‘That is well composed,’ said the king, ‘and now compose another verse and make one into Thor and the other into the giant Geirrod, and nevertheless identify each one’s trade.’
Then Thjodolf spoke a verse:
12. Thor of the great bellows threw Thor of the bellows: the blacksmith
from the malicious town
of taunts jaw-lightning town of taunts: mouth; jaw-lightning: abusive words;
at the giant of goat-flesh. giant (i.e. enemy) of goat-flesh: the tanner;
Gladsome Geirrod of the worn
skin-scraper from Thor’s forge took Geirrod of the… skin-scraper: the tanner; forge: mouth
with sound-grippers sparks sound-grippers: ears
from that smithy of spells. smithy of spells: mouth; its sparks: abusive words
‘You’re not over-praised,’ said the king, ‘when you’re called a master-poet.’
And they all applauded the verses as well composed. Halli was not present. And that evening when people sat drinking they recited the verses for Halli, and said that he could not compose like that even though he thought himself a very good poet.
Halli said that he knew he made worse poetry than Thjodolf did – ‘I’ll fall especially short, if I don’t try to compose a verse, and even more so if I am not present.’
This was reported to the king and represented that Halli thought himself to be no less a poet than Thjodolf.
The king said that Halli would probably not be that – ‘but it may be that we can put him to the test soon’.
4 One day when people were sitting at table, a dwarf named Tuta came into the hall. He was Frisian by descent. He had been with King Harald for a very long time. He was no taller than a three-year-old child, but was very thick-set and broad-shouldered; he had a large, elderly-looking head, his back was not noticeably short, but below, where his legs were, he was cropped.
King Harald had a coat of mail which he called Emma. He had had it made in Byzantium. It was so long that it reached down to King Harald’s shoes when he stood upright. It was all of double thickness and so strong that no weapon ever pierced it. The king ordered the dwarf to be dressed in the coat of mail and had a helmet placed on his head, and he girded a sword on him. After that Tuta walked into the hall as was written above and the man seemed a wonder.
The king called for silence and then announced: ‘The man who composes a poem about the dwarf which to me seems well composed will receive this knife and belt from me’ – and he laid them on the table before him – ‘but understand clearly that if I think the poem is not well composed, he will have my displeasure as well as lose both possessions.’
And as soon as the king had made his announcement, a man on the outermost bench composed a poem, and he was Sarcastic Halli.
3. A kinsman of the Frisians’ clan
appears to me in chain-mail clothed.
Decked out with a helmet, the dwarf
goes round the court in ring-mail.
At dawn he never flees the fire,
our Tuta, veteran of many kitchen raids.
I see swinging by the side
of the rye-bread’s waster a sword.
The king ordered the prizes to be given to Halli – ‘and you are to have them by right because the verse is well composed’.
One day when the king was finished eating, he struck the table with the handle of his knife and ordered the tables to be cleared. The servers did so. Halli was far from being satisfied, so he took a chop from the dish, kept it and spoke this verse:
4. I don’t give a damn
for Harald’s hammering.
I keep my moustache munching on
and full-fed I go to bed.
In the morning, when the king and his followers had taken their seats, Halli came into the hall and to the king. He had his sword and shield slung over his back.
He spoke a verse:
5. For butter I’ll have to barter,
oh king, my sword and,
speeder of the clash of shields, clash of shields: battle; its speeder: king
my red buckler for bread.
The helmsman’s warriors hunger. helmsman: ruler, king
We walk around really wanting food.
For sure my belt draws ever nearer
my backbone – Harald’s starving me!
The king did not answer at all and acted as if he had not heard, although everyone knew he was displeased.
Another day, the king was out walking in the street with his followers. Halli was in the procession. He rushed on past the king.
The king spoke this:
6. ‘Where are you heading, Halli?’
Halli answered:
‘I’m briskly running to buy a cow.’
‘You’ve probably ordered some porridge,’
said the king.
‘When buttered, it’s the best of food,’
said Halli.
And then Halli ran into a house and thence to a kitchen. He had ordered himself a stone-kettle of porridge there, and sat down and ate his porridge.
The king saw that Halli had gone into the house. He summoned Thjodolf and two other men to look for Halli. The king went into the house. They found him where he was eating his porridge. The king came to him and saw how Halli was occupied. The king was very angry and asked Halli if he had come from Iceland and visited chieftains in order to create scandal and gossip.
‘Don’t talk like that, my lord,’ said Halli. ‘Constantly I see that you do not reject good food.’
Then Halli stood up and threw down the kettle, and the handle rattled against it. Then Thjodolf recited this:
7. The handle rattled and Halli
has pigged out on porridge.
A cow’s-horn spoon better suits him,
I say, than something fine.
Then the king went away and was very angry.
And that evening food was not served to Halli as it was to the others. And when people had been eating for a while, two men came in carrying a large trough of porridge with a spoon and set it before Halli. He set to and ate as much as he wanted and then stopped.
The king ordered Halli to eat more. He said he would not eat more at that time. Then King Harald drew his sword and ordered Halli to eat the porridge until he burst. Halli said that he would not burst himself on porridge, but the king could take his life if he had made up his mind to do that. Then the king sat down and sheathed his sword.
5 One day somewhat later, the king took a dish containing a roasted piglet from his table and ordered the dwarf Tuta to take it to Halli – ‘and tell him that if he wants to preserve his life he must compose a verse and deliver it before you reach him, but do not tell him this until you get to the middle of the room’.
‘I’m not keen on doing this,’ said Tuta, ‘because I like Halli.’
‘I see,’ the king said, ‘that you think the verse he composed about you was good and you certainly know how to listen carefully. Now go at once and do as I command.’
Tuta took the dish and walked to the middle of the floor, and said, ‘Halli, compose a verse at the king’s command, and have it finished before I reach you if you want to preserve your life.’
Halli stood up and reached his hand out for the dish and recited a verse:
8. The poet received a dead piglet
from a ruler well-regarded.
The god of the ring-land sees a swine ring-land: shield; its god: warrior
standing before him on the board. board: table
The swine’s red sides I see.
I recite a poem rapidly made.
A warrior has burnt the swine’s snout off, warrior: i.e. the cook
may you give in good health, king.
Then the king said, ‘Now I will give up my anger, Halli, because the verse is as well performed as it was quickly undertaken.’
6 It is said that one day Halli went before the king when he was cheerful and happy. Thjodolf and many other people were there. Halli said
that he had composed a drapa about the king and asked for a hearing. The king asked if Halli had ever composed such a poem before. Halli said that he had not.
‘Some people would say,’ said the king, ‘that you’re taking on quite a job considering the calibre of poets who have previously composed poems about me for various reasons. But what seems advisable to you, Thjodolf?’
‘My lord, I cannot give you advice,’ said Thjodolf, ‘but on the other hand I might be able to give Halli some sound advice.’
‘What is that?’ asked the king.
‘First of all, my lord, that he should not deceive you.’
‘What deception did he practise just now?’ asked the king.
‘He was being deceptive when he said that he had not composed a long poem before,’ said Thjodolf, ‘but I say that he has.’
‘What long poem is that,’ asked the king, ‘and what is it about?’
Thjodolf answered, ‘We call it Polled-Cow Verses, which he composed about cows he tended out in Iceland.’
‘Is that true, Halli?’ asked the king.
‘That’s right,’ said Halli.
‘Why did you say that you had not composed a long poem?’ asked the king.
‘Because,’ said Halli, ‘it would not seem to be much of a poem if it were to be heard, and would hardly be praised.’
‘We want to hear that first,’ said the king.
‘Then there will have to be more than one amusement,’ said Halli.
‘What’s the second?’ asked the king.
‘Thjodolf must perform Food Trough Verses which he composed out in Iceland,’ said Halli, ‘and it’s all right that Thjodolf should attack me or denigrate me because my eye-teeth and molars have come in so that I am quite able to answer him word for word.’
The king grinned at that and thought it was fun to set them against each other.
‘What is that long poem like and what is it about?’ asked the king.
Halli answered, ‘It’s about his carrying out ashes with his siblings, and he was thought to be capable of nothing more because of his lack of intelligence, and moreover it was necessary to make sure there were no live coals in the ashes because he had no more brains than he needed at that time.’
The king asked if that was true.
‘It’s true, my lord,’ said Thjodolf.
‘Why did you have such contemptible work?’ asked the king.
‘Because, my lord,’ said Thjodolf, ‘I wanted to get all of us out to play quickly, and no other work was assigned to me.’
‘The cause of that,’ said Halli, ‘was that it was believed that you didn’t: have the brains to be a workman.’
‘You two mustn’t quarrel,’ said the king, ‘but we wish to hear both these poems.’ And so it had to be and each of them performed his poem.
And when the poems were finished, the king said, ‘Both poems are minor and moreover the subjects are trivial, but yours, Thjodolf, was the slighter.’
‘That’s so,’ said Thjodolf, ‘and, my lord, Halli is very sarcastic. But it seems to me he’s more obligated to avenge his father than engage in verbal duels with me here in Norway.’
‘Is that true, Halli?’ asked the king.
‘It’s true,’ said Halli.
‘Why did you leave Iceland to meet with chieftains given that you had not avenged your father?’ asked the king.
‘Because, my lord,’ said Halli, ‘I was a child when my father was killed, and my relatives took over the case and settled it on my behalf. And in our country it’s thought bad to be called a truce-breaker.’
The king answered, ‘It’s a duty not to violate truces or settlements. You’ve answered this very well.’
‘So I thought, my lord,’ said Halli, ‘but Thjodolf may very well speak arrogantly in such matters since I know no one who has avenged his father as grimly as he.’
‘Certainly Thjodolf is likely to have done that boldly,’ said the king, ‘but what is the proof that he did more in this than other men?’
‘Most of all, my lord,’ said Halli, ‘that he ate his father’s killer.’
At this people set up an uproar, and it seemed to them they had never heard of such a monstrosity. The king grinned at this and ordered silence.
‘Show that what you’ve said is true, Halli,’ said the king.
Halli said, ‘I think that Thorljot was Thjodolf’s father. He lived in Svarfadardal in Iceland, and he was very poor and had many children. It’s the custom in Iceland that in the autumn the farmers assemble to discuss the poor people, and at that time no one was named sooner than Thorljot, Thjodolf’s father. One farmer was so generous that he gave him a calf which was one summer old. Then Thorljot fetched the calf and had a lead on it with a noose in the end of the lead. When he got to his hayfield wall, he lifted the calf up on to the wall and it was extremely high and even higher on the inner side because the turves for the wall had been dug there. Then he went over the wall and the calf rolled off the wall on the outside. The noose at the end of the lead tightened around Thorljot’s neck, and he couldn’t reach the ground with his feet. So each was hanging on his own side of the wall, and both were dead when people came up. The children dragged the calf home and prepared it for food, and I think that Thjodolf ate his full share of it.’
‘That would be very close to reasonable,’ said the king.
Thjodolf drew his sword and wanted to strike Halli. Men ran between them.
The king said that neither should dare do the other harm – ‘Thjodolf, you went for Halli first.’
Then it was as the king would have it. Halli performed his drapa and it was highly regarded. The king rewarded him with a generous sum in cash.
Then the winter wore on and all was quiet.
7 There was a man named Einar who was nicknamed Fly. He was the son of Harek from Thjotta. He was a landholder and the king’s envoy to Halogaland; he had the sole right to collect the king’s tribute from the Lapps. At this time he was on very good terms with the king, though their relationship had its ups and downs – Einar was not completely reliable. He killed men if they did not do everything he wanted, and paid compensation for no man. Einar was expected by the king to attend Yule.
Halli and his bench-companion Sigurd fell into talk about Einar. Sigurd informed Halli that no one dared to oppose Einar or behave other than he wished and that he paid no compensation for his killings or robberies.
‘Men like that would be called bad chieftains in my country,’ said Halli.
‘Do speak carefully, companion,’ said Sigurd, ‘because he is quick to take offence at what is said if it displeases him.’
‘Even though all of you are so afraid of him that you don’t dare to say a word against him,’ said Halli, ‘I tell you that I would surely accuse him if he did me wrong and I believe he would compensate me.’
‘Why you more than others?’ asked Sigurd.
‘That will be clear to him,’ said Halli
They argued about the matter until Halli offered to make a bet with Sigurd on it. Sigurd put up a gold arm ring which weighed half a mark, and Halli put up his head.
Einar came that Yule. He sat next to the king and his men sat closer to the door. He was given all the service which the king had himself.
And one day, when all had eaten, the king spoke: ‘Now we want to have more amusement than just drinking. Einar, tell us what news you have from your travels.’
Einar answered, ‘I can’t make up any sagas about it, my lord, even though we treated some Lapp farmers or fishermen roughly.’
The king answered, ‘Tell the whole story because we are easily satisfied, and it all seems entertaining to us even though it seems trivial to you who are constantly engaged in battles.’
‘At any rate, the main thing to report, my lord,’ said Einar, ‘is that last summer when we went north to Finnmark we encountered a ship and crew from Iceland which had been driven off course and had lain up there for the winter. I charged them with having tr
aded with the Lapps without your permission or mine. They denied it and would not admit it, but we thought they were not being truthful and asked them to allow a search, but they flatly refused. I told them then that they would have what was worse for them but appropriate, and ordered my men to arm and attack them. I had five longships and we attacked them from both sides and didn’t leave off until we had cleared the ship. One Icelander whom they called Einar defended himself so well that I have never encountered his equal. Surely that man was a loss and we would never have overcome that ship if everyone on board had been like him.’
‘You did badly,’ said the king, ‘when you killed men who were innocent even though they didn’t do everything as you wished.’
‘I won’t run that risk,’ said Einar. ‘And, my lord, some people say you don’t always act righteously. But they turned out to be guilty because we found many Lapp goods in the ship.’
Halli heard what they were saying and threw his knife down on the table and stopped eating. Sigurd asked if he were ill.
He said not but this was worse than sickness – ‘Einar Fly announced the death of Einar, my brother, whom he said he killed on the trading vessel last summer, and now it is appropriate to seek compensation from this Einar.’
‘Don’t say anything about it, companion,’ said Sigurd, ‘that’s the most promising course.’
‘No,’ said Halli, ‘my brother would not act like that in my case if he had to bring a suit following my killing.’
Then he jumped over his table and went up before the high seat and spoke: ‘You announced news which concerns me greatly, Einar, in the matter of the killing of Einar my brother whom you said you struck down on the trading vessel last summer. Now I want to know whether you will pay me some compensation for my brother.’
The Sagas of the Icelanders Page 93