Introductory Note
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Bellows, Henry Adams
Baldrs Draumar is found only in the Arnamagnæan Codex, where it follows the Harbarthsljoth fragment. It is preserved in various late paper manuscripts, with the title Vegtamskvitha (The Lay of Vegtam), which has been used by some editors.
The poem, which contains but fourteen stanzas, has apparently been preserved in excellent condition. Its subject-matter and style link it closely with the Voluspo. Four of the five lines of stanza 11 appear, almost without change, in the Voluspo, 32–33, and the entire poem is simply an elaboration of the episode outlined in those and the preceding stanzas. It has been suggested that Baldrs Draumar and the Voluspo may have been by the same author. There is also enough similarity in style between Baldrs Draumar and the Thrymskvitha (note especially the opening stanza) to give color to Vigfusson’s guess that these two poems had a common authorship. In any case, Baldrs Draumar presumably assumed its present form not later than the first half of the tenth century.
Whether the Volva (wise-woman) of the poem is identical with the speaker in the Voluspo is purely a matter for conjecture. Nothing definitely opposes such a supposition. As in the longer poem she foretells the fall of the gods, so in this case she prophesies the first incident of that fall, the death of Baldr. Here she is called up from the dead by Othin, anxious to know the meaning of Baldr’s evil dreams; in the Voluspo it is likewise intimated that the Volva has risen from the grave.
The poem, like most of the others in the collection, is essentially dramatic rather than narrative, summarizing a story which was doubtless familiar to every one who heard the poem recited.
1. Once were the gods | together met,
And the goddesses came | and council held, [196]
And the far-famed ones | the truth would find,
Why baleful dreams | to Baldr had come.
2. Then Othin rose, | the enchanter old,
And the saddle he laid | on Sleipnir’s back;
Thence rode he down | to Niflhel deep,
And the hound he met | that came from hell.
3. Bloody he was | on his breast before,
At the father of magic | he howled from afar;
Forward rode Othin, | the earth resounded
Till the house so high | of Hel he reached.
4. Then Othin rode | to the eastern door,
There, he knew well, | was the wise-woman’s grave;
Magic he spoke | and mighty charms,
Till spell-bound she rose, | and in death she spoke:
[197]
5. “What is the man, | to me unknown,
That has made me travel | the troublous road?
I was snowed on with snow, | and smitten with rain,
And drenched with dew; | long was I dead.”
Othin spake:
6. “Vegtam my name, | I am Valtam’s son;
Speak thou of hell, | for of heaven I know:
For whom are the benches | bright with rings,
And the platforms gay | bedecked with gold?”
The Wise-Woman spake:
7. “Here for Baldr | the mead is brewed,
The shining drink, | and a shield lies o’er it;
But their hope is gone | from the mighty gods.
Unwilling I spake, | and now would be still.”
[198]
Othin spake:
8. “Wise-woman, cease not! | I seek from thee
All to know | that I fain would ask:
Who shall the bane | of Baldr become,