Once upon a time there existed
somewhere in the world, nobody knows where, a school which was called the
Black School. There the pupils learned witchcraft and all sorts of ancient
arts. Wherever this school was, it was somewhere below ground, and was held
in a strong room which, as it had no window, was eternally dark and changeless.
There was no teacher either, but everything was learnt from books with fiery
letters, which could be read quite easily in the dark. Never were the pupils
allowed to go out into the open air or see the daylight during the whole time
they stayed there, which was from five to seven years. By then they had gained
a thorough and perfect knowledge of the sciences to be learnt. A shaggy gray
hand came through the wall every day with the pupils' meals, and when they
had finished eating and drinking took back the horns and platters. But one
of the rules of the school was, that the owner should keep for himself that
one of the students who should leave the school the last every year. And,
considering that it was pretty well known among the pupils that the devil
himself was the master, you may fancy what a scramble there was at each year's
end, everybody doing his best to avoid being last to leave the school. It
happened once that three Icelanders went to this school, by the name of
Sæmundur the Learned, Kálfur Arnason, and Hálfdán Eldjárnsson; and as they
all arrived at the same time, they were all supposed to leave at the same
time. Sæmundur declared himself willing to be the last of them, at which the
others were much lightened in mind. So he threw over himself a large mantle,
leaving the sleeves loose and the fastenings free. A staircase led from the
school to the upper world, and when Sæmundur was about to mount this the devil
grasped at him and said, "You are mine!"But Sæmundur slipped out of this mantle
and made off with all speed, leaving the devil the empty cloak. However, just
as he left the school the heavy iron door was slammed suddenly to, and wounded
Sæmundur on the heels. Then he said, "That was pretty close upon my heels,"
which words have since passed into a proverb. The Sæmundur contrived to escape
from the Black School, with his companions, scot-free.Some people relate,
that, when Sæmundur came into the doorway, the sun shone upon him and threw
his shadow onto the opposite wall. And as the devil stretched out his hand
to grapple with him, Sæmundur said, "I am not the last. Do you not see who
follows me?" So the devil seized the shadow, mistaking it for a man, and Sæmundur
escaped with a blow on his heels from the iron door.But from that hour he
was always shadowless, for whatever the devil took, he never gave back again.
Source: Jón Arnason, Icelandic
Legends, translated by George E. J. Powell and Eiríkur Magnússon (London:
Richard Bentley, 1864), pp. 226-228.
Note : Sæmundur the Learned
(1054-1133) was Iceland's earliest known scholar. The "Elder" or "Poetic"
Edda was once thought to have been written by him, although this theory is
now largely dismissed academically.
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