Then the father gave the flute to the elder brother who had slain him, but he wouldn’t take it. “Take it and play upon it!” roared his father at him. Then he took it and played:
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“Play, my brother, play, But don’t steal my heart away! 170 ’Twas thou who didst me slay, And stowed my corpse away, For the hog shot down by me, That rooted up the tree!” |
“Then it was thou who didst slay him?” cried the father. What could the elder brother do but confess it! Then they dug the dead man up, and buried him in the cemetery; but they tied the elder brother to a wild horse, which scattered his bones about the endless steppe.
But I was there, and drank wine and mead till my beard was wet.