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第122章

Did the warlocks mingle in it, Thorberg Skafting, any curse?

Could you not be gone a minute But some mischief must be doing, Turning bad to worse?

'T was an ill wind that came wafting, From his homestead words of woe To his farm went Thorberg Skafting, Oft repeating to his workmen, Build ye thus and so.

After long delays returning Came the master back by night To his ship-yard longing, yearning, Hurried he, and did not leave it Till the morning's light.

"Come and see my ship, my darling On the morrow said the King;"Finished now from keel to carling;

Never yet was seen in Norway Such a wondrous thing!"In the ship-yard, idly talking, At the ship the workmen stared:

Some one, all their labor balking, Down her sides had cut deep gashes, Not a plank was spared!

"Death be to the evil-doer!"

With an oath King Olaf spoke;

"But rewards to his pursuer And with wrath his face grew redder Than his scarlet cloak.

Straight the master-builder, smiling, Answered thus the angry King:

"Cease blaspheming and reviling, Olaf, it was Thorberg Skafting Who has done this thing!"Then he chipped and smoothed the planking, Till the King, delighted, swore, With much lauding and much thanking, "Handsomer is now my Dragon Than she was before!"Seventy ells and four extended On the grass the vessel's keel;High above it, gilt and splendid, Rose the figure-head ferocious With its crest of steel.

Then they launched her from the tressels, In the ship-yard by the sea;She was the grandest of all vessels, Never ship was built in Norway Half so fine as she!

The Long Serpent was she christened, 'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer!

They who to the Saga listened Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting For a hundred year!

XIV

THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT

Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay King Olaf's fleet assembled lay, And, striped with white and blue, Downward fluttered sail and banner, As alights the screaming lanner;Lustily cheered, in their wild manner, The Long Serpent's crewHer forecastle man was Ulf the Red, Like a wolf's was his shaggy head, His teeth as large and white;His beard, of gray and russet blended, Round as a swallow's nest descended;As standard-bearer he defended Olaf's flag in the fight.

Near him Kolbiorn had his place, Like the King in garb and face, So gallant and so hale;Every cabin-boy and varlet Wondered at his cloak of scarlet;Like a river, frozen and star-lit, Gleamed his coat of mail.

By the bulkhead, tall and dark, Stood Thrand Rame of Thelemark, A figure gaunt and grand;On his hairy arm imprinted Was an anchor, azure-tinted;Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted Was his brawny hand.

Einar Tamberskelver, bare To the winds his golden hair, By the mainmast stood;Graceful was his form, and slender, And his eyes were deep and tender As a woman's, in the splendor Of her maidenhood.

In the fore-hold Biorn and Bork Watched the sailors at their work:

Heavens! how they swore!

Thirty men they each commanded, Iron-sinewed, horny-handed, Shoulders broad, and chests expanded.

Tugging at the oar.

These, and many more like these, With King Olaf sailed the seas, Till the waters vast Filled them with a vague devotion, With the freedom and the motion, With the roll and roar of ocean And the sounding blast.

When they landed from the fleet, How they roared through Drontheim's street, Boisterous as the gale!

How they laughed and stamped and pounded, Till the tavern roof resounded, And the host looked on astounded As they drank the ale!

Never saw the wild North Sea Such a gallant company Sail its billows blue!

Never, while they cruised and quarrelled, Old King Gorm, or Blue-Tooth Harald, Owned a ship so well apparelled, Boasted such a crew!

XV

A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR

A little bird in the air Is singing of Thyri the fair, The sister of Svend the Dane;And the song of the garrulous bird In the streets of the town is heard, And repeated again and again.

Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other.

To King Burislaf, it is said, Was the beautiful Thyri wed, And a sorrowful bride went she;And after a week and a day, She has fled away and away, From his town by the stormy sea.

Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other.

They say, that through heat and through cold, Through weald, they say, and through wold, By day and by night, they say, She has fled; and the gossips report She has come to King Olaf's court, And the town is all in dismay.

Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other.

It is whispered King Olaf has seen, Has talked with the beautiful Queen;And they wonder how it will end;

For surely, if here she remain, It is war with King Svend the Dane, And King Burislaf the Vend!

Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other.

O, greatest wonder of all!

It is published in hamlet and hall, It roars like a flame that is fanned!

The King--yes, Olaf the King--

Has wedded her with his ring, And Thyri is Queen in the land!

Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other.

XVI

QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS

Northward over Drontheim, Flew the clamorous sea-gulls, Sang the lark and linnet From the meadows green;Weeping in her chamber, Lonely and unhappy, Sat the Drottning Thyri, Sat King Olaf's Queen.

In at all the windows Streamed the pleasant sunshine, On the roof above her Softly cooed the dove;But the sound she heard not, Nor the sunshine heeded, For the thoughts of Thyri Were not thoughts of love,Then King Olaf entered, Beautiful as morning, Like the sun at Easter Shone his happy face;In his hand he carried Angelicas uprooted, With delicious fragrance Filling all the place.

Like a rainy midnight Sat the Drottning Thyri, Even the smile of Olaf Could not cheer her gloom;Nor the stalks he gave her With a gracious gesture, And with words as pleasant As their own perfume.

In her hands he placed them, And her jewelled fingers Through the green leaves glistened Like the dews of morn;But she cast them from her, Haughty and indignant, On the floor she threw them With a look of scorn.

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