{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/morris/ep2/ep213.htm","path":"neu/morris/ep2/ep213.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/morris/ep2/ep213.htm","text":"The Earthly Paradise, (September-November), by William Morris, [1870]\nThe Dealings of King Olaf Tryggvison with the Icelanders.\nNOW tells the tale that safe to Drontheim came\n Kiartan with all his folk, and the great fame\n Of Olaf Tryggvison then first they knew,\n When thereof spake the townsmen to the crew,\n But therewithal yet other news they heard,\n Which seemed to one and all a heavy word;\n How that the king, from the old customs turned,\n Now with such zeal toward his new faith burned,\n That thereby nothing else to him was good\n But that all folk should bow before the Rood. p. 386\n When Kiartan's coming thitherward betid\n Three ships of Iceland lay there in the Nid,\n Manned by stout men enow; downcast were these\n Who had been glad enow the king to please;\n And save their goods, and lives, perchance, withal,\n But knew not how their forefathers to call\n Souls damned for ever and ever; yet they said\n That matters drew so swiftly to a head,\n That when they met the king he passed them by\n With head turned round, or else with threatening eye\n Scowled on them; \"And when Yule-tide comes,\" said they,\n \"We look to have from him a settled day\n When we must change our faith or bide the worst.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Well,\" Kiartan said, \"this king is not the first\n To think the world is made for him alone;\n Who knows how things will go ere all is done?\n God wot, I wish my will done even as he;\n I hate him not.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And therewith merrily\n From out the ship the men of Herdholt went;\n A bright eve was it, and the good town sent\n Thin smoke and blue straight upward through the air,\n For it had rained of late, and here and there\n Sauntered the townsfolk, man and maid and child;\n Where street met quay a fiddle's sound beguiled\n A knot of listening folk, who no less turned\n And stared hard as the westering sunbeams burned p. 387\n Upon the steel and scarlet of that band,\n Whom, as ye well may wot, no niggard hand\n Had furnished forth; so up the long street then,\n Gazing about, well gazed at, went the men,\n A goodly sight. But e\u2019en as they would wend\n About the corner where that street had end,\n High up in air nearby \u2019gan ring a chime\n Whose sweetness seemed to bless e\u2019en that sweet time\n With double blessing. Kiartan stayed his folk\n When first above his head that sound outbroke,\n And listened smiling, till he heard a sigh\n Close by him, and met Bodli's wandering eye\n That fell before his.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Softly Kiartan spake:\n \"Now would Gudrun were here e\u2019en for the sake\n Of this sweet sound! nought have I heard so sweet.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So on they passed, and turned about the street,\n And saw the great church cast its shadow down\n Upon the low roofs of the goodly town,\n And yet awhile they stayed there marvelling;\n But therewith heard behind them armour ring,\n And turning, saw a gallant company\n Going afoot, and yet most brave to see,\n Come toward the church, and nigher as they drew\n It was to Kiartan even as if he knew\n One man among them, taller by the head\n Than any there, and clad in kirtle red,\n Girt with a sword, with whose gold hilt he played p. 388\n With his left hand, the while his right did shade\n His eyes from the bright sun that \u2019gainst him blazed,\n As on the band of Icelanders he gazed;\n Broad-shouldered was he, grand to look upon,\n And in his red beard tangled was the sun\n That lit his bright face up in wrathful wise,\n That fiercer showed his light-grey eager eyes.\n Now ere he came quite close, sidelong he bent\n Unto a man who close beside him went,\n Then turned, and gazed at Kiartan harder yet,\n As he passed by, and therewith their eyes met,\n And Kiartan's heart beat, and his face grew bright,\n His eyes intent as if amidst a fight,\n Yet on his lips a smile was, confident,\n Devoid of hate, as by him the man went.\n But Bodli said, \"Let us begone ere day\n Is fully passed, if even yet we may;\n This is the king, and what then may we do\n \u2019Gainst such a man, a feeble folk and few?\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But Kiartan turned upon him loftily,\n And said, \"Abide! I do not look to die\n Ere we get back to Iceland; one there is,\n Thou knowst, therein, to hold through woe and bliss\n My soul from its departing; go we then\n And note the way of worship of these men.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So on that eve about the church they hung,\n And through the open door heard fair things sung, p. 389\n And sniffed the incense; then to ship they went.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But the next morn the king to Kiartan sent\n To bid him come unto the royal hall,\n Where nought but good to him and his should fall;\n Close by the ship upon the sunny quay\n Was Kiartan, when the man these words did say,\n Amid a ring of Icelanders, who sat\n Upon the bales of unshipped goods: with that\n Kiartan stood up and said unto the man:\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Undo thy kirtle if thy worn hands can!\n Show us thy neck where the king's chain has galled;\n But tell us not whereby thy sire was called\n Lest some of these should blush\u2014go tell the king\n That I left Iceland for another thing\n Than to curse all the dead men of my race,\n To make him merry\u2014lengthen not thy face,\n For thou shalt tell him therewithal, that I\n Will do him service well and faithfully\n As a free man may do; else let him take\n What he can get of me for his God's sake.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Silence there was about him at this word,\n Except that Bodli muttered in his beard:\n \"Now certainly a good reward we have,\n In that we cast away what fortune gave,\n Yet doubtless shall our names be bruited far p. 390\n When we are dead\u2014then, too, no longings are\n For what we may not have.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So as he came\n The man went, and e\u2019en Kiartan now had blame\n For his rash word. \"What will ye, friends?\" he said,\n \"The king is wise; his wrath will well be weighed;\n He knoweth that we shall not fall for nought.\n Should I speak soft?\u2014why then should we be brought,\n Unarmed belike, and helpless, one by one\n Up to the bishop when the feast was done\u2014\n What, K\u00e1lf! thou say\u2019st, aboard, and let us weigh?\n Yes, and be overhauled ere end of day\n By the king's longships\u2014nay, friends, all is well;\n And at the worst shall be a tale to tell\n Ere all is o\u2019er.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They hearkened, and cast fear\n Aside awhile; for death had need be near\n Unto such men for them to heed him aught.\n So the time passed, and the king harmed them nought\n And sent no message more to them, and they\n Were lodged within the town, and day by day\n Went here and there in peace, till Yule drew nigh.\n And now folk said the feast would not pass by\n Without some troubling of the ancient faith\n At the king's hands, and war and ugly death\n Drew round the season of the peace on earth\n The angels sang of at that blessed birth.\n Put whoso gloomed at tidings men might show, p. 391\n It was not Kiartan; wary was he though,\n And weighed men's speech well; and upon a day\n He, casting up what this and that might say,\n All Iceland folk into one place did call,\n And when they were assembled in the hall,\n Spake on this wise:\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Fair fellows, well ye know,\n The saw that says, the wise saves blow by blow;\n This king who lies so heavy on us here\n Is a great man; his own folk hold him dear,\n For he spares nought to them. Yet ye know well\n That when his might on Hacon's fortune fell,\n Great foes he left alive, and still they live.\n Noble the man is; but yet who can give\n Good fortune to his foe? and he must be,\n Despite our goodwill, still our enemy.\n I grudge it not, for noble seems the chance\n The fortunes of a fair name to advance.\n And so it may be, friends, that we shall free\n The land this tide of the long tyranny\n That Harald Fair-hair laid on it, and give\n Unto all folk beneath just laws to live,\n As in the old days\u2014shortly let us go,\n When time shall serve, and to king Olaf show\n That death breeds death; I say not this same night,\n But hold ye ever ready for the fight,\n And shun the mead-horn: Yule is close anigh\n And the king's folk will drink abundantly;\n Then light the torch and draw the whetted sword!\u2014 p. 392\n \u2014A great man certes\u2014yet I marked this word\n Said by his bishop\u2014many words he made\n About a matter small if rightly weighed\u2014\n To die is gain\u2014this king and I, and ye\n Are young for that, yet so it well may be:\n Some of us here are deemed to have done well;\n How shall it be when folk our story tell\n If we die grey-haired? honour fallen away,\n Good faith lost, kindness perished\u2014for a day\n Of little pleasure mingled with great pain\u2014\n So will we not unto the Gods complain\n Or draw our mouths awry with foolish hate,\n This king and I, if \u2019neath the hand of fate\n Sword to sword yet we meet: hearken once more\u2014\n It seems the master of this new-found lore\n Said to his men once, Think ye that I bring\n Peace upon earth? nay but a sword\u2014O king,\n Behold the sword ready to meet thy sword!\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Out sprang his bright steel at that latest word,\n And bright the weapons glittered round about,\n And the roof shook again beneath their shout;\n But only Bodli, silent, pensive, stood,\n As though he heeded nought of bad or good\n In word or deed. But Kiartan, flushed and glad,\n Noted him not, for whatso thought he had,\n He deemed him ever ready in the end\n To follow after as himself should wend.\n Howso that was, now were these men at one, p. 393\n That e\u2019en as Kiartan bade it should be done,\n And the king set on, ere on them he fell;\n So then to meat they gat and feasted well;\n But the next morn espial should be made\n How best to do the thing that Kiartan bade.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The next morn came, and other news withal,\n For by a messenger the king did call\n The Icelanders to council in his house,\n Bidding them note, that howso valorous\n They might be, still but little doubt there was\n That lightly he might bring their end to pass\n If need should drive him thereto. \"Yet,\" said he,\n \"Fain would I give you peace, though certainly\n This tide but one of two things must ye choose,\n Either nought else but life itself to lose,\n Or else to come and hearken to my words\n In the great hall whereas I see my lords.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Kiartan gazed round about when this was said,\n Smiling beneath a frown, his face flushed red\n With wrath and shame. \"Well,\" said he, \"we are caught\u2014\n The sluggards\u2019 counsel morning brings to nought.\n What say ye, shall we hold the feast at home?\n Hearken, the guests get ready! shall they come?\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For as he spake upon the wind was borne\n Unto their ears the blast of a great horn, p. 394\n And smiled the messenger, and therewithal\n Down from the minster roar of bells did fall,\n Rung back and clashing; thereon Bodli spake:\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Thou and I, cousin, for our honour's sake,\n May be content to die; but what of these?\n Thy part it is to bring us unto peace\n If it may be; then, if the worst befall,\n There can we die too, as in Atli's Hall\n The Niblungs fell; nor worser will it sound\n That thus it was, when we are underground,\n And over there our Gudrun hears the tale.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Silent sat Kiartan, gazing on the pale\n Set face of Bodli for a while, then turned\n Unto his silent folk, and saw they yearned\n For one chance more of life.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Go, man,\" he said,\n And tell thy king his will shall be obeyed\n So far as this, that we will come to him;\n But bid him guard with steel, head, breast, and limb,\n Since as we come, belike, we shall not go,\n And who the end of words begun can know.\n Ho, friends! do on your war-gear! Fear ye not,\n Since two good things to choose from have ye got:\n Peace, or a famed death!\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then with both his ears\n Ringing with clink of mail and clash of spears p. 395\n The messenger went forth upon his way;\n And the king knew by spies, the wise ones say,\n What counsel Kiartan gave his folk that eve,\n And had no will in such great hands to leave\n His chance of life or death. Now, armed at last,\n The men of Iceland up the long street passed,\n And saw few men there; wives and children stood\n Before the doors to gaze, or in his hood\n An elder muttered, as they passed him by,\n Or sad-eyed maids looked on them longingly.\n So came they to the great hall of the king,\n And round about the door there stood a ring\n Of tall men armed, and each a dreaded name;\n These opened to them as anigh they came,\n And then again drew close, and hemmed them in,\n Nor spared they speech or laughter, and the din\n Was great among them as all silently\n The men of Herdholt passed the door-posts by.\n Then through the hall's dusk Kiartan gazed, and saw\n Small space whereby his company might draw\n Nigh to the king, for there so thick men stood\n That their tall spears were like a wizard's wood.\n Now some way from the da\u00efs must they stand\n Where sat the king, and close to his right hand\n The German bishop, but no heed at all\n The king gave to our folk, as down the hall\n His marshal cried for silence, and the din\n Being quite appeased, in a clear voice and thin\n The holy man \u2019gan to set forth the faith; p. 396\n But for these men brought nigh the gate of Death,\n Hard was it now to weigh the right and wrong\n Of what he said, that seemed both dull and long.\n So when at last he came unto an end,\n Uprose the king, and o\u2019er the place did send\n A mighty voice: \"Now have ye heard the faith,\n And what the High God through his servant saith;\n This is my faith: what say ye to it, then?\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Uprose a great shout from King Olaf's men,\n And clash of tossing spears, and Bodli set\n His hand upon his sword, while Kiartan yet\n Stood still, and, smiling, eyed the king: and he\n Turned on him as the din fell:\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What say ye,\n What say ye, Icelanders? thou specially?\n I call thee yet a year too young to die,\n Son of my namesake; neither seem\u2019st thou such\n As who would trust in Odin overmuch,\n Or pray long prayers to Thor, while yet thy sword\n Hangs by thy side.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now at the king's first word\n Down Kiartan stooped, and \u2019gan his shoe to lace,\n And a dumb growl went through the crowded place\n Like the far thunder while the sky is bright;\n But when he rose again and stood upright\n The king cried out:\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Which man of these is he p. 397\n Who counselled you to slay no man but me\n Amid my guards?\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Kiartan stood forth a space;\n And said: \"E\u2019en so, O king, thou biddst him face\n Of his own will, the thing that all men fear,\n Swift death and certain\u2014king, the man is here,\n And in his own land, Kiartan Olafson\n Men called him\u2014pity that his days are done,\n For fair maids loved him.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As he said the word\n From out its sheath flamed forth the rover's sword,\n And Bodli was beside him, and the hall\n Was filled with fury now from wall to wall,\n And back to back now stood the Herdholt band,\n Each with his weapon gleaming in his hand.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then o\u2019er the clamour was the king's voice heard;\n \"Peace, men of mine, too quickly are ye stirred!\n Do ye not see how that this man and I\n Alone of men still let our sharp swords lie\n Within their sheaths? Wise is the man to know\n How troublous things among great men will go.\n Speak, Kiartan Olafson! I offer thee\n That in my court here thou abide with me,\n Keeping what faith thou wilt; but let me deal\n To these thy fellows either bane or weal,\n As they shall do my bidding.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Kinglike then,\"\n Said Kiartan, \"dost thou speak about these men; p. 398\n Yea, like a fool, who knowest not the earth,\n And what things thereon bring us woe or mirth;\n No man there is of these but calls me friend;\n Yea, and if all truth but this truth should end,\n And sire, and love, and all were false to me,\n Still should I look on my right hand to see\n Bodli the son of Thorleik\u2014Come, then, death,'\n Thy yokefellow am I.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then from his sheath\n Outsprang his sword, and even therewithal\n Clear rang the Iceland shout amidst the hall,\n And in a short space had the tale been o\u2019er,\n But therewith Olaf stilled the noise once more,\n And smiling said;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Thou growest angry, man!\n Content thee, thou it was the strife began,\n And now thou hast the best of it; come, then,\n And sit beside me; thou and thy good men\n Shall go in peace\u2014only, bethink thee how\n In idle poet's lies thou needst must trow\u2014\n Make no delay to take me by the hand,\n Not meet it is that \u2019neath me thou shouldst stand.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To Kiartan's face, pale erst with death, there rose\n A sudden flush, and then his lips, set close,\n And knitted brow, grew soft, and in his eyes\n There came at first a look of great surprise,\n Then kind they grew, and with shamefaced smile\n He looked upon the king a little while, p. 399\n Then slowly sank his sword, and, taking it\n By the sharp point, to where the king did sit\n He made his way, and said:\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Nay, thou hast won;\n Do thou for me what no man yet has done,\n And take my sword, and leave me weaponless:\n And if thy Christ is one who e\u2019en can bless\n An earthly man, or heed him aught at all,\n On me too let his love and blessing fall;\n But if nor Christ, nor Odin help, why, then\n Still at the worst are we the sons of men,\n And will we, will we not, yet must we hope,\n And after unknown happiness must grope,\n Since the known fails us, as the elders say;\n Though sooth, for me, who know no evil day,\n Are all these things but words.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Put back thy blade,\"\n The king said, \"thereof may I be apaid,\n With thee to wield it for me; and now, come,\n Deem of my land and house e\u2019en as thy home,\n For surely now I know that this thy smile\n The heart from man or maid can well beguile.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As the king spake, drew Bodli nigh the place,\n And a strange look withal there crossed his face;\n It seemed he waited as a man in dread\n What next should come; but little Kiartan said\n Save thanks unto the king, and gayer now\n Than men had seen him yet, he \u2019gan to grow. p. 400\n Then gave the king command, and presently\n All strife was swallowed of festivity,\n And in all joyance the time slipped away,\n And a fair ending crowned a troublous day.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Great love there grew \u2019twixt Kiartan and the king\n From that time forth, and many a noble thing\n Was planned betwixt them; and ere Yule was o\u2019er\n White raiment in the Minster, Kiartan bore,\n And he and his were hallowed at the font.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now so I deem it is, that use and wont,\n The lords of men, the masks of many a face,\n Raising the base perchance, somewhat abase\n Those that are wise and noble; even so\n O\u2019er Kiartan's head as day by day did go,\n Worthier the king's court, and its ways \u2019gan seem\n Than many a thing whereof he erst did dream,\n And gay he grew beyond the wont of men.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now with the king dwelt Ingibiorg as then,\n His sister; unwed was she, fair of face,\n Beloved and wise, not lacking any grace\n Of mind or body: Often it befell\n That she and Kiartan met, and more than well\n She \u2019gan to love him; and he let her love,\n Saying withal, that nought at all might move\n His heart from Gudrun; and for very sooth\n He might have held that word; but yet for ruth.\n And a soft pleasure that he would not name p. 401\n All unrebuked he let her soft eyes claim\n Kindness from his; and surely to the king\n This love of theirs seemed a most happy thing,\n And to himself he promised merry days,\n And had in heart so Kiartan's state to raise\n That he should be a king too.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But meanwhile,\n Silent would Bodli go, without a smile\n Upon his sad changed face from morn to eve;\n And often now the thronged hall would he leave\n To wander by the borders of the sea,\n Waiting, half dreading, till some news should free\n The band of Icelanders; most wearily\n Month after month to him the days dragged by.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For ye shall know that the king looked for news\n Whether the folk of Iceland would refuse,\n At the priest Thangbrand's word, to change their faith.\n A man of violence, the story saith,\n A lecher, and a manslayer\u2014tidings came\n While yet the summer at its height did flame,\n And Thangbrand brought it; little could he do,\n Although indeed two swordsmen stout he slew,\n Unto the holy faith folk's hearts to turn.\n Hall of the Side, as in the tale we learn,\n Gizur the White, and Hialti Skeggison,\n With some few others, to the faith were won,\n The most of men little these things would heed,\n And some were furious heathens; so, indeed, p. 402\n To save his life he had to flee away.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Wroth was the king hereat, and now would stay\n The Iceland ships from sailing; little fain\n Was Kiartan yet to get him back again,\n Since he, forgetting not the former days\u2014\n It might be\u2014passed his life fulfilled of praise,\n And love, and glory. So the time went on,\n Gizur the White and Hialti Skeggison,\n Fleeing from Iceland, in the autumn-tide\n Came out to Norway with the king to bide\n Until the summer came, when they should go\n Once more the truth of Christ's fair lore to show.\n Long ago now of Gudrun and her ways,\n And of the coming of those happy days\n That were to be, had Kiartan ceased to speak\n Unto his friend; who sullen now and weak,\n Weary with waiting, faint with holding back\n He scarcely knew from what, did surely lack\n Some change of days if yet he was to live.\n Tidings the new comers to him did give\n From Laxdale, speaking lightly of the thing\n That like a red-hot iron hand did wring\n His weary heart; Gudrun was fair and well,\n And still at Bathstead in good hope did dwell\n Of Kiartan's swift return. That word or two,\n That name, wrought in him, that at last he knew\n His longing, and intent; and desolate\n The passing of the days did he await,\n Torn by remorse, tortured by fear, lest yet p. 403\n Kiartan the lapse of strange days should forget,\n And take to heart the old familiar days,\n And once more turn him to the bygone ways\n Where they were happy\u2014but his fear was vain,\n For if his friend of Iceland had been fain\n Scarce had he gone; the king would keep him there\n A pledge with other three, till he should hear\n What thing the Icelanders this time would do,\n Nor, as we said, had he good will to go\n Whatso his power was: for so far things went\n With Ingibiorg, that folk with one consent\n Named her his bride that was to be, and said,\n That sure a nobler pair were never wed.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And so the time passed, till the day came round\n When at the quay the ships lay Iceland-bound,\n And Bodli went to bid his friend farewell,\n Flushed and bright-eyed, for wild hope, sooth to tell,\n Had striven with shame, and cast its light on love,\n Until a fairer sky there seemed above,\n A fairer earth about, and still most fair\n The fresh green sea that was to bring him there,\n Whereon his heart was set.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"O gay! O gay!\"\n Said Kiartan, \"thou art glad to go away;\n This is the best face I have seen on thee\n Since first our black oars smote the Burgfirth sea.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But as he spake a dark flush and a frown p. 404\n Swallowed up Bodli's smile; he cast adown\n His eager eyes: \"Thou art as glad to stay,\n Belike,\" he said, \"as I to go away.\n What thinkest thou I plot against thee then?\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Thou art the strangest of the sons of men,\"\n Said Kiartan, with a puzzled look. \"Come now,\n Leave off thy riddles, clear thy troubled brow,\n And let me think of thee as in time past,\n When ever a most merry lad thou wast!\n Why talkest thou of plotting? True and leal\n I deem thee ever as the well-tried steel\n That hangs beside thee; neither cross at all\n Our fond desires. Though whatso thing may fall\n Still shall I trust thee.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0His own face grew grave\n As o\u2019er his heart there swept a sudden wave\n Of the old thoughts. But Bodli said, \"O friend,\n Forgive my face fair looks and foul; I wend\n Back to our kin and land, that gladdens me.\n I leave thee here behind across the sea,\n That makes me sad and sour.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He did not raise\n His eyes up midst his words, or meet the gaze\n Kiartan bent on him, till again he said:\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Olaf shall hear of all the goodlihead\n Thou gainest here. Thy brethren shall be glad\n That thou such honour from all men hast had. p. 405\n Oswif the Wise no doubt I soon shall see\u2014\n What shall I say to him?\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then steadily\n Gazed Kiartan on him. \"Tell Gudrun all this\n Thou knowest of, my honour and my bliss;\n Say we shall meet again!\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No more they spake,\n But kissed and parted; either's heart did ache\n A little while with thought of the old days;\n Then Bodli to the future turned his gaze,\n Unhappy and remorseful, knowing well\n How ill his life should go whate\u2019er befell.\n But Kiartan, left behind, being such a man\n As through all turns of fortune never can\n Hold truce with fear or sorrow, lived his life\n Not ill content with all the change and strife.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fair goes the ship that beareth out Christ's truth,\n Mingled of hope, of sorrow, and of ruth,\n And on the prow Bodli the Christian stands,\n Sunk deep in thought of all the many lands\n The world holds, and the folk that dwell therein,\n And wondering why that grief and rage and sin\n Was ever wrought; but wondering most of all\n Why such wild passion on his heart should fall. p. 406","title":"The Earthly Paradise (September-November): The Lovers of Gudrun: The Dealings of King Olaf Tryggvison with the Icelanders","type":"page"}