Egil’s Saga Read online

  King that earth rang with name of,

  Who erst my words had game of,

  With words (but of the captain

  Of Hamdir’s spear) advanc’d me.

  That was yet another time when Egil gat him to the fire to warm himself, then asked a man of him whether he was cold in the feet, and bade him not stretch them out too near the fire.

  “So shall it be,” saith Egil. “But nought easy is it now for me to steer my feet, when I cannot see: and over-deaflike3 ’tis, this loss of eyesight.” Then quoth Egil:4

  Long meseemeth,

  Laid all alone,

  An old, old carle,

  Far from King’s caring.

  Here’s two cripples,

  Both bitter cold;

  And these women

  Need the warmth.

  That was in the earlier days of Earl Hakon the Great, then was Egil Skallagrimson in the ninth ten-years of his age, and he was then a brisk man for all other sakes save loss of eyesight. That was in the summer when men made ready for the Thing, then asked Egil of Grim to ride to the Thing with him. Grim took that slowly; and when those two, Grim and Thordis, were a-talking together, then said Grim to her what Egil had asked for: “I will that thou find out what dwelleth under this asking”.

  Thordis went to speak with Egil her kinsman: it was then the greatest game to Egil to talk with her: and when she found him, then asked she, “Is that true, kinsman, that thou wilt ride to the Thing? I would thou wouldst say to me what might be in this rede-taking of thine”.

  “I shall say to thee”, quoth he, “what I have thought on. Minded am I to have to the Thing with me those two chests that King Athelstane gave me, that be full each one of them of English silver. I am minded to let bear the chests to the Hill of Laws, then when there is most throng of men there. And then I am minded to sow the silver: and methinks ’twill be wonderful if they all divide it well betwixt ’em. I am minded that there would be then kickings and bufferings, and it might come to that at last that all the Thing should be a-fighting.”

  Thordis saith, “This seemeth to me a rede indeed! and like to be talked of as long as the land is dwelt in”. And now went Thordis to talk with Grim, and said unto him Egil’s rede-taking.

  “That shall never be, that he bring this to pass, so great a villainy!”

  And when Egil came to talk with Grim about faring to the Thing, then Grim talked him off that altogether, and Egil sat at home through the Thing. Nowise liked him well of that. He was somewhat frowning.

  At Mossfell they had hill-dairies, and Thordis was at the hill-dairy during the Thing. That was one evening, then when men made them ready for bed at Mossfell, that Egil called to him two thralls that belonged to Grim. He bade them take him a horse: “I will fare to the baths”. And when Egil was ready, he gat him out, and had with him his silver-chests. He went a-horseback: and now fared down along the home-mead past a brent that was there, when men saw him last. But in the morning when men rose up, then saw they how Egil staggered about on the holt beyond the eastern garth and led after him the horse. Fare they then to him and fetched him home. But neither came back afterward, thralls nor chests; and there be many guesses, where Egil may have hidden his fee.

  Beyond the eastern garth at Mossfelf goeth a gill down out of the fell; but that hath come about to mark there, that in sudden thaws there is there a great waterfall, but after the waters have fallen away, there have been found in the gill English pennies. Some men say from this that Egil will there have hidden his fee. Below the home-mead at Mossfell are big fens and marvellously deep: many have that for true, that Egil will there have cast in his fee. To the south of the river are baths and a short way therefrom big earth-holes; and some say from this, that Egil would there have hidden his fee, because thitherward is often seen howe-fire. Egil said that he had slain Grim’s thralls, and so too, that he had hidden his fee; but that said he to no man, where he had hidden it.

  Egil took a sickness the autumn after, that led him to his bane. And when he was dead, then let Grim put Egil in good clothes, and thereafter let flit him down into Tiltness and make there a howe, and Egil was laid therein and his weapons and clothes.

  CHAPTER LXXXVI. OF THE FINDING OF EGIL’S BONES.

  GRIM of Mossfell was baptized then when Christ’s faith was brought into the law in Iceland. He let make a church there; and that is the saying of men that Thordis hath let flit Egil to church. And there is that for a token, that later, when a church was made at Mossfell and that church taken down at Bushbridge that Grim had let make, then was the church-yard there dug up, and under the altar-place then were found man’s bones. They were much greater than other men’s bones: men think they know from the sayings of old men that that would have been the bones of Egil.

  There was then Skapti Thorarinson the mass-priest,1 a wise man. He took up the skull of Egil and set it in the church-yard. The skull was wonderfully great; yet that seemed more beyond all likelihood, how heavy it was. The skull was all wavy-marked on the outside, like a harp-shell. Then would Skapti find out about the thickness of the skull. Took he then a hand-axe, great enough, and swung it with one hand at his hardest and smote with the hammer on the skull and would break it; but there where the blow came it whitened, but dented not nor split. And one may mark from such things, that that skull would be nought easy-scathed before the hewings of small men, while skin and flesh followed it.

  The bones of Egil were laid in the outer part of the churchyard at Mossfell.

  CHAPTER LXXXVII. OF THE MYRESMEN’S KIN THAT ARE COME OF EGIL’S BLOOD AND LINE.

  THORSTEIN EGILSON took baptism then when Christ’s faith came to Iceland, and let make a church at Burg. He was a troth-fast man and a well mannered. He became an old man, and dead of a sickness, and was laid to earth at Burg at that church which he let make. From Thorstein is a great line come, and a mort of great men, and many skalds; and that is the Myresmen’s kin, and so all that which is come from Skallagrim.

  Long held it in that line, that the men were strong and great fighting men, but some wise of understanding. That was great unlikeness of looks, whereas in that line have been bred up those men who have been fairest in Iceland, as was Thorstein Egilson and Kiartan Olafson, sister’s son to Thorstein, and Hall Gudmundson, so also Helga the Fair, Thorstein’s daughter, whom they strove for, Gunnlaug the Wormtongue and Skald-Hrafn; but the more part of the Myresmen were of men the ugliest.

  Thorgeir, the son of Thorstein, was the strongest of those brethren, but Skuli1 was the biggest; he dwelt at Burg after the days of Thorstein his father. Skuli was long a-viking. He was forecastle-man to Earl Eric on Ironbeak, then when King Olaf Tryggvison fell. Skuli had had a-viking seven battles.

  CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE

  A.D.

  c. 845–50.

  Kveldulf’s children born.

  872.

  Battle of Hafrsfirth.

  874.

  Ingolf settles in Iceland.

  877.

  Fall of Thorolf Kveldulfson.

  879.

  Skallagrim sets up house at Burg.

  901.

  Egil born.

  918.

  Eric Bloodaxe in Biarmaland.

  (?) 927.

  Battle of Winaheath.

  933.

  Death of King Harald Hairfair.

  935.

  Flight of King Eric out of Norway: Hakon Athelstane’s-fosterling taken for King.

  936.

  Egil in York.

  938.

  Egil comes home to Iceland (for 16 years).

  954.

  Fall of King Eric Bloodaxe.

  955.

  Egil’s parting with Arinbiorn.

  956.

  Egil in Vermland.

  960.

  Bodvar drowned. Battle of Fitiar in Stord, and fall of King Hakon.

  (?)970.

  Fall of Arinbiorn with King Harald Greycloak at the Neck.

  973.

  Egil goes to
dwell at Mossfell.

  975–7.

  Strife between Steinar and Thorstein Egilson.

  c. 982.

  Egil’s death.

  NOTE. The exact chronology is in dispute. I have in the main followed F. J.

  LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS

  A.S.

  Anglo-Saxon.

  C.P.B.

  Corpus Poeticum Boreale. Vigfusson and York Powell. (Oxford Univ. Press, 1883: 2 vols.) Ref. by volume and page.

  D.

  Icelandic-English Dictionary. Cleasby and Vigfusson. (Oxford Univ. Press, 1874.)

  Eb.

  Eyrbyggja Saga. Ref. to Morris and Magnússon’s transl. ‘The Ere Dwellers’ (Saga Library: Bernard Quaritch), by chapter.

  Ed.

  Snorri Sturlason’s Edda (the ‘Prose Edda’). Ref. to Finnur Jónsson’s ed. (Reykjavik, 1907) by page.

  F.J.

  Finnur Jónsson’s edition of Egils Saga Skallagrímssonar (Altnordische Saga Bibliothek, 1924). Ref. by page.

  Gisl.

  Gísla Saga Súrssonar. Ref. to Dasent’s ‘Gisli the Outlaw’ (Edmonston and Douglas, Edin. 1866) by chapter.

  Glum.

  Víga-Glúms Saga. Ref. to Vald. Ásmundarson’s ed. (Reykjavik, 1897) by chapter.

  Grett.

  Grettis Saga. Ref. to Morris and Magnússon’s transl. ‘Grettir the Strong’ (Longmans Green and Co., 1900), by chapter.

  Gunnl.

  Gunnlaugs Saga Ormstungu. Ref. to Morris’s transl. ‘Three Northern Love Stories’ (Longmans Green and Co., 1901), by chapter.

  Hak.

  Hakon the Good’s Saga. See Hkr.

  Har. Gr.

  Harald Greycloak’s Saga. See Hkr.

  Har. Hfr.

  Harald Hairfair’s Saga. See Hkr.

  Hen-Th.

  Hen-Thorir’s Saga. Ref. to Morris and Magnússon’s transl. (Saga Library, vol. 1: Bernard Quaritch) by chapter.

  Hfdn.

  Halfdan the Black’s Saga. See Hkr.

  Hkr.

  Snorri Sturlason’s Heimskringla. Morris and Magnússon’s transl. (Saga Library: Bernard Quaritch). Ref. to vol. IV (which contains Notes, Indexes, etc.) by page; otherwise the ref. is to individual sagas by chapter (e.g. Har. Hfr. 1).

  Icel.

  Icelandic.

  Int.

  The Introduction to the present translation.

  Korm.

  Kormák’s Saga. Ref. to Vald. Ásmundarson’s ed. (Reykjavik, 1893) by chapter.

  Landn.

  Landnámabók Islands. Ref. to the Nordiske Oldskriftselskab ed. (Copenhagen, 1925) by paragraph.

  Ld.

  Laxdæla Saga. Ref. to Vald. Ásmundarson’s ed. (Reykjavik, 1895) by chapter.

  Nj.

  Njáls Saga. Ref. to Dasent’s ‘Story of Burnt Njal’ (Edmonston and Douglas, Edin. 1861) by chapter.

  O.E.

  Old English.

  O.E.D.

  The Oxford English Dictionary.

  O.H.

  Olaf the Holy’s Saga. See Hkr.

  O.N.

  Old Norse.

  O.T.

  Olaf Tryggvison’s Saga. See Hkr.

  T.E.

  The Terminal Essay to the present translation.

  Vols.

  Völsunga Saga. Ref. to Morris’s transl, by chapter.

  Yngl.

  Ynglinga Saga. See Hkr.

  TERMINAL ESSAY

  SOME PRINCIPLES OF TRANSLATION

  ENOUGH has been said of the spirit and style of the classical Icelandic saga to make it clear that for an Englishman to render the sagas into his own language is to labour under no alien sky and dig no inhospitable soil. More than that: the Old Northern tongue (called Icelandic because it is only in Iceland that it survives in its purity as a living language, and because it was Icelanders that built up its classic literature of prose and verse) more than any other language resembles our own. The two languages are akin in word, syntax, and idiom. Hundreds of words* are substantially the same in English and Icelandic, and among them great numbers of the simple basic words belonging to things that are close to the roots of all human thought and action. Thus there is likeness of spirit and likeness of language; and a good translation, a recognizable shadow that being looked on recalls the features and movements of its original without much degradation or distortion, is certainly no impossible thing. Yet there are few good translations of sagas: perhaps only two good translators, and all the rest mostly bad. And the reason is, what?

  First, no doubt, there are the stubborn difficulties that stand in the way of all translation. The translator’s problem is to say to us in our own tongue what has been said by someone else in another. If it be a proposition of Euclid, or an engineer’s report on a mine, the difficulties are not serious, provided that the translator knows his two languages. Words are here simply instruments, or tickets denoting certain well-defined ideas: he need but choose his tickets aright, and his work is done.

  But how if he have to translate, for example, this little quatrain of Sappho’s:

  δέδυκε μἐν ά Σελάννα

  καì Πλŋΐαδες, μέσαι δέ

  νύκτες, πάρα δ’ ἔρχετ’ ὤρα,

  ἔγω δἑ μόνα κατεύδω.

  ‘The Moon has set, and the Pleiades, and it is middle night. And the hours go by. But I sleep alone.’ Take, not my pedestrian prose, but the best translation you can discover or poet can make you. What is it beside the poetess’s Greek?

  This, it may be objected, is an extreme instance. Lyric poetry of a high order must always be untranslatable. It expresses so intimately some individual moment in the poet’s experience that it must be unique: rhythm, music of vowel and consonant, all the complex under-tones and over-tones of thought and feeling, are so bound up in the very words of the poet that the same thing can never be said again in another language. I had rather steer clear, though, of the too metaphysical, and say that great poetry and, in a lesser degree, all living speech, with all its play of expression, so personal, so elusively charming, is very hard to translate, and that in practice even the finest translations are but shadows of their originals. (It must be remembered that to translate is here taken to mean the saying of the same thing in another language: not the saying of something rather like it, as FitzGerald did in his lovely Omar Khayyám, or as Longfellow, perhaps, imagined he was doing in his Saga of King Olaf)

  The cardinal difficulty, then, of all translation is the difficulty of translating the living word. And the particular difficulty of translating the sagas is that, while they present this cardinal difficulty in a high degree, they give no warning to the unwary that any difficulty exists at all. The simplicity of the saga, the restraint of it, its homeliness, its stern objective outlook and ignorance of ornament, together with those likenesses between the languages, create a deceptive impression of ease that tempts the translator to his confusion. Mr Green, for instance, tells us in his preface that, “The prose of the Saga presents few difficulties to a translator. Icelandic prose, as regards order of words, is simple, and runs naturally enough into English. The sentences are mostly short and plain. In Egilssaga the style for Icelandic is pronounced by good authorities to be of the best; the translator can only hope that in its English dress it may not have lost all its attractiveness”. In that hope he proceeds placidly along a path of which the following is perhaps a sufficient glimpse*: “These, when they were aware of the enemy, gathered themselves and advanced to meet them, expecting victory as heretofore. But, on the battle being joined, the Norsemen charged furiously forwards, bearing shields stronger than those of the Kvens; the slaughter turned to be in the Kiriales’ ranks—many fell, some fled. King Faravid and Thorolf took there immense wealth of spoil, and returned to Kvenland, whence afterwards Thorolf and his men came to Finmark, he and Faravid parting in friendship”. The best translation is but a shadow. The worst, as here, traduces and defames the original, as if the ass should posture in the lion’s sk
in. And that is a pure misfortune; seeing that those who cannot look on the lion’s self, and who make small account of asses, may by such a spectacle be brought to the mistaken opinion that of lions also small account is to be made.

  Indeed it is certain that the translation of the Icelandic classics is not a task well suited to the perfunctory efforts of well-meaning persons with a taste for history and archaeology but innocent of any feeling for language or style. A translator who with a more angelic caution approaches these quicksands will escape the grosser errors whereby the Icelandic is made to run so ‘naturally’ not into English but into the jargon of the schoolboy’s crib. If he avails himself to the uttermost of the resemblances between the languages, it is within the bounds of possibility that he may succeed in producing an English version of a saga which shall convey in some degree the style and flavour of the original. If, from whatever motive, he ignores these resemblances, he is like a gardener who, wishing to grow rhododendrons and having a soil of sand and peat, digs up and throws away this suitable soil and at much pains substitutes chalk and clay. His translation will be as dead as the rhododendrons. But even supposing he uses all these advantages and avoids these errors, he will yet be fain to say at last (with Dasent, in the preface to his fine translation of Njála), “Even now, after all that has been done to make the rendering faithful, the translator lays it with dread before the public, not because he has any doubt as to the beauty of his original, but because he is in despair, lest any shortcomings of his own should mar the noble features of the masterpiece which it has been his care to copy”.