“After all,” said the Parson, “this is nothing more than a ghostly tournament; and I have no doubt but that the haughty tournaments of the middle ages, if deprived of their mediæval gilding, would be very like the hewings, ale swillings, and pork banquetings of the Einherjir. I hope, though, that they brewed good ale in Asgard.”
“I dare say,” said the Captain, “that, after their carousal, they wanted a little sleep to fit them for the toils of the next day; I am sure I do, and I vote we try what sort of couches Birger has prepared for us. Our once merry friends below seem to be as fast asleep as swine now, and as quiet. To tell you the truth, I am a little tired with our day’s work, and we certainly have another good day’s work cut out for us to-morrow.”
“With all my heart,” said Birger, finishing off what, from its colour, might have been a glass of water, but was not. As Odin says—
“No one will charge thee
With evil, if early
Thou goest to slumber.”
“Come along, then,” said the Captain, “turn in; and may the Nyss to whom we have sacrificed send us to-morrow ‘a southerly wind and a cloudy sky.’”
There are several national songs in Norway. That which Torkel sings is an ancient song, and has been adapted and arranged as a chorus, by Hullah; but it is not that which is generally known as “Gammle Norgé.” This, though eminently popular, is but a modern composition. Its author is Bjerregaard, a Norse poet of some eminence. It has been thus rendered into English by Mr. Latham:—
Minstrel, awaken the harp from its slumbers!
Strike for old Norway, the land of the free!