The Rímur of Blávus and Viktor

Twelve rímur on the sworn brotherhood of Viktor, son of King Vilhjálmr Rauðr of France, and his companion Blávus. The two princes meet in a forest clearing, fight to exhaustion, and swear undying loyalty on a blue magic cloth that flies through the air. Together they feast, defeat the poison-brothers Falr and Sóti, and journey toward the brothers Randver and Önundr of Svíþjóð.

Ríma I

Viktor, son of King Vilhjálmr Rauðr of France, inherits his father's kingdom and spends all the gold in feasts. His mother rebukes him. Viktor rides away alone to seek glory. In a forest clearing he encounters a mysterious knight in blue — Blávus — and they fight to exhaustion. They make sworn brotherhood and step together onto a magic cloth that flies into the air.

Mansöngr

Desire's mother stirs up strife
and walks through memory's chambers;
sleep breaks from the silken threshold —
late will I find rest from this.

The warrior presses hard against
the root of joy's hall;
verse-strife plays its scent
before the fair white tree.

Yet shall I offer to the fair-veiled Frigg
the cup of verse;
the world-pillar's stream-horse
shall stroke the verse from the plank.

Narrative

A mighty prince ruled the French host,
one lord at the helm —
Vilhjálmr Rauðr, red at the battle-sword
and wielding his shield-strap.

The thrower of bright spears had won himself
a fair white lady;
by sweet comfort she nursed a free boy —
he shall break shields.

All men were to call the wise king's son
by the name of Viktor;
he was sharp-natured from an early age
and quick to summon a council.

The prince gained such skill
over all people
that no tongue could tell
his arts and his glory.

The king fell to a mortal sickness
that began to rule his life;
Viktor called his wise men quickly
and the dear noble queen.

The king spoke to a pleasant lady —
this I will make clear to men:
"Your child, thorny ground,
shall rule this kingdom.

I think him bold before lords,
fierce at breaking shields;
somewhat uneven in service to men,
yet he shall endure.

He shall defend the land of France for the people
with a brave sword;
rouse up the blood-rain among men,
ever keen to raid."

The king parted from his glorious life;
the lady began to weep sorely;
the noble wife of the prince
would have gone on that last journey.

Men asked Viktor now
to rule power and host;
the prince set up the costly
funeral feast.

He was lavish with warrior-gold
from the white wave of his hand;
Óðinn's raiment and glowing bright —
the kinsman's red field.

Left behind was no burned ring;
the king's noble lineage —
he flung from his hand the serpent's fire
among his brave people.

To men the feast seemed to stand
with honor and glory;
each carried enough of the gold-bridge
home to his own land.

The noble queen's lady came forward
and spoke, the woman distressed:
"Truly it is spent," said the bridge of riches,
"all your gold.

I do not wish to let
such feasts happen often again;
one can keep honor aloft
who has more in his treasury."

The lord of rings answered —
he would have his way;
Viktor founded another feast
and that one was no smaller.

The prince gave Draupnir's flour
and sated men with precious rings;
men took the kinsman's field
with the fair hawk-laden arm.

Courteously he sold the king's farms,
every castle and borough;
the fair lady heard this
and was troubled by it.

Men prepared to leave when the feast ended,
the worthy ones to go home;
the queen spoke to the bold man
of Óðinn's dear domain.

"A man is known here to us
who is less than kings should be;
your father ruled France before
and spent bright rings.

The lord fought fiercely
against hardened swords' groves,
he won gold by the spear-throw
and brought it home to his land.

You have spent all the wealth
with little deeds;
the sea's fire and silver burned,
stripped of wisdom's counsel."

Viktor answered the fair woman —
men, put this in mind:
"I shall empty this kingdom of me
and ride away at once.

The wise people shall hear of that;
I dare to ride the spear;
I shall earn the fir-tree of wealth
twice over again.

I have no wish to return
to French land before
the warrior's wealth is mine
and the abundance of the gold's fire.

Alone shall the prince ride
away from men on his horse;
my mother shall not see me
for many winters' time."

The sun's cloth, thick with silver,
wrapped the prince's body;
in the edges showed the hard cold
of the lord's stern sword.

The whole snake's journey blazed —
the lord's fair helm;
the shield with mighty making
proven in hard battle.

Saddle and bridle on the prince's horse
was set with the sea's light;
the shield-lord adorned himself most finely —
the king's glory shone.

The proud lord said farewell gladly
to the noble host of men,
a man upright, leaning on nothing,
and mounted in the saddle with glory.

That will be a hard challenge for many
and for the great lord of rings;
the king's son rode late in the evening
glad from his hall.

The lord rode off into the forest —
that will be heard widely;
he ruled the realm a short while
and the fine company of men.

Viktor drives the horse's heart
on narrow and long roads;
the horse grows weary, the forest is dark —
that will go more slowly.

The distributor of bright rings pressed on
into a forest clearing;
the horse was so hot from weariness
it seemed about to burst.

Viktor dismounted from his fair horse
and would rest there;
heavy drowsiness came most on the lord —
he would take his natural rest.

The prince woke quickly from sleep;
the sun shone so broadly;
the king's son saw a blue cloth
moving cleverly through the air.

The blade-wielder marveled at this thing
and stirred up battle;
it descended quickly to rest
where the lord stood watchful.

The champion steered the cloth-journey
cleverly with a white shield;
this bold man was girded with a sword
and adorned with gleaming runes.

He turned toward Viktor now
and greeted him quietly in the fairest way:
"I ask that you receive honor
and every kind of fame and skill.

I will keep arts and feats of play
with you, lord of lords;
the wise weave and the book's kin —
breaker of green shields.

Two times twelve winters
we have both at even age;
let us carry the bright spear in battle —
and not yield in the din."

Clearly I heard that Viktor knew
the lord's will to meet him;
hot anger swelled mightily —
let him test Óðinn's street.

The two lords spent a while
in tournament-riding;
much fame and a fierce bout
of wrestling and of skiing.

At the sports both princes
were equal to each other;
famous men they proved to be,
who shed rings of spear-blood.

They came together in the truce's heat
and waged battle fiercely;
it may be asked forever
that neither spared to die.

Warriors split mail-coats fast;
flesh lay bare on men;
the sword drove keenly
through each one in turn.

Viktor asked the fair man
who wielded these weapons:
"Branch of princes, I ask after
your dear lineage and name."

"Long has my chest been troubled;
I am called Blávus;
my lineage shall not first
be yielded in before the sword.

Let us make peace first and set truce
and speak our mercy to each other;
let us swear firm oaths
and follow each other thereafter, both."

"If you will not tell your lineage
then the red blood swells below;
the wound-sword shall bind peace
and bring death to each other."

Hot blood flowed from wounds;
battle-clothing burst open;
men are cut so keenly by sword
that both fall from exhaustion.

Blávus says that brotherhood-oath
he is ready to keep:
"No one was born more noble than you,
thrower of green shields."

Viktor answered the fair man:
"I will never deny that;
I grow palest in the rain of spears
and fallen in the sweat of wounds."

Blávus says from greatest weariness
he cannot move anywhere —
"unless you, best in virtue,
king's son, are good enough to sustain me."

The quarrel stretched long from this;
weary men were arguing;
each wanted in the sword-song
to show the other the victory.

Men tended their wound-rain;
the blood could boil between them;
neither counted himself cowardly in mind
nor deny pledges of faith to men.

Blávus turned to Viktor now:
"Let us step onto the cloth" —
that was set with the sun's bridge
and composed in all kinds of faith.

Viktor looked at his right hand
which was hidden in wounded pain;
the lord read those woven staves —
away the cloth began to run.

This cloth moved up high into the air
with cunning grace.
Here I will end this tale —
all verses are exhausted.

Ríma II

The cloth descends by a beautiful castle in a green meadow. Blávus reveals himself as a king — his father was a French lord, sworn brother of Viktor's father. They unite their realms. Jón of Africa comes with five hundred men to feast. Africa is given to Jón. The skilled pilot Kodier is also gifted to him. Viktor and Blávus go raiding and rout a host of berserkers.

Mansöngr

A feast I offer to the fair woman
to look on the waves of Hár;
she shall drink from the cup's rose,
winning the joy of white hawks.

Narrative

Far higher it flies now,
the fair cloth in the air;
men bound their oath together
and all their spirit.

Men looked toward a single land,
a fair meadow and green;
lying between across the broad country,
a bright and lovely castle.

The hall was adorned with skillful walls
and white marble stone;
it was drawn with Draupnir's shower
and dear walrus ivory.

Not far from the hall the people looked
at the bright level meadow and plain;
the cloth flies down to the field's patch —
men looked at this.

The wise lord hastened there
when they saw the cloth come down;
all Blávus's company welcomed it —
but few recognized Viktor.

Viktor seemed most beautiful there
when the wise man saw him honored;
the measured ground and the old-strap's bridge —
every kind of rank and bloom.

Now it is made plain that Blávus was
a prince of greater power;
he ruled the realm and the men there
with the red fire of the sea.

The king himself called for silence
before his dear champions:
"I will speak the lineage of the sword-rider
and make the name clear.

A lord ruled gloriously in France —
I heard him called Vilhjálmr;
here men may give to his heir
every honor.

We have bound ourselves in brotherhood-oath
and nothing lies between;
land and people, like the snake's bridge,
I lay half alongside the lord."

Men kept their land,
fair is their glory;
no one raids the free ground —
a man with a strong host.

That day came when men saw
a fleet's pillar come running;
no one on the foreshores could tell the number —
the fleet Blávus shall know.

Quickly the people gained land;
they laid sail by the rigging;
the sea was as if coal had been scattered
from a great fleet of ships and longships.

Viktor bade the fair horn
blow widely across the land:
"Here is a great company, proud in helms —
here strife must be made use of."

Blávus says there is no need
to blow the fair horn:
"Peace I will offer to the spear-men,
and not strive against the people.

Samárion is a peaceable man —
he may be called a merchant;
I say he knows neither wife nor child
who knows how to give battle.

He has cast his youth aside,
old age begins to tell;
let us offer a feast to the seething Geat —
we shall handle this man well."

Viktor did not hesitate
to prepare a glorious feast;
thirty men at once
shall steer the fine company.

The messengers carried it quickly,
and Jón said he would attend the feast:
"Here the lord's company shall have
all sitting quietly.

Five hundred shall follow me,
of fair ring-trees;
another host shall remain here,
all of it, and guard the ships."

Men came back to the castle;
Blávus told them this:
"The wise man comes with fair treasure
to receive the glorious feast."

Jón adorned his splendid men
in Agnar's white garments;
bright they had both the battle-teeth
and fine helms.

As soon as they stepped from the shore
the horn rang out a while;
men then gained sight of the broad one —
the castle on the level field.

Blávus turned toward the warriors,
pleasant and sharp in speech;
Viktor followed with feast-enjoyment,
watchful in hard steel.

They greeted the fair war-host;
each welcomed the other;
string-sound through the broad street
went quiet a short while after.

Men walked into the fair hall,
world-adorned with glory;
it was decorated with finger-work of flour
and fair sea-light.

Windows lit the gleaming hall,
glowed into the narrow street;
pleasant was the talk of men —
men took their seats.

Blávus spoke to the cheerful man,
and Jón smiled back:
"Age begins to lessen me
in power before many ring-breakers.

It is better to hold land
when a man sinks into old age,
than to ride the keen sword
into the hillside's falling eye."

Jón answered with dignity and trust,
bender of green shields:
"I see nowhere that land lying free
that we wish to hold.

Men keep their land
and their fair possessions,
but my nature plays me
toward winning land by force."

Blávus says it is Viktor's will
to honor him with glory —
kingly power with clever skill,
courtly rule and people.

"Take Africa, that fair land,
fairly for us both" —
Jón gave thanks for this gift
to the two men with deeds.

"There I will deal out to you in return
all my ships,
Óðinn's raiment and the kinsman's stone
and many wise men.

There is one man in my company —
I will give him to you;
he knows how to ride the hard sword
in red wound-sweat.

Kodier was always battle-ready,
clever for skillful deeds;
you two cannot afford to lose him
for many matters of wisdom.

He knows all the ways of weather
and the paths of all the currents;
he gives men wise counsel
and reads all dreams well.

He has steering under a strong host
to guide the ship's horses;
he knows thoroughly day as night
in the deepest harbors.

Along land and islands, lakes and sounds
he can count the routes;
no sailing can be delayed
before the sea's hound."

The man entered their company —
I heard that increased trouble;
they shall bear the bright mail-shirt
with sharp shield-rim.

Jón took the land and the fair hall
and the prince's rank in the land;
but the brothers held to the sea-field
with the swift strike of the blade.

They parted from the wealth and the ground;
ships ran from the harbors;
there blazed the red sea-man
and carried the whale on the prows.

Strongly they took the shield-serpent
to test with all their might;
Hildr's storm grew sharp
in the hard rain of spears.

Each berserk with the sound of spear-points
men let fall;
trodden was all the troll-kind —
taking the firm stair of Hel.

Each who could find it out fled
the swift spear-drift;
no one then wanted among men
to meet these champions.

The kin of men turned aside —
none dared to wait.
Now shall the cup-linden's neck
pass from the mouth.

Ríma III

Viktor asks who rides on Vandels' horses — great warrior-berserkers. Men say no one can fight them. Kodier names the brothers Falr and Sóti, full of poison and never known to flee. Viktor will fight Falr, Blávus takes Sóti. Kodier produces the Asalábia-skin — a magic garment proof against all poison — and gives it to Viktor. They sail sixteen days to the berserkers' island. Falr and Sóti sit in their seat. Viktor and Blávus challenge them.

Mansöngr

Gladly would I gladden a woman
and amuse the white swans;
illuminate people now with verse —
the arts of ancient months.

Narrative

Viktor asked the fair people
who ride on Vandels' horses:
"Where can one find that sword-rider
who will make battle with us?"

Men answered quickly to this:
"That one can be found nowhere
who thinks it worthwhile
to win against you."

Kodier laughed with valor then,
said many tried to fool him:
"What will find such a thing
that no equal can be found to it?

The world is wide and men are many,
hard in body's strength;
Sóti does not yield — he spreads like a wolf
at the neck-rain of spears."

"I wish to meet that man," said Viktor,
"the road is plain to fell him;
that one shall be sought out at once
or I will lie dead instead."

"My tongue was too long now —
I took such a thing to speak of;
long has your nature been slow
to give mercy speech."

"You will not find so fierce a man
with fame enough to fight against;
he shall put you on the horse
that fewest wish to ride."

"It would be shameful to boast longer —
I shall not hide such a thing;
you will find a warrior so great
who dares to try your weapons.

Falr and Sóti wage war
and never wish to run;
they shall increase the spear-storm
and grip the eagle's body.

They have won the sea's fire
and felled bold men;
the brothers dull the bright steel —
no iron can bite them.

They have serpent's nature a while
and are so full of venom;
they crawl down into the hard ground —
dangerous poison to be found.

The sea boils with poison to bursting,
all ships burn;
no one can endure these wonders —
though there is no choice but to run.

No one escapes your poison
and it destroys men's lives;
where then is your honor, Viktor,
and your combined glory?"

Viktor said he is not afraid of threats,
though the dangerous poison is great:
"Falr I shall go first against
and wage battle with my sword.

Blávus answered him, sharp and wrathful,
said he was ready for Sóti:
"Though he poisons the sea and ships,
I shall have my fortune.

Kodier shall show you the known road
to find the kinsmen;
then the shield-magic shall be tried
and the hard sword ridden."

The meadow's horse struck out with power
over the beautiful glacier's plain;
sixteen days they sailed, the hawk —
swift champions ride.

Men saw a single island
shooting up from the harbor;
there the men shall in the thunder's heat
break men's shields.

Many, many floated on the sea-horse's rope
far over the sea;
yet one of all was the greatest —
old horse on the waves at anchor.

There was a great multitude on land
and moved on the green meadow;
this people was wonderfully dark
and very great in everything.

Kodier said to their gathering:
"The choice is to yield shields;
here Falr and Sóti may be seen —
they seldom flee battle."

Men looked at these trolls —
that turned many from joy;
they bite so on Bölverk's field
and crash on Fjölnir's street.

"Champions, choose between two options," —
Kodier took to words:
"Here I shall part from the archers —
life must be saved."

Blávus swore by his faith,
and so did Viktor both:
"I will not deny that you see now
ahead of our counsel."

"Then champions shall go ashore
and make such counsel to strengthen;
here a keen blade shall be needed
to break Óðinn's rafters."

Kodier took from a chest then
a small pack of cloth;
"Dress yourself here in the blue helm
and the white coat of Grímnir."

It was sewn with green silk
and worked with honors, the garment;
cut with fair skin within
and written in all kinds of learning.

Asalábia was the name of the noble beast —
from it was this skin made;
no drinker of that discovers poison
who has power over anything.

It could cover the head entirely,
hands and feet on a man;
cold glass was set before the eyes,
joined of serpent-spine.

"This I got from the southern dwarf;
he said it bites nearly all things;
the adder is hard in the serpent-marrow —
now it is green to look at.

Viktor, take now this garment
which protects from cold poison;
Falr shall need to come nearer
who cleaves the fair shields.

If Falr falls dead to the ground,
that will be heard widely;
then Sóti, that tree of honor,
shall fight with Blávus together.

Then the shirt shall shield the prince's body,
cover flesh and life;
he shall guide it against the steel-blizzard
with the steel-edged wound-knife.

What is better than to wait longer
to hold the assembly of spears?
Fortune decides if all goes well
for the young thrower of shields."

They stepped forward to the seat
where the mighty two sat waiting;
they shall offer the sword's gold
and broil the raven's food.

No greeting was brought forward
to those men from the king;
Viktor spoke to them briefly —
one accustomed to riding swords.

"We have both over fire and land
sought to find you;
now shall the shield-rim be pushed
with the dark wound-serpents.

We four shall wage the dew of spears
for long stretches;
ride swords and try the blows
so blood bleeds beneath the men."

Sóti asked the man now:
"Tell your names
before we push the king's bridge
with the dark helm-dents."

"Viktor knows how to shape fair helms
with Viðrir's fire;
Blávus desires the sound of spear-points —
the man is ready to fight."

Falr grinned with bitter mood
and bit the red shield:
"You two have gotten the fated moment
and have frightened yourselves to death.

We shall exchange ships then
and govern all the archers;
terrible is the inheritance
that follows after you both."

Blávus answered, pleasant and smiling,
ready for battle:
"You cannot see which of you gets the victory —
man from the shield's cold."

Men stepped away from the people —
the day will move forward.
Óðinn's lore-scroll I let
wait for now.

Ríma IV

The battle with the poison-brothers. Viktor fights Falr, who casts Fáfnir's serpent-skin over himself and breathes venom. Viktor cuts off his ear and defeats him. Blávus fights Sóti, who also dons Fáfnir's skin; both take the slain men's captured armor — Blávus in Gjuki-woven gold with blue ivory shield, Sóti in Sól-forged byrnie. Blávus drives his blade through Sóti's shoulder and defeats him. They raise a mound for the fallen, divide the spoils, and sail east. Kodier warns of the brothers Randver and Önundr of Cold Svíþjóð — warriors mightier than any yet met. Viktor and Blávus swear to fight them.

Mansöngr

The rule I can rightly raise in verse,
though I fear the eagle's toil —
she will not settle easily into song.

Narrative

Soon warriors will charge onto the green field;
blood I trust will pour from wound-hollows —
warriors shall not escape old age by that.

Viktor dressed in a fine helm and the blaze of battle;
his byrnie was of hard steel,
hidden and set with giants' markings.

He bears always the shield — Hrungir's plank, the land of thunder-strap —
adamantine stood in the strong rim;
so hard a stone that little can harm it.

Wrapped in Hildr's garments, the tree of rings —
Viktor stood on the field, wrathful;
sorcery of the earth shall wake from this.

Falr has come onto the fair field, eager for battle;
he needs not fear any wonder —
the king's son shall await hard fate from this.

He bit into the red shield and cried out in a great voice:
"Truly I trust that Viktor will fall —
it would be near for the steel to ring."

Hard they take the sweep of battle with the rush of blades;
fearful was the drift of sword-edges —
neither would spare the other there.

Long stood the meeting of blades among men;
the king's son fought with zeal and skill —
evil Falr shall feel this.

He cast Fáfnir's skin over himself with monstrous trickery;
venom smoked from the fell demon —
it went just as Kodier had said.

The prince dripped with the weight of wounds
as venom roiled and thundered round the lord;
the rock stood clad in the grove of rings.

The king gave the dragon a blow that warriors heard,
eager to waken the bloodied man —
Falr must lose an ear.

The cheeks were stripped away from the demon,
though he called ever upon Þórr —
not all the might of the Æsir availed him.

Fáfnir's skin vanished, but Falr is slow in the battle-storm;
he stood half-bearded;
blood ran over wrist and leg.

He goes straight into the old hall in the spirit of the serpent;
the lord saw the beast standing there —
a warrior must now use his hands.

The lion would wound and bite the king's heir;
the destroyer came forward to strike —
it planned to tear flesh with its claws.

Viktor raised himself then with the bright war-blade;
the sword cut the black paw —
half the twisted cord followed it.

The great beast would turn upon the king-tree;
that gives men their life's end —
the destroyer saw the gold-bright flame.

I hear the log was hurled into the air with the clean blade;
the hidden thing came not near the storm of arrows —
he let earth and stones fall.

With both hands the prince wielded the byrnie-breaker;
Falr has come to the stillness of death —
gone are both his craft and his skill.

The blade cut the southron's companion from the demon;
then the battle was laid among the warriors —
Sóti swells more in his cunning.

Viktor steps away onto the field, shaking off his weariness;
in the same moment Blávus took both
the wound-fire and the glorious garment.

He takes the Gjuki-woven robe with clean gold;
before, no man had won its gleam —
clad in it, no weapon could touch him.

Widely blazed the sea-fire on the king's helm;
it outshone every green metal —
greatly sturdy in the hall of battle.

Dark blue was the king's shield, stone-set;
nowhere did it yield to blade or thrust —
hard-set with ivory.

The leaf-grove would not wait long then;
Sóti took the fair byrnie
that Sól had forged with steel.

He cast Fáfnir's wrapping over himself with the fair shield;
then warriors could carry swords
into battle with fierce fighting.

Warriors sharpen the storm of battle and blood rains;
the rack ran on the ridge of shields —
the flood of shield-rims flooded over the field.

Right away in the first exchange the white blade shifted shields;
the corpse-leek bit through byrnie —
it saw through both and tore the helm.

The helm gave way, the shield shattered, the byrnie caved —
none could see who would prevail;
Sóti became like a raging hound.

Grimly he drove his worthy blade like a swift shaft —
forward into the chest to work the arrow's joy;
Sóti is practiced in all manner of craft.

So was the warrior's fury and his might;
battle's byrnie was made to shake —
the king wanted to tear his throat.

The king's host and all men fell silent;
then Blávus was ready to fall —
men may call that a wonder.

Blávus drove his bright blade forward into the breast;
the point cut through at the shameful trick —
quickly it came out through the demon's shoulder.

The king drove the wound-point to cut through the trunk —
it avails most when dwarves have forged it;
bloody wounds burn ever.

Now warriors have won victory with fame and deeds;
they bear luck in both hands —
a great plenty from the serpents' lair.

Then it was time to choose fine ships and bold warriors;
a throng of thanes came to their side —
they must not linger long there.

Warriors had a mound raised on the open ground;
men together heaved with force —
great many oaks at the same time.

They divided the host and the great wealth in rings;
they carried down beside the dark ghost —
Dofr laid in the dark mound.

Warriors loosed the sea's horses from land;
luck can never fail them —
yet the greatest hope still remains.

Together with the crew the sail was fully set;
there was noise in the storm-hall —
the tempest roared on the sea's plain.

Ships drive before the wind on the sea-king's grounds;
men held to the sea's swell —
the ready prow cuts through the waves.

Eastward the sea-beast ran with men aboard;
long it seemed the sea was burning —
at last this storm died down.

The warriors asked Kodier then with keen words:
"Find that warrior with fair steel
who boldly divides the blaze of battle."

"You may press the shield-rim before long" —
Kodier spoke before the men;
he sat down and was long silent.

"Randver the strong reddens arrows in warriors' blood;
men bear heavy marks of this —
thick-woven he cleaves Fróði's byrnie.

Another is called Önundr the Greek, destroyer of men;
the brothers know how to cleave with the brand —
the ring of byrnie and the white helm.

With steel the proud brothers guard the lord's ground;
the king of Cold Svíþjóð rules —
and pours cups of ale to his men.

Beauty and might, valor and craft adorn these warriors;
the prince gave them a thousand men —
all must obey the brothers' will.

Randver has the byrnie named Brynþvari;
the warrior drives him into battle —
he reddens warrior-bands.

Önundr chooses for himself the spear that knows how to bite
through warriors' flesh and white byrnie —
he does not falter in the storm of arrows.

Each day they select two men to stand before their weapons;
they let none linger in death —
a warrior sells himself who goes there.

With steel the proud brothers guard the lord's ground;
every man who faces them is as dead —
who thinks to waken the wound-harvest.

No man can win in the storm of metals then,
if you two seek to meet the brothers —
swiftly shall your pride be stopped."

Viktor says this shall be tested at once with warriors:
"I shrink not before the fine gauntlet —
the king's son offers his open hand.

To test blows in the shield-dew against Randver the strong,
the hard helm and the ring-byrnie —
here the work of skill shall be made ready."

Blávus swore by the wound-serpent and the white byrnie:
"I shall let the edge bite
Önundr's flesh in the arrow-storm."

Here shall the wound's wine be drained in the land of strife;
the wave shall fall from Óðinn's blend —
here it shall best be settled.

Ríma V

The armies arrive at Kallda-Svíþjóð. Kodier warns of the brothers Randver and Önundr on their island of fifty ships. He counsels seeking the farmer Skeggkarl. Viktor bribes Skeggkarl with gold rings; Kodier explains the brothers' fearsome weapons. They make for the stone of Dínus the dwarf.

Mansöngr

So was laden with Sónar wine
Suttungr's keel when it came to me —
therefore shall Durnir's precious dregs
be scattered before many a man.

Narrative

Viktor made known to the men:
"I would gladly see those brothers —
Kodier will show you the path,"
the champion spoke quietly to the sword-tree.

The thane answered, not pleasantly:
"This road is long and hard —
I have no great desire to find those brothers;
your fate is ruled by doom beyond measure.

Under Svíþjóð, three islands
I know lying, all of them small —
there the mighty brothers hold
great power and mark of honour.

Always the islands are ringed
with keeled ships and fierce troops;
between them stands the keen prince,
heavy keeper of the brand-noise."

"Let prows cut through the lobster's ground,
wherever the sail is set against the bear" —
then shall the bond of floods awaken,
the storm's harm begins to grow.

The sail split each piece asunder,
the south-wind bore them in the biting gale —
the sea-horse's courage was tested;
Falr's and Sóti's are the best.

Ships flew over the salmon-ground,
the thanes got little mercy —
the raging one began to test his hands,
every warrior stands braced in the bows.

All the troops swam out;
none found comfort hiding from it —
they came to Kallda-Svíþjóð,
the prow plunged to the bottom at once.

From the islands the men got word —
now is the time to test their strength;
there the brothers hold their noble home
kept within with mark of honour.

Already fifty ships together
floated by that island;
the noble brothers in their tents
drank clear wine in good faith.

All harbours hid the keels,
very long is the fleet and broad —
the host of men shoots to the piers
the moment the sun rises.

A great host covered the shores,
every man among them clad in steel;
Kodier stood quiet beside the champions,
saying he was sick with dread.

"Kodier, give us wise counsel —
if we can win the champions their lives,
with wisdom and clear mind, ring-tree,
our honour now lies at stake."

"Few men know themselves —
ask me not of such things;
let there be no more of what I said
when I spoke of men's courage.

I told men this thing —
you will like it well enough —
many a man is hidden from himself,
and that may appear to men here.

There is one I should speak with —
not powerful, but of clean temper;
Skeggkarl is the shield-tree's name,
he grants honour and glory to warriors.

He was always as if iron-bound
in loyal counsel, old and new —
wherever the tree of leaves laid his hand
a meeting of minds followed.

Now shall we test his deep virtue —
we shall find the warrior's dwelling;
seek Skeggkarl and beg him well —
you shall confirm this for yourselves."

The men went to the homestead,
the farmer was outside and greeted them —
his manner of dress was of a fine sort,
a hood was knotted down between his knees.

Kodier stepped toward the champion then
and kissed him as quickly as could be:
"Sámarjón with me myself —
Skeggkarl sends you greetings.

Your request with a gentle heart
shall be brought forward in that same hour —
he swore on true faith
that he would never fail you."

Men were sent into your power
under trust and noble keeping —
he said to himself, the ring-elf,
a greater share than if he were himself.

Skeggkarl answers quickly in heart:
"The bound one I bid at once —
I offer life and goods as pledges;
let nothing be lacking on my part.

What has befallen these thanes
that Jón has sent them here to me?
Tell me as quickly as you can —
I shall never desert them."

"Viktor thinks now of the rain of weapons,
to wake up Randver's grief in answer —
against Önundr, Blávus is ready,
eager and prepared for combat."

The old man held the board-breaker to silence,
thought himself in hot haste —
the warrior stood and bowed his head,
wondering how things would turn for him.

He did not look on the men kindly;
the coats of mail lay there separately:
"Both of you will get shame and disgrace
if you carry yourselves further forward.

Men bear those two weapons —
may choose them for doomed men —
their strength and total valour
bears far above men and trolls.

Men have fallen at their feet before;
fewest can remedy such a contest —
a heavy load with hardship and pain;
my counsel will not reach far there.

It was gloomy, that doom-eager rush —
that you drove yourselves into the brothers' grip;
for weak men it is most fitting
to depart at once.

The neck is slender and the strength lesser —
you both might still turn back,
or else lose life and honour,
land and gold and weapons and ships."

Viktor pulled a fair ring from his arm —
it was made with burned gold —
the warrior played with the arm-ring there,
Skeggkarl looked long at the rings.

Viktor asked the weapon-reddener
whether he would take the fire of the sea —
the prince took the red ring
and reached it toward Skeggkarl, his compelled gift.

The hard words were gone and far away;
he thinks first of gold and craft:
"Powerful lord, it is well
that you choose such gifts for me."

A man was pleased when Blávus bore it —
no finer jewel found than that —
Skeggkarl cast his eyes now
and studied the linen-bridge at length.

The prince took the necklace from his neck —
the clever ring will grow there:
"Good farmer, keep this beside you —
it will give no victory to me."

Brightness glowed widely from the snake's down,
Skeggkarl lifted his brow at last —
he took another round of words,
and his eyes moved quickly into order.

"Men have sought me at home —
I received honours from both of them;
I found nowhere such men
who would be more glorious in all things.

Their faces are each bright,
all their stature turned to fine shape —
proud is the torso and strong the hands
that cleave thick rings of steel.

I received from the rings' burned metal,
and traded nothing in return —
youthful words and youthful ventures
are placed before the brothers.

I cannot get that Grettir's rock
repaid to them as is worthy —
unless we enjoy some help,
now shall Dínus's host be tested.

His dwarf-kin is large and young,
often the affliction grows heavy —
the people are small and wondrously many,
and they get little of the cloth-scrap.

The dwarf-days are uneven —
dark of temper but somewhat cunning —
he needs wealth and men's renown,
that will increase his sufficiency of honour.

Let us go first and find him
and test then what the dwarf can do —
that will be no light assistance
if he sets his hand to it completely."

The men looked toward the western hall —
it had come to the green field —
they stepped quickly toward the stone,
the dwarf was moaning loudly inside.

The thanes heard in that stone
heavy breathing and children's crying —
the host thought itself ill placed,
Frost said he had no gladness at all.

I let the sea of Har's horns
sail cunningly onward —
now shall the bare verse be kept in place
for the naked Greek here.

Ríma VI

Skeggkarl opens Dínus's stone. After much negotiation, the dwarf agrees to forge bewitched weapons — bright but soft as dough — and exchange them for Randver and Önundr's true blades. He uses an old man's disguise to lull the brothers' camp to sleep and switch the weapons. Then Dínus counsels Viktor and Blávus on the battle plan. Both armies arm for holmgang.

Mansöngr

It is shown to me that the string of sorrow
is set longer in my breast —
I always go away from gladness
where men wish to find entertainment.

Yet shall I set the southern sail-joy
still further forward —
the bridle-wind blew into the cloth;
it bears out of the water-track.

Narrative

It shall be set in the sixth branch
that men found the fair stone —
Skeggkarl lays his palm upon it:
"Open up, Dínus, my companion."

He opens the stone and looks out —
the dwarf does not lessen his trouble —
Skeggkarl recognizes him at once,
Dínus turns toward him.

He saw three other men there —
the dwarf gave himself no concern about them:
"So have you held still at the stone
that I received great harm before.

I cried out the loudest all night long,
the pain went to both ends at once —
now it is as if the hood has been lifted
from my head, and you have caused that.

Though it burned me through the sorrow-ground,
the thanes' brow seems to me always fair —
when some counsel is moderately tempered,
something fresh from the water-track."

"You understand rightly," said Skeggkarl,
"the men came here to you for that —
your dwelling on this night,
we have sought you with trust.

Gold is red to gladden you —
go not from your trust with me;
all the floor of wisdom, dig it out,
and give counsel swift and keen.

Never shall I take back those words,
though both life and strength waste away —
if you will lend your assistance,
I set toward it what I am able."

The men took ring and brooch —
it was full of serpent-oil —
Bruni offered pleasantly and laughing,
two bent hands meeting.

"Now I will ask of your name,
worthy warrior, at once —
shall the kin of men be adorned with honour,
or have you two kept any realm?"

"Viktor is the name of the weapon-Baldur,
accustomed to making the din of steel —
the other is Blávus the byrnie-Tyr,
he never flees the shaft-shower."

"Do not hide from me," the dwarf then said,
"warriors may be known before they fall —
whatever the thanes have need of,
I shall gladly give them help."

I heard Skeggkarl tell plainly then
the men's plan, clearly:
"Their victory seems to me
already set within your breast."

He let the dark brows fall —
the dwarf seemed not unpleasant —
the cheeks touched and the quick jaw,
the nose twisted back toward the ears.

"Skeggkarl, I can tell you this —
the thanes have drawn trickery on me;
the road toward men is not wise here —
there is no hope of felling those brothers.

I take the reckoning full of sea-fire —
here comes forth the old saying:
ever shall a gift pay for this;
good for those who take nothing.

I take back all those words of mine —
I accept nothing from the snow of Draupnir" —
he tossed the gold away onto the field —
"I never entangle myself in such a contest.

I struck on the anvil steel fine-grained,
Fjölnir's splits opened wide —
with the hammer's mouth and my hand
no harm can be wrought there.

So is my steadfast tongue-power
that no spell takes it back —
each is chosen to reach his cold end
when champions would have the doomed seen."

"Do you want to be contrary in this?
That goes against your own nature —
if you throw away that friendship,
we had bound trust before.

We laid such steadfast loyalty —
I trusted in your virtue —
if you bring falsehood to me,
I shall repay that to you terribly."

The men went away and Skeggkarl left —
but Skúfir bowed down in his cupped hands;
"Stand still," said Norðri then,
"now shall I look at the brew."

Dínus spoke, sad and sorrowful:
"Dreadfully vexing you are, Skeggkarl —
may I never go so astray
that I turn away from your friendship.

I have found this one single thing —
I do not believe it can be easily done —
I would forge the weapons thus
that they would serve as is fitting for the other side.

Both shall they be bright and yielding,
bite no harder than dough —
drawn with the red snow of Draupnir,
let them serve worst where the load presses most.

I would gain the brothers' weapons
to find out whether this would avail,
and put these ones in their place —
so the thanes need take no note."

The thanes took this counsel;
the dwarf accepted the seed of Fróði —
half a month shall be the waiting
for the steadfast brothers to fight against.

Men parted from Dínus,
and the dwarf would go to the smithy —
hammer-blows could be heard,
very steadily with the bellows.

That the warriors had set as their plan —
which most would reckon trickery and deceit —
men find the two brothers
and offer themselves to holmgang with them.

Both brothers answer at once:
"We shrink not from most men —
the harm is that the sword-flame
splits you two asunder in the middle.

My Brynþvari flies through the breast of men
and slips through shields —
the weapon that Önundr owns
makes men reach their cold end.

"That is nothing to fear," Viktor answers at once,
"if death is fated for warriors,
neither renown nor strength will avail then.

Earlier shall I fall dead
with glory on the battle-field
than bear the cowardice and shame
of failing to go against even one."

Randver laughed at his words;
Önundr spoke to Blávus then:
"The fleet-folk are a pleasant sight —
in the end they shall follow us two."

"The victory is no more yours,
gold-Baldur, than mine —
that may be known in the shield-storm
if longer life is fated to the other."

The men parted from each side,
each set terms for the other —
men find their own people;
more must be told beyond this.

Randver sat with a host of warriors,
the troop was brisk with men's power —
Dínus had brewed a scheme
set toward the brothers' harm.

Cunning folk were on the land,
the host had done their work there —
a staff-man stumbled toward them,
stiff and weary and slow in gait.

The warrior fell on two crutches,
could not get himself anywhere near —
tottered forward to the fire at last,
saying he had it passing cold.

He had many enquiries of news
and could entertain with wondrously much —
the brothers asked pleasantly
and bade the old man among them.

The old man entertained before those men —
wondrously learned about the whole world —
no man's news escapes him
that he would not disclose completely.

He got them all to sleep at once,
the clever brothers and their men —
switched the weapons as quickly as possible,
then hurried out into the dark.

Randver woke up first among warriors,
angry and greatly stirred:
"Where is that old man who knew most
and seemed most entertaining to the company?

Bring me the learned man —
more must be said to him —
it would be best to see him with tricks;
bring it about as may be done."

Önundr said it was no use
adding men the trouble of toil:
"He has now gone away from the men,
he has worked some trick."

The time passed through the trusty waiting,
the warriors readied themselves faithfully —
men came to visit Dínus's stone,
the dwarf was then little the worse for it.

He called quickly when he saw the champions:
"Come here as quickly as possible —
now has everything gone mostly
as we wished in our prayers.

Men have lost their weapons —
I expect that with cunning and craft;
this game turns in another direction,
a greater one shall be sent to them.

I have struck on the hilt-serpent
very hard with fine steel —
spells follow not lightly,
they are set for the brothers' need.

I arrange thus for the shield-rain:
Skeggkarl, employ your mind and strength —
he shall hold Víðrir's field,
Viktor before in the gold of brands.

Kodier, go before Blávus now,
make the strong trick-bridge of Fjölnir —
no steel stood in it there,
many stones have caused that.

No man need see me —
it will be shown to us from above;
if men get a pause of strength,
I shall prop them up somewhat.

Go now first and find the brothers;
renown and courage decide victory —
name both the time and place,
go to the strong fight.

Do not delay now, dart-host —
if the warriors would win gold and ship,
fair ships and costly weapons,
the greatest honour turns on such things."

Both the hard men then
armed themselves with blue steel.
The eastern ship shall be set up —
the ríma ends there.

Ríma VII

The holmgang. Viktor fights Randver; Blávus fights Önundr. Skeggkarl guards Viktor's field; Dínus works invisibly for both champions. Randver is cut down and dies with a heroic death-speech. Önundr falls to Blávus's blade and also dies nobly, blessing the victors.

When the brightness came to the land
and lit the level fields,
Viktor put on the blue byrnie
set with burned gold.

All clad in Agnar's wave-garments,
the prince's son, the generous —
the snow of Draupnir was drawn and adorned,
the dear prince upon the shield.

Blávus is now ready for battle
in the bright helm of Fjölnir,
Rögnir's wide and ample shirt,
with the red tent of Yggr.

The men go to the island
with the white ale of rims,
but the brothers in another place
all covered in steel.

Men trusted in costly weapons
and expected to enjoy victory —
he is cunning about the brewing scheme
and tricks the ring-breaker.

Randver seemed ready;
the ruler chose to challenge:
"Viktor, come to contest with me
if you want to redden shafts.

We two go on a fair field —
let no man disturb the warriors —
each man serves the other until evening,
our whole host waiting."

Stepped forward with strong might,
the shaft stopped in the shield —
Skeggkarl holds the gate of Skrímnir,
he arranged it as he wished.

Randver was first to strike
with the sharp flame of Grímnir,
and it was as if a burning fire
lit from the burned steel.

The strength of two warriors broke
against the fleet wood of Auðr —
both warriors turned so,
ready to fall.

Dínus gave warriors assistance,
earnest and knowing in counsel —
he propped men hard from behind
and sheltered them both from that side.

The guard ran into Víðrir's wife,
out of Viktor's shield —
the rim-knife will be tested then
by the prince's son, the generous.

"Badly did Dínus plan with trickery and deceit
to betray us —
weapons stolen and tricks set;
hardly can his equal be found."

Viktor urged on the weapon-throng
with the fair moon of Hildr —
his spirit served, but the deaf song rang,
the bright edge grew bloodiest.

The shield's rim came into the rim of the shield,
split asunder in the middle —
with that followed the right hand
and the neck from the shaft-work.

So ran down along the ribs
the white moon of rims —
then the thigh found the tree of leaves,
the edge was happy to bite.

The wound-serpent sliced asunder
sinews and bones together —
the fierce one bowed down from the wounds,
a broad torrent over the field.

Randver spoke through a mighty wound,
brisk and said from there:
"Hel rushes to our ship —
she must have come in an instant.

Most praises of glory strengthen you;
that may easily be granted —
you will think to inherit from me
and gain the sweat of compulsion.

Prince, let you raise a mound of glory
on the green field;
enrich it with the lake of Ófnir
and the white swelling of serpents.

My Brynþvari, as I had made bright for you —
the wicked dwarf stole it —
lay it in the mound; that pleases me,
the bright destroyer of byrnies.

Let not my Níflúng name
lie long down below —
he will be few men's equal in speed,
the flinger of the steed of the beginning.

No prince is better for you
than to follow my counsel —
you shall quiet the battle here
and steer your ship.

For me poured in the hall of virtue
the dregs of Hel's mine —
now shall our talk come to an end,"
said the one of gentle temper, the shrewd.

Önundr looked on the life-harm
of the destroyer of Víðrir's tents,
the struggle blazed over the temper's plain
from the defect of the green shields.

He blew hard at his brother's fall —
Blávus will know that —
the heart's stall was struck nowhere;
he would avenge him, he believed.

The champion spoke to the spear then,
crushing the shaft from his strength:
"Therefore shall the point be Blávus's
and death in the rain of shafts.

Better would it be, brother there,
to dwell in the black mound
than to be overcome on the island
and receive the bright gold."

"Let us rend the red shield
and the ruler's thought-hold —
I reckon little Randver's price,
though both warriors should fall."

He howled wild in the township of grimness,
grabbed the strong spear —
aimed forward at Fjölnir's sky,
eager for works of skill.

He refused the throw but the twig moved,
fell out of the shield —
all lurched but the pale shaft
went as Dínus had wished.

The bright byrnie-fire failed
and broke in wound-blows —
warriors struck as before
from the corners of the fallen field.

It was as if a steadfast pillar stood,
propping up the helmet-pitch —
Dínus was therefore bold and strong,
and the warriors saw him not.

Önundr saw that it would avail nothing —
fate must decide:
"Weapons are stolen from men,
and both our thanes bewildered."

Blávus wielded the wound-wand,
struck in the rain of shafts —
split the prince's rim double
and went down so through it.

Nowhere did the edge stand in steel,
all bindings gave way —
the brand cleaved the breast of the man,
he was struck down to the field.

Önundr settled with wounds down
and wrapped clothing around himself —
he never blew from beneath the wound
and spoke this from weariness.

"No man shall trust in himself
or put himself forward beyond his station —
more than the world's bright clay
and fortune will let it go for them.

We two both thought, brothers,
to bear away from the skilled hosts —
as if a burning sky-gleam
glows beside all metal.

Precious ones we have drawn Draupnir's snow
from every land —
ourselves gave the sound of swords
and quelled people on the blade.

No man is so forward or famous
that tricks cannot deceive him —
no one escapes his death-day;
many are hidden from themselves about this.

Men's power and wealth are emptied,
weapons as the keen host —
now shall the most famous men on sea and earth
call you both glorious.

Though my inheritance and wealth were emptied
and I must suffer Randver's grief,
I would choose to fall dead
and follow my own loss.

You, Blávus, I want to beg the name —
humbly, at Hel's honours —
that one will truly be the ship's rudder
and strong in many counsels.

If a man of glory rushes here
and tries to take the weapons,
he shall own the wound-serpent,
the winding compulsion of limbs.

Much better, brother there,
to dwell in the black mound
than to be overcome on the island
and receive the bright gold."

"Randver's counsels shall then
turn to the warriors' honour —
may neither men nor trolls
darken your bloom."

Önundr fell down to the field,
eager for glory and skill —
the breast was gashed and the belly cut
on the plank-destroyer, the splitter of Rögnir.

The bold men gained gold and ships;
they gave oaths of trust to the warrior —
no dart-tree was found hidden
who dared to deny the truth.

Men let a mound be built
and every detail attended to —
here shall be enclosed the lake of Boðnir
at the craft of stone in the hall.

Ríma VIII

The brothers Randver and Önundr are laid in a magnificent mound with their gold and weapons. Viktor and Blávus speak of the grief and the trick. Skeggkarl is given rule of the islands. Dínus disappears invisibly. The host sails home to France and Viktor's mother. A feast of return.

Mansöngr

The stream of Víðrir I let run —
now shall a new song be raised;
more useful would I entertain people.

I ask thanes to heed this verse;
I strive more for Steingrímr's will
than the fall of consonants or power of words.

Narrative

Men bent oak together on the field
and attended there to all the work —
the mound then was high as mountains.

The men carved a fine throne from gold;
it was adorned with ivory
and wondrously many precious stones.

In the mound burns the red fire of the sea —
it was never dim in the draugr's hall;
the costly ring-choice causes that.

The brothers were borne on the high throne with adornment;
they carry the emperor's garments all together,
laden with the dear snow of Draupnir.

The curtains were woven with the fire of the Rhine;
gleaming silk and purple and linen —
the thanes folded the fine cloth.

Cheeks were to face each other on their seat;
on their knees was set a fine game-board,
carved with the plane of a hand.

The chosen weapons both shall come into the mound —
Brynþvari stands by the man-plank,
the brave twister and the blue spear.

Blávus speaks at the thanes' sight of the dead:
"This deed is already famous;
it has lessened our honour.

Men bore stature and strength with skill —
beauty and powers, renown and vigour —
far above other thane-hosts.

I won Önundr by tricks more than skill —
never did I bring strength to manhood;
I might be counted equal to a thane."

Viktor says it can hardly be concealed:
"I handed over both honour and glory
to myself when I was turned loathsome.

Quickly shall that be known near and far;
more has trickery felled them
than we can gain glory from.

It little suits to mourn a thane's death —
let us think on it while the world turns;
scarcely their like will be found."

"Peace be to them and true worth with mercies —
let us close the mound and carry in gold;
that is full honour for the brothers."

The mound was closed and the host drank the funeral ale —
so the dwarf Dínus went from there
so that no one could see through the doors.

Skeggkarl asked to rule alone over the islands;
the thanes answered at once:
"That shall be done as the man has bidden."

The warriors would reward Dínus's help;
they gave him the finest ring —
he was glad and thanked them.

"Should Blávus need men and counsel,
then the champion shall call me —
I will come swiftly to find you.

Now must this be held — battle with brand —
let the raven of the sea fly over the salmon-land;
the heron's carrier has enough gold."

Viktor is eager to visit France at home;
men of glory have won their honour —
first load the ships with gold.

The thanes let the planks of wolves float
until with a storm the current shortened —
they steered the ships over the lobster-low-ground.

It was as if Kárr scooped snow from the sea —
the serpents flew with snap of strength
forward on the broad plane.

The sharp wind roared in the rigging and the planking;
the keel cleaves every wave —
cold sea drifts over the thanes.

Never shall the ships' rollers rest —
they took France's sea-beasts,
the shaft toward the bottom with the ropes turns.

All harbours hid the clean prows;
that fleet was long and broad —
lay there dragons and gilded ships.

The host clothed itself in Hildr's bound garments;
the prince's fort took note of this —
anger swelled hot in the thanes.

The queen looked at the warriors clad in steel:
"I would wish," said the bridge of the stream,
"that Viktor were ruling the realm now.

This host is too hard for reckoning —
the fort will be emptied and the foreground won;
we will suffer enough loss of thanes.

The land has been held with the lance-rist —
the young earl who won that achievement
was called Eirjón by name.

He never fled the sharp hail of shafts —
he was Viktor's fair kinsman,
forward in attack and very fierce."

Men thought they were defending fort and land;
messages sent and troops gathered —
the host rushed there quickly.

The ground is wide and good for men to gather —
the war-host grew as thick as flies;
greatest was the din by the sky of Hildr.

The troop with red shields drifted from the ships;
Viktor goes first among men —
the wolf-guard is eager for blood.

Steel covered the ruler's bright face;
the lord took on a closed helmet
and lifted it from the dark metal.

When all recognized the young ruler,
the bold men put away grimness and anger —
the host cheered and lost its grief.

The earl needed no longer to hold back the iron-shower;
the prince thanked his manhood then
that the flock had shown itself for him.

The news of his inheritance has sprung forth —
the woman came with beauty and smartness;
I heard that gold was not spared there.

Turns to the ruler the bright vessel's niece;
she lays her arms about the bright neck,
the temper greets the sea-flame's warmth.

"Mother, you shall hold a worthy feast —
I come there with the thriving host;
there shall be given the fire of the sea."

The woman held an exceedingly fine feast;
the fort could not hold the host of men —
the finest troop is in the vaulted halls.

In the tents the noble host is to drink;
neither wine nor food is lacking —
all is given with joy and skill.

Viktor gives men now the waves of the sea;
he used this so that enough was wealth —
now is wealthy he who was poor before.

Blávus gives men red rings;
gold gets it as well as a thrall —
the poor-as-wealthy thanks the ruler.

Gold flies as embers glow in the storm;
men pour from both hands —
each gets what he has acquired.

The feast went with ceremony out and show;
full hands from the sea-steam —
most thanes carried home.

Warriors now take rule of the realm in the land —
men will have their eulogy;
all is drunk as Víðrir's ale.

Ríma IX

Back in France, Blávus notices Viktor's unusual beauty and proposes a bride. Viktor refuses all noble women. Kodier praises the incomparable Fúlgíðá of India. Viktor falls lovesick. He sets out alone with Kodier despite Blávus's refusal. They arrive at Fúlgíðá's court, where she receives Viktor with a sumptuous feast but then has him stripped, beaten, and expelled.

Mansöngr

The lake of Boðnir blends now for the bright lady —
heed the building of the praise-work,
the rings' staff with adornment.

Bold men now with refined faith
keep rank and realm —
none found in this world
who would be found their equal.

Narrative

One certain day, as is often the way,
men sat at chess —
the household on the wide field
began to build fair joy.

Viktor sits and the ruler's face
was as snow or lily —
the cheek is red as rose or blood;
warriors may know that.

Blávus sees, as was shown to me,
the prince's bright face:
"Never can he," he answers,
"look enough on Viktor."

He speaks so much about the prince,
destroyer of Fjölnir's streets:
"Your honour, cheek of mine,
bears high above meeting kings.

Beauty and strength and wisdom
the ruler bears above all —
craft and vigour in the rain of leaves
far above the keenest maidens.

You will gain with your high honour
the fair silk-branch —
that bride who would so bear
bloom from every bough."

He answered quickly with honour and spirit,
the waver of sharp brands:
"Who is that fair lady
that you bring to our hand?"

The champion counted and chose the options —
daughters of kings and earls —
Viktor laughed; he would have none of them,
and it will surely fall heavier.

"Choose then kinship such that our fame
is wisely set for us both —
it is shame that you lay falsehood
and block the counsel of honour.

Counsel is needed if we want sway
to be given to the silk-trunks —
a great many maidens are of accomplished virtue
most in the whole world.

South and west the honour is greatest
of rulers' daughters to tell —
north and east the Níflúng brave;
there is plenty of maid to choose."

He answered angry, the tree of rims,
with the ruler's sharp speech:
"I would sooner go into burning fire
or be split limb-sundered by steel.

We have heard that those ladies
know falsehood and lust —
that is our shame if our valour fails;
I will grant them nothing."

Kodier thereon, who reveals the game,
I say so his words went:
"One precious clean drop is found —
the noblewoman gets none her equal.

Her honour becomes so smooth —
I gild no lie —
above woman's manner and virtue's might
as gold-ore beside lead.

The staff of Rist bears more art
than the ruler's heir could trust —
I know moreover that all men
marvel at her adornment."

"It is shame to break virtue,"
Blávus decided to say,
"better is silence than this speech
of praising the thorn of Rist."

"I see this — that evil shall come
out of your boasting —
that song tempts but is too long;
the tongue stands in your skull.

If you say more of the silk-Eir,
I will tear the sail-tree —
there shall be no delay: the Hagbarð-horse
to Hel shall you ride."

He trusted now from both sides
reluctantly to say more —
because of that command that Blávus won;
better for him to be silent.

Viktor is hardened in trials —
no more knowing than before —
sorrow eager around his house
clearly began to pinch him.

That heavy compulsion, that red rose —
the powerful lord weakens —
he laid in bed that sharp champion,
from all comforts turning away.

Blávus thinks, brave in deeds,
Viktor ready for death:
"Kodier, find my companion,
bowed down with sick grief.

From the great woman who washes you,
the wretch of hardships —
tell quickly, so my glad one
then gladdens the loss."

Kodier went to the powerful warrior
and raised pleasant speech:
"I swear that fame travels
from Fúlgíðá so widely.

She rules alone over every branch
of highest India-land —
two kings with gilded spear
go closest to her.

Many a lord before this —
so quickly and boldly —
has sought her land,
badly shamed and afflicted with hardships;
all were denied.

Take my counsel: toward her land
hold in no manner —
but if it goes, then I expect for you
honour and worth given."

"Short of courage, soft of heart,"
Viktor loudly spoke —
"you shame yourself, but shall not I
find that clear noblewoman."

Straight at once to Blávus's meeting
Viktor bore the strong one:
"My desire is your fellowship —
the notable lady to meet."

The lord spoke quickly, glad:
"Nowhere do I go now —
decide it yourself, arrow-elf;
I trust in my own luck."

Viktor goes with a vigorous host
against Blávus's counsel —
no man so famous was found
from the seedfield of Fýrisvellir.

The gracious troop on the herring-bench
steered the fine sail —
the maid of the meadow came near,
it glows on sail and tackle.

The precious host ran quickly,
droplets past the slim ship —
the shoal of Rán with the flood's power,
mighty winds drove them on.

Rán's fry surged at men,
grew with three ice-lumps —
no horse of the sea's bed
before the wash could be known.

The surf high with amazing might
on the wave-serpent thundered —
Ymir's blood over the prince's host
and all the planks resounded.

The daughters of the sea, days like nights —
Dúfa and Blóðughadda —
cried loudly and blazed quickly
on men placed in distress.

The weather eased; men spoke —
they had land before the prow —
Viktor's troop then, glad,
in silk and flap-sail wrapped.

Viktor's smartness is more than many —
men most fair in sight —
the bright face above brow and breast
laden with Ófnir's fittings.

The lord enjoyed himself, shot to the piers
near the bride's hall —
the heroic man steps onto the ground,
his hands adorned with the snow.

Fúlgíðá in high honour
sent keen warriors
to Viktor's meeting, the fair noblewoman,
and offered wine to drink.

To the hall the powerful Viktor turns
to accept the good feast —
Fúlgíðá was among her women
and greeted the powerful prince.

The feast stood well with honour;
Viktor moved in speech
to the wisdom-noblewoman
pierced with the steel of love.

"Your wisdom and maiden's might,
the keeping of men and land —
your kindness bids me therefore beg you,
with kindness, for your hand."

The maiden's face of the kinsman's dear one —
the earth loses its colour now —
red and blue became the refla's Ná,
just as the earth brown.

From heavy mood with metal-reddening words
spoke the swan of worth:
"Your boldness and foolish keeping
is half again more than fitting.

Over India-land with the right hand
I rule over powerful lords —
your deception is clear — you drew to me
in such fool-tricks.

It would be near that if we wished
you would get a vile death
for the shame and blame that scorns hard
your poor France-land.

But for your wit and fair face —
the ruler's son of worth —
you are the one young lad
I would wish to shelter, the prince.

A kist you might if you have
throw into our hand —
for love's sake, and go with trust,
that gold can never fail.

Then there is hope that the king's son
shall be seen in my bed —
well kept, I count Viktor
certainly glad in his temper."

The south-wind sprang up pale —
it seemed most like blood —
the lord's fry surged at men
and the elf of the world sought.

So was led and truly cut,
the king's son by a mile —
into a wide loft-house there lay before one
a cunning noblewoman in bed.

The king's son counted and chose the clothes,
glad about his life —
in a single shirt, from ring-land led,
he settled so beside the wife.

Bold-eager on the fair cup
Fúlgíðá decided to pour
for him and for herself —
but I was told each will think their own thoughts.

When the powerful warrior drank,
sleep ran to the breast —
she then thrust him away from her
quickly with great force.

Not at all pleasantly was the five-sword-wielder's hair cut —
men ran boiling pitch
to his head in return.

Dragged out of bed with injury —
the swan, I trust in that counsel —
badly beaten, the hard ruler,
the skin had torn.

The flesh white was struck with blows,
then out of the hall
the body red born as dead,
helpless in every way.

A stream under the king's son —
then Kodier found him waking,
the gold-ground all rigid,
especially below at the middle.

Right in place on the current's glad
he brought the ruler's heir —
linen and bedding with healing
nourished his body.

Again came a wind as before —
all rigging shook —
the wave-hawk moved under the current;
all — landed in France.

Blávus met the ring-enjoyer
and the thanes went pleasantly —
now thinks of the fair lady
and asks how things went.

"I let the hall and all the houses
be hung with clean divine-cloth —
I am ready; therefore I invite you
to hold your wedding."

"I want to see that Auðr's Ná
whom the powerful prince sought" —
sharp at all but the cooked bowl
seemed to the company cooked.

"Far from it that the journey should be
the prince's daughter so clear —
do you now, for the fair lady,
foster-brother, deceive me?

Whatever passes, never shall I in the end
stop seeking her —
to India-land with a host of men;
luck will grant that."

"The powerful voyage will then be seen
if the golden sails were stretched —
though the cost is great in our journey,
I would advise it for you."

"Not now — I will not
set out on such a mad errand" —
the year flies, he readies himself back
to India-land as quickly as possible.

The courtship-voyage was quick and swift —
the sea-serpents glide —
on the grey sea, and Kodier there
showed the path so fair.

Kárr raised and the knörr took
around the grey yard to stop —
good was the toil but men lost the sleeping
of Glens, the fair bed.

They kept the noise and hardened the rope
by the wave-steeds fatigued —
there came up out of the blue sea
good India-land.

Scarcely may beside such a sea
the Lofn's white woman be found —
she showed herself aged
as Sámarjón to see.

Jewels and gold was
abundant in the merchant's possessions —
neither silk nor rich cloth
had anything for hire.

Tediously might be counted
kindled gold and stones —
the clear silk bought over a year
and the cloth there with it, clean.

Not was the shaft slow in the sand —
so had the piers shooting —
Sámarjón on the woman's land
thinks to enjoy glory.

The swan let many fine men
go to shore —
bids them as they came from the sea
a good feast and a long one.

The brisk man found the woman
and fifty there plus two —
sorrow-free the merchant found
cups and horns to fill.

Neither altered nor adorned —
the blood of Kvasir drained —
badly worn, though I am weary already
in the eagle's clay:

The shower of words against the wall of praise
makes my singing lag —
outward the verse is no fair thing
that you might build upon.

Ríma X

Viktor and Kodier return to India as the merchant Sámarjón. Fúlgíðá shows off her treasures. Viktor lures her onto the magic cloth, but she outmanoeuvres him and he falls from the cloth into a tree. She rides away. He finally descends; Blávus finds him and mocks him. Viktor confesses all.

Mansöngr

Never did youth encounter me as obstacle —
age becomes most ugly for all —
now the stump has fallen on the foot;
therefore wisdom's root creeps.

Hateful is everyone in ugly need;
little are the turns for most —
terrible become health's works,
decaying then by wisdom's toil.

Fortune shifts healing best,
whatever is cut among people —
it went rather mostly against me,
men lost and money broken.

Narrative

Sámarjón and the ring's Ná
sat on one throne together —
like was the woman's face to see
as the white lily or the blue rose.

The lord gladdened the drop-bridge,
daring such at my faith:
"The gentle lady begins for us
to bid you to a feast now."

The bride answered bright as snow —
the beauty smiled at all the words:
"Have you precious dragon-field
abundantly gotten in the gold of rims?"

"I would describe more fairly the lady-tree —
the whole world is known to me,
the lands, islands, plains and mountains;
men and trolls have lost their lives.

Southward in the world I sailed quickly —
I managed to gather a ring-host —
I stood in thin steel shelter;
blood poured swiftly out of wounds.

Northward over sea from the northern course
I nearly loaded every ship —
the sword-edge cut the white byrnie;
I woke men to wound-magic.

Over the western sea I felled the most —
I got then no honour's gap —
with the red gold of Ræfill's horse
brave men loaded from their greatest effort.

Eagerly I desired to get that gold
that bold men last could reach —
here may the noblewoman look on the dragon
and many precious treasures."

"Show I will," said the silk-clean woman,
"prince, to you on this branch,
clear jewels and clean cloth,
golden charm and precious stone.

Burned gold," said the shrewd bride,
"shall be carried out in my yard —
none shall dare this time
to step over the wall in."

The fine woman took up the jewels
and showed them to the good sword-enjoyer —
that is a dangerous wound-remedy
if no countercheck comes.

There rushed many thanes toward it,
pushed hard forward at the wall —
the bright gold gleamed with rays;
enormous is the woman's ornament.

The lord thought deep thoughts —
if he could gain the dear noblewoman —
that thorn-ground paid no heed to it,
there was cloth spread wide on the ground.

They came up on the costly cloth —
that was clearly known to the company —
the shaft-wood and the cheerful woman;
the ruler has steered toward tricks.

The lord weighed the cloth —
the cloth loosened from the earth —
this astonished Þorna's Ná;
it carried higher than mountains to see.

Viktor recognized the stream-pool —
she was taken from the land away —
he spoke then to the tar-Gautr:
"Prince, you have won the trial.

Before, I broke trust with the ruler" —
said the ring-bridge, reddening —
"you will not inherit from the lady,
if I offer peace now, prince."

The prince answers the woman:
"No one shall trust your promises —
then shall warriors drink wine
when the noblewoman comes home to me.

For that shame which you got for me
no delay shall be given you —
you shall lose your maidenhood here;
it goes less than is deserved."

The ruler steered toward France —
the woman's face then paled —
there may herbs and apples be gotten,
all kinds of grass and blue flowers.

White one began to ask the shield-Hrund,
spanning gold with shrewd mind:
"What is that green ground?
The noblewoman desires to know such."

"France has thereby lost its fame —
you will get here no wine nor provision;
therefore the people bear little art —
that may be seen, ring-Rist."

"Honey drips from every stalk —
here every kind of plum may be gotten —
the wine runs by the forest;
there lies fragrance and sweetness.

I want to take an apple here, just one —
I have not tempted you before —
nothing else will then be given
if the prince lets anything for this."

The staff read the ruler of steel;
cloth fell down to the oaks below —
the ruler thought about tricks;
the woman bids with tricks.

The lord reached out as far as possible —
before the linen-tree he would reach for the apple —
she stuck hands on his shoulders;
he toppled then off the cloth.

The branch received the lord gently —
he harmed neither hand nor foot —
the cloth arranged itself, the cunning woman;
she read herself up from the spear-breaker.

The lord sat in the branch pleasantly —
the wood is both tall and wide —
he sees then where the swan moves;
grief gathers hard around the heart.

So was the woman's journey smooth —
she stepped home in the realm's course —
men greet the silk-rider;
the tale turns to the ring-tree.

Rist cut the truce with him now —
the warrior to the ground tall —
branches distributed the cloth in small pieces;
the king's son reached the earth quickly.

He saw a rider riding alone —
no squire followed the warrior —
hung by the side was the twig of corpses;
the blue helmet and clean shield.

This one came forward to the thane,
at once and nowhere waiting —
Blávus knew the fair lord;
the burning grief stings through the heart.

Viktor spoke to the ruler's son:
"Be it granted to you every hour —
might and honour on many a way;
very glad I am at our meeting."

"Crawl you from the wide road,"
Blávus spoke to the shaft-Gautr —
"otherwise I will cleave the coat-hollow;
that blow will come to a hard trial."

"Speak not so hard, prince —
loyalty we have bound quick —
scarcely did I get the bright woman;
much trial will be ours."

"If you think to lie longer,
little will you gain from that —
a strong cord shall be pressed on your neck,
held straight as a wretched man."

"Very little have you minded words —
you will not get this quarrel —
all was the strife settled with words;
the prince then with bondage reconciled."

"That may be — you say truly" —
Blávus answers, not standing still —
the ring-Tyr jumped from his horse;
the other then was glad at heart.

"Your trappings are most ruined —
the forest has caused that to the west —
where is your shelter and your best knife,
clean gold and sea-horse?"

"That shall the sea-elf tell you —
I brought the swan home with me;
the gem-stone Gefn I left here;
the gold she had all with her."

"Prince, you had a heavy burden —
you have been deceived by the ring-Rán —
it is risky to expect revenge;
each comes down on the other's shame.

I see this," said the byrnie-Baldur,
"bride, if you want to increase the strife,
the fall of Fjölnir happens earlier
than you get the lady for all your life.

Third time shall the shore-strand
increase burden and evil words —
you will get neither lady nor land;
the prince loses life and soul."

"I would wish," Viktor spoke then,
"there were some choice —
I could get the gold-Ná of gold —
to go through life as may be."

"That shall begin, prince — grant
as it has always been told for you;
I will say to men here:
see not, wait therefore — mercy departs.

We build a fort on broad ground —
arm ourselves home in that same hour" —
Blávus has with gentle mood
bound a fine saddled hound.

Viktor stepped on a fine horse
with the good weapons and best clothing —
then there was no delay on the journey;
horses tested their gallop at the most.

Men came to the wide hall —
the household all greeted both.
The gleamer shall here keep the jewel-tree
the fine mead-field.

Ríma XI

Viktor and Kodier disguise themselves as monks. Word reaches them that Fúlgíðá lies desperately ill. The younger brother — a renowned healer — is summoned. Dínus the dwarf arrives in monstrous form. He is revealed to be Blávus in disguise. Fúlgíðá and her attendant escape on the magic cloth to France. Viktor and Fúlgíðá are reunited.

Mansöngr

Good is it for those who gladly will
heed entertainment —
he can adorn himself with splendour,
for sorrow does not suffer to come.

Every man should thrust anger from his heart's house —
he is in the highest ban of the world
who grieves over what is far from truth.

It is sweet to men in plenty, they let it be known —
though each desires the same palate's plank —
whether it goes according to each man's will.

Uneven becomes for many the knowledge that toil fails —
those who lay hindrance against me,
I allow them not enjoyment of verse.

Bölverkr's bellows-roof I had to blow to a spark —
if the eleventh could be squeezed
from the verse-cliff, that shall be tried.

Narrative

Praise the strait of toil about the ruler's heir —
Viktor missed the bold woman;
scarcely did he get the useful rise.

With tricks she robbed the ruler of the fire of the Rhine —
foster-brothers in the Frankish realm
drank famous wine on one evening.

"Now shall I begin the courtship-journey," said the shrewd Blávus,
"you shall rule the high landing-stage,
the warrior troop and the northern prow.

None would I wish that the gold-ground could diminish our wealth —
I shall tighten craft and luck;
that shall be made clear by morning."

Viktor gave no answer to the ruler's counsel —
brave men glanced toward their mercies —
the visor put both kings to sleep.

He raised speech as was shown to men of brow-fire:
"Our shame cannot be checked —
more disgraceful than your rise.

Let no ship be readied on the herring-road" —
Kodier followed the gentle king;
their great bodies hidden under cowls.

I do not find that their journey was earlier in light,
but India-land though men praise it —
I was told both chose it.

Together they brought tricks and counsel on the wide field —
the maiden-king's hall they found;
she was dearest in all the land.

They came together to the city-crowd with gentleness,
claiming to be from the lower ranks,
yet learned in knowledge's seating.

The abbot who had abundant sea-gleams
ruled one rich cloister —
he reckoned himself wanting brothers.

The monk's rule the warriors accepted, good counselors —
one was named the younger brother,
the elder the other, and both learned.

The younger brother had one art most —
skilled above most men —
I heard him never fail at healing.

Long was he praised most by people's hosts —
ends victory over all sicknesses;
the toil he had most on nights.

Up came what to all seemed the heavier matter —
the sickness began with the ring-string the thin;
told then to the younger monk.

Who knows if men could know any trick —
the maiden's flesh became earth-dark;
she lay between two spindles.

All the limbs with ugly sickness swelled —
Fúlgíðá those evil ones puffed up;
terrible sores with the burning ulcers.

Skillfully asked the linden of gold if a good
healer was a brother within the fort
that her sorrow might be bettered.

The great lady sent a dear one to the cloister-men:
"Now will the world deny fortune —
help us with true healing."

Too long such a work draws away —
the monk was reluctant to the maiden,
though little way of health.

The abbot, so specially wise, spoke in words:
"All responsibility is on your hand
if you let the woman die."

The brother said: "All else is nothing —
to fumble about her bare flesh
that crosses our rule across."

The abbot raised words a second time:
"I will gladly permit you healing —
you must deaden the plague."

The brother would benefit the city-people —
whoever tends the woman's sore
must receive pay in return.

"So it is said that a silk-island
shall lie late at night
beside me alone in the house,
if she would not die from this."

Thus it prevailed, the thorn-ground to the kind men:
"We have no concern about it —
I shall see to harsh tricks."

The bride bright had a stone-house on a broad field —
though she should dwell there all to old age —
hopeless it is that any escape.

She let herself be borne ill in a cart there —
the brother was to receive the bride;
the old tricks could not harm.

Around the house a hundred brave men watched —
they shall keep the sick swan,
forbid tricks and all deceits.

The brother went in through the rock, but the sick bride
thrust away grief, for he shall stroke
the bare flesh with soft healing.

The monk did not stroke the maiden's flesh too hard —
the bare horn blew away as smoke-snow;
decay-sickness ended thus.

The brother attended carefully to the gold-string eagerly —
his strength never lacked;
the gold-tree entertained day as night.

Now were out seven nights at some morning —
the brother opened the horn of tricks;
the bride's cheek is hoped to get its colour.

The men who had the house outside to guard
saw from the mountain a greedy host;
the evil ones would strike their hearts.

The house fled the men now and the ring-Eir —
yet more tricks will appear
to men quickly, and more wonders.

Clay and water raised itself high as the breakers' wave —
men saw there an ugly follower,
likeness more of man than wolf.

All the hands knotted on the rock-grip —
mismatched eyes highest in the forehead —
he was said to be urgently flailing.

Black tufts of hair over the neck swung,
also out over the shoulders flopped —
down over neck and cheekbones settled.

Most into the nostrils fell there
wondrously green dangling things —
one does not call those fine mustaches;
the ugly mouth nowhere smiles.

Crooked teeth gaped widely from the torn jaw —
the shoulders stand up to the cheeks —
all the way to earth the grips hang.

Shoulder-narrow and hip-less was the least of the shaft —
from the chin one may see clearly,
it had grown onto the breastbone.

The belly jutted out at the middle beyond all measure —
the thigh seems magic to trolls
in a decayed likeness of tattered clothing.

It split in the body under the jacket-buttons —
the stooped one went about the land,
crept in through the narrow house.

The linen-rag seemed to delay the healer long —
this may be reckoned well, weaver —
he raised some speech.

"I would now receive the help of Dínus the dwarf —
I never knew for the young prince
another time lying more on."

Neither delay nor dragging was in Dínus's coming —
the din grew in the empty house;
rather more frightened the proper woman.

The cowl stripped the prince when the flood soaked him —
his own brother Blávus recognized him there —
the ring-cord that Viktor denounced.

"Dear brother, grant me mercy," said the weeping beauty —
"Far from it," says the flinger of spears,
"you shall be forced to fare further.

Dínus, carry the bride home to my men —
there shall the woman find Viktor,
who gave first the stiff counsel.

Shamefully you dealt with the clear prince —
it would be fitting for you to receive
beside my thrall to lie worst.

Let the sweet one seem where myself is —
if she holds herself in obedience,
on honour there shall be no sway."

The woman said she was willing to consent to brother's counsel —
here shall no word be drawn from it;
all was that in good measure.

"Lady's-attendant shall you, my kinswoman, so fair, receive —
on his shoulders you might lie
kept rather than any woman.

Draw over me, Dínus companion, the noblewoman's look —
the maiden's figure as speech and wit;
education sprang up and glitter.

Then shall I rule the realm first and the fire of the Rhine —
fare you now to France home" —
I heard they parted thus with them.

Out of the house the hideous ugly one went —
the monk dead saw many —
a monster of might bore on the shoulders.

Rushing over the entire long sheds they went —
the guards waited for the better —
the journey improves but the toil lessens.

Dínus went with the queen home as a faithful servant
until he came to France's land;
it went according to the king's prayer.

Did not part with the woman before finding
Kodier, the fair man of glory —
told the truth to the woman, altogether.

"Blávus shall you be named now as the Níflúng commanded —
rule the realms and all the wealth" —
the woman was not reluctant about this.

They came to the fort and gave greetings, clever men —
Viktor greets his companion;
a wondrously good feast he magnifies.

The king's son heard and was gladdened by that —
that Blávus had fared no better,
nor got the powerful bride rather.

These cheeks rested together every night —
I found the end of my learning;
I leave thus this ríma.

Ríma XII

The Saracen king Soldán arrives seeking Fúlgíðá. The two women are carried off by the magic cloth. Viktor uses the cloth again to seize Rósíðá, Soldán's daughter. Blávus and Viktor make peace with Soldán. Triple weddings follow: Viktor marries Fúlgíðá, Blávus marries Soldán's daughter Rósíðá, and Kodier marries the Indian noblewoman. All three couples rule their realms in joy.

Mansöngr

The eastern path of the verse-sound
I let on the twelfth time —
that shall advance the ring-ground
if she will beg for Víðrir's meeting.

Well may the drink of the dwarf-step
rush from the word-tongs —
let the bed-post and herself
sweet, nothing spared to me.

To me has the hot vapour of love
the gold-ground kindled before —
I must seek to warm it
and wake the sweated dead world.

It would not seem rash to me
if so it could be —
though so it sweetens the gentle cup
the bride might enjoy herself.

The land is quick if praise awards one man
the fair linden of leek,
or even though sickness and sleeplessness
presses at night as may be.

Amor is called the heart's swift one —
neck and silk-Nönn —
but still the grimness-hunger sweated;
fortune gave that which before.

The scroll of learning fell there —
it went with the dear dwarf;
the bride's tree blazed then —
better custom than was seen.

Narrative

The shrewd, thought-harassed lord
in the house we spoke of —
afterward sits Blávus pleasantly;
the bride's face is on him fair.

The clay and glistening seemed as three —
the thorn-ground might now —
the guards find the gold-ground again;
wonders appear many at once.

Gone was care from the ring-ground
and whole in every way —
they led out the quiet noblewoman;
she played the lute in many a way.

Now are gone those brothers who
knew the best arts —
laden — but that is more —
the house dry and the clay sunken.

Soldán is called a strong king —
I say in Saracen realm —
the blue knife was set to tempt him;
he would seek a woman over a year.

One daughter of his own
Soldán the king had —
men name her Rósíðá;
right may the finest maiden be gotten.

He readied a fleet of ships quickly
away from his land —
with the seal of quietness and fine silk,
wound-tools and Fjölnir's gift.

Sail-deer's gust rejoices;
then went every one as could —
men's waves struck the prow —
best wind carries the king onward.

To the head-fort near the harbours
he found there what he wished —
no fairer one had he seen
than his dearest Fúlgíðá.

The ruler of peoples went on land
and folk swarmed from ships —
he thinks to redden the sharp brand
unless he gets the woman with a love-bond.

To the floor of the hall men went
against the woman's seat —
brought all news at once —
peace-lacking is the land still.

"If Hlökk's hut — the ring-tree wise —
will resist and do battle,
the lord may prove your maidenhood —
soft hand on the ruler's cheek."

The household eagerly gave oath
to Soldán's wise men —
said they would rather yield the sword
than give him the ring-spring.

"Warrior — queen, grant —
I see death on the people —
hope is none of being protected;
the woman would get him here likewise.

I would rather the ruler that
gets my gentle one
than the fire of wounds separate —
the innocent pays much then."

Grids bought but the cloth-Rist
sent the king message —
mercy and peace fly from the woman,
but the bold host grieves that last.

The people's ruler readied himself in place
to drink bridal wine with the bride —
the swan turned from it with spirit;
the prince made clear what was requested.

"All I would set aside sorrow and pain
if the king would give me that —
that drink in the power of wine to mine,
where the ruler held his daughter."

Lust satisfied Soldán still —
he could deny nothing —
the bride gladdened the fortress-people,
gentle and bade farewell to all at once.

The wind drives the wagon of the sea;
alert to the land of Saracens —
the ground is covered by the bright household;
then the ruler's noblewoman takes the harbours.

Quickly will give his hall
the lord-king to tent —
in the best way serve wine;
astonishingly gay was the fine maiden.

On clean cloth the king's maid walked
and the gold lit in the hall —
before the eye-stones the silk hung;
she was seen on one fair bench.

Nearest to Fúlgíðá
shall the prince's daughter sit —
in the highest seat the ruler beside,
the glittering household further out.

Though famous people were found in the household's joy,
the end-day of the organ-sound —
another surge came and stood.

Ladies went from the hall
of Hrúgnir's speech to evening —
players grasped strings' sound;
with arts sprang high over the wall.

"The fame-plague has fully ended,"
said the lady to the powerful swan —
"you have served me this day;
your own case shall be more loaned."

From the ornament the two noble women
stepped the hard tread —
went then and banned themselves being near;
then the worthy wages the maiden gets.

Split apart was the blue bundle
by the bride in a single thicket —
the gold covers but she goes then;
the ground sinks far away.

Rósíðá the clear, the counsel's blade —
cloth wide over land and pasture
wondrously smooth.

Therefore may be admitted the prince's stab —
the thorn's sorrow-linden —
in no way ate nor drank;
for the gold-ground gay, then burst.

Both the women, fair and red,
whom the prince missed from the hall —
I heard France's people rested;
they found cloth standing on earth.

The silk-fitting the true one reported
and went to the fort —
the bride changed her face and look,
and shrewd Blávus likewise.

The sick grief the champion strikes —
Kodier, love's wound —
in India-land is that maiden;
I expect my spirit to stand nearer.

His message men declared
to the wise rulers of the land —
as the woman sent Fúlgíðá
to seize the fair woman immediately.

"I trust this bride best
to consent to my embrace" —
with them the briskest mostly held;
the household's horses raced the sea.

Men came to France's town
with the wondrously fair woman —
the sound of horns was heard about the fort;
the righteous lord lightened his sorrow.

The fort seemed to shake —
cracks in every street —
there the land-host pressed;
fear lessens but they made peace.

Blávus wed his own sister
to the famous bond of swords —
Viktor tore the silk-Lín free
of sorrow and ripped under pain.

Then Blávus wed best
the bride that he sought —
the eager woman was fixed;
to foreign houses she went and settled.

He showed the people a nobler branch —
Geir's daughter wished
to heal Kodier's cold sickness;
the silk-clean one fights the disease.

Begins in that way the heated feast
with many great lords —
every man was then given
what was asked for in some house.

Wondrously fair carried Fúlgíðá
beauty above all women,
and the other two further out —
the noble maiden who glittered on.

Ring-Norns sat themselves
across from their lords —
old entertainment with scored horn;
shearing and horn as the best glass.

Men called for drink beyond enough —
most precious wine in bowls —
about bench and pall that praise spread,
that no such temple had been built.

Young men went with good heart to drink wine —
warriors gladden the hearts —
sick ones swapped the bitter pain;
brides thought well to themselves.

Musicians grasped with both hands
clean gold in air —
kings loaned out the sweet mead;
blessed ones served many of them.

The temple was adorned with piping's song —
then the proud ones went from their seats —
with honour's praise but the hung gallery;
loyalty's bond shall be held throng.

The bed-house found three sweet women
and beds gold-bedecked —
my material stands for glory;
now is known from the bad hair.

Lords sat with honour
in the hall so very long —
Ófnir's fittings gladdened the grounds;
bold men visited there, the bid.

A month the land's troop let
the praiseworthy temple stand —
sweet ones wept when the sleeping ended;
swore and promised loyalty oaths.

Saracen-land Blávus bore
and the gentle Soldán's daughter —
the joy-bond never waned;
the fortune-wound was little.

His companion and Fúlgíðá
ruled France long —
to India-land they went the third time,
though I would get an answer from men.

Which is better told to men —
bid them silence or grant,
all winter out so hard,
or teach them the better of much?

I have seen that honour lies bare —
that will take little —
now the voice shall fade in me;
the thin ríma falls here.

Colophon

Blávusrímur ok Viktórs is a cycle of twelve rímur on the adventures of Viktor, son of King Vilhjálmr Rauðr of France, and his sworn brother Blávus. The two princes meet in a forest clearing, fight to exhaustion, and swear eternal brotherhood on a blue magic cloth that flies to Blávus's kingdom. Together they defeat the poison-brothers Falr and Sóti, then journey to battle the brothers Randver and Önundr of Kallda-Svíþjóð — aided by Kodier the navigator, the farmer Skeggkarl, and Dínus the dwarf. After the brothers fall, the story turns to Viktor's obsessive pursuit of Fúlgíðá, the imperious queen of India, through three failed courtships, a monk's disguise, and a final flight on the magic cloth. The cycle concludes with triple weddings: Viktor and Fúlgíðá, Blávus and Soldán's daughter Rósíðá, and Kodier and an Indian noblewoman.

The cycle survives in three manuscripts: AM 604c, 4° (Rímur I–VIII, the core text, designated A); a fragment in AM 603, 4° (Ríma I only, designated B); and the Accessoria manuscript (all twelve rímur, designated C). Scholarly tradition treats Rímur IX–XII as later additions, distinguished by their different meter and diction. The poem closely follows its saga source, Blávussaga ok Viktórs, though the manuscripts indicate the rímur follow an older version of the saga than the one that survives. The edition follows Jón Þorkelsson's Rímnasafn (Copenhagen, 1905–1922), Vol. 2, pp. 617–700.

All twelve rímur translated by Rímur Tulkus of the New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026.

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Source Text

Ríma I

Girndar modrin grefur upp strid
ok gengr um minnis ladir,
suefni bregdr silke hlid,
seint fær ec af þui nadir.

Recken tecr at reyna fast
rot um yndis hollu,
leikr i stridi lioda past
lauks firi huita þellu.

þo skal ec uænne fallda Frigg
Fundings ueigar bioda,
heims mvnu stolpa strauma uigg
striuka af ranne lioda.

Rikr atti Fracka ferd
fylkir einn at rada,
Uilhialm Raud at romu sverd
ok reiddi skialldar uoda.

Feingit hafdi fliodit huitt
fleygir biartra spiota,
ol uid sætu sueinbarn fritt,
sa mun skiolldu briota.

Virdar skyldu uises kund
Wicktor aller nefna;
sa uar snemma snarpr i lund
ok sneru þing at stefna.

Iþrotter nam fylkir fa
fram yfir alla lyde,
matte ecki tunga tia
tiggia list ok pryde.

Hilmir feck so hætta sott,
er hans nam life styrra,
Viktor kalar uiser fliott
ok uitra drottning dyrra.

þeingil talar vid þrifligt sprvnd,
þat uil ec ytum skyra:
„þinn mun arfe, þorna grvnd,
þessu rike styra.

Get ec hann þike drottum diarfr
daur vid skiolldu at briota,
misiafnt nockut þegnum þarfr,
þo mvn standa hliota.

Sa mun fyrdum Fracka haudr
franvm brande ueria,
dreingium uekia dara laudr,
driugum giarnn at heria."

Dogling skilz uid dyrligt lif,
dros nam sart at grata,
itra uilldi odlings uif
ut ferd uerda lata.

Virdar beiddu Wiktor nu
uelde ok drott at styrra,
odling setr ok audar bru
erfi ueizlu dyrra.

Sa uar gramr uid garpa aur
af greipar huitu suelli,
Fiolnes skryda ok franum daur,
frænings raudvm uelli.

Eptir var eingi af brendum baug,
bragnings nidrenn þydi
fleygdi af hende Fofnis laug
uid fræknna sina lyde.

Virdum þotte ueizlann su
med uirt ok prydi standa,
huer bar noga hraun þueings bru
heim til sinna landa.

Geck firi tigenn tiggia fru
ok taladi sprvnd af pinu:
„giorlla er eytt, kvad audar bru,
ollu gulle þinu.

Vil ec ei slikar ueizlr opt
verda lata fleire,
þeim ma heidre hallda a lopt
sem hefr a stilling meire."

Hilmir svaradi hringa brv,
hann uill rada at sinne;
Viktor stofnar ueizlu nv
ok uar su ongu minne.

Dogling veitti Draupnes mioll
ok dyrum hringum sadi,
fyrdar henttu frænings voll
med fogrv hauka lade.

Kurteis selr hann kongsens bu,
kastala hvern ok borgir;
þetta spyr enn frida frv,
feck hun af þui sorgir.

Virdar buazt þegar ueizlan þraut
uænir heim at hallda,
drottning talar vid diarfan Gaut
dyra Fiolnes tiallda.

„Mann uit er þier millding led
minna enn kongum hente,
fadir þinn adr Frauckum red
ok fagra hringa spentte.

Stillir hadi stridit huast
uid stælta runna branda,
feck hann gull med fleina kast
ok flutti heim til landa.

Audenn hefr þu allan spentt
upp med litllum dadum,
sæfuar bal ok silfrit brentt,
suiptur visku radum."

Vicktor ansar uænne frv,
uirdar leggi i minne:
„ec skal ryma rikit nu
ok riða i burtt at sinne.

þat skal fregna þioden snioll,
þori ec at rioda geira,
ec skal afla audar þoll
anars halfu meira.

Ek fysuzt ecki a Fracka haudr
fyre aptr ad venda,
helldr en gengr at garpe audr
ok gnottir gullsens brenda.

Einn skal ræsir reckum fra
rida sinum hesti,
mic skal ecki modir sia
a margra uetra fresti."

Solla uod er silfri þockt
er siklings bukenn uardi,
i eggivm syndiz eitrid klaukt
odlings brandrenn hardi.

Logadi allr linna ferd
lofdungs hialmrinn fridi,
Rognnis brik med ramliga gerd
ok reynd uid hordu stridi.

Sodull ok beisl vid siklings hest
sett uar Ægis lioma;
skiolldung biozt med skartit mest,
skein a kongsens bloma.

Modr kuadde millding gladr
ok męta þegna lyde,
stydz uid huergi stolltar madr
ok stockr i sodul med pryde.

þat mun morgum inagnna strid
ok mætri hringa þollu,
kongsson reid a kuelldi sid
katr af sinne hollu.

Millding ridr a mork i brautt,
mvn þat fregnaz uida,
rikium styrde reflla lavt
ok recka sueiten frida.

Wicktor þeyser pofa hiortt
þraungua uegu ok langa,
mędiz fakr enn mork er suortt,
mun þui seinna ganga.

Ratade fram i riodrit eitt
reyfir biartra hringa,
so var af mædi marnum heitt
sem mvnde hann nesta springa.

Vicktor stigr af uænum hest
ok uill þar huilazt lata,
höfgenn rann a hilmer mest,
hafa uill edlit mata.

Sikling bregdr suefni bratt,
solin skein so vida,
kongsson litr klædit blatt
klokt um loptit lida.

Vndrazt þetta odda uidr
aurr at uekia hillde,
leid þar skiott at lade nidr
sem lofdung stod enn gilldi.

Kappenn styrdi klędis ferd
kæn med skillde huitum,
garpr er þesse gyrdr med suerd
ok glæstum pryddr ritum.

þesse vikr at Viktor nv,
uænstann kuedr hann stille:
„heidrinn bid ec at hreppir þu,
huerskyns semd ok snille.

Ek uil list ok leika megt
lofdung med þic hallda,
brogden klok ok boka slekt
briotr grænra skiallda.

Vetra eru uit taldra tueir
tolf a iofnum alldri,
berum at hillde biartann geir,
bila þo eigi uid hialldri."

Giorlla fra ec at Viktor ueit
uilia þeingils mæta,
ramliga suellr reiden heit
reyne Fiolnes stræta.

Tiggiar þreyttu tveir vm stund
i turnnement at rida,
frægden morg ok frekligt sund
fraleik andra ok skida.

A iþrotternar iofrar tueirr
iafnir badir woru,
frægir tokuz fyrdar þeir,
er fleina hringa skarv.

Geingu saman i gridar þey
ok giora so romu at heyia,
þat ma spyria spiallda ey
at spardi huorki deyia.

Bragnar kliufa bryniur ott,
bertt er holld a þegnum,
hlifena renndi hioren fliott
hveria senn i gegnum.

Wiktor frettir uænan þegnn
uopnum þessum styrra:
„audling greinn, þui ec eptir fregnn,
ætt ok nafnn þitt dyra."

„Driugum uar mitt briostit byst,
Blaws er eg at heite,
ættenn min skal eigi fyrst
intt fyrir saxa veite.

Sættunz fyst ok setium grid
ok segivm ockr nadir,
fremium eida fasta uid
ok fylgiunzt sidan badir."

„Vilier þu eigi seggrenn segia ætt
þa suellr unden rauda,
bennia laukr binde sætt
ok birte odrum dauda."

Lagadi blod ur benium heitt,
brystu Hilldar klædi,
þegnar fa svo brande beitt
at badir falla af mæde.

Blavus segir at brædra trv
buen se hann at halda:
„fædizt eingen fremri en þu,
fleygiir grænra skiallda."

Viktor annsar uænum þegn:
„uil ec pui alldri neita,
faulna ec mest uid fleina regnn
ok falenn i unda sveita."

Blavus segiz af mæde mest
mega sic huergi hræra
„utan þu dugir af dygdum best
doglingssonr at næra."

Þrætan ogx af þessu laung,
þegnar mættir senna,
uill þa hvor i suerda saung
sigren odrum kenna.

Seggir uoktu sara laudr,
saman kann blodit heita,
huorgi telzt i huganum blaudr,
höldum trygdir neita.

Blauus uikr at Victor nu:
„uit munum stiga a klædi,"
þat uar sett med Suolnes brv
ok samin a allzskyns frede.

Wictor sier a hægre hond
er hulit med uerki pena,
budlung les þau braugden vond,
i burtt nam klædi at renna.

Lidr upp i loptit hatt
listugt þetta klęde.
Hier mun ec enda þenna þatt,
þrotenn eru gioruoll kuæde.

Ríma II

VEIZLU byd ec uænne dros
ueigar Hars ad lita,
hun munn drecka af hornna Ros,
hlackar vinnit huita.

Fiollum hærra flygr nv
fagrt i lopte klædi,
segger bundu sina trv
saman ok giorvallt ædi.

Fyrdar lita fronit eitt,
fagra uollv ok græna,
lagu i milli um landit breitt,
liosa borg ok uæna.

Haull uar prydd med hagleiks mur
ok huitum marmara steine,
su uar dreginn med Draupnes skur
ok dyra filabeine.

Skamt fra haullu lydrenn leit
liosa uollu ok sletta,
klędit fliugr at foldar reit,
fyrdar lita þetta.

þangad skundar þiodenn snioll
er þeir sia klædit renna,
Blavus ferden fagnar aull
en fæstir Viktor kenna.

Viktor þotti uænkazt ny
er uises leit hann soma,
haudrit mætt ok hrvmpueings brv,
hverskyns tignn ok bloma.

Nu er þat birtt at Blavus uar
budlung metr i uelldi,
rike styrdi ok reckum þar
ok raudum flædar elde.

Kongrinn sialfr kuadde hliods
kappa sina dyra:
„ec uil segia orua riods
ætt ok nafnit skyra.

Millding rikte frægr i Frans,
fra ec hann Vilhialm heita,
hier mega ytar arfa hans
allar sæmdir ueita.

Vid hofum bundit brædra trv
ok ber þar ecki a mille,
land ok þiod sem linna brv
legg ec halft vid stille."

Fyrdar geyma fronit sitt,
fogr er þeira pryde,
heriar eingi a haudrit fritt
halur med sterka lydi.

Sa kom dagr at dreingir sia
drafnar fila renna,
fiold ma eingi a flaustrvm tia,
flotann mun Blavus kenna.

Skiott hafa lydir landi nad,
leggia segll uid reida,
kolgan uar sem kolum se sad
af knara fiold ok skeida.

Vicktor bidr enn uæna ludr
uitt um landit þeyta:
„her er fiold med hialmi prudr,
hier þarf strids at neyta."

Blavus segir eigi þurfa þess
at þeyta hornit frida:
„frid mun bioda fleina vers,
en fyrdum ecki strida.

Samarion er sattar gian,
sa ma kaupman heita,
kued eg hann huorki konv ne barn
kunna strid at ueita.

Orpit hefr hann æsku i braut,
enn elli tekr at kenna,
ueizlv biodum vella Gaut,
uel skulum hondla þenna."

Vicktor bilar ei beint vid þat
at bua til ueizlv dyra,
þriatigi manna þegar i stad
skal þrifnum flocki styra.

Erindin baru einkar fliott,
en Ion kuedz ueizlv uitia:
„hier skal eiga yta drott
oll vm kyrt at sitia.

Fimm skulu hundrvt fylgia mier
fridra hringa meida,
annar lydr skal eptir hier
allr ok geyma skeida."

Bragnar koma til borgar heim,
Blavus þetta skyra:
„uiser kemr med uænan seim
ueizlu at þiggia dyra."

Ion nam pryda itra menn
Agnars huitum skrvda,
biarta hafa þeir bauduars tenn
bædi ok hialma prvda.

þegar þeir stiga straundu fra
stundi ludren huelle,
na þa bragnar breida at sia
borg a slettum velli.

Blavus vikr brognum mot,
blidr ok sniallr i male,
Viktor fylgir vella niot
vardr hördv stali.

Heilsa þeir a herlid fritt,
hvorer odrum fagnna,
streingia hliod um strætid vitt
nam stundu sidar þagnna.

Wirdar ganga i væna holl
veralldar pryddir soma,
su uar fad med fingra mioll
ok fogrum ægis lioma.

Gluggar lystu a glæstum sal,
gloadi naudrv stræti,
skemtiligt var skatnna tal,
skipuduz menn i sæti.

Blavus talar uid blidan þegnn,
en brosti Ion a moti:
„ellen tekk at minka me megn
fyri morgum hringa briote.

Henttar betr at hallda land,
þa hnigr madr i elli,
helldr en rioda en huassa brand
hvarma tuns i felli."

Suaradi Ion med sæmd ok traust
sueigir grænra skiallda:
„hvergi se ec þat landit laust
er lystir oss at hallda.

Fyrdar geyma fronnit hvert
ok fridra eignna sinna,
en mer leikr um lyndit þvert
land med raungu at vinna."

Blavus segir þat Viktors uilld
at veita honum med prydi
kongliga mekt med kæne snilld,
kurteist velldi ok lydi.

„Affrikka þigg hid frida fron
fagrt at ockr badvm;"
þessa giof nam þacka Ion
þegnum tueim med dadvm.

„Þar uil ec yckr midla i mot
minvm skeidum avllum.
Fiolnes skrvda ok frænings griot
ok fyrdvm morgum sniollum.

Sa er einn madr i minne ferd,
myn ec hann yckr veita,
sa kann rioda ramlig sverd
i raudum vnda sveita.

Kodier iafnan kappit uanzt,
kæn til snilldar dada,
megi þit ecki missa hans
til margra specktar rada.

Veit hann gioruoll vedra foll
ok vana til allra strauma,
reckum gefr hann raden snioll
ok rædr alluel drauma.

Stiorn hefr hann fyri sterkri drott
at styra hlvnna hestvm,
drivgum veit hann daga sem nott
divp a havfnum flestum.

Wm land ok eyiar, logu ok svnd
leidir kann hann telia,
ma þui sizt fyri siouar hund
sigling nockut duelia."

þegnen geck i þeira flock,
þat fra ec auka vanda,
þeir mynu biartann bryniv rock
bera med snorpvm randa.

Ion tok fron ok fagra höll
ok fylkis tignn i lande,
en brædr hielldu a brimla uoll
bræddum sueckiu brandi.

Skiliaz þeir vid skatnna ok haudr,
skeidr braunna ur haufnum,
bran þar lægis biarmenn raudr
barv uals a staufnum.

Ramliga tocu þeir randa orm
at Reyna af aullu megni,
huessa nade Hilldar storm
i hordu geira regni.

Berserk huern við brodda hliod
bragnar letv hniga,
troda uard aull en tryllda þiod
trausta heliar stiga.

Fordaz hver þat fretta ma
fleina drifv snarpa,
fysti aunguan firda þa
at finna þessa garpa.

Wndan setti yta kind,
engi þordi at bida.
Has mun uerda horna lind
hals af munne lida.

Ríma III

GIANNA villda ec gledia frv
ok gammna hvitvm suana,
lyse þiod med liodum nv
listir fornra mana.

Viktor frette uæna þiod,
er Uandels hestum rida:
„huar mvnn geta þan geira riod
at giore vid oss at strida?"

þegnar suorvdv þessv bratt:
„þan mun huergi fina,
at ser ætlle aurfa þatt
yckur mote vinna."

Kodier hlo af kappe þa,
kvad sic marga ginna:
„huad mun eitt so agætt fa
at eigi megi þuilikt finna.

Heimur er uidr en halr er margr
hardr af likams megne,
bilar eigi Sóti sem brediz uargr
brodda hals at regni."

„Wil ec þan hitta, at Viktor kuad,
uegr er synn at fella,
þess skal lyddan leita i stad
edr liggia daudr ella."

„Til laung uar nv tvngan min,
tok ec slikt at ræda,
leingi stödvazt lunden þin
liknar mal at græda."

„Faer þu eigi so fræken man,
fremd se vidr at strida,
þig skal færa a fakenn þan
sem fæztir uilia rida."

„Þat mun skaumm at skręfazt leingr,
skal ec eigi slikv leyna,
þier mun fazt svo þreckstor dreingr
at þori þin vopn at reyna.

Falr ok Sote fremia strid
ok fysazt alldri at rena,
þeir mynv auka aurva hrid
ok ernner buka spenna.

Feingit hafa þeir flædar bal
ok fellda rauskua dreingi,
brædr deyfa hinv biortu stal
ok bita iarnen eingi.

Orma hafa þeir edli vm stund
ok eru so fullir klæka,
hrauckuaz nidr i harda grvnd,
hættligt eiturit sækia.

Ægir uellr af eitri i sundr,
allar skeidr brenna,
þola ma einginn þessi undr
bo er eigi kostr at renna.

Fordazt eingi af eitri pin
ok eydir lifi seggia,
hvar er þá Viktor virding þin
ok uolsit yckart beggia."

Vicktor segizt ei hrædaz hot
þo hættligt eitrit grande,
Fal skal ec ganga fyrst a mot
ok fremia strid med brandi.

Blavus suaraði bystr ok reidr,
buen kuedz hann vid Sota:
„þott hann eitri ægi ok skeidr,
ec mvn giptu hliota.

Kodier mvn þier kunnig leid
kynnge menn at finna,
þa skal reyna randa seid
ok rioda brandinn stinna."

Mæfels hestr af magnni stravk
vm mialldrs fronit frida,
sextan dagana siglu havk
suinnir garpar rida.

Ytar lita eina ey
vp vr hafenv skiota,
þar munv reckar i þundar þey
þegna skiolldu briota.

Flavt um streingi flædar hestr
furdu margr æ ægi,
þo var einn af aullum mestr
olldv ior a lægi.

þar uar lids a landi martt
ok leck um græna uollu,
folk uar þetta furdu suart
ok firnna stortt med ollu.

Kodier sagdi kaupvm þa:
„kostr er skiolldu at lyia,
hier ma Fal ok Sota sia,
sialdan romu flyia."

þegnar lita þesse troll,
þat bra morgvm kæti,
bita þeir so Bolverks voll
brakar i Fiolnis stræti.

„Kappar velie um kosti tvo,"
Kodier tok til orda:
„hier mvn ec skiliaz skotnnum fra,
þui skyllt er lifi at forda."

Blavus sor vid sina trv,
ok svo þeir Viktor badir:
„synia ec eigi at siair þu nv
syntt firi ockrv rade."

„Þa skulu garpar ganga a land,
giora so rad at eflla,
hier mun þurfa bitran brand
at briota Fiolnes refla."

Kodier þrifur ur kistu þa
klædis litenn packa,
skrydizt hier vid hialmen bla
ok hvita Grimmnis stacka.

þar uar samit med silkit grænt
ok sæmdum unnit klędi,
skorit vid innan skinnit vænt
ok skrifut a alskyns frędi.

Asalabia het agætt dyr,
af uar skinnit þetta,
drecken sa eingen eitre spyrr
at orki a nockut uætta.

Hylia matti höfudit allt,
hendr ok fætr a manne,
sett uar gler firi sionir kalt,
samit af orma ranne.

„Saxit þa ec af Sudra dverg,
hann sagdi flest allt bita,
herttr er nadr i navdrv merg,
nv er hann græn at lita.

Wiktor tak nv uodir þær,
er ueriazt eitri kauldu,
Fal mun þurfa at færaz nær
er fagra klyfr skiolldu.

Ef hnigr Falr at folldu davdr,
fregnazt mvn þat vida,
þa skal Sote sæmdar travdr
saman ok Blavus strida.

þa skal skyrtan skioldungs buk
skyla holdi ok lifi,
styri hann uid stala fiuk
stæltum unda knife.

Huad mun bate at bida leingr
brodda þing at hallda,
audnan rædr ef allvel gengr
ungum fleygir skiallda."

Stigu þeir fram at stole þeim
er sterklig flogdin satv,
þeir munv bioda branda seim
ok bræda hrafnni atu.

Kongs er eingen kuedian flutt
koppum þeim til handa,
Viktor talade vid þa stutt,
uanr at rioda branda.

„Vit hofum bædi um logu ok land
leitad yckr at finna,
nu skal skyfa skialldar rand
med skygdum benia linna.

Wær skulum fiorir fleina dogg
fremia langar stvndir,
rioda suerd ok reyna hogg,
so reckum blædi undir."

Sote fretti seggi nv:
„segi þit yckart heite
adr enn skyfvm skilfings brv
med skygdum hialma hneite."

„Wicktor kann med Vidris glod
væna hialma at snida,
Blavus æsir brodda hliod
buen er þegnn at strida."

Brosti Falr uid beiska lvnd
ok beit i skiolden ravda:
„Þit hafit feingit feigdar stvnd
ok felmtrad yckr i dauda.

Wid munum skipta skeidvm þa
ok skotnum ollum rada,
ogrligr er avdren sa
eptir yckr bada."

Blavus svaradi blidr ok hlær,
bvenn er strid at halda:
„þid siait ei hvor sigrinn fær
seggur ur ieli skialda."

Virdar gengv fyrdvm fra,
fram mvn dagrinn lida.
Fiolnes lęt ec fręda skra
fyrst at sinne bida.

Ríma IV

IV.

1. Reglv kan ec retta sidz at reisa i frædi,
   þui er mier uggr a arnar mædi,
   ecki verdr hun sett i kuæde .
2. Fliott mynu garpar geysa strid a grænum
   blodit trv ec ur benium helli,
   bragnna ma þat fira elli .
   velli,
3. Wiktor skryddiz uænum hialmm ok Vidris
   hans uar brynia af hordu stali,
   hulenn ok sett med iotnna mali .
   bale,
4. Hreytir æ þa Hrugnis þiliu hrvmþveings landa,
   atimas stod i sterkum randa .
   steinn so hardr at fatt ma granda .
5. Hulen uar allr Hilldar skrvda hringa meidr,
   Wiktor stod a uelli reidr,
   vekiazt mvn þui aurua seidr .
6. Falr er komin a fagran uoll ok fus at strida,
   sa þarf ecki kyngi kuida,
   kongsson mvn þui vandan bida.
7. Hann beit i raund ok beliar hatt med
   „at visv trv ec at Wiktor falle,
   uæri nær at stalit gialle."
   bysna kalle :
8. Hardan taca þeir Hilldar sueip med hrotta
   hrædilig var hiorfa drifa,
   huorgi vill þar audrum hlifa .
   at rifa,
9. Stod so leingi laufa fundr lyda i mile,
   kongsson berzt af kappe ok snilli,
   kenna mun þess Falr en ille .
10. Fleygdi hann yfir sig Fofnis ham med
    eiturit rauk af firna flagdi,
    fór þvi likt sem Kodier sagde .
    feiknna bragdi ,
11. Dellings voden drafnar aull af dara þvnde,
    ed brvna eitr um budlung dundi,
    biarg þa klædit hringa lundi.
12. Doggling ueitti dreckanum slag, sem
    virdum fus at vekia dreyrra,
    verdr Falr at missa eyra .
    dreingir heyrra,
13. Vanga fyllu flettir burtt af flagdi alla ,
    þeyi giorir æ þor at kalla,
    þrifaz bidr eigi Asa alla.
14. Fofnir huarf en Falr er seinn at fleina hreggi,
    halren stod med halfu skeggi,
    hrvndi blod um ristr ok leggi .
15. Fer hann þegar i fornu golf ok fitons anda,
    dyra gram sa doggling standa,
    dreing er kostr at neyta handa.
16. Lionit uilldi lofdungs arfann lemia ok bita,
    ædir framan at eydir rita
    ok ætllar hold med klom at slita .
17. Wiktor hefr sic uakran þa med vigren
    hiorrenn snidr hrammenn suarta,
    halfr fylgdi tavgrinn karta .
    biarta,
18. Halanym uill hid digra dyr til dogglings
    þat fær ytum æfi enda,
    eydir leit þat gvllsens brenda .
    venda,
19. Stillir fra ec at stockr i lopt med stalit
    halen kom ei uid hristi fleina,
    hrynia let hann iord ok steina .
    hreina,
20. Badum hondum budlung reiddi bryniu spilli,
    Fallr er komin i feigdar stilli,
    faren er bæde kyngi ok snilli.
21. Saxit skipti Sudra nautr sundr flagdi,
    þanen strid med þegnum lagdi,
    þrvtnar Sote helldr at bragdi .
22. Viktor stigr a uoll i burtt ok varpar mædi,
    i samri stund tok Blavus będi
    benia glod ok dyrligt klędi .
23. Glæsta tecur hann Giuka vod med gvlli
    fyr gat engi skatnna skeinu,
    skryddr henne af vopnni neinv.
    hreinv,
24. Logadi uida lægis bal a lofdungs hialme,
    gres fyri hverivm grænvm malme
    geyse travstr i Hilldar salmme .
25. Blarr at lit uar budlungs skiolldr ok buen
    hvergi gafzt fyri hræfa teine
    hordu settr fila beine .
    med steinne,
26. Will þa eigi laufa lvndr leingi bida,
    Sote tok þa serkinn frida,
    er Solle let med stali smida .
27. Fleygdi hann yfir sig Fofnis sueip med
    þa mega bragnar benia sildi
    bera i strid med snarpri hilde .
    fogrum skilldi,
28. Reckar huessa Raugnnis vedr ok rignnir
    þa var reik a ryggiar stodi,
    randa foss um uollu flodi.
    blodi,
29. þegar i fystu skioldum skipte skiominn huitr,
    hræfa laukr bryniu bitr
    bædi sen ok hialmen slitr .
30. Biladi hialmr enn brotnar hlif enn
    eingi sa huor sigrazt mundi,
    Sote vard at olmmum hvndi.
    brynian hrvndi,
31. Grimliga færdi hann gilldar klær sem
    framan i briost a fleina niote,
    fiolkunniggr er orden Sote.
    goddum skiote
32. Suo uar garpren grimdar odr ok geysi
    Krynia nadi Hilldar serkr,
    hilldings uilldi hann slita kuerkr .
    sterkur,
33. Hlioda setti hilmis þiod ok holda alla,
    þa var Blavus bvenn at falla,
    bysnenn mega þat ytar kalla .
34. Framan i briostit biorttu saxi Blavus lagdi,
    oddrin skarzt at skomu bragdi
    skiott um herdar vt a flagdi .
35. Budlung red med benia oddi buk at snida,
    dugir þat flest at dvergar smida ;
    dreyrgar undir iafnan suida.
36. Nu hafa fyrdar feingit sigr med frægd ok
    berra þeir happ i hondum badum
    harlla gnott af linna sadum.
    dadvm,
37. Þa er at velia vm vænar skeidr ok uaska
    þeim a hond geck þegnna menge,
    þar skal ecki dveliazt leingi .
    dreinge,
38. Virdar letv verpa haug a vidre grvndv,
    ytar saman med aflli hrvndv
    eika fiolda a samri stvndv.
39. Skipta lidi ok skatuna fiold sem skygdum
    færdu nidr hia dockum draugi
    Dofra mal i myrkum havgi .
    baugi,
40. Virdar leystu landi fra lægis hesta,
    alldri ma þeim auden bresta,
    eptir mun þo uonen mesta.
41. Samen med iodrum seglenn voru sett
    þa uar gnyr a glamma hollv,
    gnaudar hregg umm sildar uollu .
    med ollu,
42. Skeidum hrindr skæfir laufs a skelivngs tune ,
    ytar helldu ægis dune,
    olldu snidr stafnen bune .
43. Austr i heim nam ægis dyr med yta renna,
    laungum þotte lægir brenna,
    lægdi um sidir storminn þenna.
44. Kappar fretta Kodier þa med keskiv male :
    „fa þann reck med fogrv stali,
    at franu skipte Yggiarr bale. "
45. „Þid megit skyfa skialdar rond at
    Kodier adr en seggium sagdi
    settizt nidr ok leingi þagdi .
    skavmmu bragdi, "
46. „Fleina rydr i recka blodi Randuer sterki,
    þess fær lydrenn þunglig merki,
    þykva klyfr hann Froda serki .
47. Annar heitir Avnvndr grickr eyder rita,
    brædur kunna brandi at slita,
    bryniv hring ok hialminn huita.
48. Med stale ueria stoltir brædr stillis haudr,
    Kallda Suipiod kongrenn rædr,
    koppum veitir ægis ględr.
49. Fegrd ok afll med fremd ok list nam
    þeingel gaf þeim þusund lyda,
    þeir skulv aller brædrum hlyda .
    fyrda pryda,
50. Randver a þan bryniv billd er Brynþuare
    reckrenn honum i romu beitir,
    ryrar uinnr hann fyrda sveitir.
    heitir.
    51 , Aunundr kiore sier kesiv þa er kynni at bita,
    bragna holld ok bryniu huita,
    bilar hann ecki i rogi rita.
51. Huernn dag mega þeir virda tuo firi uopn
    giorer þeim aunguum daudan duelia,
    dreing er sig uill þangat selia.
    sin uelia,
52. Stali ueria stolltar brædr stillis havdr,
    þegar er holda hverr sem daudr,
    er hyggr at uekia benia lavdr.
53. Ma þa eingi i malma drify madrinn uinna,
    ef þit beidizt brædr at finna,
    bratt mvn yckrum ofsa linna."
54. Viktor segir at þat skal þegar med
    „dreg ec eigi fyri enn dyra glofa
    dogglingsson a miukan lofa .
    þegnum profa :
55. Reyna hogg i randa dogg vid Randver sterka,
    hardan hialm ok hringa serka,
    hier mvn buit til snilldar verka ."
56. Blavus sor vid benia ormm ok bryniv huita :
    „ec skal lata eggiar bita
    Aunvndar holld i rogi rita ."
57. Hier mun þriota þvndar uin i þrætv lande,
    hrynie logr af Herians blandi,
    hier mvn best at þanenn stande .

Colophon

Blávusrímur ok Viktórs is a twelve-ríma cycle on the sworn brotherhood of Viktor of France and his companion Blávus. The cycle belongs to the tradition of translated romance rímur — cycles retelling chivalric narratives from continental sources. Its twelve rímur range from the sworn meeting in the forest to a battle with the brothers Randver and Önundr of Svíþjóð; scholars regard rímur IX–XII as later additions. The cycle survives primarily in AM 604c, 4° with variant witnesses in AM 603 and the Accessoria manuscript.

Good Works Translation from Old Icelandic by the New Tianmu Anglican Church with the assistance of Claude (Anthropic), 2026. Translated from the Rímnasafn Vol. 2 edition. The Old Icelandic source text in its original orthography follows below.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

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Source Colophon

Source text from Jón Þorkelsson, ed., Rímnasafn: Samling af de ældste islandske rimer (Copenhagen: Hið íslenska bókmenntafélag, 1905–1922), Vol. 2, pp. 617–700 (all twelve rímur). Primary manuscript for Rímur I–VIII: AM 604c, 4° (A). Variant readings from AM 603, 4° (B, Ríma I only) and the Accessoria manuscript (C, all twelve rímur) noted in the edition. Rímur IX–XII preserved in C only and regarded as later additions by the scholarly tradition. OCR source file: Rímnasafn Vol. 2, prepared for the New Tianmu Anglican Church archive.

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