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‹Better GutenbergThe Gods of the NorthCanto II — Spells upon the heath · 6 of 35Contents›

The Gods of the North

by Adam Oehlenschläger

6 of 35 · Contents · Download EPUB

Canto II Spells upon the heath

As Thor now sat with watchful ear,
  In pensiveness profound,
A startling din he chanced to hear,
  ’Twas like the earthquake’s sound.
All nature shook; the billows’ roar
  By this was deafen’d quite:
Thor grasp’d his hammer, nor forbore
  His belt to fasten tight.

Now starting up, the Asa spake
  Aloud with accent shrill:
“Who is it dares this noise to make,
  When Hlorrida lies still?”
His choler he could scarce restrain,
  He fain would kill and slay;
And much it gave the hero pain
  No foe stood in his way.

A comet now with awful sweep
  Shot through the sky blood-red,
And, stretch’d out on the earth asleep,
  A Jotun vast display’d!
His snoring made the mountains shake,
  So frightful was the sound;
He seem’d as long as the boa snake
  On Java’s swampy ground.

When Thor’s eye to the spot was turn’d,
  He saw the giant move,
And on the goblin’s skull he burn’d
  His hammer’s strength to prove.
Of this the giant seem’d aware,
  He started up in haste:
The sight all mortal eyes would scare,
  Of such dimensions vast.

He view’d his foes with fearful scowl,
  He shook his shoulders broad;
His voice was like the ice-bear’s growl,
  Vex’d by the hunter’s goad;
Each of his nerves like brass was strong,
  And hard and tough his skin;
He bore a pole of iron long,
  Instead of javelin.

Now Thor to scrutinize his foe
  With cautious look began;
Then burst he forth: “Say, who art thou,
  Thou strange, wild-looking man?”
Then he: “From Goblin-land20 I come,
  All weapons’ force I mock,
For who shall Skrymur overcome,
  Who serves great Utgard-Lok?

“Thy name I ask not, and though now
  I first behold thy face,
The features of our bitt’rest foe
  In thine, methinks, I trace.
And though the Asar with applause
  Thy merits loud proclaim,
We giants spurn their boasted laws,
  And laugh to scorn their fame.

“The trifling noise my snoring made
  Hath caused thee much alarm;
With helm and plume upon thy head
  Thou canst not reach my arm.
Upon my palm I’d hold thee high
  All in thy armour dress’d;
Yet of our Jotun race am I
  The weakest and the least.”

He gazed around on every side,
  His eye-balls fiercely glared:
“Where is my glove? (he gruffly cried,)
  To steal it who hath dared?”
At length a horse-laugh wild and fierce
  Announced the giant’s mirth;
He laugh’d to see Thor’s followers
  From out the hut come forth.

The giant now to feel the ground
  Stoop’d down with knitted brow;
He stoop’d again, and groped around:
  “My glove, where is it now?”
His helm’s bright horse-hair waved sublime,
  Like fir-crown’d mountain’s top:
He stoop’d once more; and lo! this time
  He took the cottage up!

Then first our travellers perceiv’d
  By th’ morning dawn full well,
That, what a cottage they believ’d,
  Was a vast glove of steel.21
Upon his hand the giant drew
  The glove; it fitted tight;
At once it fill’d the champions true
  With wonder and affright.

But Thor exclaim’d: “Cheer up, my friends!
  Believe me! strength or skill
Never on size alone depends;
  The wolf an ox can kill.
For me, with this foul fiend to cope
  Quite resolute I stand:
Shame were it, should an Asa droop
  With Miölner in his hand.”

Now this discourse the giant fear’d;
  He lean’d against his spear.
“What urgeth Thor of Asagard
  To quit his brilliant sphere?
What moves the mighty God of war
  To tread this barren strand?
Why is he come without his car
  To our dark Goblin-land?”

Then thus replied with accent grum
  The god to heroes dear:
“Enough! it pleas’d me here to come,
  And, therefore, I am here.
’Bout Lok thy swarthy king things strange
  I’ve heard, and now I go
My thoughts with him to interchange
  In Utgard’s realm below.

“I long to view that Chief of fame,
  And tarry there awhile;
For naught I fear his arms of flame,
  Nor e’en his magic guile:
The giants long have learn’d to quake,
  When Asa-Thor drew near.”
Tialfe and Roska, as he spake,
  Now smiled, devoid of fear.

The giant now with bitter sneer
  Thus boisterously replies:
“I warn thee not to persevere
  In this rash enterprize:
Athwart the iron staves so high,
  That Utgard’s realm surround,
No Asa with impunity
  His entrance e’er hath found.

“Restrain thy course, thou Asa pale!
  Nor seek our realm to view!
For there thy strength will naught avail;
  Thy rashness thou mayst rue:
As friend, I know, thou comest not,
  But shouldst thou entrance gain,
Defeat and shame will be thy lot,
  And hope of flight is vain.

“Go back, I say! once more return
  To thy star-lighted dome!
Midst wilds of bramble, brake and thorn,
  What boots it here to roam?
A desert drear, where howls the storm,
  A sea, where billows roar,
Between the gods and giants form
  The bound’ry ever more.

“In warlike games and banquets gay
  The Asar pass their time,
Warm’d by the sun’s eternal ray
  In Asagard sublime:
A royal life of bliss and power
  The Nornor them have given;
And mortals fervent still adore
  The denizens of heaven.

“But for the swarthy giant brood
  Far different is the lot:
They wax in strength and hardihood
  I’ th’ mountain’s deepest grot.
Earth’s sons to us no honour pay;
  They venture not to tread
Those dreary wastes, where we hold sway;
  They fly from us with dread.

“Darkness our realm for aye conceals
  From earth’s light-favour’d sphere:
No fires, but what the flint reveals,
  Our gloomy caverns cheer:
The Asar’s glory ’tis to found
  Creation, order, life:
But we delight to spread around
  Destruction, ruin, strife.”

Now Thor was stagger’d, and anon
  With Miölner struck his shield.
“Thou bitter fiend! thou evil One,
  ’Gainst sense and feeling steel’d!
My hammer cannot here, of course,
  Attain thy lofty brow;
But thou shouldst feel my lightning’s force,
  Were in Trudvang now.

“Do Utgard’s champions dare to hold
  To Thor such language proud?
Foul pismire thou in earth’s black mould!
  Vile slug with torpid blood!
Thinkst thou to damp my courage high,
  Because thou tower’st above
These brambles? I thy arms defy;
  Thy arts my pity move.

“I tell ye plain, ye giant brood!
  Were ye in number more
Than snakes in Nastrond’s marshy flood,
  Or sands on the sea-shore,
I’d brave ye all; for none alive
  Would Thor the combat shun;
To me what pleasure would it give
  To slay ye every one!

“Not only valour stout in war,
  But wit, and skill, and grace
Our Asar boast; and think ye, Thor
  Cannot your Lok surpass?
Your frightful teeth may terrify
  The children of mankind:
Thor’s frown alone would make ye fly,
  Like chaff before the wind.

“Alfader hath of old consign’d ye
  To realms of damp and shade;
In caverns deep, ’tis there we find ye
  In treach’rous ambuscade;
Night only gives ye courage; then
  Ye quit your lurking place,
And with huge clubs and frightful din
  The works of man deface.

“When the poor trav’ller seeks his home,
  Ye lead him far astray;
With murderers and wolves ye roam,
  And guide them to their prey:
Ye feast on human hearts; their blood
  Ye drink with savage joy;
And all that’s useful, great, and good,
  Your lust is to destroy.

“But tremble! think! the day will come,
  When you shall perish all:
The Nornor have decreed your doom;
  By our hand shall ye fall:
Your limbs shall be consumed by fire;
  The mountains be your grave:
Let no one hope Alfader’s ire
  Unpunish’d long to brave!

“In torrents shall your life’s blood flow;
  The dwarfs, although they be
Your kinsmen, towards your overthrow
  Shall lend their industry:
For us the sons of light ’tis they
  That forge the weapons good,
And those same weapons shall one day
  Be colour’d with your blood.

“Behold this hammer! from its blow
  The tide of death bursts forth:
’Twas a dwarf’s gift; this girdle too!
  I’ve prov’d, methinks, its worth.”
Thus said, the hero brandish’d high
  His Miölner; at the sight
The giant cow’ring made reply:
  “I question not thy might:

“Let us be friends, thou Asa good!
  To Utgard straight I’ll guide thee;
And every night with choicest food
  For supper I’ll provide thee:
And Utgard-Lok will much rejoice,
  Such is my fond belief.
Himself to see and hear the voice
  Of such a glorious chief.”

Silent they moved along the strand,
  While Skrymur march’d before,
Bearing a wallet in his hand:
  E’en Roska fear’d no more.
The farther they advanc’d, the road
  Less difficult became.
Thor’s anger vanish’d; on they strode;
  With joy their faces beam.

They cross’d a plain at close of day;
  On th’ borders of a wood
Arrived, quoth Skrymur: “Here we may,
  Methinks, take rest and food.
Let us this night no further go,
  Repose we all do need:
And, when at morn the cock’s shrill crow
  Awakes us, we’ll proceed.”

His heavy wallet down he flings,
  Then adds with meaning sly:
“Be cautious not to spoil the strings,
  When you this bag untie!
In it, believe me, thou wilt find
  A supper, better far
Than what, O Thor, thy consort kind,
  Sif, could herself prepare.”

And now under the green-wood tree
  The giant went to sleep,
While shelter’d by the forest’s lee
  The rest their vigils keep:
For they would fain, by hunger press’d,
  Of the good cheer partake
The bag contain’d; and oft they bless’d
  The donor for its sake.

At length said Thor: “We must, my friends!
  Our work with caution ply:
Since Skrymur caution recommends,
  When we this bag untie.
Methinks, ’twere better to confide
  To Roska’s hand this toil:
Her fingers soft will best avoid
  His precious bag to spoil.”

Now with good will fair Roska took
  The wallet on her knee;
And while the task she undertook,
  Sat down beneath a tree.
The wallet to unbind with care
  Much did the damsel strain;
The knots so closely twisted were,
  ’Twas labour all in vain.

Then Thor from his moss-cover’d seat
  To Tialfe said: “Try thou!
For supperless thou wouldst regret
  To go to sleep, I know.”
Now with the wallet on his thigh
  Young Tialfe sat him down,
But vain his active fingers ply;
  He gives it up full soon.

“I cannot by soft means,” he cried,
  “These close-tied knots undo;
Force must be used.” “Nay!” Thor replied,
  “Ye all have heard my vow
The Giant’s wallet not to spoil;
  But since our food we need,
Go, Lok! try thou the arduous toil!
  Thou mayst perhaps succeed.

“For what to man remains unknown,
  Thou often canst divine;
Doubtless, thy hand, Laufeia’s son!
  Will these hard knots untwine.”
Lok took the wallet up, and strove
  Dextrous the knots to loose;
But vain his skill and efforts prove
  Against the mystic noose.

Thor smiled; he rose, and seiz’d the bag,
  By hunger gaunt impell’d;
Yet soon his strenuous efforts flag:
  Lo! Thor himself hath fail’d!
The God in wrath took up at length
  His sword, the knots to cut;
In vain he cut with all his strength;
  The wallet open’d not.

With both his hands in fury now
  He lifts his hammer fell:
“The fiend has juggled us, I trow,
  With some accursed spell.
To punish him be mine the task,
  And Miölner will, I trust,
Athwart the Goblin’s broken casque
  Its shaft with brains incrust.”

With this, upon the giant’s head
  He dealt a pond’rous blow:
The giant oped his eyes, and said:
  “What hath disturb’d me so?
Upon my cheek hath fall’n some leaf,
  As fast asleep I lay;
But where’s my wallet, mighty chief?
  Hast thou untied it, pray?”

Now red with anger Thor became:
  “Thou bitter fiend! this night
(He murmur’d, while his eyes shot flame)
  Shall death thy fraud requite.”
Once more to sleep the giant rude
  Address’d himself; his snoring
Deafen’d the monsters of the wood
  In awful concert roaring.

Now Thor, much vexed, a second blow
  With force redoubled gives:
His eyes roll fearful to and fro:
  “What? still the Goblin lives?”
At length with rage and fury spent,
  He throws his Miölner down:
But to the nib the hammer went
  Into the giant’s crown.

The giant woke: his mouth he screw’d;
  “I now perceive full well,
While I was sleeping in the wood,
  An acorn on me fell.
But where’s my wallet? comrades dear!
  Have ye the knots untwined?
And did ye not delicious cheer
  In my good wallet find?”

The giant turn’d again to sleep
  All on the mossy ground;
While Thor with thoughts of vengeance deep
  His belt fast round him bound:
He raised his powerful voice aloud
  To Odin’s throne on high;
The very beasts that haunt the wood
  Were frighten’d at his cry.

His eyes flash’d fire; a crash was heard!
  He struck with might and main!
But lo! the giant’s temples hard
  Unscathed still remain!
“How now? what’s this? upon my brow
  A branch hath fall’n, I find:
But where’s my wallet? tell me now!
  Have ye the knots untwined?”22

Shaking his limbs, the giant vast
  Slow from the grass rose up;
The sun, emerging from the east,
  Now gilds the forest’s top.
“Methinks,” said he, “O chief divine!
  Our course we should pursue,
If still it be your firm design
  Great Utgard Lok to view.”

The giant now with shield and spear
  Moved on, and led the way:
Close in his wake the others steer
  Their course, all blithe and gay.
But lo! the tall cloud-threatening towers,
  Though distant, meet their eyes,
Where dwell the fierce gigantic powers,
  Who gods and men despise!

’Tis Utgard! rocks piled upon rocks
  Compose its ramparts vast!
And see what massive bolts and locks
  Its portals huge make fast!
Enormous bars of iron, long
  As mast of admiral,
Form palisades with sharpen’d prong,
  Which stoutest hearts appal.

“Behold our city!” Skrymur cried,
  “Its towers impregnable!
Its stony bastions stretching wide!
  Its palisades of steel!
Yet fear thou naught! accept this pike!
  Thou needst but once the gate
With its enchanted point to strike,
  And lo! ’twill open strait.

“And now farewell! I must begone,
  And leave ye here behind:
To guide ye safe to Lok’s proud throne
  Giants enow ye’ll find:
Take heart! with a firm step advance!
  Valour ye do not lack;
With such a hammer, sword and lance,
  Ye need fear no attack.”

Thus said, he grasp’d his wallet fast,
  And bound it to his spear;
Then strode on to the mountains vast,
  Which towards the north23 appear,
And soon he vanish’d from their view
  The winding rocks among;
While Thor with his companions true
  ’Gainst Utgard march’d along.

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