The Greenlandish Lay of Atli
Atlamál hin grœnlenzku

In a number of ways the poem under consideration answers to the designation of “The Greenlandish Lay of Atli” given it in the Codex Regius. It has proved hazardous to infer the home of an Eddic poem from the mention of certain plants or animals in it, or from supposed allusions to local conditions. Yet here, for once, we seem to have firm ground under our feet. We may be reasonably sure that Kostbera’s dream of a white (Polar) bear, and its interpretation by Hogni as a fierce eastern gale, point to a far Northern home, the Greenland settlements established by Norwegians and Icelanders in the eleventh century. The remoteness would also account for the crass ignorance shown of north European geography. Again, the conditions as described in the lay are small, even mean. The innumerable hordes of Atli have here shrunk to thirty henchmen, and Gunnar disposes over only ten housecarls. Still further, the general tone corresponds. The splendid heroes have become small farmers. In the course of their undignified scolding match Guthrún reproaches Atli for never having held his own at the assembly, whereas he reminds her that their barns always were well-stocked and there had been plenty of good things. The boorish buffoonery with Hjalli—good of its kind—takes up a disproportionate amount of space and breaks into the tragedy of the heroes’ deaths.

Over the whole there hangs a grey pall of Northern gloom which we may well believe was the mental atmosphere of those ill-fated settlements. Even the language is provincial, commonplace, prosaic; and the invariable, painfully regular feminine ending of the ungainly half-lines suggests that the author slavishly adhered to a model which, in the hands of the “Atlakviða” poet, shows itself not unadapted to a certain stateliness. We shall not go far wrong in assigning the “Atlamál” to an eleventh- or twelfth-century poet. This again tallies well with the half-Christian, half-heathen expressions toward the end, and also with the numerous indications that its legendary form is decidedly younger than that of the “Atlakviða” which, in fact, was hardly known to the author.1 Certain verbal and factual similarities, however, point to an acquaintance with “The Lay of Vǫlund.”

It would serve no useful purpose to point out in detail the shortcomings of the “Atlamál”—its repetitiousness, its lachrymose tone, its lack of breeding, its general air of “a sad tale done into song.” For all that, the lay has its own peculiar place in Old Norse literature precisely in thus affording a valuable foil and contrast to the noble “Atlakviða.”

1. Heard have full many      how that men2 had gathered

for counsel together—      of which gain had the fewest:

how that wiles they weaved then      of which woe came, only,

to them and the Gjúkungs      who beguiled were by them.

2. The folk-warders’ fate grew:3      fey were the heroes.

Unwise was Atli,      his insight failed him:

threw his strong stays down,4      into straights brought himself:

sent them word swiftly      to seek him nor tarry.

3. Wise was the lady,      had her wits about her,

full well understood she      what in stealth they whispered;

a hardship she held it:      would fain help give them:

on sea went they sailing,      but herself not with them.5

4. Runes had she graven;      had ravelled6 them Vingi—

on their bane bent was he—      ere to the brothers he gave them;

to the firth of Lim7 fared, then,      afar whom Atli

had sent to the Gjúkungs,      Guthrún’s stout kinsmen.

5. Fires they lit for them,      and as friends welcomed

from afar who had come there,      nor of falsehood bethought them;

the king’s gifts took they gladly,      which the guests brought with them,

hung them up on the wallposts,8      nor aught mistrusted.

6. Came then Kostbera,9      the queen of Hogni,

a woman warmhearted,      and welcomed the strangers;

glad was eke Glaumvor,      whom Gunnar had married,

fulfilled what was fitting      to refresh guests weary.

7. They bade home to them Hogni,      if with him they fared, rather:

nor was hidden the falsehood,      if heed they had given.10

His word gave Gunnar      if with him fared Hogni,

and fain was Hogni      to follow his brother.

8. Bore mead the mistresses,      of meat was there plenty,

many full horns were handed,      till his fill had everyone.

(Then up rose the sea kings      and to sleep betook them,)11

husband and wife eke,      as the wise ones held seemly.

9. Clever was Kostbera,      had cunning of rune signs;12

she conned o’er the letters      by the light of the fire;

tied was her tongue, though,      when she tried to read them:

so muddled were they      she could make them out nowise.

10. To bed went both then,      Bera13 and Hogni;

(but little slumbered      the lady highborn,)14

nor hid she from Hogni      what she had been dreaming,

but said to the sea king      so soon as she wakened:

11. “From hence would’st, Hogni,      but heed thou my counsel—

but few are rune-wise—      fare thou some other time!

The rune signs I have guessed now,      graven by thy sister:

has the white-browed one      not bidden thee to her.

12. “At one thing I wonder,      nor can well make out:

why ravelled the runes are      which were written by Guthrún;

for so seemed to me      their secret meaning

that your bane it would be if      Atli’s bidding ye follow:

one rune she wanteth,      or ’tis the work of another.”15

(Hogni said:)

13. “Idle fears have women,      which are far from my thinking;

bad deeds I reck not      till back we must pay them.16

The good king will give us      many glow-red armrings,

no dread had I ever,      dire things though boded.”

(Kostbera said:)

14. “Will be ill the ending      if ye are eager thitherward:

a friendly welcome      awaits you not this time.

Hear my dreams, Hogni,      hide them I will not:

some ill will befall you,      I fear me greatly.

15. “Thy bedclothes saw I      burning in fire,

the high flames whelming      through our hall swept roaring.”

(Hogni said:)

“Linens may lie here      which little thou prizest—

they will blaze suddenly,      as my bedclothes seemed.”17

(Kostbera said:)

16. “A bear saw I come in here,      he broke up the planking

and shook his paws at us,      so that shelter we sought from him;

with his muzzle he caught many,      but our might had left us:

there was trampling18 ’neath rafters,      truly not a little.”

(Hogni said:)

17. “There’ll be wild weather,      with windstorms dreadful:

the white bear thou sawest      eastern blasts betokens.

(Kostbera said:)

18. “An eagle beheld I      through our hall flying—

bad tidings bodes that—      which with blood us sprinkled

(from his gory pinions,      ere out of gable-end flying):19

in evil seeming      like Atli looked he.”

(Hogni said:)

19. “Full soon we shall slaughter,      and shall see much blood, then:

often for oxen      of eagles one dreameth.20

No harm means us Atli,      what’er thou dreamest.”

Then more they said not      nor their mouths again opened.

20. Awoke the well-born ones,21      were their words of like things:

aghast was Glaumvor      with grievous dream-sights,

but gainsaid her Gunnar      with more goodly meaning.22

(Glaumvor said:)

21. “A gallows saw I threat’ning,      for thee to hang on,

and worms thee becrawling,      unwounded otherwise—23

came the doom of all godheads:      what deem’st thou it meaneth?24

22. “A bloody sword saw I      out of thy sark taken—

for a husband’s hearing      unhappy dreams these.

A spear eke thought I      thrust through thy middle,

with hungry wolves howling      at haft and spearhead.”

(Gunnar said:)

23. “Small dogs will be running      with din and barking;

oft the hounds’ baying      bodes whistling of spearshafts.”

(Glaumvor said:)

24. “A stream beheld I      through our hall flowing;

the roaring river      rushed ’gainst our benches,

breaking the legs of      you brothers, Gunnar:

naught spared the waters.      That forewarneth evil!”

(Gunnar said:)

(“Acres waving ween I      what water thou thoughtest,

our feet oft stumble      o’er the fields as we wander.”)25

(Glaumvor said:)

25. “Methought in the darkness      came dead women hitherward,

clad in weeds of mourning,26      and wished to fetch thee,

beckoned and bade thee      to their benches forthwith:

I fear that the goddesses27      have given thee over.”

(Gunnar said:)

26. “Too late is’t to stay us:      our lot is cast now.

(I dread me hereafter      that dire will our fate be):28

our fate we may flee not,29      we shall fare on the morrow,

though likely it seemeth      that our life be a short one.”

27. When the dawn lighted heaven      the heroes were ready

on their way to be wending;      but with warnings some held them.

Five, all told, fared they,      though fewer by half this

than they had housecarls:      ’twas hot-brained and thoughtless.

28. Snævar and Sólar,30      sons they of Hogni;

was eke one hight Orkning      who to Atli them followed,

Kostbera’s brother—      blithe was the shield-tree.31

Fair-Dight fared with them,      to where the firth them parted,

the women ay warning,      but they would not heed them.

29. Spake Glaumvor these words then,      who was Gunnar’s housewife,

to Vingi spake she      as well it seemed to her:

“Reward ye fittingly      the feastings we gave you:

were a foul shame your coming      if befalls them ill hap.”

30. Answered her Vingi,      nor would aught acknowledge:32

“May the etins seize him33      in aught who betrays you,

and the gallows his body,      who his faith breaketh.”

31. Spake Bera these words then,      blithe in her heart she:

“May ye sail safely      and snatch victory.34

Godspeed I wish you,      let no wight gainsay it!”

32. Hogni made answer,      his own kin loved he:

“Be of good cheer, ladies,      whatever grief befall us;

a kind fate bespeak many,      yet miss it oft greatly:

the wishes that go with him      many a wight avail little.”

33. They looked at their lief ones      and lingered ere parting,

their weirds awaited them      as their ways led asunder.

34. Amain they gan row,35 then,      to rift the keel almost,

on the oars bent them      backward wrathfully;

the oar-thongs they sundered,      the tholes they shattered,

their flood-horse36 they fastened not37      when from it they wended.

35. Nor long it lasted—      I lag not in telling—

ere they saw the buildings      which Buthli38 had dwelt in;

harshly the gate grated      when Gjúki’s son struck it.

These words said then Vingi,      more wisely unspoken:

36. “Fare ye from hence—      ’tis fraught with death to you;

full soon shall they slay you      and swiftly burn you:

with fair words I bade you,      but falsehood dwelt in them—

or else wait outside      till up is the gallows.”

37. Then Hogni spake forth,      not to spare him thought he,

nor of aught was fearful,      whatever betide them:

“Think not of threat’ning,      a thankless task were it:

not one more word or      ’twill be worse for thee after.”

38. They hewed down Vingi,      and to Hel sent him,

with axes gashed him      till his ghost he breathed out.

39. Atli’s men foregathered,      and in mail coats arrayed them;

thus went they forward      till the wall lay between them.39

Each host angrily      to the other cried out:

“Full long had we settled      to slay all of you.”

(Hogni said:)

40. “It seems but little      that settled ye had it:

still unready are ye,      though without here lieth

one of your henchmen,      Helward sent by us.”

41. Hot with wrath waxed they      when these words reached them,

bestirred their fingers      in stringing their bows then,

with arrows shot sharply      and behind shields hid them.

42. In came the tidings      that without were struggling,

before the hall the heroes—      they heard a thrall tell it;

dreadful was Guthrún      at these dire tidings,

the necklace-decked one:      down threw she everything,

slung down the silver,      that asunder the rings40 brake.

43. Out went she eftsoon,      wide open the doors flung,

nor fearful was she,      to welcome her kinsmen;

to the Gjúkungs she turned her—      their last greeting was it—

her mind she spoke truthfully,      and eke more thuswise:

44. “I had sought to save you,      to forsake not your homestead:

’gainst the norns wins no one:      hither nathless came ye!”

Many sage words said she,      to settle between them;

but naught would they listen,      and “no” said all of them.

45. Beheld the highborn one      how they did struggle,

then took courage unwomanish,      her cloak she flung off,

a keen sword she caught up      and her kinsmen defended:

nor light were the blows which      she lavished on foemen.

46. Felled Gjúki’s daughter      to the ground two warriors:

Atli’s brother her blade smote—      they must bear him away thence—

so fiercely fought she      that his foot she sundered;

and another struck she      that he stood not up after,

but to Hel hied him;      yet her hands shook not.

47. A fight they fought there      which was famed widely,

than any deed greater      which the Gjúkungs had done else.

’Tis told that, as long as      alive were the Gjúkungs,

they made a sword fight,      slit through the byrnies,

and hewed the helmets,      as their hearts bade them.

48. All morning fought they,      till midday was over,

at dusk and at dawn eke,      and the day following.

With blood flowed the battlefield      ere the brush was ended:

ere they fell, over eighteen      the upper hand had then

the two bairns of Bera,41      and her brother with them.

49. Angrily eying them,      Atli spake forth thus:

“’Tis an ill sight to look at,      I lay it at your door:

before, we told thirty,      thanes of the doughtiest—

but eleven live now:      great loss I hold it.

50. “We were five brothers      when Buthli died from us.

In Hel dwell now half of them,      two hacked by your sword lie;

great are ye Gjúkungs—      gainsay I cannot—

and a grim wife is Guthrún,      of whom good had I never.

51. “Were we happy seldom      to my hands since thou camest:

hast killed my kindred,      of my coffers robbed me,

and to Hel sent my sister:42      that my heaviest sorrow.”

(Guthrún said:)

52. “Dost hint that, Atli?      And what of thy deeds?

Thou took’st my mother      and didst murder her for gold rings,

and my keen-thoughted sister      didst in cave to death starve.43

I laugh to hear thee      rehearse the wrongs done thee,

and thank the gods that      have given thee sorrow.”

(Atli said:)

53. “Ye earls, I urge you      to the utmost to heighten

the woes of this woman:      fain would I behold it;

and get ye goodly      Guthrún to whimper;

my heart it would gladden      unhappy to see her.

54. “Seize ye bold Hogni      and slit him with knife-edge,

cut the hero’s heart out:      hold yourselves ready;

and stouthearted Gunnar      on the gallows fasten;

see that ye do this;      to the snake den then with him!”44

(Hogni said:)

55. “Do thy worst and forbear not,      I abide it gladly:

thou shalt find me steadfast,      I have stood much ere this.

A whaling we gave you      the while hale we Gjúkungs:

now we are wounded and weary      thy way thou mayst have.”

56. Up then spake Beiti—      he was Atli’s steward:

“Let us spare Hogni,      and Hjalli slaughter,

the foolish fellow,45      he is fey for a long time;

too long now liveth      that lout, good for nothing.”

57. Scared was the scullion      and scampered away fast,

crept in all corners,      cackling with terror;

’twas a sore plight, quoth he,      to pay for their warfare,

to end his days dolefully      and die from his swinery,

from the fat fare which      before he had eaten.

58. On Buthli’s baster      they brandished the knife then:

cried out the coward—      ere the cold edge he felt e’en—

he would do it this day yet,      he would dung the meadow,

nor shun any drudgery,      if from death they would spare him:

happy were Hjalli      if he had but his life left.

59. Pleaded then Hogni—      as had done the fewest—

the thrall to unfetter      that thence he might hie him:

’For us it were easier      this ill game to play with you;46

why should we here wish      to hear that yelping?”

60. They laid hands on Hogni then;      hard was it for them

the life to lengthen      of the lordly hero.47

Laughed then Hogni—      heard it all warriors—

steadfastly bore it,      well stood he the torture.

61. His harp took Gunnar,48      the strings grasped with his foottwigs;49

wept all the women,      so well could he play it,

men burst into tears eke      who could best hear him;

of his wrongs he told her:50      burst the rafters asunder.51

62. Then died the doughty ones:      was the day still young then.

To the last lived in them      their lofty manhood.

63. Great thought him Atli:      both Gjúkungs had he slain now,

told her loss to the lady,      with no little taunting:

“’Tis morning now, Guthrún;      no more are thy dear ones;

to thyself in somewhat      thy sorrow thy owest.”

(Guthrún said:)

64. “Right merry art, Atli,      of the murdered to tell me;

but thou’lt rue thy rash deed      when wrought is all of it.52

This left they after them,      and I let thee know it:

ill hap will haunt thee      the while I live, too.”

(Atli said:)

65. “In naught I believe this:      another way see I,53

by far more fitting—      oft we fail to take such—

with gifts and girl-slaves      I shall gladden, wife, thee,

and with snow-white silver,      as yourself will have it.”

(Guthrún said:)

66. “Thy hope is hollow:      I’ll have none of these:

my wrath I wreaked oft      for wrongs that were lesser;

wilful they weened me,      but worse I shall be now,

yet had I forborne it      if Hogni lived still.

67. “In one hall we both were      brought up together,

in the grove we grew up      and gambolled playfully;

Queen Grímhild gave us      gold rings and necklaces:

no amends canst make e’er      for my murdered brothers,

nor by aught work it      that e’er I forgive thee.

68. “Woman’s lot is worsened      ay by warriors’ recklessness:

the oak’s strength is stunted      when stripped are its branches,

the tree will topple      when torn are its rootlets:

in all mayst now, Atli,      thy own will follow.”54

69. The lord too lightly      believed her and trusted,

nor was hidden the falsehood      if heed he had given;

crafty was Guthrún,      well could she shuffle,

twain shields showed she him55      and shammed cheerfulness.

70. Great arvel made she      after her brothers,

and after his own dead      did Atli likewise.

No more they said, then;      the mead was ready,

was the goodly gathering      made with great feasting.

71. Hardhearted, hoped she      to harm his kin greatly,

most fearful vengeance      she vowed on her husband:

she lured her little ones,      laid them ’gainst bedpost.

The wild ones were frightened      yet wept not nor whimpered,

sought the arms of their mother      and asked what she wanted.

(Guthrún said:)

72. “Ye had better not ask me:      you both I shall slaughter,

was I eager ever      of old age to heal you.”

(The boys said:)

“To make away with us      no wight can hinder thee:

thy wrath will be sated      when ’tis wrought altogether.”56

73. Unbending, she blotted out      the brothers in their childhood,

their heads she hewed off—      for her ’twas unseemly.

Where the boys were playing,      asked Buthli’s son then,

his small sons twain,      as he saw them nowhere.

(Guthrún said:)

74. 57“I dare to tell now      the tidings to Atli,

will Grímhild’s daughter      not disguise ought of it:

naught will it gladden thee,      once thou knowest it:

great sorrow didst summon      when thou slewest my brothers.

75. “But seldom slept I      ever since they have fallen.

Grim meed I foretold thee:      I mind thee now of it.

Of that morrow spakest thou—58      to mind I call it:

’tis evening turned now      and tidings I have for thee.

76. “Lost hast thou thy lief sons,      which should have last betide thee:

know that their brain-pans      as beakers thou usest;

the mead thou drinkest      was mixed with their heartblood.

77. “The hearts of the striplings      I steaked o’er the fire,

calf’s hearts I called them      when I carried them to thee.

Thou atest all up,      nor aught of it leftest,

didst chew greedily      with thy grinders working.

78. “But to few befalls worse:      their fate now knowest thou:

I brought it about, all;      yet boast I not of it.”

(Atli said:)

79. “Cruel wast thou, Guthrún,      that thou could’st do thuswise,

to brew beer for me      from the blood of my children.

Thou’st slain those nearest thee,      which thou never should’st have.

Naught but ill from thee      has befallen me ever.”

(Guthrún said:)

80. “In sooth, sweet were it      to slay thee also;

naught is enough for      so knavish a chieftain

for misdeeds dreadful      thou hast done ere this,

nameless, as never      were known the like of.

81. “Into greater guilt hast now,      and more ghastly, fallen

than e’er was heard of:      thy own arvel drankest now.”59

(Atli said:)

82. “On stake they should burn thee,      but stone thee beforehand:

then had’st gained what thou      e’er hankered after.”

(Guthrún said:)

“On the morrow early      be mindful of such things:

by a fairer death shall I      fare to the other light.”60

83. Thus sate they together,      filled with savage rancor,

words of hate they bandied,      but happy was neither.

Waxed Hniflung’s61 hatred,      of high deeds bethought him,

set forth to Guthrún      his grim hate of Atli.

84. To her mind she called then      how they murdered her brother.

Good hap she held it      if Hogni avenged were;

then laid low Atli,      nor lingered in doing it

Hniflung, Hogni’s son,      and highborn Guthrún.

85. Quoth the stouthearted one,      starting from sleep up—

from the wound well knew he      that it needed no binding:62

“Say ye in sooth now:      who slew King Atli?

Not lightly ye dealt with me:      my lifeblood is ebbing.”

(Guthrún said:)

86. “Will Grímhild’s daughter      not disguise ought of it:

’tis I who wrought it,      that ended thy life now,

and Hogni’s son eke,      that to Hel thou wendest.”

(Atli said:)

“Full swiftly thou slewest me,      unseemly the deed, though:

’tis ill to betray him      who trusts him as his bosom-friend.63

87. “Unwilling went I      to woo thee, Guthrún;

wast praised in thy widowhood,      and proud they called thee.

Nor was it falsehood:      all too well I found out.

From thy home thou cam’st hither,      a host of men following.

88. “A life most lordly      we led, my hall within:

dearth was there never      of noble athelings;

well-stocked were our stables      and in state lived we,

had great wealth of gold rings      which we gave to many.

89. “A great dowry I paid thee,      and adorned thee with jewels,

gave thee thralls thirty,      seven thrifty bondmaids—

were seeming such gifts—      and of silver a great store.

90. “Thou didst reck it nowise,      as though naught were all,

but didst long for the lands ay      left me by Buthli;

with wiles thou didst work it,      nor would’st have aught else.64

My mother madest thou      shed mournful tears oft;

were we, wife and husband,      unhappy ever after.”

(Guthrún said:)

91. “That liest thou, Atli,      though little I reck it.

I smiled on thee seldom:      wast thou swelled up o’ermuch;65

e’en as striplings ye struggled,      was strife ’mongst you brothers,

to Hel half of them      from thy hall wended:66

what good should have given thee,      to grief it turned all.

92. “Twain brothers had I,      headstrong they called us;

we fared from our folk-lands      and followed Sigurth;67

forth strode we stanchly,      steering his ship each one,

our fates we followed,      and fought our way eastward.

93. “We carved us a kingdom,      its king overthrew we;

fell at our feet then,      fearful, the barons;

him who fled his fellowmen      freed we from outlawry,

and mighty made him      without means who had been.

94. “Fell then the Hunnish king,68      my fate soon worsened;

keen was my sorrow      to be called widow;

but worse grief was it to me      to be given to Atli!

A hero once had me:      ill hap to lose him!

95. “From Thing camest never—      so that we heard thereof—

having pleaded pluckily,69      or o’erpowered thy foeman;

gavest in at all times,      thy own never holding,

but quietly yielded      (as a king should never).”70

(Atli said:)

96. “That liest thou, Guthrún;      but little it betters

the lot of either:      our lives are blasted.

Forget thou not, Guthrún,      nor grudge it to me,

as honor to both of us      that out I be borne well.”

(Guthrún said:)

97. “A sea-steed71 will I get thee,      and a stained coffin,72

a sheet will I wax well      to shroud thy body,

to all look that is needful,      as though we had loved each other.”

98. Lifeless sank Atli,      great loss felt his kinsmen;

carried out the lady      all she had pledged her to.

To the flood she fared then,      her fate to hasten;

but her days were lengthened,      she died another time.73

99. Happy is he who      hath him begotten

children as great as      Gjúki did foster:

in all lands will live ay      on the lips of everyone,

where’er men hear of it,      their hardy bearing.