_Of the Cup of evil drink that Grimhild the Wise-wife gave to Sigurd._

Now Gudrun the daughter of Giuki beheld Sigurd's glory and knew the
kindness of his heart, and set her love on him, not knowing that all
his thoughts were given to Brynhild. So Sigurd, seeing her sad and in
no wise guessing the cause of her grief, strove to comfort her with
kindly words, but her mood was still unchanged.

Then Grimhild the Queen, who was a witch-wife and a woman of crafty
mind, marked the love of Gudrun for Sigurd, and marked moreover how
his power and honour in the land would soon be greater than that of
her own sons. Therefore she cast about for some shift that might bind
Sigurd to serve with the Niblungs all his life-days.

Now it befell one night that Sigurd had returned from warring and sat
on the high-seat to sup with the Niblung kings. His heart was merry
with victory and ever he thought of Hindfell and of Lymdale and the
love of Brynhild. The people waxed joyful, and the hangings whereon
glowed figures of the gods were stirred with their song and shouting
till Giuki called on Sigurd to take the harp and sing of deeds agone.
Then all men hearkened, hushed and happy, while Sigurd struck the
strings and sang of his mighty kin, of Volsung, of Signy, and of
Sigmund, their deeds and noble deaths. At last the tale was ended and
he fell silent thinking still of Brynhild.

Now came Grimhild bearing him a cup of wine and speaking fair words
of praise, but in the wine she had mingled a fatal witch-drink. So
she stood by Sigurd and said:--

"There is none of the kings of kingdoms that may match thy goodlihead:
Lo now, thou hast sung of thy fathers; but men shall sing of thee,
And therewith shall our house be remembered, and great shall our glory be.
I beseech thee hearken a little to a faithful word of mine,
When thou of this cup hast drunken; for my love is blent with the wine."

He laughed and took the cup: But therein with the blood of the earth
Earth's hidden might was mingled, and deeds of the cold sea's birth,
And things that the high Gods turn from, and a tangle of strange love,
Deep guile and strong compelling, that whoso drank thereof
Should remember not his longing, should cast his love away,
Remembering dead desire but as night remembereth day.

So Sigurd looked on the horn, and he saw how fair it was scored
With the cunning of the Dwarf-kind and the masters of the sword;
And he drank