He was born in 1179, his father, Sturla Thordarson, being one of the
most powerful chieftains of the island.
most powerful chieftains of the island.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v09 - Dra to Eme
It would be
useless to ask you to witness formalities which the law requires,
but which you would only find irksome. The representative of
the law awaits me in yonder room; and in obedience to another
and a higher law, I am going now to renounce a fortune which
is not mine, and a name which neither I nor my family can con-
scientiously bear longer. After this is done I will return here,
and with my wife, and - and my daughter — and let no one
seek to dissuade me from my purpose, for it would be in vain
I will leave this house which has been for me in the past the
abode of love and happiness, but which is to-day the abode of
treachery and baseness. Gentlemen [to Dr. Tomás and Dr. Ber-
múde), lead the way; I beg you to do so.
[All slowly enter the study. On the threshold Lorenzo casts a last look at
Inez. ]
Translation made for (A Library of the World's Best Literature,' by Mary J.
Serrano
## p. 5109 (#281) ###########################################
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
5109
FROM THE GREAT GALEOTO)
[In the scenes which are here cited the poison of slander begins to work.
Don Severo, uttering the anonymous gossip of the world, has implanted in the
mind of his middle-aged brother Don Julian the first suspicion of the honor
of his young wife Teodora and the loyalty of his adopted son Ernest. Teo-
dora, who has been warned by Mercedes, Don Severo's wife, overhears the
accusing words of her brother-in-law, who is talking with her husband in an
inner apartment; and horror-struck, is about to fly from the room. ]
Julian [inside] - Let me go!
Mercedes (inside] - No, for Heaven's sake!
Julian — It is they. I will go!
Teodora (to Ernest] - Go! go!
Severo [to Ernest] - You shall give me satisfaction for this!
Ernest - I will not refuse it.
Enter Julian, pale and disordered; wounded and seemingly in a dying
condition, supported by Mercedes. Don Severo stations himself at the
right, Teodora and Ernest remain in the background.
Julian — Together! Where are they going? — Stop them!
They shun my presence! Traitors!
[He makes a movement as if to rush toward them, but his strength fails
him and he totters. ]
Severo [hurrying to his assistance] — No, no.
Julian — They deceived me — they lied to me! Wretches!
[ While he is speaking, Mercedes and Severo lead him to the arm-
chair on the right. ] There— look at them - she and Ernest!
Why are they together ?
Teodora and Ernest (separating] — No!
Julian - Why do they not come to me? Teodora!
Teodora (stretching out her arms, but without advancing] -
My Julian!
Julian - Here, on my heart ! [Teodora runs to Julian and
throws herself into his arms. He presses her convulsively to his
breast. Pause. ] You see! - You see! [To his brother. ] I know
that she deceives me! I press her in my arms
I press her in my arms- I right kill her
if I would — and she would deserve it - but I look at her - I
look at her and I cannot!
Teodora — Julian!
Julian - And he ? [Pointing to Ernest. ]
Ernest - Sir!
## p. 5110 (#282) ###########################################
5110
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
Julian — And I loved him! Be silent and come hither. [Ernest
advances. ] You see she is still mine. [Presses her closer. ]
Teodora - Yours - yours!
Julian - Do not act a part! Do not lie to me!
Mercedes - For God's sake! [Trying to calm him. ]
Severo - Julian!
Julian [to both] - Peace. Be silent. [To Teodora. ]
[To Teodora. ] I di-
vined your secret. I know that you love him. [Teodora and
Ernest try to protest, but he will not let them. ] Madrid knows it
too — all Madrid!
Ernest - No, father.
Teodora - No.
Julian — They would still deny it! When it is patent to all!
When I feel it in every fibre of my being, for the fever that
consumes me has illuminated my mind with its flame!
Ernest - All these fancied wrongs are the offspring of a fe-
vered imagination, of delirium! Hear me, sir -
Julian – You will lie to me again!
Ernest - She is innocent! [Pointing to Teodora. ]
Julian - I do not believe you.
Ernest — By my father's memory I swear it!
Julian - You profane his name and his memory by the oath.
Ernest — By my mother's last kiss —
Julian -- It is no longer on your brow.
Ernest — By all you hold most sacred, father, I swear it, I
swear it!
Julian — Let there be no oaths, no deceitful words, no pro-
tests.
Ernest — Well, then, what do you wish ?
Teodora — What do you wish ?
Julian - Deeds!
Ernest — What does he desire, Teodora ? What would he
have us do ?
Teodora — I do not know. What can we do, what can we do,
Ernest ?
Julian [watching them with instinctive distrust) - Ah, would
you deceive me to my very face? You are laying your plans
together, wretches! Do I not see it?
Ernest - These are the imaginings of fever.
Julian — Fever, yes! The fire of fever has consumed the
bandage with which you both blindfolded me, and at last I see
## p. 5111 (#283) ###########################################
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
5111
clearly! And now why do you gaze on each other? why, trai-
tors ? Why do your eyes shine, Ernest ? Speak. Their bright-
ness is not the brightness of tears. Come nearer
nearer still.
[Draws Ernest to him, bends his head, and so forces him to his knees.
Don Julian thus remains between Teodora, who stands at his side,
and Ernest, who kneels at his feet. Don Julian passes his hand
over Ernest's eyes. ]
Julian - I was right - It is not with tears! They are dry!
Ernest - Pardon! — Pardon!
Julian — You ask my pardon? Then you confess your guilt.
Ernest --- No!
Julian - Yes!
Ernest — It is not that!
Julian — Then look into each other's eyes before me.
Severo— Julian!
Mercedes - Sir!
Julian [to Teodora and Ernest] - You are afraid, then ? You
do not love each other like brother and sister, then? If you do,
prove it! Let your souls rise to your eyes and in my presence
mingle their reflection there, that so I may see, watching them
closely, if that brightness is the brightness of light or of fire.
You too, Teodora — I will have it so. Come — both; nearer still!
[Forces Teodora to kneel before him, draws their faces together, and com-
pels them to look at each other. )
Teodora (freeing herself by a violent effort] - Oh no!
Ernest [also tries to release himself, but Julian holds him in
his grasp] - I cannot!
Julian You love each other! You love each other! I see it
clearly! [To Ernest. Your life!
Ernest - Yes.
Julian— Your blood!
Ernest — All!
Julian [keeping him on his knees] — Remain there.
Teodora - Julian! [Restraining him. ]
Julian — Ah, you defend him, you defend him.
Teodora - Not for his sake.
Severo — In Heaven's name -
Julian [to Severo] - Silence! Bad friend! bad son! [Holding
him at his feet. ]
## p. 5112 (#284) ###########################################
5112
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
Ernest - Father!
Julian — Disloyal! Treacherous!
Ernest — No, father.
Julian — Thus do I brand you as a traitor on the cheek
now with my hand, soon with my sword! [With a supreme effort
he raises himself and strikes Ernest on the face. ]
Ernest [rises to his feet with a terrible cry and retreats, cover-
ing his face with his hands] – Ah!
Severo – Justice! [Stretching out his hand toward Ernest. ]
Teodora — My God! [Hides her face with her hands and falls
into a chair. ]
Mercedes [to Ernest, exculpating Julian]— It was delirium!
[These four exclamations in rapid succession. A moment of stupor; Julian
still standing and regarding Ernest, Mercedes and Serero trying to
calm him.
Julian — It was not delirium, it was chastisement, by Heaven!
What! Did you think your treachery would go unpunished, in-
grate!
Mercedes — Let us go, let us go!
Severo— Come, Julian.
Julian —Yes, I am going.
(Walks with difficulty toward his room, supported by Severo and Mercedes,
stopping from time to time to look back at Ernest and Teodora. ]
Mercedes - Quick, Severo!
Julian — Look at them, the traitors! It was justice! Was it
not justice ? So I believe.
Severo — For God's sake, Julian! For my sake!
Julian —You, you alone, of all the world, have loved me truly.
[Embraces him. ]
Severo-Yes, I alone!
Julian [stops near the door and looks at them again]— She
weeps for him
and does not follow me. She does not even
look at me; she does not see that I am dying - yes, dying!
Scvcro – Julian!
Julian - Wait, wait! [Pauses on the threshold. Dishonor
for dishonor! – Farewell, Ernest ! [Exeunt Julian, Severo, and
Mercedes. ]
Translation made for A Library of the World's Best Literature,' by Mary J.
Serrano
## p. 5113 (#285) ###########################################
5113
THE EDDAS
(ICELANDIC; NINTH TO THIRTEENTH CENTURIES)
BY WILLIAM H. CARPENTER
HE fanciful but still commonly believed meaning of the word
«Edda,” which even many of the dictionaries explain as
great-grandmother,” does not, after all, inaptly describe by
suggestion the general character of the work to which it is given.
The picture of an ancient dame at the fireside, telling tales and
legendary lore of times whose memory has all but disappeared, is a by
no means inappropriate personification, even if it has no other foun-
dation. In point of fact, Edda' as the title of a literary work has
nothing whatsoever to do with a great-grandmother, but means "the
art of poetry," "poetics"; and only by an extension of its original
use does it belong to all that is now included under it.
There are in reality two (Eddas,' which are in a certain sense con-
nected in subject-material, but yet in more ways than one are wholly
distinct. As originally applied, the name now used collectively un-
questionably belonged to the one, variously called, to distinguish it
from the other, the Younger Edda,' on account of the relative age
of its origin; the Prose Edda, since in its greater part it is written
in prose; and the (Snorra Edda,' the Edda of Snorri, from the author
of the work in its original form. In contradistinction to this, the
other is called the Elder Edda,' the Poetical Edda,' and from the
name of its once assumed author, the (Sæmundar Edda,' the Edda
of Sæmund.
Legitimately and by priority of usage, the name (Edda' belongs
to the first-named work alone. In the form in which it has ulti-
mately come down to us, this is the compilation of many hands at
widely different times; but in its most important and fundamental
parts it was undoubtedly either written by the Icelander Snorri him-
self, or under his immediate supervision.
Snorri Sturluson, its author, both from the part he played in
national politics in his day and from his literary legacy to the pres-
ent, is altogether the most remarkable man in the history of Iceland.
He was born in 1179, his father, Sturla Thordarson, being one of the
most powerful chieftains of the island. As was the custom of the
time, he was sent from home to be fostered, remaining away until his
## p. 5114 (#286) ###########################################
5114
THE EDDAS
foster-father's death, or until he was nineteen years old; his own father
in the meantime having died as well. He entered upon active life with
but little more than his own ambition to further him; but through his
brother's influence he made the following year a brilliant marriage,
and thus laid the foundation of his power, which thereafter steadily
grew. In 1215 Snorri was elected “Speaker of the Law) for the Com-
monwealth. At the expiration of his term of service in the summer
of 1218 he went to Norway, where he was received with extraordinary
hospitality both by King Hakon, who made him his liegeman, and by
the King's father-in-law, Earl Skuli. On the authority of some of the
sagas, he is said to have promised the latter at this time to use his
influence to bring Iceland under the dominion of Norway. Two years
later he returned to Iceland, taking back with him as a present from
the King a ship and many other valuable gifts. In 1222 he was again
made “Speaker of the Law,” which post he now held continuously
for nine years.
Iceland, as the Commonwealth neared its end, was torn apart by
the jealous feuds of the chieftains. A long series of complications
had aroused a bitter hostility to Snorri among his own relatives. In
1229, he found it necessary to ride to the Althing at the head of
eight hundred men. The matter did not then come to an open rup-
ture, but in 1239 it finally resulted in a regular battle, in which
Snorri's faction was worsted. To avoid consequences he immediately
after fled to Norway. Unwisely, he here gave his adherence to Earl
Skuli, now at odds with the King, and thereby incurred the active
displeasure of the latter; who, evidently fearing the use of Snorri's
power against him, forbade him by letter to return to Iceland. The
command was disregarded, however, and he presently was back again
in his native land. In 1240 Skuli was slain, and shortly afterward
King Hakon seems to have resolved upon Snorri's death. Using
Arni, a son-in-law of the Icelander, as a willing messenger, he sent a
letter to Gissur, another son-in-law, between whom and his father-in-
law an active feud was on foot, demanding that he send the latter a
prisoner to Norway, or if that were impossible, to kill him. Gissur
accordingly, with seventy men at his back, came to Snorri's farm-
stead Reykjaholt on the night of the 22d of September, 1241, when
the old chieftain was mercilessly slain in the cellar, where he had
taken refuge, by an unknown member of the band.
In spite of his political life, Snorri found opportunity for abundant
literary work. The Icelandic Annals' say that he compiled the
Edda' and many other books of historical learning, and Icelandic
sagas. Of these, however, only two have come down to us: his
“Edda' and the sagas of the Norse kings, known since the seven-
teenth century as the Heimskringla,' the best piece of independent
## p. 5115 (#287) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5115
prose literature, and in its bearing the most important series of sagas,
of all the number that are left to attest the phenomenal literary
activity of the Icelanders.
Snorri's Edda' — both as he, the foremost poet of his day, ori-
ginally conceived it, and with its subsequent additions— is a handbook
for poets, an Ars poetica, as its name itself signifies. That it served
its purpose as a recognized authority is discoverable from the refer-
ences to it in later Icelandic poets, where “rules of Edda,” “laws of
Edda,” «Eddic art,” and “Edda” are of frequent occurrence, as indi-
cating an ideal of poetical expression striven for by some and depre-
cated by others. As Snorri wrote it, the “Edda' was an admirably
arranged work in three parts: the Gylfaginning,' a compendium of
the old mythology, the knowledge of which in Snorri's day was fast
dying out; the "Skáldskaparmál,' a dictionary of poetical expressions,
many of which, contained in ancient poems, were no longer intelligi-
ble; and the Háttatal,' a poem or rather series of poems, exemplify-
ing in its own construction the use and kinds of metre. As it has
come down to us, it has been greatly added to and altered. A long
preface filled with the learning of the Middle Ages now introduces
the whole; the introductions and conclusions of the parts of the
work have been extended; several old poems have been included; a
Skáldatal, or list of skalds, has been added, as have also several
grammatical and rhetorical tracts, — some of which are of real his-
torical value.
With regard to matter and manner, the parts of Snorri's (Edda'
are as follows:- The Gylfaginning' (the Delusion of Gylfi) is a
series of tales told in answer to the questions of Gylfi, a legendary
Swedish king, who comes in disguise to the gods in Asgard to learn
the secret of their power. By way of illustration it quotes, among
other poetical citations, verses from several of the lays of the Elder
The Skáldskaparmál' (Poetical Diction) is also in great part
in the form of questions and answers.
It contains under separate
heads the periphrases, appellatives, and synonyms used in ancient
verse, which are often explained by long tales; and like the preced-
ing part, it also is illustrated by numerous poetical quotations here,
particularly from the skalds. The Háttatal? (Metres), finally, con-
sists of three poems: the first an encomium on the Norwegian king
Hakon, and the others on Earl Skuli. It exemplifies in not fewer than
one hundred and two strophes the use of as many kinds of metre,
many of them being accompanied by a prose commentary of greater
or less length.
That Snorri really wrote the work as here described seems to be
undoubted, although there is no trace of it as a whole until after his
death. At what period of his career it arose, can however merely be
## p. 5116 (#288) ###########################################
5116
THE EDDAS
conjectured. We only know with certainty the date of the Háttatal';
that may not unlikely have been the nucleus of the whole, which
falls undoubtedly between 1221 and 1223, shortly after the return
from the first visit to Norway. The oldest manuscript of the 'Snorra
Edda, — now in the University Library at Upsala, Sweden,- which
was written before 1300, assigns the work to him by name; and the
(Icelandic Annals,' as has already been stated, under the year of
his death corroborate the statement of his authorship of “the Edda"
that is, of course, of this particular (Edda,' for there can be no
thought of the other.
Snorri's poetical work outside of the “Edda' is represented only
by fugitive verses. An encomium that he wrote on the wife of Earl
Hakon has been lost. As a poet, Snorri undoubtedly stands upon a
lower plane than that which he occupies as a historian. He wrote at
a time when poetry was in its decline in Iceland; and neither in the
Háttatal' nor in his other verse, except in form and phraseology, of
which he had a wonderful control, does he rise to the level of a host
of earlier skalds. It is his critical knowledge of the old poetry of
Norway and Iceland that makes his Edda' of such unique value, and
particularly as no small part of the material accessible to him has
since been irrevocably lost. Snorri's 'Edda,' in its very conception, is
a wonderful book to have arisen at the time in which it was written,
and in no other part of the Germanic North in the thirteenth century
had such a thing been possible. It is not only, however, as a com-
mentary on old Norse poetry that it is remarkable. Its importance
as a compendium of the ancient Northern mythology is as great, - one
whose loss nothing could supplant. As a whole, it is of incalculable
value to the entire Germanic race for the light that it sheds upon
its early intellectual life, its ethics, and its religion.
The history of the Elder Edda' does not go back of the middle
of the seventeenth century. In 1643 the Icelandic bishop Brynjolf
Sveinsson sent as a present to Frederick III. of Denmark several old
Icelandic vellums, among which was the manuscript, dating, according
to the most general assignment, from not earlier than 1350; since
called the Codex Regius) of the “Edda. Not a word is known
about its previous history. As to when it came into the hands of
the bishop, or where it was discovered, he has given us no clew
whatsoever. He had nevertheless not only a name ready for it, but
a distinct theory of its authorship, for he wrote on the back of a
copy that he had made, “Edda Sæmundi Multiscii” (the Edda of
Sæmund the Wise).
Both Bishop Brynjolf's title for the work and his assumption as to
the name of its author – for both are apparently his — are open to
criticisin. The name Edda' belongs, as we have seen, to Snorri's
## p. 5117 (#289) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5117
(
book; to which it was given, if not by himself, certainly by one of
his immediate followers. It is not difficult, however, to explain its
new application, Snorri's Edda' cites, as has been mentioned, a
number of single strophes of ancient poems, many of which were
now found to be contained in Brynjolf's collection in a more or less
complete forin. This latter was, accordingly, not unnaturally looked
upon as the source of the material of Snorri's work; and since its
subject-matter too was the old poetry, it was consequently an earlier
Edda. Subsequently the title was extended to include a number
of poems in the same manner found elsewhere; and Edda' has since
been irretrievably the title both of the old Norse lays and of the old
Norse Ars poetica, to which it more appropriately belongs.
The attribution of the work to Sæmund was even less justifiable.
Sæmund Sigfusson was an Icelandic priest, who lived from 1056 to
1133 As a young man he studied in Germany, France, and Italy, but
came back to Iceland about 1076.
Afterward he settled down as
priest and chieftain, as was his father before him, on the paternal
estate Oddi in the south of Iceland, where he lived until his death.
Among his contemporaries and subsequently he was celebrated for his
great learning, the memory of which has even come down to the
present day in popular legend, where like learned men elsewhere he
is made an adept in the black art, and many widely spread tales of
supernatural power have clustered locally about his name. Sæmund
is the first writer among the Icelanders of whom we have any infor-
mation; and besides poems, he is reputed to have written some of the
best of the sagas and other historical works. It is not unlikely that
he did write parts of the history of Iceland and Norway in Latin,
but nothing has come down to us that is with certainty to be attrib-
uted to him. There is however no ancient reference whatsoever to
Sæmund as a poet, and it is but a legend that connects him in any
way with the Eddic lays. Internal criticism readily yields the fact
that they are not only of widely different date of origin, but are so
unlike in manner and in matter that it is idle to suppose a single
authorship at all. Nor is it possible that Sæmund, as Bishop Brynjolf
may have supposed was the case, even collected the lays contained
in this Edda. ' It is on the contrary to be assumed that the collec-
tion, of which Brynjolf's manuscript is but a copy, arose during the
latter half of the twelfth century, in the golden age of Icelandic
literature; a time when attention was most actively directed to the
past, when many of the sagas current hitherto only as oral tradition
were given a permanent form, and historical works of all sorts were
written and compiled.
The fact of the matter is, that here is a collection of old Norse
poems, the memory of whose real time and place of origin has
## p. 5118 (#290) ###########################################
5118
THE EDDAS
I 200.
disappeared, and whose authorship is unknown. Earlier commen-
tators supposed them to be of extreme age, and carried them back to
the very childhood of the race. Modern criticism has dispelled the
illusions of any such antiquity. It has been proved, furthermore, that
the oldest of the poems does not go back of the year 850, and that
the youngest may have been written as late as As to their
place of origin, although all have come to us from Iceland, by far
the greater number of them apparently originated in Norway; several
arose in the Norse colonies in Greenland; and although the whole
collection was made in Iceland, where alone many of them had been
remembered, but two are undoubtedly of distinct Icelandic parentage.
With regard to their authorship, results are less direct. Folk-songs
they are not in the proper sense of the word, in that in their present
shape they are the work of individual poets, who made over in versi-
fied form material already existing in oral tradition. Only a small
part of the ancient poetry that arose in this way has been preserved.
From prose interpolations which supply breaks in the continuity of
the lays in the Elder Edda' itself, as well as from isolated strophes
of old poems, else unknown, quoted in Snorri's “Edda,' and from the
citation and use of such poetical material in sagas and histories, –
we know for a certainty that many other lays in the ancient man-
ner once existed that have now been for all time lost.
Brynjolf's manuscript contains, whole or in part, as they are now
considered to exist, thirty-two poems.
From other sources six poems
have since been added, presumably as ancient as the lays of the
(Codex Regius,' so that the Elder Edda' is made up of thirty-eight
poems, not all of which, however, are even reasonably complete. In
form they are in alliterative verse, but three different metres being
represented, all the simplest and least artificial of the many kinds
used by the Norsemen. In content the lays fall under three heads:
they are mythic, in that they contain the myths of the old heathen
religion of the Norsemen; ethic, in that they embody their views of
life and rules of living; or they are heroic, in that they recount the
deeds of legendary heroes of the race.
The mythic poems of the Edda,' taken together, give us a toler-
ably complete picture of the Northern mythology in the Viking Age;
although some of them were not written until after the introduction
of Christianity, and are therefore open to the imputation of having
been to a greater or less extent affected by its teachings. The old-
est poems of the collection are mythical in character. In some of
them a particular god is the principal figure. Several of them, like
the Vafthrúdnismál,' the "Grímnismál,' Baldrs Draumar,' and the
(Hárbardsljód,' in this way are particularly devoted to Odin, whose
supremacy they show over all other beings, and whose part they
## p. 5119 (#291) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5119
describe in the government of the universe; in others, like the
(Hymiskvida,' the Thrymskvida,' and the Alvísmál,' Thor occu-
pies the prominent part in his strife with the giants; single ones have
other gods as their principal actors, like Skirnir, the messenger of
Frey, in the (Skírnismál, Loki, the god of destruction, in the Loka-
senna,' or Heimdall, the guardian of the rainbow bridge which
stretched from heaven to earth, in the Rigsthúla. ? A few of them
are both mythic and heroic at the same time, like the Lay of
Völund,' which tells of the fearful revenge of the mythical smith
upon the Swedish king; or the Song of Grotti, the magical mill,
which ground what was wished, first peace and gold for its owner,
King Frodi of Denmark, but later so much salt on the ship of
Mysing, who had conquered the king and taken it away, that all
together sunk into the sea, which henceforth was salt. By far the
greater of the mythic lays is the long but fragmentary poem “Vö-
luspá, the Prophecy of the Sibyl,” which is entitled to stand not
only at the head of the Eddic songs but of all old Germanic poetry,
for the beauty and dignity of its style, its admirable choice of
language, and the whole inherent worth of its material.
Its purpose
is to give a complete picture, although only in its most essential
features, of the whole heathen religion. It contains in this way the
entire history of the universe: the creation of the world out of chaos;
the origin of the giants, the dwarfs, of gods, and of men; and ends
with their destruction and ultimate renewal. The Sibyl is repre-
sented at the beginning in an assemblage of the whole human race,
whom she bids be silent in order that she may be heard. Many of
the strophes, even in translation, retain much of their inherent dig-
nity and poetic picturesqueness:
« There was in times of old
where Ymir dwelt,
nor land nor sea,
nor gelid waves;
earth existed not,
nor heaven above;
there was a chaotic chasm,
and verdure nowhere.
« Before Bur's sons
raised up heaven's vault,
they who the noble
mid-earth shaped,
the sun shone from the south
on the structure's rocks;
then was the earth begrown
with green herbage.
## p. 5120 (#292) ###########################################
5120
THE EDDAS
« The sun from the south,
the moon's companion,
her right hand cast
round the heavenly horses:
the sun knew not
where she had a dwelling:
the moon knew not
what power he possessed ;
the stars knew not
where they had station. ”
The gods thereupon gave the heavenly bodies names, and ordained
the times and seasons. This was the golden age of the young world,
before guilt and sin had come into it; a time of joy and beneficent
activity. A deed of violence proclaimed its approaching end, and
out of the slain giants' blood and bones the dwarfs were created.
The gods then made the first man and woman, for whom the Norns
established laws and allotted life and destiny. The use of gold was
introduced, and with it its attendant evils; the Valkyries come, and
the first warfare occurs in the world; the gods' stronghold is broken,
and Odin hurls his spear among the people. In rapid succession
follow the pictures of the awful ills that happen to gods and men,
which finally end in Ragnarök, the twilight of the gods, and the
conflagration of the universe. This however is not the end. The
Sibyl describes the reappearance of the green earth from the ocean.
The gods again come back, and a new golden age begins of peace
and happiness which shall endure forever.
Scarcely inferior to the Völuspá' for the importance of its
material is the ethical poem or rather collection of poems called
the Hávamál, the `Speech of the High One,' — that is, of Odin
the supreme god. The poem consists of sententious precepts and
epigrammatic sayings, which ultimately have been set together to
form a connected, though scarcely systematic, philosophy of life.
The whole is naturally attributed to Odin, the source of all wisdom,
the father and giver of all things. A part of the poem is the oldest
of all the Eddic lays, and the whole of it was at hand early in the
tenth century. Although many of its maxims show a primitive state
of society, as a whole they are the experience of a people more
advanced in culture than we are apt to fancy the Norsemen of the
Viking Age, who could nevertheless philosophize at home as sturdily
as they fought abroad. The morality of the Hávamál' is not
always our morality, but many of its maxims are eternally true. Its
keynote, again and again repeated, is the perishability of all earthly
possessions, and the endurance alone of fairly won fame :-
## p. 5121 (#293) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5121
« Cattle die,
kindred die,
we ourselves also die;
but the fair fame
never dies
of him who has earned it. ”
The heroic poems of the Elder Edda' recount as if belonging to a
single legendary cycle what originally belonged to two; the one of
Northern origin, the other the common property of the whole Ger-
manic race.
They are the Helgi poems on the one hand, and the
Völsung poems on the other. Together they tell the Story of the
North,” and come nearest to forming its greatest epic; it is the same
story which Wagner has set to music as immortal in his Ring
of the Nibelung,' — although the principal source of his material is
the prose Völsunga Saga' and not the 'Edda,'— and which in a form
much later than the Icelandic versions is also told in the German
Nibelungenlied.
The Helgi poems are only loosely connected with the story of
Sigurd the Völsung, and originally, but without doubt long before they
were committed to writing, had no connection with it at all. As
they now stand at the head of the heroic lays they are made to tell
the deeds of early members of the Völsung race; namely, of Helgi
Hjörvard's son, and Helgi Hundingsbane, who is said to have been
named after him. The latter the “Edda' makes the son of Sigmund
the Völsung, and consequently an elder brother of Sigurd, the hero
of the subsequent cycle of poems. To these last they are joined by
a prose piece ending with a description of Sigurd's parentage and
birth, and his own personality, which the poems themselves do not
give at length.
The remaining poems, fifteen in all, tell the old Germanic story of
Sigurd, the Siegfried of the Nibelungenlied, in the most ancient form
in which it has come down to us. As contained in the Edda' it is a
picture of great deeds, painted in powerful strokes which gain in
force by the absence of carefully elaborated detail.
In various ways
it is unfortunate that the lays composing the cycle are not more
closely consecutive; a difficulty that was felt by the earliest editors
of the manuscript, who endeavored to bring the poems and fragments
of poems then extant into some sort of connection, by the interpola-
tion of prose passages of various lengths wherever it was considered
necessary to the intelligibility of the story. As it is however there
is even yet, and cannot help but be, on account of the differences in
age, authorship, and place of origin of the lays, an inherent lack of
correlation. Many of the poems overlap, and parts of the action are
told several times and in varying form.
IX-321
## p. 5122 (#294) ###########################################
51 22
THE EDDAS
The Sigurd poems belong to a time prior to the introduction of
Christianity, as is incontestably proved by the genuine heathen spirit
that throughout pervades them. Their action is in the early days,
when the gods walked upon earth and mixed themselves in human
affairs. The real theme of the epic which the lays form is the
mythical golden hoard, and with it the fated ring of the Nibelung,
owned originally by the dwarf Andvari, from whom it is wrung by
the gods in their extremity. Andvari curses it to its possessors, and
it is cursed again by the gods, who are forced to deliver it up to
Hreidmar as blood-money for his son, whom Loki had slain. Fafnir
and Regin, the brothers of the slain Ottur, demand of their father
their share of the blood-fine, and when this is refused, Hreidmar is
killed while asleep, and Regin is driven away by Fafnir, who then
in the guise of a dragon lies upon the golden hoard to guard it.
Egged on by Regin, Sigurd slays Fafnir, and Regin also when he
learns that he intends treachery.
Sigurd gives the ring of Andvari, taken from the hoard, to the
Valkyrie Brynhild, as a pledge of betrothal; and when in the like-
ness of Gunnar the Nibelung, - having by wiles forgotten his former
vows, — he rides to her through the the ring is ven back to
him by Brynhild, who does not recognize him. The fatal ring is now
given by Sigurd to his wife, Gudrun the Nibelung, who in a moment
of anger shows it to Brynhild and taunts her with a recital of his
history. Brynhild cannot bear to see the happiness of Gudrun, and
does not rest until Sigurd is slain; and in slaying him, Guthorm, the
youngest of the Nibelungs, is killed, struck down by the sword of
the dying Sigurd. Brynhild, who will not outlive Sigurd, perishes on
her own sword. Gudrun is subsequently, against her will, wedded to
Atli the Hun. Gunnar and Högni, her brothers, the two remaining
Nibelungs, are invited to visit Atli, when they are straightway fallen
upon, their followers are killed, and they are bound. They are asked
to give up the golden hoard, whose hiding-place was known to them
alone; but Gunnar first demands the death of his brother Högni, and
then triumphantly tells Atli that the treasure is forever hidden in the
Rhine, - where, he only knows. He is cast into a serpent pit, and
dies. Atli's sons and Gudrun's are slain by their mother, changed by
the madness of grief at the slaughter of her brothers into an aven-
ging Fury, and Atli himself and his men are burned in the hall,
Carried then by the sea, into which she has hurled herself, Gudrun
comes to the land of King Jonakr, who makes her his wife. Swan-
hild, the daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, had been married to King
Jörmunrek, but coming under unjust suspicion, is trodden to death
by horses; and Gudrun dies of a broken heart, with a prayer to
Sigurd upon her lips. Last of all, the sons of Gudrun and Jonakr,
## p. 5123 (#295) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5123
who, incited by their mother, had been sent out to avenge their
sister, are stoned to death; and the curse only ceases to work when
there is nothing more left for it to wreak itself upon.
It is a story of great deeds, whose motives are the bitter passions
of that early time before the culture of Christianity had softened the
hearts of men. The psychological truthfulness of its characters,
however, in spite of their distance from to-day, is none the less un-
mistakable; and we watch the action with bated breath, as they are
hurried on by a fate as relentless and inevitable as any that ever
pursued an Edipus. They are not the indistinct and shadowy forms
which in many early literatures seem to grope out toward us from
the mists of the past, whose clinging heaviness the present is unable
wholly to dispel, but are human men and women who live and act;
and the principal characters, particularly, in this way become the
realities of history, instead of what they actually are, the creations
of legend and myth.
Many of the poems of the Edda' have been several times trans-
lated into English. Notable renderings are those by Dean Herbert,
and by William Morris in the translation of the Völsunga Saga,' by
Magnusson and Morris. The only metrical version of all the lays is
that of Benjamin Thorpe (London, 1866). A literal translation of the
entire extant old poetry of the North is contained in Vigfusson's
monumental work, the Corpus Poeticum Boreale. ' The 'Snorra
Edda' has been translated by G. W. Dasent (Stockholm, 1842); by
I. A. Blackwell in Northern Antiquities) (London, 1847); and by R.
B. Anderson (Chicago, 1880).
Umst. Carpenter,
FROM THE SNORRA EDDA)
THOR'S ADVENTURES ON HIS JOU'R
CRNEY TO THE LAND OF THE GIANTS
From Northern Antiquities): Bohn's Library (London), 1878
OF
Ne 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, when Thor
killed his goats, and after flaying them put them in the kettle.
When the flesh was sodden, he sat down with his fellow-traveler
to supper, and invited the peasant and his family to partake of
## p. 5124 (#296) ###########################################
5124
THE EDDAS
the repast.
The peasant's son was named Thjalfi, and his daugh-
ter Röska. Thor bade them throw all the bones into the goats'
skins, which were spread out near the fireplace; but young
Thjalfi broke one of the shank-bones with his knife, to come at
the marrow. Thor having passed the night in the cottage, rose
at the dawn of day; and when he was dressed took his mallet
Mjölnir, and lifting it up, consecrated the goats' skins, which he
had no sooner done than the two goats reassumed their wonted
form, only that one of them now limped in 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 pos-
sessed as an atonement for the offense 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 Röska, who became his bond-servants, and have fol-
lowed him ever since.
Leaving his goats with the peasant, Thor proceeded eastward
on the road to Jötunheim, 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
Röska. 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 en-
tered; 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
## p. 5125 (#297) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5125
a
might happen. A terrible groaning was heard during the night,
and at dawn of day Thor went out and observed lying near him
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 wal-
let,” 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 labor 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, awak-
ening, cried out:
## p. 5126 (#298) ###########################################
5126
THE EDDAS
What's the matter? did an acorn fall on my head ?
useless to ask you to witness formalities which the law requires,
but which you would only find irksome. The representative of
the law awaits me in yonder room; and in obedience to another
and a higher law, I am going now to renounce a fortune which
is not mine, and a name which neither I nor my family can con-
scientiously bear longer. After this is done I will return here,
and with my wife, and - and my daughter — and let no one
seek to dissuade me from my purpose, for it would be in vain
I will leave this house which has been for me in the past the
abode of love and happiness, but which is to-day the abode of
treachery and baseness. Gentlemen [to Dr. Tomás and Dr. Ber-
múde), lead the way; I beg you to do so.
[All slowly enter the study. On the threshold Lorenzo casts a last look at
Inez. ]
Translation made for (A Library of the World's Best Literature,' by Mary J.
Serrano
## p. 5109 (#281) ###########################################
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
5109
FROM THE GREAT GALEOTO)
[In the scenes which are here cited the poison of slander begins to work.
Don Severo, uttering the anonymous gossip of the world, has implanted in the
mind of his middle-aged brother Don Julian the first suspicion of the honor
of his young wife Teodora and the loyalty of his adopted son Ernest. Teo-
dora, who has been warned by Mercedes, Don Severo's wife, overhears the
accusing words of her brother-in-law, who is talking with her husband in an
inner apartment; and horror-struck, is about to fly from the room. ]
Julian [inside] - Let me go!
Mercedes (inside] - No, for Heaven's sake!
Julian — It is they. I will go!
Teodora (to Ernest] - Go! go!
Severo [to Ernest] - You shall give me satisfaction for this!
Ernest - I will not refuse it.
Enter Julian, pale and disordered; wounded and seemingly in a dying
condition, supported by Mercedes. Don Severo stations himself at the
right, Teodora and Ernest remain in the background.
Julian — Together! Where are they going? — Stop them!
They shun my presence! Traitors!
[He makes a movement as if to rush toward them, but his strength fails
him and he totters. ]
Severo [hurrying to his assistance] — No, no.
Julian — They deceived me — they lied to me! Wretches!
[ While he is speaking, Mercedes and Severo lead him to the arm-
chair on the right. ] There— look at them - she and Ernest!
Why are they together ?
Teodora and Ernest (separating] — No!
Julian - Why do they not come to me? Teodora!
Teodora (stretching out her arms, but without advancing] -
My Julian!
Julian - Here, on my heart ! [Teodora runs to Julian and
throws herself into his arms. He presses her convulsively to his
breast. Pause. ] You see! - You see! [To his brother. ] I know
that she deceives me! I press her in my arms
I press her in my arms- I right kill her
if I would — and she would deserve it - but I look at her - I
look at her and I cannot!
Teodora — Julian!
Julian - And he ? [Pointing to Ernest. ]
Ernest - Sir!
## p. 5110 (#282) ###########################################
5110
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
Julian — And I loved him! Be silent and come hither. [Ernest
advances. ] You see she is still mine. [Presses her closer. ]
Teodora - Yours - yours!
Julian - Do not act a part! Do not lie to me!
Mercedes - For God's sake! [Trying to calm him. ]
Severo - Julian!
Julian [to both] - Peace. Be silent. [To Teodora. ]
[To Teodora. ] I di-
vined your secret. I know that you love him. [Teodora and
Ernest try to protest, but he will not let them. ] Madrid knows it
too — all Madrid!
Ernest - No, father.
Teodora - No.
Julian — They would still deny it! When it is patent to all!
When I feel it in every fibre of my being, for the fever that
consumes me has illuminated my mind with its flame!
Ernest - All these fancied wrongs are the offspring of a fe-
vered imagination, of delirium! Hear me, sir -
Julian – You will lie to me again!
Ernest - She is innocent! [Pointing to Teodora. ]
Julian - I do not believe you.
Ernest — By my father's memory I swear it!
Julian - You profane his name and his memory by the oath.
Ernest — By my mother's last kiss —
Julian -- It is no longer on your brow.
Ernest — By all you hold most sacred, father, I swear it, I
swear it!
Julian — Let there be no oaths, no deceitful words, no pro-
tests.
Ernest — Well, then, what do you wish ?
Teodora — What do you wish ?
Julian - Deeds!
Ernest — What does he desire, Teodora ? What would he
have us do ?
Teodora — I do not know. What can we do, what can we do,
Ernest ?
Julian [watching them with instinctive distrust) - Ah, would
you deceive me to my very face? You are laying your plans
together, wretches! Do I not see it?
Ernest - These are the imaginings of fever.
Julian — Fever, yes! The fire of fever has consumed the
bandage with which you both blindfolded me, and at last I see
## p. 5111 (#283) ###########################################
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
5111
clearly! And now why do you gaze on each other? why, trai-
tors ? Why do your eyes shine, Ernest ? Speak. Their bright-
ness is not the brightness of tears. Come nearer
nearer still.
[Draws Ernest to him, bends his head, and so forces him to his knees.
Don Julian thus remains between Teodora, who stands at his side,
and Ernest, who kneels at his feet. Don Julian passes his hand
over Ernest's eyes. ]
Julian - I was right - It is not with tears! They are dry!
Ernest - Pardon! — Pardon!
Julian — You ask my pardon? Then you confess your guilt.
Ernest --- No!
Julian - Yes!
Ernest — It is not that!
Julian — Then look into each other's eyes before me.
Severo— Julian!
Mercedes - Sir!
Julian [to Teodora and Ernest] - You are afraid, then ? You
do not love each other like brother and sister, then? If you do,
prove it! Let your souls rise to your eyes and in my presence
mingle their reflection there, that so I may see, watching them
closely, if that brightness is the brightness of light or of fire.
You too, Teodora — I will have it so. Come — both; nearer still!
[Forces Teodora to kneel before him, draws their faces together, and com-
pels them to look at each other. )
Teodora (freeing herself by a violent effort] - Oh no!
Ernest [also tries to release himself, but Julian holds him in
his grasp] - I cannot!
Julian You love each other! You love each other! I see it
clearly! [To Ernest. Your life!
Ernest - Yes.
Julian— Your blood!
Ernest — All!
Julian [keeping him on his knees] — Remain there.
Teodora - Julian! [Restraining him. ]
Julian — Ah, you defend him, you defend him.
Teodora - Not for his sake.
Severo — In Heaven's name -
Julian [to Severo] - Silence! Bad friend! bad son! [Holding
him at his feet. ]
## p. 5112 (#284) ###########################################
5112
JOSÉ ECHEGARAY
Ernest - Father!
Julian — Disloyal! Treacherous!
Ernest — No, father.
Julian — Thus do I brand you as a traitor on the cheek
now with my hand, soon with my sword! [With a supreme effort
he raises himself and strikes Ernest on the face. ]
Ernest [rises to his feet with a terrible cry and retreats, cover-
ing his face with his hands] – Ah!
Severo – Justice! [Stretching out his hand toward Ernest. ]
Teodora — My God! [Hides her face with her hands and falls
into a chair. ]
Mercedes [to Ernest, exculpating Julian]— It was delirium!
[These four exclamations in rapid succession. A moment of stupor; Julian
still standing and regarding Ernest, Mercedes and Serero trying to
calm him.
Julian — It was not delirium, it was chastisement, by Heaven!
What! Did you think your treachery would go unpunished, in-
grate!
Mercedes — Let us go, let us go!
Severo— Come, Julian.
Julian —Yes, I am going.
(Walks with difficulty toward his room, supported by Severo and Mercedes,
stopping from time to time to look back at Ernest and Teodora. ]
Mercedes - Quick, Severo!
Julian — Look at them, the traitors! It was justice! Was it
not justice ? So I believe.
Severo — For God's sake, Julian! For my sake!
Julian —You, you alone, of all the world, have loved me truly.
[Embraces him. ]
Severo-Yes, I alone!
Julian [stops near the door and looks at them again]— She
weeps for him
and does not follow me. She does not even
look at me; she does not see that I am dying - yes, dying!
Scvcro – Julian!
Julian - Wait, wait! [Pauses on the threshold. Dishonor
for dishonor! – Farewell, Ernest ! [Exeunt Julian, Severo, and
Mercedes. ]
Translation made for A Library of the World's Best Literature,' by Mary J.
Serrano
## p. 5113 (#285) ###########################################
5113
THE EDDAS
(ICELANDIC; NINTH TO THIRTEENTH CENTURIES)
BY WILLIAM H. CARPENTER
HE fanciful but still commonly believed meaning of the word
«Edda,” which even many of the dictionaries explain as
great-grandmother,” does not, after all, inaptly describe by
suggestion the general character of the work to which it is given.
The picture of an ancient dame at the fireside, telling tales and
legendary lore of times whose memory has all but disappeared, is a by
no means inappropriate personification, even if it has no other foun-
dation. In point of fact, Edda' as the title of a literary work has
nothing whatsoever to do with a great-grandmother, but means "the
art of poetry," "poetics"; and only by an extension of its original
use does it belong to all that is now included under it.
There are in reality two (Eddas,' which are in a certain sense con-
nected in subject-material, but yet in more ways than one are wholly
distinct. As originally applied, the name now used collectively un-
questionably belonged to the one, variously called, to distinguish it
from the other, the Younger Edda,' on account of the relative age
of its origin; the Prose Edda, since in its greater part it is written
in prose; and the (Snorra Edda,' the Edda of Snorri, from the author
of the work in its original form. In contradistinction to this, the
other is called the Elder Edda,' the Poetical Edda,' and from the
name of its once assumed author, the (Sæmundar Edda,' the Edda
of Sæmund.
Legitimately and by priority of usage, the name (Edda' belongs
to the first-named work alone. In the form in which it has ulti-
mately come down to us, this is the compilation of many hands at
widely different times; but in its most important and fundamental
parts it was undoubtedly either written by the Icelander Snorri him-
self, or under his immediate supervision.
Snorri Sturluson, its author, both from the part he played in
national politics in his day and from his literary legacy to the pres-
ent, is altogether the most remarkable man in the history of Iceland.
He was born in 1179, his father, Sturla Thordarson, being one of the
most powerful chieftains of the island. As was the custom of the
time, he was sent from home to be fostered, remaining away until his
## p. 5114 (#286) ###########################################
5114
THE EDDAS
foster-father's death, or until he was nineteen years old; his own father
in the meantime having died as well. He entered upon active life with
but little more than his own ambition to further him; but through his
brother's influence he made the following year a brilliant marriage,
and thus laid the foundation of his power, which thereafter steadily
grew. In 1215 Snorri was elected “Speaker of the Law) for the Com-
monwealth. At the expiration of his term of service in the summer
of 1218 he went to Norway, where he was received with extraordinary
hospitality both by King Hakon, who made him his liegeman, and by
the King's father-in-law, Earl Skuli. On the authority of some of the
sagas, he is said to have promised the latter at this time to use his
influence to bring Iceland under the dominion of Norway. Two years
later he returned to Iceland, taking back with him as a present from
the King a ship and many other valuable gifts. In 1222 he was again
made “Speaker of the Law,” which post he now held continuously
for nine years.
Iceland, as the Commonwealth neared its end, was torn apart by
the jealous feuds of the chieftains. A long series of complications
had aroused a bitter hostility to Snorri among his own relatives. In
1229, he found it necessary to ride to the Althing at the head of
eight hundred men. The matter did not then come to an open rup-
ture, but in 1239 it finally resulted in a regular battle, in which
Snorri's faction was worsted. To avoid consequences he immediately
after fled to Norway. Unwisely, he here gave his adherence to Earl
Skuli, now at odds with the King, and thereby incurred the active
displeasure of the latter; who, evidently fearing the use of Snorri's
power against him, forbade him by letter to return to Iceland. The
command was disregarded, however, and he presently was back again
in his native land. In 1240 Skuli was slain, and shortly afterward
King Hakon seems to have resolved upon Snorri's death. Using
Arni, a son-in-law of the Icelander, as a willing messenger, he sent a
letter to Gissur, another son-in-law, between whom and his father-in-
law an active feud was on foot, demanding that he send the latter a
prisoner to Norway, or if that were impossible, to kill him. Gissur
accordingly, with seventy men at his back, came to Snorri's farm-
stead Reykjaholt on the night of the 22d of September, 1241, when
the old chieftain was mercilessly slain in the cellar, where he had
taken refuge, by an unknown member of the band.
In spite of his political life, Snorri found opportunity for abundant
literary work. The Icelandic Annals' say that he compiled the
Edda' and many other books of historical learning, and Icelandic
sagas. Of these, however, only two have come down to us: his
“Edda' and the sagas of the Norse kings, known since the seven-
teenth century as the Heimskringla,' the best piece of independent
## p. 5115 (#287) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5115
prose literature, and in its bearing the most important series of sagas,
of all the number that are left to attest the phenomenal literary
activity of the Icelanders.
Snorri's Edda' — both as he, the foremost poet of his day, ori-
ginally conceived it, and with its subsequent additions— is a handbook
for poets, an Ars poetica, as its name itself signifies. That it served
its purpose as a recognized authority is discoverable from the refer-
ences to it in later Icelandic poets, where “rules of Edda,” “laws of
Edda,” «Eddic art,” and “Edda” are of frequent occurrence, as indi-
cating an ideal of poetical expression striven for by some and depre-
cated by others. As Snorri wrote it, the “Edda' was an admirably
arranged work in three parts: the Gylfaginning,' a compendium of
the old mythology, the knowledge of which in Snorri's day was fast
dying out; the "Skáldskaparmál,' a dictionary of poetical expressions,
many of which, contained in ancient poems, were no longer intelligi-
ble; and the Háttatal,' a poem or rather series of poems, exemplify-
ing in its own construction the use and kinds of metre. As it has
come down to us, it has been greatly added to and altered. A long
preface filled with the learning of the Middle Ages now introduces
the whole; the introductions and conclusions of the parts of the
work have been extended; several old poems have been included; a
Skáldatal, or list of skalds, has been added, as have also several
grammatical and rhetorical tracts, — some of which are of real his-
torical value.
With regard to matter and manner, the parts of Snorri's (Edda'
are as follows:- The Gylfaginning' (the Delusion of Gylfi) is a
series of tales told in answer to the questions of Gylfi, a legendary
Swedish king, who comes in disguise to the gods in Asgard to learn
the secret of their power. By way of illustration it quotes, among
other poetical citations, verses from several of the lays of the Elder
The Skáldskaparmál' (Poetical Diction) is also in great part
in the form of questions and answers.
It contains under separate
heads the periphrases, appellatives, and synonyms used in ancient
verse, which are often explained by long tales; and like the preced-
ing part, it also is illustrated by numerous poetical quotations here,
particularly from the skalds. The Háttatal? (Metres), finally, con-
sists of three poems: the first an encomium on the Norwegian king
Hakon, and the others on Earl Skuli. It exemplifies in not fewer than
one hundred and two strophes the use of as many kinds of metre,
many of them being accompanied by a prose commentary of greater
or less length.
That Snorri really wrote the work as here described seems to be
undoubted, although there is no trace of it as a whole until after his
death. At what period of his career it arose, can however merely be
## p. 5116 (#288) ###########################################
5116
THE EDDAS
conjectured. We only know with certainty the date of the Háttatal';
that may not unlikely have been the nucleus of the whole, which
falls undoubtedly between 1221 and 1223, shortly after the return
from the first visit to Norway. The oldest manuscript of the 'Snorra
Edda, — now in the University Library at Upsala, Sweden,- which
was written before 1300, assigns the work to him by name; and the
(Icelandic Annals,' as has already been stated, under the year of
his death corroborate the statement of his authorship of “the Edda"
that is, of course, of this particular (Edda,' for there can be no
thought of the other.
Snorri's poetical work outside of the “Edda' is represented only
by fugitive verses. An encomium that he wrote on the wife of Earl
Hakon has been lost. As a poet, Snorri undoubtedly stands upon a
lower plane than that which he occupies as a historian. He wrote at
a time when poetry was in its decline in Iceland; and neither in the
Háttatal' nor in his other verse, except in form and phraseology, of
which he had a wonderful control, does he rise to the level of a host
of earlier skalds. It is his critical knowledge of the old poetry of
Norway and Iceland that makes his Edda' of such unique value, and
particularly as no small part of the material accessible to him has
since been irrevocably lost. Snorri's 'Edda,' in its very conception, is
a wonderful book to have arisen at the time in which it was written,
and in no other part of the Germanic North in the thirteenth century
had such a thing been possible. It is not only, however, as a com-
mentary on old Norse poetry that it is remarkable. Its importance
as a compendium of the ancient Northern mythology is as great, - one
whose loss nothing could supplant. As a whole, it is of incalculable
value to the entire Germanic race for the light that it sheds upon
its early intellectual life, its ethics, and its religion.
The history of the Elder Edda' does not go back of the middle
of the seventeenth century. In 1643 the Icelandic bishop Brynjolf
Sveinsson sent as a present to Frederick III. of Denmark several old
Icelandic vellums, among which was the manuscript, dating, according
to the most general assignment, from not earlier than 1350; since
called the Codex Regius) of the “Edda. Not a word is known
about its previous history. As to when it came into the hands of
the bishop, or where it was discovered, he has given us no clew
whatsoever. He had nevertheless not only a name ready for it, but
a distinct theory of its authorship, for he wrote on the back of a
copy that he had made, “Edda Sæmundi Multiscii” (the Edda of
Sæmund the Wise).
Both Bishop Brynjolf's title for the work and his assumption as to
the name of its author – for both are apparently his — are open to
criticisin. The name Edda' belongs, as we have seen, to Snorri's
## p. 5117 (#289) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5117
(
book; to which it was given, if not by himself, certainly by one of
his immediate followers. It is not difficult, however, to explain its
new application, Snorri's Edda' cites, as has been mentioned, a
number of single strophes of ancient poems, many of which were
now found to be contained in Brynjolf's collection in a more or less
complete forin. This latter was, accordingly, not unnaturally looked
upon as the source of the material of Snorri's work; and since its
subject-matter too was the old poetry, it was consequently an earlier
Edda. Subsequently the title was extended to include a number
of poems in the same manner found elsewhere; and Edda' has since
been irretrievably the title both of the old Norse lays and of the old
Norse Ars poetica, to which it more appropriately belongs.
The attribution of the work to Sæmund was even less justifiable.
Sæmund Sigfusson was an Icelandic priest, who lived from 1056 to
1133 As a young man he studied in Germany, France, and Italy, but
came back to Iceland about 1076.
Afterward he settled down as
priest and chieftain, as was his father before him, on the paternal
estate Oddi in the south of Iceland, where he lived until his death.
Among his contemporaries and subsequently he was celebrated for his
great learning, the memory of which has even come down to the
present day in popular legend, where like learned men elsewhere he
is made an adept in the black art, and many widely spread tales of
supernatural power have clustered locally about his name. Sæmund
is the first writer among the Icelanders of whom we have any infor-
mation; and besides poems, he is reputed to have written some of the
best of the sagas and other historical works. It is not unlikely that
he did write parts of the history of Iceland and Norway in Latin,
but nothing has come down to us that is with certainty to be attrib-
uted to him. There is however no ancient reference whatsoever to
Sæmund as a poet, and it is but a legend that connects him in any
way with the Eddic lays. Internal criticism readily yields the fact
that they are not only of widely different date of origin, but are so
unlike in manner and in matter that it is idle to suppose a single
authorship at all. Nor is it possible that Sæmund, as Bishop Brynjolf
may have supposed was the case, even collected the lays contained
in this Edda. ' It is on the contrary to be assumed that the collec-
tion, of which Brynjolf's manuscript is but a copy, arose during the
latter half of the twelfth century, in the golden age of Icelandic
literature; a time when attention was most actively directed to the
past, when many of the sagas current hitherto only as oral tradition
were given a permanent form, and historical works of all sorts were
written and compiled.
The fact of the matter is, that here is a collection of old Norse
poems, the memory of whose real time and place of origin has
## p. 5118 (#290) ###########################################
5118
THE EDDAS
I 200.
disappeared, and whose authorship is unknown. Earlier commen-
tators supposed them to be of extreme age, and carried them back to
the very childhood of the race. Modern criticism has dispelled the
illusions of any such antiquity. It has been proved, furthermore, that
the oldest of the poems does not go back of the year 850, and that
the youngest may have been written as late as As to their
place of origin, although all have come to us from Iceland, by far
the greater number of them apparently originated in Norway; several
arose in the Norse colonies in Greenland; and although the whole
collection was made in Iceland, where alone many of them had been
remembered, but two are undoubtedly of distinct Icelandic parentage.
With regard to their authorship, results are less direct. Folk-songs
they are not in the proper sense of the word, in that in their present
shape they are the work of individual poets, who made over in versi-
fied form material already existing in oral tradition. Only a small
part of the ancient poetry that arose in this way has been preserved.
From prose interpolations which supply breaks in the continuity of
the lays in the Elder Edda' itself, as well as from isolated strophes
of old poems, else unknown, quoted in Snorri's “Edda,' and from the
citation and use of such poetical material in sagas and histories, –
we know for a certainty that many other lays in the ancient man-
ner once existed that have now been for all time lost.
Brynjolf's manuscript contains, whole or in part, as they are now
considered to exist, thirty-two poems.
From other sources six poems
have since been added, presumably as ancient as the lays of the
(Codex Regius,' so that the Elder Edda' is made up of thirty-eight
poems, not all of which, however, are even reasonably complete. In
form they are in alliterative verse, but three different metres being
represented, all the simplest and least artificial of the many kinds
used by the Norsemen. In content the lays fall under three heads:
they are mythic, in that they contain the myths of the old heathen
religion of the Norsemen; ethic, in that they embody their views of
life and rules of living; or they are heroic, in that they recount the
deeds of legendary heroes of the race.
The mythic poems of the Edda,' taken together, give us a toler-
ably complete picture of the Northern mythology in the Viking Age;
although some of them were not written until after the introduction
of Christianity, and are therefore open to the imputation of having
been to a greater or less extent affected by its teachings. The old-
est poems of the collection are mythical in character. In some of
them a particular god is the principal figure. Several of them, like
the Vafthrúdnismál,' the "Grímnismál,' Baldrs Draumar,' and the
(Hárbardsljód,' in this way are particularly devoted to Odin, whose
supremacy they show over all other beings, and whose part they
## p. 5119 (#291) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5119
describe in the government of the universe; in others, like the
(Hymiskvida,' the Thrymskvida,' and the Alvísmál,' Thor occu-
pies the prominent part in his strife with the giants; single ones have
other gods as their principal actors, like Skirnir, the messenger of
Frey, in the (Skírnismál, Loki, the god of destruction, in the Loka-
senna,' or Heimdall, the guardian of the rainbow bridge which
stretched from heaven to earth, in the Rigsthúla. ? A few of them
are both mythic and heroic at the same time, like the Lay of
Völund,' which tells of the fearful revenge of the mythical smith
upon the Swedish king; or the Song of Grotti, the magical mill,
which ground what was wished, first peace and gold for its owner,
King Frodi of Denmark, but later so much salt on the ship of
Mysing, who had conquered the king and taken it away, that all
together sunk into the sea, which henceforth was salt. By far the
greater of the mythic lays is the long but fragmentary poem “Vö-
luspá, the Prophecy of the Sibyl,” which is entitled to stand not
only at the head of the Eddic songs but of all old Germanic poetry,
for the beauty and dignity of its style, its admirable choice of
language, and the whole inherent worth of its material.
Its purpose
is to give a complete picture, although only in its most essential
features, of the whole heathen religion. It contains in this way the
entire history of the universe: the creation of the world out of chaos;
the origin of the giants, the dwarfs, of gods, and of men; and ends
with their destruction and ultimate renewal. The Sibyl is repre-
sented at the beginning in an assemblage of the whole human race,
whom she bids be silent in order that she may be heard. Many of
the strophes, even in translation, retain much of their inherent dig-
nity and poetic picturesqueness:
« There was in times of old
where Ymir dwelt,
nor land nor sea,
nor gelid waves;
earth existed not,
nor heaven above;
there was a chaotic chasm,
and verdure nowhere.
« Before Bur's sons
raised up heaven's vault,
they who the noble
mid-earth shaped,
the sun shone from the south
on the structure's rocks;
then was the earth begrown
with green herbage.
## p. 5120 (#292) ###########################################
5120
THE EDDAS
« The sun from the south,
the moon's companion,
her right hand cast
round the heavenly horses:
the sun knew not
where she had a dwelling:
the moon knew not
what power he possessed ;
the stars knew not
where they had station. ”
The gods thereupon gave the heavenly bodies names, and ordained
the times and seasons. This was the golden age of the young world,
before guilt and sin had come into it; a time of joy and beneficent
activity. A deed of violence proclaimed its approaching end, and
out of the slain giants' blood and bones the dwarfs were created.
The gods then made the first man and woman, for whom the Norns
established laws and allotted life and destiny. The use of gold was
introduced, and with it its attendant evils; the Valkyries come, and
the first warfare occurs in the world; the gods' stronghold is broken,
and Odin hurls his spear among the people. In rapid succession
follow the pictures of the awful ills that happen to gods and men,
which finally end in Ragnarök, the twilight of the gods, and the
conflagration of the universe. This however is not the end. The
Sibyl describes the reappearance of the green earth from the ocean.
The gods again come back, and a new golden age begins of peace
and happiness which shall endure forever.
Scarcely inferior to the Völuspá' for the importance of its
material is the ethical poem or rather collection of poems called
the Hávamál, the `Speech of the High One,' — that is, of Odin
the supreme god. The poem consists of sententious precepts and
epigrammatic sayings, which ultimately have been set together to
form a connected, though scarcely systematic, philosophy of life.
The whole is naturally attributed to Odin, the source of all wisdom,
the father and giver of all things. A part of the poem is the oldest
of all the Eddic lays, and the whole of it was at hand early in the
tenth century. Although many of its maxims show a primitive state
of society, as a whole they are the experience of a people more
advanced in culture than we are apt to fancy the Norsemen of the
Viking Age, who could nevertheless philosophize at home as sturdily
as they fought abroad. The morality of the Hávamál' is not
always our morality, but many of its maxims are eternally true. Its
keynote, again and again repeated, is the perishability of all earthly
possessions, and the endurance alone of fairly won fame :-
## p. 5121 (#293) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5121
« Cattle die,
kindred die,
we ourselves also die;
but the fair fame
never dies
of him who has earned it. ”
The heroic poems of the Elder Edda' recount as if belonging to a
single legendary cycle what originally belonged to two; the one of
Northern origin, the other the common property of the whole Ger-
manic race.
They are the Helgi poems on the one hand, and the
Völsung poems on the other. Together they tell the Story of the
North,” and come nearest to forming its greatest epic; it is the same
story which Wagner has set to music as immortal in his Ring
of the Nibelung,' — although the principal source of his material is
the prose Völsunga Saga' and not the 'Edda,'— and which in a form
much later than the Icelandic versions is also told in the German
Nibelungenlied.
The Helgi poems are only loosely connected with the story of
Sigurd the Völsung, and originally, but without doubt long before they
were committed to writing, had no connection with it at all. As
they now stand at the head of the heroic lays they are made to tell
the deeds of early members of the Völsung race; namely, of Helgi
Hjörvard's son, and Helgi Hundingsbane, who is said to have been
named after him. The latter the “Edda' makes the son of Sigmund
the Völsung, and consequently an elder brother of Sigurd, the hero
of the subsequent cycle of poems. To these last they are joined by
a prose piece ending with a description of Sigurd's parentage and
birth, and his own personality, which the poems themselves do not
give at length.
The remaining poems, fifteen in all, tell the old Germanic story of
Sigurd, the Siegfried of the Nibelungenlied, in the most ancient form
in which it has come down to us. As contained in the Edda' it is a
picture of great deeds, painted in powerful strokes which gain in
force by the absence of carefully elaborated detail.
In various ways
it is unfortunate that the lays composing the cycle are not more
closely consecutive; a difficulty that was felt by the earliest editors
of the manuscript, who endeavored to bring the poems and fragments
of poems then extant into some sort of connection, by the interpola-
tion of prose passages of various lengths wherever it was considered
necessary to the intelligibility of the story. As it is however there
is even yet, and cannot help but be, on account of the differences in
age, authorship, and place of origin of the lays, an inherent lack of
correlation. Many of the poems overlap, and parts of the action are
told several times and in varying form.
IX-321
## p. 5122 (#294) ###########################################
51 22
THE EDDAS
The Sigurd poems belong to a time prior to the introduction of
Christianity, as is incontestably proved by the genuine heathen spirit
that throughout pervades them. Their action is in the early days,
when the gods walked upon earth and mixed themselves in human
affairs. The real theme of the epic which the lays form is the
mythical golden hoard, and with it the fated ring of the Nibelung,
owned originally by the dwarf Andvari, from whom it is wrung by
the gods in their extremity. Andvari curses it to its possessors, and
it is cursed again by the gods, who are forced to deliver it up to
Hreidmar as blood-money for his son, whom Loki had slain. Fafnir
and Regin, the brothers of the slain Ottur, demand of their father
their share of the blood-fine, and when this is refused, Hreidmar is
killed while asleep, and Regin is driven away by Fafnir, who then
in the guise of a dragon lies upon the golden hoard to guard it.
Egged on by Regin, Sigurd slays Fafnir, and Regin also when he
learns that he intends treachery.
Sigurd gives the ring of Andvari, taken from the hoard, to the
Valkyrie Brynhild, as a pledge of betrothal; and when in the like-
ness of Gunnar the Nibelung, - having by wiles forgotten his former
vows, — he rides to her through the the ring is ven back to
him by Brynhild, who does not recognize him. The fatal ring is now
given by Sigurd to his wife, Gudrun the Nibelung, who in a moment
of anger shows it to Brynhild and taunts her with a recital of his
history. Brynhild cannot bear to see the happiness of Gudrun, and
does not rest until Sigurd is slain; and in slaying him, Guthorm, the
youngest of the Nibelungs, is killed, struck down by the sword of
the dying Sigurd. Brynhild, who will not outlive Sigurd, perishes on
her own sword. Gudrun is subsequently, against her will, wedded to
Atli the Hun. Gunnar and Högni, her brothers, the two remaining
Nibelungs, are invited to visit Atli, when they are straightway fallen
upon, their followers are killed, and they are bound. They are asked
to give up the golden hoard, whose hiding-place was known to them
alone; but Gunnar first demands the death of his brother Högni, and
then triumphantly tells Atli that the treasure is forever hidden in the
Rhine, - where, he only knows. He is cast into a serpent pit, and
dies. Atli's sons and Gudrun's are slain by their mother, changed by
the madness of grief at the slaughter of her brothers into an aven-
ging Fury, and Atli himself and his men are burned in the hall,
Carried then by the sea, into which she has hurled herself, Gudrun
comes to the land of King Jonakr, who makes her his wife. Swan-
hild, the daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, had been married to King
Jörmunrek, but coming under unjust suspicion, is trodden to death
by horses; and Gudrun dies of a broken heart, with a prayer to
Sigurd upon her lips. Last of all, the sons of Gudrun and Jonakr,
## p. 5123 (#295) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5123
who, incited by their mother, had been sent out to avenge their
sister, are stoned to death; and the curse only ceases to work when
there is nothing more left for it to wreak itself upon.
It is a story of great deeds, whose motives are the bitter passions
of that early time before the culture of Christianity had softened the
hearts of men. The psychological truthfulness of its characters,
however, in spite of their distance from to-day, is none the less un-
mistakable; and we watch the action with bated breath, as they are
hurried on by a fate as relentless and inevitable as any that ever
pursued an Edipus. They are not the indistinct and shadowy forms
which in many early literatures seem to grope out toward us from
the mists of the past, whose clinging heaviness the present is unable
wholly to dispel, but are human men and women who live and act;
and the principal characters, particularly, in this way become the
realities of history, instead of what they actually are, the creations
of legend and myth.
Many of the poems of the Edda' have been several times trans-
lated into English. Notable renderings are those by Dean Herbert,
and by William Morris in the translation of the Völsunga Saga,' by
Magnusson and Morris. The only metrical version of all the lays is
that of Benjamin Thorpe (London, 1866). A literal translation of the
entire extant old poetry of the North is contained in Vigfusson's
monumental work, the Corpus Poeticum Boreale. ' The 'Snorra
Edda' has been translated by G. W. Dasent (Stockholm, 1842); by
I. A. Blackwell in Northern Antiquities) (London, 1847); and by R.
B. Anderson (Chicago, 1880).
Umst. Carpenter,
FROM THE SNORRA EDDA)
THOR'S ADVENTURES ON HIS JOU'R
CRNEY TO THE LAND OF THE GIANTS
From Northern Antiquities): Bohn's Library (London), 1878
OF
Ne 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, when Thor
killed his goats, and after flaying them put them in the kettle.
When the flesh was sodden, he sat down with his fellow-traveler
to supper, and invited the peasant and his family to partake of
## p. 5124 (#296) ###########################################
5124
THE EDDAS
the repast.
The peasant's son was named Thjalfi, and his daugh-
ter Röska. Thor bade them throw all the bones into the goats'
skins, which were spread out near the fireplace; but young
Thjalfi broke one of the shank-bones with his knife, to come at
the marrow. Thor having passed the night in the cottage, rose
at the dawn of day; and when he was dressed took his mallet
Mjölnir, and lifting it up, consecrated the goats' skins, which he
had no sooner done than the two goats reassumed their wonted
form, only that one of them now limped in 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 pos-
sessed as an atonement for the offense 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 Röska, who became his bond-servants, and have fol-
lowed him ever since.
Leaving his goats with the peasant, Thor proceeded eastward
on the road to Jötunheim, 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
Röska. 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 en-
tered; 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
## p. 5125 (#297) ###########################################
THE EDDAS
5125
a
might happen. A terrible groaning was heard during the night,
and at dawn of day Thor went out and observed lying near him
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 wal-
let,” 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 labor 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, awak-
ening, cried out:
## p. 5126 (#298) ###########################################
5126
THE EDDAS
What's the matter? did an acorn fall on my head ?
