudonym for Annie A. Moore). _C. 283_, Echoes from Mist Land Forster, F. _C. 123-124_, Procris and Cephalus Foster-Barham, A. G. _C. 283_, transl. Nibelungenlied Franceschini (frän-ches-k[=e]'n[=e]), M. A., 1648-1729 (paint.). _C. 100_, Birth of Adonis (Dresden) Francklin, Thomas. _C. 298_, transl. Sophocles Frere (fr[=e]r), J. Hookham, 1769-1846. _C. 149-154_, transl. Simonides' Lament of Danaë; _156-162_, transl. Euripides' Hercules Furens Frothingham, N. L. _C. 114-117_, transl. Schiller's Festival of Eleusis; _224_, transl. Lessing's Laocoön Fuller, S. Margaret, 1810-1850. _C. 38_ (2), Ganymede to his Eagle. Garnett, Richard, 1835-1906. _C. 57_, Io in Egypt; _196_, Iphigenia in Delphi Garrick, David, 1717-1779. _C. 65-66_, Upon a Lady's Embroidery Gay, John, 1685-1732. _C. 141_, Polypheme's Song (Acis and Galatea) Gayley, C. M. Extracts from translation of Schiller's Gods of Greece, 182; from hexameter translation of Catullus' Peleus and Thetis, 253-258, 269-273 Gérard (zh[=a]-r[.a]r´), François, 1770-1837 (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Cupid and Psyche Giordano (j[='o]r-dä´n[=o]), Luca, 1632-1705 (paint.). _C. 149-154_, Perseus and Phineus; _156-162_, Hercules and Omphale; _176-181_, Bacchantes and Ariadne (Dresden) Giorgione (j[='o]r-j[=o]'n[=a]) (Giorgio Barbarelli), 1477-1511 (paint.). _C. 131_, Nymphs and Satyr; _195_, The Judgment of Paris (Dresden) Gladstone, W. E., 1809-1898. Translation from Iliad, 285. Works referred to or cited, 440 _n_; his theory of myths, 440; _C. 23_, on the number of the Olympians, and on the Olympian religion; _77_, on the Chryseïs incident Gleyre (glêr), Charles G., 1807-1874 (paint.). _C. 42_, Dance of the Bacchantes; _156-162_, Hercules at the feet of Omphale Goethe (g[~e]'t[~e]), J. W. von, 1749-1832. _C. 196_, Iphigenia in Tauris; see also under _Bowring_ and _Martin_ Goldsmith, Oliver, 1728-1774. _C. 132-133_, on a beautiful youth struck by blindness (Narcissus) Gosse, E. W., 1849 ----. Quoted: Eros, 36; from the Sons of Cydippe, 81; from the Praise of Dionysus, 156, 157; _C. 22_, Greece and England; _32_, The Praise of Artemis; _64_, Sons of Cydippe; _118_, The Waking of Eurydice; _125_, Alcyone (a sonnet in dialogue); _156-162_, Gifts of the Muses; _255-257_, Island of the Blest Gray, Thomas, 1716-1771. The Fatal Sisters referred to, 376; _C. 4_, _36_, _38_ (4), _40_, Progress of Poesy; _149-154_, Hymn to Adversity; _268-281_, Ode on the Descent of Odin, Ode on the Fatal Sisters Greene, Robert, 1560-1592. _C. 56_, Arraignment of Paris Greenwell, Dora, 1821-1882. _C. 114-117_, Demeter and Cora; _282_, Battle-Flag of Sigurd Grimm, Jakob Ludwig, 1785-1863, and Wilhelm Karl, 1786-1859. Theory of distribution of myth, 448; derivation of word Edda, 458 _n_; _C. 101-102_, The Twelve Brothers; _301_, Deutsche Mythologie Guercino (gw[)e]r-ch[=e]'n[=o]), Francesco, 1590-1666 (paint.). _C. 98_, Sleeping Endymion; _100_, Three Pictures of Adonis (Dresden); _123-124_, Aurora Guérin (g[=a]-r[)a]n´), Pierre Narcisse, 1774-1833 (paint.). _C. 123-124_, L´Aurore et Céphale; _245-254_, Æneas at the Court of Dido Hahn (hän), Werner. Modern German edition of Nibelungenlied, 407, 460 _n_, 461 _n_; _C. 283_ Hake, Thomas Gordon, 1809-1895. _C. 34_, The Birth of Venus; _149-154_, The Infant Medusa Hallam, Arthur Henry, 1811-1833. _C. 105_, Pygmalion Hamon ([.a]-môn´), J. L., 1821-1874 (paint.). _C. 123-124_, Aurora Haug (hou[.c]h), M. _C. 304_, Sacred Language and Literature of the Parsis Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 1804-1864. _C. 54, 131_, The Marble Faun Head, Guy, d. 1801 (paint.). _C. 38_ (12), Iris Hem´[.a]n[s+], Felicia D., 1793-1835. _C. 83_, Alfieri's Alcestis, Death Song of Alcestis; _97_, Pleiads; _176-181_, Shade of Theseus Herrick, R., 1591-1674. _C. 38_ (1), The Cheat of Cupid, or The Ungentle Guest Hervey, Thomas Kibble, 1799-1859. Poem on Cupid and Psyche, 136, 137 Hoffmann (h[='o]f´män), J. (paint.). _C. 283_, Illustrations of the Ring of the Nibelungen Holmes, O. W., 1809-1894. _C. 98, 231-244_, Metrical Essays Hood, Thomas, 1798-1845. _C. 30_, To the Sun; _32_, To the Moon; _91_, Flowers; _104_, Hero and Leander; _114-117_, Ode to Melancholy; _231-244_, Lycus the Centaur Horn, F. W. Geschichte d. Literatur d. Skandinavischen Nordens, 458 _n_, 460 _n_ Horne, Richard Henry (Hengist), 1803-1884. _C. 10-15_, Prometheus, the Fire-bringer; _96_, Orion Hübner (hüp´n[~e]r), E., 1842 ---- (paint.). _C. 196_, Iphigenia Hunt, Leigh, 1784-1859. _C. 104_, Hero and Leander Ingelow, Jean, 1820-1897. _C. 48_, Persephone Ingres (an´gr'), J. A. D., 1780-1867 (paint.). _C. 182-189_, [OE]dipus and the Sphinx Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1831-1885. _C. 40_, Demeter; _176-181_, Ariadne's Farewell Jameson, Frederick. Translation of Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung, 411-430; _C. 284-288_ Jebb, R.C., 1841-1905. _C. 228-230_, articles on Troy Johnson, Biorn, of Scardsa, 1575-1656. On the Elder Edda, 459 Johnson, Francis, d. 1876. _C. 304_, Oriental Religions Johnson, Samuel, 1709-1784. Definition of Fable, 1 Johnsson (y[)o]ns´sun), Arngrim, 1568-1648. On the authorship of the Younger Edda, 459 Johnston, T. C. Did the Ph[oe]nicians discover America? 449 _n_ Jones, Sir William, 1746-1794. _C. 303_, transl. Sakuntala Jonson, B., 1574-1637. Hymn to Cynthia, 31; _C. 4_, Neptune's Triumph; _129-130_, Pan's Anniversary; _42_, Dedication of the King's new cellar to Bacchus Jonsson (y[)o]ns´sun), Thorleif. _C. 268-281_, edition of the Younger Edda Jordaens (yôr´däns), Jakob, 1593-1678 (paint.). _C. 110-112_, Silenus and Bacchante; _176-181_, Ariadne, Fauns, etc. (Dresden) Jordan (y[='o]r´dän), W. _C. 283_, Studies and Recitations of the Nibelunge Kaulbach (koul´bä[.c]h), W., 1805-1874 (paint.). _C. 196_, Iphigenia Keats, John, 1795-1821. Quotation from "I stood tiptoe upon a little hill," 67; from Endymion, Bk. 3, 125, 200, 201; Ode to Psyche, 137-139; Picture of Leander, 145; Sonnet on Chapman's Homer, 283; _C. 4, 54_, Hyperion; _30_, Hymn to Apollo; _32, 131_, To Psyche; _38_ (4), On a Grecian Urn; _42, 131, 155_, To a Nightingale; _48_, Melancholy; _75, 93, 98, 142, 231-244_, Endymion; _109_, Ode to Maia Keller, F., 1842 ---- (paint.). _C. 104_, Hero and Leander King, Ed. _C. 299_, transl. Metamorphoses Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875. Extract from the Andromeda, 212; _C. 107_, Sappho; _282_, Longbeard's Saga Knight, Payne, 1750-1824. Symbolical Language of Ancient Art, 444 _n_ Kray (kr[=i]), W. (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Psyche and Zephyr Kürenberg, von (f[='o]n kü´ren-b[)e]rG), and the Nibelungenlied, 461 Kyd (kid), Thomas, end of the sixteenth century. _C. 47, 61_, Spanish Tragedy Lachmann (lä[.c]h´män), K. K., 1793-1851. Theory of Nibelungenlied, 461; _C. 283_, Nibelunge Nôt La Fontaine (l[.a] fôn-ten´), Jean de, 1621-1695. Mentioned, 2 Landor, W. S., 1775-1864. Quotations from the Niobe, 102, 103; Hippomenes and Atalanta, 140, 141; from Orpheus and Eurydice (Dry Sticks), 167, 168; _C. 26_, Hymn of Terpander to Juno; _42_, Sophron's Hymn to Bacchus; _50-52, 176-181_, To Joseph Ablett; _59_, Europa and her Mother; _76, 123-124_, Gebir; _78_, Niobe; _83_, Hercules, Pluto, Alcestis, etc.; _107_, Sappho, Alcæus, etc.; _110-112_, Last Fruit of an Old Tree; _113_, Silenus; _128_, Sonnet on Genius; _129-130_, Pan and Pitys, Cupid and Pan; _137_, Dryope; _138_, The Hamadryad, Acon and Rhodope; _170-171_, Loss of Memory; _176-181_, Theseus and Hippolyta; _195_, Menelaüs and Helen; _196_, Iphigenia and Agamemnon; _199_, Peleus and Thetis; _219-220_, The Espousals of Polyxena; _221_, Corythos, Death of Paris and [OE]none; _228-230_, Death of Clytemnestra; _231-244_, The Last of Ulysses, Penelope Lang, Andrew, 1844 ----. Quotation from The Fortunate Isles, 52; from The New Pygmalion, 145, 146, 147; Sonnet on the Odyssey, 318; A Song of Phæacia, 335, 336; transl. from Moschus, 68-70, 189; transls. from Iliad (w. Leaf and Myers), and from Odyssey (w. Butcher), see below; from Bion, 126-128; from Theocritus, 198-200, 222, 223, 224; Myth, Ritual, and Religion, and article on Mythology in Encyc. Brit, cited or referred to, Preface, 438 _n_, 440 _n_, 441 _n_, 447 _n_, 448, 449, and _C. 5, 30, 32, 58, 60, 61, 74, 89, 110-112, 114-117_. Transls. of Theocritus, Bion, and Moschus referred to, _C. 38_ (1), _110-112, 156-162, 195, 298_. Poems referred to: _C. 32_, To Artemis; _50-52_, Sirens; _195, 221_, Helen of Troy; _195_, Sonnet on Iliad Lang, Andrew (Leaf and Myers). Transl. Iliad, 84-87, 104, 291, 292; _C. 298_ Lang, Andrew (Butcher and). Transl. Odyssey, 35, 327, 328; _C. 231-244_, _298_ Larned, Augusta. _C. 268-281_, Tales from the Norse Grandmother Lathrop, G. P., 1851-1898. _C. 195_, Helen at the Loom Lawton, W. C. _C. 163-167_, transl. Euripides Lazarus, Emma, 1849-1887. _C. 81_, Admetus Lee-Hamilton, E., 1845 ----. _C. 87_, Apollo and Marsyas; _149-154_, The New Medusa Lefebvre (l[~e]-fev´r'), Jules (paint.). _C. 32_, Diana and her Nymphs Leighton, Frederick, Lord, 1830-1896 (paint.). _C. 48_, The Garden of Proserpine; _83_, Hercules wrestling with Death for the Body of Alcestis; _101-102_, The Bath of Psyche; _114-117_, The Return of Proserpine; _118_, Orpheus and Eurydice; _149-154_, Perseus and Andromeda; _195_, Helen of Troy Lessing, Gotthold E., 1729-1781, _C. 69, 224_, Laocoön Lettsom, W. N. The Fall of the Nibelungers, 407-409; _C. 283_ Linton, William James, 1812-1897. _C. 118_, Eurydice; _196_, Iphigenia at Aulis Lo´beck, Chr. A., 1781-1860. Aglaophamus, 442 _n_; _C. 114-117_ Lodge, G. C., 1873-1909. Herakles, 12; _C. 10-15, 156-162_ Lodge, Thomas, 1558-1625. _C. 38_ (2), Sonnet to Phyllis Longfellow, H. W., 1807-1882. Quoted or referred to: Prometheus, 13-15; Drinking Song, 153; _C. 10-15_, Masque of Pandora, Prometheus, and Epimetheus; _96, 255-257_, Occultation of Orion; _98_, Endymion; _155_, Pegasus in Pound; _255-257_, Verses to a Child; _268-281_, Tegnér's Drapa, Saga of King Olaf Lonsdale, J., and Lee, S. _C. 299_, transl. Virgil Lorrain (l[='o]-r[=a]n´), Claude (Gel['e]e), 1600-1682 (paint.). _C. 36_, Mercury and Battus; _59_, Europa; _141_, Evening, Acis, and Galatea Lowell, J. R., 1819-1891. Quotations from The Shepherd of King Admetus, 105, 106; from Fable for Critics (Daphne), 114; from Rh[oe]cus, 193, 194; _C. 10-15, 58_, Prometheus; _36_, Finding of the Lyre; _38_ (2), (6), Hebe, Villa Franca; _44-46_, to the Past; _50-52_, The Sirens; _98_, Endymion; _118_, Eurydice Ludlow, J. M. _C. 301_, Popular Epics of the Middle Ages Lü´ning. Die Edda, 458 _n_ Lydgate, John, 1370(?)-1451(?). _C. 196_, The Troy Book Lyly (lil´[)i]), John, 1553-1606. _C.38_ (1), Cupid and Campaspe; _89, 113_, King Midas; _98_, Endymion; _107_, Sappho and Phao Lytton, Edward G. E. L. Bulwer, Lord, 1803-1873. _C. 38_ (2), Ganymede; _64_, Cydippe, or the Apples; _226_, transl. Schiller's Cassandra; _255-257_, Death and Sisyphus; _299_, transl. Horace Mabie, H. W. _C. 268-281_, Norse Stories Macaulay, T. B., 1800-1859. Quotation from Prophecy of Capys, 61; from Lake Regillus, 243-245 Maffei (mäf-f[=a]'[=e]), F. S. di, 1675-1755. _C. 169_, Merope Magnússon (mäg´n[=oo]s-s[='o]n), Arne. Derivation of word Edda, 459 _n_ Magnússon (mäg´n[=oo]s-s[='o]n), Eirikr (and William Morris). Story of the Volsungs and Nibelungs, 460 _n_; _C. 282_ Mannhardt (män´härt), W. Antike Wald- und Feld-kulte, 440 _n_; _C. 100_ Marchal, C. F., 1828-1878. _C. 231-244_, Penelope Marlowe, Christopher, 1564-1593. Extract from Hero and Leander, 142-144; from Faustus, 287, 288; _C. 245-254_, Tragedy of Dido, Queen of Carthage Marston, J., 1575(?)-1634. _C. 105_, Pygmalion Martin, Sir Theodore, 1816-1898. _C. 36_, Goethe's Ph[oe]bus and Hermes; _38_ (1), _163-167, 176-181, 199, 299_, transl. Catullus; _299_, transl. Horace Marvell, Andrew, 1621-1678. _C. 98_, Lord Fauconberg, Lady Mary Cromwell Maxwell. _C. 49_, Tom May's Death Mengs (menks), Anton Raphael, 1728-1779 (paint.). _C. 38_ (1), Cupid; _38_ (4), Apollo and Muses Meredith, George, 1828-1909. _C. 76_, Phaëton; _114-117_, The Appeasement of Demeter Merivale, J. H., 1779-1844 (and R. Bland). _C. 298_, transl. Greek Anthology Mi-[-c]hel-an´[.g][='e]-lo Buonarroti, 1475-1564 (sculpt. and paint.). Three Fates, 38; Cumæan Sibyl, 353; _C. 30_, Apollo; _38_ (6), The Fates; _42_, Drunken Bacchus; _49_, A Fury; _100_, Dying Adonis; _131_, Mask of a Satyr; _245-254_, Sibyls Mickle, William Julius, 1735-1788. _C. 106_, transl. of Camoens' Lusiad Millais (m[)i]-l[=a]'), Sir John Everett, 1829-1896 (paint.). _C. 139_, Pomona Millet (m[=e]-l[)e]'), Jean François, 1814-1875 (paint.). _C. 30_, Ph[oe]bus and Boreas Milman, Henry Hart, 1791-1868. Lines from the Samor, 213; _C. 76_, Samor; _110-112_, Bacchanals of Euripides; _196_, Agamemnon of Æschylus; _298_, transl. Euripides Milton, John, 1608-1674. Reference to, 14. Quoted: lines from Il Penseroso, 211, 451; from the Hymn on the Nativity, 181; from Comus, 40, 204, 205, 213, 314; from Paradise Lost, 226; _C. 16, 4-257 passim_, references to Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, Lycidas, Comus, Il Penseroso, L´Allegro, Sonnets, Arcades, Vacation Excursion, Hymn on the Nativity, Samson Agonistes Mogk, E. Article _Mythologie_ in Paul's Grundriss d. Germ. Philol., 446 _n_, 460 _n_ Molinari (mo-l[='e]-nä´r[=e]), Antonio, 1665-1727 (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Psyche and Sleeping Cupid (Dresden) Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852. Quoted: Song of Hyperborean, 43; Clytie, 117; _C. 38_ (2), Fall of Hebe; _78_, Sir R. Blackmore; _80_, Lycus the Centaur; _93, 101-102_, Cupid and Psyche; _103_, Rhymes on the Road; _104_, Hero and Leander; _106_, The Sylph's Ball; _123-124_, Legendary Ballads; _156-162_, Hylas; _304_, The Fire-Worshipers Morley, H., 1822-1894. _C. 300_, extract (on Runes) from English Writers Morris, Sir Lewis, 1833-1907. The Epic of Hades, _C. 22, 24-25_ (Zeus); _26_ (Heré); _27_ (Athene); _30_ (Apollo); _32_ (Artemis); _34_ (Aphrodite); _47, 49_ (Hades); _48_ (Persephone); _61_ (Sisyphus); _78, 118_ (Tantalus); _87_ (Marsyas); _95_ (Actæon); _98_ (Endymion); _100_ (Adonis); _101-102_ (Psyche); _118_ (Orpheus, Eurydice); _132-133_ (Narcissus); _149-154_ (Medusa, Andromeda); _156-162_ (Dejaneira); _176-181_ (Phædra); _224_ (Laocoön); _228-230_ (Clytemnestra); _78_, Niobe on Sipylus Morris, William, 1834-1896. Extracts from The Earthly Paradise, Story of Cupid and Psyche, 131, 135; Pygmalion and the Image, 146, 147; Doom of King Acrisius, 209, 210; Life and Death of Jason, 232, 233; Sigurd the Volsung, 398-404; _C. 50-52, 118, 163-167_, Life and Death of Jason; _64_, Earthly Paradise; _83_, The Love of Alcestis; _103_, Atalanta's Race; _149-154_, The Doom of Acrisius; _155_, Bellerophon; _156-162_, The Golden Apples; _221_, Death of Paris; _231-244_, transl. Odyssey; _268-281_, The Funeral of Balder; _282_, Sigurd the Volsung; _299_, transl. the Æneids Morris, William, and E. Magnússon (mäg´n[=oo]s-s[='o]n). The Story of the Volsungs and Nibelungs, 460 _n_; _C. 282_ Morshead, E. A. A. _C. 196, 298_, transl. Æschylus Motherwell, W., 1797-1835. _C. 282_, Battle-Flag of Sigurd; Jarl Egill Skallagrim; Sword Chant of Thorstein Muir (m[=u]r), J. _C. 303_, Sanskrit Texts; Principal Deities of the Rig-Veda Müller (mül´[~e]r), F. Max, 1823-1900. Cited, 434, 437, 438, 448 _n_; Oxford Essays, etc., referred to, 446 _n_; Preface and _C. 303_, Sacred Books of the East, History Sanskrit Literature, Science of Religion, Chips from a German Workshop, etc.; _C. 19-20, 24-25, 27, 36, 57, 58, 78, 81, 89, 109, 118, 126-127, 149-154, 155_, references to works in general Müller (mül´[=e]r), H. D. _C. 59_, theory about Demeter Murray, A. S. Manual of Mythology, referred to, Preface and 150 Myers, E., 1844 ----. _C. 10-15_, Judgment of Prometheus; _195_, Sonnet on the Iliad; _298_ (w. Lang and Leaf), transl. Iliad, transl. Odes of Pindar Myller, C. H. _C. 283_, edition of Nibelungenlied Neaves, Charles, Lord, 1800-1876. _C. 298_, transl. Greek Anthology Neide (n[-i]'d[~e]), E., 1842 ---- (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Charon and Psyche No´el, Hon. Roden, 1834 ----. _C. 38_ (2), Ganymede; _42_, Triumph of Bacchus; _129-130_, Pan (in the Modern Faust); _268-281_, Ragnarok (Modern Faust) Occleve, Thomas, 1370-1454. _C. 38_ (1), The Letter of Cupid Olafsson (o´läfs-sun), Magnus, 1574-1636. Edition of Snorri's Edda, 459 Paley, F. A., 1816-1888. _C. 298_, transl. Pindar's Odes Palgrave, F. T., 1824-1897. _C. 83_, Alcestis Palmer, G. H., 1842 ----. _C. 231-244, 298_, transl. Odyssey Parmigiano (pär-m[='e]-jä´n[=o]) (Francesco Mazzuoli), 1504-1540 (paint.). _C. 38_ (2), The Rape of Ganymede (Dresden) Parnell, Thomas, 1679-1718. _C. 10-15_, Hesiod, or the Rise of Woman; _42_, Bacchus Pater, Walter H., 1839-1894. Extract from Marius the Epicurean, 133; the story of Cupid and Psyche, 157, 457 _n_; _C. 40_, Myth of Demeter; _101-102, 299_, Marius the Epicurean Patmore, Coventry, 1823-1896. _C. 38_ (1), The Unknown Eros Paul (poul), Hermann. Grundriss d. Germ. Philol., referred to, 446 _n_, 460 _n_ Paupion (p[=o]-p[='e]-ôn´) E. J. (paint.). _C. 106_, Thisbe Peacock, Thomas Love, 1785-1866. _C. 110-112_, Vengeance of Bacchus Peele, George, 1558-1598. _C. 54, 195_, Arraignment of Paris Petiscus, A. H. The Gods of Olympus, 446 _n_ Phillips, Ambrose, 1671-1749. _C. 107_, transl. Sappho; _139_, Cider Phillips, Stephen, 1868 ----. Extract from Marpessa, 115, 116; from Ulysses, 338; _C. 231-244_, Ulysses Pisano (p[='e]-zä[']n[=o]), Andrea, 1270-1349 (paint.). _C. 173_, Dædalus and Icarus Pix[']is, Th., 1831 ---- (paint.). _C. 283_, Illustrations of the Ring of the Nibelungen Plump[']tr[=e], E. H., 1821-1891. Transl. Sophocles, 262-264, 267, 268; _C. 156-162, 182-189, 196, 204, 219-220, 228-230, 298_, transl. Æschylus and Sophocles Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744. Transl. Homer, 286-288, 292, 293, 306, _C. 231-244, 298_; transl. Statius' Thebaid, _299_; references to Dunciad, the Messiah, Rape of the Lock, Windsor Forest, Essay on Criticism, Prologue to Satires, Spring, Summer, Moral Essays, Miscellaneous, _8, 18, 22, 30, 34, 38_ (1), _40, 44-46, 49, 50-52, 54, 57, 65-66, 78, 97, 100, 107, 113, 118, 125, 129-130, 131, 155, 156-162, 163-167, 172, 231-244, 255-257, 260_ Potter, R., 1721-1804. _C. 298_, transl. Æschylus and Euripides Poussin (p[=oo]-s[)a]n[']), Nicolas, 1594-1665 (paint.). _C. 54_, The Kingdom of Flora; _57_, Pan and Syrinx (Dresden); _132-133_, Narcissus Poynter, Sir E. J., 1836 ---- (paint.). _C. 103_, Atalanta's Race. Note also his Andromeda, Perseus, and Andromeda and Helen Praed (pr[=a]d), Winthrop Mackworth, 1802-1839. _C. 226_, Cassandra Preller (pr[)e]l['][~e]r), L., 1809-1861. Griechische Mythologie, cited or referred to, Preface and 4 _n_, 6 _n_, 446 _n_; _C. 8, 27, 30, 32, 34, 57, 59, 60, 61, 70_, _72-73_, _78_, _95_, _105_, _110-112_, _114-117_, _123-124_, _126-127_, _149-154_, _172_ Preston, Margaret J., 1825-1897. _C. 93_, Flight of Arethusa; _125_, Alcyone; _168_, The Quenched Branch Prior, Matthew, 1664-1721. _C. 50-52_, On taking of Namur; _76_, Female Phaëton Procter, Bryan Waller, 1787-1874. _C. 4_, Fall of Saturn; _19-20_, The Flood of Thessaly; _32_, The Worship of Dian; _110-112_, Bacchanalian Song; _114-117_, Rape of Proserpine; _141_, Death of Acis; _176-181_, On the Statue of Theseus Raleigh, Sir Walter, 1552-1618. Citation from History of the World, 440 Randolph, Thomas, 1605-1634. _C. 42_, _54_, To Master Anthony Stafford Raphael (r[)a]f['][='a]-[)e]l) (Sanzio, of Urbino), 1483-1520 (paint.). _C. 28_, Mars; _30_, Apollo; _32_, Luna; _36_, Mercury; _38_, Cupids, Six Hours of Day and Night; _87_, Marsyas; _101-102_, Cupid and Psyche; _141_, Triumph of Galatea; _195_, Sketch of Homer; _245-254_, Virgil, Dido Read, T. B., 1822-1872. _C. 98_, Endymion Reed, E. A. _C. 303_, Hindu Literature Regnault (r[)e]-ny[=o]'), J. B., 1754-1829 (paint.). _C. 38_ (3), The Graces. Note also his Education of Achilles, Pygmalion and Venus, Death of Priam, and Orestes and Iphigenia Reinach (ri[']nä[.c]h), Salomon, 1858 ----. _C. 78_, Apollo Rembrandt (r[)e]m[']br[)a]nt) van Ryn, 1606-1669 (paint.). _C. 38_ (2), Ganymede carried off by Jove's Eagle (Dresden) Reni, Guido (gw[=e][']d[=o] r[=a][']n[=e]) 1575-1642 (paint.). _C. 38_ (1), Cupid; _103_, Atalanta's Race; _123-124_, Aurora Rhys (r[=e]s), John. Article in the _Academy_, 458 _n_ Richardson, F. _C. 303_, Iliad of the East Richardson, L. J. _C. 64_, Biton and Cleobis Rivière (r[=e]-vyêr[']), Briton, 1840 ---- (paint.). _C. 231-244_, Circe and the Companions of Ulysses. Note also his Argus and Actæon Robinson, A. Mary F. (Madame James Darmesteter), 1857 ----. _C. 30_, A Search for Apollo, In Apollo's Garden; _176-181_, The Crowned Hippolytus Rogers, Randolph, 1825-1892 (sculpt.). _C. 97_, The Lost Pleiad Rogers, Robert Cameron, 1862 ----. Poems: _C. 44_, Charon; _54_, The Dancing Faun; _141_, Blind Polyphemus; _159_, Hylas; _231-244_, Odysseus at the Mast, the Death of Argus Rogers, Samuel, 1763-1855. _C. 38_ (3), Inscription for a Temple dedicated to the Graces; _156-162_, On the Torso of Hercules Rohde (ro[']d[~e]), E. Psyche, 446 _n_ Romano (ro-mä[']no), Giulio Pippi, 1492-1546 (paint.). _C.38_(4), Muses; _129-130_, Pan and the Young Olympos (Dresden) Roscher (r[='o]sh['][~e]r), W. H. Ausführliches Lexikon d. griech. u. röm. Mythologie, referred to or cited, 7 _n_, 75 _n_, 93 _n_, 437 _n_; see Preface, and _C. 26_, _27_, _28_, _29_, _30_, _32_, _34_, _36_, _59_, _100_, _109_, _142_, _148_, _149-154_, _155_, _163-167_ Ross, R. S. _C. 176-181_, Ariadne in Naxos, London, 1882 Rossetti (r[='o]-set['][='e]), D. G., 1828-1882. _C. 4_, Mnemosyne; _10-15_, Pandora; _32_, Diana; _34_, _35_, Venus Victrix, Venus Verticordia; _48_, Proserpina; _50-52_, A Sea-Spell, The Siren; _104_, Hero's Lamp; _149-154_, Aspecta Medusa; _182-189_, The Sphinx (a painting); _195_, Helen; _226_, Cassandra (drawing and poem); _231-244_, Penelope, The Wine of Circe (for painting by E. Burne-Jones) Roy, Protap Chundra. _C. 303_, transl. Mahâbhârata Rubens (r[=oo][']benz), Peter Paul, 1577-1640 (paint.). _C. 32_, Diana and her Nymphs; _131_, Satyrs; _149-154_, Perseus and Andromeda; _156-162_, Hercules intoxicated; _168_, Meleager and Atalanta (Dresden); _195_, Judgment of Paris Ruskin, J., 1819-1900. The Queen of the Air, 435, 444, 445; _C. 27_ Sæmund (s[=a][']m[=oo]nd) the Wise, 1055-1133. His connection with the Elder Edda, 459 Sandys (s[)a]ndz), George, 1577-1644. _C. 299_, transl. Metamorphoses Saxe, J. G., 1816-1887. _C. 38_ (1), Death and Cupid; _76_, Phaëton; _113_, Choice of King Midas; _118_, Orpheus; _173_, Icarus; _231-244_, The Spell of Circe Scheffer (sh[)e]f['][~e]r), Ary, 1795-1858 (paint.). _C. 38_ (2), Hebe Schiavoni (skyä-vo[']n[=e]), N., 1777-1858 (paint.). _C. 38_ (2), Hebe Schiller (sh[)i]l['][~e]r), J. C. F. von, 1759-1805. Extract from his Gods of Greece, transl. by C. M. Gayley, 182; from Ideal and Life, transl. by S. G. Bulfinch, 227, 228. See under _Bowring, Lytton, S. G. Bulfinch, Frothingham, Brooks_ Schliemann (shl[=e][']män), H., 1822-1890. _C. 228-230_, Troy and its Remains, Ilios, Troja Schnorr von Carolsfeld (shn[='o]r f[='o]n kä[']-r[='o]ls-felt), Julius, 1794-1872. _C. 283_, The Nibelungen Frescoes Schobelt (sho[']belt), P., 1838 ---- (paint.). _C. 48_, _114-117_, Rape of Proserpine Schützenberger (shütz[']en-b[)e]r['][=g][~e]r), L. F., 1825 ---- (paint.). _C. 38_ (4), Terpsichore Scott, Sir Walter, 1771-1832. _C. 245-254_, Marmion (Palinurus) Scott, William Bell, 1811-1890. _C. 118_, Eurydice; _182-189_, The Sphinx; _196_, Iphigenia at Aulis Seifert (zi[']f[~e]rt), A. (paint.). _C. 228-230_, Electra Sellar, W. Y., 1825-1890. Augustan Poets, 446 _n_ Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Extract from Macbeth, 236; _C. 4-257_ _passim_, references to works in general Shelley, P. B., 1792-1822. Quotations from Hymn of Apollo, 28, 29; Hymn of Pan, 111, 112; Arethusa, 118-120; Song of Proserpine, 160; Lines on the Medusa of Leonardo Da Vinci, 210; _C. 10-15_, _38_ (2), _57_, _109_, Prometheus Unbound; _30_, Homer's Hymn to Apollo, Adonaïs; _36_, _109_, Homer's Hymn to Mercury; _42_, _50-52_, Ode to Liberty; _44-46_, To Naples; _49_, To Night; _57_, To the Moon; _93_, Arethusa; _95_, Adonaïs; _118_, Orpheus; _141_, Cyclops of Euripides; _182-189_, Swellfoot the Tyrant Sichel (ziG[']el), N., 1844 ---- (paint.). Reference to, _C. 10-15_ Sidney, Sir P., 1554-1586. _C. 30, 156-162_, Astrophel and Stella Sill, E. R., 1841-1887. Quoted: Venus of Milo, 32-34; Semele, 72, 73 Sime (s[=i]m), James. Nibelungenlied (in Encyc. Brit.), 461 _n_ Smart, Chr., 1722-1771. _C. 299_, transl. Horace Solimena (so-le-m[=a][']nä), Francesco, 1657-1747 (paint.). _C. 121_, Rape of Hippodamia; _176-181_, Battle of Centaurs and Lapithæ Southey, R., 1774-1843. _C. 118_, Thalaba Spenser, Edmund, 1552-1599. Quoted: Verses on the Graces, 36, 37; from the Muiopotmos, 83; Faerie Queene, 454; referred to: Epithalamion, _C. 30_, _32_, _34_, _38_ (2), _42_, _98_, _126-127_, _149-154_; Prothalamion, _4, 32, 34, 50-52, 132-133, 170-171_; Tears of the Muses, _38_ (4); Faerie Queene, _30, 32, 38_ (8), _40_, _42_, _48_, _49_, _50-52_, _54_, _76_, _96_, _118_, _123-124_, _126-127_, _155_, _156-162_, _170-171_ Stanyhurst, R., d. 1618. _C. 299_, transl. Æneid, 1-4 Stapylton, Sir R., d. 1669. _C. 104_, transl. Musæus Stedman, E. C., 1833-1908. Pan in Wall Street, quoted, 183-185; _C. 22_, News from Olympia; _231-244_, Penelope Stephens, George, 1851 ----. _C. 300_, Old Runic Monuments Stoddard, R. H., 1825-1903. _C. 54_, Arcadian Hymn to Flora; _114-117_, The Search for Persephone Story, W. W., 1819-1895. _C. 32_, Artemis; _59_, Europa; _91_, Clytie; _255-257_, Tantalus Sturlason, Snorri (sn[)o]r[']r[=e] st[=oo]r[']l[.a]-sun), 1179-1241. Connection with the Prose Edda, 459; _C. 268-281_ Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of, 1517-1547. _C. 106_, Death of Sir T. Wyatt Sveinsson (sv[=i]ns[']sun), Bp. Bryniolf, 1605-1675. His connection with the Elder Edda, 459 Swanwick (sw[)o]n´ik), Anna, 1813-1899. _C. 196_, transl. Æschylus Swift, Jonathan, 1667-1745. His burlesque verses on Philemon and Baucis, 79, 80; _C. 30_, Apollo Outwitted; _54_, To Janus; _113_, Fable of Midas; _224_, A City Shower Swinburne, A. C., 1837-1909. Quoted: His Garden of Proserpine, 49, 50; from Atalanta in Calydon, 237 _et seq._; _C. 32_, Chorus to Artemis; _34_, Chorus to Aphrodite (in Atalanta in Calydon); Laus Veneris; _40_, At Eleusis; _42_, Prelude to Songs before Sunrise; _48_, To Proserpine; _114-117_, Song to Proserpine, At Eleusis; _129-130_, Pan and Thalassius; _168_, Atalanta in Calydon; _174_, Itylus; _176-181_, Phædra, Erechtheus; _182-189_, Tiresias Tabley, Lord de (pseud. Wm. P. Lancaster), 1835 ----. _C. 10-15_, Pandora; _57_, Minos; _60_, Semele; _89_, Daphne; _129-130_, Ode to Pan; _219-220_, Philoctetes; _228-230_, Orestes Talfourd (tôl[']f[~e]rd), Sir Thomas Noon, 1795-1854. _C. 174_, Ion Taylor, Bayard, 1825-1878. _C. 19-20_, Prince Deukalion; _22_, Masque of the Gods; _156-162_, Hylas; _173_, Icarus Teignmouth (t[)i]n[']muth) (English artist). _C. 64_, Cydippe Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 1809-1892. Quotations from the Hesperides, 40; Amphion, 76, 77; Locksley Hall, 124; his Tithonus, 177-179; Dream of Fair Women (Helen), 277, (Iphigenia) 281; [OE]none, 278; Lotos-eaters, 319, 320; Ulysses, 344-345; To Virgil, 346; _C. 24-25_, _30_, The Talking Oak; _38_ (2), _54_, _59_, Palace of Art; _38_, (11) The Hesperides; _40_, _114-117_, Demeter and Persephone; _104_, Hero to Leander; _149-154_, The Princess; _182-189_, Tiresias; _195_, Dream of Fair Women; _221_, [OE]none, and Death of [OE]none; _245-254_, To Virgil Tennyson, Frederick, 1807-1898. _C. 78_, Niobe; _89_, Daphne; _101-102_, Psyche; _105_, Pygmalion; _107_, Kleïs (in Isles of Greece); _125_, Halcyone; _163-167_, Æson, and King Athamas; _176-181_, Ariadne Teschendorff (tesh´en-dôrf), E., 1823 ---- (paint.). _C. 176-181_, Ariadne; _182-189_, [OE]dipus, Antigone, Ismene; _196_, Iphigenia; _228-230_, Electra Thomas, Edith M., 1854 ----. _C. 38_ (2), Homesickness of Ganymede; _81_, Apollo the Shepherd; _87_, Marsyas; _125_, The Kingfisher Thomson, James, 1700-1748. Extract from the Seasons, 195; _C. 35_, _54_, Seasons; _38_ (4), _49_, _105_, Castle of Indolence; _174_, Hymn to the Seasons; _196_, Agamemnon, a Tragedy Thorpe, B. _C. 268-281_, transl. of Sæmund's Edda Thorwaldsen (tôr[']wôld-sen), Albert Bertel, 1770-1844 (sculpt.). _C. 10-15_, Minerva and Prometheus (on vase of the Perseus); _28_, Mars and Cupid; _29_, Vulcan forging Arrows for Cupid; _35_, Venus with the Apple; _36_, Mercury; _38_, Mars and Cupid, Ganymede, Terpsichore; _80_, Hygea and Æsculapius; _100_, Adonis; _207_, Hector and Andromache Thumann (t[=oo]'män), Paul, 1834 ---- (paint.). _C. 38_ (6), The Fates; _101-102_, Cupid and Psyche Tickell, Thomas, 1686-1740. _C. 30_, To Apollo making love, transl. of Iliad, Bk. 1 (1715) Tiele (t[=e]'l[~e]), Professor C. P. Cited by Lang, 438 Tintoretto (t[=e]n-t[='o]-ret´t[=o]), Giacomo, 1518-1594 (paint.). _C. 27_, Minerva defeating Mars; _29_, Forge of Vulcan; _35_, Cupid, Venus, and Vulcan; _36_, Mercury and the Graces; _176-181_ Ariadne and Bacchus; _38_ (4), The Muses and Apollo (Dresden) Tisio (t[=e]'z[='e]-[=o]), Benvenuto, 1481-1559 (paint.). _C. 68_, Venus showing her wounded hand to Mars (Dresden) Titian (tish´[.a]n) (Tiziano Vecellio), 1477-1576 (paint.). _C. 35_, Venus; _38_ (1), Cupid and Venus (Dresden); _54_, Flora; _100_, Venus and Adonis (copy, Dresden); _149-154_, Danaë and the Shower of Gold; _176-181_, Bacchus and Ariadne Todhunter, John, 1839 ----. _C. 83_, Alcestis; _195_, Helena in Troas Translators: English Translations from Ancient and Modern Poems, by various authors (Vol. II including Rowe's Lucan's Pharsalia; Fawkes' Theocritus, Bion, Moschus, Argonautics of Apollonius Rhodius, Anacreon, Sappho; Ovid's Metamorphoses by Dryden, Addison, Garth, etc.; Lewis' Thebais of Statius; Cooke's Hesiod, etc.). 3 vols. London, 1810. For other translators, see _C. 195-244, 298-303_ Turchi (t[=oo]r´k[=e]), Alessandro (l´Orbetto), 1582-1648 (paint.). _C. 100_, Venus holding the body of Adonis (Dresden) Turner, Charles Tennyson, 1808-1879. _C. 96_ Orion Turner, J. M. W., 1775-1851 (paint.). _C. 36_, Mercury and Argus; _123-124_, Procris and Cephalus; _245-254_, Dido building Carthage Tylor, E. B., 1832-1909. Works cited or referred to, 440 _n_, 446, 449 _n_ Van Beers (vän b[=a]rs´), J., 1821-1888 (paint.). _C. 50-52_, The Siren Van der Werff (vän d[~e]r v[)e]rf´), Adrian, 1659-1722 (paint.). _C. 195_, Judgment of Paris (Dresden) Van Dyck (v[)a]n d[=i]k´), Sir Anthony, 1599-1641. _C. 38_ (1), Sleeping Cupid; _149-154_, Jupiter and Danaë (Dresden) Van Haarlem (vän här´lem), Cornelis, 1562-1638 (paint.). _C. 190-194_ (1), Wedding of Peleus and Thetis (Hague) Van Mieris (vän me´ris), Willem, 1662-1747 (paint.). _C. 123-124_, Cephalus and Procris (Dresden) Vedder, Elihu, 1836 ---- (paint.). _C. 97_, Pleiades; _245-254_, Cumæan Sibyl Velasquez (v[=a]-läs´k[=a]th), D. R. de Silva y, 1599-1660 (paint.). _C. 29_, Forge of Vulcan Vere (v[=e]r), Aubrey Thomas De, 1814-1902. _C. 30_, Lines under Delphi; _48_, Search after Proserpine; _59_, Rape of Europa; _114-117_, on the myth of Proserpine; _182-189_, Antigone Veronese (v[=a]-r[='o]-n[=a]'z[=a]) (Paolo Cagliari), 1528-1588 (paint.). _C. 30_, St. Christina, etc.; _35_, Venus, Satyr, Cupid; _59_, Rape of Europa Verrall, Arthur W. _C. 298_, transl. Æschylus and Euripides Vien (vy[)a]n), J. M., 1716-1809 (paint.). _C. 173_, Dædalus and Icarus Vigfusson (vig´f[=oo]-sun), G., and F. Y. Powell. Corpus Poeticum Boreale, 458-460 _n_; _C. 268-281, 282, 300_ Vilmar, A. F. C. Geschichte d. deutschen National-Litteratur, 461 _n_; _C. 301_ Vinci, Da (dä v[=e]n´ch[=e]), Leonardo, 1452-1519 (paint.). _C. 149-154_, Head of Medusa Voltaire (v[='o]l-têr´), 1694-1778. _C. 169_, Merope Voss (f[='o]s), G. J., 1577-1649. Advocate of _theological_ interpretation, 440 Wade, Thomas, 1805-1875. _C. 26_, The Nuptials of Juno Wagner (väg´n[~e]r), Richard, 1813-1883. The Ring of the Nibelung, 410-430; _C. 283, 284-288_ Waller, Edmund, 1605-1687. _C. 50-52, 89, 245-254_, Panegyric on Lord Protector Ward, W. _C. 303_, History, Literature, and Mythology of the Hindoos Warton, Joseph, 1722-1800. _C. 40_, First of April Watteau (v[.a]-t[=o]'), Antoine, 1684-1721 (paint.). _C. 195_, Judgment of Paris Watts, G. F., 1817-1904 (paint.). _C. 89_, Daphne; _98_, Endymion; _101-102_, Psyche; _118_, Orpheus and Eurydice. Note also his Ariadne, and The Wife of Pygmalion Way, A. S. _C. 298_, transl. Euripides; _299_, transl. Horace Weber (v[=a]'b[~e]r), A. F. _C. 303_, History of Indian Literature Webster, Augusta, 1840 ----. _C. 10-15_, transl. Æschylus' Prometheus Bound; _163-167_, transl. Euripides' Medea Welcker (v[)e]l´k[~e]r), F. G. _C. 59, 126-127_, interpretations of myths West, E. W. See _Haug_ Wheeler, B. I. Dionysos and Immortality, 446 _n_ White, Henry Kirke, 1785-1806. _C. 32_ Ode to Contemplation; _49_, Thanatos Whitelaw, R. _C. 156-162, 298_, transl. Sophocles Wickham, E. C. _C. 299_, transl. Horace Wiertz (v[=e]rts), A. J., 1806-1865 (paint.). _C. 29_, Forge of Vulcan; _199_, Fight for the Body of Achilles Wilde, Oscar, 1856-1900. _C. 38_ (1), The Garden of Eros; _174_, The Burden of Itys Wilkinson, Sir Gardner, 1797-1875. _C. 128_, on the statue of Memnon Wilkinson, W. C. _C. 298_, College Greek Course, and College Latin Course, in English Williams, Sir M. Monier, 1819-1899. _C. 303_, transl. Nalopákhyánam Williams, T. C. _C. 299_, transl. Æneid Wilson, H. H., 1786-1860. _C. 303_, transl. Rig-Veda-Sanhita; Theatre of the Hindus Wodhull, Michael, 1740-1816. _C. 163-167, 228-230, 298_, transl. Euripides Woodberry, George E. Extracts from Proserpine, 163, 164 Woolner, Thomas, 1825-1892. _C. 27_, Tiresias (Pallas Athene); _34_, Pygmalion (Cytherea); _105_, Pygmalion; _182-189_, The Sphinx Wordsworth, W., 1770-1850. Quoted: Sonnet, "The World is too much with us," 58; Laodamia, 282, 283; Excursion, 443, 444; _C. 32_, To Lycoris; _118, 129-130_, Power of Music; _219-220_, Philoctetes Wyatt, Sir Thomas, 1503-1542. _C. 34_, The Lover prayeth, etc.; _245-254_, Song of Iopas Young, Edward, 1683-1765. _C. 38_ (4), Ocean; _54, 98, 155, 245-254_, Night Thoughts Zick (ts[)i]k), A. (paint.). _C. 101-102_, Psyche Transcriber's Notes: Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors were corrected. Punctuation normalized. Anachronistic and non-standard spellings retained as printed. Italics markup is enclosed in _underscores_. Bold markup is enclosed in =equals signs=. Greek text is transliterated and enclosed in #number signs#. Item # 108 on p. 505 is missing in original. Latin small letter c with bar is denoted by [-c]. Superscripts are indicated with a single caret (^) followed by the superscripted text. If the superscript continues for more than one character, then the text is surrounded by curly braces { and } as well. Proofreading Symbols for Diacritical Marks (In the table below, the "x" represents a letter with a diacritical mark.) diacritical mark sample above below macron (straight line) ¯ [=x] [x=] 2 dots (dieresis, umlaut) ¨ [:x] [x:] 1 dot · [.x] [x.] acute accent (aigu) ' ['x] [x'] circumflex [^x] [x^] breve (u-shaped symbol) [)x] [x)] tilde [~x] [x~] plus sign + [+x] [x+]