Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings by Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Author:Edward Bulwer-Lytton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: history, historical, novel, king harold, anglo-saxon, england, english, britain, british
ISBN: 9781781666029
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2012
Published: 2012-06-14T00:00:00+00:00

Day by day from the rill,

The Nornas besprinkle

The ash Ygg-drassill, 181

The hart bites the buds,

And the snake gnaws the root,

But the eagle all-seeing

Keeps watch on the fruit.

These drops on thy tomb

From the fountain I pour;

With the rune I invoke thee,

With flame I restore.

Dread Father of men,

In the land of thy grave,

Give voice to the Vala,

And light to the Brave."

As she thus chaunted, the Morthwyrtha now sprinkled the drops from the vessel over the bautastein, - now, one by one, cast the fragments of bark scrawled with runes on the fire. Then, whether or not some glutinous or other chemical material had been mingled in the water, a pale gleam broke from the gravestone thus sprinkled, and the whole tomb glistened in the light of the leaping fire. From this light a mist or thin smoke gradually rose, and took, though vaguely, the outline of a vast human form. But so indefinite was the outline to Harold's eye, that gazing on it steadily, and stilling with strong effort his loud heart, he knew not whether it was a phantom or a vapour that he beheld.

The Vala paused, leaning on her staff, and gazing in awe on the glowing stone, while the Earl, with his arms folded on his broad breast, stood hushed and motionless. The sorceress recommenced:

"Mighty dead, I revere thee,

Dim-shaped from the cloud,

With the light of thy deeds

For the web of thy shroud.

As Odin consulted

Mimir's skull hollow-eyed, 182

Odin's heir comes to seek

In the Phantom a guide."

As the Morthwyrtha ceased, the fire crackled loud, and from its flame flew one of the fragments of bark to the feet of the sorceress: - the runic letters all indented with sparks.

The sorceress uttered a loud cry, which, despite his courage and his natural strong sense, thrilled through the Earl's heart to his marrow and bones, so appalling was it with wrath and terror; and while she gazed aghast on the blazing letters, she burst forth:

"No warrior art thou,

And no child of the tomb;

I know thee, and shudder,

Great Asa of Doom.

Thou constrainest my lips

And thou crushest my spell;

Bright Son of the Giant

Dark Father of Hell!" 183

The whole form of the Morthwyrtha then became convulsed and agitated, as if with the tempest of frenzy; the foam gathered to her lips, and her voice rang forth like a shriek:

"In the Iron Wood rages

The Weaver of Harm,

The giant Blood-drinker

Hag-born MANAGARM. 184

A keel nears the shoal;

From the slime and the mud

Crawl the newt and the adder,

The spawn the of flood.

Thou stand'st on the rock

Where the dreamer beheld thee.

O soul, spread thy wings,

Ere the glamour hath spell'd thee.

O, dread is the tempter,

And strong the control;

But conquer'd the tempter,

If firm be the soul"

The Vala paused; and though it was evident that in her frenzy she was still unconscious of Harold's presence, and seemed but to be the compelled and passive voice to some Power, real or imaginary, beyond her own existence, the proud man approached, and said:

"Firm shall be my soul, nor of the dangers which beset it would I ask the dead or the living.

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