rmed a great river, called Von. The wolf
was destined to remain thus chained fast until the last day, when he
would burst his bonds and would be free to avenge his wrongs.

"The wolf Fenrir,
Freed from the chain,
Shall range the earth."

Death-song of Hakon (W. Taylor's tr.).

While some mythologists see in this myth an emblem of crime restrained
and made innocuous by the power of the law, others see the underground
fire, which kept within bounds can injure no one, but which unfettered
fills the world with destruction and woe. Just as Odin's second
eye is said to rest in Mimir's well, so Tyr's second hand (sword)
is found in Fenris's jaws. He has no more use for two weapons than
the sky for two suns.

The worship of Tyr is commemorated in sundry places (such as Tuebingen,
in Germany), which bear more or less modified forms of his name. The
name has also been given to the aconite, a plant known in Northern
countries as "Tyr's helm."

CHAPTER VI: BRAGI

The Origin of Poetry

At the time of the dispute between the AEsir and Vanas, when peace
had been agreed upon, a vase was brought into the assembly into which
both parties solemnly spat. From this saliva the gods created Kvasir,
a being renowned for his wisdom and goodness, who went about the
world answering all questions asked him, thus teaching and benefiting
mankind. The dwarfs, hearing about Kvasir's great wisdom, coveted it,
and finding him asleep one day, two of their number, Fialar and Galar,
treacherously slew him, and drained every drop of his blood into
three vessels--the kettle Od-hroerir (inspiration) and the bowls Son
(expiation) and Boden (offering). After duly mixing this blood with
honey, they manufactured from it a sort of beverage so inspiring that
any one who tasted it immediately became a poet, and could sing with
a charm which was certain to win all hearts.

Now, although the dwarfs had brewed this marvellous mead for their own
consumption, they did not even taste it, but hid it away in a secret
place, while they went in search of further adventures. They had not
gone very far ere they found the giant Gilling also sound asleep,
lying on a steep bank, and they maliciously rolled him into the water,
where he perished. Then hastening to his dwelling, some climbed on
the roof, carrying a huge millstone, while the others, entering,
told the giantess that her husband was dead. This news caused the
poor crea