This is but the beginning of this terrible tragedy, but our space does not allow us here to enter upon all the fatal results of the curse of Andvare. In the fate, first of Sigurd and Brynhild, and afterwards of Sigurd and Gudrun, is depicted passion, tenderness and sorrow with a vivid power which nowhere has a superior. The men are princely warriors and the women are not only fair, but godlike, in their beauty and vigor. The noblest sentiments and most heroic actions are crossed by the foulest crimes and the most terrific tragedies. In this train of events, produced by the curse of Andvare alone, there is material for a score of dramas of the most absorbing character. In the story of Sigurd and Brynhild, as we find it in the latter part of the Elder Edda, there are themes for tragic and heroic composition that would become as immortal as Dante’s Inferno or Shakespeare’s Macbeth, for they are based on our profoundest sympathies, and appeal most forcibly to our ideas of the beautiful and the true.
The ring Andvarenant (Andvare’s gift), as it is called, here as elsewhere, symbolizes wealth, which increases in the hands of the wary, careful Andvare (and-vari, wary). But for avarice, that never gets enough, it becomes a destructive curse. It is perfectly in harmony with Loke’s character to be satisfied and pleased with the curse attached to the ring.[[76]]
SECTION II. LOKE’S CHILDREN. THE FENRIS-WOLF.
Loke’s wife was Sigyn; their son was Nare or Narfe, and a brother of him was Ale (Ole) or Vale.
With the hag, Angerboda, Loke had three children. Angerbode was a giantess of Jotunheim, and her name means anguish-boding. The children’s names are Fenrer or Fenris-wolf, the Midgard-serpent called Jormungander, and Hel. Tho gods were not long ignorant that these monsters continued to be bred up in Jotunheim, and, having had recourse to divination, became aware of all the evils they would have to suffer from them; that they were sprung from such a bad mother was a bad omen, and from such a father, one still worse. Allfather (Odin) therefore deemed it advisable to send the gods to bring them to him. When they came, he threw the serpent into that deep ocean by which the earth is encircled. But the monster has grown to such an enormous size, that holding his tail in his mouth he engirdles the whole earth. Hel he cast headlong into Niflheim, and gave her power over nine worlds (regions), into which she distributes those who are sent to her,—that is to say, all who die through sickness or old age. Here she possesses a habitation protested by exceedingly high walls and strongly-barred gates. Her hall is called Elvidner (place of storm); hunger is her table; starvation, her knife; delay, her man-servant; slowness, her maid-servant; precipice, her threshold; care, her bed; and burning anguish forms the hangings of her apartments. The one half of her body is livid, the other half the color of human flesh. She may therefore easily be recognized; the more so as she has a dreadfully stern and grim countenance.
The wolf Fenrer was bred up among the gods, but Tyr alone had courage enough to go and feed him. Nevertheless, when the gods perceived that he every day increased prodigiously in size, and that the oracles warned then that he would one day become fatal to them, they determined to make a very strong iron chain for him, which they called Leding. Taking this fetter to the wolf, they requested him to try his strength on it. Fenrer, perceiving that the enterprise would not be very difficult for him, let them do what they pleased, permitted himself to be bound, and then by great muscular exertion burst the chain and set himself at liberty. The gods having seen this, made another chain, twice as strong as the former, and this they called Drome. They prevailed on the wolf to put it on, assuring him that, by breaking this, he would give an incontestible proof of his strength; it would be a great honor to him if so great a chain could not hold him.
The wolf saw well enough that it would not be so easy to break this fetter, but finding at the same time that his strength had increased since he broke Leding, and thinking that he could never become famous without running some risk, he voluntarily submitted to be chained. When the gods told him that they had finished their task, Fenrer shook himself violently, stretched his limbs, rolled on the ground, and at last burst his chains, which flew in pieces all around him. He thus freed himself from Drome. From that time we have the proverbs, to get loose out of Leding, or to dash out of Drome, when anything is to be accomplished by powerful efforts.
After this the gods despaired of ever being able to bind the wolf; wherefore Odin sent Skirner, the messenger of Frey, down to the abode of the dark elves (Svartalf-heim), to engage certain dwarfs to make the chain called Gleipner. It was made out of six things, namely, the noise made by the footstep of a cat, the beard of a woman, the roots of the mountains, the sinews of the bear, the breath of the fish, and the spittle of birds (the enumeration of these things produces alliteration in Icelandic). And although you, says he who relates this in the Younger Edda, may not have heard of these things before, you may easily convince yourself that I have not been telling you lies. You may have observed that woman has no beard, that cats make no noise when they run, and that there are no roots under the mountains; but it is a nevertheless none the less true what I have related, although there may be some things that you are not able to furnish proof of.
How was this chain smithied? It was perfectly smooth and soft like a silken string, and yet, as we shall presently see, very firm and strong. When this fetter was brought to the gods, they were profuse in their thanks to Skirner for the trouble he had given himself and for having done his errand so well, and taking the wolf with them they proceeded to a lake called Amsvartner, to a holm (rocky island) which is called Lyngve. They showed the string to the wolf, and expressed their wish that he would try to break it, at the same time assuring him that it was somewhat stronger than its thinness would warrant a person in supposing it to be. They took it themselves one after another in their hands, and, after attempting in vain to break it, said: You alone, Fenrer are able to accomplish such a feat. Methinks, replied the wolf, that I shall acquire no fame by breaking such a slender thread, but if any deceit or artifice has been employed in making it, slender though it seems, it shall never come on my feet.
The gods assured him that he would easily break a limber silken cord, since he had already burst asunder iron fetters of the most solid construction; but if you should not succeed in breaking it, they added, you will show that you are too weak to cause the gods any fear, and we will not hesitate to set you at liberty without delay. I fear much, replied the wolf, that if you once bind me so fast that I shall be unable to free myself by my own efforts, you will be in no haste to loose me. Loath am I therefore to have this cord wound around me, but in order that you may not doubt my courage, I will consent, provided one of you put his hand into my mouth, as a pledge that you intend me no deceit. The gods looked wistfully at one another, and thought the conditions severe, finding that they had only the choice of two evils, and no one would sacrifice his hand, until Tyr, as has formerly been related, stepped forward and intrepidly put his hand between the monster’s jaws. Thereupon the gods having tied up the wolf, he violently stretched himself as he had formerly done, and used all his might to disengage himself, but the more efforts he made the tighter became the cord. Then all the gods burst out in laughter at the sight, excepting Tyr, who lost his hand.