Rune XIIa

'S BROKEN VOW. Lemminkainen, artful husband, Reckless hero, Kaukomieli, Constantly beside his young wife., Passed his life in sweet contentment, And the years rolled swiftly onward; Ahti thought not of the battles, Nor Kyllikki of the dances. Once upon a time it happened That the hero, Lemminkainen, Went upon the lake a-fishing, Was not home at early evening, As the cruel night descended; To the village went Kyllikki, To the dance of merry maidens. Who will tell the evil story, Who will bear the information To the husband, Lemminkainen? Ahti's sister tells the story, And the sister's name, Ainikki. Soon she spreads the cruel tidings, Straightway gives the information, Of Kyllikki's perjured honor, These the words Ainikki utters: "Ahti, my beloved brother, To the village went Kyllikki, To the hall of many strangers, To the plays and village dances, With the young men and the maidens, With the maids of braided tresses, To the halls of joy and pleasure." Lemminkainen, much dejected, Broken-hearted, flushed with anger, Spake these words in measured accents: "Mother dear, my gray-haired mother, Wilt thou straightway wash my linen In the blood of poison-serpents, In the black blood of the adder? I must hasten to the combat, To the camp-fires of the Northland, To the battle-fields of Lapland; To the village went Kyllikki, To the play of merry maidens, To the games and village dances, With the maids of braided tresses." Straightway speaks the wife, Kyllikki: "My beloved husband, Ahti, Do not go to war, I pray thee. In the evening I lay sleeping, Slumbering I saw in dream-land Fire upshooting from the chimney, Flames arising, mounting skyward, From the windows of this dwelling, From the summits of these rafters, Piercing through our upper chambers, Roaring like the fall of waters, Leaping from the floor and ceiling, Darting from the halls and doorways." But the doubting Lemminkainen Makes this answer to Kyllikki: "I discredit dreams or women, Have no faith in vows of maidens! Faithful mother of my being, Hither bring my mail of copper; Strong desire is stirring in me For the cup of deadly combat, For the mead of martial conquest." This the pleading mother's answer: "Lemminkainen, son beloved, Do not go to war I pray thee; We have foaming beer abundant, In our vessels beer of barley, Held in casks by oaken spigots; Drink this beer of peace and pleasure, Let us drink of it together." Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "I shall taste no more the viands, In the home of false Kyllikki; Rather would I drink the water From the painted tips of birch-oars; Sweeter far to me the water, Than the beverage of dishonor, At my mother's home and fireside!