CANTO IX.

THOR’S FISHING ADVENTURE.

Lo! coil’d in folds voluminous and vast, Behind huge beds of coral buried fast, Far in the deepest cavern of the sea, The Midgard serpent Jormundgardur lay! While o’er him free and active sports the whale, He foams, and with vexation bites his tail.

Full oft he strives to lift his frightful head Above the wave, and terror round him spread; But cased in boney rings and cartilage, Vain are his efforts, impotent his rage. Dozing amidst the sedge with half-closed eye, Oft has the deep re-echoed with his sigh. The dark blue billow from his vision shields The starry vault, the bright celestial fields: And as the bear, when angry, licks his paws, Thus oft he threatens, while his tail he gnaws: Oysters and muscles thickly cluster’d deck, In guise of beard, the scaly monster’s neck.

Lashing the coast, his body mines the rock; The waters mount; earth feels the frequent shock; Nastrond wide gapes, and Hecla vomits smoke! With flames of joy the ice-crown’d mountain glows, While down its side the liquid lava flows!

There, while the wave drips from his shaggy mane, Lok’s frightful offspring doth his post maintain: There doth he lie, and heave, and pant, and rock, Impatient for the day of Ragnarok.

But lo! his sluggish eye he opens wide, And marks the Asa’s bait before him glide: The bull’s head floating ’fore his mouth he sees, And eager his fell hunger to appease, Prepares with swallow wide the tempting bait to seize.

When at his belt Thor feels a vig’rous pull, The snake has bitten, and his gorge is full.

Thor towards him draws the belt: the serpent’s head, With weeds, the growth of centuries, bespread, Must needs the will of Asa Thor obey, And rise perforce to view the light of day; The anchor to disgorge in vain he toils, And struggling hard in knots his body coils. In vain; Thor is a fisherman endow’d With perseverance, strength, and hardihood; The serpent pow’rless with extended jaws Must blindly follow, when the Asa draws.

But when above the wave appears his head, Earth trembles with astonishment and dread; The sky is overcast with sudden gloom, And mix’d with sand the billows swell and foam. When high in air protrude his long fore-teeth, All nature shrinks, infected by his breath: Small is his left, and large his dexter eye; His scales present a many-colour’d die: His jaws wide gape, his palate swells with pain; As wont, like fighting cock, he screams amain: The dryness of his throat with sultry heat Charges the air--now threatens to upset The fragile bark; but Thor around his loins Tighter and tighter still his girdle twines: Naught fears the god, whom heroes all revere; He puts forth all his strength, and shines without compeer. Towards him he pulls his prey with effort rude; The serpent writhes, his jaws are fill’d with blood; The bark is swamp’d; but lo! on shallow ground The chief already has a station found, And drags the monster forth from the abyss profound. The monster shakes and bellows; from his eye Shoot flames; but Thor, the fisher good stands nigh, And threatens Nastrond’s brood with hammer lifted high When now the giant saw the danger grave, Thus with himself he reason’d: “I must save This serpent, for the sake of Jotunheim: For is it not foretold in mystic rhyme, At Ragnarok this snake with pois’nous breath Thor, our arch-enemy, will crush to death?” The wolf-faced giant, vex’d his bark to lose, And anxious from the hook the captive snake to loose, His dagger grasping (fashion’d ’twas with skill By the dwarf’s labour) strives the belt to file; But Thor, with his vast hammer rising now: Strikes at the monster’s head a fearful blow. Deep was the sound! the pines along the shore Scatter their leaves; and loud the billows roar! Fresh ’midst the murky skies the rainbow glows; Heimdal rejoicing loud his clarion blows! The rain comes hissing down, the lightning glares; The sun’s bright eye, but lately fill’d with tears, Bursts through the blanket of the dark, to view The Asa’s valour, and his triumph too.

On high now Thor his hammer lifts again: The giant shakes with fear; the serpent yells with pain.

Though still the giant strives the belt to file With his sharp dagger, naught avails his toil; Now on the anchor he would fain essay His force; and, wading fish-like, bends his way, To where, still struggling hard, the hook-bound serpent lay. He puts forth all his strength, and files: the sight Makes Heimdal tremble, e’en from Bifrost’s height.

Now dark as pitch become the heavens, for lo! Filed by the giant’s steel, the anchor bursts in two! The serpent freed now sinks beneath the main, And hark! resounds a loud triumphal strain; ’Tis Loptur’s[41] daughter, who the gods on high Insults with gibing laugh, and bitter mockery.

Inland the giant towards his mountain flies: Up to his waist in water Aukthor cries, And fills with imprecations dire the skies.

Now through the yeasty wave he wades; his rage And deep vexation nothing can assuage: He hurls his lightning o’er th’ affrighted main, And still he hopes, and thinks the monster serpent slain.

The serpent ’midst the rushes roll’d and raved, Severely wounded, though his life was saved: Again his crest he raises, on the rock Again he lies, and waits for Ragnarok.

Now in his fury Thor his hammer threw After the serpent: deep the nib pierced through The monster’s flank; the gods beheld with pain Such glorious feats of strength deploy’d in vain.

Now Thor without his hammer homeward hies: Between the serpent’s scales deep-buried Miölner lies.