{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/morris/ep2/ep222.htm","path":"neu/morris/ep2/ep222.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/morris/ep2/ep222.htm","text":"The Earthly Paradise, (September-November), by William Morris, [1870]\nKiartan fetches the price of the Coif from Bathstead.\nAND now a day or two with brooding face\n Did Kiartan go about from place to place\n And speak few words to any, till one day\n He bade his men see to their war-array,\n For two hours after midnight all and some\n Into the hall to wait his word should come,\n And whoso blabbed, he said, the deed should rue.\n So thitherward in arms that night they drew;\n And Refna trembling lay, while Kiartan clad\n His body in the best war-gear he had,\n And through the hangings did she watch the spears,\n And dreadful seemed the laughter to her ears,\n And red the lamps burned, as with twilight grey\n They mingled: then he turned to go away,\n And kissed her as he spake:\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\"Refna, this eve,\n Most like, a noble gift shalt thou receive;\n Do thou thy part to meet it with good grace,\n And gather what thou canst into this place\n Of fiddlers and of glee-men, and with song\n Meet that good gift that comes to heal thy wrong.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now Refna durst not ask, What wilt thou then,\n And whither go to-night these all-armed men?\n Because she deemed she knew what word it was p. 479\n That all this clash of arms had brought to pass,\n And sick at heart she grew to think thereof,\n And with her fair white arms made strong by love\n She clung to Kiartan, but he drew her hold\n With gentle hands from off the mail rings cold.\n And kissed her sweet mouth opened now to speak,\n And gat him gone; and she fell back all weak\n Upon her bed, and lying there alone,\n Saw how his war-gear in the bright light shone,\n And heard his cheery voice as he cried loud,\n \"To Bathstead, ho!\" and then the noisy crowd\n Passed clashing from the hall, and nothing there\n Within a little while might Refna hear,\n But the dawn's noises, and the loitering tread\n Of some maid getting slowly back to bed;\n So there she lay alone in grief and fear,\n But hope's fresh voice shuddering she needs must hear\n Whispering wild words, yet sweet, of chance and crime,\n Telling the wondrous ways of slowfoot time.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But now at Bathstead ere they rose that morn,\n Men deemed they heard the winding of a horn,\n And, running straightway to the door, could see\n About the stead a goodly company,\n And there were Olaf's sons with sixty men\n Besetting every gate and door; but when\n The men of Bathstead were all armed and went\n Unto the door, they saw a gay-striped tent\n Just raised upon the slope-side \u2019gainst the hall p. 480\n And armed men round about it; one man, tall\n Beyond his fellows, stood some yards more near\n The hall-door, leaning on a pennoned spear,\n Clad in a glittering mail-coat, with a shield\n About his neck, where, on a golden field\n The holy Rood of God was painted fair;\n From \u2019neath his gilded helm his golden hair\n Fell waving down, but hidden were his eyes\n By the wide brim: then did great fear arise\n Within their hearts, despite their fiery hate,\n Because they knew that now at last, if late,\n Was Kiartan's might aroused and in the field.\n But none the less little would Ospak yield\n To any fear; before the rest he strode,\n And cried aloud:\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Within this fair abode\n Has been thy place, O Kiartan Olafson,\n And not without; what ill deed hast thou done\n That father Oswif has forbidden thee\n Thy honoured seat where it was wont to be?\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The tall man moved not, but a deep voice came\n From \u2019neath his helm: \"Thou art right wise to name\n A hidden head; grow wiser! sick am I,\n And somewhat deadly now to come anigh;\n My sword has lost its scabbard \u2019gainst my will,\n Beware then, for its naked edge may kill!\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then Ospak raised the spear in his right hand p. 481\n And shook it, but the tall man forth did stand\n And pushed his helm aback and showed the face\n Of Kiartan, and across the grassy space\n Cried mightily: \"Be wise, and get ye back!\n Of fighting one day shall ye have small lack;\n But now beware, because my father's sons\n Have sworn to spare no man of you, if once\n A drop of blood is spilt! Come ye not forth\n Until I bid you, if of any worth\n Ye hold your lives; and meantime for the sake\n Of what I had and have not, I will take\n My due from mead and byre.\"\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\u00a0And therewithal\n He let his helm down o\u2019er his visage fall,\n And turned back toward the tent. Back shrank again,\n Cowed into sullen rage, the Bathstead men,\n And armed but helpless there within the hall\n Silent they sat, hearkening the raiders call\n The cattle o\u2019er the meads: in high-seat there\n Sat Bodli, but his visage worn with care\n Of the past days, was sad, but calm and soft,\n As if he thought of gentle things, though oft\n Fierce eyes would scowl upon his dreamy face\n Unnoted of him; in that dreary place\n He seemed like some dead king, condemned in hell\n For his one sin among such men to dwell\n As for their wickedness he hated most\n Ere righteous ways and life and all were lost. p. 482\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And in meantime, \u2019twixt silent trembling bower\n And silent cursing hall, hour after hour\n Did Gudrun pace with restless feet, and heart\n Betwixt two nameless miseries torn apart,\n Whence cold despair was being well fashioned now.\n And Oswif sat apart with wrinkled brow,\n Unnoted in that house of grief and wrong.\n But midst their shame, from outside, laugh and song\n Came loud and louder, mingled with the clank\n Of mead-horns; the feast's clamour never sank\n Till mid-day was well passed; then quieter\n It grew without, and yet they still might hear\n Lowing of neat and men's shouts. Then a voice\n Cried from the slope-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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Bathstead men, rejoice\n That ye no autumn-feast need hold this year,\n For certes else should ye find victuals dear\n And hard to come by! Oswif's sons, come out,\n Unarmed and peaceable, and have no doubt\n Of hurt from us!\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They stirred not for a space;\n Then cried the voice: \"Lives none within the place?\n Are ye all dead of fear? Come out, I say,\n Else o\u2019er your roof the red cock crows to-day!\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then Ospak, cursing, on the pavement cast\n His shield and spear, and toward the doorway passed,\n And in likewise the others one by one,\n Till Bodli and Gudrun were left alone: p. 483\n And then she said, \"And thou\u2014wilt thou not go?\n Knowst thou the name of him who shames us so?\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Yea, yea, I know it!\" Bodli cried; \"farewell!\n Of me, too, shall there be a tale to tell:\n I will go forth, but not without my sword.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He drew the thing he named with that last word,\n And ran unto the door; against the wall\n There stood the sons of Oswif, stout and tall,\n Foaming, but helpless: in his saddle now\n Sat Kiartan, unhelmed, his bright hair a-glow\n With the May sun. His brethren stood around\n Beside their horses, and a mighty sound\n Came from the herd of neat that thronged the way\n Beneath the hill-side; spears with pennons gay\n Glittered about them in the sunlight fair,\n For Kiartan's company was gathered there\n Ready to set forth.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So there Bodli stood\n One moment, thinking that the world was good,\n Though not for him; then he cried out: \"O thou,\n Thou son of Olaf, come and meet me now,\n For long have I been weary of the earth;\n And now to me but one thing seems of worth\n That I should win death of such hands as thine.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then in the sunlight did the bright steel shine,\n And Kiartan's brethren soon had ended all,\n For Bodli ran forth; yet heard Kiartan call p. 484\n Across the clash of arms: \"Nay, point nor edge\n His blood shall redden not; make ye a hedge\n Of your strong shields and thrust him back again\n Since he knows not that all his might is vain,\n E\u2019en to win death; live, foster-brother, yet,\n And get despite of all, what thou mayst get\n Of joy and honour.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Midway, Bodli stayed,\n And in his hand he poised the heavy blade\n As he would cast it from him, slowly then\n Did he give back face foremost from the men,\n Till in the doorway once again he stood.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then Kiartan said: \"Yea, cousin, it is good,\n If thou must die by me, that thou shouldst bide\n Some noble fight, some glorious reaping-tide,\n Where each of each fair fame at least may gain\u2014\n God grant a little bliss ere that last pain!\u2014\n But hearken, thievish sons of a wise man!\n Be taught, ye blustering fools, if yet ye can!\n From Yule till now I gave you, a long day,\n To pay the debt that needs was ye must pay;\n Twice told I take it now, and leave behind\n What shall seem shame indeed to most men's mind.\n \u2014This is my bridal gift, think well of it;\n In your own fields it waxed, while ye did sit\n Plotting across the meadhorns. Now take heed\n That oft henceforth your manhood shall ye need\n If ye would live in peace. Blow loud and clear,\" p. 485\n O horns, for Refna waiteth for us there,\n And merry shall we be to-night in hall\n What things soever afterwards may fall!\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Still Bodli stood with drawn sword in the door\n While midst the clang of arms and horn's loud roar,\n He saw the herd move up the dusty road;\n He saw how Kiartan for a while abode\n Behind the rest, and stared at the grey stead\n Whose roof so often had been o\u2019er his head;\n He saw him turn, and well might deem he sighed,\n Then muttered he, \"Ah, would God I had died\n By thee to-day!\" and sheathed his sword, and then\n Was hustled by the sullen baffled men\n Who shouldered past him back into the hall,\n Who heeded him just as they did the wall\n Past which they rubbed; but with the last of these\n He went in, casting by all hope of peace.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But Refna looking from the Herdholt knoll\n That evening, saw a dust-cloud upward roll\n And move toward Herdholt, and her heart beat fast\n When from the midst thereof bright spear-heads passed,\n And then men's helms, and then the guarded herd;\n And she bethought her of her mate's last word,\n And bade the women in their best array,\n And minstrels, stand on either side the way\n To greet the new-comers, whose horns blew loud\n Close by the garth now, while the beasts \u2019gan crowd p. 486\n About the garth-gate; so, the gate past through,\n Over the homefield toward the wall they drew,\n Tended by gay-clad men-at-arms, who wore\n About their helms fair flowers that Bathstead bore,\n While of the beasts, sharp horn and curl-browed head,\n And dewlapped neck were well begarlanded.\n Then from the close loud joyful cries arose,\n Tinkle of harps, sharp noise of fiddle-bows,\n And all along the line there ran a shout:\n Therewith old Olaf to the door came out,\n And saw his sons swift from the cattle ride,\n Till Kiartan leapt adown by Refna's side\n And cast his arms about her, and \u2019gan cry:\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Now is the Queen's-Gift paid for fittingly;\n For these are thine, e\u2019en as my hand and sword,\n To put from thee all care, and every word\n That grieves thee, sweet. O love, but I am gay!\n Sure a fair life beginneth from to-day!\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She gazed at him, and knew not why her heart\n Scarce in that joyous scene might play its part\u2014\n Why it was not enough\u2014these words of love,\n His bright fair face her longing eyes above?\n Yet with a loving cry she hid her face\n Upon his breast.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thereat did Olaf gaze\n And muttered low: \"A goodly price in sooth\n For a girl's coif! but yet, for Kiartan's youth, p. 487\n For his fair hope and glory, and increase\n Of good deeds, and mine own old age of peace,\n Not too much, not too much! Ah, woe is me\n That I should live these latter days to see!\"","title":"The Earthly Paradise (September-November): The Lovers of Gudrun: Kiartan fetches the price of the Coif from Bathstead","type":"page"}