to the tempest, and the East was in our sails;
By the thorns is our raiment rended, for we rode the mirk-wood through,
And our steeds were the God-bred coursers, nor day from night-tide
knew:
Lo, we are the men of Atli, and his will and his spoken word
Lies not beneath our pillow, nor hangs above the board;
Nay, how shall it fail but slay us if three days we hold it hid?
--I will speak to-night, O Niblung, save thy very mouth forbid:
But lo now, look on the tokens, and the rune-staff of the King."

Then spake the Son of Giuki: "Give forth the word and the thing.
Since thy faithfulness constraineth: but I know thy tokens true,
And thy rune-staff hath the letters that in days agone I knew."

"Then this is the word," said the elder, "that Atli set in my mouth:
'I have known thee of old, King Gunnar, when we twain drew sword in
the south
In the days of thy father Giuki, and great was the fame of thee then:
But now it rejoiceth my heart that thou growest the greatest of men,
And anew I crave thy friendship, and I crave a gift at thy hands,
That thou give me the white-armed Gudrun, the queen and the darling of
lands,
To be my wife and my helpmate, my glory in hall and afield;
That mine ancient house may blossom and fresh fruit of the King-tree
yield.
I send thee gifts moreover, though little things be these.
But such is the fashion of great-ones when they speak across the
seas.'"

Then cried out that earl of the strangers, and men brought the gifts
and the gold;
White steeds from the Eastland horse-plain, fine webs of price untold,
Huge pearls of the nether ocean, strange masteries subtly wrought
By the hands of craftsmen perished and people come to nought.

But Gunnar laughed and answered: "King Atli speaketh well;
Across the sea, peradventure, I too a tale may tell:
Now born is thy burden of speech; so rejoice at the Niblung board,
For here art thou sweetly welcome for thyself and thy mighty lord:
And maybe by this time tomorrow, or maybe in a longer space,
Shall ye have an answer for Atli, and a word to gladden his face."

So the strangers sit and are merry, and the Wonder of the East
And the glory of the Westland kissed lips in the Niblung feast.

But again on the morrow-morning speaks Gunnar with Grimhild and saith:
"Where then in the world is