Guthrunarkvitha I (“The First Poem of Guthrun”) provides a compelling picture of mourning, as Guthrun, confronted with the death of her husband Sigurth, is too shocked to weep. Many men and women attempt to comfort her by telling her of their own sorrows, but eventually she is only able to weep when she embraces her dead husband’s body.
Guthrun sat by her dead husband Sigurth. She did not cry, as other women do, but she was nearly bursting with sorrow. Both men and women came to her to comfort her, but it was not easy to do. People say that Guthrun ate some of the dragon Fafnir’s heart, and from doing so, she learned how to understand the language of birds. What follows is also composed about Guthrun:
GUTHRUN WAS READY for death, long ago, when she sat in sorrow next to Sigurth’s corpse. She did not weep, she did not wring her hands, she did not scream like other women do.
Wise noblemen came to her. They tried to offer some comfort to her. But Guthrun could not find the comfort of weeping, and her chest was nearly bursting with sorrow.
The wives of these nobles, born to high families, sat next to Guthrun, decorated in gold. Each one of them told of her life’s sorrows, each one told of the worst she had endured.
Then Gjaflaug, Guthrun’s aunt, spoke: “I live with less joy than anyone else on earth. I have endured the deaths of five husbands, two daughters, three sisters, and eight brothers, and only I survive.”
But Guthrun could not find the comfort of weeping. She was too miserable over the death of her son, too miserable at the sight of her dead husband.
Then Herborg, queen of Hunland, spoke: “I have a worse pain to tell about. All seven of my sons, together with my husband, fell in battle south of here.
“My father and mother, and four of my brothers, they all died in a windstorm at sea, the hard waves came over the ship’s side.
“I had to dress their bodies, I had to dig their graves, I had to handle their funerals myself. I endured all of this within less than half a year, and not a single person said a word to comfort me.
“And within six months, I was taken prisoner, made a captive, led into slavery. I was forced to dress and tie the shoes of my lord’s wife every morning.
“She hated me from jealousy, she beat me savagely. I have never known a better lord, I have never known a worse lady.”
But Guthrun could not find the comfort of weeping. She was too miserable over the death of her son, too miserable at the sight of her dead husband.
Gullrond, Guthrun’s sister, said to Gjaflaug: “Foster-mother, although you’re wise, you don’t know how to comfort a young widow.” She advised them not to cover the dead man’s body.
She lifted the bedcloths from Sigurth’s body and laid his head on Guthrun’s knees: “Look at your beloved! Put your mouth to his, embrace your husband as you did when he lived.”
Guthrun cast a single glance on him, she saw her husband’s hair dripping with blood, she saw the fire in his eyes dimmed, she saw her beloved’s chest split by a sword-wound.
Guthrun sank back upon her pillow, her hair shaking loose, her cheeks turning red, and a long rain of tears fell on her knees.
Then Guthrun, daughter of Gjuki, wept. She wept, the tears poured from her eyes, and the flock of geese which she kept outside screamed loudly in response.
Then Gullrond, daughter of Gjuki, spoke: “I think the love between the two of you was the greatest of all couples’ on the earth. You had no joy, whether at home or outside, unless he was by your side.”
Guthrun said, “My Sigurth was, next to my brothers, like a garlic stalk towering above the grass. He was like a bright jewel set in a crown, a precious stone to mark a king’s forehead.
“Even kings agreed that I, as Sigurd’s wife, was better, higher than all the Valkyries who serve Odin. But I’ve become as little as a leaf in the forest, now that Sigurth has fallen.
“I looked in the hall, I looked in our bed for my beloved, but it was the sons of Gjuki, my brothers, who caused my pain, it is they who caused their sister to weep so bitterly.
“You, my brothers, you will be just as bad at ruling your lands as you were at keeping your oaths. And you, Gunnar, you’ll never enjoy the treasure. Those rings will be your death, because you swore false oaths to Sigurth.
“There was once so much joy in our garden, when my beloved Sigurth saddled Grani, and the two of you went to woo Brynhild, that wretched creature with her evil luck.”
Then Brynhild, Buthli’s daughter, spoke: “Let me also lose my husband and my children! I am the one who made you weep, made you talk like this.”
Then Gullrond, daughter of Gjuki, spoke: “Silence, you curse on this people! No more of these words. You have always caused misery for our noble family. Everyone wishes you a bad end; you have been the sorrow of seven kings, and the betrayer of all women.”
Then Brynhild, daughter of Buthli, spoke: “Attila, alone, causes all this distress, he is my brother, born to my father Buthli.
“It began when we two, brother and sister, looked upon Sigurth, loaded with Fafnir’s gold. I have paid for that vision now, that vision of wealth which thrills me still.”
Brynhild, daughter of Buthli, leaned on the wall, she summoned her strength, but fire burned in her eyes and she snorted venomously when she saw the wounds of Sigurth.
Guthrun then departed for the forests in the wilderness, and walked all the way to Denmark, where she stayed with Thora, daughter of Hakon, for three and a half years. Brynhild did not wish to survive Sigurth, and she ordered eight of her slaves and five of her slavewomen killed. Then she stabbed herself with Sigurth’s sword, as is told in Sigurtharkvitha en skamma.