418 



SORROW AND MOURNING. 



My father and mother, 



My four brothers ; 



The wind played with them 



On the deep; 



The wave dashed them 



Against the gunwale. 



I myself had to wash, 

 I myself had to bury, 

 I myself had to handle 

 Their corpses ; 

 All that I suffered 

 In one year, 

 And no man 

 Gave me help. 



The same year 



I became a bondwoman ; l 



I had to dress, 



And to tie the shoes 



Of a hersir's wife 



Every morning. 



She threatened me 

 Because of jealousy, 

 And struck me with 

 Hard blows ; 

 Nowhere found I 

 A better house-master 

 Nor anywhere 

 A worse housewife. 



Still Gudrun 

 Could not weep, 

 So sad was she 

 For her dead husband 

 And heavy-hearted 

 O'er the king's corpse. 



Then said Gullrond, 

 The daughter of Gjuki : 

 Little comfort 

 Canst thou, foster-mother, 

 Wise though thou art, 

 Give the young wife. 

 She bid them uncover 

 The king's corpse. 



She drew the sheet 

 Off Sigurd 



And threw it on the ground, 

 Before the knees of the wife : 

 Look on thy beloved one, 

 Put thy mouth to his lips, 

 As if thou did'st embrace 

 The living king. 



Gudrun looked 



At him once ; 



She saw his hair 



Dripping with blood ; 



The flashing eyes 



Of the king were dead ; 



His breast 2 



Was cut with a sword. 



Then Gudrun sank down 

 Upon the pillow ; 

 Loose was her hair, 

 Flushed was her cheek 

 And a tear-drop 

 Fell on her knee. 



Then wept Gudrun, 



The daughter of Gjuki, 



So that the tears 



Flowed through her tresses ; 



And the geese 



Screamed in the yard 



The good fowls 



Which the maiden owned. 



Then said Gullrond, 

 The daughter of Gjuki : 

 I never knew 

 A greater love 

 Among all men 

 Upon earth 

 Than that of you two. 

 Thou wast never happy, 

 My sister, 

 Indoors or out, 

 Unless with Sigurd. 



1 Ws see the custom of slave-women. 



2 Breast, called here the burg of the 

 mind. 



