So she spake, and the sun rose higher, and her speech at last was spent, And she gave him back to the women to bear forth to the people's kings, That they too may rejoice in her glory and her day of happy things. But there sat the Helper of Men with King Elf and Earls in the hall, And they spake of the deeds that had been, and told of the times to befall, And they hearkened and heard sweet voices and the sound of harps draw nigh, Till their hearts were exceeding merry and they knew not wherefore or why: Then, lo, in the hall white raiment, as thither the damsels came, And amid the hands of the foremost was the woven gold aflame. "O daughters of earls," said the Helper, "what tidings then do ye bear? Is it grief in the merry morning, or joy or wonder or fear?" Quoth the first: "It is grief for the foemen that the Masters of God-home would grieve." Said the next: "'Tis a wonder of wonders, that the hearkening world shall believe." "A fear of all fears," said the third, "for the sword is uplifted on men." "A joy of all joys," said the fourth, "once come, it comes not again!" "Lo, son," said the ancient Helper, "glad sit the earls and the lords! Lookst thou not for a token of tidings to follow such-like words?" Saith King Elf: "Great words of women! or great hath our dwelling become." Said the women: "Words shall be greater, when all folk shall praise our home." "What then hath betid," said King Elf, "do the high Gods stand in our gate?" "Nay," said they, "else were we silent, and they should be telling of fate." "Is the bidding come," said the Helper, "that we wend the Gods to see?" "Many summers and winters," they said, "ye shall live on the earth, it may be." Said a young man: "Will ye be telling that all we shall die no more?" "Nay," they answered, "nay, who knoweth but the change may be hard at the door?" "Come ships from the sea," said an elder, "with all gifts of the Eastland gold?" "Was there less than enough," said the women, "when last our treasure was told?" "Speak then," said the ancient Helper, "let the worst and the best be said." Quoth they: "'Tis the Queen of the Isle-folk, she is weary-sick on her bed." Said King Elf: "Yet ye come rejoicing; what more lieth under the tongue?" They said: "The earth is weary; but the tender blade hath sprung, That shall wax till beneath its branches fair bloom the meadows green; For the Gods and they that were mighty were glad erewhile with the Queen." Said King Elf: "How say ye, women? Of a King new-born do ye tell By a God of the Heavens begotten in our fathers' house to dwell?" "By a God of the Earth," they answered; "but greater yet is the son, Though long were the days of Sigmund, and great are the deeds he hath done."