CANTO V.

MAGIC SPELLS IN UTGARD.

Now at the festive board sat down The chiefs in social converse. Lok Arose, and thus in jesting tone The ever sprightly Asa spoke: “To pass the time, while here we sit, Let us some mirthful game devise, Some trial of our strength or wit, And prove who best deserves the prize.”

“To this proposal I agree,” To him thus Utgard-Lok replied; “And what the game or sport shall be, Let thy ingenious brain decide!” Then catching up some roasted meat, The Asa laughing cries: “’Tis well; Be this my first triumphant feat! In eating none can Lok excel.

“I find my appetite increase By what I have endured of late; By plenteous cheer ’twere not amiss, Methinks, my strength to renovate: Good trencher-men in troth we are, Of limbs robust and stomachs able: Go, therefore! bid the cook prepare, And set the viands on the table!”

“To what best suits thee I accede,” Still jesting, Utgard-Lok replies; “There can be nothing worse, indeed, Than hungry from the board to rise: Yet, my good friend! thou’lt soon perceive, However strong thy stomach be, In eating thou canst naught achieve ’Gainst one of my good company.”

This speech annoy’d Laufeia’s son; He jump’d up hastily, and said: “Thou whoreson fiend! thou evil one! Think’st thou my purpose to dissuade?” The swarthy chief made no reply, But call’d to one amidst his crew: “Come forth!” and lo! with fearful cry Starts forth a goblin[29] fell to view!

Obedient to his master’s call, Who now his zeal and service claims, He stalks across the spacious hall, In armour cover’d o’er with flames: The most were yellow; some were red; Some blue; anon with scornful look Towering above his rival’s head, He cast his eyes on Asa-Lok.

His widely gaping mouth reveals A double row of grinders long; At every finger, ’stead of nails, Were likewise teeth both sharp and strong: And strange to tell, each tooth displays On mouth or hand a pow’rful light. Young Roska view’d them with amaze, And shrunk back trembling with affright.

The shadows that obscured the rock All vanish’d at the goblin’s sight. “I do perceive,” said Asa-Lok, “Each of thy limbs hath power to bite: Yet trust me! though thou hast the power Each finger to employ as tooth, Thou’lt not be able to devour More food than Loptur with his mouth.”

Into the hall by Lok’s command A dish was brought of purest ore; ’Twas vast in size, and it contain’d Of joints of meat an ample store. The ugly fiend and Asa-Lok Set to and crunched with all their might; They eat, as though they both would choke: This caused much wonder and delight.

Each sat at one end of the dish, But in the middle soon they meet: Lok from the bones had clear’d the flesh; At length he could no longer eat. Not so the goblin; he devour’d The hard bones, golden dish, and all: He roll’d his eyes around the board, And for more viands fain would call.

Now loudly laugh’d the giant crew; E’en Thor the serious laugh’d outright: Young Tialfe grinn’d, and Roska too Was much diverted at the sight. The guests now sitting round the board, As arbiters pronounce the doom; They loud proclaim with one accord, That Asa-Lok was overcome.

Then Utgard-Lok in jesting mood Call’d out to Tialfe by his name: “Since we are cloy’d with drink and food, Let us arrange some other game! We practise here, the time to kill, Jokes and diversions not a few: Go thou, brave youth! and try thy skill! I fain would see what thou canst do.”

“What callst thou trying? do not boast Too much!” the ardent Tialf replied: “Though Asa-Lok the prize have lost, That cannot, sure, our worth decide. He gave me armour; and ye’ll find, Though ye can bones and dish devour Like dogs, that with undaunted mind I brave, and hope to quell your power.”

Then Utgard’s Chief with knitted brow Rejoin’d: “Twere bootless to contend On what is past and gone: do thou Propose some game, my youthful friend!” “Good!” answer’d Tialfe: “Be it so!” And strait his corslet ’gan t’ unlace. “An ye consent, I’m ready now With any of your train to race.”

Then thus the swarthy chief: “’Tis well; And such a sport, methinks, is meet: For when our arms in vigour fail, We find our safety in our feet. Come then! begin! trace out the course! Yet I suspect, thou’lt soon succumb, However great in speed thy force, When racing with my little Thumb.”[30]

Now Tialfe’s limbs with anger shook, He threw around a scornful glance; And view’d forth crawling from a nook A strange and dwarfish elf advance! Though little strength he seem’d to boast, Yet supple as a bow was he: A veil enveloping his bust His features none allow’d to see.

“I see his body swells or shrinks,” Quoth Tialf, “at pleasure ’fore the wind; In elasticity, methinks, He leaves all creatures far behind. Come, little hero! come along, And let us strait begin our course! Much need we, when the race is long, Not merely suppleness, but force.”

The signal given, off they set! The rocks re-echo with the sound! The dwarf first reach’d the goal, and met Full butt his rival, turning round. Tialf bit his lips, and scarce suppress’d His anger; panting thus he spake: “’Tis not enough our speed to test; Let us another trial make!”

Now off they start again: and though With all his might young Tialfe raced, Swifter than dart from archer’s bow The supple dwarf the goal embraced. He halted, while his rival still Distant a half bow-shot was seen; Thus easy baffling Tialfe’s skill, He chuckled in his sleeve, I ween.

One trial more the chiefs ordain’d; The dwarf the gage rejected not; He flew, and quick the goal attain’d, And strait returning, reach’d the spot From which they started, long before Tialfe himself could reach the goal. The youth sank breathless on the floor, With jaded limbs and anguish’d soul.

That Tialf was vanquish’d all agreed: Like wind the dwarf now vanish’d fleet. Then Utgard’s chief to Aukthor said: “Now try thyself some dextrous feat! Thy champions hitherto have shown But little skill and little power; But thou perhaps, and thou alone, Mayst all our efforts overpower.”

Thor drily then: “It may be so; I seek not our defeat to skreen: In eating, certes, I allow, That Asa-Lok hath vanquish’d been. But that which most is thought in me Surprising, is my power of drink: Bring me a drinking horn! ye’ll see, From no competitor I shrink.”

The chief gives signal; quick as thought Into the spacious hall is borne, Of curious yellow metal wrought, And carved with runes, a drinking horn. Its point extreme, so vast its length, Afar without the cavern lies: E’en Thor, though conscious of his strength, Was stagger’d at its awful size.

With anxious eye and strict attention See Thor this vessel contemplate! It seems in truth of vast dimension, Yet for his stomach not too great. Then Utgard’s chief. “Well mayst thou doubt, If thou hast power that horn to drain: He who can see its measure out, Certes, will not of thirst complain.

“But when through guile or negligence A giant hath our laws profaned, To empty that whole horn’s contents Is oft the punishment ordain’d. One draught the horn can seldom drain, In two the feat we sometimes see; But there is none among my train Who cannot empty it in three.”

To him thus Asa-Lok replied: “’Mongst all the chiefs in Odin’s realm, If my experience may decide, In drinking Thor bears off the palm. Whene’er he calls aloud for drink, And graps the horn with nervous arm, The Asar back with terror shrink, And Valhall trembles with alarm.

“For him Iduna’s tender care Provides the luscious apple-wine; And scarcely more delicious are The kisses from her lips divine: In drinking, as in fighting great, One single draught doth Thor suffice The largest horn to empty strait; And none with him dispute the prize.

“A well known fact I now declare; As’-Odin every morning hies To Mimer’s sacred fountain, where He courteous for a drink applies: Then Mimer from those bounteous rills A beaker, of dimensions vast In depth and breath, with water fills; That water boasts of wine the taste.

“Odin once Valaskialf forsook; To travel far it seem’d him fit: While absent, Thor that beaker took, And at one draught he emptied it: Since then, the mighty warrior’s fame Resounds from every Asa’s mouth, And Asgard’s chronicles proclaim The feat. I tell ye naught but truth.

When Odin learn’d this act of Thor, Thus burst he forth in angry tone: “Ha! what presumption! thou art far Too daring and too rash, my son! That fountain fresh with wisdom glows; Thor drank and straight did wit obtain: How canst thou, then, our chief suppose Incompetent thy horn to drain?”

Then answer’d Utgard’s prince: “Who knows? In Odin’s hall perhaps they feel Less thirst than here.” Then Thor arose, And with that arm, whose nerves are steel, The horn he lifted from the ground; Nor difficult this effort seem’d: This movement caused an echoing sound, And was alone a marvel deem’d.

“Of drinkers we will hail thee first, If in that horn thou naught dost leave; And certainly thy tongue with thirst Unto thy palate will not cleave.” Thus sneering said the fiend: awhile The Asa stood immers’d in thought: Then grasp’d the horn with sudden smile, And took one long and pow’rful draught.

E’en as the sandy wilderness Drinks in th’ impetuous floods of rain, That pour down from the heavenly space, Thus Aukthor drank, and drank amain: He stopp’d, and with complacent look Began the vessel to explore; Yet spite of the long draught he took, It seem’d as full as ’twas before.

But Thor’s high courage never fails; He leans upon his hammer bright: Again the beaker he assails, And quaffs with all his soul and might. In furrows deep his forehead rolls; His veins swell at the effort rude: He drank, as do the clefts and holes Of the ravine drink in the flood.

Once more the chief review’d the horn; Full, as before, the horn remains: How deep did then our hero mourn His baffled strength and bootless pains! Well might this horn with wonder fill Those, who knew not its mystery; For, spite of all he swallow’d, still The smallest space was not left dry.

Again the god his mouth applies Th’ unfathomable horn to drain: He drank, e’en as the deep abyss Drank in the blood of Ymer slain: The giants who this feat beheld All with astonishment turn’d pale, But prudently their fear conceal’d: Yet e’en this draught did nought avail.

When Asa Thor at length perceived, How fruitless all his efforts were To drain the horn, he inward grieved, And thus he spoke: “I must declare, Ye chiefs of Jotunheim are first In power of swallowing drink, as well As flesh; for such unnatural thirst We sons of Asgard never feel.

“The bowl we Asar do not drain The feverish heat of thirst to quell; We feel it not; ’tis strength to gain, That we imbibe our hydromel. How joyous at the board we meet! What lovely maids our drink prepare! ’Tis far less water’d, and more sweet Than your insipid beverage here.”

Then to the god these words address’d The chief of Utgard’s gloomy state. “When with broad shoulders we are bless’d, The stomach also should be great; But since ’tis only sport, I fain Some other proof of skill would see; Some cheerful game do thou ordain! The choice, O chief! I leave to thee.

“Our custom in this vast saloon Is to divert ourselves with play; Tis thus with my companions boon Fast glide the tedious hours away; Then let us now at once proceed To try some sport, the time to pass I have it: Who can best succeed In lifting up a ponderous mass?”

Quoth Thor: “I do consent to that.” Lo! from a hole came running out A big and curious broad-tail’d cat, And twirl’d itself the hall about. It look’d at Thor, and seem’d to quake With terror; then it shrunk, and bent Itself in folds, like wily snake, To spring upon its prey intent.

With its red eyes so small it peep’d, Hunger and malice in its frown; Then on its belly forward crept, And gently by the god lay down. No furs enwrapp’d this creature’s skin, But rings of horn its limbs encased; When first call’d forth the sport to join, It seem’d with terror sore oppress’d.

It play’d and frisk’d the guests among With tail so scaly long and thick; Its mouth protrudes a forked tongue, With which ’twas wont its lips to lick. Then Lok: “Canst thou lift up that cat, O Thor! thy strength is great indeed.” “Nay!” answered Asa Lok, “a weight Far greater he can lift at need.

“The hammer that our chief doth bear, Alone outweighs one hundred pound; But mark my words, while I declare A feat, for which he’s much renown’d: Once into lovely Freya’s hall He enter’d, while she sleeping lay; He seiz’d the goddess, couch and all, And bore them in his arms away.

With freshest rose-leaves fill’d, the bed Was wrought of massive golden ore; But though so heavily it weigh’d, With ease he raised it from the floor; Then to his castle, Trudvang hight, Triumphant bore it through the air; So noiseless was the Asa’s flight, He naught disturb’d the sleeping fair.

The goddess bright with roses crown’d Awoke at midnight’s solemn hour, And much did it the fair astound, To find herself in Aukthor’s bower: Himself was kneeling by her side; Till roused from her surprize at length She rose in all her beauty’s pride, And trembled at the hero’s strength.[31]

Since charged with load of such vast weight, He bird-like cleaved the liquid air, Dost thou suppose thy frightful cat Too heavy for his arm to bear? Two sable cats[32] draw Freya’s car, And what they draw, he raised alone: Than both his strength was greater far; Think ye, he cannot lift up one?”

The prince of Utgard smiled: “Take care!” Quoth he: “be not too sure of that! For I suspect, that Freya’s car Is far less heavy than my cat.” Now Thor prepared in Utgard’s hall His strength to prove with eager zest; But silence he implored from all, And all complied with his request.

Fixing the cat with watchful eye, Thor ’neath its belly threw his arm; It claw’d and spat most frightfully, And whined with fury and alarm. ’Twas vain with this vile beast to cope, And Thor soon found his efforts weak; The more he strove to lift it up, The higher still became its back.

On high, as far as arm could reach, He raised the creature towards the roof; But higher still the cat could stretch Its strange elastic form at proof: So hard the struggle, e’en the soul Of mighty Thor felt some dismay: Now through the roof he breaks a hole, And fain towards heaven would lift his prey.

But spite of all his efforts, he Could raise but one leg from the hearth; Tenacious clung the other three, As if fast rooted, to the earth. At length exhausted he became, And down he let the creature fall; And though he strove to hide his shame, ’Twas clearly visible to all.

The cat was then removed. The fiend With look demure and wily sneer Then said to Tialfe’s lord: “My friend! Thus goes it with our pastimes here. Like all things else in our domain, That cat can wond’rous strength deploy; E’en Thor, great Odin’s son, ’tis plain, Cannot in strength with giants vie.”

To him thus sharp the god of war, For much those words his spirit grate: “Now by my hammer and my car, Talking and boasting much I hate; But since with sneer and bantering The force of Thor thou seemst to doubt, Come forth thyself, O swarthy king! And try with me a wrestling bout!”

With soften’d voice the chief rejoin’d, For now fear made him lower his crest: “Nay! why so hasty? bear in mind, That all things here are done in jest! No malice here disturbs our sport; But since a wrestling match you chuse, I’ve an old woman in my court, To cope with Thor she’ll not refuse.”

To him Laufeia’s crafty son: “She comes not for our chief too late; She’ll rue the sport; his grasp alone Has power her limbs to dislocate: In ancient runes hath she not read, How on the giant’s isle of rock, ’Midst a vast female troop he sped, And made them feel his hammer’s shock?

“’Twas sport to see him deal such blows On those fierce virgins; none unscathed Escaped; though numberless his foes, ’Midst flames his look defiance breathed: To drown him one the thought conceived, And urged him to the ocean’s brink; But such a blow her scull received, She ne’er again had power to think.[33]”

Angry and deeply blushing, Thor Struck on the forehead Asa Lok: Down to the earth he sank before His feet, while thus the thund’rer spoke. “Thus I chastise thy sland’rous tongue, On calumny and lies intent: Doubtless the Asar’s choir among Thou art the most impertinent!

“Wretched buffoon! base weather-cock! Vile mimic of the giant race! How darest thou Asa Thor provoke, And falsehoods thus insidious trace? Thyself an Asa, thou do’st e’er Delight thy peers to vilify: As sure as Fenris howls, I swear Thy punishment shall dreadful be.”

Now rising slow with blushing cheek, And forehead bleeding, Loptur spoke: “Why, cruel! on thy comrade wreak Thy vengeance for a harmless joke? ’Twas but in jest; since ’twas agreed That all we do should be in sport, Why not in word as well as deed With temper bear a sly retort?

“Are then thy strength and bravery At once become so weak, O Thor, That a mere joke, a raillery, To damp their energy hath power? No signs of fear or weakness show’d Those virgins: clad in steel and brass, With clubs they to the battle strode; In strength no males could them surpass.

“Yes! female goblins fell were they, Who sank beneath thy shaft divine; And this old woman here, I say, Reminds me of that act of thine: Meagre, decrepit, toothless, old, Can such a witch with Thor contend?” Then quickly answer’d Thor the bold: “Enough! here let our quarrel end!”

Now tottering in the hall appears, Leaning a knotty staff upon, A woman deep advanced in years; Her eyes were sunk, her cheek was wan; Her coarse white locks, her shrivell’d skin Announced extreme decrepitude: To pity much did Thor incline, When such a fragile form he view’d.

“It is not fit,” the Asa said, “That thou shouldst cope with me before Thou hast a cup of juice essay’d, Whose fruit grows in Valhalla’s bower.” Now from a hole within his shield He took a fruit of luscious taste:[34] With courteous look and accent mild To taste it much the dame he prest.

“Eat this! my venerable dame! Thy days of youth ’twill straight restore; This fruit from Bragur’s garden came; Iduna guards the sacred store: ’Twill make thy veins beat high with youth; ’Twill fill with eloquence thy tongue.” Then thus the dame: “I’m old, in truth, Yet I remain for ever young.

“All things do I devour, yet naught Consume; as for thy fruit divine, Keep it thyself! I need it not! But come! let us the sport begin!” Thus said, her arms around her foe She cast with wondrous force and glee; Thor, struggling hard the crone to throw, At length fell breathless on his knee.

His comrades trembled, sore afraid To view their chieftain’s sad mischance: Now Thor to them a signal made To succour him with sword and lance. Then turning round in wrath extreme, To Utgard-Lok he fiercely cries: “Let me this instant quit thy realm, Where frantic witchcraft gains the prize!

“I cannot bear such magic spells, Such visions strange: Odin alone, My sire, who in Valhalla dwells, Can from such mischief shield his son: Unknown to him I’ve travell’d here; Ah me! I do repent me now! Deceit, misfortune, checks severe Are all that I have proved below.

“But when we next renew the fight, Naught shall thy spells thy person shield: Odin can magic runes indite, As Thor knows how his mace to wield: Allied we shall one day descend From thy vile yoke the world to free, And Utgard-Lok, arch-traitrous fiend, In his own realm shall vanquish’d be.”

Indignant then he faced about, While shame and anger tinged his cheek; The chief of Utgard led him out, With mind perplex’d and gesture meek: The mountain deeply sigh’d and mourn’d; Down rush’d its silv’ry blood amain; The gate slow on its hinges turn’d, And Thor once more bestrode the plain.