he earth,
arched the heavens, and strewn the stars? Who else guides the battle?
and how, after death, come mighty heroes to Valhalla, and the evil to
the dark serpent hell?
For that awful fearful thought which already from afar has come
darkly into my mind, that perhaps no Gods live! I will think it no
more.
There must be Gods. I cannot cannot think otherwise, and my
throbbing brain is driven to frenzy.
And if there are Gods, they must be also good, and wise, and
mighty, and just.
Else it would be indeed yet more frightful to think that beings,
mightier and wiser than mankind, delighted in the misery of men,
like an evil urchin who for sport impales a captured beetle.
This, therefore, one dare not think,--neither, indeed,--that
there are no Gods, or that there are evil Gods.
And therefore will I in devout submission endure this awful calamity,
waiting till, in the course of years, I guess this riddle also. So hard
an one was never yet set before me.
But ye, ye faithful ones, who stood by me to the death, and spared
not your own kindred, and have lost your nearest through me; ye will I
never forsake, all my life long; and great gratitude will I bear ye,
and my dearest shall ye be for evermore. For ye alone will I live."

Then spake Hartvik--

"Not thus must thou speak, Halfred. The harp thou shalt again strike
victoriously, the hammer shalt thou again joyously wield under the blue
heavens of Greece. The blood of the vine shalt thou quaff, and a woman
more enchanting than----"

Then Halfred sprang up from the black stone--

"Silence, Hartvik: Thou blasphemest.
Who is stricken so heavily as I, by the hatred of the Gods, who
live and are just, he stands as a lightning-blasted tree by the way.
Birds sing not upon it, the dew moistens it not, the sun kisses it
not.
How should I sing and laugh, drink and kiss, through whom hath
fallen upon so many thousand men and women utter destruction, or the
sorrow of death for evermore?
No, otherwise have I vowed to myself.
Long did I doubt if I still could live, after such a calamity as
the Gods have laid upon this head, and I could not, did I not believe
in good Gods, and tarry for the solving of this riddle.
But joy and happiness have no more part in Halfred Hamundson. I
renounce them for ever."

And he kneeled down, and took from his breast pouch a leathern bottle,
which was filled with white ashes.