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He read the best literature, preferring, among other things, the story of David, the ODYSSEY, the ARCADIA, the saga of Burnt Njal, and the GRAND CYRUS. Aeschylus, Sophocles, Shakespeare, Ariosto, Boccaccio, Scott, Dumas, Dickens, Thackeray, and George Eliot, were some of his favourite authors. He once began a review of George Eliot's biography, but left it unfinished.
Then he called together all his foes, and they planned together how that they should ride to Lithend and slay him. But Njal heard what they had been saying, and he warned Gunnar. 'You have always dealt truly and kindly with me, said Gunnar, when Njal had finished speaking, 'and if ill befall me, take heed, I pray you, of my son and Hogni.
'They are true words, she said again; 'and that you may know them to be true, I will give you a sign. Before the meat that is on the board to-night is eaten, Grim and Helgi will be in the house! and she held her peace and went out. When the food was prepared, Bergthora called to them, and all sat down but Njal, who lingered in the doorway.
Of this branch of it alone is there a literature, for many of the sagas are the fruit of a literary movement in Iceland anterior to the establishment of Christianity; and the historian Ari, who wrote within a century after that event, gives careful information of the earlier state of affairs. The reader of Burnt Njal sees that among the Icelanders life was short and precarious.
'It had been well if two of you had died and Hauskuld had lived, said Njal after he had heard the tidings, 'for I know better than you what will be the end of this. 'And what will be the end? asked Skarphedinn. 'My death, and yours, and your mother's, answered Njal. 'Shall I die also? he asked; but Njal shook his head.
'I should like to lie on the grass again and listen to your voice, and dream of Njal, and Grettir, and Sigurd, as I used to do. 'It is your turn to tell me stories now, said the old lady. 'Not fairy stories, but true ones. The Dictator laughed. 'You know all that there is to tell, he said. 'What my letters didn't say you must have found from the newspapers.
When Njal and his sons went up to the pastures to see after the cattle, and the thralls were busy working in the fields, Bergthora the mistress was left alone in the house. On this day a man mounted on a black horse and armed with a spear and a short sword rode up to the door and asked her if she could find something for him to do.
Then Njal said to his head man: 'Bring hither the oxhide and put it on the bed, and watch how we lay ourselves down, so that you may know where to find our bones. For not one inch will we stir, whatever befall. And he laid himself down, and bade the boy lie between himself and Bergthora. So they waited.
'Never ask another man for aught when you can ask me, said Njal, and Gunnar answered: 'Your gifts are great, but truly your love is greater. In a few weeks the summer began, and, as was his custom, Gunnar rode to the Thing, leaving Hallgerda in the house at Lithend.
'One that none could guess, replied Njal, and Gunnar went away. Now at the next Thing there was great dispute over this suit, but in the end it was settled to Gunnar's honour, and Gizur the white and Geir the priest gave pledges that they would keep the peace.
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