Eleven rímur retelling Hjálmþérs saga ok Ölvis — the adventures of the foster-brothers Hjálmþér and Ölvir, sons of King Ingi of Denmark. When their mother dies and their father remarries a sorceress from a lonely island, the new queen's malice sets in motion a chain of enchantment, exile, and heroic endurance. Composed in the fifteenth century and preserved in AM 604 c, these rímur follow an older and more coherent version of the saga than the prose text that survives. First English translation.
Mansöngr Prelude
Stanzas 1–35 belong to a different cycle and were attached to Hjálmþérsrímur in the manuscript tradition. Finnur Jónsson retained them to preserve the manuscript record. They form a conventional love-complaint citing famous lovers from saga and romance.
I push Fjalar's ferry forth
from the sounds of learning —
now I wish to entertain bright women.
In the earth there stands the fairest woman
with grace and honour;
she lives always with art and bloom.
This maiden has a beauty
beyond young men's knowing —
she stands in the roots of our heart.
This beautiful gold-ground,
she makes us bow;
to Earth I give the Dragon's wealth.
Always the High One's hawks play
in our mind's temple —
they are bound with gentle grief.
Shall I then never win
that bright treasure-linden?
For this I bear a harsh sorrow.
My breast is pierced with anguish
for the ring-linden;
she is dear to us in Huld's winds.
Before, many were burned by anguish
and bitter strife;
those fates, I hear, will never pass.
Artus was pierced for Elida
with grievous sorrow —
he bore grief in the mind's bosom.
Solli wrought terrible horror
for his sweet one's burning —
the heart split into two halves.
Tristram died for the dear linden
of Draupnir's sweat;
Ísödd's body was given to death.
Högni raised the corpse-palm
for the battle-woman;
Heðinn took strife to win Hildr.
Philomela became a bird,
that beautiful woman —
she sang always with rigid sorrow.
Hringr and Tryggvi fought fiercely
for her sake;
both wished to court the bride.
Ívvent bore abundant longing
for the treasure-linden;
his mind walked in joy's wind.
Alexander took Elín
and loved the woman —
for that, many lost their lives.
Absalon got the highest grief
for the beautiful one;
he bore longing in the mind's strife.
David got from women a desire
of delights;
the lord loved fine women.
These were found the most famous men
in former ages;
warriors gladdened by red gold.
They clove steel and strong shields
with war's light;
they won most with fame and honour.
No prince's strength bore it,
nor the brave one's breast,
that sorrow could not conquer all.
Therefore love has great power
through the might of grief,
that such men were made to bow.
Therefore none may wonder
though I bear trouble,
when none has the strength to stand against it.
Since first I saw the lady
with joy's branches,
I was seized by cruelty's pains.
This leek-pine seemed to me
so artful a woman —
for that, my purpose went astray.
The hair on the ring-pine
is like the trail of waves,
or like a glowing serpent-ember.
The brow-land shines so brightly,
like rays streaming —
nature itself set that countenance.
Every limb on the ring-Gná,
and the bright skin —
no other way can anyone judge.
Though I see the body nowhere near
the fine woman,
still my mind is on her life.
Venus's might wins oath:
among all the world's women,
a nobler one cannot be found.
Therefore it is as though footless I travel
through frost and surf;
pleasure I have at no time.
That is altogether greater hurt
with the stubborn mood,
and yet no one can discover it.
I care for neither joy nor mirth
through grim strife;
the anguish, I say, will never pass.
All the days, early and late,
there is in our heart
the silk-bed's bright ground.
Now I will push all Bölverk's beer aside —
the gem-ash I will not bind.
Ríma I
Mansöngr
There shall Frosti's fair ship
sail forth again,
carrying men upon the word-road
to speak of heroes.
I have so bound the sword-realm's
horn-horse;
I do not name the serpent-ground's
Nauma there.
The good linden gave me strife
in the sea's bay;
I bore grief for the rich hair-sun
in my mind's wind.
The leek-Gefn struck me with sorrows
in the mind's hall;
therefore my precious sleep is slain
by the cloth-pine.
The bitter longing never flees
from my breast;
no wellspring will be
fairer to see.
Most like was the goodly hair
on the gold-oak,
as if Frigg's tears fell
over a fair path.
The skin, soft and very bright,
like white flour;
every limb turns with art and beauty
on the leek-pine.
The linen-garment's sorrow
I long for in play's wind;
no fairer lady was created
than graceful Rind.
It is for me both blizzard and frost
and dire pain;
the flame plays from the bride's love
in my breast.
Her brows and eyelash-wheels
gladden men,
and it is like lightning from the sun
and flame therewith.
All is mingled with anguish and longing,
my pleasure-hall;
the heart flames as hot as it may
for the ring-pine.
My strong longing will not cease —
I stiffen all over;
sorrow breeds for the ring-Gná
on my mind's platform.
The Sons of King Ingi
I will cease the praise-poem
about the ring-Ná here;
a prince ruled the realm
who cut shields.
Ingi I name that lord
who ruled men;
to warriors he gave Fáfnir's hall
and the sea's gladness.
The prince ruled the Danish ground
with virtue's branch;
the lord raised with the battle-Hrund
so fair a son.
Hjálmþér the folk name him,
who cast the battle-roar;
the strong-natured prince won
and broke the steel.
Eager to sate the greedy wolf
in the arrow-journey,
to run ropes and dash through crags
and redden swords.
So shall I enlarge the storm-meeting
with meter-falls;
keen I name the wealth-Þundr —
Earl Eirekr.
The prince adorns the maiden
and the necklace-Rist;
the lord has gotten himself an heir
by the treasure-hoard.
Ölvir the men name him,
who gives the serpent's hoard
to his followers, and won valor
at the sword-assembly.
Ready to redden bloody swords
in the brand-storm,
swift on skis and quick on journey
across the king's field.
The men exerted themselves, and the prince's sons,
in many a skill;
nowhere has the helmet-tree
lost his valor.
Wherever the point-storm grew,
or Odin's spell,
no steel-tree could stand
against them in strong battle.
The two entertained themselves among men
by day, as I have told;
they then bound a brother-bond
with gentle faith.
Warriors woke the fir-tree's flood,
so bloody the sea;
each swore oath upon the other's blood
and fulfilled it.
The Queen's Death and the Voyage
I have heard that the shield-Hlín
was seized by sickness;
nobly she bade farewell to her prince
and to many folk.
The thorn-slope bade them summon
her lord:
"Ölvir next, and Earl Eirekr,
and my heir."
Artfully now the king's bride
yielded her life;
folk raised a mound on the ground
over the king's wife.
The mighty king breeds sorrow
for the ring-Gná;
noble people turned to the prince
and spoke then:
"Get yourself a worthy wife again,
bold prince;
prepare from home a swift vessel
and glad men."
The prince answers, blowing from his mind
with bitter mood:
"I want no other woman,
nor island-maiden."
The king adorns his men
with Fáfnir's reef:
"Then bring hither the veiled Lín
who is fairest."
Warriors push from Denmark forth
the dale-serpent;
the wind bends the splendid yard
in a mighty storm.
The sail-ship ran over the salty
oar-tarn;
men held the flight-bear
toward a fair island.
They lower sail by fair sand
and moor the ship;
men wish to the little land
to lay their course.
The Sorceress and the Enchantment
Men saw there a fair farm
and a veiled rider;
that cunning one knew treacherous craft
and foul sorcery.
To men she seemed very fair,
that ring-possessor;
thanes bought the thorn-slope
for the king at once.
Through Kölga's realm the ship glides —
cold was the billow;
that thrall was bold
who would follow them.
Hörðr is not pleased
with the noble thanes.
Þorngrund says the thrall shall
tend the swine.
Men came to the land home
with the leek-woman;
the king prepared to meet them
with the maiden.
The prince wedded the headband-Hrund
and missed nothing;
the king wished soon
to hold the wedding feast.
To men the leek-woman seemed
stubborn in temper;
little, I hear, she quickly improved
before the king's court.
Hjálmþér sits with Ölvir inside
at the earl's hall;
he finds neither his father
nor the veiled pine.
Hjálmþér lays hatred on this
ring-ground;
to the men he says that a cliff-giantess
is the king's bride.
The lady heard the harsh words
from the prince's scorn;
the sail-post grew angry
and reddened.
The king's heir spoke then,
so bold and clear:
the men wish to go to the forest
to shoot deer.
To men the weather seemed bright
and it was hot;
champions had not many clothes,
for the cold was nothing.
Next came darkness
and thickening skies;
the wind roared on the warriors hard,
and the drift with it.
Arrows groan in the straining wood
and strong was the storm;
champions laid their garments down
as the quickened strife grew.
Thanes rush from the forest fast
and hurry home;
the prince asked the glad court
about the two brothers.
Men had to explain it
to the shield-Ríðr:
"The warriors pursued the deer
with daring and courage."
Here shall end Fjölnir's meeting
for now;
this the thorn-ground wrought
upon the men — strife.
Ríma II
Mansöngr
Herjan's sons, you shall hear the horn-lay
in this poem;
it will lengthen men's longing —
they have left their clothing.
Into the Mountain
Men came to the mountain's slope;
the blowing snow began to grow;
better seemed to the men the strife
of struggling through heavy sleet.
I heard the men that evening
swelled with heavy weariness;
the warriors then saw a bright fire
burning in a cave.
The snowfall begins to descend;
men feel the cold;
it burst up high toward the sky —
men thought they would burn.
Never before had they seen fire
like this appear;
they found a single cave-door —
it made men glad.
Men came into the troll-woman's hall,
both quite stiff;
warriors saw by the fire a troll —
but offered no challenge.
Skrímnir speaks to the sheath-Hlín,
the giantess made answer:
"Look outside, for my sister
promised to come meet me here."
"Truly your sister is a troll,
steeped in malice;
that thorn-Hlín does not thrive —
they will not have long to wait."
Swiftly the woman turned to the place
where the bold ones waited;
the troll-woman rushed at the men
and groped with hands wide.
The bride greets the warriors
and offered to grant them freedom;
glad then grew the champions
and could not refuse such a thing.
The Hawk-Enchantment
She waved her hand over the gentle men,
the cliff-pine, the merry one;
men became hawks —
so swift in every way.
"Fly up into the fair tree;
men shall wait there;
may you gain strength and greatest rest
and lose sorrow and grief."
Fala grew angry in the blizzard;
the rest she could not see:
"You have entirely deceived me —
therefore the warriors come not here."
"This will be dearly bought
if I must search for the men;
what can delay those two warriors
whom the woman promised to me?"
"But I promised you the treasure-hoard —
to torment Ölvir sorely;
Hjálmþér's flesh on a hot spit
I was to roast for myself."
"Grant yourself mercy, grim one,
and go first to sleep;
I will throttle quickly, if they come here,
those two champions both."
Hrauðnir speaks and shakes himself —
he has the troll-folk's frenzy:
"True it is that sleep overcomes me
and weariness attacks me."
Fala's brother fell asleep,
so he sees men nowhere;
Skinnhúfa lets the ski for a time
rattle on the cave's cliff.
The Slaying of Hrauðnir
The giant wakes and startles;
the wife makes to ask:
"Did you not see men earlier?
Tell me that plainly."
"Truly you may take your sleep;
so I will guard the cave;
you need not be afraid then,
for I shall meet the warriors."
Quickly he fell asleep;
the bride could do nothing;
Húfa made the greatest noise,
but Hrauðnir wakes not.
Fala walked through the frost-hall
with a short-sword in hand;
she greeted the warriors, the ring-pine,
and drew the wound-wand.
"Be you both human men,"
spoke the woman, the dark one,
"receive victory and honours again —
may your hearts be glad."
"Ölvir, I give you the keen blade,
the beautiful wound-serpent;
you shall win the giant's bane
and rob that wretch of life."
Ölvir takes from the valiant maiden
the bright wound-serpent;
he drove it so into Loðurr's breast
that the blade stood in the heart.
Ölvir jerks the wound-fir
from the serpent's hot wound;
the grim one began to howl —
so it went with great peril.
Ölvir won now a fair victory
and fine serpent-trails;
bold words and hilt-battle
that Hrauðnir was to endure.
"That fate was meant for you,
Ölvir, most to your hand;
it was a shame that we should
stand by the giant's slaying."
The anger swelled with the prince so
that doom was near at hand;
Húfa gladdened the men then
with many red rings.
"Let Ölvir keep the sword for himself
in the hard point-mass;
the blade, I know, prince —
it will far outstrip all others.
"If wisely you, prince's son,
keep the war-candle's steel,
care never, helmet-tree,
what may be spoken about it.
"Prince, I give you Fáfnir's treasure —
none finer is to be found;
no nobler ring I know
beneath the sky's seat.
"I warn you most about the fair ring —
I must tell you this:
let never the serpent's treasure
be seen by your stepmother."
"You have all that I wished best;
from the warriors I now must part;
may you gain fortune of the greatest
if my will comes to pass."
The Stepmother's Curse
The warriors are now bound for home,
spread with serpent-treasure;
they bear gold and bright thread
out of the grim one's cave.
The warriors pass by the hall
and do not hold to the fortress;
the bride sees the men then
and bore them such sorrow.
The prince wished to stroke
his white arm from the earth-sea;
the ring played on his wolf-limb
so all could see.
The proud one came from the king's hall
to the thanes for the first time:
"You have murdered," said the necklace-pine,
"my noble brother."
"You, Ölvir, have wrought the deed
with the keen wound-wand;
fully I recognize the grim one's bull
by your bold hand."
"I will not repay this strife;
little will I reward you;
flee your land and your folk
and find yourself all for trial.
"One woman alone in the world
of the ring can amend for you,
if you find a young lady
and win the noble maiden.
"It shall be as though glowing embers
play in the mind's land,
until a clever prince's child
sets you free from harm.
"If the brightest ring-Gná wishes
to give you gentle love,
the prince shall with hatred and longing
refuse the ring-Lofn.
"Therefore, if the thorn-ground agrees
to receive the king's heir,
never shall the necklace-grove
enjoy the headband-slope.
"If you look upon the thorn-ground,
sorrow shall seize you;
the heart, sharp in the sword-Þundr,
shall burn from hot love."
"Heavy trials you gave me,
proud cliff-giant;
this shall the sword-rain fall on you
which I have wished to bid.
"On the great chamber and the prince's hall
you stand with each foot;
a pyre shall beneath the cliff-pine
burn in the middle of the street.
"Below, the pyre shall so burn
the wretched bride-pine;
above, the troll-woman shall so freeze —
and none shall come to save you."
"Great sorcery you know;
the champion I will not blame;
none of this holds now —
foolish is such speech."
"There the evil cliff-Gná
shall stand enraged and endure;
if I am freed from long longing,
then life shall fail you."
They parted now from the sheath-Hlín
and hurried home to the benches;
Hjálmþér breeds sorrow and pain —
he cares not to drink.
Up on the sea's hill
the ugly cliff-Prúðr has come;
the king's thralls at the cliff-pine
kindle a pyre between her feet.
Above, the troll-woman took the frost;
the lady suffered torment;
the flame roasts the steering-belly
and she stood there unto death.
The bright Austri's ship I have
pushed from memory's hall;
here shall fall from the wisdom-path
Fjölnir's beer entirely.
Ríma III
Mansöngr
Again fell from the wisdom-land
Fjölnir's noble wine;
now shall the stream of Víðrir flow,
and one must closely tend it.
Herjan's horn-sea I therefore bear:
the king made to ask —
"How shall a prince so act
that it bring you joy?"
The Smithy and the Expedition
"Ships and weapons and blue shields
let men go to forge;
in the spring I will let the wave-horses
glide forth from the land."
"There is in the land a man of skill
who can forge the serpent's lair;
Sigurðr gladly makes to shine
shields and helms of beauty."
He had the strong star-horses
forged upon the strand;
there shall the glad king then
ride among his men.
This was done at the king's wish;
thanes go to forge;
the prince prepared himself that hour
upon the fair saddle-wolf.
The prince rode with the bridled beast
along a steep heath;
Ölvir turns away with the lord —
and no more retainers.
Men dismounted from the saddle-horse;
they saw a farmstead so fair;
swift warriors sat there,
and Sigurðr goes to forge.
"Ölvir, bear my errand;
I wish to ride the heath.
Your prince intends to wait at home
in the earl's hall."
I heard men parted there;
swiftly the day will pass;
the king mounts the bridled horse
and prepares to ride the heath.
The Troll-Woman on the Heath
Sigurðr, I heard, promptly bade
the prince's son gently:
"Stay with us through the dark night,
for it is dim to ride home.
"Or else I will follow the prince
out across this heath —
there the cliff-Gná has
slain men on evil paths."
"I need not," said the prince, bright,
"your thanes' attendance;
my swift bridled beast —
it will not carry me long."
The lord will not stay there
nor be with the ring-grove;
the king spurs the yard-horse
and gallops up onto the heath.
It was so dark the warrior saw
hardly well enough to ride;
there bore a light from the sea
that seemed to shine from afar.
There flew one that moved so nimbly,
wondrously swift to see;
the prince saw a single troll-creature
who carried a white brand.
The tail is thick as a deer's rump —
the lady knew her arts;
she flung the sword high aloft
and caught it with her mouth.
The snout is long with teeth below;
she stretches her grey neck;
her hindquarters are like a mare's to see —
ugly is all to behold.
A cauldron hung before the hag's mouth;
hooves are on her feet;
terrible she seemed, the arrow-Rún,
beside most human women.
Hjálmþér asked the cave-giantess:
"What is the ogress's name?
To troll-folk you are monstrously like —
you carry the helmet-striker."
"Vargeisa is my name, prince's son —
hear that plainly;
I need not ask further
your name to learn."
The Kiss and the Sword
It played in the prince's mind-strand,
his thought still on the blade:
"Will you sell the wound-wand
for the serpent's red sand?"
"Earlier I had a fairer choice
over Fáfnir's market;
the blade I shall not, prince,
sell for the serpent's lair.
"To me shall the weapon-grove give
a fair kiss;
then receive the sword from us,
set with serpent-paths."
It played in his mind-hall
that the hag wished to mock him;
she was a cunning cliff-pine
who could speak such things.
"I buy dearly," the prince said,
"that white blade,
if I must approach the troll-woman —
for terrible you are to see.
"Better would be a wound from the blade
and being put to death's torment;
our honour is lost
if we kiss your snout."
The mountain woman spoke terribly,
her hair flapping about the ogress:
"I am hardly ugly in stature —
be easy about this."
It came to the prince's mind-strand
what Húfa had told:
if he got the gleaming shield-wand,
then he should win all through it.
The king went to the wolf-creature's snout
and took the wound-wand;
then he kissed the cliff-bride —
the sword is in the prince's hand.
Snarvendill and the Thrall Hörðr
"Snarvendill has a polished edge,
hardened in serpent-venom;
it never falters in the point-storm
to carve the wolf's feast.
"I know no fairer sword
in all this world,
the edge bathed in the serpent's troop
and gleaming with the sea's vapour.
"Prince, remember — this is what I ask,
stern against the wise thorn-ground:
choose that man from the prince's host
who can win something for you.
"There is one thrall in the king's court
whom the thanes little esteem;
Hörðr is least honoured of all men —
he has lost all wisdom.
"That dark thrall I spoke of earlier,
prince, choose for the journey;
he was a child when the mail-fire's
bright posts were broken.
"That will lead the wise sword-Þundr
to the greatest grace,
though it seem little to your mind —
then let him rule all."
"The weapon-grove I now must leave,"
the troll-wife bade farewell;
"may you gain strength from my meeting,
greatest victory and fortune."
Return and Departure
The prince rides home to the hall;
the court sits drinking;
the lord was glad with men,
greeting all the warriors.
The prince boasts of his homeward journey
and held the wound-wand;
warriors have not seen a better sword
in any man's hand.
The lord sits now home a while,
wise in his own land;
there comes again a kindled strife
with sorcery and sorrow's brand.
The wise prince's kin shall have
brave men and many:
"Let us launch upon the lobster-ground
the flood-wolves."
The prince has now fixed that plan
which was first shown on the heath;
he finds thereafter Hörðr with deed
and greets the ring-grove.
"Hörðr, I give you Hanðir's mail
and the stiff hilt-serpent;
do not have this work silently —
for it is not good to refuse."
"It does not suit me
to forget this labour;
the man will therefore in the king's court
have swine still to tend."
"Step with us onto the star-hound,
said the steel-pine, the famous;
let us set forth upon the whale-ground,
the salt sea-bed."
"You will get no journey from me
with the fair serpent-thrones,
unless I rule, prince,
you and all your men.
"But if the lord will be so,"
said the giver of serpent-bane,
"I alone, if we part ways,
shall rule the prince in all things."
Therefore, I heard, the thorn-Gautr agreed
that the thrall shall rule all;
this will push strife from the path
out of the prince's mind-hall.
"A decorated longship and two warships,
prince, take from the land,
where the grim one's maiden rages
at the golden ship's prow.
"Go to the ships," said the bold one,
"and prepare before your men;
prince, I will come then to the strand,"
the steel-pine declared.
The prince turned from the forest to the ground
and announced with pride:
"It has deeply entered my mind
rather to reduce the host.
"Famous warriors, go you home,"
said the flinger of Odin's tents,
"tend the raven, and with two ships
I shall hold upon the sea."
Men prepare about the south-door
and set ships from the boat-houses;
the host turns up onto the land,
away from the prince's brave warriors.
Hörðr readies himself for the journey
and delays no longer;
the wind comes sharply to the men
and then no sailing falters.
When he comes upon the wave-stag,
he frightened the folk, should they dare;
his weapons are made of wondrous stuff
and a mighty rope-burden.
The tempest roars about Geiti's ship;
the gale swells in the sails;
the storm-wall beat in the strong sea
from the stern king's sheets.
The mighty grim-one's sea I have
told of many men;
the famous warriors sail then
toward jutting cliffs.
Men lower the sail there
by the white sea-battle;
Herjan's horn-horse fails;
men see the cliffs.
Ríma IV
Mansöngr
Here shall Fjölnir's noble wine
be brought to men swiftly;
the prince shall the first night
guard the fair ships.
Íma and Her Sisters
The prince kept watch on the longship;
precious was the blade in hand;
the prince saw the giantess then
turning on the cliff-face.
Hjálmþér asked the ogress quickly:
"Tell your name, troll-woman —
does the monstrously ugly creature
have a mountain hall or shelter?"
"Íma is my name, prince's son;
I count myself a hunter.
We shall meet, king's son,
if I come to your ships.
"Others I have, keener than myself —
eight brave sisters;
prince, I think you will find
the serpent-pines fair.
"Hergunna is the hag's name,
prince, I will tell you clearly:
who on the broad-plank raven
has the brand-tree to steer?"
The warrior answered, most angry,
plundered of the serpent's brook:
"Hjálmþér was at home the name
first given me in the realm."
"Here they come," says the frost-maid,
"my strong sisters;
out to the ships we intend
to torment the prince's men."
The crag-pine had forged
a claw of hard steel;
the prince saw upon the tidal flat
what terrible things the trolls did.
The Troll-Battle at the Ships
The troll-women placed themselves on the tidal ground
and moved out to the ships;
Hjálmþér drew the corpse-roller —
he will harm the ogresses.
The prince woke the point-song,
locks of wounds to deal:
"Wake, Ölvir — it is likely
that women wish to seize you."
"Do not wake me for any bright lady,"
the prince spoke from anger;
"see rather in your mind that one —
the dark mare on the heath."
Men take their blue spear
and the firm mail of Hanðir;
then the ogresses were at the ships
and climbed on both gunwales.
One went down and sank in the sea
to rob Ölvir of life;
the dragons received her dead there
from the dark wound-knife.
One troll-woman rowed back to the longship,
yet resolved to reach the prow;
she intended with her sorcery's power
to give death to the champions.
Hörðr's Club
The hag came upon Hörðr;
she got her journey's reward:
the warrior lets Rota's club
ride upon her shoulders.
The spikes sank into the troll-woman's flesh;
the creature screams with rage;
to men the herring-field
seemed black with ogress-blood.
"Here in the prow is a strong warrior" —
she climbed up on the cargo;
"I cannot fight men any longer,
for doom is prepared for the thanes.
"I was given so grim a blow
by the worthy wealth-stream;
gore seeps from the wounds —
we shall not conquer.
"My back and spine are broken in two;
I bear many a wound;
this warrior wrought grim marvels
in a single blow."
Íma pressed hard at the prince
while Hjálmþér thrust;
the ogress got a pain of wounds from the blade —
it bit the hand off the troll.
The troll-women held to flight now,
five from the herring-roads;
behind lingered one and three,
life-stripped by the ships.
Skrímnir in the Cliffs
"Warriors, take now rest and mercy
from this assault so strong" —
the prince wishes on the fair road
to go forth along the cliffs.
The prince went up onto the jetty
with the sharp wound-serpent;
Ölvir followed the keen warrior
and no other champions.
The men who had woken blood
and given the bold wolf his due —
men heard the giant's voice
so that every cliff rang.
Men sat and listened to
what the giant told:
he said he would attempt
to avenge his daughters.
"Warriors, I trust, will offer me
the bright fire of the Rhine;
they have murdered in bed beside them
my daughters, the bold ones."
Skrímnir saw lying nearby
the swift warriors sitting:
"Now the cowards are off the ships —
they shall find death."
Warriors turned toward the cliff;
it bore down upon the thanes;
the prince said that not everything
would go according to wishes.
The Stone-Battle
The giant flung a hammer free
and thought to crush the warriors;
men seized the great staff —
the giant got nothing from it.
Men kicked against the boulders,
bracing with their strength;
the cliff could not endure the mighty charge
so that it served the warriors.
The giant bowed beneath the stone-cast;
the hard legs cracked;
the goat's skull burst against the cliff,
the breast was battered against the crags.
The messengers, I believe, in the bright hall
swiftly howled with the hammers;
the cliffs crumbled and the mountains shook —
Skrímnir followed with the rubble.
The fury bore forth over the fair camp;
giver of Fáfnir's skis, attend:
the giant went home to his death,
his brain scattered wide.
The Hall in the Mountain
Warriors had to endure that
straight with strong hardship;
the cliffs closed in on the men
so that nowhere could they walk.
Quickly in the cliffs they fell asleep,
the breakers of the giants' speech;
the men awoke because of this —
they were in a single hall.
No prince did they see there,
but what made men glad:
the table was set before the warriors
with a fine and ready feast.
They saw a glad sea-fire
that cheered the swift warriors;
nowhere were there doors on the house
so that men might find them.
Men amused themselves at chess,
adorned with the serpent-land;
strength began to grow in the warriors
from the fair horn-ale.
The prince had no thought
of meeting his warriors;
there the king slept the bear's night —
I polish my verse.
Ölvir asked Hjálmþér aloud:
"The prince will explain —
will the king's bear-night
ever entirely pass?"
The strong storm-steerer answered
the steel-one fairly:
"Rather the serpent's weariness lessens —
therefore winter will pass."
The prince woke in the morning early,
the linden of the serpent's ground;
the prince saw the hall's door
and remembered his warriors.
The prince stared out onto the great sea
from the jutting cliff;
the king bore bitter longing
because he saw men nowhere.
Then all was empty and cleared out,
the terror-pyre from the hall;
they prepared then to go,
both breakers of the giants' speech.
Reunion and Reproof
The prince saw upon the sea
a brisk host lying;
the prince then cast off grief
and recognized his warriors.
They pushed out to the sea's shelves,
men of stiff steel;
they stepped out on the wind's horse,
the breakers of the giants' speech.
Hörðr sat and listened as
the court greeted the prince;
the leaf-Týr was ugly then,
but little to blame among the warriors.
Hörðr asked Hjálmþér swiftly —
men missed nothing:
"Who gave the king a bear's night
and poured wine to drink?"
"We two held the house alone,"
Hjálmþér made to speak;
"hardly anything was wanting there, I heard —
there was perfect bliss."
"Hardly is it wisdom and sense,
fairer point-breakers,
that you sit in bliss and power
so that none may benefit from it."
The prince kindly answers the men:
"These words are true;
yet the warrior will fairly
ride the flood-horse."
Men saw then a fair land;
so summer went to autumn;
the son's ale disappears from the men
at last from the poetry-boathouse.
Ríma V
Mansöngr
Here shall Herjan's eager ship
run from the praise-boathouse;
here the mind's house opens
to learn that frost-giant's beer.
At Hundingr's Stronghold
Hjálmþér asked the prince's court:
"Hörðr will explain —
what men have journeyed hither,
or who rules this land?"
"Hundingr fought before the autumn,"
said the caster of the serpent-land,
"and with shining blades cut shields
and drove the red brands.
"I knew no nobler man
in all might and splendour;
bid the lord, prince, to stay with him
this winter among your men."
Thanes placed themselves in the thick forest;
it was not far to the stronghold;
there was bloom and birch in the wood —
warriors lost their sorrow.
Warriors waited no longer,
ready to win a hall;
they saw fair gold-adorned women
walking by a grove.
They bade the bright one speak
merrily with them all;
warriors wished to gain favour
from the bright necklace-pine.
Hervör
"Hervör the folk call me;
I know the ring-striker.
Now the maiden wishes to ask you,
spoiler of helms, your name."
"Hjálmþér was my title and name,
given at home in the realm;
I can give the wolf his meal
and gold from the serpent's brook."
Hörðr spoke to the ring-ground:
"Hear, you the battle-cloth,
the most useful one — you shall, Ná-Hrund,
have this prince to own."
"I accept neither command nor cry
from any wicked thrall;
go first to the gallows, fool,
before you speak to noble women."
"Be not offended, steel-grove,
by the prince's bold wife;
rather offer the ring-ground
the bright serpent-trails."
"To the fair maid I give Fáfnir's treasure
found in serpent-lairs —
the noble necklace and ring;
you would be kind to us in counsel."
Hervör saw the ring was made
of pure serpent-gold:
"Home shall you go, prince,
wise in your realm.
"I see that you are pale from sorrow,"
the maiden answered with deeds;
"That is fitting," said the bright oak,
"I shall trust you in counsel.
"Have what suits you best, king,
above all from my counsel;
assign your own shield-grey
to your bright champions.
"Whoever separates from a single man
among your warriors, prince —
in his breast a spear shall break,
and he shall bear death's sting.
"If you see any prince's man
at the harbor of the grim-one's land,
you shall swiftly give
hard vengeance with the blade.
"Now I have given you some counsel,"
says the Nauma of the giants' tongue;
"let us part now with honour and deed —
may you gain all glory."
Hundingr's Court
They saw a strong prince's hall
standing on a fair plain;
it was wrought with Draupnir's flour
and many precious stones.
They went into the splendid hall;
men knew no one;
there the heathen trolls
held the golden horns.
Hjálmþér went before the king's table
and greeted the gracious prince;
then he spoke words of honour
to the king's swift warriors.
"I wished my fair court
would seek lodging here;
there is no lack of treasure
to offer you in return."
Hundingr spoke among the men,
the hidden keeper of the bone-cloth:
"Whence are these men from the lands,
the fair ones from the north?"
"Denmark is the name of the glorious ground;
warriors hold it;
doves drove the dale-hound
over the cold daughters of the sea."
"Who is the man called Hjálmþér?"
Hundingr made to say;
"he has a hard battle-mask
fast locked upon his head."
"That is Ölvir, Eirekr's kin —
he fears nothing;
he does not falter at the point-meeting
and clothes himself in bright shields."
Hörðr Insulted
"Who is that churl standing in the doorway,
slouching at my men?
The fellow grips the club with his fists
and knows no dignity."
Hjálmþér answered the prince's kin:
"Hörðr was his name;
he seldom comes to the point-meeting
with a bright helm-striker.
"He cares for neither Hildr's sea
nor the heavy hilt-serpent;
he seldom comes in fine clothes
and yet can win valor."
"Thrust him into the thrall-pack,"
the king spoke with power;
"warriors should cut mail-coats —
you should keep better company."
Hastigi the folk name him
whom Hundingr called from his seat:
"I assign men that bench,"
the noble prince speaks.
"You will not put me from my seat,"
answered the stout fellow;
"those men will play rough with you —
the prince's victory is ended.
"You never wished, prince,
to manage things thus before;
doom will bend you, king, now —
the prince's fortune is departed."
"Few men are you like;
your ways are terrible;
get out quickly," said the mighty prince,
"fast from your seat."
Hastigi had to leave
before the prince's notable words;
the shield-Gautr then arranged
his own strong cloak.
Hörðr sat down among the men;
Hundingr could see it;
the king spoke and blanched,
his white cheeks turning blue.
Hundingr spoke to Hjálmþér firmly,
hidden by the serpent-brook:
"Home shall you go, bold prince,
wise in your realm."
"I cannot part my ways
from my noble warriors;
the wise sword-Þundr is keen
on his familiar customs."
Hjálmþér woke the sword-shower
among Hundingr's fine warriors;
men poured from the benches
the jewels of Fyri's plains.
With gentle hands — as one expects —
the thanes tip the horns;
I end thus the poem's tone —
men pour out the dregs.
Ríma VI
Three-line stanzas throughout.
Mansöngr
To men I bring a sixfold game and the son's wine;
the warriors' troop and the ring-linden —
most brightly hear my poem.
Hastigi's Challenge
Hastigi came with two horns to the prince's meeting;
wisely he greeted the company
by the fire-wave's shore in this way:
"Hjálmþér, look at the two horns I hold up —
one you shall receive at Yule;
no worse shall you find to test and see.
"Or else you bear a coward's name with hatred and longing;
the gods shall so enrage you
that you may never gain their favour."
Hastigi then departed from the men with his horns;
the prince has gotten pain —
he could not drink the wine.
Hörðr, I heard, wisely gladdened the helm-Gautr:
"Give men the serpent's stream;
I shall overcome this trial.
"Hjálmþér, sit at home in peace among your folk;
prince, this was clear to me —
that I should rule you myself."
The wise sword-rune remembered his oath:
"I shall never break my words —
let this be of your counsel."
The Enchanted Bull
"Those horns," said Hörðr, "are in the world unique;
I tell you with true meaning —
such will hardly be found again.
"Warriors say the king owns a sacrificial bull;
men's longing will grow from that;
I wished to get the horns from it.
"The king's bull kills a third part of the land's thanes;
though men had a great force,
sorcery cannot prevail against its spells.
"The lord trusts in his ox wrapped in the gold of serpents;
he has the head cut from those
who bring the horns home to the prince.
"The horns reach heaven-high, tall as mountains;
the warriors' troop and the great troll —
all greatly fear the bull."
Hörðr and the Bull
One night when Hjálmþér slept among his court,
Hörðr, I believe, most swiftly
won valor on that night.
The shield-Týr hastened where the forest was nearest;
he had locked Hjálmþér's chamber —
he takes Ölvir's gleaming blade.
So came a strong and bitter storm upon the steel-grove;
it drove back the point-Þundr —
the bull spewed venom for a long time.
He drove the blade into Fjölnir's beast and fell upon it;
I will tell the thanes of this —
so it stood for three hours.
Strongly, I heard, he braced against the steel-breaker;
he drove the blade into Loðurr's creature —
the sword plunged through earth and rock.
Out came that dire beast as the warriors watched;
that will test the bold man
if he dares run into battle with it.
The spell-bull roared aloud with fury and rage;
it thought to bring its horns
to Hörðr's breast, to increase pain.
Hörðr leapt between the horns of the prince's bull;
he made men a terror-trial —
they fled into the forest.
With his hands he seized the haunches and held them;
Hörðr's belly lay on the spine;
his neck he braced with his feet.
The prince's champion rides thus with the steel-kin
through shore and forest and fair ground;
I heard they often came to water.
The spell-bull roared aloud with fury and rage;
dreadful blood fell from its jaws;
fair earth was plowed by its belly.
The king's bull bellows so marvellously loud;
it will soon lose its life —
the host will mourn that little.
He drives the blade into the king's bull's side;
the sword met the heart then —
and Hörðr sprang into the forest.
Then I heard he butchered that king's bull;
he had with him the hide
and the golden horns adorned with ornament.
The Horns Delivered
The shield-Týr hastened where the chamber was locked;
he guards the sword, gold-bright,
and stores the horns next.
Men found the prince's hall when night passed;
the feast made men glad —
winter advances to Yule swiftly.
On Yule-eve men drank in the prince's hall,
the noble sails all hung with tapestry
and tempered with red Freynir's flour.
Hastigi came before the king's table and boasts:
"Hjálmþér, bring me the horns,
pure and set with serpent-reef.
"If you have not gotten the horns for me,
next I tell you, prince —
the coward's name you bear here."
Anger leapt into the battle-Þundr at the prince's man;
sorrow bit that prince —
Hörðr himself perceived it.
Hörðr had kept from the king's bull a hide at his side:
"Hastigi, take these horns from me —
Hjálmþér bade me bring them to you."
Hjálmþér flung the horns then at the sword-grove;
the nostrils burst on the point-Þundr —
now blood fell upon the green ground.
The king recognized the courtly horns and called then;
thus the prince got much longing —
the lord was blue entirely to see:
"Who shall hang this sword-Gautr among the men?
So cunning a beast has robbed of life —
the people's health has vanished."
The court said that Hastigi — that one Hundingr bade;
many said it was fitting —
much vengeance he would get at once.
Hundingr pretended not to hear the warriors' speech;
Hjálmþér gives the sea-fire
and grasps the swell and hard steel.
The prince said the host should live;
anger ran from the lord then —
I turn from Rögnir's meeting.
Ríma VII
Hastigi at the Table
The sea-fire's Þundr seized in swift flight
a beautiful ring as if it were a grove;
the prince went before Hastigi's board
and the man spoke these words:
"Hastigi, take this ring from me —
I bring you the harbor's fire;
I hear the warrior of Retti advancing,
the Rhine-fire's sharpest spear."
The falcon-one meets the hand-link;
the prince gives the serpent-stream;
Hastigi threw him into the air —
he has won deceptions many times.
Forward from the spear he flung it down,
the beautiful ring, so it shattered on the wood;
it scattered widely through the prince's hall —
Draupnir's beautiful red dust.
Fury leaped into the storm-warrior's chest
against the wealth-grove of shield-storms;
no warrior was swift enough
to stop the sword-breaker.
Hjálmþér drew the raven-twig,
and wins death's blow upon Hastigi;
the brand cuts through rings —
the body falls crashing entirely down.
Blood ran over all the tables;
the prince calls out loud in the hall:
"Kill this sword-tree who empowers
the raven's sorcery within."
"For him the vengeance was strong and fitting,"
said the prince, the marked lord;
"it was not certainly to be expected
that he would accept such shame."
The court went forward with Hjálmþér;
there was no noise of weapons;
the prince sees the wise lord —
all of the thorn-grove follows.
The prince spoke thus: "Ulfar's judgment
shall await that settlement then;
he will think himself owed strong vengeance
by Hjálmþér to pay."
Warriors went to the bower at evening,
all adorned with sea-fire;
they lay down with skill and deeds —
folk took sleep and rest.
Hörðr Speaks of Ulfar
"Who is that?" Hjálmþér said;
"Hörðr, you shall explain that —
Ulfar he named that prince;
I have no business with this man."
"Now shall warriors hear me —
your entertainment shall grow here;
I can tell more of this champion,
of the king's heir.
"He always ravages the wise man's land,
wins great harm for men;
rather out on the lobster-plain,
on the ship-roller's course all summer.
"A sharp hilt-serpent he bears;
he has endured many blade-storms;
out in lands very swiftly
he has won much of the realm.
"I know no man so strong
who can overcome that berserk;
if Ulfar gets to see the blades,
no sword can bite him.
"His daughter is betrothed to the prince;
the woman greatly pleases the lord;
the prince brings precious gold
home always at midwinter.
"I teach you nothing more,
for now I am weary of it" —
warriors passed the dark night,
and warriors made ready for the hall at dawn.
Ulfar Arrives
He let men go richly arrayed;
champions had not seen such before;
sea-fire about the prince's hall —
from that all the court rejoiced.
Champions heard a terrible sound,
howling high with a maddened spirit;
then there came up to the prince's hall
bitter cries that the troll was making.
A man came into the prince's hall,
huge in size like another troll;
he gnashed his teeth and bore a strong shield,
stiff he carried his hilt-rod.
Then next walked twelve men,
all gnawing like Hrungni's kind;
howling up like wild beasts —
Ulfar turns to the wise king.
Noses could not tell them rightly —
trolls look wrong; teeth jutted long from the skull;
no hair was found on the head;
each was like another to see.
The Challenge
"I offer you," the prince said now,
"sea-fire and a beautiful woman;
receive all the king's realm,
the people of warriors, beautiful and clever."
"Before I sit by the woman's door,
I want warriors to test me;
does any champion here know himself
to call himself my equal in arts?"
All answered his words:
"None is the like of this man;
you bear strength and great power
far too much beyond the king's troop."
Hjálmþér answers, the sword-shaker:
"Truly you know no art —
I did not hear among the king's troop
a coward's goat bleating up."
Ulfar answered, black and swift —
he was more angered than before:
"Who is the warrior so bold
that asks to receive death from me?"
"I offer you for your bitter words
to cleave with brand the frost-giant's forest;
come at morning to meet us —
we shall wake the blood-falls."
"Let us not delay the spear-meeting,"
the warrior answers, the steel-Þundr;
"eagles shall clasp you, Ulfar —
a different night than the woman shall embrace me."
Hörðr's Counsel
Ulfar got most angered
and went out of the king's hall;
Hörðr spoke to the king's kinsman:
"You have wronged your bright mind.
"Do you think to carry out the spear-game,
prince's son, against an empowered troll?
His body has been so cursed
that no sword-edge can bite him.
"He is worse in the weapon-drive
than if you advanced with a hard shield
alongside a hundred men with blue blades,
each hewing as quickly as can be.
"This I want to ask you, prince —
you shall teach me in such a matter:
who shall direct in the steel-dew
a strong shield against Ulfar's blows?"
"Ölvir has from men the most
followed me best in all trials;
he shall drive the shield-rim quickly
before Ulfar's wound-rod."
"That is hardly wise counsel for you —
Ulfar is used to such before;
he breaks with his mail-knife the one
who should hold the bright shield."
"The harm is less at stake for me;
therefore I shall counsel you, prince —
I shall direct in the steel-dew
a strong shield before Ulfar's blows."
"Now I shall show the king before all —
the torn bag follows me here";
Hörðr tore the old rag then —
he takes the beautiful board of Óðinn.
Filabein and Fáfnir's cry —
to warriors it seemed to gleam from the road;
steel mounted in the strong rim,
large and heavy in the warrior's hand.
"This I believe will hold against the frost-giant's blows
in the sharp steel-meeting;
it came there before any metal was felt —
neither mail nor helm could be split.
"I shall go with the bright brand
to get you another shield;
it dulls so the costly edge
that it helps nothing in the metal-storm.
"The king's son can trust in me,
I shall not deceive you;
then the prince shall have the brand
when it is best brought to blows."
"Let Ulfar fall to the ground at once —
warriors shall empower themselves immediately;
let the clash of swords ring upon warriors,
so the army crashes on the forest."
Warriors dressed themselves in Fróði's shirt;
the spear-shower shall be strong;
let none spare the shield-breaking —
let each fasten his wound-knife.
Battle Joined
Ulfar comes with a sorcerous host,
calling out loud with a maddened spirit:
"King's son, has courage left you
to fight against me?"
"Few shall find that in me —
that I flee at all before you;
we shall carry out the spear-shower;
then blood will flow from wounds."
"Where is that weapon of yours, wise one,
that can overcome my life?
Many a warrior is hidden to himself —
thus death seeks hard after you."
"Here is that sword at my side
that shall win victory and harm you";
the prince drew it from its sheath —
Ulfar blew against it and laughed.
"The keel-warrior need not
fear this, sword-grove;
prince, I want to teach you —
no spear can bite me."
Warriors rushed eagerly together;
that rage had to be divided;
steel rang in the strong shield-rim —
swords crashed from there.
Warriors strive for the bright woman;
both wished to love then;
here I shall lay down the wealth-ground's river —
one alone falls for a time.
Ríma VIII
Mansöngr
I open my mind for the eighth time;
to men I must give it —
therefore the sea-fire begins for us;
let the finest hear my dear song.
A woman has drained me in the grove of speech
from sore necessity;
the most painful longing I heard of
came from the deaths of Saul.
The Battle with Ulfar
Those warriors who could redden the bright spear
in blood —
sharp blows in the sword-dew,
each offered the other.
They rushed at each other with fury at once,
warriors swiftly from their places;
shield-rims crashed hard against shields,
and all the ground shook from it.
They shoved with the dark spear
Skögul's shirt apart;
the wound-knife cut the bright shield
straight as if it were tinder.
Ulfar struck in the wound-dew
with all his might;
Hörðr snapped the frost-giant's earth
hard in the rain of spears.
The white sword bites into the hollow center;
Hjálmþér's shield split in the middle;
they jostled each other over the sharp spear,
hard at the work of brands.
Ulfar bent in the blade-trial;
the prince was given a moment;
the wound-rod in the wise one's hand
was as if it were drawn aside.
White Ulfar looked at the leaf of fire
playing in the prince's hand;
he paled when he saw the brand
and felt the wound-serpent.
Ulfar asked when he steered the strife,
the strong Fenjan work:
"Prince's kinsman, with a brave heart —
who gave you the strong brand?"
Hjálmþér drew back when he dealt the blow,
the hilt-serpent the beautiful one;
the brow's swell ran, the wound-surface
quickly cut from the flagstone.
The club gripped the champion swiftly —
he knows how to deal that;
Hörðr struck with both hands so
that brains looked for fragments.
Ulfar falls; the serpent-ring rang
often in the sword-gust;
very many a hungry wolf
pressed forward to the blood.
Hjálmþér rode, he was ready then,
calling on his warriors:
"Redden our swords on the king's march
and break the altar of skulls."
The prince's guard is driven from life
and flees into the forests;
the raven got plenty of corpse-food
where Hjálmþér had walked.
Ölvir strikes in the wound-dew
the race of men to death;
wound-water ran over the brows —
the red one fell to the ground.
Hörðr smoothed and broke skulls
with the blow of his club;
each spike cut the champion
and called up death within.
Shield-rims rang at the warriors' fall,
shields split apart green,
spears broke at sword-meeting,
and fine helmets burst.
Surrender
The hard mail was torn from the sword-rim
of Handin's rending shirt;
the eagle sated himself at the wound-tarn,
and banner-men fell on the fields.
Men flew apart like Sörli in the fierce hail of wounds;
the sweat poured from the body
hard into the dark forest.
Hörðr ordered the warrior-band
to still the battle hard:
"Go home from the spear-swirl —
find the noble lord.
"Tell Hundingr, so all folk hear,
two hard choices:
give the woman, or let him feel the weight of spears —
let him learn grimness."
"Give us the woman, and we shall seek it,"
said the guardian of the land;
"a sword shall stand in your breast if you refuse me
and say no to me."
"The noble woman — then you have chosen;
I give her with honor and dignity,
and with her the sword and hard steel,
all of Hundingr's realm and folk."
Hervor at Sea
The woman who had earlier been the fastest falcon
hurried then with the host of men
rushing down to the sea-skis.
Hörðr went, he who had shown Hjálmþér
true honor in friendship;
he bored the ship, the brand-tree —
for warriors that will prove fatal.
He sailed away with silk and sword
and the fine lady in peace;
grimness entered the lord's breast
and went with him in hard striving.
He gathered quickly in the dark night;
the prince was stripped of comforts;
he went to the strand, the blade-biter,
with bitter sorcery-counsel.
He sees now where the woman sails;
since he cannot benefit from that,
Hundingr orders the warrior-band
to drive the ships to sea.
Hundingr orders the warrior-band
to hurry the ships onto the sea;
the fleet sank quickly with the sail-company —
ships dove into the waves.
Hundingr saw that the blue rocks
had begun to destroy his men;
it increased his anger that he had lost the people —
he will show sorcery in it.
Such a storm came that the serpent-rope
steered back to land again;
Hundingr lay and grabbed at the whale
hard at the ship's keel.
Hjálmþér called on his swift men,
the hidden ones to be still:
"See now here where Hundingr goes
in the whale's evil form."
Hörðr was asked about the flat sea
to fling the serpent-load:
"Give that counsel on Geitir's cargo,
that the champions may find aid."
"Here will the host of thanes
seize the heavy dead one;
I believe," said the resin-tree,
"that I shall go under the planks.
"He knows the weapons like Víðrir's words —
you watch your warriors;
I shall explain to you, but I understand
that none shall name me."
The ship trembled as the brightness-path
from the whale's body appeared;
another ran out of the ship's end
forward into the wave's clamor.
Warriors saw these things —
they tore each other apart;
blood flowed over the flat sea
so it seemed a wonder to men.
The whale that had approached Hundingr
received a monstrous wound;
cut asunder from the great gash,
for that it met with weariness.
Rescued from the Whale
The skirt-Gná found on that found one —
she got such sore needs;
the ring-gate thought quickly
that Hörðr was certainly dead.
"I ask now," said the bright woman,
"this prayer I may receive;
the least of cries," said the ring-chain,
"I shall lie in the keel."
Warriors saw where the blue whale
ran to a white wave;
forward there where the found one was —
strange to look upon.
Those two whales tore
the monster asunder;
and they bore him into the fish-hall —
men found aid.
Very quickly the ring-gate began then
and Hörðr went out of the keel;
up into the ship before the resin-tree
after such hard fighting.
Beautiful and loyal, wet and sad,
Lofn wraps the bright one;
it is now told — the speech-bridge
draws sorrow through the heart.
"The host of women gave men life,"
Hörðr explained;
"the ring-ground for many a wound
I can barely steer."
The bed was ready on the sailing-wing
all trembling with rings;
Ran's flood and red blood
ran over Hörðr's calves.
Ran's bear ran about the whale-tarn
with the prince's warrior;
the rock burst hard against the hull —
men had that [to endure] for a long time.
The sea-horse carries the host of men
from land swiftly;
the prince's people stood strong and wise,
standing on the sand.
The dart-grove and the earth of women
greeted the host at the meeting;
[the king] bids them to the stronghold home —
the prince's nature was good.
He led then the bright woman —
the prince's court, clever;
the wand of wretches fell from the wise hall
into the fire at last.
The refuge-gate cried out loud
when the wild flagstone was burned;
she shrieked so that the forest shook beside her
and the beautiful earth.
Hjálmþér gladdened and gave gold
to his precious champions;
the wise and gentle prince bids
Hörðr to rule the realm.
"I cannot receive from the gentle king
Þjassi's loud poem;
I tell you from myself —
I must go to tend swine."
I told of the old men —
warriors hold them in memory;
the bear that Fjölnir found
I fell in the eighth fall.
Ríma IX
Mansöngr
Rögnir's beer shall flow out
from the warrior's land of mind;
let folk hear the horns' part
and Herjan's dear mixture.
Immediately when winter passed from men
I must explain such things;
sorrow fell on the wealth-tree
so as not to rule the powerful.
The Voyage North
I heard that Hjálmþér brought home
the dear Gerðr of women;
their happiness did not come near to them —
the precious necessity was borne hard.
The Niflung waited with need and strife;
they could never enjoy each other;
the wise one waited of that gold-need,
sorrow in the mind's tent.
The prince went to find Hörðr
but got no comfort from him;
the prince called the swine-guard
to sail around Geiti's shores.
"The prince shall explain to us
before we agree to the voyage:
where does the warrior want to sail the ship
on Skelingr's falls?"
"I shall explain to you of that hall —
we shall hold to searching;
I want to repay with the flame of grief
the one who counseled giving me good."
"I will not come into this folly —
I need not visit such a thing;
she is so previously made from weakness —
I therefore stay home sitting.
"I can tell you, sword-shaker,
so it is fitting for you in trials:
the prince receives another lodging —
and gets no reward."
"The prince shall in this search
employ his warriors;
they shall adjudge death's harm
to those who will fight against the wand.
"Let there be no delay on the voyage;
quickly is all made ready" —
Hörðr carries the fleet the most
forward on the herring-plains.
"Peingill [the prince], I shall follow you,
the dart-tosser of the trouble-rod;
meet me not on the road, prince's son,
even if you come into some peril.
"You shall alone steer the harbor-deer
homeward from the land;
then shall the black swell be cleft
cold before the ship's brand.
"The prince chose in this voyage
to make no use of thralls;
take no such resin-tree
to sorrow over afterward."
The wise one set strong men
to steer the realm at home:
"Let each do," said the champion then,
"as gold befits the fur.
"I want to give the men to the smooth earth,
beautiful land, peace-giving;
adjudge death's harm to those
who will fight against the wand.
"Let there be no delay on the voyage;
quickly is all made ready" —
Hörðr carries the fleet the most
forward on the herring-plains.
Shipwreck
The wind blew quickly into the sail-cloth;
men pulled the ropes taut;
north to land with Niflung's troop —
the bear of navigation began to run.
The swell was of a dark blue;
the knorr began to run;
warriors saw the rocks
that Hjálmþér thought he knew.
The swell seemed very dark
and wound about the ship's brand;
next the harbor-deer was driven
urgently aground.
The tempest thundered about Geiti's shore,
snarling it seemed in the haven;
they got nowhere into harbor —
the ship capsized on the sea.
I heard that the deep swallowed there
all of Hjálmþér's champions;
the sea-Geimir sank the prince's
clever host below.
The prince had gained by skill
a long swim to endure;
Ölvir showed honor and deeds —
so I heard, and Hörðr the swimmer.
Warriors kneaded the wave's water;
then up they were cast on the sand;
Hörðr was then quite dead indeed
when warriors came to land.
Bearing Hörðr
"I cannot follow the sword-shaker,"
Hörðr said with deeds;
"prince, you have lost warriors —
you have stripped the trouble-laden.
"It went as I told you —
you sent the champions away;
Fjölnir's fire and the ship by skerries
and the fair cords of flax.
"Let warriors go the three days
to search the dark forest;
warriors look for that hall then —
I shall explain the truth to you.
"Thanes look on the third evening —
many fine folk;
the stronghold gleams with wave-fire
and adorned with all dignity."
"Now it is better for the trouble-land
to receive the Niflung's heir;
bury me down in the green sand —
I shall lie there dead."
They turned toward the sword-grove;
Hörðr was taken up and was silent;
the mind steadied in the steel-Þundr;
the body was stiff to stir.
"Bury him down in the green sand,"
Ölvir said thus;
"we shall know courtly land after,
if we might find the champion."
"I shall never flee from Hörðr,"
Hjálmþér spoke with dignity;
"I carry him dead for the three days,
as the spear-storm-weather bids.
"That I shall repay to the leaf-Þundr —
he freed me from trouble;
therefore I shall make a mound on the green ground
for Hörðr dead.
"I shall clothe the sword-Þundr in the mound
in a pure hide;
therefore the dead dart-tree
shall I enrich with dragon's earth."
Warriors bore Hörðr on their shoulders —
they had such a long road;
Ölvir felt the ill deed was done
under a thrall to go.
The day passed and the dark evening —
warriors found the hall;
the brave ones kindled the men's fire
and went to their rest.
Deep sleep fell upon Hjálmþér quickly;
I want to explain that to men;
Ölvir kept watch all night —
nothing came to harm.
Another day with dead Hörðr —
warriors wanted to go;
there was no strength to be found —
they had such a long road.
They got much weariness even so;
they could barely stand;
the thrall became so heavy then —
that can be called a wonder.
The hall stood by the forest;
wise warriors saw it;
warriors put down the burden there;
both were then weary.
Hjálmþér should hold watch
with the beautiful hilt-serpent;
the prince stared straight at Hörðr —
but still the night would pass.
I heard that sorrow and labor
pulled sleep upon the wealth-tree;
then Hörðr had gone away
when Hjálmþér woke from sleep.
Nowhere could he see Hörðr —
the wand-Þundr;
the prince had then such strong longing
that he could barely stand.
At once Ölvir woke
after morning's mass;
"Keel-tree, dress yourself quickly —
I believe there is a trick in this.
"Now Hörðr has gone away —
I want to tell men that;
I shall feed many trials from this
if I cannot find him.
"Let us hurry from the hall away —
we shall search for Hörðr;
I shall find the wealth-Gautr,
if fortune will grant it."
Warriors searched the forest widely;
I shall tell men that;
trouble bites the Niflung hard —
he gets not Hörðr to find.
King Úlfrekr's Hall
The prince came to a fair plain —
I heard that at evening;
they saw there a strong hall
steaming with wave-fire.
Warriors looked there a short way from the hall,
laid out with many folk;
I say that the clever host
held a game with dignity.
Warriors would sit in the lord's hall
out in the straw;
then the wise prince's guard
came to visit the stronghold.
The wise one went with glad men,
beautiful and large to look upon;
he gave warriors generously
of serpent's swallowed white.
Úlfrekr they named that lord —
so he was set to rule thanes;
the prince knew much to achieve,
and he holds warriors precious.
The king began to inquire — it was told to me —
that lord gave the serpent's load:
"What is the custom here among warriors
to set guests to comfort?
"It may well happen that the wise people
might lose banner-warriors;
let the guard be slain, or the flood of Drafnar drown them —
be powerful, be stern."
"Let warriors look for those men
who bear you recognition from nowhere;
lead them forward with small ceremony —
I want to see those men then."
The prince's man went with a light
to examine the clever folk;
he recognized neither of those two warriors
who had come there to the hall.
The lord's man thought of Ölvir
and I heard no recognition;
Hjálmþér became hostile to the one holding him —
he drew the sword.
He kicked hard at the sword-grove —
so the hall-man went stumbling;
close to disaster — the Þundr in his lack of wit —
the Niflung's man twisted away.
Champions want with grimness and spirit
to seize both warriors;
the prince speaks to the gentle people:
"Seek aid for them.
"Champions have good lineage,"
said the keeper of the red ring;
"their ship has met skerries,
and the warriors have gotten death."
The prince bids them to sit now —
brave warriors both —
next to him with useful grace,
adorned in the trouble-loads they had borne.
Hjálmþér was quick to stare
at the bold wealth-bleaker;
he stares at the prince straight
and does nothing else but wait.
The prince gave him these questions —
the warrior asked of this:
"You have never had your eye off me —
lessen that within."
Hjálmþér gave these answers then,
the bright ring-giver:
"I had a fair foster-father —
he got the name of Hörðr.
"I therefore stare at the prince,"
Hjálmþér said thus;
"you have those brow-lights
that Hörðr had to direct."
"Your heart is set toward cutting,
to hew quickly before ravens;
no easy matter for men —
to equal us to a thrall.
"Hörðr was a black swine-thrall,
treacherous and badly caught;
men did not find him easy —
I heard he spoiled everything."
I heard the sword-kinsman grew
with pain for my lesser deeds —
anger sharpened the ring-Þundr,
to win harm against the lord.
The warrior thought of the death-trial —
to win the dart-Þundr's end;
then Ölvir had drawn away
the thin hilt-plant.
Úlfrekr answered most gladly:
"No need to hide such things —
hardly will you find a braver man:
warriors will prove that.
"Here warriors can see Hörðr —
this land I have to rule;
and with that the resin-earth man, Gretti-great,
and the dear host of warriors.
"Therefore I shall reward the champion now
with gold and red rings;
prince, you have freed three siblings
from great troubles."
That the prince bade then from himself —
ready with the plant-blade:
"Rule all, Hjálmþér here —
as home in your own realm."
Úlfrekr gave serpent's earth
freely in his hall;
here shall I close Lóðurr's meeting —
I close with Ása memory.
Ríma X
Mansöngr
Fjölnir's drink from the learning hall
I bring to the silk-linden;
the precious ring-tree never goes from me
out of the pale wind.
Fáfnir's earth-oak has driven
all joy from me;
the goddess bans me from the fresh game —
the pale storm-stream meets me.
Therefore I lie most before the leek-Gná,
limbed in love's fire;
all cools in cold longing,
alive in the mind's welling.
Harm has never been given me equal
as from the white necklace-carver;
therefore I shall describe to champions
the golden name of the web-mist.
The river-glow often must strive
with men's anger;
longing wakes us, web-ground red —
the brand is west to forge.
Now I have bound the bright island
of the burning serpent-load;
there warriors can rightly guess
the ring-maid's name.
Grief struck me, silk-linden —
I believe that in sincerity;
I felt longing in the pack's wind
before the wand of serpent-strands.
I praise not Fjölnir's meeting
with a beautiful mansöngr-blend —
even if most I am kept for the ring-ground
with harm standing in my breast.
I shall risk for the ring-linden
offering a friend to Herjan;
she gave me strife in the goddess-wind —
god-like necklace-tread.
I shall not give entertainment to warriors
about the thorn-Gná;
I want now to speak of those warriors
who kept blood-sweat of wounds.
The Sisters
He who named the lord's ground
gladdened his warrior with gold —
he had many spear-meetings
and sated the pale horses.
Now that champion equals kings —
dear it was to him to tend swine;
Úlfrekr adorns the lord's name
and the leader of men well-honored.
Úlfrekr adorned the serpent-bridge
of his dear men;
Swede-cold is now called
the land the king had to rule.
He had two sisters —
I must tell men of them;
warriors find nowhere far or near
fairer women.
They live in the bower, splendid women,
and entertain themselves with riches;
two sisters with a life of honor
give warriors entertainment.
The women know speech of wisdom
and ask of every realm;
they adorn the bright hall-dwelling
adorned with plant-blade.
The ladies bear beautiful hair
and give comfort to warriors;
wonderful and Frigg's-like tears
fall over the decorated ornaments.
Warriors guard them there in the bower
with dark wound-rods hidden;
a hundred warriors I heard bore
curved swords in their hands.
Úlfrekr spoke to the wealth-tree:
most gladly around all his folk:
"Does the prince want Hjálmþér's ground
— the ring with all dignity?"
The prince answered his thanes quickly;
I must tell this:
warriors went to the bower quickly
to find the bright sisters.
Both sisters greeted their brother
and all the prince's folk;
one was the other wealth-Lín —
but bore the greater dignity.
Hjálmþér sat beside her down;
I want to tell men that;
Ölvir spoke to the other one —
I heard none object to that.
I know that Ölvir spoke to the weaver-Rist,
beautiful was the bright woman:
"I saw that sword-shaker before —
then suffering played about the heart."
Ölvir spoke to the wealth-ground,
brine-cold from the wave:
"I did not know that the beautiful woman
had been before in the world."
"You carry the saxi now, prince —
set with red gold;
in the hall I gave you the hilt-aid —
you lacked the death of Hrauðnir.
"I said I was called Hufa then —
I shall clear the helmet-breaker;
the prince could see the beauty —
I am now better than I promised."
Ölvir looked at the leek-Rist
freed from all worry;
a beautiful wound-rist appeared —
the shield shining on her bright face.
She and Hjálmþér spoke, ring-wand —
I want to tell men that;
the welling-oak was beautiful and wise —
then little was amiss.
The Backstory
The woman spoke to the crown-helm's guest
and fastened the bright ring:
"I saw before the shield's lack,
then the struggle was locked about the heart."
The lord answered the fine woman,
most precious was the bright one:
"I do not recall that the ring-linden
I could see before."
"You brought the bright brand to us —
the ring-destroyer, the gentle one;
then the king's son gave me a kiss —
I was chosen from the strife."
Hjálmþér spoke to the white linden,
the whale-mist of the bright one;
he fastened love to the fallen Rindr
quickly then in the heart.
"My father ruled here, rich in land,
wise and golden from riches;
there is nowhere found the next like him —
no prince before in the world.
"The lord had a precious woman —
I want to tell warriors that;
the prince got three children for himself
with the mild twin-Rist.
"The lady lost her life with virtue —
warriors made the mound;
then one such a wondrous woman came
who knew how to work treachery.
"She was able to enchant the prince first —
he went to own a monster;
the Niflung-born was well deprived —
trouble is told of that.
"A deceitful woman laid on me
loathsome sorrow and weariness;
she robbed happiness from yourself
and both my siblings too.
"Úlfrekr she robbed of the serpent-ground
and all his realm;
thanes found the thorn-tree
in a thrall's evil shape.
"The foul words she gave against you —
the monster of the mountain-halls;
she herself got for warriors' murder
the true shame of men.
"The evil one always performed sacrifice —
she had mountain-strongholds;
the evil woman always made alone
to increase our sorrows.
"The king began to have those grips then —
champions found nothing better;
no nobler could anyone find
under the seat of clouds.
"I call that the first thing — the bright sword —
prince, you bear it in hand;
the prince delivered the blood-reward
then when the wound-serpent was felt.
"There was the saxi and Víðrir's land —
said of dwarf-craft;
Ölvir bears that wound-harm
and Aurnir came to the strife.
"Then Ulfar came most boldly
to hold the wealth-meeting;
warriors had weapon-work —
the wise one had to pay for it.
"So was the spear-psalm driven hard,
it rang in Fjölnir's land;
the thick helmet could barely endure
the heavy blows from the brand.
"Then the prince fell dead —
deep wounds burned;
Fenja's flood ran in torrents
forward from the wounds widely.
"Maidens got a powerful sorrow
from the great flood of blades;
the blow began to tear the skull-fort —
the field was hidden in blood.
"The bit-horse in the point-storm
bit about the legs of men;
it was so dark in the slaughter then
that one could barely tell.
"We came there forward to the core
where the champions lay dead;
then wounds sang in steel-clamor —
red streams flowed.
"The prince bears there full proof:
I got the bright brand;
from the lord I got the softest reward
for the worthy shield-wader.
"Hufa found there the hilt-serpent
that can cut helmets;
Hörðr got in the altar-storm
the strong beautiful shield.
"I can barely tell our sorrow
to men explained in short:
that here to go into the mind's earth
the wiry words from memory."
Now I have blended Boðnar's wine
with the bright ring-Hildr;
my learning is completely spent —
I fell into the Ása's banquet.
Ríma XI
Mansöngr
Gladly I would please the happy woman
and gladden the rich swan;
light folk now with songs —
arts of men of old.
Marriages Arranged
Úlfrekr gave his sister in marriage
to the son of Eirekr's kin;
Álfsól was that wealth-Lín named
who surpasses every woman.
Úlfrekr got himself earnest sorrow
deeply in the land of memory;
harm came to him into the mind's stronghold
from the hot bond of love.
The king would get no gladness —
joy is least of all riches;
he told no one of his longing —
the riches-tree in the world.
Hjálmþér lays onto the ring-linden
hot love and strong;
the precious one does nothing for the ring-Rindr
with the lord's words.
The thane got strife from this —
even so it was quiet to stand;
always was the sweet one seldom kind
toward him, the shifted trouble-lands.
One day when the lord went
to find the fine woman,
the least was recalled of the sweet one he got —
I want to tell men that.
"Hear me, beautiful ring-Ná —
I have need of this:
do not hold before my swelling longing —
but let me sleep on your arm."
"Hervor is your noble woman,"
said the noble Hlaðsól;
"that will suit very badly
for a wiser ring-face.
"Do you want to have both brides,
brand-reddener, the gentle one?
let us fight with grimness together —
that gladdens the folk not.
"Prince, hear, you who are forward and sound —
if I bind delight to you,
it is greatly beyond your power, prince,
to stop our nature."
Asked of this speech-Hlín
the bringer of the ground of linden:
"What is the trouble of your brother —
the ring-Lofn, the wise one?"
The bride answered the ring-enjoyer,
kind with the prince-warrior:
"You can make that remedy —
gentle other than anyone.
"Úlfrekr was," said the wealth-Rist,
"young in Hundingr's realm —
raised up with honor and skill —
Fáfnir's adornment bestowed.
"A more precious ring-ground loved him —
the lord's son with kindness;
[he] laid love to the leaf-Þundr,
the lord's born fair.
"He longs for the precious thorn-Rist —
for her he loved before;
for that the king loses skill
and trusty wisdom-words.
"If you give the spear-tree away in marriage —
the gladdened fair wand —
then will the load of leaves lighten
the ugly sorrow-cry."
The king answered the gold-Bil,
that lord of the serpent-load:
"I shall win all in the world
so that the wise one finds comfort.
"My longing never settles —
strife swells about the heart —
unless I find your love,
bright wealth-Gefn."
The brightest answered the ring-load,
kind was that wand-wave:
"By my brother's best counsel —
the prince shall have me."
"Sit well, wise woman —
be glad about the heart;
I shall offer the lord now
the bright wealth-wand."
Hjálmþér went to the hall quickly
to find the marked prince;
all of the lord's troop followed —
the wealth-emptier of Fenja.
Hjálmþér stood before the steel-shaker
and greeted the rich king:
"Why has the lord lost delight —
the one who gladdened men before?"
"Never goes from my breast the trouble,"
said the prince, the beautiful one;
"therefore my heart is from a hard torment
struck hot with strife.
"I see my bound trouble-rein
bound with hard sorrow-string;
therefore no sword-Freyr
can win me aid."
Hjálmþér answered the young one now —
the ring-fair:
"Someone plotted to make you, wealthy one,
enter into strife.
"I believe most that you grieve
for the ring-Gefn the kind;
I want to offer the lord now
the beautiful ring-woman."
"I want to refuse nothing, nail-Ræsir,"
spoke the Niflung, the mild;
"I cannot give fair reward
to the leaf-tree as is fitting."
"Prince, take here the fair ships,
land and weapons with dignity;
the prince's rank and true honor —
Svefnir's down and folk."
"Wisely go I to your sister —
the riches-tree, to own;
then I am repaid for the ring-Lín —
kind is that wand-wave."
The famous one answered the dart-breaker:
"There I shall never speak against,
if the mighty one wants to settle that."
The Voyage Home
Warriors went to the bower quickly
to find the bright lady;
all of the prince's troop rejoiced —
the wise Lofn.
Úlfrekr called to his sister,
the wise ring-Gefn:
"Do you want to marry the spear-tree —
the gold-adorned dart-steer?"
The wise spoke, the silk-bride —
warriors put that in memory:
the hall-land bid the lord now
to decide her marriage himself.
The lord betrothed the wealth-Gná,
and Úlfrekr speaks to the warrior:
"Let us drive ships forward onto the sea
and delay not long.
"Let us carry through Glamma-bay
the gilded serpent-brands;
seek the fair fallen bay
and bring her home to land."
Champions leaped onto gilded ships,
mounted with hard steel;
the dragon-ships ran the draught-road
and driven by the Jötunn-language.
One ship among all of them —
Úlfrekr had to steer it;
all from planks it was packed
with Þjassi's precious sound.
The prows were so great
that they stood near the sky;
to folk it seemed to gleam on the sea
as if burning lightning went.
The ropes were very strong,
poured with red gold;
and the sail was with silk fixed,
set with full dignity.
The sides were adorned with ornament
of burning gold widely;
no dragon can on the draught-plain
slide better with a warrior.
Warriors held to the dove-ground
with the precious ship-stems;
they furled the sail on the flying hound —
ships float in harbor.
Immediately when Hjálmþér's guard saw
that he was come to land,
the shield-lord's troop rushed to the ships
with dark helm and brand.
Hervor let with the wave-mist
hide the honored wagons;
she steered herself to the strand then —
the seated one was proud.
The king greets the courtly woman
and all of the champions' folk;
three women had to meet together —
fair was their dignity.
Nowhere were found fairer three —
even should one seek far wider;
they flowed down over lily-hair —
lit with trouble-sweat.
Hjálmþér told Hervor now
that she shall have Úlfrekr;
the white woman gladdens well —
Hildr cuts the kinsman's grief.
The Triple Wedding
"I know it beforehand that I would not
refuse the lord's love;
it ill suits to say no —
to give him honors fitting."
A proud hall was richly built —
the prince prepared to hold it;
nothing could surpass it
of what a man's nature can give.
Each then got as fits a woman —
the land-harm-thrower;
the feast shall stand proud
for four beautiful weeks.
Hjálmþér wound the ring-board
with white ring-loads;
that was Úlfrekr's rich sister —
honor with wisdom-counsel.
Úlfrekr found a splendid woman
to span with white serpents;
Hundingr's daughter, bold and red —
praised that lord.
An arts-man sailed home to land
with a fair lily-sail;
he gave warriors the draught-mist
and the kind wand-plain.
Now are they all free of troubles
and enjoy gold and lands;
Víðrir's beer in the wisdom hall
shall soon be standing.
The strong Áss and the earth's bone
toppled the slopes of Ofni;
he has ruled that wither-branch,
and worked the verse to completion.
If you all recount them at once —
the times shall always delay —
five and two as four again —
wondrous how quickly to count.
Here I shall turn from the pale foals
of the old eagle's clay;
each grasp who desires —
I make them no more ever.
Colophon
Hjálmþérsrímur — The Rímur of Hjálmþér. Complete in eleven rímur. Composed in the fifteenth century. Preserved in AM 604 c, 4° (with a fragment in AM 603, 4°). The rímur follow an older and more coherent version of the saga than the extant prose Hjálmþérs saga ok Ölvis (Fas. III 453–518). The "alien" mansöngr (stanzas 1–35 of the manuscript's Ríma I) belongs to a different cycle and was retained by the editor for manuscript fidelity. Ríma VI is in three-line stanzas throughout; all other rímur are in four-line stanzas. The poet names himself Þórsteinn in stanza XI.55. Several stanzas contain damaged or corrupt readings (noted in Jónsson's apparatus) and are translated as best the text permits.
Source text: Rímnasafn: Samling af de ældste islandske Rimer, vol. 2, ed. Finnur Jónsson (Copenhagen: Samfund til Udgivelse af gammel nordisk Litteratur, 1922), pp. 1–80. Public domain.
Translated from Old/Middle Icelandic by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, with scribal work by the Rímur Tulku lineage, 2026. The rímur dictionary Orðbog til rímur (Finnur Jónsson) was consulted for archaic vocabulary and kenning components. Rímur I–VI translated in sessions of March 2026; Rímur VII–XI completed March 2026.
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Source Text
The complete Old/Middle Icelandic source text for all eleven rímur is preserved in the extracted file at Tulku/rimur-tools/vol2_source/01_hjalmthersrimur.txt, drawn from the digitized Rímnasafn Vol. 2 (Google Books, public domain).
Source Colophon
From Rímnasafn: Samling af de ældste islandske Rimer, Bind 2, ed. Finnur Jónsson (Copenhagen: S. L. Møllers og J. Jørgensen & Co.s Bogtrykkeri, 1922), pp. 1–84. Manuscript: AM 604 c, 4° (with fragment AM 603, 4°). Published by Samfund til Udgivelse af gammel nordisk Litteratur, XXXV.
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