CANTO III.

THOR IN HELHEIM.

The story you’re about to hear May well incredible appear: To visit the remotest end Of Utgard’s realm the chiefs pretend: Not easy will this project prove Through wastes of endless frost and snow; At each third step they onward move O’er the glazed frost, they fall back two.

The road, on which their course they bent, Now form’d a deep and dark descent: They grope along through ice and snow, And though pitch dark, they hear cocks crow. Thor ever foremost marches on; The others follow the faint light That from his brazen armour shone, And shudder oft from cold and fright.

Through caverns drear they move on slow, Which seem to lengthen as they go; Pale shadows flit along; they hear The rustling sound of waters near: Now toads croak harsh, and owlets screech; Now fogs arise, and vapours damp; But Thor, intent his goal to reach, Struggles across the frozen swamp.

At length the gloomy fogs of night Became dispell’d by sudden light; Though faint, it fail’d not to impart Fresh vigour to the Asa’s heart. Two torches burning blue anon A lurid flick’ring gleam display; While through the cloven rock the moon Sends forth a pale and wizard ray.

At length a massive gate they reach: Two grisly fantoms there kept watch: One seem’d a female, one a male; Their furrow’d cheeks were deadly pale. Lo! slowly rising from their seat, They fix the chiefs with earnest gaze; These halt before the pond’rous gate, And view those forms in mute amaze.

In shrouds of white the spectres grim, While ague shakes each gelid limb, Brandish aloft with angry groan Their javelins form’d of human bone. As Thor advanc’d, their shields they clash, And croak aloud these words of fear: “Go back! go back! ye strangers rash! Whence do ye come! what seek ye here?

“Why seek ye in the pride and bloom Of health and youth these realms of gloom? Never did such a troop before Find entrance to this fated shore. For those who meanly die on straw, The Nornor have these shades decreed; But not for those, who Odin’s law Hold sacred, and in battle bleed.

“Ye may not tread this threshold fell, Bound fast by adamantine spell: ’Tis here a pale-blue female reigns, Here stern her fearful law maintains: Here captive holds the dastard crew, Who on the bed of sickness die, Who wounds and glorious death eschew, And basely from the combat fly.”

Then Thor: “We’ve reach’d th’ abode, I ween, Of Hela, unforgiving queen; O Lok! we now shall soon behold Thy pale-blue daughter stern and cold.” Then Lok grew pale, and trembling said: “Let us return! I bitter rue My grievous fault: O! how I dread My frightful offspring’s face to view!”

Then Thor replied with look severe: “A God should never yield to fear; Shame! resolution thus to lack! Rouse all thy nerve, and shrink not back! A giantess[24] thy heart subdued, And thou to passion didst succumb, Too well I know, that nothing good Can from the blood of giants come.

“’Twas Skulda in her book of fate Did this event predestinate; If she decreed thy amorous flame, Who shall that prudent Norna blame? Thy offspring causes fear, ’tis true, But never can contempt excite; Not only men, but Asar too, All view her features with affright.

“Where joy and pleasure flourish most And nurs’d by strength their empire boast, Yet still, at the bare sight of fear Those blessings straight will disappear; Thus Fenris can embitter all The glories of Valhalla’s feast; His very look hath power t’appal, And freeze with dread great Odin’s breast.

“And say! how should our Asgard then Differ from the abode of men, Did not death, misery and disgrace A line of demarcation trace? Like Midgard’s snake,[25] misfortune fell Winds round, and gnaws the heart of earth; And he too, Lok, thou know’st full well, From thy embrace derived his birth.

“Yet, O thou Asa dear! ’tis well Thou hast engender’d the grim Hel! Due honour she should ever find; She punishes the Nidding kind, She my avenger is; ’tis she Who best upholds my law and right; Take courage, therefore! learn from me Never to think of craven flight!”

This sage discourse now caus’d the fear Of Asa Lok to disappear; To him much consolation gave The prudence of his comrade brave. Thor rais’d his lance; the portal vast He struck with force; it swung around, Like leaf before th’ autumnal blast; The hinges creak’d with jarring sound.

Now Thor his champions onward led, The vault re-echo’d with their tread; Now little Roska ’gan to cower, And closely grasp’d the hand of Thor. Through many a winding gall’ry past, They stumble on, or creep, or glide, Until a flick’ring flame at last Serves their ambiguous path to guide.

At length an opening towards the north They find, and ’gainst it struggle forth; To where the roof describes an arch, And forms a vestibule, they march; This vestibule to a vast hall Conducts them, where they now behold The wretches deaf to honour’s call, Whom Helheim’s bars imprison’d hold.

Along the wall pale phantoms flit, Who groan and shake with aguish fit! Palsies, catarrhs, and fevers grim Prey on each agonizing limb. When Thor advanc’d, they wept and whined; Down their wan cheek a cold sweat flows! While slimy snakes, around them twined, Cause by their bite convulsive throes!

Under the vaulted roof, behold! A throne appears, but not of gold, Silver, or ivory; this throne Was built of human sculls alone! Thereon sat Hela, fell to view; Her skin a chalky hue reveal’d, Down from the girdle; livid blue Above it seem’d from blood congeal’d!

A man’s thigh-bone in moonshine bleach’d T’ enforce new torments she outstretch’d, For never her vindictive mind Allows to rest the Nidding kind: This bone exhal’d a corpse-like smell; On high she waved it like a wand; It made all crouch; it serv’d full well As sceptre in her clammy hand.

No sound, but moans to make flesh creep, Here interrupts the silence deep; No zephyrs thaw the frost severe;[26] Cadav’rous odours taint the air; Three torches blue illum’d the scene! By each a ghastly spectre stood! Shapes frightfully diseased were seen, But on their limbs no trace of blood!

Now Thor began to smile; exempt From fear himself, he with contempt The crowd of trembling ghosts beheld, And loud this stern discourse he held: “O wretched fools! why did ye shun The dangers of all-glorious war? Thus may it fare with every one Who dares not follow Asa-Thor!

“Ye miserable, who eschew’d Danger and death and scenes of blood! Weaker than women! Hela now Grinds ye with never-ending woe; Ye fear’d to don the warrior’s helm, And trembled at the bowstring’s twang; Well, now, in Hel’s accursed realm, Ye tremble with eternal pang!”

Thus Thor: the ghosts respond with moan: The chief advanc’d to Hela’s throne, And though thick fogs his utt’rance choke, He still, though hoarse, thus suppliant spoke: “Hela, terrific queen! whose eye Fills every living breast with fear, Ah! not spontaneously do I Before thy awful throne appear.

“I cannot the desire withstand To visit Lok of Utgard’s land; I long that chieftain to behold, And therefore here have travell’d bold. Then, O! resolve me, Hela true, For well thou know’st each distant clime, Where must I turn? what course pursue, To reach the realm of Jotunheim?”

Then Hela croak’d out thus with force, From throat with fogs and vapour hoarse: “Begone from hence! depart! away! Ye’ll soon arrive where giants sway; The rosy hues that stain your cheek My eye-balls sear to look upon; Of health, and youth, and strength they speak; Such sights I loathe: avaunt! begone!”

Now Thor a sign impatient made Behind him, which his troop obey’d. Lok ventur’d not to raise his eye, As he stern Hela’s throne past by; He closed his eyes her sight to shun, And stumbled heavily along: She look’d at him and breath’d a groan, Which echoed far the rocks among.

I will not hide the fact that Thor, However firm and brave in war, Seem’d anxious much and was not slow To quit those gloomy realms of woe. They march into the mountain’s core, And issuing from the farthest rock, They soon arrive, and stand before The palace vast of Utgard-Lok.