At Balder’s Shrine
While they were thus engaged at Sogn Sound, Frithiof hastened to Balder’s temple, to which Ingeborg had been sent for security, and where, as Hilding had declared, he found her a prey to grief. Now although it was considered a sacrilege for man and woman to exchange a word in the sacred building, Frithiof could not forbear to console her; and, forgetting all else, he spoke to her and comforted her, quieting all her apprehensions of the gods’ anger by assuring her that Balder, the good, must view their innocent passion with approving eyes, for love so pure as theirs could defile no sanctuary; and they ended by plighting their troth before the shrine of Balder.
“‘Thou whisp’rest “Balder,”—His wrath fearest;—
That gentle god all anger flies.
We worship here a Lover, dearest!
Our hearts’ love is his sacrifice;
That god whose brow beams sunshine-splendour,
Whose faith lasts through eternity,—
Was not his love to beauteous Nanna
As pure, as warm, as mine to thee?
“‘His image see!—himself broods o’er it—
How mild, how kind, his bright eyes move!
An off’ring bear I here before it,
A warm heart full of purest love.
Come, kneel with me! no altar incense
To Balder’s soul more grateful is
Than two hearts, vowing in his presence
A mutual faith as true as his!’”
Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens’s tr.).
Reassured by this reasoning, which received added strength from the voice which spoke loudly from her own heart, Ingeborg could not refuse to see and converse with Frithiof. During the kings’ absence the young lovers met every day, and they exchanged love-tokens, Frithiof giving to Ingeborg Völund’s arm-ring, which she solemnly promised to send back to her lover should she be compelled to break her promise to live for him alone. Frithiof lingered at Framnäs until the kings’ return, when, yielding to the fond entreaties of Ingeborg the Fair, he again appeared before them, and pledged himself to free them from their thraldom to Sigurd Ring if they would only reconsider their decision and promise him their sister’s hand.
“‘War stands and strikes
His glitt’ring shield within thy boundaries;
Thy realm, King Helge, is in jeopardy:
But give thy sister, and I’ll lend mine arm
Thy guard in battle. It may stead thee well.
Come! let this grudge between us be forgotten,
Unwilling bear I such ’gainst Ing’borg’s brother.
Be counsell’d, King! be just! and save at once
Thy golden crown and thy fair sister’s heart!
Here is my hand: by Asa-Thor I swear
Never again ’tis stretch’d in reconcilement!’”
Tegnér, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens’s tr.).