Having slain Atli, Gudrun went to the sea-shore. She went out into the
sea, and would destroy herself, but could not sink. She was borne
across the firth to the land of King Jonakr, who married her. Their
sons were Sorli, Erp, and Hamdir. There was reared up Svanhild, the
daughter of Sigurd. She was given in marriage to Jormunrek the
Powerful. With him lived Bikki, who counselled Randver, the king's
son, to take her. Bikki told that to the king, who caused Randver to
be hanged, and Svanhild trodden under horses' feet. When Gudrun heard
of this she said to her sons:--
1. Then heard I tell of quarrels dire, hard sayings uttered from
great affliction, when her sons the fierce-hearted Gudrun, in deadly
words, to slaughter instigated.
2. "Why sit ye here? why sleep life away? why does it pain you not
joyous words to speak, now Jormunrek your sister young in years has
with horses trodden, white and black, in the public way, with grey and
way-wont Gothic steeds?
3. Ye are not like to Gunnar and the others, nor of soul so valiant
as Hogni was. Her ye should seek to avenge, if ye had the courage of
my brothers, or the fierce spirit of the Hunnish kings."
4. Then said Hamdir, the great of heart: "Little didst thou care
Hogni's deed to praise, when Sigurd he from sleep awaked. Thy
blue-white bed-clothes were red with thy husband's gore, with
death-blood covered.
5. "For thy brothers thou didst o'er-hasty vengeance take, dire and
bitter, when thou thy sons didst murder. We young ones[117] could on
Jormunrek, acting all together, have avenged our sister.
6. "Bring forth the arms of the Hunnish kings: thou hast us
stimulated to a sword-mote."
7. Laughing Gudrun to the storehouse turned, the kings' crested
helms from the coffers drew, their ample corslets, and to her sons
them bore. The young heroes loaded their horses' shoulders.
8. Then said Hamdir, the great of heart: "So will no more come his
mother to see, the warrior felled in the Gothic land, so that thou the
funeral-beer after us all may drink, after Svanhild and thy sons."
9. Weeping Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, sorrowing went, to sit in the
fore-court, and to recount, with tear-worn cheeks, sad of soul, her
calamities, in many ways.
10. "Three fires I have known, three hearths I have known, of three
consorts I have been borne to the house. Sigurd alone to me was better
than all, of whom my brothers were the murderers.
11. "Of my painful wounds I might not complain; yet they even more
seemed to afflict me, when those chieftains to Atli gave me.
12. "My bright boys I called to speak with me; for my injuries I
could not get revenge, ere I had severed the Hniflungs' heads.
13. "To the sea-shore I went, against the Norns I was embittered; I
would cast off their persecution; bore, and submerged me not the
towering billows; up on land I rose, because I was to live.
14. "To the nuptial couch I went--as I thought better for me,--for
the third time, with a mighty king. I brought forth offspring,
guardians of the heritage, guardians of the heritage, Jonakr's sons.
15. "But around Svanhild bond-maidens sat; of all my children her I
loved the best. Svanhild was, in my hall, as was the sun-beam, fair to
behold.
16. "I with gold adorned her, and with fine raiment, before I gave
her to the Gothic people. That is to me the hardest of all my woes,
that Svanhild's beauteous locks should in the mire be trodden under
horses' feet.
17. "But that was yet more painful, when my Sigurd they ingloriously
slew in his bed; though of all most cruel, when of Gunnar the
glistening serpents to the vitals crawled; but the most agonizing,
which to my heart flew, when the brave king's heart they while quick
cut out.
18. "Many griefs I call to memory, many ills I call to memory.
Guide, Sigurd! thy black steed, thy swift courser, hither let it run.
Here sits no son's wife, no daughter, who to Gudrun precious things
may give.
19. "Remember, Sigurd! what we together said, when on our bed we
both were sitting, that thou, brave one, wouldst come to me from Hel's
abode, but I from the world to thee.
20. "Raise, ye Jarls! an oaken pile; let it under heaven the highest
be. May it burn a breast full of woes! the fire round my heart its
sorrows melt!"
21. May all men's lot be bettered, all women's sorrow lessened, to
whom this tale of woes shall be recounted.