Already the hard edges and the spear-points have cleft my shield in splinters, and the ravening steel has rent and devoured its portions bit by bit in the battle.The first of these things testifies to and avows itself.Seeing is better than telling, eyesight faithfuller than hearing.For of the broken shield only the fastenings remain, and the boss, pierced and broken in its circle, is all left me.And now, Bjarke, thou art strong, though thou hast come forth more tardily than was right, and thou retrievest by bravery the loss caused by thy loitering."But Bjarke said: "Art thou not yet weary of girding at me and goading me with taunts? Many things often cause delay.The reason why I tarried was the sword in my path, which the Swedish foe whirled against my breast with mighty effort.Nor did the guider of the hilt drive home the sword with little might; for though the body was armed he smote it as far as one may when it is bare or defenceless; he pierced the armour of hard steel like yielding waters; nor could the rough, heavy breastplate give me any help.
"But where now is he that is commonly called Odin, the mighty in battle, content ever with a single eye? If thou see him anywhere, Rute, tell me."Rute replied: "Bring thine eye closer and look under my arm akimbo: thou must first hallow thine eyes with the victorious sign, if thou wilt safely know the War-god face to face."Then said Bjarke: "If I may look on the awful husband of Frigg, howsoever he be covered with his white shield, and guide his tall steed, he shall in no wise go safe out of Leire; it is lawful to lay low in war the war-waging god.Let a noble death come to those that fall before the eyes of their king.While life lasts, let us strive for the power to die honourably and to reap a noble end by our deeds.I will die overpowered near the head of my slain captain, and at his feet thou also shalt slip on thy face in death, so that whoso scans the piled corpses may see in what wise we rate the gold our lord gave us.We shall be the prey of ravens and a morsel for hungry eagles, and the ravening bird shall feast on the banquet of our body.Thus should fall princes dauntless in war, clasping their famous king in a common death."I have composed this particular series of harangues in metrical shape, because the gist of the same thoughts is found arranged in a short form in a certain ancient Danish song, which is repeated by heart by many conversant with antiquity.
Now, it came to pass that the Goths gained the victory and all the array of Rolf fell, no man save Wigg remaining out of all those warriors.For the soldiers of the king paid this homage to his noble virtues in that battle, that his slaying inspired in all the longing to meet their end, and union with him in death was accounted sweeter than life.
HIARTUAR rejoiced, and had the tables spread for feasting, bidding the banquet come after the battle, and fain to honour his triumph with a carouse.And when he was well filled therewith, he said that it was matter of great marvel to him, that out of all the army of Rolf no man had been found to take thought for his life by flight or fraud.Hence, he said, it had been manifest with what zealous loyalty they had kept their love for their king, because they had not endured to survive him.He also blamed his ill fortune, because it had not suffered the homage of a single one of them to be left for himself: protesting that he would very willingly accept the service of such men.Then Wigg came forth, and Hiartuar, as though he were congratulating him on the gift, asked him if he were willing to fight for him.Wigg assenting, he drew and proferred him a sword.But Wigg refused the point, and asked for the hilt, saying first that this had been Rolf's custom when he handed forth a sword to his soldiers.
For in old time those who were about to put themselves in dependence on the king used to promise fealty by touching the hilt of the sword.And in this wise Wigg clasped the hilt, and then drove the point through Hiartuar; thus gaining the vengeance which he had promised Rolf to accomplish for him.When he had done this, and the soldiers of Hiartuar rushed at him, he exposed his body to them eagerly and exultantly, shouting that he felt more joy in the slaughter of the tyrant than bitterness at his own.Thus the feast was turned into a funeral, and the wailing of burial followed the joy of victory.Glorious, ever memorable hero, who valiantly kept his vow, and voluntarily courted death, staining with blood by his service the tables of the despot! For the lively valour of his spirit feared not the hands of the slaughterers, when he had once beheld the place where Rolf had been wont to live bespattered with the blood of his slayer.Thus the royalty of Hiartuar was won and ended on the same day.For whatsoever is gotten with guile melts away in like fashion as it is sought, and no fruits are long-lasting that have been won by treachery and crime.Hence it came to pass that the Swedes, who had a little before been the possessors of Denmark, came to lose even their own liberty.For they were straightway cut off by the Zealanders, and paid righteous atonement to the injured shades of Rolf.In this way does stern fortune commonly avenge the works of craft and cunning.
BOOK THREE.
After Hiartuar, HOTHER, whom I mentioned above, the brother of Athisl, and also the fosterling of King Gewar, became sovereign of both realms.It will be easier to relate his times if I begin with the beginning of his life.For if the earlier years of his career are not doomed to silence, the latter ones can be more fully and fairly narrated.
When Helgi had slain Hodbrodd, his son Hother passed the length of his boyhood under the tutelage of King Gewar.While a stripling, he excelled in strength of body all his foster-brethren and compeers.Moreover, he was gifted with many accomplishments of mind.He was very skilled in swimming and archery, and also with the gloves; and further was as nimble as such a youth could be, his training being equal to his strength.
