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            <title type="main">Norse Romanticism: </title>
            <title type="subordinate">Thomas Percy</title>
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                  <title level="a" type="main">The Dying Ode of Regnar Lodbrog</title>
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            <anchor xml:id="intro"/>
            <head>Thomas Percy (1729–1811)</head>
            <p>Thomas Percy, churchman and Bishop of Dromore from 1782 to 1798, became one
                        of the leading  scholars on literary and antiquarian matters. He edited
                        a number of publications, including  translations from Chinese,
                        analysis of Hebrew scripture, and an aborted collection of Spanish songs
                        on Moorish subjects. However, the work that made his name was the publication of a manuscript which he  discovered (c. 1753) in the house of his
                        friend Humphrey Pitt. The maids were using its leaves to  light the
                        fire. The manuscript contained versions of traditional ballads, probably
                        compiled in the  mid-17th century. <hi rend="ital">Reliques of Ancient
                            English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs and  Other
                            Pieces of Our Earlier Poets (Chiefly of the Lyric Kind) Together with
                            Some Few of Later  Date</hi> was published by the bookseller Robert
                        Dodsley in 1765 and was an immediate success, with  a fourth edition
                        published in 1794. <hi rend="ital">Reliques</hi> was instrumental in
                        encouraging the collection and  study of English ballads. But poets
                        such as <ref target="./Wordsworth.html">William Wordsworth</ref>, <ref target="./Scott.html">Walter Scott</ref>, and S. T. Coleridge  also
                        cited Percy’s work as a source of inspiration for their fiction.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="1">For a
                                general overview, see Kathryn Sutherland, “The Native Poet:
                                The Influence of Percy’s Minstrel from Beattie to 
                                Wordsworth”, <hi rend="ital">Review of English Studies</hi> 33
                                (1982): 414–33.</note>
            </p>
            <p>The antiquary Joseph Ritson attacked Percy for his editorial practices.
                        Although Percy did not  fake anything, he certainly interfered with the
                        ballads by rewriting, conflating, and adding to them.  This was
                        revealed when the manuscript from which he worked was published in full by
                        J. W. Hales  and F. J. Furnivall as <hi rend="ital">Percy’s
                            Folio MS</hi> (1867). After his preferment as bishop, Percy increasingly
                         dissociated himself from the role of pioneer in the study of
                        vernacular antiquities.</p>
            <p>Two years before the first edition of <hi rend="ital">Reliques of Ancient
                            English Poetry</hi> (1765), Percy published 
                        <hi rend="ital">Five Pieces of Runic Poetry Translated from the Islandic
                            Language</hi> (1763). Like all seventeenth-  and eighteenth-century
                        British translators of Old Norse poetry, Percy relied on Latin
                        intermediaries.  But to check the translations, Percy enlisted the help
                        of Anglo-Saxon and Gothic scholar Edward  Lye (1694–1767). In
                            <hi rend="ital">Five Pieces</hi>, “The Death Song of Ragnar
                        Lodbrog” (today often referred to as 
                        <hi rend="ital">Krákumál</hi> or the Song of Kraka) was
                        translated in full for the first time. Since Ragnar was seen to 
                        epitomize the heroic and superstitious attitudes of the Gothic forefathers,
                        it became the Old Norse  text most frequently translated, abstracted
                        and referred to in the eighteenth and early nineteenth  centuries. The
                        principal source of transmission of the poem was the Danish antiquary Ole
                        Worm  (Lat. Olaus Wormius), who printed it in Latin translation, with a
                        transcription into runes, in his 
                        <hi rend="ital">[Runer] seu Danica literatura antiquissima</hi> (1636, rev.
               1651). The misapprehensions that marred this Latin version determined the interpretation of the practices and belief of Germanic ancestors, especially in regard to the mistranslation that makes the speaker look forward to carousing with drinking vessels made of human skulls (see stanza VIII below).</p>
            <p>The speaker in the poem is the semi-legendary Scandinavian king, Ragnar
                        Lodbrog (<hi rend="ital">Ragnarr  Loðbrók</hi>), who
                        recalls his warrior feats from a pit of poisonous snakes, into which he has
                        been  thrown by his enemy, King Ella of Northumberland. In the course
                        of the first twenty-one stanzas,  Ragnar recounts his many battles. The
                        remainder of the poem is spoken in the poetic present, as he  is
                        succumbing to the effects of venom. With undaunted confidence, Ragnar
                        expresses his  anticipation of joining other fallen heroes in
                        Odin’s Valhalla, and he sets out the hope that his sons  will
                        avenge his murder.</p>
            <p>The poem is a skaldic song (i.e. it belongs to a courtly tradition), written
                        in a variation of the  poetic metre <hi rend="ital">dróttkvæði</hi>. The stanzas were transmitted in
                        connection with <hi rend="ital">Ragnars saga loðbrókar</hi>,
                         which it follows in a vellum from around 1400.</p>
            <p>In the text below, Percy’s original notes to the poem have been
                        preserved, since some of these  are indicative of his attempts to
                        provide a “readable” version for an English public. This is
                         especially a case of rewriting the <hi rend="ital">kennings</hi>,
                        which require knowledge of Norse mythology in order  to make sense.
                        Percy displays a degree of scholarly sincerity as he frequently marks passages that were difficult to understand with either triple or,
                        when really problematic, quadruple asterisks  (as it can be seen in
                        several lines below). However, a great number of modifications of the
                        original  and unwarranted additions are passed over in silence.</p>
            <p>It was the antiquary James Johnstone who produced the most philologically
                        accurate edition of  the eighteenth century. Johnstone had the aid of
                        the distinguished Icelandic scholar Grímur Jónsson 
                        Thorkelin, who was National Archivist in Copenhagen. In the notes to the
                        poem, he provides an  overview of the allusions to Baltic geography and
                        the region of Britain. Relevant information from  Johnstone’s
                        work is extracted below for each of Percy’s stanzas. (The
                        interpretation of some of the  place names in the original remains a
                        matter of dispute.)</p>
            <list>
               <item>
                  <label>I.</label> Gothland. Sweden.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>II.</label> “Describes an engagement in the Straits of
                                <hi rend="ital">Eyra</hi>, now the <hi rend="ital">Sound</hi> near
                                <hi rend="ital">Elsinore</hi> [Denmark]”</item>
               <item>
                  <label>III.</label> “An Expedition to <hi rend="ital">Duina</hi> a river in <hi rend="ital">Livonia</hi>”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>IV.</label> “ <hi rend="ital">Helsing</hi> was a
                            district of <hi rend="ital">Sweden</hi>”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>V.</label> –</item>
               <item>
                  <label>VI.</label> “Scarpa-sceria i.e. the sharp rocks,
                            probably <hi rend="ital">Scarpey</hi> near <hi rend="ital">Spangaheidi</hi>, in <hi rend="ital">Norway</hi>, the  scene
                            of many of <hi rend="ital">Regner’s</hi>
                            adventures”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>VII.</label> “ <hi rend="ital">Indyriis</hi> is thought
                            to be the <hi rend="ital">Inderö</hi> isles in the bay of <hi rend="ital">Drontheim</hi> [Norway]”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>VIII.</label> Uppsala. Sweden</item>
               <item>
                  <label>IX.</label> “<hi rend="ital">Burgundar-holm</hi>, now
                                <hi rend="ital">Bornholm</hi>, an island in the <hi rend="ital">Baltic</hi>”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>X.</label> “ <hi rend="ital">Flemingia-veldi</hi>,
                            included the antient <hi rend="ital">Belgium</hi>, now <hi rend="ital">Low-countries</hi>”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XI.</label> “All the rest of the poem relates to <hi rend="ital">Regner’s</hi> expeditions round the <hi rend="ital">British isles</hi>. <hi rend="ital">Engla</hi>-<hi rend="ital">nes</hi>
                             means <hi rend="ital">English</hi> cape, probably on the coast of
                                <hi rend="ital">Kent</hi> …”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XII.</label> “ <hi rend="ital">Bartha-firthi</hi> seems
                            to have been the mouth of the <hi rend="ital">Tay</hi>, near <hi rend="ital">Perth</hi> [Scotland]”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XIII.</label> “ <hi rend="ital">Hedninga</hi> bay is
                            supposed to have been in the <hi rend="ital">Orkneys</hi>”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XIV.</label> Northumberland.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XV.</label> The Hebrides.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XVI.</label> “<hi rend="ital">Regner</hi> makes an
                            expedition to <hi rend="ital">Ireland</hi>”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XVII.</label> –</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XVIII.</label> Isle of Sky.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XIX.</label> Hebrides.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XX.</label> “<hi rend="ital">Lindiseyri</hi> is by some
                            thought to be <hi rend="ital">Lindisnes</hi> in <hi rend="ital">Norway</hi>, but, as the <hi rend="ital">Irish</hi> are mentioned,
                            it  is more probably <hi rend="ital">Leins-tir</hi> in <hi rend="ital">Ireland</hi>”.</item>
               <item>
                  <label>XXI.</label> “Records a battle, at the mouth of a river
                            in <hi rend="ital">Anglesey</hi> …”.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="2">Source: <hi rend="ital">Lodbrokar-Quida; or the Death Song of Lodbrog,
                                        Now First Correctly Printed from Various Manuscripts</hi>,
                                    ed.  James Johnstone (Copenhagen, 1782),
                                95–111.</note>
               </item>
            </list>
            <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">***</p>
         </div>
         <div type="section">
            <head>The Dying Ode of Regner Lodbrog (1763)</head>
            <div type="section">
               <head>Introduction</head>
               <p>King Regner Lodbrog was a celebrated Poet, Warrior, and (what was the
                            same thing in those ages)  Pirate; who reigned in Denmark, about
                            the beginning of the ninth century. After many warlike  expeditions
                            by sea and land, he at length met with bad fortune. He was taken in
                            battle by his adversary  Ella king of Northumberland. War in those
                            rude ages was carried on with the fame inhumanity, as it is  now
                            among the savages of North-America: their prisoners were only reserved
                            to be put to death with  torture. Regner was accordingly thrown
                            into a dungeon to be stung to death by serpents. While he was 
                            dying he composed this song, wherein he records all the valiant
                            atchievements of his life, and threatens  Ella with vengeance;
                            which history informs us was afterwards executed by the sons of
                                Regner.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="3">
                                     This revenge, Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian histories
                                    tell us, took place when warriors, who are said to be
                                    Ragnar’s  sons, invaded northeast England in
                                    867.</note>
               </p>
               <p>It is, after all, conjectured that Regner himself only composed a few
                            stanzas of this poem, and that  the rest were added by his <hi rend="ital">Scald</hi> or poet-laureat, whose business it was to add
                            to the solemnities of his  funeral by singing some poem in his
                            praise. <hi rend="ital">L’Edda par Chev. Mallet, p.</hi> 150</p>
               <p>This piece is translated from the Islandic original published by Olaus
                            Wormius in his <hi rend="ital">Literatura Runica  Hafniæ
                                4to.</hi>1631.— <hi rend="ital">Ibidem, 2. Edit. Fol</hi>.
                            1651.</p>
               <p>N. B. Thora, mentioned in the first stanza, was daughter of some little
                            Gothic prince, whose palace  was infested by a large serpent; he
                            offered his daughter in marriage to any one that would kill the 
                            monster and set her free. Regner accomplished the atchievement and
                            acquired the name of <hi rend="ital">Lod-brog,</hi>
                             which signifies ROUGH or HAIRY-BREECHES, because he cloathed
                            himself all over in rough or  hairy skins before he made the
                            attack. [<hi rend="ital">Vide Saxon Gram. pag.</hi> 152, 153.]
                            —This is the poetical account  of this adventure: but
                            history informs us that Thora was kept prisoner by one of her
                            father’s vassals,  whose name was <hi rend="ital">Orme</hi>
                            or <hi rendition="#smcap">Serpent</hi>, and that it was from this man
                            that Regner delivered her, clad in the  aforesaid shaggy armour.
                            But he himself chuses to commemorate it in the most poetical manner.</p>
               <p>
                  <hi rend="ital">Vide Chev. Mallet Introd. a L</hi> ’<hi rend="ital">Hist. de Dannemarc. pag.</hi>201.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[I]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: *** when in Gothland I slew an enormous serpent:
                            my reward was the  beauteous Thora. Thence I was deemed a man: they
                            called me Lodbrog from that slaughter.*** I  thrust the monster
                            through with my spear, with the steel productive of splendid
                                rewards.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="4">
                                     The first stanza, about the victory over a
                                    supernatural creature, is strangely out of sync with the
                                    descriptions of  ordinary, human battles enumerated in the
                                    rest of the poem. It was likely introduced as part of a
                                    different tradition  associated with Ragnar. In
                                    Percy’s essay “On Ancient Metrical Romances
                                    &amp;c”, prefixed to the third volume of <hi rend="ital">Reliques of Ancient English Poetry</hi>,
                                    Percy used Ragnar’s one-off knightly achievement in this
                                    stanza as evidence of English  metrical romances being
                                    founded on Norse tradition. He says this despite the fact that
                                    the poem does not otherwise refer  to Ragnar in connection
                                    with any romantic endeavours.</note>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[II]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: I was very young, when towards the East, in the
                            straights of Eirar, we  gained rivers of blood<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† Literally “Rivers of
                                    wounds.”—By the yellow-footed fowl is meant
                                    the eagle.</note> for the ravenous wolf: ample food for the
                            yellow-footed fowl. There the hard  iron sung upon the lofty
                            helmets. The whole ocean was one wound. The raven waded in the blood of
                             the slain.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[III]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: we lifted high our lances; when I had numbered
                            twenty years, and every  where acquired great renown. We conquered
                            eight barons at the mouth of the Danube. We procured  ample
                            entertainment for the eagle in that slaughter. Bloody sweat fell in the
                            ocean of wounds. A host of  men there lost their lives.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[IV]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: we enjoyed the fight, when we sent the inhabitants
                            of Helsing to the  habitation of the gods<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† Literally, “to the hall of
                                    Odin.”</note>. We failed up the Vistula. Then the
                            sword acquired spoils: the whole ocean was  one wound: the earth
                            grew red with reeking gore: the sword grinned at the coats of mail: the
                            sword  cleft the shields asunder.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[V]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: I well remember that no one fled that day in the
                            battle before in the ships  Herauder<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="5">Ragnar’s
                                    father-in-law.</note> fell. There does not a fairer warrior
                            divide the ocean with his vessels. *** This prince ever  brought to
                            the battle a gallant heart.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[VI]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: the army cast away their shields. Then flew the
                            spear to the breasts of the  warriors. The sword in the fight cut
                            the very rocks: the shield was all besmeared with blood, before 
                            king Rafno fell, our foe. The warm sweat run down from the heads on the
                            coats of mail.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[VII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, before the isles of Indir. We gave ample prey for
                            the ravens to rend in  pieces: a banquet for the wild beasts that
                            feed on flesh. At that time all were valiant: it were difficult to 
                            single out any one. At the rising of the sun, I saw the lances pierce:
                            the bows darted the arrows from  them.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[VIII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: loud was the din<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† <hi rendition="#smcap">Din</hi> is the
                                    word in the Islandic original. <hi rend="ital">Dinn greniudu
                                        brottan.</hi>
                     <note place="foot" resp="editors" n="6">
                         This editorial note on the
                                            similarity between the Norse <hi rend="ital">dinn</hi>
                                            and the English <hi rend="ital">din</hi> appears to give
                                            no essential  information to the reader apart from
                                            highlighting the closeness of Percy’s translation
                                            to the original. It may also serve to  back up his
                                            claim in the preface to <hi rend="ital">Five
                                            Pieces</hi>, in which he speaks of the near affinity
                                            between Norse and Anglo-Saxon  tradition, referring
                                            to Icelandic as a “sister dialect” of
                                            English. However, the annotation is based on a
                                            misreading.  Percy’s source, Worm’s
                                                <hi rend="ital">Literatura runica</hi>, had <hi rend="ital">Hett greniudu hrottar.</hi> This is also
                                            how the line is rendered in the  transcript of the
                                            Icelandic original which Percy included in the appendix
                                            to his anthology.</note>
                  </note> of arms; before
                            king Eistin fell in the field. Thence,  enriched with golden
                            spoils, we marched to fight in the land of Vals. There the sword cut the
                            painted  shields.<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">†† Literally, “the paintings of the
                                    shields.”</note> In the meeting of helmets, the blood
                            ran from the wounds: it ran down from the cloven  sculls of
                            men.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[IX]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, before Boring-holmi. We held bloody shields: we
                            stained our spears.  Showers of arrows brake the shield in pieces.
                            The bow sent forth the glittering steel. Volnir fell in the 
                            conflict, than whom there was not a greater king. Wide on the shores lay
                            the scattered dead: the wolves  rejoiced over their prey.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[X]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, in the Flemings land: the battle widely raged
                            before king Freyr fell therein.  The blue steel all reeking with
                            blood fell at length upon the golden mail. Many a virgin bewailed the
                             laughter of that morning. The beasts of prey had ample spoil.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XI]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, before Ainglanes. There saw I thousands lie dead
                            in the ships: we failed to  the battle for six days before the army
                            fell. There we celebrated a <hi rend="ital">mass</hi> of weapons<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† This is intended for a
                                    sneer on the Christian religion, which tho’ it had not
                                    gained any footing in the northern nations,  when this Ode
                                    was written, was not wholly unknown to them. Their piratical
                                    expeditions into the southern countries had  given them
                                    some notion of it, but by no means a favourable one: they
                                    considered it as the religion of cowards, because it  would
                                    have corrected their savage manners.</note>. At rising of
                            the sun  Valdiofur fell before our swords.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, at Bardafyrda. A mower of blood rained from our
                            weapons. Headlong fell  the palid corpse a prey for the hawks. The
                            bow gave a twanging found. The blade sharply bit the coats  of
                            mail: it bit the helmet in the fight. The arrow sharp with poison and
                            all besprinkled with bloody  sweat ran to the wound.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XIII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, before the bay of Hiadning. We held aloft magic
                            shields in the play of battle.  Then might you see men, who rent
                            shields with their swords. The helmets were mattered in the  murmur
                            of the warriors. The pleasure of that day was like having a fair virgin
                            placed beside one in the  bed.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="7">The apparent continuity
                                    between Ragnar’s bellicosity and his amatory sentiments
                                    arrested eighteenth-century  commentators. This was a
                                    result of a mistranslation in Worm’s edition of a Norse
                                    negation, which unfortunately made it  appear as a simile
                                    with positive implications here, as well as in stanzas 14 and
                                    18. In fact, the Norse <hi rend="ital">–at</hi> suffix in
                                    the  original (<hi rend="ital">vasat</hi>) makes the
                                    sentences negative (“it was not as”). What was
                                    created was the picture of a warrior whose  thoughts of war
                                    were imbued with romance, whereas, in the original, the
                                    construction is used to set up a contrast  between fighting
                                    on the battlefield and the comfort in domestic and erotic idyll.
                                    It was not before 1806, in William  Herbert’s <hi rend="ital">Select Icelandic Poetry</hi> that this mistake
                                    was corrected by an English translator.</note>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XIV]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, in the Northumbrian land. A furious storm
                            descended on the shields: many  a lifeless body fell to the earth.
                            It was about the time of the morning, when the foe was compelled to fly
                             in the battle. There the sword sharply bit the polished helmet.
                            The pleasure of that day was like killing a  young widow at the
                            highest feat of the table.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XV]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, in the isles of the south. There Herthiose proved
                            victorious: there died  many of our valiant warriors. In the mower
                            of arms Rogvaldur fell: I lost my son. In the play of arms  came
                            the deadly spear: his lofty crest was dyed with gore. The birds of prey
                            bewailed his fall: they loft  him that prepared them banquets.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XVI]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, in the Irish plains. The bodies of the warriors
                            lay intermingled. The hawk  rejoiced at the play of swords. The
                            Irish king did not act the part of the eagle***. Great was the conflict
                             of sword and shield. King Marstan was killed in the bay: he was
                            given a prey to the hungry ravens.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XVII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: the spear resounded: the banners shone<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† Or more properly
                                    “reflected the sunshine up on the coat of
                                    mail.”</note> upon the coats of mail. I saw many
                             a warrior fall in the morning: many a hero in the contention of
                            arms. Here the sword reached betimes  the heart of my son: it was
                            Egill deprived Agnar of life. He was a youth, who never knew what it was
                            to  fear.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XVIII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, at Skioldunga. We kept our words: we carved out
                            with our weapons a  plenteous banquet for the wolves of the
                                sea<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† A poetical name
                                    for the fishes of prey.</note>. The ships were all besmeared
                            with crimson, as if for  many days the maidens had brought and
                            poured forth wine. All rent was the mail in the clash of arms.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XIX]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, when Harold fell. I saw him strugling in the
                            twilight of death; that young  chief so proud of his flowing
                                locks<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† He means Harold
                                    Harfax king of Norway.— <hi rend="ital">Harfax</hi>
                                    (synonymous to our English <hi rend="ital">Fairfax)</hi>
                                    signifies <hi rend="ital">Fair-locks.</hi>
                     <note place="foot" resp="editors" n="8">Percy,
                                            following Ole Worm, refers to Harold I (called
                                            “Fairhair”) of Norway (<hi rend="ital">Haraldr hárfagri</hi>, c. 840–933).
                                             However, there is no legend mentioning Ragnar
                                            killing Harold, who would also have lived nearly a
                                            century too late for  the two men to meet in
                                            battle. The appellation must refer to King Aurn, a
                                            Gaelic ruler of the Western Isles, whose name  is
                                            mentioned in the original.</note>
                  </note>: he who
                            spent his mornings among the young maidens: he who  loved to
                            converse with the handsome widows. ****</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XX]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: we fought three kings in the isle of Lindis. Few
                            had reason to rejoice that  day. Many fell into the jaws of the
                            wild-beasts. The hawk and the wolf tore the flesh of the dead: they
                             departed glutted with their prey. The blood of the Irish fell
                            plentifully into the ocean, during the time of  that slaughter.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXI]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords, at the isle of Onlug. The uplifted weapon bit the
                            shields. The gilded lance  grated on the mail. The traces of that
                            fight will be seen for ages. There kings marched up to the play of 
                            arms. The mores of the sea were stained with blood. The lances appeared
                            like flying dragons.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords. Death is the happy portion of the brave<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† The northern warriors
                                    thought none were intitled to Elizium, but such as died in
                                    battle, or underwent a violent death.</note>, for he stands
                            the foremost against  the storm of weapons. He, who flies from
                            danger, often bewails his miserable life. Yet how difficult is it 
                            to rouze up a coward to the play of arms? The dastard feels no heart in
                            his bosom.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXIII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords. Young men should march up to the conflict of arms:
                            man should meet man  and never give way. In this hath always
                            consisted the nobility of the warrior. He, who aspires to the  love
                            of his mistress, ought to be dauntless in the clash of arms.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXIV]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords. Now I find for certain that we are drawn along by
                            fate. Who can evade the  decrees of destiny? Could I have thought
                            the conclusion of my life reserved for Ella; when almost  expiring
                            I shed torrents of blood? When I launched forth my ships into the deep?
                            When in the Scottish  gulphs I gained large spoils for the
                            wolves?</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXV]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords: this fills me still with joy, because I know a
                            banquet is preparing by the  father of the gods. Soon, in the
                            splendid hall of Odin, we (shall drink <hi rendition="#smcap">Beer</hi>
                  <note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† <hi rendition="#smcap">Beer</hi> and <hi rendition="#smcap">Mead</hi> were the only nectar of the northern nations.
                                    Odin alone of all the gods was supposed to drink <hi rendition="#smcap">Wine</hi>. 
                                    <hi rend="ital">Vid. Bartholin.</hi>
                  </note> out of the
                            sculls of our  enemies.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="9">
                      One of the most striking images in
                                    Worm’s translation was the phrase <hi rend="ital">ex
                                        concavis crateribus craniorum</hi> (“the hollow 
                                    cavity of the skulls”). These lines were annotated with
                                    the comment: <hi rend="ital">Sperabant heroes se in aula Othini
                                        bibituros ex  craniis eorum quos occiderant</hi>
                                    (“The heroes hoped they would drink in Odin’s hall
                                    from the skulls of those they had  killed”). This
                                    interpretation was based on the misconstruction of a <hi rend="ital">kenning</hi>, i.e. a metaphorical compound
                                    phrase  forming the basis of much skaldic poetry. The Old
                                    Norse <hi rend="ital">ór bjúgviðum
                                        hausa</hi> [literally, “from the curved wood of 
                                    heads”] is simply a substitution for drinking vessels
                                    made from animal bone. This misunderstanding came to play an
                                     unwarranted role in the perception of Viking culture, as
                                    this line was often quoted.</note> A brave man shrinks not
                            at death. I shall utter no repining words as I approach the palace of
                             the gods.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="10">
                      Odin’s Valhalla. The poem
                                    remains somewhat of an aberration in respect to the tradition of
                                    brave heroes going to  Valhalla, since only a few cases in
                                    the whole body of Old Norse literature point to a non-battle
                                    death as making the hero  eligible for a place in
                                    Valhalla.</note>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXVI]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords. O that the sons of Aslauga<note place="here" resp="author" type="original">† Aslauga was his second wife, whom he
                                    married after the death of Thora.</note> knew; O that my
                            children knew the sufferings  of their father! that numerous
                            serpents filled with poison tear me to pieces! Soon would they be here:
                             soon would they wage bitter war with their swords. I gave a mother
                            to my children from whom they  inherit a valiant heart.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XVII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords. Now I touch on my last moments. I receive a deadly
                            hurt from the viper. A  serpent inhabits the hall of my heart. Soon
                            mall my sons black their swords in the blood of Ella. They  wax red
                            with fury: they burn with rage. Those gallant youths will not rest till
                            they have avenged their  father.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXVIII]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">We fought with swords. Battles fifty and one have been fought under my
                            banners. From my early  youth I learnt to dye my sword in crimson:
                            I never yet could find a king more valiant than myself. The  gods
                            now invite me to them. Death is not to be lamented.</p>
               <p rend="noCount" rendition="#center">
                  <label>[XXIX]</label>
               </p>
               <p rend="noCount">‘Tis with joy I cease. The goddesses of destiny are come to fetch
                            me. Odin hath sent them from the  habitation of the gods. I mail be
                            joyfully received into the highest seat; I mall quaff full goblets among
                             the gods. The hours of my life are past away. I die laughing.<note place="foot" resp="editors" n="11"> In the
                                    original, Ragnar’s concluding line, <hi rend="ital">læjandi skalk deyja</hi>, literally translates as
                                    “laughing I shall die”. These  famous last
                                    words were often used to epitomize the idea of northern
                                    death-defiance. An illustration of this is S. 
                                    Ferguson’s translation in <hi rend="ital">Blackwood</hi>’<hi rend="ital">s Edinburgh
                                        Magazine</hi> 33 (1833): 915, which emphasized
                                    Ragnar’s celebration of  death by introducing an
                                    emphatically jubilant interjection (with no basis in either
                                    Norse or Latin source texts): “E’en on  my
                                    dying day,/ I’ll laugh one other laughter yet – /
                                    Yet ere I pass away, Hurrah – hurrah –
                                    hurrah!”</note>
               </p>
            </div>
         </div>
      </body>
   </text>
</TEI>