Amleth

The chief authority for the legend of Amleth is Saxo Grammaticus, who devotes to it parts of the third and fourth books of his Gesta Danorum, completed at the beginning of the 13th century.

The Irish and Scottish word amhlair, which in contemporary vernacular denotes a dull, stupid person, is handed down from the ancient name for a court jester or fool, who entertained the king but also surreptitiously advised him through riddles and antics.

A more recent suggestion is based on the Eddaic kenning associating Amlóði with the mythological mill grótti, and derives it from the Old Irish name Admlithi "great-grinding", attested in Togail Bruidne Dá Derga.

[12] In a controversial suggestion going back to 1937, the sequence æmluþ contained in the 8th-century Old Frisian runic inscription on the Westeremden yew-stick has been interpreted as a reference to "Amleth".

[9] Nevertheless, no such poem has survived, and the late 12th-century Latin version of the story told by Saxo Grammaticus is the oldest source.

However, Feng murdered Horvendill out of jealousy and persuaded Gerutha to become his wife on the plea that he had committed the crime for no other reason than to avenge her of a husband who had hated her.

However, when Amleth slew the eavesdropper hidden, like Polonius in Shakespeare's play, in his mother's room, and destroyed all trace of the deed, Feng was assured that the young man's madness was feigned.

He executed his vengeance during their drunken sleep by fastening down over them the woolen hangings of the hall with pegs he had sharpened during his feigned madness, then setting fire to the palace.

[14] Saxo states that Amleth was buried on a plain (or "heath") in Jutland, famous for his name and burial place.

Name spellings are derived from Oliver Elton's 1905 translation, The First Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus, via Wikisource.

Late compilations such as the Gesta Danorum pa danskæ (dating around 1300) and the Compendium Saxonis (mid-14th century) summarize the story.

[16][17] Much confusion has arisen as Eric V. Gordon (1927) incorrectly interpreted the Gesta as an adaptation of the 12th-century Chronicle of the Kings of Lejre.

Then he went back to Britain to kill the British king, who wanted to avenge Feng's death and marry Scotland's queen.

According to the Sagnkrønike Amlæd was killed by his brother in law, the King of Norway (Shakespeare's Fortinbras) in a sea battle on the Øresund, as he tried to gain control over the neighbouring territory.

In Iceland, the early modern Ambale's Saga is a romantic tale (the earliest manuscript dates from the 17th century).

[14] Also comparable is the medieval Hrólfs saga kraka, where the brothers Helgi (known as Halga in Beowulf) and Hroar (Hroðgar) take the place of the hero (corresponding to the tale of Harald and Halfdan in the seventh book of Saxo Grammaticus); Helgi and Hroar, like Harald and Halfdan, avenge their father's murder by their uncle by burning the uncle in his palace.

Harald and Halfdan escape after their father's death by being brought up with dogs' names in a hollow oak, and subsequently by feigning madness.

Nevertheless, the parts played by the personages who in Shakespeare became Ophelia and Polonius, the method of revenge, and the whole narrative of Amleth's adventure in England, have no parallels in the Latin story.

This concerns especially the episode of the "traitorous letter" (ordering the death of the bearer), also found in the Old French (13th-century) Dit de l'empereur Constant, and further afield in various Arabian and Indian tales.

[14] There are also striking similarities between the story of Amleth and that of Kai Khosrow in the Shahnameh (Book of the King) of the Persian poet Firdausi.

[14][24] In ancient Egyptian mythology, a similar tale of a king who is murdered by a jealous brother but avenged by his son appears in the narrative of Osiris, Set and Horus.

Amleth's madness was certainly altogether feigned; he prepared his vengeance a year beforehand and carried it out deliberately and ruthlessly at every point.

Amblett in a 17th-century Danish manuscript illustration