THE next three years Gisli was sometimes in his house at
Geirthiofsfirth, and sometimes with Thorkel the Wealthy, harboured by stealth.
Other three years he spent in roaming over the land, and going from house to
house asking help and countenance from great chiefs; but something always
tripped him up everywhere, so that naught came of it. So mighty was that spell
that Thorgrim's witchcraft had thrown on him that it was fated no chief should
shelter him, and no one ever went heartily into his cause. After those six
years were over he spent his time for the most part in Geirthiofsfirth,
sometimes in his house, over which Auda ruled, and sometimes in the
hiding-place which he had hollowed out for himself. That was on the north bank
of the river. But he had another lair on the south bank among the crags, and
there he lurked for the most part.
Now
when Bork hears this, he set off from home, and seeks Eyjolf the Gray, who then
dwelt in Arnarfirth in Otterdale, and begs him to hunt for Gisli, and slay him
as an outlaw, and if he slew him, he said he would give him three hundreds in
silver of the very best, and bade him leave no stone unturned to find him out.
He takes the money, and gives his word to do his best. There was a man with
Eyjolf named Helgi--Spy-Helgi by nickname; he was both swift of foot and sharp
of eye, and he knew every inch of the firths. This man is sent to
Geirthiofsfirth to find out if Gisli be there. He soon is aware of a man in
hiding, but he knows not whether it be Gisli or another. So he goes back and
tells Eyjolf how things stand. Eyjolf says at once it must be Gisli, and loses
no time, but sets off with six men for Geirthiofsfirth; but he cannot find
Gisli, and goes bootless back.
Gisli
was a foresighted man and a great dreamer, and dreamt true. All wise men are of
one mind that Gisli lived an outlaw longest of all men, save Grettir, the son
of Osmund. Eighteen years was Grettir an outlaw. It is told that one autumn
night Gisli was very restless as he slept, while he was in Auda's house, and
when he wakes she asks him what he had dreamt?
The Dream-wife
"I have two women who are with me in my dreams," he answers; "one is good to me, but the other tells me naught but evil, and her tale is every day worse and worse, and she spaes me downright ruin. But what I just dreamed was this: Methought I came to a house or hall, and into that hall I went, and there I saw many of my friends and kinsfolk: they sat by fires and drank. There were. seven fires; some had burnt very low, but some still burned as bright as bright could be. Then in came my better dream-wife, and said these were tokens of my life, how much of it was still to come; and she counselled me so long as I lived to leave all old unbeliefs and witchcraft, and to be good to the deaf and the halt, and the poor and the weak. "Bear in mind," she said, "thou hast so many years yet to live as thou sawest fires alight." My dream was no longer than that. Then Gisli chaunted several staves:
"Fires
seven, the bard remembers,
Lady, blazed within that hall;
Men around those glowing embers
Sate and drank like brothers all.
One and all those inmates gladly
Greeted Gisli as their guest;
Gisli hailed them soft and sadly,
Fitting words his thanks expressed.
Lady, blazed within that hall;
Men around those glowing embers
Sate and drank like brothers all.
One and all those inmates gladly
Greeted Gisli as their guest;
Gisli hailed them soft and sadly,
Fitting words his thanks expressed.
"Thus
that weird wife, wise and witty,
Spoke, and said to Norway's friend--
Soft her voice and full of pity,--
'Man! behold thy journey's end;
Mark those seven fires burning,
Seven years to thee remain;
Then, to this abode returning,
Make thee merry, free from pain.'
Spoke, and said to Norway's friend--
Soft her voice and full of pity,--
'Man! behold thy journey's end;
Mark those seven fires burning,
Seven years to thee remain;
Then, to this abode returning,
Make thee merry, free from pain.'
"'Noble man!' the voice continues,
'Shun the wizard's hateful lore;
Hero bold, of strongest sinews,
Seek the muse's golden store.
Bear in mind this precept hoary--
Naught so much defileth hearts
As wicked wit, as idle story;
Vile is witchcraft, black her arts.
'Shun the wizard's hateful lore;
Hero bold, of strongest sinews,
Seek the muse's golden store.
Bear in mind this precept hoary--
Naught so much defileth hearts
As wicked wit, as idle story;
Vile is witchcraft, black her arts.
"'Stay
thy hand, be slow to slaughter;
Rouse not men to seek thy life:
Come! thy word to wisdom's daughter
Be not first in stirring strife.
Man of noble nature, ever
Help the weak, the halt, the blind;
Hard the hand that opens never,
Bright and blest the generous mind.'"
Rouse not men to seek thy life:
Come! thy word to wisdom's daughter
Be not first in stirring strife.
Man of noble nature, ever
Help the weak, the halt, the blind;
Hard the hand that opens never,
Bright and blest the generous mind.'"
Now
Bork presses Eyjolf hard, and thinks he has not done so much as he said he
would, and that there had been small return for the silver he had given him. He
said he was quite sure Gisli was in Geirthiofsfirth, and if Eyjolf did not send
some one to take Gisli's life, Bork said he must come and hunt him down
himself: "For 'tis a shame that two such champions and chiefs as we think
ourselves cannot get Gisli put out of the way."
Eyjolf
was all alive again, and sends Spy-Helgi again round Geirthiofsfirth; and now
he takes food with him, and is away a week, and lies in wait to catch sight of
Gisli. At last one day he sees a man come out of a hiding-place, and knows
Gisli at once. As soon as he sees him he goes back and tells Eyjolf what he had
seen.
Now
Eyjolf sets off with eight men, and makes for Auda's house in Geirthiofsfirth;
but they do not find Gisli there, and now they beat all the thickets
thereabouts, and still cannot find Gisli. Then they go back to Auda's house,
and Eyjolf offers her a great sum of money if she will betray Gisli; but she
would do nothing of the kind. Then they threatened to maim her, but it was all
no good, and they had to go back as wise as they came. This was thought a most
shameful journey for them; and Eyjolf stays at home all that autumn.
But
though Gisli had not been hunted down, he sees plain enough that he must be
taken, and that very soon, if he stays there. So he breaks up from home, and
goes along the coast to Strand, and rides to see his brother Thorkel at
"the Combe." He knocks at the door of the sleeping-house in which
Thorkel is abed, and he gets up, goes out, and greets Gisli.
"I
want to know, now," said Gisli, "if thou wilt yield me any help? I
look to thee for comfort and countenance, for now I am hard pressed, and I have
forborne to do this for a long time."
But
Thorkel gave him the old answer, and said outright he would give him no help
that might get himself into trouble. Silver and horses he would give him, if he
needed them, or anything else, as he said before, but nothing besides.
"Now
I see," said Gisli, "that thou wilt not help me. Give me now three
hundred in wadmel, and make up your mind that henceforth I shall not often ask
thy aid."
Thorkel
does as he wishes, and gives him the woollen and some silver. Gisli said he would
take what was given him, but added he would not behave so meanly were he in
Thorkel's place. At their parting Gisli was very down-hearted.
Now
he goes out to Vadil, to the mother of Gest, the son of Oddleif, and reaches
her house before dawn, and knocks at the door. The housewife goes to the door.
She was often wont to harbour outlaws, and she had an underground room. One end
of it opened on the river-bank and the other below her hall. One way see the
ruins of it still. Thorgerda--for that was heir name--made Gisli welcome.
"I am willing enough thou shouldest stay here awhile, but I am sure I
can't tell whether this is not mere old wife's talk."
Old
wife's talk or not, Gisli was willing to take it as it was meant, and said he
had not been so well treated by men that better things were not to be hoped for
from women.
So
Gisli stays there that winter, and he was never better cared for in all his
outlawry than there.
As
soon as ever the spring came Gisli fares back to Geirthiofsfirth, for he could
not bear to be any longer away from Auda his wife, so much they loved each
other. He is there that summer by stealth, and up to autumn. And now as the
nights lengthen the dreams lengthen with them, and that worse dream-wife comes
oftener and oftener to him, and he has hard nights. Once he says to Auda, when
she asks him what he had dreamt, and his answer was in verse:
"A
weary wife now haunts my slumber;
If dreams be true, as oft they be,
Not many winters shall I number,
No tongue shall 'Graybeard!' shout to me:
This dream-wife bids me peak and pine,
Vain 'tis to try to break her spell
But little care I, darling mine!
I dream, but slumber soft and well."
If dreams be true, as oft they be,
Not many winters shall I number,
No tongue shall 'Graybeard!' shout to me:
This dream-wife bids me peak and pine,
Vain 'tis to try to break her spell
But little care I, darling mine!
I dream, but slumber soft and well."
And now he tells her that that worse dream-wife was ever coming to him, and wishing to sprinkle blood over him, and to smear and bathe him in it; and that she looked spitefully on him. Then he chaunted:
"Still
my dreams are heavy-hearted,
Still my evil genius lowers;
All my mirth hath clean departed,
Mine no more are blithesome hours:
Sleep no sooner seals my eyelids
Than a loathly wife appears,
Bathed in blood and gore-bedabbled,
Drenching me with dew of spears." 1
Still my evil genius lowers;
All my mirth hath clean departed,
Mine no more are blithesome hours:
Sleep no sooner seals my eyelids
Than a loathly wife appears,
Bathed in blood and gore-bedabbled,
Drenching me with dew of spears." 1
And again he chaunted:
"Darling
wife, I now have uttered
All my mind about my dreams
Nothing hidden, nothing muttered,
Words of truth welled out in streams:
Wrath now riseth hour by hour,
Worse my foes shall feel my hand--
High-born chiefs, whose haughty power,
Marked me with an outlaw's brand."
All my mind about my dreams
Nothing hidden, nothing muttered,
Words of truth welled out in streams:
Wrath now riseth hour by hour,
Worse my foes shall feel my hand--
High-born chiefs, whose haughty power,
Marked me with an outlaw's brand."
Footnotes
1
Periphrasis for blood.
----------------------
From: The Story/Saga of Gisli the Outlaw
Translated
From The Icelandic Sir George Webbe Dasent D.C.L. With Illustrations By C. E.
St. John-Mildmay
ISBN: 978-1-907256-46-2

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