The legends dealing definitely with the Volsungs begin with the story of Odin’s son Sigi, who was driven into exile because he had killed the thrall of another man of high degree, and who later won for himself a kingdom in Hunaland. In the end he was betrayed and put to death by his own brothers-in-law. His son Rerir became king in his stead, avenged the murder of his father, and won great renown for his own prowess in war. Rerir and his wife, deeply grieved, at their childless state, prayed devoutly to the gods to grant children to them. Frigg and Odin heard their prayers, and Odin sent his Valkyrie Ljod, daughter of the Giant Rimnir, to carry an apple as a gift to the king. The queen ate of it, and their wishes were fulfilled. But for the space of six years she remained unable to give birth to the child; the king meanwhile died and the queen at length, weary of days, caused the child to be cut from her side in order to save its life. It was a large and well-shaped boy. He gave his mother a kiss before she died. He got the name Volsung and became king of Hunaland after his father. With his wife Ljod, who had brought the apple to Rerir, he had a daughter named Signy and ten sons; the eldest and bravest of them all was Sigmund, twin brother to Signy. The Volsungs, as they came to be called, excelled all other men in all manner of prowess and manly sports. King Volsung caused a great and splendid hall to be built, in the midst of which stood a tall tree, stretching its fruitful boughs out over the roof; this tree they called the Stem of the Children.
A mighty king, Siggeir of Gautland, paid court to Signy and secured the promise of her hand from Volsung and his sons, against her own will. The marriage was celebrated with great pomp in king Volsung’s hall. While the festival was in progress an old, one-eyed man with a broad hat on his head came into the hall and thrust a sword into the Stem of the Children up to the hilt, with the words that he who proved able to draw it out again should have it as a gift and would find f or a certainty that he had never laid eyes on a better sword. Thereupon he went out of the door; it was Odin in disguise, and no one knew whence he came or whither he went away. The guests all tried to draw the sword but to no avail; at last Sigmund came forward and pulled it out at the first trial. Every man praised the sword, all avowing that they had never seen one so good. Siggeir offered Sigmund for it three times its weight in gold, but Sigmund said: “You might have drawn it forth as well as I; I will not sell it for all the gold in the world.” At these words Siggeir became incensed and at once began to meditate revenge.
The next day Siggeir made it known that he intended to take his departure while the weather was still fair, at the same time inviting king Volsung and his sons to pay him a visit after an interval of three months, on which occasion, he added, they might make up for what they were now losing of the marriage feast by reason of his early leave-taking. Signy said to her father that she was reluctant to go away with Siggeir and that she could foresee great misfortunes as the aftermath of the wedding; but Volsung brushed aside her misgivings with fair words, consoling her as best he could. Siggeir took his departure, and three months later Volsung and his sons set out on their voyage with three well-manned ships. On their arrival in Gautland late one evening, Signy hastened to meet them with the tidings that Siggeir had mustered against them a great army, meaning to play them false. Volsung nevertheless would entertain no thought of flight but marched up into the land to face Siggeir’s hosts, who at once attacked him. Volsung and his sons fought with great courage; eight times they broke Siggeir’s lines, but the ninth time they were worsted, Volsung himself was slain, and his ten sons were taken prisoner. Siggeir meant to put them to death, but Signy persuaded him to expose them out in the forest with their feet bound to a stake, so that she might have, at least for a time, the pleasure of beholding their features. Siggeir did as she wished. But during the night Siggeir’s old mother, who was skilled in sorcery, transformed herself into a she-wolf, bit one of the brothers to death, and ate his body; she did likewise during each of the following nights until Sigmund alone remained alive. Signy, who had appointed watchmen to bring her news of all that happened, now caused Sigmund’s face to be smeared with honey. When the she-wolf came again and smelled the honey, she began to lap it up; when she reached Sigmund’s mouth, he seized her tongue in his teeth and thus held her fast. The wolf in attempting to escape thrust her feet against the stake; but the stake sprang asunder, the wolf’s tongue was torn from her jaws so that she died forthwith, and Sigmund regained his freedom. Signy, learning what had befallen, herself went out to see him, and conspired with him that he was to build himself an earth house in the forest and that Signy was to carry to him anything that he might need. Siggeir now believed that all of the Volsungs were dead.
Signy and Sigmund kept pondering upon some suitable form of revenge. Signy had borne two sons to Siggeir. When the eldest of these was ten years of age, she sent him out to the forest to give Sigmund any assistance that he might require. One day Sigmund asked the boy to knead dough for bread and for this purpose gave him a sack of meal. On returning Sigmund found that the boy had done nothing; he had been afraid to touch the sack because some living thing stirred within it. Now Sigmund knew that the boy lacked the required courage, and he said as much to his sister. “Kill him then,” answered Signy; “he does not deserve to live.” Sigmund did so. The next year Signy sent her second son, and he fared likewise. She then got a witch to exchange shapes with her and in this guise she herself went out to her brother, who failed to recognize her. After remaining with him three nights she returned home and assumed her former likeness once more. Some time later she gave birth to a large, strong, and handsome son, who was given the name of Sinfjotli and who in all respects resembled the Volsungs. When he reached the age of ten, she sent him out to Sigmund. Meanwhile she had put him to the same tests she had used in the case of the other sons: she had sewed their kirtles fast to their arms through skin and flesh; the two elder sons had complained, but Sinfjotli when his turn came gave no sign. She tore his kirtle off so that his skin came away with the sleeves, but he paid no heed. “That is a small matter to one of the Volsungs,” were his only words. When he arrived at Sigmund’s house he was set to kneading the dough, the same task that had been given to his older brothers. When Sigmund returned home, Sinfjotli had already baked the bread. Sigmund asked if he had not found something in the meal. “Yes, it seemed to me at first that there was some living thing in it, but I kneaded the whole into one mass,” answered Sinfjotli. “You have kneaded into the meal a most venomous serpent,” said Sigmund; “and you will have to eat that very bread this evening.” As it happened, there was this difference between father and son, that while Sigmund was able to swallow poison without suffering the least harm, Sinfjotli on the other hand was able to endure poison only on the surface of his body but could not eat or drink it unhurt.
Sigmund deeming Sinfjotli still too young to assist in carrying out his revenge, determined first to accustom him to dangers and difficulties, and to this end took the boy with him on robber forays during several summers. Still having no inkling that the boy was not the son of Siggeir, he was amazed at Sinfjotli’s often putting him in mind of his purposed vengeance on Siggeir. On one occasion they came across a house in the forest where two men lay sleeping with great gold rings on their fingers, two princes who had been turned into wolves and who were able to cast off their wolfish likeness once in ten days, and no oftener. This happened to be one of the days, and their wolf pelts hung above them as they slept. Sigmund and Sinfjotli sprang into the pelts and thereafter roved about a long time in the guise of wolves, doing what harm they could do throughout Siggeir’s domains. Each tenth day they became men again. Once Sigmund chanced to bite Sinfjotli’s throat so hard that he lay a long while seemingly dead; Sigmund fell to cursing the wolf’s clothing, but as he did so he caught sight of an ermine biting another to death and waking the dead to life again by means of a leaf. Sigmund did likewise to Sinfjotli, who immediately came to life; they went up to the earth house, waited till the time once more came for the shifting of shapes, and then burned the wolf’s pelts, for which they had no further use.
When Sinfjotli had no more than reached man’s estate, Sigmund led him to Siggeir’s house for the purpose of carrying out his revenge. Having agreed with Signy that the hour of vengeance was to strike during the night, they hid themselves in the anteroom. Meanwhile the two small children of Signy and Siggeir were running about the floor of the hall, playing with gold rings. One of the golden bands rolled out into the anteroom where Sigmund and Sinfjotli were sitting, and the boy who ran to pick up the ring caught sight of two tall, hard-favored men in broad helmets and gleaming byrnies. The boy hurried away to tell his father what he had seen. Siggeir at once had his misgivings; but Signy led the two little children out into the anteroom and asked Sigmund to kill them so that they should tell no more tales. Sigmund would not do her bidding, but Sinfjotli killed them both and threw their bodies out into the hall. The king started up and gave commands to seize the men sitting in the anteroom; after a long and brave struggle, Sigmund and Sinfjotli were taken captive, bound fast, and placed in the midst of a huge pile of stones and turf in such a manner that a large stone slab set on end in the middle of the heap separated them. Just as the last pieces of turf were being laid over the mound, Signy came forward and tossed an armful of straw down to Sinfjotli. In the bundle of straw was hidden a piece of meat, within which lay Sinfjotli’s sword, a blade capable of cutting stone as easily as wood. Sinfjotli told Sigmund what had happened, and Sigmund was very glad. Sinfjotli now thrust the point of the sword over the upper edge of the slab so that Sigmund could seize hold of it; in this manner they were able to shear the slab in two from top to bottom, and so they found themselves side by side in the mound. Then they severed their own fetters and cut their way out of the mound itself. They now went straight to the king’s hall, heaped up wood round about it, and set it on fire; the hall immediately burst into flames, before any who were within knew what was going on. At length Siggeir woke out of sleep and at once understood it all. Sigmund bade Signy make her escape from the hall, but she answered: “Now I have taken full vengeance against Siggeir for the death of my father Volsung; I caused our children to lose their lives, I went to Sigmund in the shape of a witch, and Sinfjotli is his son and mine. I have done all in my power to end the days of Siggeir; now I will die with him as gladly as I once lived with him unwillingly.” She kissed Sigmund and Sinfjotli, and then entered the hall and allowed herself to perish in the flames together with Siggeir and his whole retinue. Sigmund and Sinfjotli mustered a band of men, took ship and set sail to the kingdom which Volsung once ruled over. There Sigmund took the government into his own hands and came to be a mighty and a famous king.
A mighty king, Siggeir of Gautland, paid court to Signy and secured the promise of her hand from Volsung and his sons, against her own will. The marriage was celebrated with great pomp in king Volsung’s hall. While the festival was in progress an old, one-eyed man with a broad hat on his head came into the hall and thrust a sword into the Stem of the Children up to the hilt, with the words that he who proved able to draw it out again should have it as a gift and would find f or a certainty that he had never laid eyes on a better sword. Thereupon he went out of the door; it was Odin in disguise, and no one knew whence he came or whither he went away. The guests all tried to draw the sword but to no avail; at last Sigmund came forward and pulled it out at the first trial. Every man praised the sword, all avowing that they had never seen one so good. Siggeir offered Sigmund for it three times its weight in gold, but Sigmund said: “You might have drawn it forth as well as I; I will not sell it for all the gold in the world.” At these words Siggeir became incensed and at once began to meditate revenge.
The next day Siggeir made it known that he intended to take his departure while the weather was still fair, at the same time inviting king Volsung and his sons to pay him a visit after an interval of three months, on which occasion, he added, they might make up for what they were now losing of the marriage feast by reason of his early leave-taking. Signy said to her father that she was reluctant to go away with Siggeir and that she could foresee great misfortunes as the aftermath of the wedding; but Volsung brushed aside her misgivings with fair words, consoling her as best he could. Siggeir took his departure, and three months later Volsung and his sons set out on their voyage with three well-manned ships. On their arrival in Gautland late one evening, Signy hastened to meet them with the tidings that Siggeir had mustered against them a great army, meaning to play them false. Volsung nevertheless would entertain no thought of flight but marched up into the land to face Siggeir’s hosts, who at once attacked him. Volsung and his sons fought with great courage; eight times they broke Siggeir’s lines, but the ninth time they were worsted, Volsung himself was slain, and his ten sons were taken prisoner. Siggeir meant to put them to death, but Signy persuaded him to expose them out in the forest with their feet bound to a stake, so that she might have, at least for a time, the pleasure of beholding their features. Siggeir did as she wished. But during the night Siggeir’s old mother, who was skilled in sorcery, transformed herself into a she-wolf, bit one of the brothers to death, and ate his body; she did likewise during each of the following nights until Sigmund alone remained alive. Signy, who had appointed watchmen to bring her news of all that happened, now caused Sigmund’s face to be smeared with honey. When the she-wolf came again and smelled the honey, she began to lap it up; when she reached Sigmund’s mouth, he seized her tongue in his teeth and thus held her fast. The wolf in attempting to escape thrust her feet against the stake; but the stake sprang asunder, the wolf’s tongue was torn from her jaws so that she died forthwith, and Sigmund regained his freedom. Signy, learning what had befallen, herself went out to see him, and conspired with him that he was to build himself an earth house in the forest and that Signy was to carry to him anything that he might need. Siggeir now believed that all of the Volsungs were dead.
Signy and Sigmund kept pondering upon some suitable form of revenge. Signy had borne two sons to Siggeir. When the eldest of these was ten years of age, she sent him out to the forest to give Sigmund any assistance that he might require. One day Sigmund asked the boy to knead dough for bread and for this purpose gave him a sack of meal. On returning Sigmund found that the boy had done nothing; he had been afraid to touch the sack because some living thing stirred within it. Now Sigmund knew that the boy lacked the required courage, and he said as much to his sister. “Kill him then,” answered Signy; “he does not deserve to live.” Sigmund did so. The next year Signy sent her second son, and he fared likewise. She then got a witch to exchange shapes with her and in this guise she herself went out to her brother, who failed to recognize her. After remaining with him three nights she returned home and assumed her former likeness once more. Some time later she gave birth to a large, strong, and handsome son, who was given the name of Sinfjotli and who in all respects resembled the Volsungs. When he reached the age of ten, she sent him out to Sigmund. Meanwhile she had put him to the same tests she had used in the case of the other sons: she had sewed their kirtles fast to their arms through skin and flesh; the two elder sons had complained, but Sinfjotli when his turn came gave no sign. She tore his kirtle off so that his skin came away with the sleeves, but he paid no heed. “That is a small matter to one of the Volsungs,” were his only words. When he arrived at Sigmund’s house he was set to kneading the dough, the same task that had been given to his older brothers. When Sigmund returned home, Sinfjotli had already baked the bread. Sigmund asked if he had not found something in the meal. “Yes, it seemed to me at first that there was some living thing in it, but I kneaded the whole into one mass,” answered Sinfjotli. “You have kneaded into the meal a most venomous serpent,” said Sigmund; “and you will have to eat that very bread this evening.” As it happened, there was this difference between father and son, that while Sigmund was able to swallow poison without suffering the least harm, Sinfjotli on the other hand was able to endure poison only on the surface of his body but could not eat or drink it unhurt.
Sigmund deeming Sinfjotli still too young to assist in carrying out his revenge, determined first to accustom him to dangers and difficulties, and to this end took the boy with him on robber forays during several summers. Still having no inkling that the boy was not the son of Siggeir, he was amazed at Sinfjotli’s often putting him in mind of his purposed vengeance on Siggeir. On one occasion they came across a house in the forest where two men lay sleeping with great gold rings on their fingers, two princes who had been turned into wolves and who were able to cast off their wolfish likeness once in ten days, and no oftener. This happened to be one of the days, and their wolf pelts hung above them as they slept. Sigmund and Sinfjotli sprang into the pelts and thereafter roved about a long time in the guise of wolves, doing what harm they could do throughout Siggeir’s domains. Each tenth day they became men again. Once Sigmund chanced to bite Sinfjotli’s throat so hard that he lay a long while seemingly dead; Sigmund fell to cursing the wolf’s clothing, but as he did so he caught sight of an ermine biting another to death and waking the dead to life again by means of a leaf. Sigmund did likewise to Sinfjotli, who immediately came to life; they went up to the earth house, waited till the time once more came for the shifting of shapes, and then burned the wolf’s pelts, for which they had no further use.
When Sinfjotli had no more than reached man’s estate, Sigmund led him to Siggeir’s house for the purpose of carrying out his revenge. Having agreed with Signy that the hour of vengeance was to strike during the night, they hid themselves in the anteroom. Meanwhile the two small children of Signy and Siggeir were running about the floor of the hall, playing with gold rings. One of the golden bands rolled out into the anteroom where Sigmund and Sinfjotli were sitting, and the boy who ran to pick up the ring caught sight of two tall, hard-favored men in broad helmets and gleaming byrnies. The boy hurried away to tell his father what he had seen. Siggeir at once had his misgivings; but Signy led the two little children out into the anteroom and asked Sigmund to kill them so that they should tell no more tales. Sigmund would not do her bidding, but Sinfjotli killed them both and threw their bodies out into the hall. The king started up and gave commands to seize the men sitting in the anteroom; after a long and brave struggle, Sigmund and Sinfjotli were taken captive, bound fast, and placed in the midst of a huge pile of stones and turf in such a manner that a large stone slab set on end in the middle of the heap separated them. Just as the last pieces of turf were being laid over the mound, Signy came forward and tossed an armful of straw down to Sinfjotli. In the bundle of straw was hidden a piece of meat, within which lay Sinfjotli’s sword, a blade capable of cutting stone as easily as wood. Sinfjotli told Sigmund what had happened, and Sigmund was very glad. Sinfjotli now thrust the point of the sword over the upper edge of the slab so that Sigmund could seize hold of it; in this manner they were able to shear the slab in two from top to bottom, and so they found themselves side by side in the mound. Then they severed their own fetters and cut their way out of the mound itself. They now went straight to the king’s hall, heaped up wood round about it, and set it on fire; the hall immediately burst into flames, before any who were within knew what was going on. At length Siggeir woke out of sleep and at once understood it all. Sigmund bade Signy make her escape from the hall, but she answered: “Now I have taken full vengeance against Siggeir for the death of my father Volsung; I caused our children to lose their lives, I went to Sigmund in the shape of a witch, and Sinfjotli is his son and mine. I have done all in my power to end the days of Siggeir; now I will die with him as gladly as I once lived with him unwillingly.” She kissed Sigmund and Sinfjotli, and then entered the hall and allowed herself to perish in the flames together with Siggeir and his whole retinue. Sigmund and Sinfjotli mustered a band of men, took ship and set sail to the kingdom which Volsung once ruled over. There Sigmund took the government into his own hands and came to be a mighty and a famous king.
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