Denmark -- History -- To 1241; Folklore -- Scandinavia
Soon after FRIDLEIF was admonished by his people to think about
marrying, that he might prolong his line; but he maintained that the
unmarried life was best, quoting his father Frode, on whom his wife's
wantonness had brought great dishonour. At last, yielding to the
persistent entreaties of all, he proceeded to send ambassadors to ask
for the daughter of Amund, King of Norway. One of these, named Frok, was
swallowed by the waves in mid-voyage, and showed a strange portent at
his death. For when the closing flood of billows encompassed him,
blood arose in the midst of the eddy, and the whole face of the sea was
steeped with an alien redness, so that the ocean, which a moment before
was foaming and white with tempest, was presently swollen with crimson
waves, and was seen to wear a colour foreign to its nature.
Around implacably declined to consent to the wishes of the king, and
treated the legates shamefully, declaring that he spurned the embassy
because the tyranny of Frode had of old borne so heavily upon Norway.
But Amund's daughter, Frogertha, not only looking to the birth of
Fridleif, but also honouring the glory of his deeds, began to upbraid
her father, because he scorned a son-in-law whose nobility was perfect,
being both sufficient in valour and flawless in birth. She added that
the portentous aspect of the sea, when the waves were suddenly turned
into blood, simply and solely signified the defeat of Norway, and was
a plain presage of the victory of Denmark. And when Fridleif sent a
further embassy to ask for her, wishing to vanquish the refusal by
persistency, Amund was indignant that a petition he had once denied
should be obstinately pressed, and hurried the envoys to death, wishing
to offer a brutal check to the zeal of this brazen wooer. Fridleif heard
news of this outrage, and summoning Halfdan and Biorn, sailed round
Norway. Amund, equipped with his native defences, put out his fleet
against him. The firth into which both fleets had mustered is called
Frokasund. Here Fridleif left the camp at night to reconnoitre; and,
hearing an unusual kind of sound close to him as of brass being beaten,
he stood still and looked up, and heard the following song of three
swans, who were crying above him:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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