In offering to the reader this translation of the most complete
and dramatic form of the great Epic of the North, we lay no claim
to special critical insight, nor do we care to deal at all with
vexed questions, but are content to abide by existing
authorities, doing our utmost to make our rendering close and
accurate, and, if it might be so, at the same time, not over
prosaic: it is to the lover of poetry and nature, rather than to
the student, that we appeal to enjoy and wonder at this great
work, now for the first time, strange to say, translated into
English: this must be our excuse for speaking here, as briefly as
may be, of things that will seem to the student over well known
to be worth mentioning, but which may give some ease to the
general reader who comes across our book.
The prose of the "Volsunga Saga" was composed probably some time
in the twelfth century, from floating traditions no doubt; from
songs which, now lost, were then known, at least in fragments, to
the Sagaman; and finally from songs, which, written down about
his time, are still existing: the greater part of these last the
reader will find in this book, some inserted amongst the prose
text by the original story-teller, and some by the present
translators, and the remainder in the latter part of the book,
put together as nearly as may be in the order of the story, and
forming a metrical version of the greater portion of it.
These Songs from the Elder Edda we will now briefly compare with
the prose of the Volsung Story, premising that these are the only
metrical sources existing of those from which the Sagaman told
his tale.
Except for the short snatch on p. 24 (1) of our translation,
nothing is now left of these till we come to the episode of Helgi
Hundings-bane, Sigurd's half-brother; there are two songs left
relating to this, from which the prose is put together; to a
certain extent they cover the same ground; but the latter half of
the second is, wisely as we think, left untouched by the Sagaman,
as its interest is of itself too great not to encumber the
progress of the main story; for the sake of its wonderful beauty,
however, we could not refrain from rendering it, and it will be
found first among the metrical translations that form the second
part of this book.
Of the next part of the Saga, the deaths of Sinfjotli and
Sigmund, and the journey of Queen Hjordis to the court of King
Alf, there is no trace left of any metrical origin; but we meet
the Edda once more where Regin tells the tale of his kin to
Sigurd, and where Sigurd defeats and slays the sons of Hunding:
this lay is known as the "Lay of Regin".
The short chap. xvi. is abbreviated from a long poem called the
"Prophecy of Gripir" (the Grifir of the Saga), where the whole
story to come is told with some detail, and which certainly, if
drawn out at length into the prose, would have forestalled the
interest of the tale.
In the slaying of the Dragon the Saga adheres very closely to the
"Lay of Fafnir"; for the insertion of the song of the birds to
Sigurd the present translators are responsible.
Then comes the waking of Brynhild, and her wise redes to Sigurd,
taken from the Lay of Sigrdrifa, the greater part of which, in
its metrical form, is inserted by the Sagaman into his prose; but
the stanza relating Brynhild's awaking we have inserted into the
text; the latter part, omitted in the prose, we have translated
for the second part of our book.
Of Sigurd at Hlymdale, of Gudrun's dream, the magic potion of
Grimhild, the wedding of Sigurd consequent on that potion; of the
wooing of Brynhild for Gunnar, her marriage to him, of the
quarrel of the Queens, the brooding grief and wrath of Brynhild,
and the interview of Sigurd with her -- of all this, the most
dramatic and best-considered parts of the tale, there is now no
more left that retains its metrical form than the few snatches
preserved by the Sagaman, though many of the incidents are
alluded to in other poems.
Chap. xxx. is met by the poem called the "Short Lay of Sigurd",
which, fragmentary apparently at the beginning, gives us
something of Brynhild's awakening wrath and jealousy, the slaying
of Sigurd, and the death of Brynhild herself; this poem we have
translated entire.
The Fragments of the "Lay of Brynhild" are what is left of a poem
partly covering the same ground as this last, but giving a
different account of Sigurd's slaying; it is very incomplete,
though the Sagaman has drawn some incidents from it; the reader
will find it translated in our second part.
But before the death of the heroine we have inserted entire into
the text as chap. xxxi. the "First Lay of Gudrun", the most
lyrical, the most complete, and the most beautiful of all the
Eddaic poems; a poem that any age or language might count among
its most precious possessions.
From this point to the end of the Saga it keeps closely to the
Songs of Edda; in chap. xxxii. the Sagaman has rendered into
prose the "Ancient Lay of Gudrun", except for the beginning,
which gives again another account of the death of Sigurd: this
lay also we have translated.
The grand poem, called the "Hell-ride of Brynhild", is not
represented directly by anything in the prose except that the
Sagaman has supplied from it a link or two wanting in the "Lay of
Sigrdrifa"; it will be found translated in our second part.
The betrayal and slaughter of the Giukings or Niblungs, and the
fearful end of Atli and his sons, and court, are recounted in two
lays, called the "Lays of Atli"; the longest of these, the
"Greenland Lay of Atli", is followed closely by the Sagaman; the
Shorter one we have translated.
The end of Gudrun, of her daughter by Sigurd and of her sons by
her last husband Jonakr, treated of in the last four chapters of
the Saga, are very grandly and poetically given in the songs
called the "Whetting of Gudrun", and the "Lay of Hamdir", which
are also among our translations.
These are all the songs of the Edda which the Sagaman has dealt
with; but one other, the "Lament of Oddrun", we have translated
on account of its intrinsic merit.
As to the literary quality of this work we in say much, but we
think we may well trust the reader of poetic insight to break
through whatever entanglement of strange manners or unused
element may at first trouble him, and to meet the nature and
beauty with which it is filled: we cannot doubt that such a
reader will be intensely touched by finding, amidst all its
wildness and remoteness, such a startling realism, such subtilty,
such close sympathy with all the passions that may move himself
to-day.
In conclusion, we must again say how strange it seems to us, that
this Volsung Tale, which is in fact an unversified poem, should
never before been translated into English. For this is the Great
Story of the North, which should be to all our race what the Tale
of Troy was to the Greeks -- to all our race first, and
afterwards, when the change of the world has made our race
nothing more than a name of what has been -- a story too -- then
should it be to those that come after us no less than the Tale of
Troy has been to us.
WILLIAM MORRIS and EIRIKR MAGNUSSON.