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THE NIBELUNGENLIED
By An Unknown Author
Translated by Daniel B. Shumway
Originally written in Middle High German (M.H.G.), sometime around 1200 A.D., although this dating is by no means certain. Author unknown.
Originally written in Middle High German (M.H.G.) around 1200 A.D., though this date is not guaranteed. The author is unknown.
The text of this edition is based on that published as "The Nibelungenlied", translated by Daniel B. Shumway (Houghton-Mifflin Co., New York, 1909).
The text of this edition is based on that published as "The Nibelungenlied," translated by Daniel B. Shumway (Houghton-Mifflin Co., New York, 1909).
PREPARER'S NOTE: In order to make this electronic edition easier to use, the preparer has found it necessary to re-arrange the endnotes of Mr. Shumway's edition, collating them with the chapters themselves and substituting page references with footnote references. The preparer takes full responsibility for these changes.—DBK.
PREPARER'S NOTE: To make this electronic edition more user-friendly, the preparer has rearranged the endnotes from Mr. Shumway's edition, aligning them with the chapters and replacing page references with footnote references. The preparer is fully responsible for these changes.—DBK.
CONTENTS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY:
OTHER TRANSLATIONS—
Hatto, A.T. (Trans.): "Nibelungenlied" (Penguin Classics, London, 1962). Prose translation.
Hatto, A.T. (Trans.): "Nibelungenlied" (Penguin Classics, London, 1962). Prose translation.
Ryder, Frank G. (Trans.): "The Song of the Nibelungs" (Wayne State University Press, Detroit, 1962). Verse translation.
Ryder, Frank G. (Trans.): "The Song of the Nibelungs" (Wayne State University Press, Detroit, 1962). Verse translation.
RECOMMENDED READING—
Suggested Reading—
Anonymous: "Kudrun", Translated by Marion E. Gibbs & Sidney Johnson (Garland Pub., New York, 1992).
Anonymous: "Kudrun", Translated by Marion E. Gibbs & Sidney Johnson (Garland Pub., New York, 1992).
Anonymous: "Volsungasaga", Translated by William Morris and Eirikr Magnusson (Walter Scott Press, London, 1888; Reissued by the Online Medieval and Classical Library as E-Text #29, 1997).
Anonymous: "Volsungasaga", Translated by William Morris and Eirikr Magnusson (Walter Scott Press, London, 1888; Reissued by the Online Medieval and Classical Library as E-Text #29, 1997).
Saxo Grammaticus: "The First Nine Books of the Danish History", Translated by Oliver Elton (London, 1894; Reissued by the Online Medieval and Classical Library as E-Text OMACL #28, 1997).
Saxo Grammaticus: "The First Nine Books of the Danish History", Translated by Oliver Elton (London, 1894; Reissued by the Online Medieval and Classical Library as E-Text OMACL #28, 1997).
PREFACE
This work has been undertaken in the belief that a literal translation of as famous an epic as the "Nibelungenlied" would be acceptable to the general reading public whose interest in the story of Siegfried has been stimulated by Wagner's operas and by the reading of such poems as William Morris' "Sigurd the Volsung". Prose has been selected as the medium of translation, since it is hardly possible to give an accurate rendering and at the same time to meet the demands imposed by rhyme and metre; at least, none of the verse translations made thus far have succeeded in doing this. The prose translations, on the other hand, mostly err in being too continuous and in condensing too much, so that they retell the story instead of translating it. The present translator has tried to avoid these two extremes. He has endeavored to translate literally and accurately, and to reproduce the spirit of the original, as far as a prose translation will permit. To this end the language has been made as simple and as Saxon in character as possible. An exception has been made, however, in the case of such Romance words as were in use in England during the age of the romances of chivalry, and which would help to land a Romance coloring; these have been frequently employed. Very few obsolete words have been used, and these are explained in the notes, but the language has been made to some extent archaic, especially in dialogue, in order to give the impression of age. At the request of the publishers the Introduction Sketch has been shorn of the apparatus of scholarship and made as popular as a study of the poem and its sources would allow. The advanced student who may be interested in consulting authorities will find them given in the introduction to the parallel edition in the Riverside Literature Series. A short list of English works on the subject had, however, been added.
This work has been done with the belief that a straightforward translation of such a well-known epic as the "Nibelungenlied" would appeal to the general reading public, whose interest in the story of Siegfried has been sparked by Wagner's operas and readings of poems like William Morris' "Sigurd the Volsung." Prose has been chosen as the medium for translation since it’s nearly impossible to provide an accurate translation while also meeting the constraints of rhyme and meter; none of the verse translations made so far have managed to do this. The prose translations, on the other hand, often make the mistake of being too continuous and overly condensed, retelling the story instead of translating it. The current translator has aimed to avoid these two extremes. He has worked to translate literally and accurately, capturing the spirit of the original as much as a prose translation allows. To this end, the language has been simplified and made as Saxon in nature as possible. However, an exception has been made for Romance words that were used in England during the age of chivalric romances, which help to add a Romance touch; these have been included frequently. Very few outdated words have been used, and those are explained in the notes, but the language has been made somewhat archaic, particularly in dialogue, to convey a sense of age. At the publishers' request, the Introduction Sketch has been stripped of scholarly apparatus and made as accessible as a study of the poem and its sources would allow. Advanced students interested in consulting sources will find them listed in the introduction to the parallel edition in the Riverside Literature Series. A brief list of English works on the topic has also been added.
In conclusion the translator would like to thank his colleagues, C.G. Child and Cornelius Weygandt, for their helpful suggestions in starting the work, and also to acknowledge his indebtedness to the German edition of Paul Piper, especially in preparing the notes.
In conclusion, the translator would like to thank his colleagues, C.G. Child and Cornelius Weygandt, for their helpful suggestions in getting the project started, and also to acknowledge his debt to the German edition by Paul Piper, particularly in preparing the notes.
—DANIEL BUSSIER SHUMWAY.
—DANIEL BUSSIER SHUMWAY.
Philadelphia, February 15, 1909.
Philadelphia, February 15, 1909.
INTRODUCTORY SKETCH
There is probably no poem of German literature that has excited such universal interest, or that has been so much studied and discussed, as the "Nibelungenlied". In its present form it is a product of the age of chivalry, but it reaches back to the earliest epochs of German antiquity, and embraces not only the pageantry of courtly chivalry, but also traits of ancient Germanic folklore and probably of Teutonic mythology. One of its earliest critics fitly called it a German "Iliad", for, like this great Greek epic, it goes back to the remotest times and unites the monumental fragments of half-forgotten myths and historical personages into a poem that is essentially national in character, and the embodiment of all that is great in the antiquity of the race. Though lacking to some extent the dignity of the "Iliad", the "Nibelungenlied" surpasses the former in the deep tragedy which pervades it, the tragedy of fate, the inevitable retribution for crime, the never-dying struggle between the powers of good and evil, between light and darkness.
There’s probably no poem in German literature that has generated as much interest or has been studied and discussed as extensively as the "Nibelungenlied." In its current form, it comes from the age of chivalry, but it traces back to the earliest periods of German history, incorporating not only the grandeur of courtly chivalry but also elements of ancient German folklore and likely Teutonic mythology. One of its early critics aptly referred to it as a German "Iliad," because, like this great Greek epic, it reaches back to very old times and weaves together the monumental remnants of nearly forgotten myths and historical figures into a poem that is fundamentally national in character and represents all that is significant in the ancient heritage of the people. While it may lack some of the dignity of the "Iliad," the "Nibelungenlied" surpasses it in the profound tragedy that fills it, the tragedy of fate, the unavoidable consequences of wrongdoing, and the ongoing struggle between the forces of good and evil, between light and darkness.
That the poem must have been exceedingly popular during the Middle Ages is evinced by the great number of Manuscripts that have come down to us. We possess in all twenty-eight more or less complete MSS., preserved in thirty-one fragments, fifteen of which date from the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Of all these MSS., but nine are so well preserved that, in spite of some minor breaks, they can be considered complete. Of this number three, designated respectively as A, B, C, are looked upon as the most important for purposes of textual criticism, and around them a fierce battle has been waged, which is not even yet settled. (1) It is now generally conceded that the longest MS., C, is a later redaction with many additional strophes, but opinions are divided as to whether the priority should be given to A or B, the probabilities being that B is the more original, A merely a careless copy of B.
That the poem must have been very popular during the Middle Ages is shown by the large number of manuscripts that have come down to us. We have a total of twenty-eight mostly complete manuscripts, preserved in thirty-one fragments, fifteen of which are from the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Out of all these manuscripts, only nine are well-preserved enough that, despite some minor breaks, they can be considered complete. Among these, three—designated as A, B, and C—are regarded as the most important for textual criticism, and there has been a fierce debate around them that is still ongoing. (1) It is now generally agreed that the longest manuscript, C, is a later version with many additional stanzas, but opinions vary on whether A or B should be considered the original, with a strong likelihood that B is the more authentic version, while A is just a careless copy of B.
In spite of the great popularity of the "Nibelungenlied", the poem was soon forgotten by the mass of the people. With the decay of courtly chivalry and the rise of the prosperous citizen class, whose ideals and tastes lay in a different direction, this epic shared the fate of many others of its kind, and was relegated to the dusty shelves of monastery or ducal libraries, there to wait till a more cultured age, curious as to the literature of its ancestors, should bring it forth from its hiding places. However, the figures of the old legend were not forgotten, but lived on among the people, and were finally embodied in a popular ballad, "Das Lied vom Hürnen Seyfrid", which has been preserved in a print of the sixteenth century, although the poem itself is thought to go back at least to the thirteenth. The legend was also dramatized by Hans Sachs, the shoemaker poet of Nuremberg, and related in prose form in a chap book which still exists in prints of the eighteenth century. The story and the characters gradually became so vague and distorted, that only a trained eye could detect in the burlesque figures of the popular account the heroes of the ancient Germanic Legend.
Despite the widespread popularity of the "Nibelungenlied," the poem was quickly forgotten by most people. As courtly chivalry declined and a wealthy middle class emerged with different ideals and tastes, this epic met the same fate as many others like it, ending up on the dusty shelves of monasteries or ducal libraries, waiting for a more cultured era to rediscover the literature of its ancestors. However, the characters from the old legend remained in the public's memory and were eventually captured in a popular ballad, "Das Lied vom Hürnen Seyfrid," which survives in a sixteenth-century print, though the poem itself likely dates back to at least the thirteenth century. The legend was also adapted into a play by Hans Sachs, the cobbler poet from Nuremberg, and retold in prose in a chapbook that still exists in eighteenth-century prints. Over time, the story and characters became so vague and distorted that only a keen observer could recognize the comedic figures in the popular account as the heroes from the ancient Germanic legend.
The honor of rediscovering the "Nibelungenlied" and of restoring it to the world of literature belongs to a young physician by the name of J.H. Obereit, who found the manuscript C at the castle of Hohenems in the Tirol on June 29, 1755; but the scientific study of the poem begins with Karl Lachmann, one of the keenest philological critics that Germany has ever produced. In 1816 he read before the University of Berlin his epoch-making essay upon the original form of the "Nibelungenlied". Believing that the poem was made up of a number of distinct ballads or lays, he sought by means of certain criteria to eliminate all parts which were, as he thought, later interpolations or emendations. As a result of this sifting and discarding process, he reduced the poem to what he considered to have been its original form, namely, twenty separate lays, which he thought had come down to us in practically the same form in which they had been sung by various minstrels.
The credit for rediscovering the "Nibelungenlied" and bringing it back into the literary world goes to a young doctor named J.H. Obereit, who found manuscript C at Hohenems Castle in Tirol on June 29, 1755. However, the serious study of the poem started with Karl Lachmann, one of the sharpest philological critics Germany has ever seen. In 1816, he presented his groundbreaking essay on the original form of the "Nibelungenlied" at the University of Berlin. He believed that the poem was made up of several distinct ballads or lays and aimed to use certain criteria to remove parts he thought were later additions or corrections. Through this process of filtering and discarding, he condensed the poem to what he believed was its original form, consisting of twenty separate lays, which he thought had been preserved in nearly the same way they were performed by different minstrels.
This view is no longer held in its original form. Though we have every reason to believe that ballads of Siegfried the dragon killer, of Siegfried and Kriemhild, and of the destruction of the Nibelungs existed in Germany, yet these ballads are no longer to be seen in our poem. They formed merely the basis or source for some poet who thought to revive the old heroic legends of the German past which were familiar to his hearers and to adapt them to the tastes of his time. In all probability we must assume two, three, or even more steps in the genesis of the poem. There appear to have been two different sources, one a Low German account, quite simple and brief, the other a tradition of the Lower Rhine. The legend was perhaps developed by minstrels along the Rhine, until it was taken and worked up into its present form by some Austrian poet. Who this poet was we do not know, but we do know that he was perfectly familiar with all the details of courtly etiquette. He seems also to have been acquainted with the courtly epics of Heinrich von Veldeke and Hartman von Ouwe, but his poem is free from the tedious and often exaggerated descriptions of pomp, dress, and court ceremonies, that mar the beauty of even the best of the courtly epics. Many painstaking attempts have been made to discover the identity of the writer of our poem, but even the most plausible of all these theories which considers Kurenberg, one of the earliest of the "Minnesingers", to be the author, because of the similarity of the strophic form of our poem to that used by him, is not capable of absolute proof, and recent investigations go to show that Kurenberg was indebted to the "Nibelungen" strophe for the form of his lyric, and not the "Nibelungenlied" to him. The "Nibelungen" strophe is presumably much older, and, having become popular in Austria through the poem, was adopted by Kurenberg for his purposes. As to the date of the poem, in its present form it cannot go back further than about 1190, because of the exactness of the rhymes, nor could it have been written later than 1204, because of certain allusions to it in the sixth book of "Parzival", which we know to have been written at this date. The two Low German poems which probably form the basis of our epic may have been united about 1150. It was revised and translated into High German and circulated at South German courts about 1170, and then received its present courtly form about 1190, this last version being the immediate source of our manuscripts.
This view is no longer held in its original form. Although we have every reason to believe that ballads about Siegfried the dragon killer, of Siegfried and Kriemhild, and of the destruction of the Nibelungs existed in Germany, they are no longer present in our poem. They were merely the basis or source for some poet who aimed to revive the old heroic legends of Germany's past that were familiar to his audience and adapt them to the tastes of his time. We likely need to assume two, three, or even more steps in the development of the poem. It seems there were two different sources: one a Low German account, quite simple and brief, and the other a tradition from the Lower Rhine. The legend may have been developed by minstrels along the Rhine until it was taken and reshaped into its current form by some Austrian poet. We don’t know who this poet was, but we know he was well-versed in all the details of courtly etiquette. He also seems to have been familiar with the courtly epics of Heinrich von Veldeke and Hartman von Ouwe, but his poem avoids the tedious and often exaggerated descriptions of pomp, dress, and court ceremonies that detract from the beauty of even the best courtly epics. Many diligent attempts have been made to identify the writer of our poem, but even the most plausible theory suggesting Kurenberg, one of the earliest "Minnesingers," as the author, due to the similarity of the strophic form of our poem to his, cannot be definitively proven. Recent investigations indicate that Kurenberg actually drew from the "Nibelungen" strophe for the form of his lyric, rather than the "Nibelungenlied" being derived from him. The "Nibelungen" strophe is likely much older and, after gaining popularity in Austria through the poem, was adopted by Kurenberg for his own purposes. Regarding the date of the poem, in its current form, it cannot date back further than around 1190 due to the precision of the rhymes, and it could not have been written later than 1204, given certain references to it in the sixth book of "Parzival," which we know was written at that time. The two Low German poems that probably form the basis of our epic may have been combined around 1150. It was revised and translated into High German and circulated at South German courts around 1170, then received its present courtly form around 1190, with this last version being the immediate source of our manuscripts.
The story of Siegfried, his tragic death, and the dire vengeance visited upon his slayers, which lies at the basis of our poem, antedates the latter by many centuries, and was known to all nations whose languages prove by their resemblance to the German tongue their original identity with the German people. Not only along the banks of the Rhine and the Danube and upon the upland plains of Southern Germany, but also along the rocky fjords of Norway, among the Angles and Saxons in their new home across the channel, even in the distant Shetland Islands and on the snow-covered wastes of Iceland, this story was told around the fires at night and sung to the harp in the banqueting halls of kings and nobles, each people and each generation telling it in its own fashion and adding new elements of its own invention. This great geographical distribution of the legend, and the variety of forms in which it appears, make it difficult to know where we must seek its origin. The northern version is in many respects older and simpler in form than the German, but still it is probable that Norway was not the home of the saga, but that it took its rise in Germany along the banks of the Rhine among the ancient tribe of the Franks, as is shown by the many geographical names that are reminiscent of the characters of the story, such as a Siegfried "spring" in the Odenwald, a Hagen "well" at Lorsch, a Brunhild "bed" near Frankfort, and the well-known "Drachenfels", or Dragon's Rock, on the Rhine. It is to Norway, however, that we must go for our knowledge of the story, for, singularly enough, with the exception of the "Nibelungenlied" and the popular ballad, German literature has preserved almost no trace of the legend, and such as exist are too late and too corrupt to be of much use in determining the original features of the story.
The story of Siegfried, his tragic death, and the severe revenge taken on his killers, which is the basis of our poem, predates it by many centuries. It was known to all nations whose languages, similar to German, indicate their original connection to the German people. Not only along the banks of the Rhine and the Danube, and in the hilly regions of Southern Germany, but also along the rugged fjords of Norway, among the Angles and Saxons in their new home across the channel, even in the distant Shetland Islands and on the snowy plains of Iceland, this story was shared around fires at night and sung to the harp in the banquet halls of kings and nobles. Each culture and generation told it in their own way, adding their unique elements. This broad geographical spread of the legend and the different forms it takes make it challenging to pinpoint its origins. The northern version is, in many ways, older and simpler than the German one, yet it’s likely that Norway was not the birthplace of the saga. Instead, it likely originated in Germany along the Rhine among the ancient Franks, as indicated by various place names connected to the story, such as a Siegfried "spring" in the Odenwald, a Hagen "well" at Lorsch, a Brunhild "bed" near Frankfurt, and the famous "Drachenfels," or Dragon's Rock, on the Rhine. However, we must look to Norway for our understanding of the story because, interestingly, aside from the "Nibelungenlied" and the popular ballad, German literature has preserved almost no trace of the legend. The remnants that do exist are too late and too corrupted to be of much help in identifying the original elements of the story.
Just when the legend emigrated to Skandinavia we do not know, but certainly at an early date, perhaps during the opening years of the sixth century. It may have been introduced by German traders, by slaves captured by the Northmen on their frequent marauding expeditions, or, as Mogk believes, may have been taken by the Heruli on their return to Norway after their defeat by the Langobardi. By whatever channel, however, the story reached the North, it became part and parcel of Skandinavian folklore, only certain names still pointing to the original home of the legend. In the ninth century, when Harald Harfagr changed the ancient free constitution of the land, many Norwegians emigrated to Iceland, taking with them these acquired legends, which were better preserved in this remote island because of the peaceful introduction of Christianity, than on the Continent, where the Church was more antagonistic to the customs and legends of the heathen period.
Just when the legend moved to Scandinavia, we don’t know, but it was definitely at an early date, possibly during the early years of the sixth century. It might have been brought over by German traders, or by slaves captured by the Northmen on their frequent raiding expeditions, or, as Mogk believes, it may have been taken by the Heruli on their return to Norway after their defeat by the Langobardi. However the story made its way to the North, it became an integral part of Scandinavian folklore, with only certain names still hinting at the legend's original home. In the ninth century, when Harald Harfagr changed the ancient free constitution of the land, many Norwegians emigrated to Iceland, bringing these legends with them. These stories were better preserved on this remote island due to the peaceful introduction of Christianity than they were on the Continent, where the Church was more opposed to the customs and legends of the pagan era.
The Skandinavian version of the Siegfried legend has been handed down to us in five different forms. The first of these is the poetic or older "Edda", also called Saemund's "Edda", as it was assigned to the celebrated Icelandic scholar Saemundr Sigfusson. The "Codex Regius", in which it is preserved, dates from the middle of the thirteenth century, but is probably a copy of an older manuscript. The songs it contains were written at various times, the oldest probably in the first half of the ninth century, the latest not much before the date of the earliest manuscript. Most of them, however, belong to the Viking period, when Christianity was already beginning to influence the Norwegians, that is, between the years 800 and 1000. They are partly heroic, partly mythological in character, and are written in alliterative strophes interspersed with prose, and have the form of dialogues. Though the legends on which these songs are based were brought from Norway, most of them were probably composed in Iceland. Among these songs, now, we find a number which deal with the adventures of Siegfried and his tragic end.
The Scandinavian version of the Siegfried legend has come down to us in five different forms. The first of these is the poetic or older "Edda," also known as Saemund's "Edda," named after the famous Icelandic scholar Saemundr Sigfusson. The "Codex Regius," which preserves it, originates from the mid-thirteenth century but is likely a copy of an older manuscript. The songs it contains were written at various times, with the oldest probably dating back to the first half of the ninth century and the latest not much earlier than the date of the earliest manuscript. Most of them are from the Viking period, when Christianity was already starting to influence the Norwegians, that is, between the years 800 and 1000. They are partly heroic and partly mythological in nature, written in alliterative strophes mixed with prose, taking the form of dialogues. Although the legends that inspired these songs were brought from Norway, most of them were probably composed in Iceland. Among these songs, we now find several that recount the adventures of Siegfried and his tragic fate.
The second source of the Siegfried story is the so-called "Volsungasaga", a prose paraphrase of the "Edda" songs. The MS. dates from the beginning of the thirteenth century, but the account was probably written a century earlier. The adventures of Siegfried and his ancestors are here related in great detail and his ancestry traced back to Wodan. Although a secondary source, as it is based on the "Edda", the "Volsungasaga" is nevertheless of great importance, since it supplies a portion of the "Codex Regius" which has been lost, and thus furnishes us with the contents of the missing songs.
The second source of the Siegfried story is the so-called "Volsungasaga," a prose summary of the "Edda" songs. The manuscript dates back to the early thirteenth century, but the story was likely written about a century earlier. The adventures of Siegfried and his ancestors are detailed here, and his lineage is traced back to Wodan. Although it's a secondary source, as it relies on the "Edda," the "Volsungasaga" is still very important because it provides part of the "Codex Regius" that has been lost, giving us the content of the missing songs.
The third source is the prose "Edda", sometimes called the "Snorra Edda", after the famous Icelander Snorri Sturluson (1178-1241), to whom it was ascribed. The author was acquainted with both the poetic "Edda" and the "Volsungasaga", and follows these accounts closely. The younger "Edda" is not really a tale, but a book of poetics; it relates, however, the Siegfried saga briefly. It is considered an original source, since it evidently made use of songs that have not come down to us, especially in the account of the origin of the treasure, which is here told more in detail and with considerable differences. The "Nornagestsaga" or "Nornageststhattr", the story of "Nornagest", forms the fourth source of the Siegfried story. It is really a part of the Olaf saga, but contains the story of Sigurd and Gunnar (the Norse forms of Siegfried and Gunther), which an old man Nornagest relates to King Olaf Tryggvason, who converted the Norwegians to Christianity. The story was written about 1250 to illustrate the transition from heathendom to the Christian faith. It is based on the "Edda" and the "Volsungasaga", and is therefore of minor importance as a source.
The third source is the prose "Edda," also known as the "Snorra Edda," named after the well-known Icelander Snorri Sturluson (1178-1241), to whom it's attributed. The author was familiar with both the poetic "Edda" and the "Volsungasaga," and closely follows these narratives. The younger "Edda" isn’t really a story but a book on poetics; however, it briefly covers the Siegfried saga. It’s considered an original source since it evidently used songs that we no longer have, especially in the detailed account of the treasure's origin, which is presented here with significant differences. The "Nornagestsaga" or "Nornageststhattr," the story of "Nornagest," serves as the fourth source for the Siegfried story. It’s actually a part of the Olaf saga but includes the tales of Sigurd and Gunnar (the Norse versions of Siegfried and Gunther), which an old man named Nornagest tells to King Olaf Tryggvason, who converted the Norwegians to Christianity. This story was written around 1250 to illustrate the shift from paganism to the Christian faith. It is based on the "Edda" and the "Volsungasaga" and is therefore less significant as a source.
These four sources represent the early introduction of the Siegfried legend into Skandinavia. A second introduction took place about the middle of the thirteenth century, at the time of the flourishing of the Hanseatic League, when the story was introduced together with other popular German epics. These poems are products of the age of chivalry, and are characterized by the romantic and courtly features of this movement. The one which concerns us here, as the fifth source of the Siegfried story, is the so-called "Thidreksaga", which celebrates the adventures of the famous legendary hero, Dietrich of Berne, the historical Theodorich of Ravenna. In as far as it contains the adventures of the Nibelungs, it is also called the "Niflungasaga". The "Thidreksaga" was written about 1250 by a Norwegian who, as he himself tells us, heard the story from Germans in the neighborhood of Bremen and Munster. Since it is thus based on Saxon traditions, it can be considered an independent source of the legend, and, in fact, differs from the earlier Norse versions in many important details. The author was acquainted, however, with the older versions, and sought to compromise between them, but mostly followed his German authorities.
These four sources represent the early introduction of the Siegfried legend into Scandinavia. A second wave of introduction occurred around the mid-thirteenth century, during the height of the Hanseatic League, when the story was brought in along with other popular German epics. These poems are products of the chivalric era and are marked by the romantic and courtly themes of that movement. The one relevant to us here, as the fifth source of the Siegfried story, is the so-called "Thidreksaga," which celebrates the adventures of the legendary hero, Dietrich of Berne, who corresponds to the historical Theodorich of Ravenna. In relation to the Nibelungs, it is also referred to as the "Niflungasaga." The "Thidreksaga" was written around 1250 by a Norwegian who, as he mentions, heard the story from Germans in the Bremen and Munster area. Since it draws from Saxon traditions, it can be seen as an independent source of the legend and, in fact, differs from earlier Norse versions in many significant ways. However, the author was familiar with the older versions and aimed to find a balance between them, though he primarily followed his German sources.
The story, as given in the older Norse versions, is in most respects more original than in the "Nibelungenlied". It relates the history of the treasure of the Nibelungs, tracing it back to a giant by the name of "Hreithmar", who received it from the god "Loki" as a compensation for the killing of the former's son "Otur", whom Loki had slain in the form of an otter. Loki obtained the ransom from a dwarf named "Andwari", who in turn had stolen it from the river gods of the Rhine. Andwari pronounces a terrible curse upon the treasure and its possessors, and this curse passes from Loki to the Giant Hreithmar, who is murdered when asleep by his two sons "Fafnir" and "Regin". The latter, however, is cheated out of the coveted prize by Fafnir, who carries it away to the "Gnita" heath, where he guards it in the form of a dragon.
The story, as told in the older Norse versions, is in many ways more original than in the "Nibelungenlied." It recounts the history of the Nibelung treasure, tracing it back to a giant named "Hreithmar," who received it from the god "Loki" as compensation for the death of Hreithmar's son "Otur," whom Loki killed while in the form of an otter. Loki acquired the ransom from a dwarf named "Andwari," who had stolen it from the river gods of the Rhine. Andwari places a terrible curse on the treasure and its owners, and this curse passes from Loki to the giant Hreithmar, who is killed in his sleep by his two sons "Fafnir" and "Regin." However, Regin is deceived out of the prized treasure by Fafnir, who takes it to the "Gnita" heath, where he guards it in the form of a dragon.
This treasure, with its accompanying curse, next passes into the hands of a human being named Sigurd (the Norse form of Siegfried, as we have seen), a descendant of the race of the Volsungs, who trace their history back to Wodan and are especially favored by him. The full story of Siegfried's ancestry is far too long to relate here, and does not especially concern us, as it has little or no influence on the later development of the story. It is sufficient for our purpose to know that Siegfried was the son of Siegmund, who was slain in battle before the birth of his son. Sigurd was carefully reared by his mother "Hjordis" and the wise dwarf Regin, who taught him the knowledge of runes and of many languages. (2) At the suggestion of Regin, Sigurd asks for and receives the steed "Grani" from the king, and is then urged by his tutor to help him obtain the treasure guarded by the latter's brother Fafnir. Sigurd promises, but first demands a sword. Two, that are given him by Regin, prove worthless, and he forges a new one from the pieces of his father's sword, which his mother had preserved. With this he easily splits the anvil and cuts in two a flake of wool, floating down the Rhine. He first avenges the death of his father, and then sets off with Regin to attack the dragon Fafnir. At the advice of the former Sigurd digs a ditch across the dragon's peth and pierces him from below with his sword, as the latter comes down to drink. In dying the dragon warns Sigurd against the treasure and its curse, and against Regin, who, he says, is planning Sigurd's death, intending to obtain the treasure for himself.
This treasure, along with its curse, eventually ends up in the hands of a man named Sigurd (the Norse version of Siegfried, as we’ve seen), who is a descendant of the Volsung family. They trace their lineage back to Wodan and are especially favored by him. The full story of Siegfried’s family history is far too lengthy to explain here and doesn't really concern us since it has little impact on the later development of the tale. For our purposes, it’s enough to know that Siegfried was the son of Siegmund, who was killed in battle before Siegfried was born. Sigurd was raised by his mother, Hjordis, and the wise dwarf Regin, who taught him about runes and many languages. At Regin's suggestion, Sigurd asks for and receives the horse Grani from the king, and then his tutor encourages him to help obtain the treasure guarded by Regin’s brother Fafnir. Sigurd agrees but first asks for a sword. The two swords given to him by Regin prove useless, so he forges a new one from the pieces of his father’s sword, which his mother had kept. With this sword, he easily splits the anvil and cuts through a piece of wool floating down the Rhine. He avenges his father’s death and then sets off with Regin to confront the dragon Fafnir. Following Regin's advice, Sigurd digs a trench across the dragon's path and stabs him from below with his sword as Fafnir bends down to drink. As he dies, the dragon warns Sigurd about the treasure and its curse, and about Regin, who, he claims, is plotting Sigurd's death to take the treasure for himself.
When Regin sees the dragon safely dead, he creeps from his place of concealment, drinks of the blood, and, cutting out the heart, begs Sigurd to roast it for him. While doing so, Sigurd burns his fingers, and, putting them in his mouth, understands at once the language of the birds and hears them say that Sigurd himself should eat the heart and then he would be wiser than all other men. They also betray Regin's evil designs, and counsel the lad to kill his tutor. This Sigurd then does, cutting off Regin's head, drinking the blood of both brothers, and eating Fafnir's heart. (3) On the further advice of the birds Sigurd first fetches the treasure from the cave, and then journeys to the mountain "Hindarfjall", where he rescues the sleeping Valkyrie, "Sigrdrifa" ("Brynhild", "Brunhild"), who, stung by the sleep thorn of Wodan, and clad in full armor, lies asleep within a castle that is surrounded by a wall of flame. With the help of his steed Grani, Sigurd succeeds in penetrating through the fire to the castle. The sleeping maiden awakes when he cuts the armor from her with his sword, for it was as tight as if grown fast to the flesh. She hails her deliverer with great joy, for she had vowed never to marry a man who knew fear. At Sigurd's request she teaches him many wise precepts, and finally pledges her troth to him. He then departs, after promising to be faithful to her and to remember her teachings.
When Regin sees that the dragon is dead, he sneaks out from where he was hiding, drinks the blood, and asks Sigurd to roast the heart for him. While he’s doing this, Sigurd burns his fingers, and putting them in his mouth, instantly understands the language of the birds. They tell him that he should eat the heart himself to become wiser than anyone else. They also reveal Regin's wicked plans and advise Sigurd to kill his mentor. Sigurd does just that, chopping off Regin’s head, drinking the blood of both brothers, and eating Fafnir’s heart. (3) Following the birds' advice, Sigurd first retrieves the treasure from the cave and then heads to the mountain "Hindarfjall," where he wakes the sleeping Valkyrie, "Sigrdrifa" ("Brynhild," "Brunhild"), who has been put to sleep by Wodan’s thorn and is fully armored, lying within a castle surrounded by a wall of fire. With the help of his horse Grani, Sigurd manages to break through the flames to reach the castle. The sleeping maiden awakens when he cuts the armor from her, which had been as tight as if it were part of her skin. She greets her savior with great joy, having sworn never to marry a man who knows fear. At Sigurd’s request, she teaches him many wise lessons and eventually promises to marry him. He then leaves, vowing to be faithful to her and to remember her teachings.
On his journeyings Sigurd soon arrives at the court of "Giuki" (the Norse form of the German "Gibicho", "Gibich"), a king whose court lay on the lower Rhine. Giuki has three sons, "Gunnar", "Hogni", and "Gutthorm", and a daughter "Gudrun", endowed with great beauty. The queen bears the name of Grimhild, and is versed in magic, but possessed of an evil heart. (4) Sigurd is received with great honor, for his coming had been announced to Gudrun in dreams, which had in part been interpreted to her by Brynhild. The mother, knowing of Sigurd's relations to the latter, gives him a potion which produces forgetfulness, so that he no longer remembers his betrothed, and accepts the hand of Gudrun, which the king offers him at the queen's request. The marriage is celebrated with great pomp, and Sigurd remains permanently attached to Giuki's court, performing with the others many deeds of valor.
On his travels, Sigurd soon arrives at the court of Giuki, a king whose domain lies along the lower Rhine. Giuki has three sons: Gunnar, Hogni, and Gutthorm, and a daughter named Gudrun, who is incredibly beautiful. The queen is named Grimhild, and she is skilled in magic, but she has a wicked heart. Sigurd is welcomed with great honor because his arrival had been foretold to Gudrun in dreams, which Brynhild partially interpreted for her. Knowing about Sigurd's connection to Brynhild, the queen gives him a potion that makes him forget, so he no longer remembers his betrothed and accepts Gudrun's hand, which the king offers him at the queen's request. The marriage is celebrated with much fanfare, and Sigurd becomes a permanent member of Giuki’s court, performing many heroic deeds alongside the others.
Meanwhile Grimhild urges her son Gunnar to sue for the hand of Brynhild. Taking with him Sigurd and a few others, Gunnar visits first Brynhild's father "Budli", and then her brother-in-law "Heimir", from both of whom he learns that she is free to choose whom she will, but that she will marry no one who has not ridden through the wall of flame. With this answer they proceed to Brynhild's castle, where Gunnar is unable to pierce the flames, even when seated on Sigurd's steed. Finally Sigurd and Gunnar change forms, and Sigurd, disguised as Gunnar, rides through the wall of fire, announces himself to Brynhild as Gunnar, the son of Giuki, and reminds her of her promise to marry the one who penetrated the fire. Brynhild consents with great reluctance, for she is busy carrying on a war with a neighboring king. Sigurd then passes three nights at her side, placing, however, his sword Gram between them, as a bar of separation. At parting he draws from her finger the ring, with which he had originally pledged his troth to her, and replaces it with another, taken from Fafnir's hoard. Soon after this the marriage of Gunnar and Brynhild is celebrated with great splendor, and all return to Giuki's court, where they live happily for some time.
Meanwhile, Grimhild encourages her son Gunnar to seek the hand of Brynhild. Taking with him Sigurd and a few others, Gunnar first visits Brynhild's father, Budli, and then her brother-in-law, Heimir. From both men, he learns that she is free to choose whoever she wants, but she won't marry anyone who hasn't ridden through the wall of fire. With this information, they head to Brynhild's castle, where Gunnar is unable to get through the flames, even when riding on Sigurd's horse. Finally, Sigurd and Gunnar switch forms, and Sigurd, disguised as Gunnar, rides through the wall of fire. He introduces himself to Brynhild as Gunnar, the son of Giuki, and reminds her of her promise to marry the one who got through the fire. Brynhild agrees, though reluctantly, since she is caught up in a war with a neighboring king. Sigurd then spends three nights by her side but keeps his sword, Gram, between them as a barrier. When they part, he removes the ring he had originally given her to pledge his love and replaces it with another one from Fafnir's treasure. Shortly after, the wedding of Gunnar and Brynhild is celebrated in grand style, and everyone returns to Giuki's court, where they live happily for some time.
One day, however, when the ladies go down to the river to take a bath, Brynhild will not bathe further down stream than Gudrun, that is, in the water which flows from Gudrun to her, (5) giving as the reason, that her father was mightier and her husband braver, since he had ridden through the fire, while Sigurd had been a menial. Stung at this, Gudrun retorts that not Gunnar but Sigurd had penetrated the flames and had taken from her the fateful ring "Andvaranaut", which she then shows to her rival in proof of her assertion. Brynhild turns deathly pale, but answers not a word. After a second conversation on the subject had increased the hatred of the queens, Brynhild plans vengeance. Pretending to be ill, she takes to her bed, and when Gunnar inquires what ails her, she asks him if he remembers the circumstances of the wooing and that not he but Sigurd had penetrated the flames. She attempts to take Gunnar's life, as she had pledged her troth to Sigurd, and is thereupon placed in chains by Hogni. Seven days she sleeps, and no one dares to wake her. Finally Sigurd succeeds in making her talk, and she tells him how cruelly she has been deceived, that the better man had been destined for her, but that she had received the poorer one. This Sigurd denies, for Giuki's son had killed the king of the Danes and also Budli's brother, a great warrior. Moreover, although he, Sigurd, had ridden through the flames, he had not become her husband. He begs her therefore not to harbor a grudge against Gunnar.
One day, when the women go down to the river to bathe, Brynhild refuses to bathe downstream from Gudrun, meaning in the water that flows from Gudrun to her. She explains that her father was stronger and her husband braver, as he had ridden through fire, while Sigurd had been a servant. Hurt by this, Gudrun fires back that it was not Gunnar but Sigurd who had gone through the flames and taken from her the cursed ring "Andvaranaut," which she then shows to prove her point. Brynhild turns pale but says nothing. After another conversation that deepens the hostility between the queens, Brynhild schemes for revenge. Pretending to be sick, she goes to bed, and when Gunnar asks what’s wrong, she reminds him of how Sigurd, not he, had entered the flames. She tries to kill Gunnar because she had promised her love to Sigurd, and then Hogni puts her in chains. She sleeps for seven days, and no one dares to wake her. Finally, Sigurd manages to get her to talk, and she reveals how badly she’s been betrayed, saying that the better man was meant for her, but she ended up with the lesser one. Sigurd disputes this, pointing out that Giuki's son had killed the King of the Danes and Budli's brother, a great warrior. Furthermore, although Sigurd had ridden through the flames, he never became her husband. He urges her not to hold a grudge against Gunnar.
Brynhild remains unconvinced, and plans Sigurd's death, and threatens Gunnar with the loss of dominion and life, if he will not kill Sigurd. After some hesitation, Gunnar consents, and, calling Hogni, informs him that he must kill Sigurd, in order to obtain the treasure of the Rhinegold. Hogni warns him against breaking his oath to Sigurd, when it occurs to Gunnar, that his brother Gutthorm had sworn no oath and might do the deed. Both now proceed to excite the latter's greed, and give him wolf's and snake meat to eat to make him savage. Twice Gutthorm makes the attempt, as Sigurd lies in bed, but is deterred by the latter's penetrating glance. The third time he finds Sigurd asleep, and pierces him with his sword. Sigurd, awakening at the pain, hurls his own sword after his murderer, fairly cutting him in two. He then dies, protesting his innocence and designating Brynhild as the instigator of his murder. Brynhild at first laughs aloud at Gudrun's frantic grief, but later her joy turns into sorrow, and she determines to share Sigurd's death. In vain they try to dissuade her; donning her gold corselet, she pierces herself with a sword and begs to be burned on Sigurd's funeral pyre. In dying she prophesies the future, telling of Gudrun's marriage to "Atli" and of the death of the many men which will be caused thereby.
Brynhild is still not convinced and plots Sigurd's death, threatening Gunnar with the loss of his power and life if he doesn’t kill Sigurd. After some hesitation, Gunnar agrees and, calling Hogni, tells him that he must kill Sigurd to get the treasure of the Rhinegold. Hogni warns him against breaking his oath to Sigurd, but then Gunnar realizes that his brother Gutthorm hasn’t sworn any oath and might carry out the murder. They both then work to fuel Gutthorm's greed and feed him wolf and snake meat to make him wild. Gutthorm tries to attack Sigurd while he sleeps twice, but each time he’s stopped by Sigurd’s intense gaze. The third time, he finds Sigurd asleep and stabs him with his sword. Sigurd, awakened by the pain, throws his own sword at his killer, cutting him in half. He dies, declaring his innocence and blaming Brynhild for orchestrating his murder. Initially, Brynhild laughs at Gudrun's desperate sorrow, but her joy soon turns to grief, and she decides to join Sigurd in death. Despite attempts to dissuade her, she puts on her gold armor, stabs herself with a sword, and asks to be burned on Sigurd's funeral pyre. As she dies, she predicts the future, foretelling Gudrun's marriage to "Atli" and the deaths of many men that will follow as a result.
After Brynhild's death Gudrun in her sorrow flees to the court of King "Half" of Denmark, where she remains seven years. Finally Grimhild learns of the place of her daughter's concealment, and tries to bring about a reconciliation with Gunnar and Hogni. They offer her much treasure, if she will marry Atli. At first she refuses and thinks only of revenge, but finally she consents and the marriage is celebrated in Atli's land. After a time Atli, who is envious of Gunnar's riches, for the latter had taken possession of Sigurd's hoard, invites him to his court. A man named "Vingi", who was sent with the invitation, changes the runes of warning, which Gudrun had given him, so that they, too, read as an invitation. The brothers determine to accept the invitation, and, though warned by many dreams, they set out for Atli's court, which they reach in due time. Vingi now breaks forth into exultations, that he has lured them into a snare, and is slain by Hogni with a battle axe.
After Brynhild's death, Gudrun, in her grief, escapes to the court of King “Half” of Denmark, where she stays for seven years. Eventually, Grimhild discovers where her daughter is hiding and tries to arrange a reconciliation with Gunnar and Hogni. They offer her a lot of treasure if she agrees to marry Atli. At first, she refuses and only thinks about revenge, but eventually, she agrees, and the marriage takes place in Atli's land. After some time, Atli, who is jealous of Gunnar's wealth since Gunnar possesses Sigurd's treasure, invites him to his court. A man named “Vingi,” who was sent with the invitation, alters the warning runes that Gudrun had given him so that they also appear as an invitation. The brothers decide to accept the invitation, and despite being warned by many dreams, they set off for Atli's court, which they reach in due time. Vingi now bursts into exultation, claiming he has lured them into a trap, and is killed by Hogni with a battle axe.
As they ride to the king's hall, Atli and his sons arm themselves for battle, and demand Sigurd's treasure, which belongs by right to Gudrun. Gunnar refuses to surrender it, and the fight begins, after some exchange of taunting words. Gudrun tries at first to reconcile the combatants, but, failing, arms herself and fights on the side of her brothers. The battle rages furiously with great loss on both sides, until nearly all of the Nibelungs are killed, when Gunnar and Hogni are forced to yield to the power of numbers and are captured and bound. Gunnar is asked, if he will purchase his life with the treasure. He replies that he first wishes to see Hogni's bleeding heart. At first the heart of a slave is cut out and brought to him, but Gunnar recognizes it at once as that of a coward. Then they cut out Hogni's heart, who laughs at the pain. This Gunnar sees is the right one, and is jubilant, for now Atli shall never obtain the treasure, as Gunnar alone knows where it is hid. In a rage Atli orders Gunnar to be thrown to the snakes. Though his hands are bound, Gunnar plays so sweetly with his toes on the harp, which Gudrun has sent him, that all the snakes are lulled to sleep, with the exception of an adder, which stings him to the heart, so that he dies.
As they ride to the king's hall, Atli and his sons prepare for battle and demand Sigurd's treasure, which rightfully belongs to Gudrun. Gunnar refuses to give it up, and the fight begins after some taunts are exchanged. Gudrun initially tries to bring peace to the fighters, but when that fails, she arms herself and joins her brothers in battle. The fight is intense, resulting in heavy losses on both sides. Eventually, nearly all the Nibelungs are killed, and Gunnar and Hogni are forced to surrender to the overwhelming numbers and are captured and tied up. Gunnar is asked if he will trade his life for the treasure. He responds that he wants to see Hogni's bleeding heart first. At first, they cut out the heart of a slave and bring it to him, but Gunnar immediately recognizes it as the heart of a coward. Then they take out Hogni's heart, who laughs despite the pain. Gunnar sees that this is the right heart and feels victorious, knowing that Atli will never get the treasure, as only he knows where it’s hidden. In his fury, Atli orders that Gunnar be thrown to the snakes. Even with his hands bound, Gunnar plays sweetly with his toes on the harp that Gudrun sent him, and all the snakes fall asleep, except for one adder, which bites him in the heart, leading to his death.
Atli now walks triumphantly over the dead bodies, and remarks to Gudrun that she alone is to blame for what has happened. She refuses his offers of peace and reconciliation, and towards evening kills her two sons "Erp" and "Eitil", and serves them at the banquet, which the king gives for his retainers. When Atli asks for his sons, he is told that he had drunk their blood mixed with wine and had eaten their hearts. That night when Atli is asleep, Gudrun takes Hogni's son "Hniflung", who desires to avenge his father, and together they enter Atli's room and thrust a sword through his breast. Atli awakes from the pain, only to be told by Gudrun that she is his murderess. When he reproaches her with thus killing her husband, she answers that she cared only for Sigurd. Atli now asks for a fitting burial, and on receiving the promise of this, expires. Gudrun carries out her promise, and burns the castle with Atli and all his dead retainers. Other Edda songs relate the further adventures of Gudrun, but they do not concern us here, as the "Nibelungenlied" stops with the death of the Nibelungs.
Atli now walks triumphantly over the dead bodies and tells Gudrun that she alone is responsible for what has happened. She rejects his offers of peace and reconciliation, and by evening, she kills her two sons, "Erp" and "Eitil," and serves them at the banquet that the king holds for his followers. When Atli asks about his sons, he's told that he has drunk their blood mixed with wine and eaten their hearts. That night, while Atli sleeps, Gudrun takes Hogni's son, "Hniflung," who wants to avenge his father, and together they sneak into Atli's room and stab him through the chest. Atli wakes up in pain, only to be informed by Gudrun that she is his killer. When he accuses her of murdering her husband, she replies that she only cared for Sigurd. Atli then asks for a proper burial, and upon receiving that promise, he dies. Gudrun fulfills her promise and burns the castle with Atli and all his dead followers. Other Edda songs tell of Gudrun's further adventures, but we won't cover them here, as the "Nibelungenlied" ends with the death of the Nibelungs.
This in brief is the story of Siegfried, as it has been handed down to us in the Skandinavian sources. It is universally acknowledged that this version, though more original than the German tradition, does not represent the simplest and most original form of the tale; but what the original form was, has long been and still is a matter of dispute. Two distinctly opposite views are held, the one seeing in the story the personification of the forces of nature, the other, scouting the possibility of a mythological interpretation, seeks a purely human origin for the tale, namely, a quarrel among relatives for the possession of treasure. The former view is the older, and obtained almost exclusively at one time. The latter has been gaining ground of recent years, and is held by many of the younger students of the legend. According to the mythological view, the maiden slumbering upon the lonely heights is the sun, the wall of flames surrounding her the morning red ("Morgenrote"). Siegfried is the youthful day who is destined to rouse the sun from her slumber. At the appointed time he ascends, and before his splendor the morning red disappears. He awakens the maiden; radiantly the sun rises from its couch and joyously greets the world of nature. But light and shade are indissolubly connected; day changes of itself into night. When at evening the sun sinks to rest and surrounds herself once more with a wall of flames, the day again approaches, but no longer in the youthful form of the morning to arouse her from her slumber, but in the sombre shape of Gunther, to rest at her side. Day has turned into night; this is the meaning of the change of forms. The wall of flame vanishes, day and sun descend into the realm of darkness. Under this aspect the Siegfried story is a day myth; but under another it is a myth of the year. The dragon is the symbol of winter, the dwarfs of darkness. Siegfried denotes the bright summer, his sword the sunbeams. The youthful year grows up in the dark days of winder. When its time has come, it goes forth triumphantly and destroys the darkness and the cold of winter. Through the symbolization the abstractions gain form and become persons; the saga is thus not a mere allegory, but a personification of nature's forces. The treasure may have entered the saga through the widespread idea of the dragon as the guardian of treasure, or it may represent the beauty of nature which unfolds when the season has conquered. In the last act of the saga, Siegfried's death, Wilmanns, the best exponent of this view, sees again a symbolic representation of a process of nature. According to him it signifies the death of the god of the year in winter. In the spring he kills the dragon, in the winter he goes weary to his rest and is foully slain by the hostile powers of darkness. Later, when this act was connected with the story of Gunther's wooing Brunhild, the real meaning was forgotten, and Siegfried's death was attributed to the grief and jealousy of the insulted queen.
This is a brief overview of Siegfried's story as it's been passed down through Scandinavian sources. It's widely accepted that this version, while more original than the German one, doesn’t capture the simplest and most original form of the tale. However, what that original form was has been a topic of debate for a long time. There are two completely opposing interpretations: one sees the story as a representation of natural forces, while the other rejects any mythological explanation and looks for a purely human origin, suggesting it's a family dispute over treasure. The first view is the older one and was mostly accepted in the past. The second has gained traction in recent years and is supported by many younger scholars of the legend. According to the mythological interpretation, the maiden sleeping on the lonely heights symbolizes the sun, and the wall of flames surrounding her represents the morning light ("Morgenrote"). Siegfried is the young day meant to awaken the sun from her slumber. He ascends at the right moment, and as he shines, the morning light fades away. He awakens the maiden; the sun rises brilliantly from her bed and joyfully greets the natural world. However, light and dark are inextricably linked; day inevitably turns into night. As the sun sets in the evening and wraps herself in flames once again, day approaches again—not in the youthful form of morning to wake her up, but in the somber shape of Gunther, to rest beside her. Day has transformed into night; this signifies the change of forms. The wall of flames vanishes, and day and sun descend into darkness. Viewed this way, the Siegfried story is a myth about the day; in another perspective, it's a myth about the year. The dragon symbolizes winter, while the dwarfs represent darkness. Siegfried stands for bright summer, and his sword represents sunlight. The youthful year matures during the dark days of winter. When its time arrives, it emerges triumphantly, defeating the darkness and cold of winter. Through symbolism, abstract concepts become tangible and take on personas; thus, the saga is not just an allegory, but a personification of nature’s forces. The treasure may have worked its way into the saga through the common idea of a dragon as a treasure guardian, or it may symbolize the beauty of nature that unfolds when seasons change. In the saga's final act, Siegfried's death is seen by Wilmanns, the leading proponent of this view, as a symbolic representation of a natural process. He interprets it as the death of the god of the year in winter. In spring, he defeats the dragon, while in winter, he grows weary and meets a vile end at the hands of dark forces. Later on, when this act was tied to Gunther’s pursuit of Brunhild, its true meaning was lost, and Siegfried's death was attributed to the sorrow and jealousy of the offended queen.
Opposed now to the mythological interpretation is the other view already spoken of, which denies the possibility of mythological features, and does not seek to trace the legend beyond the heroic stage. The best exponent of this view is R. C. Boer, who has made a remarkable attempt to resolve the story into its simplest constituents. According to him the nucleus of the legend is an old story of the murder of relatives ("Verwandienmord"), the original form being perhaps as follows. Attila (i.e., the enemy of Hagen under any name) is married to Hagen's sister Grimhild or Gudrun. He invites his brother-in-law to his house, attacks him in the hope of obtaining his treasure, and kills him. According to this view Hagen was originally the king, but later sinks to a subordinate position through the subsequent connection of the story with the Burgundians. It is of course useless to hunt for the date of such an episode in history. Such a murder could have frequently occurred, and can be localized anywhere. Very early we find this Hagen story united with the Siegfried legend. If the latter is mythological, then we have a heterogeneous combination, a mythical legend grafted on a purely human one. This Boer thinks unlikely, and presents a number of arguments to disprove the mythical character of the Siegfried story, into which we cannot enter here. He comes, however, to the conclusion, that the Siegfried tale is likewise purely human, and consisted originally of the murder of relatives, that is, a repetition of the Hagen title. Siegfried is married to Hagen's sister, and is killed by his brother-in-law because of his treasure. The kernel of the legend is, therefore, the enmity between relatives, which exists in two forms, the one in which the son-in-law kills his father-in-law, as in the "Helgi" saga, the other in which Hagen kills his son-in-law and is killed by him, too, as in the "Hilde" saga. The German tradition tries to combine the two by introducing the new feature, that Kriemhild causes the death of her relatives, in order to avenge her first husband. Boer is of the opinion that both the Norse and the German versions have forgotten the original connection between the two stories, and that this connection was nothing more nor less than the common motive of the treasure. The same treasure, which causes Hagen to murder Siegfried, causes his own death in turn through the greed of Attila. There was originally, according to Boer, no question of revenge, except the revenge of fate, the retribution which overtakes the criminal. This feeling for the irony of fate was lost when the motive, that Hagen kills Siegfried because of his treasure, was replaced by the one that he does it at the request of Brunhild. This leads Boer to the conclusion, that Brunhild did not originally belong to the Siegfried story, but to the well-known fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty ("Erlosungsmurchen"), which occurs in a variety of forms. The type is that of a hero who rescues a maiden from a magic charm, which may take the form of a deep sleep, as in the case of Sleeping Beauty, or of being sewed into a garment, as in No. 111 of Grimm's fairy tales. By the union of the two stories, i.e., the Hagen-Siegfried saga with the Sleeping Beauty tale, Siegfried stands in relation to two women; on the one hand his relation to Sigrdrifa-Brynhild, the maiden whom he rescues on the rock, on the other his marriage with Grimhild-Gudrun and his consequent death. This twofold relation had to be disposed of, and since his connection with Grimhild was decisive for his fate, his relation to Brunhild had to be changed. It could not be entirely ignored, for it was too well known, therefore it was given a different interpretation. Siegfried still rescues a maiden from the rock, not for himself, however, but for another. The exchange of forms on the part of Siegfried and Gunther is a reminiscence of the older form. It gives the impression, that Siegfried, and yet not Siegfried, won the bride. This alteration probably took place when the Burgundians were introduced into the legend. With this introduction an unlocalized saga of unknown heroes of ancient times became one of events of world-wide importance; the fall of a mighty race was depicted as the result of Siegfried's death. To render this plausible, it was necessary on the one hand to idealize the hero, so that his death should appear as a deed of horror demanding fearful vengeance, and on the other, to make the king of the Burgundians an active participator in Siegfried's death, for otherwise it would not seem natural, that the whole race should be exterminated for a crime committed by the king's brother or vassal. As the role of Brunhild's husband had become vacant, and as Gunther had no special role, it was natural that it should be given to him. Boer traces very ingeniously the gradual development of this exchange of roles through the various sources.
Now opposed to the mythological interpretation is another view that denies the possibility of mythological elements and doesn’t try to trace the legend beyond its heroic stage. The best representative of this view is R. C. Boer, who has made a remarkable attempt to break the story down into its simplest parts. He argues that the core of the legend revolves around an old story of the murder of relatives ("Verwandienmord"), likely in this original form: Attila (the enemy of Hagen, regardless of the name) is married to Hagen's sister Grimhild or Gudrun. He invites his brother-in-law to his home, attacks him in the hopes of getting his treasure, and kills him. According to this perspective, Hagen was originally the king but later falls to a subordinate position as the story becomes connected with the Burgundians. It’s pointless to seek a historical date for such an event. Such murders could have happened frequently and could occur anywhere. Very early on, we see this Hagen story linked with the Siegfried legend. If the latter is mythological, then we have a mixed combination: a mythical legend grafted onto a purely human one. Boer finds this unlikely and offers several arguments to prove the Siegfried story isn't mythical, which we can’t explore here. However, he concludes that the Siegfried tale is also purely human, originating from the murder of relatives, which is a repetition of the Hagen premise. Siegfried marries Hagen's sister and gets killed by his brother-in-law over his treasure. So, the core of the legend is the conflict between relatives, existing in two forms: one where a son-in-law kills his father-in-law, like in the "Helgi" saga, and the other where Hagen kills his son-in-law and is killed by him, too, as in the "Hilde" saga. The German tradition attempts to merge the two by introducing a new aspect where Kriemhild causes the deaths of her relatives to avenge her first husband. Boer believes that both the Norse and German versions have lost the original connection between the two stories, solely based on the common motive of the treasure. The same treasure that drives Hagen to murder Siegfried ultimately leads to his own death due to Attila’s greed. According to Boer, there was originally no sense of revenge, except for fate’s revenge, the consequences of the criminal’s actions. This understanding of fate’s irony was lost when the motive shifted from Hagen killing Siegfried for his treasure to doing it at Brunhild's request. This leads Boer to conclude that Brunhild didn't originally belong to the Siegfried tale but was part of the well-known fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty ("Erlosungsmurchen"), found in various forms. The type includes a hero rescuing a maiden from a magical spell, which could manifest as a deep sleep like in Sleeping Beauty, or being sewn into a garment, like in No. 111 of Grimm's fairy tales. Through combining the two stories—the Hagen-Siegfried saga with the Sleeping Beauty tale—Siegfried relates to two women; one being Sigrdrifa-Brynhild, the maiden he rescues from the rock, and the other being his marriage to Grimhild-Gudrun, leading to his eventual demise. This dual relationship needed resolution, and since his bond with Grimhild was crucial for his fate, his relationship with Brunhild had to be altered. It couldn’t be entirely ignored since it was too well known, so it was given a different interpretation. Siegfried still rescues a maiden from the rock, but not for himself; instead, he does it for another. The role exchange between Siegfried and Gunther recalls the older version, creating the impression that Siegfried, yet not Siegfried, won the bride. This change likely occurred when the Burgundians were introduced into the legend. With this addition, an unlocalized tale of unknown heroes from ancient times became one of worldwide importance; the downfall of a powerful race was depicted as the result of Siegfried's death. To make this believable, it was necessary to idealize the hero so that his death appeared as a horrific act demanding severe vengeance, while also making the king of the Burgundians an active participant in Siegfried's death; otherwise, it wouldn’t seem natural for an entire race to be wiped out for a crime committed by the king’s brother or vassal. As Brunhild's husband’s role became vacant, and Gunther didn’t have a significant role, it was natural for him to take on that part. Boer cleverly traces the gradual development of this role exchange through various sources.
Another method of explaining away Siegfried's relation to two women is to identify them, and this has been done by the Seyfrid ballad. Here the hero rescues Kriemhild from the power of the dragon, marries her, and then is later killed by her brothers through envy and hatred. As Brunhild and Kriemhild are here united in one person, there is no need of a wooing for the king, nor of vengeance on the part of Brunhild, accordingly the old motive of greed (here envy) reappears.
Another way to explain Siegfried's relationship with two women is to identify them, which has been done in the Seyfrid ballad. In this version, the hero saves Kriemhild from the dragon, marries her, and is later killed by her brothers out of envy and hatred. Since Brunhild and Kriemhild are combined into one character, there's no need for the king to woo anyone, nor does Brunhild seek revenge, so the classic theme of greed (in this case, envy) comes back into play.
As to the fight with the dragon, Boer believes that it did not originally belong to the saga, for in none of the sources except the popular ballad is the fight with the dragon connected with the release of Brunhild. If the Siegfried-Hagen story is purely human, then the dragon cannot have originally belonged to it, but was later introduced, because of the widespread belief in the dragon as the guardian of treasure, and in order to answer the question as to the provenience of the hoard. This is, however, only one answer to the question. Another, widespread in German legends, is that the treasure comes from the Nibelungs, that is, from the dwarfs. Many identify the dwarfs and the dragon, but this finds no support in the sources, for here the dwarfs and Fafnir are never confused. The "Nibelungenlied" describes an adventure with each, but the treasure is only connected with the dwarfs. The "Thidreksaga" knows only the dragon fight but not the dwarfs, as is likewise the case with the Seyfrid ballad. Only in the Norse sources do we find a contamination. The story of Hreithmar and his sons, who quarrel about the treasure, resembles that of Schilbung and Nibelung in the "Nibelungenlied", and probably has the same source. One of the sons, because of his guarding the treasure, is identified with the dragon, and so we read that Fafnir becomes a dragon, after gaining the treasure. Originally, however, he was not a dragon, but a dwarf. These two independent forms can be geographically localized. The dwarf legend is the more southern; it is told in detail in the "Nibelungenlied". The dragon legend probably originated in the Cimbrian peninsula, where the "Beowulf" saga, in which the dragon fight plays such an important part, likewise arose.
Regarding the fight with the dragon, Boer thinks that it wasn’t originally part of the saga. None of the sources, except for the popular ballad, link the dragon fight with the release of Brunhild. If the Siegfried-Hagen story is entirely human, then the dragon must not have originally been part of it, but was added later due to the widespread belief in dragons as treasure guardians, to explain the origin of the hoard. However, this is just one possible explanation. Another, common in German legends, is that the treasure comes from the Nibelungs, or dwarfs. Many people connect the dwarfs and the dragon, but this is not supported by the sources, as dwarfs and Fafnir are never mixed up. The "Nibelungenlied" describes an adventure with both, but the treasure is only linked to the dwarfs. The "Thidreksaga" mentions only the dragon fight and not the dwarfs, which is also true for the Seyfrid ballad. Only in the Norse sources do we see a mixture of the two. The story of Hreithmar and his sons, who argue over the treasure, is similar to that of Schilbung and Nibelung in the "Nibelungenlied", and likely comes from the same source. One of the sons, for guarding the treasure, is equated with the dragon, leading to the tale that Fafnir becomes a dragon after acquiring the treasure. Originally, however, he was not a dragon but a dwarf. These two distinct forms can be geographically identified. The dwarf legend is more southern and is detailed in the "Nibelungenlied". The dragon legend likely originated in the Cimbrian peninsula, where the "Beowulf" saga, which also prominently features the dragon fight, was created.
There thus stand sharply opposed to each other two theories, one seeing in the Siegfried saga a personification of natural forces, the other tracing it back to a purely human story of murder through greed. It may be, that the true form of the original saga lies half way between these two views. The story of the fall of the Nibelungs, that is, their killing at Etzel's court, may go back to the tale of the murder of relatives for money. On the other hand it is hard to believe that the Siegfried saga is nothing but a repetition of the Attila motive, for this is too brief a formula to which to reduce the long legend of Siegfried, with its many deeds. Even if we discard the mythological interpretation, it is the tale of a daring hero, who is brought up in the woods by a cunning dwarf. He kills a dragon and takes possession of his hoard, then rescues a maiden, imprisoned upon a mountain, as in the older Norse version and the popular ballad, or in a tower, as in the "Thidreksaga", and surrounded either by a wall of fire, as in the Norse, or by a large body of water, as in the "Nibelungenlied". After betrothing himself to the maiden, he sets forth in search of further adventures, and falls into the power of an evil race, who by their magic arts lure him to them, cause his destruction, and then obtain his treasure and the maiden for themselves. By her very name Sigrdrifa belongs to Siegfried, just as Gunther and Gudrun-Grimhild belong together, and it seems hardly possible that she should have entered the story later, as Boer would have us believe. After all, it is largely a matter of belief, for it is impossible to prove positively that mythical elements did or did not exist in the original.
There are two theories that stand in sharp contrast to each other: one views the Siegfried saga as a symbol of natural forces, while the other connects it to a purely human story of murder driven by greed. It's possible that the true form of the original saga lies somewhere between these two perspectives. The story of the fall of the Nibelungs, meaning their deaths at Etzel's court, may originate from the tale of relatives being killed for money. On the other hand, it's difficult to believe that the Siegfried saga is just a restatement of the Attila motif, as that is too simplistic a formula to encompass the extensive legend of Siegfried, which includes many heroic deeds. Even if we dismiss the mythological interpretation, it tells the story of a brave hero raised in the woods by a clever dwarf. He slays a dragon and claims its treasure, then rescues a maiden imprisoned on a mountain, as in the earlier Norse version and the popular ballad, or in a tower, as in the "Thidreksaga," and surrounded by either a wall of fire, as in the Norse myth, or by a large body of water, as in the "Nibelungenlied." After becoming betrothed to the maiden, he embarks on further adventures and falls under the influence of an evil race who use their magical powers to ensnare him, lead to his downfall, and then take his treasure and the maiden for themselves. By her very name, Sigrdrifa is connected to Siegfried, just as Gunther and Gudrun-Grimhild are intertwined, making it hard to believe that she entered the story later, as Boer suggests. Ultimately, it comes down to belief, as it's impossible to definitively prove whether mythical elements were present in the original saga or not.
To the combined Siegfried-Nibelung story various historical elements were added during the fifth century. At the beginning of this period the Franks were located on the left bank of the Rhine from Coblenz downward. Further up the river, that is, to the south, the Burgundians had established a kingdom in what is now the Rhenish Palatinate, their capital being Worms and their king "Gundahar", or "Gundicarius", as the Romans called him. For twenty years the Burgundians lived on good terms with the surrounding nations. Then, growing bolder, they suddenly rose against the Romans in the year 436, but the rebellion was quietly suppressed by the Roman general Aetius. Though defeated, the Burgundians were not subdued, and the very next year they broke their oaths and again sought to throw off the Roman yoke. This time the Romans called to their aid the hordes of Huns, who had been growing rapidly in power and were already pressing hard upon the German nations from the east. Only too glad for an excuse, the Huns poured into the land in great numbers and practically swept the Burgundian people from the face of the earth. According to the Roman historians, twenty thousand Burgundians were slain in this great battle of the Catalaunian Fields. Naturally this catastrophe, in which a whole German nation fell before the hordes of invading barbarians, produced a profound impression upon the Teutonic world. The King Gundahar, the Gunther of the "Nibelungenlied", who also fell in the battle, became the central figure of a new legend, namely, the story of the fall of the Burgundians.
To the combined Siegfried-Nibelung story, various historical elements were added during the fifth century. At the start of this period, the Franks were located on the left bank of the Rhine from Coblenz downwards. Further upstream, to the south, the Burgundians had established a kingdom in what is now the Rhenish Palatinate, with their capital in Worms and their king named "Gundahar," or "Gundicarius," as the Romans called him. For twenty years, the Burgundians lived in peace with the surrounding nations. Then, growing bolder, they suddenly rose against the Romans in the year 436, but the rebellion was quietly put down by the Roman general Aetius. Although defeated, the Burgundians weren’t subdued, and the very next year they broke their oaths and attempted again to shake off the Roman control. This time, the Romans called upon the Huns for help, who were rapidly gaining power and were already pressuring the German tribes from the east. Eager for an excuse, the Huns surged into the territory in large numbers and nearly wiped out the Burgundian people. According to Roman historians, twenty thousand Burgundians were killed in this great battle of the Catalaunian Fields. Naturally, this disaster, where an entire German nation fell before the waves of invading barbarians, had a profound impact on the Teutonic world. King Gundahar, the Gunther of the "Nibelungenlied," who also died in the battle, became the central figure of a new legend, namely, the story of the fall of the Burgundians.
Attila is not thought to have taken part in the invasion, still, after his death in 454, his name gradually came to be associated with the slaughter of the Burgundians, for a legend operates mainly with types, and as Attila was a Hun and throughout the Middle Ages was looked upon as the type of a cruel tyrant, greedy for conquest, it was but natural for him to play the rôle assigned to him in the legend. Quite plausible is Boer's explanation of the entrance of Attila into the legend. The "Thidreksaga" locates him in Seest in Westphalia. Now this province once bore the name of "Hunaland", and by a natural confusion, because of the similarity of the names, "Huna" and "Huns", Attila, who is the chief representative of Hunnish power, was connected with the legend and located at Seest. This would show that the original extension of the legend was slight, as Xanten, the home of Hagen, is but seventy miles from Seest. The original form would then be that Hagen was slain by a king of "Hunaland", then because history relates that the Burgundians were slain by the Huns, the similarity of the names led to the introduction of Attila and the identification of the Nibelungs with the Burgundians. The fact, too, that the Franks rapidly took possession of the district depopulated by the crushing defeat of the Burgundians likewise aided the confusion, and thus the Franks became the natural heirs of the legend concerning the death of Gunther, and so we read of the fall of the Nibelungs, a name that is wholly Frankish in character. This identification led also to Attila's being considered the avenger of Siegfried's death. Poetic justice, however, demands that the slaughter of the Burgundians at the hands of Attila be also avenged. The rumor, that Attila's death was not natural, but that he had been murdered by his wife Ildico ("Hildiko"), gave the necessary features to round out the story. As Kriemhild was the sister of the Burgundian kings, it was but natural to explain her killing of Attila, as described in the Norse versions, by her desire to avenge her brothers.
Attila is not believed to have participated in the invasion, but after his death in 454, his name slowly became linked to the massacre of the Burgundians. This is because legends often focus on archetypes, and since Attila was a Hun and was seen throughout the Middle Ages as a cruel tyrant obsessed with conquest, it made sense for him to fulfill that role in the legend. Boer's explanation of how Attila entered the legend is quite believable. The "Thidreksaga" places him in Seest in Westphalia, which was once called "Hunaland." Due to the similarity between "Huna" and "Huns," Attila, as the main figure representing Hunnish power, became connected to the legend and was situated in Seest. This suggests that the initial scope of the legend was limited, as Xanten, the home of Hagen, is only about seventy miles from Seest. The original version would then state that Hagen was killed by a king from "Hunaland." Later, since history mentions that the Burgundians were defeated by the Huns, the name similarity led to the inclusion of Attila and the association of the Nibelungs with the Burgundians. Additionally, the rapid takeover of the area by the Franks, following the brutal defeat of the Burgundians, contributed to the confusion, making the Franks the natural successors of the legend about Gunther's death. Consequently, we read about the fall of the Nibelungs, a name that is entirely Frankish in nature. This identification also led to Attila being viewed as the avenger of Siegfried's death. However, poetic justice requires that the massacre of the Burgundians at Attila's hands be avenged as well. The rumor that Attila's death was not natural and that he was murdered by his wife Ildico ("Hildiko") provided the necessary elements to complete the narrative. Since Kriemhild was the sister of the Burgundian kings, it made sense to interpret her killing of Attila, as described in the Norse versions, as a desire to avenge her brothers.
In our "Nibelungenlied", however, it is no longer Attila, but Kriemhild, who is the central figure of the tragedy. Etzel, as he is called here, has sunk to the insignificant role of a stage king, a perfectly passive observer of the fight raging around him. This change was brought about perhaps by the introduction of Dietrich of Berne, the most imposing figure of all Germanic heroic lore. The necessity of providing him with a role corresponding to his importance, coupled with a growing repugnance on the part of the proud Franks to acknowledge defeat at the hands of the Huns, caused the person of Attila to dwindle in importance. Gradually, too, the role played by Kriemhild was totally changed. Instead of being the avenger of her brothers, as depicted in the Norse versions, she herself becomes the cause of their destruction. Etzel is not only innocent of any desire to harm the Nibelungs, but is even ignorant of the revenge planned by his wife. This change in her role was probably due to the feeling that it was incumbent upon her to avenge the murder of Siegfried.
In our "Nibelungenlied," however, it’s no longer Attila but Kriemhild who takes center stage in the tragedy. Etzel, as he's called here, has been reduced to the unimportant role of a mere stage king, a completely passive bystander to the chaos unfolding around him. This shift probably happened because of the introduction of Dietrich of Berne, the most impressive figure in all Germanic heroic tales. The need to give him a role that matched his significance, along with the growing reluctance of the proud Franks to accept defeat at the hands of the Huns, led to a decrease in Attila’s importance. Gradually, Kriemhild’s role also changed entirely. Instead of being the avenger of her brothers, as depicted in the Norse versions, she becomes the reason for their downfall. Etzel is not only unaware of any desire to harm the Nibelungs, but he is also ignorant of the revenge his wife is plotting. This shift in her role was likely due to the sense that it was her duty to avenge Siegfried’s murder.
Our "Nibelungenlied" knows but little of the adventures of Siegfried's youth as depicted in the Norse versions. The theme of the poem is no longer the love of Sigurd, the homeless wanderer, for the majestic Valkyrie Brunhild, but the love idyll of Siegfried, the son of the king of the Netherlands, and the dainty Burgundian princess Kriemhild. The poem has forgotten Siegfried's connection with Brunhild; it knows nothing of his penetrating the wall of flames to awake and rescue her, nothing of the betrothal of the two. In our poem Siegfried is carefully reared at his father's court in the Netherlands, and sets out with great pomp for the court of the Burgundians. In the Norse version he naturally remains at Gunther's court after his marriage, but in our poem he returns to the Netherlands with his bride. This necessitates the introduction of several new scenes to depict his arrival home, the invitation to the feast at Worms, and the reception of the guests on the part of the Burgundians.
Our "Nibelungenlied" covers very little of Siegfried's youthful adventures as shown in the Norse versions. The focus of the poem is no longer the love story of Sigurd, the wandering outcast, and the powerful Valkyrie Brunhild, but instead centers on the love story of Siegfried, the prince of the Netherlands, and the charming Burgundian princess Kriemhild. The poem has overlooked Siegfried's link to Brunhild; it doesn’t mention his crossing through the wall of flames to wake and rescue her, or any engagement between them. In our poem, Siegfried is raised with care in his father’s court in the Netherlands, and he departs with great fanfare for the court of the Burgundians. In the Norse version, he naturally stays at Gunther's court after getting married, but in our poem, he returns to the Netherlands with his bride. This requires adding several new scenes to show his arrival home, the invitation to the feast at Worms, and the Burgundians' reception of the guests.
In the "Nibelungenlied" the athletic sports, as an obstacle to the winning of Brunhild, take the place of the wall of flames of the older Norse versions. Siegfried and Gunther no longer change forms, but Siegfried dons the "Tarnkappe", which renders him invisible, so that while Gunther makes the motions, Siegfried really does the work, a thing which is rather difficult to imagine. The quarrel of the two queens is likewise very differently depicted in the "Nibelungenlied" from what it is in the Norse version. In the latter it takes place while the ladies are bathing in the river, and is brought on by the arrogance of Brunhild, who refuses to stand lower down the stream and bathe in the water flowing from Gudrun to her. In the "Thidreksaga" it occurs in the seclusion of the ladies' apartments, but in our poem it culminates in front of the cathedral before the assembled court, and requires as its background all the pomp and splendor of medieval chivalry. With a master hand and a wonderful knowledge of female character, the author depicts the gradual progress of the quarrel until it terminates in a magnificent scene of wounded pride and malignant hatred. Kriemhild, as usual, plays the more important part, and, while standing up for her rights, tries in every way to conciliate Brunhild and not to hurt her feelings. At last, however, stung by the taunts of the latter, she in turn loses her patience, bursts out with the whole story of the twofold deception to which Brunhild has been subjected, and then triumphantly sweeps into the church, leaving her rival stunned and humiliated by the news she has heard. In the Norse tradition the scene serves merely to enlighten Brunhild as to the deception played upon her. In the "Nibelungenlied" it becomes the real cause of Siegfried's death, for Brunhild plans to kill Siegfried to avenge the public slight done to her. She has no other reason, as Siegfried swears that there had been no deception. Brunhild appeals to us much less in the "Nibelungenlied" than in the Norse version. In the latter she feels herself deeply wronged by Siegfried's faithlessness, and resolves on his death because she will not be the wife of two men. In our poem she has no reason for wishing his death except her wounded pride. In the "Nibelungenlied", too, she disappears from view after Siegfried's death, whereas in the Norse tradition she ascends his funeral pyre and dies at his side.
In the "Nibelungenlied," the athletic challenges that stand in the way of winning Brunhild replace the wall of flames found in the older Norse versions. Siegfried and Gunther no longer change forms, but Siegfried wears the "Tarnkappe," which makes him invisible, so while Gunther pretends to compete, Siegfried is actually the one doing the work, which is quite hard to picture. The argument between the two queens is also portrayed very differently in the "Nibelungenlied" compared to the Norse version. In the latter, it happens while the women are bathing in the river, triggered by Brunhild's arrogance, as she refuses to stand further down the stream and bathe in the water that flows from Gudrun to her. In the "Thidreksaga," it occurs in the privacy of the women's quarters, but in our poem, it escalates in front of the cathedral before the gathered court, requiring all the pomp and splendor of medieval chivalry as its backdrop. With great skill and a deep understanding of female character, the author shows the gradual buildup of the argument until it ends in a spectacular scene of wounded pride and deep-seated hatred. Kriemhild, as usual, plays the more significant role and, while defending her rights, tries every way to placate Brunhild and avoid hurting her feelings. However, eventually provoked by Brunhild’s taunts, she loses her patience, reveals the entire story of the double deception Brunhild has faced, and then triumphantly walks into the church, leaving her rival shocked and humiliated by what she has just learned. In the Norse tradition, this scene simply serves to inform Brunhild about the trick played on her. In the "Nibelungenlied," it becomes the true reason behind Siegfried’s death, as Brunhild plots to kill him to avenge the public insult she has suffered. She has no other motive since Siegfried swears that there was no deception. Brunhild is much less sympathetic in the "Nibelungenlied" than in the Norse version. In the latter, she feels deeply wronged by Siegfried’s betrayal and decides on his death because she refuses to share her marriage with two men. In our poem, her desire for his death stems only from her wounded pride. In the "Nibelungenlied," she also vanishes from the scene after Siegfried’s death, while in the Norse tradition, she ascends his funeral pyre and dies beside him.
The circumstances of Siegfried's death are likewise totally different in the two versions. In the Norse, as we have seen, he is murdered while asleep in bed, by Gunnar's younger brother Gutthorm. In our poem he is killed by Hagen, while bending over a spring to drink. This is preceded by a scene in which Hagen treacherously induces Kriemhild to mark the one vulnerable spot on Siegfried's body, on the plea of protecting him. This deepens the tragedy, and renders Kriemhild's misery and self-reproaches the greater. After Siegfried's burial his father, who had also come to Worms with his son, vainly endeavors to persuade Kriemhild to return with him to the Netherlands. Her refusal is unnatural in the extreme, for she had reigned there ten years or more with Siegfried, and had left her little son behind, and yet she relinquishes all this and remains with her brothers, whom she knows to be the murderers of her husband. This is evidently a reminiscence of an earlier form in which Siegfried was a homeless adventurer, as in the "Thidreksaga".
The circumstances of Siegfried's death are completely different in the two versions. In the Norse version, as we’ve seen, he is murdered in his sleep by Gunnar's younger brother Gutthorm. In our poem, he is killed by Hagen while leaning over a spring to drink. This is preceded by a scene where Hagen deceitfully convinces Kriemhild to identify Siegfried's only vulnerable spot, claiming it's to protect him. This adds to the tragedy and intensifies Kriemhild's misery and self-blame. After Siegfried's burial, his father, who also came to Worms with his son, tries in vain to convince Kriemhild to return with him to the Netherlands. Her refusal is extremely unnatural, as she had ruled there for ten years or more with Siegfried and left her young son behind; yet, she gives all this up and stays with her brothers, whom she knows are her husband's murderers. This clearly reflects an earlier version where Siegfried was a homeless adventurer, as seen in the "Thidreksaga."
The second half of the tale, the destruction of the Nibelungs, is treated of very briefly in the early Norse versions, but the "Nibelungenlied", which knows so little of Siegfried's youth, has developed and enlarged upon the story, until it overshadows the first part in length and importance and gives the name to the whole poem. The main difference between the two versions is that in the older Norse tradition it is Attila who invites the Nibelungs to his court and attacks them in order to gain possession of the treasure, while Gudrun (Kriemhild) first tries to reconcile the warring parties, and, not succeeding in this, snatches up a sword and fights on the side of her brothers and later kills her husband as an act of revenge. In the "Thidreksaga" and the "Nibelungenlied", however, she is the instigator of the fight and the cause of her brothers' death, and finally suffers death herself at the hands of Master Hildebrand, who is furious that such noble heroes should fall at a woman's hand. The second part of the poem is grewsome reading at best, with its weltering corpses and torrents of blood. The horror is relieved only by the grim humor of Hagen and by the charming scene at Rudeger's court, where the young prince Giselher is betrothed to Rudeger's daughter. Rudeger is without doubt the most tragic figure of this part. He is bound on the one hand by his oath of allegiance to Kriemhild and on the other by ties of friendship to the Burgundians. His agony of mind at the dilemma in which Kriemhild's command to attack the Burgundians places him is pitiful. Divided between love and duty, the conviction that he must fulfill his vow, cost what it may, gradually forces itself upon him and he rushes to his death in combat with his dearest friends.
The second half of the story, the downfall of the Nibelungs, is covered very briefly in the early Norse versions, but the "Nibelungenlied," which says very little about Siegfried's youth, has expanded and elaborated on the tale until it becomes longer and more significant than the first part, giving the entire poem its name. The main difference between the two versions is that in the older Norse tradition, it is Attila who invites the Nibelungs to his court and attacks them to get the treasure, while Gudrun (Kriemhild) first tries to mediate between the fighting parties, and when that doesn’t work out, she grabs a sword and fights alongside her brothers, ultimately killing her husband as revenge. In the "Thidreksaga" and the "Nibelungenlied," however, she is the one who instigates the conflict and causes her brothers' deaths, and ultimately, she meets her end at the hands of Master Hildebrand, who is enraged that such noble heroes fall because of a woman. The second part of the poem is gruesome to read, filled with corpses and streams of blood. The horror is only lightened by the dark humor of Hagen and by the charming moment at Rudeger’s court, where young prince Giselher is engaged to Rudeger’s daughter. Rudeger is undoubtedly the most tragic figure in this part. He is torn between his loyalty to Kriemhild and his friendship with the Burgundians. His mental torment over the dilemma caused by Kriemhild's order to attack the Burgundians is heartbreaking. Caught between love and duty, the belief that he must uphold his oath, no matter the cost, gradually takes hold of him, and he rushes to his death in battle against his closest friends.
Towering above all others in its gloomy grandeur stands the figure of Hagen, the real hero of the second half of the poem. Fully aware that he is going to his death, he nevertheless scorns to desert his companions-in-arms, and awaits the fate in store for him with a stoicism that would do honor to a Spartan. He calmly accepts the consequences of his crime, and to the last mocks and scoffs at Kriemhild, until her fury knows no bounds. No character shows so little the refining influences of Christianity as does his. In all essential respects he is still the same old gigantic Teuton, who meets us in the earliest forms of the legend.
Towering above all others in its dark grandeur is the figure of Hagen, the true hero of the second half of the poem. Fully aware that he is heading toward his death, he still refuses to abandon his fellow soldiers and faces the fate that awaits him with a stoicism that would make a Spartan proud. He accepts the consequences of his actions calmly and, until the end, mocks and taunts Kriemhild, driving her rage to its limits. No character reveals the transformative effects of Christianity as little as he does. In all significant ways, he remains the same massive Teuton we encounter in the earliest versions of the legend.
As to the various minor characters, many of which appear only in the "Nibelungenlied", space will not permit of their discussion here, although they will be treated of briefly in the notes. Suffice it to say, that the "Nibelungenlied" has introduced a number of effective scenes for the purpose of bringing some of them, especially Folker and Dankwart, into prominence. Among the best of these are, first, the night watch, when Folker first plays the Burgundians to sleep with his violin, and then stands guard with Hagen, thus preventing the surprise planned by Kriemhild; further, the visit to the church on the following morning, when the men of both parties clash; and lastly the tournament between the Huns and the Burgundians, which gives the author an excellent chance to show the prowess of the various heroes.
As for the various minor characters, many of whom only appear in the "Nibelungenlied," there isn’t enough space to discuss them here, though they will be briefly addressed in the notes. It’s enough to say that the "Nibelungenlied" includes several impactful scenes to highlight some of them, particularly Folker and Dankwart. Among the best scenes are, first, the night watch, when Folker lulls the Burgundians to sleep with his violin and then stands guard with Hagen, preventing the surprise Kriemhild had planned; next is the visit to the church the following morning, where the men from both sides clash; and finally, the tournament between the Huns and the Burgundians, which gives the author a great opportunity to showcase the skills of the various heroes.
Let us pass now to the consideration of the strophic form of the "Nibelungenlied". The two Danish ballads of "Grimhild's Revenge" ("Grimhild's Haevn"), which are based upon the first combination of the Low German, i.e., Saxon, and the Rhenish traditions, prove that the strophe is considerably older than the preserved redactions of our poem, and that it was probably of Saxon origin. The metrical form goes back most probably to the four-accented verse of the poet Otfrid of the ninth century, although some have thought that Latin hymns, others that the French epic verse, may have been of influence. The direct derivation from Otfrid seems, however, the most plausible, as it accounts for the importance of the caesura, which generally marks a pause in the sense, as well as in the verse, and also for its masculine ending. The "Nibelungen" strophe consists of four long lines separated by a caesura into two distinct halves. The first half of each line contains four accents, the fourth falling upon the last syllable. This last stress, however, is not, as a rule as strong as the others, the effect being somewhat like that of a feminine ending. On this account some speak of three accents in the first half line, with a feminine ending. The fourth stress is, however, too strong to be thus disregarded, but because of its lighter character is best marked with a grave accent. The second half of each line ends in a masculine rhyme. The first three lines have each three stresses in the second half, while the second half of the fourth line has four accents to mark the end of the strophe. This longer fourth line is one of the most marked characteristics of the "Nibelungen" strophe. The rhymes are arranged in the order of "a", "a", "b", "b", though in a few isolated cases near the end of the poem but one rhyme is used throughout the strophe.
Let’s now consider the strophic form of the "Nibelungenlied." The two Danish ballads of "Grimhild's Revenge" ("Grimhild's Haevn"), which are based on the early combination of Low German, specifically Saxon, and Rhenish traditions, show that the strophe is much older than the preserved versions of our poem, and it likely originated in Saxony. The metrical form probably traces back to the four-accented verse of poet Otfrid in the ninth century, although some believe it may have been influenced by Latin hymns or French epic verse. However, the direct connection to Otfrid seems most likely, as it explains the significance of the caesura, which typically indicates a pause in both meaning and verse, as well as the masculine ending. The "Nibelungen" strophe consists of four long lines divided by a caesura into two distinct parts. The first half of each line has four accents, with the fourth hitting on the last syllable. This last emphasis, though, is usually not as strong as the others, resulting in an effect somewhat akin to a feminine ending. Because of this, some refer to three accents in the first half line, with a feminine ending. Yet the fourth stress is too strong to be ignored, so it’s best marked with a grave accent due to its lighter nature. The second half of each line ends with a masculine rhyme. The first three lines each have three stresses in the second half, while the second half of the fourth line has four accents to close off the strophe. This longer fourth line is one of the standout features of the "Nibelungen" strophe. The rhymes are arranged in the pattern "a", "a", "b", "b," although in a few isolated cases near the end of the poem only one rhyme is used throughout the strophe.
The opening lines of the poem may serve to illustrate the strophic form and scansion, and at the same time will give the reader an idea of the Middle High German language in which the poem is written:
The opening lines of the poem can show the strophic form and rhythm while also giving the reader a sense of the Middle High German language in which the poem is written:
Uns ist in alten maeren wunders vil geseit von heleden lobebaeron, von grozer arebeit, von froude und hochgeziten, von weinen und von klagen, von kuener recken striten muget ir nu wunder hoeren sagen. Ez wuochs in Burgonden ein edel magedin, daz in allen landen niht schoeners mohte sin, Kriemhild geheizen; si wart ein scoene wip, darambe muosen degene vil verliesen den lip. Der minneclichen meide triuten wol gezam, ir muotten kuene recken, niemen was ir gram, ane ma zen schoene so was ir edel lip; der iunevrouwen tugende zierten anderiu wip. Ir pflagen drie künege edel unde rich, Gunther unde Gernot, die recken lobelich, und Giselher der iunge, ein uz erwelter degen, diu frouwe was ir swester, die fu'rsten hetens in ir pflegen. Die herren waren milte, von arde hohe erborn, mit kraft unmazen kuene, die recken uz erkorn, dazen Burgonden so was ir lant genant, si framden starkiu wunder sit in Etzelen lant. Ze Wormze bidem Rine si wenden mit ir kraft, in diende von ir landen stolziu ritterscaft mit lobelichen eren unz an ir endes zit, sit sturben si inemerliche von zweier edelen frouwen nit.
We have heard many wonders in old tales of noble heroes, of great deeds, of ladies and high festivals, of weeping and lamenting, of brave warriors' battles; now you can hear wonders told. In Burgundy, there grew a noble maiden, more beautiful than any in all lands, named Kriemhild; she was a lovely woman, for whom many warriors had to lose their lives. The lovely maid was truly adored, by bold knights; no one felt her sorrow, without comparing her beauty to that of others; her virtues outshone other women. Three kings courted her, noble and rich, Gunther and Gernot, the well-regarded knights, and young Giselher, a brave warrior, the lady was their sister, whom the princes treated with care. The lords were gracious, of high noble birth, extraordinarily brave, chosen warriors, who were in the land known as Burgundy, they faced strong wonders since in the land of Etzel. At Worms by the Rhine, they exerted their might, in service to their lands, proud knighthood with honorable renown until their end of time, since they never departed from two noble women.
Some of the final rhymes with proper names, such as "Hagene": "degene" (str. 84) or "Hagene": "tragene" (str. 300) appear to be feminine, but it is really the final "e" that rhymes, and a scansion of the line in question shows that the three accents are not complete without this final "e". In this respect our poem differs from most of the Middle High German poems, as this practice of using the final "e" in rhyme began to die out in the twelfth century, though occasionally found throughout the period. The rhymes are, as a rule, quite exact, the few cases of impure rhymes being mainly those in which short and long vowels are rhymed together, e.g. "mich": "rich" or "man": "han". Caesural rhymes are frequently met with, and were considered by Lachmann to be the marks of interpolated strophes, a view no longer held. A further peculiarity of the "Nibelungen" strophe is the frequent omission of the unaccented syllable in the second half of the last line of the strophe between the second and third stresses. Examples of this will be found in the second, third, and fifth strophes of the passage given above.
Some of the final rhymes with proper names, like "Hagene": "degene" (str. 84) or "Hagene": "tragene" (str. 300), seem to be feminine, but it's actually the final "e" that rhymes, and a scansion of the line in question shows that the three accents aren't complete without this final "e." In this way, our poem is different from most Middle High German poems, as this practice of using the final "e" in rhyme started to fade away in the twelfth century, though it’s occasionally found throughout the period. The rhymes are generally quite exact, with the few cases of imperfect rhymes mainly being those where short and long vowels are rhymed together, e.g., "mich": "rich" or "man": "han." Caesural rhymes occur frequently and were previously thought by Lachmann to be indicators of interpolated strophes, a view that is no longer accepted. Another distinctive feature of the "Nibelungen" strophe is the frequent omission of the unaccented syllable in the second half of the last line of the strophe between the second and third stresses. Examples of this can be found in the second, third, and fifth strophes of the passage provided above.
The language of the "Nibelungenlied" is the so-called Middle High German, that is, the High German written and spoken in the period between 1100 and 1500, the language of the great romances of chivalry and of the "Minnesingers". More exactly, the poem is written in the Austrian dialect of the close of the twelfth century, but contains many archaisms, which point to the fact of its having undergone a number of revisions.
The language of the "Nibelungenlied" is known as Middle High German, which refers to the High German used between 1100 and 1500, the time of the great chivalric romances and the "Minnesingers." Specifically, the poem is written in the Austrian dialect from the late twelfth century, but it includes many old-fashioned terms that indicate it has gone through several revisions.
In closing this brief study of the "Nibelungenlied", just a word or two further with reference to the poem, its character, and its place in German literature. Its theme is the ancient Teutonic ideal of "Treue" (faithfulness or fidelity), which has found here its most magnificent portrayal; faithfulness unto death, the loyalty of the vassal for his lord, as depicted in Hagen, the fidelity of the wife for her husband, as shown by Kriemhild, carried out with unhesitating consistency to the bitter end. This is not the gallantry of medieval chivalry, which colors so largely the opening scenes of the poem, but the heroic valor, the death-despising stoicism of the ancient Germans, before which the masters of the world, the all-conquering Romans, were compelled to bow.
In closing this brief study of the "Nibelungenlied," I’d like to say a few more words about the poem, its character, and its significance in German literature. Its theme centers on the ancient Teutonic ideal of "Treue" (faithfulness or loyalty), which is brilliantly illustrated here; loyalty unto death, the dedication of a vassal to his lord, as seen with Hagen, and the devotion of a wife to her husband, represented by Kriemhild, carried out with unwavering commitment to the bitter end. This isn’t the chivalry of medieval knights, which plays a big role in the poem’s early scenes, but the heroic courage and death-defying stoicism of the ancient Germans, to which even the powerful Romans had to bow.
In so far as the "Nibelungenlied" has forgotten most of the history of the youthful Siegfried, and knows nothing of his love for Brunhild, it is a torso, but so grand withal, that one hardly regrets the loss of these integral elements of the old saga. As it is a working over of originally separate lays, it is not entirely homogeneous, and contains not a few contradictions. In spite of these faults, however, which a close study reveals, it is nevertheless the grandest product of Middle High German epic poetry, and deservedly the most popular poem of older German literature. It lacks, to be sure, the grace of diction found in Gottfried von Strassburg's "Tristan und Isolde", the detailed and often magnificent descriptions of armor and dress to be met with in the epics of Hartman von Ouwe; it is wanting in the lofty philosophy of Wolfram von Eschenbach's "Parzival", and does not, as this latter, lead the reader into the realms of religious doubts and struggles. It is imposing through its very simplicity, through the grandeur of the story, which it does not seek to adorn and decorate. It nowhere pauses to analyze motives nor to give us a picture of inner conflict as modern authors are fond of doing. Its characters are impulsive and prompt in action, and when they have once acted, waste no time in useless regret or remorse.
As far as the "Nibelungenlied" has forgotten much of the young Siegfried's history and knows nothing about his love for Brunhild, it’s an incomplete work, but so grand that one hardly misses these essential parts of the old saga. Since it’s a compilation of originally separate stories, it isn’t entirely uniform and holds quite a few contradictions. Despite these flaws, which a detailed examination reveals, it remains the greatest product of Middle High German epic poetry and rightly the most popular poem in older German literature. It does lack the lyrical elegance found in Gottfried von Strassburg’s "Tristan und Isolde," the intricate and often stunning descriptions of armor and clothing present in Hartman von Ouwe's epics; it’s missing the profound philosophy of Wolfram von Eschenbach’s "Parzival," and, unlike that work, it doesn’t take the reader into realms of religious doubts and struggles. It impresses through its very simplicity, through the grandeur of the story, which it doesn’t try to embellish. It never slows down to analyze motives or offer an insight into inner conflicts like modern authors often do. Its characters are spontaneous and quick to act, and once they’ve made a choice, they don’t waste time on pointless regret or remorse.
It resembles the older "Spielmannsdichtung", or minstrel poetry, in the terseness and vigor of its language and in the lack of poetic imagery, but it is free from the coarseness and vulgar and grotesque humor of the latter. It approaches the courtly epic in its introduction of the pomp of courtly ceremonial, but this veneer of chivalry is very thin, and beneath the outward polish of form the heart beats as passionately and wildly as in the days of Herman, the Cheruscan chief. There are perhaps greater poems in literature than the "Nibelungenlied", but few so majestic in conception, so sublime in their tragedy, so simple in their execution, and so national in their character, as this great popular epic of German literature.
It resembles the older "Spielmannsdichtung," or minstrel poetry, in the simplicity and energy of its language and in its absence of poetic imagery, but it avoids the crudeness and vulgar, grotesque humor of the latter. It touches on the courtly epic with its portrayal of the grandeur of courtly ceremonies, but this surface layer of chivalry is very thin, and beneath the polished exterior, the heart beats as passionately and wildly as it did in the days of Herman, the Cheruscan chief. There may be greater poems in literature than the "Nibelungenlied," but few are as majestic in their concept, as sublime in their tragedy, as straightforward in their execution, and as deeply rooted in national character as this great popular epic of German literature.
ENDNOTES: (1) A is a parchment MS. of the second half of the thirteenth century, now found in Munich. It forms the basis of Lachmann's edition. It is a parchment MS. of the middle of the thirteenth century, belonging to the monastery of St. Gall. It has been edited by Bartsch, "Deutsche Klassiker des Mittelalters", vol. 3, and by Piper, "Deutsche National- Literatur", vol. 6. C is a parchment MS., of the thirteenth century, now in the ducal library of Donauesehingen. It is the best written of all the MSS., and has been edited by Zarncke. (2) The "Thidreksaga" differs from the other Norse versions in having "Sigfrod", as he is called here, brought up in ignorance of his parents, a trait which was probably borrowed from the widespread "Genoveva" story, although thought by some to have been an original feature of our legend. (3) The "Thidreksaga", which has forgotten the enmity of the brothers, and calls Sigurd's tutor "Mimr", tells the episode in somewhat different fashion. The brothers plan to kill Sigurd, and the latter is attacked by the dragon, while burning charcoal in the forest. After killing the monster with a firebrand, Sigurd bathes himself in the blood and thus become covered with a horny skin, which renders him invulnerable, save in one place between the shoulder blades, which he could not reach. This bathing in the blood is also related in the Seyfrid ballad and in the "Nibelungenlied", with the difference, that the vulnerable spot is caused by a linden leaf falling upon him. (4) The fact that all but one of these names alliterate, shows that the Norse version is here more original. Gunnar is the same as Gunther (Gundaharius), Hogni as Hagen; Gutthorm (Godomar) appears in the German version as Gernot. In this latter the father is called Dancrat, the mother Uote, and the name Grimhild is transferred from the mother to the daughter. (5) In the prose "Edda", in the water which drips from Gudrun's hair.
ENDNOTES: (1) A is a parchment manuscript from the second half of the thirteenth century, currently located in Munich. It serves as the foundation for Lachmann's edition. It is also a parchment manuscript from the mid-thirteenth century, belonging to the monastery of St. Gall. It has been edited by Bartsch in "Deutsche Klassiker des Mittelalters", vol. 3, and by Piper in "Deutsche National-Literatur", vol. 6. C is a thirteenth-century parchment manuscript now in the ducal library of Donaueschingen. It is the best-written of all the manuscripts and has been edited by Zarncke. (2) The "Thidreksaga" differs from other Norse versions by presenting "Sigfrod," as he is referred to here, raised without knowledge of his parents, a characteristic that was likely borrowed from the widely known "Genoveva" story, though some believe it to be an original aspect of our legend. (3) The "Thidreksaga," which overlooks the rivalry between the brothers and refers to Sigurd's mentor as "Mimr," recounts the episode in a somewhat different way. The brothers scheme to kill Sigurd, who is attacked by the dragon while he is burning charcoal in the forest. After slaying the monster with a firebrand, Sigurd bathes in its blood, which leaves him covered in a tough skin that makes him invulnerable, except for one spot between his shoulder blades that he cannot reach. This blood bathing is also mentioned in the Seyfrid ballad and in the "Nibelungenlied," with the distinction that in those tales, the vulnerable spot results from a linden leaf falling on him. (4) The fact that all but one of these names start with the same sound indicates that the Norse version is more original here. Gunnar is the same as Gunther (Gundaharius), Hogni as Hagen; Gutthorm (Godomar) appears as Gernot in the German version. In this latter version, the father is named Dancrat, the mother Uote, and the name Grimhild shifts from the mother to the daughter. (5) In the prose "Edda," in the water that drips from Gudrun's hair.
THE NIBELUNGENLIED (1)
ADVENTURE I (2)
Full many a wonder is told us in stories old, of heroes worthy of praise, of hardships dire, of joy and feasting, of the fighting of bold warriors, of weeping and of wailing; now ye may hear wonders told.
Full of wonder are the stories from the past, about heroes deserving of praise, about tough times, joy, and celebrations, about the battles of brave warriors, about crying and mourning; now you can hear amazing tales.
In Burgundy there grew so noble a maid that in all the lands none fairer might there be. Kriemhild (3) was she called; a comely woman she became, for whose sake many a knight must needs lose his life. Well worth the loving was this winsome maid. Bold knights strove for her, none bare her hate. Her peerless body was beautiful beyond degree; the courtly virtues of this maid of noble birth would have adorned many another woman too.
In Burgundy, there lived a noble young woman who was the fairest in all the land. She was called Kriemhild; she grew into a lovely woman for whom many knights would risk their lives. This charming maiden was truly deserving of love. Brave knights competed for her affection, and no one could dislike her. Her unmatched beauty was extraordinary, and the noble qualities of this woman would have enhanced any other woman as well.
Three kings, noble and puissant, did nurture her, Gunther (4) and Gernot, (5) warriors worthy of praise, and Giselher, (6) the youth, a chosen knight. This lady was their sister, the princes had her in their care. The lordings were free in giving, of race high-born, passing bold of strength were they, these chosen knights. Their realm hight Burgundy. Great marvels they wrought hereafter in Etzel's (7) land. At Worms (8) upon the Rhine they dwelt with all their power. Proud knights from out their lands served them with honor, until their end was come. Thereafter they died grievously, through the hate of two noble dames.
Three kings, noble and powerful, took care of her: Gunther (4) and Gernot (5), warriors worthy of praise, and Giselher (6), the young, chosen knight. This lady was their sister, and the princes looked after her. The lords were generous, of noble lineage, and exceptionally strong—these select knights. Their realm was called Burgundy. They accomplished great things later in Etzel's (7) land. In Worms (8) on the Rhine, they lived with all their might. Proud knights from their lands served them with honor, until their end came. Afterward, they died tragically, due to the animosity of two noble women.
Their mother, a mighty queen, was called the Lady Uta, (9) their father, Dankrat, (10) who left them the heritage after his life was over; a mighty man of valor that he was, who won thereto in youth worship full great. These kings, as I have said, were of high prowess. To them owed allegiance the best of warriors, of whom tales were ever told, strong and brave, fearless in the sharp strife. Hagen (11) there was of Troneg, thereto his brother Dankwart, (12) the doughty; Ortwin of Metz (13); Gere (14) and Eckewart, (15) the margraves twain; Folker of Alzei, (16) endued with fullness of strength. Rumolt (17) was master of the kitchen, a chosen knight; the lords Sindolt and Hunolt, liegemen of these three kings, had rule of the court and of its honors. Thereto had they many a warrior whose name I cannot tell. Dankwart was marshal; his nephew, Ortwin, seneschal unto the king; Sindolt was cupbearer, a chosen knight; Hunolt served as chamberlain; well they wot how to fill these lofty stations. Of the forces of the court and its far-reaching might, of the high worship (18) and of the chivalry these lords did ply with joy throughout their life, of this forsooth none might relate to you the end.
Their mother, a powerful queen, was named Lady Uta, (9) and their father, Dankrat, (10) left them his legacy after he passed away; a man of great courage who earned significant respect in his youth. As I mentioned, these kings were highly skilled. The best warriors owed them loyalty, and stories were always shared about them—strong and brave, fearless in battle. There was Hagen (11) from Troneg, along with his brother Dankwart, (12) the valiant; Ortwin of Metz (13); Gere (14) and Eckewart, (15) the two margraves; and Folker of Alzei, (16) endowed with immense strength. Rumolt (17) was the head of the kitchen, a selected knight; the lords Sindolt and Hunolt, vassals of these three kings, managed the court and its honors. They also had many warriors whose names I can't mention. Dankwart served as the marshal; his nephew, Ortwin, was the king’s steward; Sindolt was the cupbearer, a noble knight; Hunolt acted as the chamberlain; they knew well how to handle these high positions. Of the court's forces and its far-reaching power, of the high respect (18) and the chivalry these lords enjoyed throughout their lives, truly, no one could tell you how it all ended.
In the midst of these high honors Kriemhild dreamed a dream, of how she trained a falcon, strong, fair, and wild, which, before her very eyes, two eagles rent to pieces. No greater sorrow might chance to her in all this world. This dream then she told to Uta her mother, who could not unfold it to the dutiful maid in better wise than this: "The falcon which thou trainest, that is a noble man, but thou must needs lose him soon, unless so be that God preserve him."
In the midst of these great honors, Kriemhild had a dream about training a strong, beautiful, and wild falcon, which, right before her eyes, was torn apart by two eagles. There could be no greater sorrow for her in the whole world. She then shared this dream with her mother Uta, who couldn’t explain it to her daughter in any better way than this: "The falcon you’re training represents a noble man, but you will soon lose him unless God protects him."
"Why speakest thou to me of men, dear brother mine? I would fain ever be without a warrior's love. So fair will I remain until my death, that I shall never gain woe from love of man."
"Why are you talking to me about men, my dear brother? I would prefer to always be without a warrior's love. I'll stay so beautiful until I die that I will never suffer from the love of a man."
"Now forswear this not too roundly," spake the mother in reply. "If ever thou shalt wax glad of heart in this world, that will chance through the love of man. Passing fair wilt thou become, if God grant thee a right worthy knight."
"Don't reject this too quickly," the mother replied. "If you ever find true joy in this world, it's because of the love of a man. You'll become incredibly beautiful if God blesses you with a truly deserving knight."
"I pray you leave this speech," spake she, "my lady. Full oft hath it been seen in many a wife, how joy may at last end in sorrow. I shall avoid them both, then can it ne'er go ill with me."
"I urge you to stop this talk," she said, "my lady. It's often been seen in many wives that happiness can eventually lead to sadness. I will steer clear of both, then it can never go wrong for me."
Thus in her heart Kriemhild forsware all love. Many a happy day thereafter the maiden lived without that she wist any whom she would care to love. In after days she became with worship a valiant here's bride. He was the selfsame falcon which she beheld in her dream that her mother unfolded to her. How sorely did she avenge this upon her nearest kin, who slew him after! Through his dying alone there fell full many a mother's son.
Thus in her heart, Kriemhild gave up all love. For many happy days after that, the young woman lived without caring for anyone she would want to love. In later days, she became the devoted bride of a brave warrior. He was the same falcon she saw in her dream that her mother revealed to her. How fiercely did she take revenge on her closest relatives, who killed him afterward! Because of his death, many a mother's son lost his life.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Nibelungenlied", the lay of the Nibelungs. The ordinary etymology of this name is 'children of the mist' ("Nebelkinder", O.N. "Niflungar"), and it is thought to have belonged originally to the dwarfs. Piper, I, 50, interprets it as 'the sons of Nibul'; Boer, II, 198, considers "Hniflungar" to be the correct Norse form and interprets it as 'the descendants of Hnaef' (O.E. "Hnaef", O.H.G. "Hnabi"), whose death is related in the "Finnsaga". (2) "Adventure" (M.H.G. "aventiure", from O.F. "aventure", Lat. "adventura"). The word meant originally a happening, especially some great event, then the report of such an event. Here it is used in the sense of the different cantos or "fitts" of the poem, as in the "Gudrun" and other M.H.G. epics. Among the courtly poets it also frequently denotes the source, or is the personification of the muse of poetry. (3) "Kriemhild" is the Upper German form of the Frankish "Grimhild". In the MSS., the name generally appears with a further shifting as "Chriemhilt", as if the initial consonant were Germanic "k". On the various forms of the name, which have never yet been satisfactorily explained, see Mullenhoff, ZsfdA. xii, 299, 413; xv, 313; and Bohnenberger, PB. Beit. xxiv, 221-231. (4) "Gunther" is the historical "Gundahari", king of the Burgundians in the fifth century. (5) "Gernot" was probably introduced by some minstrel in place of the historical "Godomar", who appears in the Norse version as "Gutthormr", though the names are not etymologically the same, as "Godomar" would be "Guthmarr" in Old Norse. (6) "Giselher" is the historical "Gislaharius". Although mentioned by the "Lex Burgundionum" as one of the Burgundian kings, he does not appear in the early Norse version, or in other poems dealing with these persons, such as the "Waltharius", the "Rabenschlacht", the "Rosengarten", etc., and was probably introduced at a late date into the saga. Originally no role was ascribed to him, and not even his death is told. He probably came from some independent source. (7) "Etzel" is the German form for the historical "Attila" (Norse "Atli"). A discussion of his connection with the saga will be found in the introduction. (8) "Worms" is the ancient "Borbetomagus", which in the first century B.C. was the chief city of the German tribe of the "Vangioni". In the fifth century it was the capital of the Burgundian kingdom, but was destroyed by the Huns. The Merovingians rebuilt it, and in the seventh century it became a bishopric where Charlemagne at times held his court. It was later noted as the meeting-place of many imperial diets. It remained a free city till 1801. In the "Thidreksaga" the name is corrupted into "Wernize". (9) "Uta" (M.H.G. "Uote"). The name means ancestress, and is frequently used for the mother of heroes. The modern German form is "Ute", but in order to insure its being pronounced with two syllables, the form "Uta" was chosen. (10) "Dankrat" (M.H.G. "Dancrat") appears as the father only in the "Nibelungenlied" and poems dependent on it, e.g., the "Klage" and "Biterolf", elsewhere as "Gibiche" (Norse "Giuki"). (11) "Hagen of Troneg". Troneg is probably a corruption of the name of the Latin colony, "colonia Trajana", on the Lower Rhine, which as early as the fifth century was written as "Troja", giving rise to the legend that the Franks were descended from the ancient Trojans. "Troja" was then further corrupted to "Tronje" and "Tronege". Hagen was therefore originally a Frank and had no connection with the Burgundian kings, as the lack of alliteration also goes to show. Boer thinks that not Siegfried but Hagen originally lived at Xanten (see note 3 to Adventure II), as this was often called Troja Francorum. When the Hagen story was connected with the Burgundians and Hagen became either their brother or their vassal, his home was transferred to Worms and Siegfried was located at Xanten, as he had no especial localization. Thus Siegfried is never called Siegfried of Troneg, as is Hagen. Other attempts to explain Troneg will be found in Piper, I, 48. (12) "Dankwart" is not an historical character nor one that belonged to the early form of the legend. He may have come from another saga, where he played the principal role as Droege (ZsfdA. 48, 499) thinks. Boer considers him to be Hagen's double, invented to play a part that would naturally fall to Hagen's share, were he not otherwise engaged at the moment. In our poem he is called "Dancwart der snelle", a word that has proved a stumbling-block to translators, because in modern German it means 'speedy', 'swift'. Its original meaning was, however, 'brave', 'warlike', although the later meaning is already found in M.H.G. In all such doubtful cases the older meaning has been preferred, unless the context forbids, and the word 'doughty' has been chosen to translate it. (13) "Ortwin of Metz" appears also in the "Eckenlied", "Waltharius", and in "Biterolf". He is most likely a late introduction (but see Piper, I, 44). Rieger thinks that he belonged to a wealthy family "De Metis". Though the "i" is long in the original, and Simrock uses the form "Ortewein" in his translation, the spelling with short "i" has been chosen, as the lack of accent tends to shorten the vowel in such names. (14) "Gere" is likewise a late introduction. He is perhaps the historical Margrave Gere (965) of East Saxony, whom Otto the Great appointed as a leader against the Slavs. See O. von Heinemann, "Markgraf Gero", Braunschweig, 1860, and Piper, L 43. (15) "Eckewart" is also a late accession. He is perhaps the historical margrave of Meissen (1002), the first of the name. He, too, won fame in battle against the Slavs. (16) "Folker of Alzei" (M.H.G. "Volker von Alzeije"), the knightly minstrel, is hardly an historical personage, in spite of the fact that Alzey is a well-known town in Rhine Hesse on the Selz, eighteen miles southwest of Mainz. The town has, to be sure, a violin in its coat of arms, as also the noble family of the same name. It is most likely, however, that this fact caused Folker to be connected with Alzei. In the "Thidreksaga" Folker did not play the role of minstrel, and it is probable that some minstrel reviser of our poem developed the character and made it the personification of himself. (17) "Rumolt", "Sindolt", and "Hunolt" have no historical basis and merely help to swell the retinue of the Burgundians. (18) "Worship". This word has been frequently used here in its older meaning of 'worth', 'reverence', 'respect', to translate the M.H.G. "eren", 'honors'.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Nibelungenlied", the tale of the Nibelungs. The common etymology of this name is 'children of the mist' ("Nebelkinder", O.N. "Niflungar"), and it's believed to have originally referred to the dwarfs. Piper, I, 50, interprets it as 'the sons of Nibul'; Boer, II, 198, considers "Hniflungar" to be the correct Norse form and interprets it as 'the descendants of Hnaef' (O.E. "Hnaef", O.H.G. "Hnabi"), whose death is recounted in the "Finnsaga". (2) "Adventure" (M.H.G. "aventiure", from O.F. "aventure", Lat. "adventura"). The word originally meant an occurrence, especially a significant event, then the report of such an event. Here it is used to refer to the different cantos or "fitts" of the poem, as seen in the "Gudrun" and other M.H.G. epics. Among courtly poets, it frequently denotes the source or is the personification of the muse of poetry. (3) "Kriemhild" is the Upper German version of the Frankish "Grimhild". In the manuscripts, the name often appears with a variation as "Chriemhilt", as if the initial consonant were the Germanic "k". For various forms of the name, which have not yet been satisfactorily explained, see Mullenhoff, ZsfdA. xii, 299, 413; xv, 313; and Bohnenberger, PB. Beit. xxiv, 221-231. (4) "Gunther" is the historical "Gundahari", king of the Burgundians in the fifth century. (5) "Gernot" was likely introduced by a minstrel in place of the historical "Godomar", who appears in the Norse version as "Gutthormr", although the names are not etymologically the same, as "Godomar" would be "Guthmarr" in Old Norse. (6) "Giselher" is the historical "Gislaharius". Although mentioned by the "Lex Burgundionum" as one of the Burgundian kings, he does not appear in the early Norse version or in other poems about these characters, such as "Waltharius", "Rabenschlacht", "Rosengarten", etc., and was likely added at a later date into the saga. Originally, no role was attributed to him, and not even his death is mentioned. He likely came from some independent source. (7) "Etzel" is the German form for the historical "Attila" (Norse "Atli"). A discussion of his connection with the saga can be found in the introduction. (8) "Worms" is the ancient "Borbetomagus", which in the first century B.C. was the main city of the German tribe of the "Vangioni". In the fifth century, it was the capital of the Burgundian kingdom, but was destroyed by the Huns. The Merovingians rebuilt it, and in the seventh century it became a bishopric where Charlemagne often held his court. It was later known as the meeting place for many imperial diets. It remained a free city until 1801. In the "Thidreksaga", the name is altered to "Wernize". (9) "Uta" (M.H.G. "Uote"). The name means ancestress and is often used for the mother of heroes. The modern German form is "Ute", but to ensure it is pronounced with two syllables, the form "Uta" was chosen. (10) "Dankrat" (M.H.G. "Dancrat") appears as the father only in the "Nibelungenlied" and poems based on it, e.g., the "Klage" and "Biterolf", elsewhere as "Gibiche" (Norse "Giuki"). (11) "Hagen of Troneg". Troneg is likely a distortion of the name of the Latin colony, "colonia Trajana", on the Lower Rhine, which as early as the fifth century was written as "Troja", giving rise to the legend that the Franks were descended from the ancient Trojans. "Troja" was then further corrupted to "Tronje" and "Tronege". Hagen was originally a Frank and had no connection with the Burgundian kings, as indicated by the absence of alliteration. Boer believes that not Siegfried but Hagen originally lived at Xanten (see note 3 to Adventure II), as this place was often called Troja Francorum. When the Hagen story was connected with the Burgundians, and Hagen became either their brother or their vassal, his home was shifted to Worms and Siegfried was located at Xanten, as he had no specific location. Thus Siegfried is never referred to as Siegfried of Troneg, as Hagen is. Other explanations of Troneg can be found in Piper, I, 48. (12) "Dankwart" is not a historical character nor one from the early version of the legend. He may have come from another saga, where he played a leading role, as Droege (ZsfdA. 48, 499) thinks. Boer considers him to be Hagen's double, created to perform a role that would normally belong to Hagen if he weren't otherwise occupied at the moment. In our poem, he is called "Dancwart der snelle", a term that has posed a challenge to translators, because in modern German it means 'speedy', 'swift'. Its original meaning was, however, 'brave', 'warlike', although the latter meaning is already found in M.H.G. In all such uncertain cases, the older meaning has been preferred unless the context suggests otherwise, and the word 'doughty' has been selected for translation. (13) "Ortwin of Metz" also appears in the "Eckenlied", "Waltharius", and in "Biterolf". He is likely a later addition (but see Piper, I, 44). Rieger suggests he belonged to a wealthy family "De Metis". Though the "i" is long in the original, and Simrock uses the form "Ortewein" in his translation, the spelling with a short "i" has been chosen, as the lack of accent tends to shorten the vowel in such names. (14) "Gere" is also a late addition. He may be the historical Margrave Gere (965) of East Saxony, whom Otto the Great appointed as a leader against the Slavs. See O. von Heinemann, "Markgraf Gero", Braunschweig, 1860, and Piper, L 43. (15) "Eckewart" is another late addition. He may be the historical margrave of Meissen (1002), the first of the name. He also gained renown in battle against the Slavs. (16) "Folker of Alzei" (M.H.G. "Volker von Alzeije"), the knightly minstrel, is probably not a historical figure, despite the fact that Alzey is a well-known town in Rhine Hesse on the Selz, eighteen miles southwest of Mainz. The town indeed features a violin in its coat of arms, as does the noble family of the same name. However, it is most likely that this fact caused Folker to be associated with Alzei. In the "Thidreksaga", Folker did not play the role of a minstrel, and it is probable that some minstrel reviser of our poem crafted the character and made it a personification of himself. (17) "Rumolt", "Sindolt", and "Hunolt" have no historical basis and merely serve to expand the retinue of the Burgundians. (18) "Worship". This word has often been used here in its older meaning of 'worth', 'reverence', 'respect', to translate the M.H.G. "eren", 'honors'.
ADVENTURE II. Of Siegfried.
In the Netherlands there grew the child of a noble king (his father had for name Siegmund, (1) his mother Siegelind), (2) in a mighty castle, known far and wide, in the lowlands of the Rhine: Xanten, (3) men called it. Of this hero I sing, how fair he grew. Free he was of every blemish. Strong and famous he later became, this valiant man. Ho! What great worship he won in this world! Siegfried hight this good and doughty knight. Full many kingdoms did he put to the test through his warlike mood. Through his strength of body he rode into many lands. Ho! What bold warriors he after found in the Burgundian land! Mickle wonders might one tell of Siegfried in his prime, in youthful days; what honors he received and how fair of body he. The most stately women held him in their love; with the zeal which was his due men trained him. But of himself what virtues he attained! Truly his father's lands were honored, that he was found in all things of such right lordly mind. Now was he become of the age that he might ride to court. Gladly the people saw him, many a maid wished that his desire might ever bear him hither. Enow gazed on him with favor; of this the prince was well aware. Full seldom was the youth allowed to ride without a guard of knights. Siegmund and Siegelind bade deck him out in brave attire. The older knights who were acquaint with courtly custom, had him in their care. Well therefore might he win both folk and land.
In the Netherlands, the child of a noble king was born (his father's name was Siegmund, (1) and his mother was Siegelind), (2) in a grand castle, known far and wide, in the lowlands of the Rhine: Xanten, (3) as it was called. I sing of this hero and how handsome he grew. He was free from any flaws. Strong and famous he later became, this brave man. Wow! What great honor he earned in this world! His name was Siegfried, this noble and courageous knight. He tested many kingdoms with his warrior spirit. With his physical strength, he traveled to many lands. Wow! What bold warriors he encountered in the Burgundian land! Many wonders could be told of Siegfried in his youth, about the honors he received and how handsome he was. The most elegant women loved him; the men trained him with the enthusiasm he deserved. And what virtues he gained from himself! Truly, his father’s lands were honored because he carried himself with such noble character in everything. Now he had reached the age when he could ride to court. The people welcomed him joyfully, and many maidens wished that his heart would always lead him back. Many looked upon him favorably; the prince was well aware of this. The youth was rarely allowed to ride without a guard of knights. Siegmund and Siegelind instructed to dress him in fine clothing. The older knights, who were familiar with courtly manners, took care of him. Thus, he could surely win both the people and the land.
Now he was of the strength that he bare weapons well. Whatever he needed thereto, of this he had enow. With purpose he began to woo fair ladies; these bold Siegfried courted well in proper wise. Then bade Siegmund have cried to all his men, that he would hold a feasting with his loving kindred. The tidings thereof men brought into the lands of other kings. To the strangers and the home-folk he gave steeds and armor. Wheresoever any was found who, because of his birth, should become a knight, these noble youths were summoned to the land for the feasting. Here with the youthful prince they gained the knightly sword. Wonders might one tell of this great feast; Siegmund and Siegelind wist well how to gain great worship with their gifts, of which their hands dealt out great store. Wherefore one beheld many strangers riding to their realm. Four hundred sword-thanes (4) were to put on knightly garb with Siegfried. Many a fair maid was aught but idle with the work, for he was beloved of them all. Many precious stones the ladies inlaid on the gold, which together with the edging they would work upon the dress of the proud young warriors, for this must needs be done.
Now he was strong enough to handle weapons well. He had everything he needed for that. With the intention of charming beautiful ladies, bold Siegfried courted them properly. Then Siegmund ordered that all his men be called together for a feast with his beloved family. News of this was spread to the lands of other kings. To both strangers and locals, he gave horses and armor. Wherever a young man was found who could become a knight because of his noble birth, these young nobles were invited to the feast. Here, with the young prince, they earned their knightly swords. Many wonders could be told about this grand feast; Siegmund and Siegelind knew how to earn great respect with their generous gifts, which they shared abundantly. As a result, many strangers came riding to their kingdom. Four hundred warriors were set to don knightly attire with Siegfried. Many a fair maiden was busy with preparations because he was loved by all of them. The ladies adorned gold with precious stones, which they would stitch into the outfits of the proud young warriors, as this had to be done.
The host bade make benches for the many valiant men, for the midsummer festival, (5) at which Siegfried should gain the name of knight. Then full many a noble knight and many a high-born squire did hie them to the minster. Right were the elders in that they served the young, as had been done to them afore. Pastimes they had and hope of much good cheer. To the honor of God a mass was sung; then there rose from the people full great a press, as the youths were made knights in courtly wise, with such great honors as might not ever lightly be again. Then they ran to where they found saddled many a steed. In Siegmund's court the hurtling (6) waxed so fierce that both palace (7) and hall were heard to ring; the high-mettled warriors clashed with mighty sound. From young and old one heard many a shock, so that the splintering of the shafts reechoed to the clouds. Truncheons (8) were seen flying out before the palace from the hand of many a knight. This was done with zeal. At length the host bade cease the tourney and the steeds were led away. Upon the turf one saw all to-shivered (9) many a mighty buckler and great store of precious stones from the bright spangles (10) of the shields. Through the hurtling this did hap.
The host asked for benches to be made for the many brave men for the midsummer festival, where Siegfried would earn the title of knight. Then, many noble knights and high-born squires hurried to the minster. The elders were right to serve the young, just as they had been served in the past. They engaged in festivities and looked forward to good times. A mass was sung in honor of God; then a great crowd gathered as the young men were knighted in a formal ceremony, with honors that would never be repeated lightly. They rushed to find many saddled horses. In Siegmund's court, the excitement grew so intense that the palace and hall echoed with sound; the high-spirited warriors clashed mightily. From both the young and old came many impacts, so the splintering of the lances resonated up to the clouds. Clubs were seen flying out in front of the palace from the hands of many knights. This was done with enthusiasm. Eventually, the host ordered the tournament to stop, and the horses were led away. On the grass, many shattered shields and a great number of precious stones from the bright adornments of the shields could be seen, all due to the fierce encounters.
Then the guests of the host betook them to where men bade them sit. With good cheer they refreshed them and with the very best of wine, of which one bare frill plenty. To the strangers and the home-folk was shown worship enow. Though much pastime they had throughout the day, many of the strolling folk forsware all rest. They served for the largess, which men found there richly, whereby Siegmund's whole land was decked with praise. Then bade the king enfeoff Siegfried, the youth, with land and castles, as he himself had done. Much his hand bestowed upon the sword-companions. The journey liked them well, that to this land they were come. The feasting lasted until the seventh day. Siegelind, the noble queen, for the love of her son, dealt out ruddy gold in time-honored wise. Full well she wot how to make him beloved of the folk. Scarce could a poor man be found among the strolling mimes. Steeds and raiment were scattered by their hand, as if they were to live not one more day. I trow that never did serving folk use such great bounty. With worshipful honors the company departed hence. Of the mighty barons the tale doth tell that they desired the youth unto their lord, but of this the stately knight, Sir Siegfried, listed naught. Forasmuch as both Siegmund and Siegelind were still alive, the dear child of them twain wished not to wear a crown, but fain would he become a lord against all the deeds of force within his lands, whereof the bold and daring knight was sore adread.
Then the host's guests went to where they were invited to sit. They were cheerfully refreshed with the finest wine, of which there was plenty. Both the strangers and the locals were shown great respect. Although everyone had a lot of fun throughout the day, many of the wandering performers avoided resting. They served for the generous rewards, which adorned Siegmund's entire land with praise. Then the king ordered that Siegfried, the young man, be granted lands and castles just as he himself had been. His hand gave generously to the sword-bearers. They enjoyed their journey to this land. The feasting lasted until the seventh day. Siegelind, the noble queen, out of love for her son, distributed red gold in the traditional way. She knew very well how to make him beloved by the people. There was hardly a poor man among the entertainers. Horses and clothing were handed out as if they would not live another day. I believe that serving people have never used such great generosity. With respectful honors, the company departed from there. The tale says the mighty nobles wanted the youth to become their lord, but the proud knight, Sir Siegfried, was not interested. Since both Siegmund and Siegelind were still alive, their beloved child did not wish to wear a crown; instead, he eagerly wanted to become a lord against all the violent acts in his lands, which the brave and daring knight feared greatly.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Siegmund" (M.H.G. "Sigemunt") was originally the hero of an independent saga. See "Volsungasaga", chaps. 3-8. (2) "Siegelind" (M.H.G. "Sigelint") is the correct name of Siegfried's mother, as the alliteration shows. The Early Norse version has "Hjordis", which has come from the "Helgi saga". (3) "Xanten" (M.H.G. "Santen" from the Latin "ad sanctos") is at present a town in the Rhenish Prussian district of Dusseldorf. It does not now lie on the Rhine, but did in the Middle Ages. (4) "Sword-thanes" (M.H.G. "swertdegene") were the young squires who were to be made knights. It was the custom for a youthful prince to receive the accolade with a number of others. (5) "Midsummer festival". The M.H.G. "sunewende" means literally the 'sun's turning', i.e., the summer solstice. This was one of the great Germanic festivals, which the church later turned into St. John's Eve. The bonfires still burnt in Germany on this day are survivals of the old heathen custom. (6) "Hurtling" translates here M.H.G. "buhurt", a word borrowed from the French to denote a knightly sport in which many knights clashed together. Hurtling was used in older English in the same significance. (7) "Palace" (M.H.G. "palas", Lat. "palatium") is a large building standing alone and largely used as a reception hall. (8) "Truncheons" (M.H.G. "trunzûne", O.F. "tronçon)", 'lance splinters', 'fragments of spears'. (9) "To-shivered", 'broken to pieces', in imitation of the older English to-beat, to-break, etc. (10) "Spangles" (M.H.G. "spangen"), strips of metal radiating from the raised centre of the shield and often set, as here, with precious stones.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Siegmund" (M.H.G. "Sigemunt") was originally the hero of an independent story. See "Volsungasaga", chaps. 3-8. (2) "Siegelind" (M.H.G. "Sigelint") is the correct name of Siegfried's mother, as the alliteration shows. The Early Norse version has "Hjordis", which comes from the "Helgi saga". (3) "Xanten" (M.H.G. "Santen" from the Latin "ad sanctos") is currently a town in the Rhenish Prussian district of Dusseldorf. It doesn't lie on the Rhine now, but it did in the Middle Ages. (4) "Sword-thanes" (M.H.G. "swertdegene") were young squires who were about to become knights. It was customary for a young prince to receive the accolade along with several others. (5) "Midsummer festival". The M.H.G. "sunewende" literally means the 'sun's turning', i.e., the summer solstice. This was one of the major Germanic festivals, which the church later transformed into St. John's Eve. The bonfires still lit in Germany on this day are remnants of the old pagan tradition. (6) "Hurtling" translates here M.H.G. "buhurt", a word borrowed from French to refer to a knightly sport where many knights clashed together. Hurtling was used in older English with the same meaning. (7) "Palace" (M.H.G. "palas", Lat. "palatium") is a large building standing alone, primarily used as a reception hall. (8) "Truncheons" (M.H.G. "trunzûne", O.F. "tronçon") means 'lance splinters' or 'fragments of spears'. (9) "To-shivered" means 'broken into pieces', in imitation of older English terms like to-beat, to-break, etc. (10) "Spangles" (M.H.G. "spangen") are strips of metal radiating from the raised center of the shield and often set, as here, with precious stones.
ADVENTURE III. How Siegfried Came to Worms.
It was seldom that sorrow of heart perturbed the prince. He heard tales told of how there lived in Burgundy a comely maid, fashioned wondrous fair, from whom he thereafter gained much of joy, but suffering, too. Her beauty out of measure was known far and wide. So many a here heard of her noble mind, that it alone brought many a guest (1) to Gunther's land. But however many were seen wooing for her love, Kriemhild never confessed within her heart that she listed any for a lover. He was still a stranger to her, whose rule she later owned. Then did the son of Siegelind aspire to lofty love; the wooing of all others was to his but as the wind, for well he wot how to gain a lady fair. In later days the noble Kriemhild became bold Siegfried's bride. Kinsmen and liegemen enow advised him, since he would have hope of constant love, that he woo one who was his peer. At this bold Siegfried spake: "Then will I choose Kriemhild, the fair maid of Burgundy, for her beauty beyond measure. This I know full well, never was emperor so mighty, and he would have a wife, that it would not beseem him to love this noble queen."
It was rare for the prince to feel troubled by sadness. He heard stories about a beautiful maiden in Burgundy, who brought him both joy and pain. Her extraordinary beauty was known far and wide. Many noblemen had heard of her kind heart, which drew many guests to Gunther's land. However, despite many suitors vying for her affection, Kriemhild never admitted to having feelings for anyone. At that time, she didn’t know the man who would eventually be her lord. Then Siegelind's son aimed for lofty love; the other suitors seemed insignificant to him, for he knew how to win the heart of a lovely lady. In time, the noble Kriemhild became the wife of the bold Siegfried. Many relatives and vassals advised him that if he wanted lasting love, he should pursue someone of equal standing. Bold Siegfried replied, "Then I will choose Kriemhild, the beautiful maiden of Burgundy, because of her unmatched beauty. I know very well that no emperor, no matter how powerful, would find it appropriate not to love this noble queen."
Tidings of this reached Siegmund's ear; through the talk of the courtiers he was made ware of the wish of his son. Full loth it was to the king, that his child would woo the glorious maid. Siegelind heard it too, the wife of the noble king. Greatly she feared for her child, for full well she knew Gunther and his men. Therefore they sought to turn the hero from this venture. Up spake then the daring Siegfried: "Dear father mine, I would fain ever be without the love of noble dames, if I may not woo her in whom my heart hath great delight; whatsoever any may aver, it will avail but naught."
News of this reached Siegmund; through the courtiers' conversations, he learned of his son's desire. The king was quite reluctant to have his child pursue the beautiful maiden. Siegelind, the noble king's wife, also heard this. She feared greatly for her child, as she knew Gunther and his men very well. So, they tried to deter the hero from this endeavor. Then the bold Siegfried spoke up: "Dear father, I would rather live without the love of noble ladies than pursue anyone other than the one my heart truly desires; whatever anyone else may say, it won't make a difference."
"And thou wilt not turn back," spake the king, "then am I in sooth glad of thy will and will help thee bring it to pass, as best I may. Yet hath this King Gunther full many a haughty man. If there were none else but Hagen, the doughty knight, he can use such arrogance that I fear me it will repent us sore, if we woo this high-born maid."
"And if you won't turn back," said the king, "then I'm really glad about your choice and I'll do my best to help you make it happen. But this King Gunther has many proud men. Even if it were just Hagen, the fierce knight, he can be so arrogant that I worry it will cause us a lot of regret if we pursue this noble woman."
Then Siegfried made reply: "Wherefore need that hinder us? What I may not obtain from them in friendly wise, that my hand and its strength can gain. I trow that 1 can wrest from him both folk and land."
Then Siegfried replied, "Why should that stop us? Whatever I can't get from them peacefully, my hand and strength can take. I believe I can wrest both people and land from him."
To this Prince Siegmund replied: "Thy speech liketh me not, for if this tale were told upon the Rhine, then durst thou never ride unto that land. Long time have Gunther and Gernot been known to me. By force may none win the maid, of this have I been well assured; but wilt thou ride with warriors unto this land, and we still have aught of friends, they shall be summoned soon."
To this, Prince Siegmund replied: "I don't like what you're saying, because if this story were told on the Rhine, you wouldn't dare go there. I've known Gunther and Gernot for a long time. No one can win the maiden by force; I'm certain of that. But if you want to ride with warriors to that land, and if we still have any friends, they will be called soon."
"It is not to my mind," spake again Siegfried, "that warriors should follow me to the Rhine, as if for battle, that I constrain thereby the noble maid. My single hand can win her well—with eleven (2) comrades I will fare to Gunther's land; thereto shalt thou help me, Father Siegmund." Then to his knights they gave for garments furs both gray and vair. (3)
"It doesn’t seem right to me," Siegfried said again, "that warriors should follow me to the Rhine as if it’s for battle, as if I’m forcing the noble lady. I can win her myself—I'll go to Gunther's land with eleven comrades; you will help me with that, Father Siegmund." Then they gave their knights gray and vair furs to wear.
Now his mother Siegelind also heard the tale. She began to make dole for her loved child, whom she feared to lose through Gunther's men. Sorely the noble queen gan weep. Lord Siegfried hied him straightway to where he saw her; to his mother he spake in gentle wise: "Lady, ye must not weep for me; naught have I to fear from all his fighting men. I pray you, speed me on my journey to the Burgundian land, that I and my warriors may have array such as proud heroes can wear with honor; for this I will say you gramercy i' faith."
Now his mother Siegelind also heard the story. She began to mourn for her beloved child, whom she feared to lose to Gunther's men. The noble queen wept bitterly. Lord Siegfried hurried straight to her when he saw her; to his mother he spoke gently: "Lady, you must not cry for me; I have nothing to fear from all his fighting men. I ask you, please help me on my journey to the Burgundian land, so that my warriors and I can be equipped like proud heroes deserving of honor; for this, I truly thank you."
"Since naught will turn thee," spake then the Lady Siegelind, "so will I speed thee on thy journey, mine only child, with the best of weeds that ever knight did wear, thee and thy comrades. Ye shall have enow."
"Since nothing will change your mind," said Lady Siegelind, "I will send you on your journey, my only child, with the finest gear that any knight has ever worn, you and your friends. You will have more than enough."
Siegfried, the youth, then made low obeisance to the queen. He spake: "None but twelve warriors will I have upon the way. Let raiment be made ready for them, I pray, for I would fain see how it standeth with Kriemhild."
Siegfried, the young man, then bowed slightly to the queen. He said: "I will only take twelve warriors with me. Please prepare their clothing, as I want to see how things are with Kriemhild."
Then sate fair ladies night and day. Few enow of them, I trow, did ease them, till Siegfried's weeds had all been wrought. Nor would he desist from faring forth. His father bade adorn the knightly garb in which his son should ride forth from Siegmund's land. The shining breastplates, too, were put in trim, also the stanch helmets and their shields both fair and broad. Now their journey to the Burgundian land drew near; man and wife began to fear lest they never should come home again. The heroes bade lade their sumpters with weapons and with harness. Their steeds were fair and their trappings red with gold. No need were there to live more proudly than Siegfried and his men. Then he asked for leave to journey to the land of Burgundy; this the king and queen sorrowfully vouchsafed. Lovingly he comforted them twain. "For my sake," spake he, "must ye not weep, nor have fear for me or for my life."
Then beautiful ladies were entertained day and night. I believe only a few of them found any comfort until Siegfried's gear was fully prepared. He would not stop going out, even though his father instructed him to wear the knightly outfit he would take when leaving Siegmund's land. They also polished the shining breastplates, sturdy helmets, and their shields, which were both lovely and broad. As their journey to Burgundy approached, the husband and wife started to worry they might never return home. The heroes instructed to load their pack animals with weapons and armor. Their horses were magnificent, and their gear was adorned with red and gold. There was no need for Siegfried and his men to live more lavishly than they already did. Then he asked for permission to travel to Burgundy; the king and queen sadly agreed. He comforted them both with affection. "For my sake," he said, "you must not cry, nor worry about me or my safety."
The warriors, too, were sad and many a maiden wept; I ween, their hearts did tell them rightly that many of their kinsmen would come to death because of this. Just cause had they for wailing; need enow they had in sooth.
The warriors were also sad, and many maidens cried; I think their hearts told them correctly that many of their relatives would die because of this. They had every reason to mourn; they really needed to.
Upon the seventh morning, forth upon the river sand at Worms the brave warriors pricked. Their armor was of ruddy gold and their trappings fashioned fair. Smoothly trotted the steeds of bold Siegfried's men. Their shields were new; gleaming and broad and fair their helmets, as Siegfried, the bold, rode to court in Gunther's land. Never had such princely attire been seen on heroes; their sword-points hung down to their spurs. Sharp javelins were borne by these chosen knights. Siegfried wielded one full two spans broad, which upon its edges cut most dangerously. In their hands they held gold-colored bridles; their martingales were silken: so they came into the land. Everywhere the folk began to gape amazed and many of Gunther's men fared forth to meet them. High-mettled warriors, both knight and squire, betook them to the lords (as was but right), and received into the land of their lords these guests and took from their hands the black sumpters which bore the shields. The steeds, too, they wished to lead away for easement. How boldly then brave Siegfried spake: "Let stand the mounts of me and of my men. We will soon hence again, of this have I great desire. Whosoever knoweth rightly where I can find the king, Gunther, the mighty, of Burgundian land, let him not keep his peace but tell me."
On the seventh morning, the brave warriors arrived on the riverbank at Worms. Their armor gleamed with a rich gold, and their gear was finely crafted. The horses of Siegfried's men trotted smoothly. Their shields were new; their helmets were broad and shining, as Siegfried, the bold, rode into Gunther's territory. Such princely outfits had never been seen on heroes; their swords hung down to their spurs. These selected knights carried sharp javelins. Siegfried had one that was two spans wide, with dangerously sharp edges. In their hands, they held bridles that were gold-colored, and their martingales were silken as they entered the land. The people everywhere stared in amazement, and many of Gunther's men came out to greet them. Proud warriors, both knights and squires, approached the lords (as was proper) and welcomed these guests into their land, taking the black pack animals that carried the shields from their hands. They also offered to lead away the horses for their comfort. Then, brave Siegfried spoke boldly: "Leave my horse and those of my men standing. We will be leaving soon; I have a strong desire for that. Whoever knows where I can find King Gunther, the mighty ruler of Burgundian land, please don’t hesitate to tell me."
Then up spake one to whom it was rightly known: "Would ye find the king, that can hap full well. In yon broad hall with his heroes did I but see him. Ye must hither hie you; there ye may find with him many a lordly man."
Then one spoke up, someone who knew the truth: "If you want to find the king, that can definitely happen. I just saw him in that big hall with his warriors. You need to hurry over there; you’ll find many noble men with him."
To the king now the word was brought, that full lusty knights were come, who wore white breastplates and princely garb. None knew them in the Burgundian land. Much it wondered the king whence came these lordly warriors in such shining array, with such good shields, both new and broad. Loth was it to Gunther, that none could tell him this. Then Ortwin of Metz (a bold and mighty man was he) made answer to the king: "Since we know them not, ye should send for mine uncle Hagen, and let him see them. To him are known (4) all kingdoms and foreign lands. If so be he knoweth these lords, he will tell us straightway."
To the king, news came that a group of strong knights had arrived, wearing white armor and royal clothing. No one recognized them in the Burgundian territory. The king was quite curious about where these noble warriors, dressed in such dazzling gear and carrying both new and wide shields, had come from. Gunther felt frustrated that no one could provide him with this information. Then Ortwin of Metz (a brave and powerful man) replied to the king: "Since we don't know them, you should send for my uncle Hagen and let him take a look. He knows all the kingdoms and foreign lands. If he recognizes these lords, he will let us know right away."
Then bade the king that Hagen and his men be brought. One saw him with his warriors striding in lordly wise unto the court.
Then the king ordered that Hagen and his men be brought in. One could see him striding into the court with his warriors in a lordly manner.
"What would the king of me?" asked Hagen.
"What would the king mean to me?" asked Hagen.
"There be come to my house strange warriors, whelm here none knoweth. If ye have ever seen them, I pray you, Hagen, tell me now the truth."
"There have come to my house strange warriors, and no one knows why they are here. If you have ever seen them, I ask you, Hagen, tell me the truth now."
"That will I," spake then Hagen. He hied him to a window and over the guests he let his glances roam. Well liked him their trappings and their array, but full strange were they to him in the Burgundian land. He spake: "From wheresoever these warriors be come unto the Rhine, they may well be princes or envoys of kings, for their steeds are fair and their garments passing good. Whencesoever they bear these, forsooth high-mettled warriors be they."
"Sure," said Hagen. He went to a window and looked over the guests. He liked their gear and outfits, but they seemed quite strange to him in Burgundy. He said, "Wherever these warriors have come to the Rhine from, they could very well be princes or envoys of kings, because their horses are beautiful and their clothing is exceptional. Wherever they got this, they are definitely noble warriors."
"I dare well say," so spake Hagen, "though I never have seen Siegfried, yet can I well believe, however this may be, that he is the warrior that strideth yonder in such lordly wise. He bringeth new tidings hither to this land. By this here's hand were slain the bold Nibelungs, Schilbung and Nibelung, (5) sons of a mighty king. Since then he hath wrought great marvels with his huge strength. Once as the hero rode alone without all aid, he found before a mountain, as I have in sooth been told, by Nibelung's hoard full many a daring man. Strangers they were to him, till he gained knowledge of them there.
"I can confidently say," Hagen said, "even though I’ve never seen Siegfried, I truly believe that he’s the warrior who walks over there with such noble grace. He brings new news to this land. With his own hand, he took down the brave Nibelungs, Schilbung and Nibelung, (5) sons of a powerful king. Since then, he has performed great feats with his incredible strength. Once, as the hero rode alone without any help, he came upon a mountain, where I have genuinely been told, he found many daring men by Nibelung's hoard. They were strangers to him until he became acquainted with them there.
"The hoard of Nibelung was borne entire from out a hollow hill. Now hear a wondrous tale, of how the liegemen of Nibelung wished to divide it there. This the hero Siegfried saw and much it gan wonder him. So near was he now come to them, that he beheld the heroes, and the knights espied him, too. One among them spake: 'Here cometh the mighty Siegfried, the hero of Netherland.' Passing strange were the tidings that, he found among the Nibelungs. Schilbung and Nibelung greeted well the knight; with one accord these young and noble lordings bade the stately man divide the hoard. Eagerly they asked it, and the lord in turn gan vow it to them.
"The treasure of Nibelung was taken entirely from a hollow hill. Now listen to a fascinating story about how the men of Nibelung wanted to divide it there. The hero Siegfried saw this, and it amazed him greatly. He had gotten so close to them that he could see the heroes, and the knights noticed him too. One of them spoke up: 'Here comes the mighty Siegfried, the hero of the Netherland.' It was quite surprising news that he found among the Nibelungs. Schilbung and Nibelung welcomed the knight warmly; together, these young and noble lords asked the dignified man to divide the treasure. They eagerly requested it, and the lord promised it to them in return."
"He beheld such store of gems, as we have heard said, that a hundred wains might not bear the lead; still more was there of ruddy gold from the Nibelung land. All this the hand of the daring Siegfried should divide. As a guerdon they gave him the sword of Nibelung, but they were served full ill by the service which the good knight Siegfried should render them. Nor could he end it for them; angry of mood (6) they grew. Twelve bold men of their kith were there, mighty giants these. What might that avail them! Siegfried's hand slew them soon in wrath, and seven hundred warriors from the Nibelung land he vanquished with the good sword Balmung. (7) Because of the great fear that, many a young warrior had of the sword and of the valiant man, they made the land and its castles subject to his hand. Likewise both the mighty kings he slew, but soon he himself was sorely pressed by Alberich. (8) The latter weened to venge straightway his masters, till he then discovered Siegfried's mighty strength; for no match for him was the sturdy dwarf. Like wild lions they ran to the hill, where from Alberich he won the Cloak of Darkness. (9) Thus did Siegfried, the terrible, become master of the hoard; those who had dared the combat, all lay there slain. Soon bade he cart and bear the treasure to the place from whence the men of Nibelung had borne it forth. He made Alberich, the strong, warden of the hoard and bade him swear an oath to serve him as his knave; and fit he was for work of every sort."
"He saw such a treasure of gems, as people have said, that a hundred wagons couldn’t carry the weight; even more was there of red gold from the Nibelung land. All this should be divided by the daring Siegfried. As a reward, they gave him the sword of Nibelung, but they were greatly disappointed by the service that the good knight Siegfried would provide them. Nor could he finish it for them; they grew angry. There were twelve brave men of their kin, mighty giants. What good did that do them! Siegfried’s hand soon killed them in fury, and he defeated seven hundred warriors from the Nibelung land with the good sword Balmung. Because many young warriors were greatly afraid of the sword and the brave man, they made the land and its castles subject to him. He also killed both powerful kings, but soon he himself was in serious trouble from Alberich. The latter thought to take revenge for his masters right away, until he discovered Siegfried's immense strength; for the sturdy dwarf was no match for him. Like wild lions, they ran to the hill, where Siegfried took the Cloak of Darkness from Alberich. Thus did Siegfried, the fearsome, become the master of the hoard; those who had dared to fight all lay slain. Soon he ordered the treasure to be carted back to the place from where the men of Nibelung had taken it. He made the strong Alberich the guardian of the hoard and ordered him to swear an oath to serve him as his servant; and he was fit for all kinds of work."
So spake Hagen of Troneg: "This he hath done. Nevermore did warrior win such mighty strength. I wot yet more of him: it is known to me that the hero slew a dragon and bathed him in the blood, so that his skin became like horn. Therefore no weapons will cut him, as hath full oft been seen. All the better must we greet this lord, that we may not earn the youthful warrior's hate. So bold is he that we should hold him as a friend, for he hath wrought full many a wonder by his strength."
So spoke Hagen of Troneg: "He's done this. No warrior has ever gained such incredible strength. I know even more about him: it's known that the hero killed a dragon and bathed in its blood, making his skin as tough as horn. That's why no weapons can cut him, as we've seen time and again. We should welcome this lord so we don’t earn the young warrior's anger. He's so bold that we should consider him an ally, as he's achieved many great feats through his strength."
Then spake the mighty king: "Thou mayst well have right. Behold how valiantly he with his knights doth stand in lust of battle, the daring man! Let us go down to meet the warrior."
Then the mighty king said, "You may be right. Look how bravely he stands with his knights, eager for battle, that daring man! Let's go down to meet the warrior."
"That ye may do with honor," spake then Hagen; "he is of noble race, son of a mighty king. God wot, methinks, he beareth him in such wise, that it can be no little matter for which he hath ridden hither."
"That you may act with honor," Hagen said then; "he comes from noble blood, the son of a powerful king. I believe he carries himself in such a way that it's clear he has come for something important."
"Now be he welcome to us," spake then the king of the land. "He is both noble and brave, as I have heard full well. This shall stand him in good stead in the Burgundian land." Then went Lord Gunther to where Siegfried stood.
"Now let him be welcome among us," said the king of the land. "He is both noble and brave, as I've heard very well. This will serve him well in the Burgundian land." Then Lord Gunther went to where Siegfried stood.
The host and his warriors received the guest in such wise that full little was there lack of worship. Low bowed the stately man, that they had greeted him so fair. "It wondereth me," spake the king straightway, "whence ye, noble Siegfried, be come unto this land, or what ye seek at Worms upon the Rhine."
The host and his warriors welcomed the guest in a way that showed great respect. The dignified man bowed low, feeling honored by their warm greeting. "I’m curious," the king said immediately, "where you, noble Siegfried, have come from, or what you are seeking in Worms by the Rhine."
Then the stranger made answer to the king: "This will I not conceal from you. Tales were told me in my father's land, that here with you were the boldest warriors that ever king did gain. This I have often heard, and that I might know it of a truth, therefore am I come. Likewise do I hear boasting of your valor, that no bolder king hath ever been seen. This the folk relate much through all these lands. Therefore will I not turn back, till it be known to me. I also am a warrior and was to wear a crown. Fain would I bring it to pass that it may be said of me: Rightly doth he rule both folk and land. Of this shall my head and honor be a pledge. Now be ye so bold, as hath been told me, I reck not be it lief or loth to any man, I will gain from you whatso ye have—land and castles shall be subject to my hand."
Then the stranger responded to the king, "I won't hide this from you. I heard stories in my father's land that you have the bravest warriors that any king has ever gathered. I've heard this often, and to find out if it's true, I have come. I also hear people bragging about your bravery, saying no king has ever been bolder. This is widely talked about across these lands. So, I won't turn back until I know for myself. I am also a warrior and was meant to wear a crown. I would gladly make it so that people can say: He truly rules both his people and his land. My head and honor will stand as proof of this. Now, if you are as bold as I’ve been told, it doesn’t matter to me whether you like it or not, I will take from you whatever you have—land and castles will be under my control."
The king had likewise his men had marvel at the tidings they here heard, that he was willed to take from them their land. The knights waxed wroth, as they heard this word. "How have I earned this," spake Gunther, the knight, "that we should lose by the force of any man that which my father hath rules so long with honor? We should let it ill appear that we, too, are used in knightly ways."
The king and his men were amazed by the news they heard, that he wanted to take their land from them. The knights grew angry when they heard this. "How have I deserved this," said Gunther, the knight, "that we should lose to any man what my father has ruled with honor for so long? It would look bad for us to be treated in such an unknightly manner."
"In no wise will I desist," spake again the valiant man. "Unless it be that through thy strength thy land have peace, I will rule it all. And shouldst thou gain, by thy strength, my ancestral lands, they shall be subject to thy sway. Thy lands, and mine as well, shall lie alike; whether of us twain can triumph over the other, him shall both land and people serve."
"In no way will I back down," the brave man said again. "Unless your strength brings peace to your land, I will take control of it all. If you manage to conquer my ancestral lands with your strength, they will be under your rule. Your lands and mine will be equal; whoever among us wins will have both land and people serve him."
Hagen and Gernot, too, straightway gainsaid this. "We have no wish," spake Gernot, "that we should conquer aught of lands, or that any man lie dead at hero's hands. We have rich lands, which serve us, as is meet, nor hath any a better claim to them than we."
Hagen and Gernot immediately disagreed. "We don’t want," Gernot said, "to conquer any lands or have anyone die at the hands of a hero. We have plenty of rich lands that serve us well, and no one has a better claim to them than we do."
There stood his kinsmen, grim of mood; among them, too, Ortwin of Metz. "It doth irk me much to hear these words of peace," spake he; "the mighty Siegfried hath defied you for no just cause. Had ye and your brothers no meet defense, and even if he led a kingly troop, I trow well so to fight that the daring man have good cause to leave this haughty mien."
There stood his relatives, looking serious; among them was Ortwin of Metz. "It really annoys me to hear these peace talks," he said; "the powerful Siegfried has challenged you without a good reason. If you and your brothers didn't have proper defenses, and even if he led a royal army, I believe I could fight well enough to make that arrogant man reconsider his attitude."
At this the hero of Netherland grew wonderly wroth. He spake: "Thy hand shall not presume against me. I am a mighty king, a king's vassal thou. Twelve of thy ilk durst not match me in strife."
At this, the hero of the Netherlands became incredibly angry. He said, "You won't dare challenge me. I am a powerful king, and you are just a king's subject. Twelve of your kind wouldn't even think of facing me in battle."
Then Ortwin of Metz called loudly for swords. Well was he fit to be Hagen of Troneg's sister's son. It rued the king that he had held his peace so long. Then Gernot, the bold and lusty knight, came in between. He spake to Ortwin: "Now give over thy anger. Lord Siegfried hath done us no such wrong, but that we may still part the strife in courteous wise. Be advised of me and hold him still as friend; far better will this beseem us."
Then Ortwin of Metz called out loudly for swords. He was truly worthy to be Hagen of Troneg's sister's son. The king regretted that he had remained silent for so long. Then Gernot, the brave and spirited knight, stepped in. He spoke to Ortwin: "Now calm your anger. Lord Siegfried hasn't done us any real wrong, so we can still resolve this conflict in a polite manner. Trust me and keep him as a friend; it will serve us much better."
Then spake the doughty Hagen: "It may well grieve us and all thy knights that he ever rode for battle to the Rhine. He should have given it over; my lordings never would have done such ill to him."
Then spoke the brave Hagen: "It may really upset us and all your knights that he ever went into battle at the Rhine. He should have backed down; my lords would never have done such a thing to him."
To this Siegfried, the mighty man, made answer: "Doth this irk you, Sir Hagen, which I spake, then will I let you see that my hands shall have dominion here in the Burgundian land."
To this, Siegfried, the mighty man, replied: "Does this bother you, Sir Hagen, what I said? Then I'll show you that my hands will have power here in the Burgundian land."
"I alone will hinder this," answered Gernot, and he forbade his knights speak aught with haughtiness that might cause rue. Siegfried, too, then bethought him of the noble maid.
"I will be the one to stop this," Gernot replied, and he told his knights not to speak with arrogance that could lead to regret. Siegfried also then thought about the noble lady.
"How might it beseem us to fight with you?" spake Gernot anew. "However really heroes should lie dead because of this, we should have scant honor therefrom and ye but little gain."
"How should we appropriately fight with you?" Gernot said again. "Even if heroes were to die because of this, we would gain very little honor from it, and you would gain even less."
To this Siegfried, the son of Siegmund, made reply: "Why waiteth Hagen, and Ortwin, too, that he hasteth not to fight with his kin, of whom he hath so many here in Burgundy?"
To this, Siegfried, son of Siegmund, responded: "Why are Hagen and Ortwin waiting? Why aren't they rushing to fight against their own people, of whom there are so many here in Burgundy?"
At this all held their peace; such was Gernot's counsel. Then spake Queen Uta's son: "Ye shall be welcome to us with all your war-mates, who are come with you. We shall gladly serve you, I and all my kin."
At this, everyone fell silent; that was Gernot's advice. Then Queen Uta's son said, "You and all your warriors are welcome here. My family and I will gladly serve you."
Then for the guests they bade pour out King Gunther's wine. The master of the land then spake: "All that we have, if ye desire it in honorable wise, shall owe fealty to you; with you shall both life and goods be shared."
Then for the guests, they poured out King Gunther's wine. The master of the land said, "Everything we have, if you want it in a respectful way, will belong to you; together we will share both our lives and possessions."
At this Lord Siegfried grew of somewhat gentler mood. Then they bade that care be taken of the armor of the guests. The best of hostels that men might find were sought for Siegfried's squires; great easement they gave them. Thereafter they gladly saw the guest in Burgundy. Many a day they offered him great worship, a thousand fold more than I can tell you. This his prowess wrought; ye may well believe, full scant a one he saw who was his foe.
At this, Lord Siegfried became more gentle. Then they made sure to take good care of the guests' armor. They searched for the best inns available for Siegfried's attendants; they provided great comfort for them. After that, they were happy to see the guest in Burgundy. For many days, they honored him greatly, far more than I can describe. His strength and skill brought this about; you can be sure that he hardly encountered anyone who was his enemy.
Whenever the lordings and their liegemen did play at knightly games, Siegfried was aye the best, whatever they began. Herein could no one match him, so mighty was his strength, whether they threw the stone or hurled the shaft. When through courtesie the full lusty knights made merry with the ladies, there were they glad to see the hero of Netherland, for upon high love his heart was bent. He was aye ready for whatso they undertook, but in his heart he bare a lovely maid, whom he had never seen. She too, who in secret spake full well of him, cherished him alone. Whenever the pages, squires, and knights would play their games within the court, Kriemhild, the noble queen, watched them from the windows, for no other pastime she needed on such days. Had he known that she gazed on him thus, whom he bare within his heart, then had he had pastime enough, I trow, for well I wot that no greater joy in all this world could chance to him.
Whenever the lords and their vassals played knightly games, Siegfried was always the best, no matter what they started. No one could match him, so great was his strength, whether they threw the stone or shot the arrow. When, out of courtesy, the spirited knights enjoyed themselves with the ladies, they were glad to see the hero of the Netherlands, for his heart was set on high love. He was always ready for whatever they undertook, but in his heart, he carried a beautiful maiden whom he had never seen. She too, who spoke highly of him in secret, cherished him alone. Whenever the pages, squires, and knights played their games in the court, Kriemhild, the noble queen, watched them from the windows, for she needed no other entertainment on such days. If he had known that she was watching him like that, the one he held in his heart, he would have had enough fun, I believe, for I know that no greater joy in all this world could have come to him.
Whenever he stood by the heroes in the court, as men still are wont to do, for pastime's sake, so winsome was the posture of Siegelind's son, that many a lady loved him for very joy of heart. But he bethought him many a day: "How shall that hap, that I with mine own eyes may see the noble maid, whom I do love with all my heart and so have done long time. Sadly must I stand, sith she be still a stranger to me."
Whenever he stood with the heroes in the court, like guys still do for fun, the way Siegelind's son carried himself was so charming that many ladies loved him out of pure joy. But he thought for many days, "How can I make it happen that I can see the noble woman I love with all my heart, and have for a long time? I must stand here sadly since she is still a stranger to me."
Whenever the mighty kings fared forth into their land, the warriors all must needs accompany them at hand, and Siegfried, too. This the lady rued, and he, too, suffered many pangs for love of her. Thus he dwelt with the lordings, of a truth, full a year in Gunther's land, and in all this time he saw not once the lovely maid, from whom in later days there happed to him much joy and eke much woe.
Whenever the powerful kings went out into their land, the warriors had to go with them, and so did Siegfried. The lady regretted this, and he, too, felt a lot of pain because of his love for her. So he lived with the lords, truly, for a whole year in Gunther's land, and during all that time, he didn't see the beautiful maiden even once, from whom later on he experienced both a lot of joy and a lot of sorrow.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Guest" translates here the M.H.G. "gest", a word which may mean either 'guest' or 'stranger,' and it is often difficult, as here, to tell to which meaning the preference should be given. (2) "Eleven" translates the M.H.G. "selbe zwelfte", which means one of twelve. The accounts are, however, contradictory, as a few lines below mention is made of twelve companions of Siegfried. (3) "Vair" (O.F. "vair", Lat. "varius"), 'variegated', like the fur of the squirrel. (4) "Known". It was a mark of the experienced warrior, that he was acquainted with the customs and dress of various countries and with the names and lineage of all important personages. Thus in the "Hildebrandslied" Hildebrand asks Hadubrand to tell him his father's name, and adds: "If thou tellest me the one, I shall know the other." (5) "Schilbung" and "Nibelung", here spoken of as the sons of a mighty king, were originally dwarfs, and, according to some authorities, the original owners of the treasure. Boer, ix, 199, thinks, however, that the name Nibelungs was transferred from Hagen to these dwarfs at a late stage in the formation of the saga. (6) "Angry of mood". The reason of this anger is apparent from the more detailed account in "Biterolf", 7801. The quarrel arose from the fact that, according to ancient law, Siegfried acquired with the sword the rights of the first born, which the brothers, however, refused to accord to him. (7) "Balmung". In the older Norse version and in the "Thidreksaga" Siegfried's sword bore the name of Gram. (8) "Alberich" is a dwarf king who appears in a number of legends, e.g., in the "Ortnit saga" and in "Biterolf". Under the Romance form of his name, "Oberon", he plays an important role in modern literature. (9) "Cloak of Darkness". This translates the M.H.G. "tarnkappe", a word often retained by translators. It is formed from O.H.G. tarni, 'secret' (cf. O.E. "dyrne"), and "kappe" from late Latin "cappa", 'cloak'. It rendered the wearer invisible and gave him the strength of twelve men.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Guest" translates the M.H.G. "gest", a word that can mean either 'guest' or 'stranger,' and it's often unclear, as in this case, which meaning is preferred. (2) "Eleven" translates the M.H.G. "selbe zwelfte", which means one of twelve. However, the accounts are contradictory, as a few lines later mention twelve companions of Siegfried. (3) "Vair" (O.F. "vair", Lat. "varius"), meaning 'variegated', like the fur of a squirrel. (4) "Known". It was a trait of an experienced warrior to be aware of the customs and attire of different countries and to know the names and lineages of all important figures. In the "Hildebrandslied", Hildebrand asks Hadubrand to share his father's name and adds: "If you tell me one, I'll know the other." (5) "Schilbung" and "Nibelung", referred to as the sons of a powerful king, were originally dwarfs, and according to some sources, the original owners of the treasure. However, Boer, ix, 199, believes that the name Nibelungs was transferred from Hagen to these dwarfs later in the saga's development. (6) "Angry of mood". The reason for this anger is clear from the more detailed account in "Biterolf", 7801. The conflict arose from the fact that, according to ancient law, Siegfried gained the rights of the firstborn with the sword, which the brothers, however, refused to grant him. (7) "Balmung". In the older Norse version and in the "Thidreksaga", Siegfried's sword was named Gram. (8) "Alberich" is a dwarf king who appears in several legends, such as the "Ortnit saga" and in "Biterolf". In his Romance form, "Oberon", he plays a significant role in modern literature. (9) "Cloak of Darkness". This translates the M.H.G. "tarnkappe", a term commonly retained by translators. It's derived from O.H.G. tarni, 'secret' (cf. O.E. "dyrne"), and "kappe" from late Latin "cappa", 'cloak'. It made the wearer invisible and gave them the strength of twelve men.
ADVENTURE IV. How He Fought with the Saxons. (1)
Now there came strange tales to Gunther's land, though messengers sent them from afar—tales of unknown warriors, who bare them hate. When they heard this word, in sooth it pleased them not. These warriors will I name to you: there was Liudeger of Saxon land, a great and lordly prince, and then from Denmark Liudegast, the king. For their journey they had gathered many a lordly stranger.
Now, strange stories reached Gunther's land, brought by messengers from far away—stories of unknown warriors who bare them hatred. When they heard this news, it truly displeased them. I will name these warriors for you: there was Liudeger from Saxony, a great and noble prince, and then Liudegast, the king from Denmark. For their journey, they had gathered many noble strangers.
To Gunther's land were come the messengers his foes had sent. Men asked the strangers for their tidings and bade them hie them soon to court unto King Gunther. The king gave them greeting fair; he spake: "Be ye welcome. I have not heard who sent you hither, but let that now be told." So spake the right good king. But they feared full sore King Gunther's warlike mood.
To Gunther's land came the messengers sent by his enemies. People asked the strangers for news and urged them to hurry to the court of King Gunther. The king welcomed them warmly and said, "You are welcome. I haven't heard who sent you here, but please let that be told now." So spoke the good king. But the messengers were very afraid of King Gunther's warlike demeanor.
"Will ye, O King, permit that we tell the tales we bring, then we shall not hold our tongue, but name to you the lordings who have sent us hither: Liudegast and Liudeger; they would march upon this land. Ye have earned their wrath, indeed we heard that both lords bear you mortal hate. They would harry at Worms upon the Rhine and have the aid of many a knight; that may ye know upon our faith. Within twelve weeks the journey must befall. And ye have aught of good friends, who will help guard your castles and your lands, let this soon be seen. Here shall be carved by them many a helm and shield. Or would ye parley with them, let messengers be sent. Then the numerous bands of your mighty foes will not ride so near you, to give you pain of heart, from which full many a lusty knight and a good must die."
"Will you, O King, allow us to share the tales we have? If so, we won’t hold back and will tell you the names of the lords who sent us here: Liudegast and Liudeger; they plan to march on this land. You have certainly earned their anger, as we heard that both lords harbor a deep hatred for you. They intend to attack Worms on the Rhine and have gathered many knights to support them; you can trust us on that. The journey will take place within twelve weeks. If you have any good friends who can help defend your castles and lands, that needs to happen soon. They will be busy crafting many helmets and shields. Or, if you want to negotiate with them, messengers should be sent. That way, your numerous powerful enemies won’t come too close to you, causing you distress, which could lead to the death of many brave knights."
"Now bide a time," spake the good king, "till I bethink me better; then ye shall know my mind. Have I aught of trusty men, I will not withhold from them these startling tales, but will make complaint thereof unto my friends."
"Now wait a moment," said the good king, "until I figure things out; then you'll know what I think. If I have any trustworthy men, I won't keep these shocking stories from them, but I will share my concerns with my friends."
To Gunther, the mighty king, it was loth enow, but in his heart he bare the speech in secret wise. He bade Hagen be fetched and others of his men, and sent eftsoon to court for Gernot. Then came the very best of men that could be found. The king spake: "Men would seek us here in this our land with mighty armies, now make ye wail for that."
To Gunther, the powerful king, it was quite displeasing, but in his heart he kept the conversation to himself. He ordered Hagen and some of his men to come and soon sent for Gernot to join them. Then the finest men available gathered. The king said: "People will come to our land with huge armies, so prepare to lament that."
To this Gernot, a brave and lusty knight, made answer: "That will we fend indeed with swords. Only the fey (2) will fall. So let them die; for their sake I will not forget my honor. Let these foes of ours be welcome to us."
To this, Gernot, a brave and spirited knight, replied: "We will definitely defend ourselves with swords. Only the doomed will fall. So let them die; I won't sacrifice my honor for their sake. Let these enemies of ours feel welcome."
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "This thinketh me not good. Liudegast and Liudeger bear great arrogance; nor can we summon all our men in such short time. Why tell ye not Siegfried of the thing?" So spake the valiant knight.
Then Hagen of Troneg said, "I don't think this is a good idea. Liudegast and Liudeger are really arrogant, and we can't gather all our men on such short notice. Why don't you tell Siegfried about it?" So spoke the brave knight.
To the messengers they bade give lodging in the town. Whatever hate they bore them, yet Gunther, the mighty, bade purvey them well, as was but right, till he discovered of his friends who there was who would lend him aid. Yet in his fears the king was ill at ease. Just then full blithe a knight, who wot not what had happed, saw him thus sad and prayed King Gunther to tell him of the matter. "Much it wondereth me," spake Siegfried, for he it was, "that ye thus have changed your merry wont, which ye have used thus far with us."
To the messengers, they instructed to find them accommodation in the town. No matter how much they disliked them, Gunther the mighty insisted they be treated well, as was right, until he could discover which of his friends would lend him help. Yet the king felt uneasy with his fears. Just then, a cheerful knight, unaware of what had happened, noticed his sad demeanor and asked King Gunther to explain the situation. "It surprises me," said Siegfried, for it was he, "that you have changed your usual cheerful ways that you have displayed with us up until now."
To this Gunther, the stately knight, replied: "It liketh me not to tell all folk the grievance which I must bear within my heart in secret wise. Only to trusty friends should one confide his woe of heart."
To this, Gunther, the noble knight, replied: "I don’t like to reveal to everyone the trouble I have to carry in my heart secretly. One should only share their heartache with trusted friends."
At this Siegfried's color waxed both pale and red. To the king he spake: "I have denied you naught and will gladly help you turn aside your woes. And ye seek friends, I will be one of them and trow well to deport myself with honor until mine end."
At this moment, Siegfried's face turned both pale and red. He said to the king: "I haven't refused you anything and will gladly help you overcome your troubles. And if you seek friends, I'll be one of them and make sure to conduct myself with honor until the end of my days."
"Now God reward you, Sir Siegfried, your speech thinketh me good, and though your prowess help me not, yet do I rejoice to hear that ye are friend to me, and live I yet a while, I shall repay you well. I will let you hear why I stand thus sad; from the messengers of my foes I have heard that they would visit me with war, a thing which knights have never done to us in all these lands."
"Now God reward you, Sir Siegfried, your words sound good to me, and even if your strength doesn't help me, it makes me happy to know you're my friend. If I live a little longer, I'll repay you well. Let me explain why I'm looking so sad; I've heard from my enemies' messengers that they're coming to fight me, something knights have never done to us in all these lands."
"Regard this lightly," spake then Siegfried, "and calm your mood. Do as I pray you. Let me gain for you both worship and advantage and do ye command your knights, that they gather to your aid. Should your mighty foes be helped by thirty thousand (3) men, yet could I withstand them, had I but a thousand; for that rely on me."
"Take this lightly," then Siegfried said, "and relax. Please do as I ask. Let me win you both respect and benefit, and you command your knights to come to your aid. Even if your powerful enemies are supported by thirty thousand men, I could stand against them with just a thousand; so trust me on this."
Then spake King Gunther: "For this I'll serve you ever."
Then King Gunther said, "I'll always serve you for this."
"So bid me call a thousand of your men, since of mine own I have but twelve, and I will guard your land. Faithfully shall the hand of Siegfried serve you. Hagen shall help us and also Ortwin, Dankwart, and Sindolt, your trusty men. Folker, the valiant man, shall also ride along; he shall bear the banner, for to none would I liefer grant it. Let now the envoys ride home to their masters' lands. Give them to understand they soon shall see us, that our castles may rest in peace."
"So let me call a thousand of your men, since I only have twelve of my own, and I'll protect your land. You can count on Siegfried to serve you faithfully. Hagen will help us, along with Ortwin, Dankwart, and Sindolt, your loyal men. Folker, the brave one, will also ride with us; he will carry the banner, because I wouldn't trust it to anyone else. Now, let the envoys return to their lords' lands. Make sure they know we’ll be seeing them soon, so that our castles can be at peace."
Then the king bade summon both his kinsmen and his men. The messengers of Liudeger betook them to the court. Fain they were that they should journey home again. Gunther, the good king, made offrance of rich gifts and gave them safe-convoy. At this their spirits mounted high. "Now say unto my foes," spake then Gunther, "that they may well give over their journey and stay at home; but if they will seek me here within my lands, hardships shall they know, and my friends play me not false."
Then the king ordered both his relatives and his men to be summoned. Liudeger's messengers took them to the court. They were eager to make their way home. Gunther, the good king, offered them lavish gifts and provided them with safe passage. This lifted their spirits. "Now tell my enemies," Gunther said, "that they might as well abandon their journey and stay home; but if they come looking for me in my lands, they will face difficulties, and my friends will not betray me."
Rich gifts men bare then for the envoys; enow of these had Gunther to bestow, nor durst the men of Liudeger refuse them. When at last they took their leave, they parted hence in merry mood.
Rich gifts were offered then for the envoys; Gunther had plenty to give, and the men of Liudeger didn't dare refuse them. When they finally said their goodbyes, they left in a cheerful spirit.
Now when the messengers were come to Denmark and King Liudegast had heard how they parted from the Rhine, as was told him, much he rued, in sooth, their (4) proud defiance. The envoys said that Gunther had full many a valiant man-at-arms and among them they saw a warrior stand, whose name was Siegfried, a hero from Netherland. Little liked it Liudegast when he heard aright this tale. When the men of Denmark had heard these tidings told, they hasted all the more to call their friends; till Sir Liudegast had gathered for his journey full twenty thousand knights from among his valiant men. Then King Liudeger, also, of Saxon land, sent forth his summons, till they had forty thousand men and more, with whom they thought to ride to the Burgundian land.
Now, when the messengers arrived in Denmark and King Liudegast heard how they had parted from the Rhine, as he was told, he truly regretted their proud defiance. The envoys reported that Gunther had many brave warriors, and among them, they saw a fighter named Siegfried, a hero from the Netherlands. Liudegast didn't like this news at all when he heard the full story. Once the men of Denmark learned this news, they quickly called their allies; soon, Sir Liudegast had gathered twenty thousand knights from his brave men for his journey. Then King Liudeger from Saxony also sent out his call, and they had gathered forty thousand men and more, planning to ride to the Burgundian lands.
Likewise at home King Gunther got him men-at-arms among his kin and the liegemen of his brothers, and among Hagen's men whom they wished to lead thence for battle. Much need of this the heroes had, but warriors soon must suffer death from this. Thus they made them ready for the journey. When they would hence, Folker, the daring, must bear the flag. In such wise they thought to ride from Worms across the Rhine. Hagen of Troneg was master of the troop; with them rode Sindolt and Hunolt, too, who wist well how to merit Gunther's gold. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, and Ortwin, too, well could they serve with honor in this war.
Likewise, back at home, King Gunther gathered warriors from among his relatives and his brothers' loyal followers, as well as from Hagen's men, whom they wanted to take into battle. The heroes had a great need for this, but the warriors would soon face death because of it. So, they prepared for the journey. When it was time to leave, Folker, the bold one, was to carry the flag. This is how they planned to ride from Worms across the Rhine. Hagen of Troneg led the group; Sindolt and Hunolt rode alongside, knowing how to earn Gunther's gold. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, and Ortwin were also skilled at serving honorably in this war.
"Sir King," spake then Siegfried, "stay ye at home; since that your warriors are willed to follow me, remain ye with the ladies and keep your spirits high. I trow well to guard for you both honor and estate. Well will I bring it to pass that those who thought to seek you out at Worms upon the Rhine, had better far have stayed at home. We shall ride so nigh unto their land that their proud defiance shall be turned to fear."
"Sir King," said Siegfried, "stay at home; since your warriors are eager to follow me, remain with the ladies and keep your spirits up. I assure you I will protect both your honor and your estate. I will make sure that those who considered coming to find you at Worms on the Rhine will wish they had stayed home. We will ride so close to their land that their arrogance will turn to fear."
From the Rhine they rode through Hesse with their warriors towards Saxon land, where they later fought. With fire and pillage, too, they harried all the countryside, so that the two kings did learn of it in dire distress. Then came they to the border; the warriors marched along. Siegfried, the strong, gan ask: "Who shall now guard here the troop?" Forsooth never did men ride more scathfully to the Saxons. They spake: "Let the valiant Dankwart guard the young upon the way, he is a doughty knight. Thus shall we lose the less through Liudeger's men. Let him and Ortwin guard the rear."
From the Rhine, they rode through Hesse with their warriors towards Saxon land, where they later fought. With fire and plunder, they ravaged the countryside, causing the two kings to learn of it in great distress. Then they reached the border, and the warriors marched on. Siegfried, the strong, asked, "Who will guard the troop now?" Truly, no men had ever ridden more recklessly into Saxon territory. They said, "Let the brave Dankwart protect the young ones on the way; he is a skilled knight. That way, we will lose less to Liudeger’s men. Let him and Ortwin guard the rear."
"Then I myself will ride," spake Siegfried, the knight, "and play the outlook toward the foe, until I discover aright where these warriors be." Quickly the son of fair Siegelind donned his harness. The troop he gave in charge to Hagen, when he would depart, and to Gernot, the valiant man. Thus he rode hence into the Saxon land alone and many a helmet band he cut to pieces on that day. Soon he spied the mighty host that lay encamped upon the plain and far outweighed the forces of his men. Forty thousand or better still there were. Full blithely Siegfried saw this in lofty mood. Meantime a warrior full well arrayed had mounted to the outlook 'gainst the foe. Him Sir Siegfried spied, and the bold man saw him, too. Each began to watch the other in hostile wise. Who it was, who stood on guard, I'll tell you now; a gleaming shield of gold lay by his hand. It was the good King Liudegast, who was guarding here his band. The noble stranger pricked along in lordly wise.
"Then I'll ride myself," said Siegfried, the knight, "and keep watch over the enemy until I can figure out exactly where these warriors are." Quickly, the son of fair Siegelind put on his armor. He entrusted the troop to Hagen and to the brave Gernot as he prepared to leave. So he rode off into Saxon territory alone, cutting down many helmet bands that day. Soon he spotted the massive army camped on the plain, greatly outnumbering his own forces. There were forty thousand or more of them. Siegfried looked upon this with a cheerful spirit. Meanwhile, a well-equipped warrior had mounted a lookout against the foe. Sir Siegfried noticed him, and the bold man saw him as well. They both began to watch each other with hostility. I'll tell you now who it was standing guard; a shining golden shield was by his side. It was the good King Liudegast, who was protecting his men here. The noble stranger moved gracefully and confidently.
Now had Sir Liudegast espied him with hostile eye. Into the flanks of their horses they plunged the spurs; with all their might they couched the spears against the shields. At this great fear befell the mighty king. After the thrust the horses carried past each other the royal knights, as though borne upon the wind. With the bridles they wheeled in knightly wise and the two fierce champions encountered with their swords. Then smote Sir Siegfried, so that the whole field did ring. Through the hero's hand from out the helmets, as from firebrands, flew the bright red sparks. Each in the other found his match. Sir Liudegast, too, struck many a savage blow; the might of each broke full upon the shields. Thirty of Liudegast's men stood there on guard, but ere they could come to his aid, Siegfried had won the fight, with three groat wounds which he dealt the king through his gleaming breastplate, the which was passing good. The blood from the wounds gushed forth along the edges of the sword, whereat King Liudegast stood in sorry mood. He begged for life and made offrance of his lands and said that his name was Liudegast. Then came his warrior's, who had witnessed what there had happed upon the lookout. As Siegfried would lead his captive thence, he was set upon by thirty of these men. With mighty blows the hero's hand guarded his noble prize. The stately knight then wrought worse scathe. In self-defense he did thirty unto death; only one he left alive, who rode full fast to tell the tale of what here had chanced. By his reddened helmet one might see the truth. It sorely grieved the men of Denmark, when the tale was told them that their king was taken captive. Men told it to his brother, who at the news began to rage with monstrous wrath, for great woe it brought him.
Now Sir Liudegast spotted him with a fierce look. They dug their spurs into their horses’ flanks and, with all their strength, leveled their spears against the shields. This filled the mighty king with great fear. After the clash, the horses sped past each other with their royal knights, seemingly carried by the wind. They expertly turned their horses, and the two fierce champions met in battle with their swords. Sir Siegfried struck fiercely, and the sound echoed across the field. Sparks flew from their helmets like blazing fire. Each found a worthy opponent. Sir Liudegast also landed many brutal blows; each hit crashed onto the shields. Thirty of Liudegast's men stood ready, but before they could help him, Siegfried had won the fight, dealing three severe wounds that pierced the king's shiny breastplate, which was of exceptional quality. Blood gushed from the wounds along the edges of the sword, leaving King Liudegast in a pitiful state. He begged for his life, offering his lands and introducing himself as Liudegast. Then his warriors, who had been watching from a distance, came racing in. As Siegfried was about to take his captive away, thirty of them attacked him. Striking with powerful blows, the hero protected his noble prize. The valiant knight then caused even greater damage. In self-defense, he killed thirty men; only one survived, riding off quickly to spread the news of what had happened. The red stains on his helmet revealed the truth. The men of Denmark were deeply saddened when they learned that their king had been captured. They shared the news with his brother, who, upon hearing it, was consumed with rage, as it brought him great sorrow.
Liudegast, the warrior, then was led away by Siegfried's might to Gunther's men and given to Hagen in charge. When that they heard it was the king, full moderate was their dole. The Burgundians now were bidden raise their banner. "Up, men," cried Siegfried, "here shall more be done, ere the day end, and I lose not my life. Full many a stately dame in Saxon land shall rue this fight. Ye heroes from the Rhine, give heed to me, for I can guide you well to Liudeger's band. So shall ye see helmets carved by the hands of goodly knights; ere we turn again, they shall become acquaint with fear."
Liudegast, the warrior, was then taken by Siegfried's strength to Gunther's men and handed over to Hagen for safekeeping. When they realized it was the king, their grief was quite subdued. The Burgundians were now instructed to raise their banner. "Come on, men," shouted Siegfried, "there’s more to be done before the day ends, and I won’t lose my life. Many noble women in Saxony will regret this battle. You heroes from the Rhine, listen to me, for I can lead you to Liudegast's crew. You'll see helmets marked by the hands of brave knights; before we turn back, those knights will learn what fear is."
To their horses Gernot and all his men now hasted, and soon the stalwart minstrel, Sir Folker, grasped the battle-flag and rode before the band. Then were all the comrades arrayed in lordly wise for strife; nor had they more than a thousand men, and thereto Siegfried's twelve men-at-arms. Now from the road gan rise the dust, as across the land they rode; many a lordly shield was seen to gleam from out their midst. There, too, were come the Saxons with their troops and well-sharpened swords, as I since have heard. Sore cut these weapons in the heroes' hands, for they would fain guard both their castles and their land against the strangers. The lordings' marshals led on the troop. Siegfried, too, was come with his men-at-arms, whom he had brought from Netherland. In the storm of battle many a hand this day grew red with blood. Sindolt and Hunolt and Gernot, too, slew many a knight in the strife, ere these rightly knew the boldness of their foes. This many a stately dame must needs bewail. Folker and Hagen and Ortwin, too, dimmed in the battle the gleam of many a helm with flowing blood, these storm-bold men. By Dankwart, too, great deeds were done.
Gernot and all his men hurried to their horses, and soon the brave minstrel, Sir Folker, grabbed the battle flag and rode ahead of the group. Then all the comrades lined up like lords ready for battle; they had just over a thousand men along with Siegfried's twelve warriors. Dust began to rise from the road as they rode across the land; many noble shields gleamed among them. The Saxons also arrived with their troops and well-sharpened swords, as I’ve heard since. These weapons cut deep in the hands of the heroes, as they aimed to protect both their castles and their land from outsiders. The leaders’ marshals guided the troops onward. Siegfried, too, had come with his warriors from the Netherlands. In the chaos of battle, many hands were stained red with blood that day. Sindolt, Hunolt, and Gernot also took down many knights in the fight before they truly realized the courage of their opponents. Many a noble lady had to mourn. Folker, Hagen, and Ortwin, too, darkened the shine of many helmets with flowing blood, these fierce men. Great feats were accomplished by Dankwart as well.
The men of Denmark proved well their hands; one heard many a shield resounding from the hurtling and from the sharp swords as well, many of which were wielded there. The battle-bold Saxons did scathe enow, but when the men of Burgundy pressed to the fight, by them was really a wide wound carved. Then down across the saddles the blood was seen to flow. Thus they fought for honors, these knights both bold and good. Loud rang the sharp weapons in the heroes' hands, as those of Netherland followed their lording through the sturdy host. Valiantly they forced their way in Siegfried's wake, but not a knight from the Rhine was seen to follow. Through the shining helmets one could see flow the bloody stream, drawn forth by Siegfried's hand, till at last he found Liudeger before his men-at-arms. Thrice had he pierced the host from end to end. Now was Hagen come, who helped him achieve in the battle all his mind. Before them many a good knight must needs die this day.
The men of Denmark showed their skill; you could hear many shields clashing from the flying blows and sharp swords being swung. The battle-ready Saxons inflicted a lot of damage, but when the men of Burgundy joined the fight, they really opened up a wide wound. Blood flowed down from the saddles. Thus, these brave and noble knights fought for glory. The sharp weapons echoed loudly in the heroes' hands as those from the Netherlands followed their leader through the strong crowd. They fought bravely in Siegfried's wake, but not a single knight from the Rhine was seen to follow. Through the shining helmets, you could see the blood streaming out, drawn forth by Siegfried’s hand, until he finally confronted Liudeger before his soldiers. He had pierced the enemy line three times. Now Hagen had arrived, helping him achieve all he wanted in battle. Many good knights had to die that day.
When the mighty Liudeger espied Siegfried and saw that he bore high in hand the good sword Balmung and did slay so many a man, then waxed the lording wroth and fierce enow. A mighty surging and a mighty clang of swords arose, as their comrades pressed against each other. The two champions tried their prowess all the more. The troops began to yield; fierce grew the hate. To the ruler of the Saxons the tale was told that his brother had been captured; great dole this gave him. Well he knew it was the son of Siegelind who had done the deed. Men blamed Sir Gernot, but later he learned the truth.
When the powerful Liudeger spotted Siegfried holding the legendary sword Balmung and taking down so many people, he became extremely angry and fierce. A loud clash of swords echoed as their allies pushed against one another. The two champions tested their skills even more. The soldiers began to falter; anger intensified. The Saxon ruler was informed that his brother had been captured, which deeply saddened him. He knew well that it was Siegelind's son who was responsible for this. People blamed Sir Gernot, but later he found out the truth.
So mighty were the blows of Liudeger that Siegfried's charger reeled beneath the saddle. When the steed recovered, bold Siegfried took on a frightful usance in the fray. In this Hagen helped him well, likewise Gernot, Dankwart, and Folker, too. Through them lay many dead. Likewise Sindolt and Hunolt and Ortwin, the knight, laid many low in strife; side by side in the fray the noble princes stood. One saw above the helmets many a spear, thrown by here's hand, hurtling through the gleaming shields. Blood-red was colored many a lordly buckler; many a man in the fierce conflict was unhorsed. At each other ran Siegfried, the brave, and Liudeger; shafts were seen to fly and many a keen-edged spear. Then off flew the shield-plates, struck by Siegfried's hand; the hero of Netherland thought to win the battle from the valiant Saxons, wondrous many of whom one saw. Ho! How many shining armor-rings the daring Dankwart broke!
The blows from Liudeger were so powerful that Siegfried's horse stumbled under him. When the horse regained its balance, brave Siegfried unleashed a terrifying assault in battle. Hagen, Gernot, Dankwart, and Folker all helped him out. They left many dead behind them. Sindolt, Hunolt, and the knight Ortwin also took down many in the fight; the noble princes stood together in the clash. Above their helmets, you could see spears flying from noble hands, crashing through shining shields. Many lordly shields were stained blood red; countless men were unseated in the intense battle. Siegfried, the fearless, and Liudeger charged at each other; arrows flew, and many sharp spears were thrown. Siegfried's strikes sent pieces of shields flying; the hero from the Netherlands aimed to triumph over the brave Saxons, many of whom were impressive. Wow! How many shining armor rings the fearless Dankwart smashed!
Then Sir Liudeger espied a crown painted on the shield in Siegfried's hand. Well he knew that it was Siegfried, the mighty man. To his friends the hero loudly called: "Desist ye from the strife, my men, here I have seen the son of Siegmund, Siegfried, the strong, and recognized him well. The foul fiend himself hath sent him hither to the Saxon land." The banners bade he lower in the fight. Peace he craved, and this was later granted him, but he must needs go as hostage to Gunther's land. This was wrung from him by valiant Siegfried's hand. With one accord they then gave over the strife and laid aside the many riddled helmets and the broad, battered bucklers. Whatever of these was found, bore the hue of blood from the Burgundians' hand. They captured whom they would, for this lay in their power. Gernot and Hagen, the full bold warriors, bade bear away the wounded; five hundred stately men they led forth captive to the Rhine. The worsted knights rode back to Denmark, nor had the Saxons fought so well that one could give them aught of praise, and this the heroes rued full sore. The fallen, too, were greatly mourned by friends.
Then Sir Liudeger spotted a crown painted on the shield in Siegfried's hand. He recognized it was Siegfried, the powerful warrior. To his friends, the hero loudly shouted, "Stop fighting, my men; I have seen the son of Siegmund, Siegfried the strong, and I know him well. The evil fiend himself has sent him here to Saxon land." He commanded that the banners be lowered in battle. He sought peace, which was eventually granted, but he had to go as a hostage to Gunther's land. This was forced upon him by the brave Siegfried. Together, they decided to end the conflict and set aside their many dented helmets and broad, battered shields. Anything found bore the blood of the Burgundians. They took whom they could, as it was in their power. Gernot and Hagen, the bold warriors, ordered the wounded to be carried away; five hundred noble men were led captive to the Rhine. The defeated knights returned to Denmark, and the Saxons hadn’t fought well enough to earn any praise, which deeply troubled the heroes. The fallen were also greatly mourned by their friends.
Then they bade place the weapons on sumpters for the Rhine. Siegfried, the warrior, and his heroes had wrought full well, as Gunther's men must needs confess. Sir Gernot now sent messengers homeward to Worms in his native land, and bade tell his kin what great success had happed to him and to his men, and how these daring knights had striven well for honor. The squirelings ran and told the tale. Then those who afore had sorrowed, were blithe for joy at the pleasing tidings that were come. Much questioning was heard from noble dames, how it had fared with the liegemen of the mighty king. One of the messengers they bade go to Kriemhild; this happed full secretly (openly she durst not), for she, too, had amongst them her own true love. When she saw the messenger coming to her bower, fair Kriemhild spake in kindly wise: "Now tell me glad news, I pray. And thou dost so without deceit, I will give thee of my gold and will ever be thy friend. How fared forth from the battle my brother Gernot and others of my kin? Are many of them dead perchance? Or who wrought there the best? This thou must tell me."
Then they ordered the weapons to be placed on pack animals for the Rhine. Siegfried, the warrior, and his heroes had performed admirably, as Gunther's men would have to admit. Sir Gernot then sent messengers back to Worms, his homeland, to inform his family of the great success he and his men had achieved, and how these brave knights had fought hard for honor. The young squires ran off to share the news. Those who had previously mourned were now joyful at the delightful news that had arrived. Noble ladies were filled with questions about how the loyal followers of the mighty king had fared. They sent one of the messengers to Kriemhild; this was done in secret (she couldn't do it openly), for she had her own true love among them. When she saw the messenger approaching her chamber, the fair Kriemhild spoke kindly: "Now tell me good news, I ask you. If you do so honestly, I will give you some of my gold and will always be your friend. How did my brother Gernot and the others of my family fare in the battle? Are many of them dead, perhaps? Or who performed the best? You must tell me."
Quickly then the envoy spake: "Ne'er a coward did we have, but, to tell the truth, O noble queen, none rode so well to the strife and fray, as did the noble stranger from Netherland. Mickle wonders the hand of valiant Siegfried wrought. Whate'er the knights have done in strife, Dankwart and Hagen and other men of the king, however much they strove for honor, 'tis but as the wind compared with Siegfried, the son of Siegmund, the king. They slew full many a hero in the fray, but none might tell you of the wonders which Siegfried wrought, whenever he rode into the fight. Great woe he did the ladies through their kin; upon the field the love of many a dame lay dead. His blows were heard to ring so loud upon the helmets, that from the wounds they drew forth the blood in streams. In every knightly art he is a worthy knight and a brave. Whatever Ortwin of Metz achieved (and he whom he could reach with his good sword, fell sorely wounded, but mostly dead), yet your brother wrought the direst woe that could ever chance in battle. One must say of the chosen knights in truth, that these proud Burgundians acquitted them so well that they can well preserve their honor from every taint of shame. Through their hands we saw many a saddle bare, while the field resounded with the flashing swords. So well rode the warriors from the Rhine, that it were better for their foes had it been avoided. The valiant men of Troneg, also, wrought dire woe, when in great numbers the armies met. Bold Hagen's hand did many a one to death; of this full many stories might be told here in the Burgundian land. Sindolt and Hunolt, Gernot's men, Rumolt the brave, have done such deeds that it may well ever rue Liudeger that he made war upon thy kinsmen by the Rhine. The very best fight that happed from first to last, that one has ever seen, was made full lustily by Siegfried's hand. Rich hostages he bringeth to Gunther's land. He won them by his prowess, this stately man. Of this King Liudegast must bear the loss and eke his brother Liudeger of Saxon land. Now listen to my tale, most noble queen: by the hand of Siegfried the twain were caught. Never have men brought so many hostages to this land, as now are coming to the Rhine through him. Men are bringing to our land five hundred or more unharmed captives; and of the deadly wounded, my lady, know, not less than eighty blood-red biers. These men were mostly wounded by bold Siegfried's hand. Those who in haughty pride sent a challenge to the Rhine, must now needs be the captives of Gunther, the king, and men are bringing them with joy unto this land."
Quickly then the envoy spoke: "We’ve never had a coward among us, but honestly, noble queen, none fought as fiercely in battle as the noble stranger from the Netherlands. It’s amazing what the valiant Siegfried accomplished. Whatever the other knights did in battle, Dankwart and Hagen and the other king's men, no matter how hard they fought for honor, it’s nothing compared to Siegfried, the son of Siegmund, the king. They killed many heroes in the fray, but no one can recount the amazing feats Siegfried performed every time he rode into the battle. He brought great sorrow to many ladies through their families; on the battlefield, the love of many women lay lifeless. His strikes were so loud against the helmets that the blood poured out in streams from the wounds. In every knightly skill, he is truly a worthy and brave knight. Whatever Ortwin of Metz accomplished (those he could reach with his sword fell seriously wounded, most of them dead), your brother caused the most terrible havoc that could ever happen in battle. One must honestly say about the chosen knights, that these proud Burgundians upheld their honor without any hint of shame. Through their hands, we saw many an empty saddle, while the field echoed with flashing swords. The warriors from the Rhine fought so well that it would have been better for their enemies if they’d stayed away. The brave men from Troneg also caused great destruction when the armies clashed in large numbers. Bold Hagen’s hand dealt death to many; numerous stories could be told here in the Burgundian land. Sindolt and Hunolt, Gernot’s men, and the brave Rumolt have done such deeds that Liudeger will forever regret making war against your kin by the Rhine. The best battle ever seen from start to finish was fought with great vigor by Siegfried. He brings rich hostages to Gunther's land, won by his strength, this noble man. King Liudegast must bear the loss along with his brother Liudeger of Saxon land. Now listen to my story, noble queen: Siegfried captured both of them. Never have men brought so many hostages to this land as are now coming to the Rhine through him. Men are bringing to our land five hundred or more unharmed captives; and of the seriously wounded, my lady, know that there are at least eighty blood-red biers. Most of these men were wounded by the brave hand of Siegfried. Those who proudly challenged the Rhine must now become captives of King Gunther, and they are being joyfully brought to this land."
Still higher rose Kriemhild's color when she heard this tale. Her fair face blushed a rosy red, that Siegfried, the youth, the stately knight, had fared forth so joyfully from the dangerous strife. These tidings could not have pleased her better. For her kinsmen, too, she rejoiced in duty bound. Then spake the lovely maid: "A fair tale thou hast told me; therefore shalt thou have as guerdon rich attire. Likewise I'll have thee brought ten marks of gold." (5) Small wonder that such tales are gladly told to noble dames.
Still higher rose Kriemhild's color when she heard this story. Her beautiful face turned a rosy red, knowing that Siegfried, the young and noble knight, had come through the dangerous conflict so joyfully. This news could not have made her happier. She was also glad for her relatives, as was her duty. Then the lovely maiden spoke: "You've told me a wonderful tale; for that, you'll receive fine clothing as a reward. I will also have ten marks of gold brought to you." (5) It’s no surprise that such stories are gladly shared with noble ladies.
They gave him then his guerdon, the garments and the gold. Then many a fair maid hied her to the casement and gazed upon the street, where many high-mettled warriors were seen riding into the Burgundian land. There came the champions, the wounded and the sound. Without shame they heard the greetings of their friends. Merrily the host rode forth to meet his guests, for his great sorrow had been turned to joy. Well greeted he his vassals and the strangers, too; for it was only meet that the mighty king in courtly wise should thank those who were come back to him, because in the storm of battle they had won the fight with honor. Gunther bade his kinsmen tell who had been slain upon the march; but sixty had been lost, whom one must mourn, as is the wont with heroes. Many a riven shield and battered helm the unharmed warriors brought to Gunther's land. The men alighted from their steeds before the palace of the king. Loud was heard the joyous sound of the merry welcome; then order was given to lodge the warriors in the town. The king bade minister well unto his guests, attend the wounded and give them good easement. His courtesie was cleverly seen upon his foes. He spake to Liudegast: "Now be ye welcome. Much damage have I ta'en because of you; for this I shall now be repaid, if fortune favor. God reward my kinsmen, for they have given me joy."
They then rewarded him with his gifts, the clothes and the gold. Then many lovely maidens hurried to the window and looked out at the street, where numerous brave warriors were riding into the Burgundian land. The champions arrived, both wounded and healthy. Without embarrassment, they accepted the greetings of their friends. Cheerfully, the host rode out to meet his guests, for his great sorrow had turned into joy. He warmly welcomed his vassals and the newcomers, as it was right for the mighty king to graciously thank those who returned to him, because in the heat of battle they had fought with honor. Gunther asked his relatives to share who had been lost during the march; but sixty had perished, and they were to be mourned, as is customary for heroes. Many a split shield and damaged helmet the uninjured warriors brought to Gunther's land. The men dismounted from their horses in front of the king's palace. The cheerful sounds of their warm welcome filled the air; then orders were given to accommodate the warriors in the town. The king instructed that his guests be well taken care of, that the wounded receive attention, and that they find relief. His courtesy was clearly shown to his enemies. He spoke to Liudegast: "Now you are welcome. I have suffered much because of you; for this I shall now seek repayment, if fortune permits. God reward my kinsmen, for they have brought me joy."
"Well may ye thank them," answered Liudeger; "such noble hostages hath king never gained afore. For fair treatment we offer great store of wealth, that ye may act with mercy towards your foes."
"You're right to thank them," Liudeger replied; "no king has ever secured such noble hostages before. We offer a significant amount of wealth for fair treatment, so you can show mercy towards your enemies."
"I will let you both go free," spake Gunther, "but I must have surety that my foes remain here with me, that they do not leave the land against my will." To that Liudeger pledged his hand.
"I'll let you both go free," said Gunther, "but I need to be sure that my enemies stay here with me and don’t leave the land against my wishes." To that, Liudeger offered his hand.
Men brought them to their lodgings and gave them easement. The wounded were bedded well, and for the sound were poured out good mead and wine. Never could the comrades have been more merry. Their battered shields were borne away for keeping, and enow there was of bloody saddles which one bade hide away, that the ladies might not weep. Many a good knight returned aweary from the fray. The king did make his guests great cheer. His lands were full of strangers and of home-folk. He bade ease the sorely wounded in kindly wise; their haughty pride was now laid low. Men offered to the leeches rich rewards, silver without weight and thereto shining gold, if they would heal the heroes from the stress of war. To his guests the king likewise gave great gifts. Those that were minded to set out for home, were asked to stay, as one doth to friends. The king bethought him how he might requite his men, for they had brought to pass his wish for fame and honor.
Men took them to their accommodations and provided them comfort. The injured were well cared for, and good mead and wine were poured out for the healthy. The comrades couldn't have been happier. Their damaged shields were taken away for safekeeping, and there were plenty of bloody saddles hidden away so the ladies wouldn't cry. Many brave knights returned exhausted from the battle. The king welcomed his guests warmly. His lands were filled with strangers and locals. He kindly tended to the severely wounded; their haughty pride was now humbled. People offered rich rewards to the healers—silver without measure and shining gold—if they could cure the heroes from the hardships of war. The king also bestowed great gifts upon his guests. Those who planned to head home were invited to stay, as one does to friends. The king thought about how to reward his men, for they had fulfilled his desire for fame and honor.
Then spake Lord Gernot: "Let them ride away, but be it made known to them that in six weeks they must come again for a mighty feast. By then will many a one be healed who now lieth sorely wounded."
Then Lord Gernot said: "Let them ride away, but let it be known to them that in six weeks they must return for a grand feast. By then, many who are badly injured will be healed."
Then Siegfried of Netherland also asked for leave, but when King Gunther learned his wish, lovingly he bade him stay erstwhile. Were it not for the king's sister, this were never done. He was too rich to take reward, though he well deserved it and the king liked him well, as also did the kinsmen, who had seen what happed in battle through his strength. For the sake of one fair lady he thought to stay, if perchance he might espy her. Later it was done, and according to his wish he met the maid. He rode thereafter joyfully to Siegmund's land.
Then Siegfried of the Netherlands also asked for permission to leave, but when King Gunther heard his request, he kindly asked him to stay for a while. If it weren't for the king's sister, this wouldn’t have happened. Siegfried was too wealthy to accept a reward, even though he truly deserved it, and the king liked him as did the relatives who had witnessed his strength in battle. For the sake of one beautiful lady, he decided to stay, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Later, it happened, and as he wished, he met the maiden. He then joyfully rode to Siegmund's land.
At all times the host bade practice knighthood, and many a youthful knight did this right gladly. Meanwhile he ordered seats prepared upon the sand before the town of Worms for those who were to visit him in the Burgundian land. At the time when they should come, fair Kriemhild heard it said that the king would hold a feasting for the sake of his dear friends. Then comely women hasted apace with robes and headgear which they were to don. The noble Uta heard tales told of the proud warriors who were to come. Then many rich dresses were taken from the press. To please her children she bade make garments ready, that many ladies and many maids might therewith be decked and many youthful knights of the Burgundian land. Also for many of the strangers she bade fashion lordly robes.
At all times, the host encouraged practicing knighthood, and many young knights happily participated. Meanwhile, he arranged for seats to be set up on the sand in front of the town of Worms for those who would visit him in Burgundian land. When the time came for their arrival, fair Kriemhild heard that the king was going to hold a feast for his dear friends. Then, lovely women hurried to prepare robes and headgear for the occasion. The noble Uta heard stories about the proud warriors who were coming. Many fine dresses were taken out of storage. To please her children, she ordered garments to be made so that many ladies and maidens could be dressed elegantly, along with many young knights from the Burgundian land. She also had magnificent robes created for many of the guests.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Saxons". This war with the Saxons does not appear in the poetic "Edda", but was probably introduced into the story later to provide the heroes with a suitable activity in the period elapsing between Siegfried's marriage and the journey to Brunhild's land. (In our poem it is placed before the marriage.) It reflects the ancient feuds between the Franks on the one hand and the Saxons and Danes on the other. Originally Siegfried probably did not take part in it, but was later introduced and made the leader of the expedition in place of the king, in accordance with the tendency to idealize him and to give him everywhere the most important role. The two opposing leaders are "Liudeger", lord of the Saxons, and "Liudegast", king of Denmark. In "Biterolf" Liudeger rules over both Saxons and Danes, and Liudegast is his brother. (2) "Fey". This Scotch and older English word has been chosen to translate the M.H.G. "veige", 'fated', 'doomed', as it is etymologically the same word. The ancient Germans were fatalists and believed only those would die in battle whom fate had so predestined. (3) "Thirty thousand". The M.H.G. epics are fond of round numbers and especially of thirty and its multiples. They will be found to occur very frequently in our poem. See Lachmann, "Anmerkungen zu den Nibelungen", 474 1. (4) "Their". The original is obscure here; the meaning is, 'when he heard with what message they were come, he rued the haughtiness of the Burgundians'. (5) "Marks of gold". A mark (Lat. "mares") was half a pound of gold or silver.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Saxons". This war with the Saxons isn't mentioned in the poetic "Edda," but it was probably added to the story later to give the heroes something to do in the time between Siegfried's marriage and the trip to Brunhild's land. (In our poem, it's placed before the marriage.) It reflects the ancient conflicts between the Franks on one side and the Saxons and Danes on the other. Originally, Siegfried likely didn't participate in it, but he was later included and made the leader of the expedition instead of the king, in line with the trend to idealize him and give him the most significant role everywhere. The two opposing leaders are "Liudeger," lord of the Saxons, and "Liudegast," king of Denmark. In "Biterolf," Liudeger rules over both the Saxons and Danes, and Liudegast is his brother. (2) "Fey". This Scottish and older English word has been chosen to translate the M.H.G. "veige," meaning 'fated' or 'doomed,' as it comes from the same root. The ancient Germans were fatalists and believed that only those fated to die would do so in battle. (3) "Thirty thousand". The M.H.G. epics often use round numbers, especially thirty and its multiples. These numbers appear frequently in our poem. See Lachmann, "Anmerkungen zu den Nibelungen", 474 1. (4) "Their". The original text is unclear here; it means that 'when he heard what message they had brought, he regretted the arrogance of the Burgundians.' (5) "Marks of gold". A mark (Lat. "mares") was half a pound of gold or silver.
ADVENTURE V. How Siegfried First Saw Kriemhild.
One saw daily riding to the Rhine those who would fain be at the feasting. Full many of these who for the king's sake were come into the land, were given steeds and lordly harness. Seats were prepared for all, for the highest and the best, as we are told, for two and thirty princes at the feast. For this, too, the fair ladies vied in their attire. Giselher, the youth, was aught but idle; he and Gernot and all their men received the friends and strangers. In truth, they gave the knights right courtly greetings. These brought into the land many a saddle of golden red, dainty shields and lordly armor to the feasting on the Rhine. Many a wounded man was seen full merry since. Even those who lay abed in stress of wounds, must needs forget the bitterness of death. Men ceased to mourn for the weak and sick and joyed in prospect of the festal day, and how well they would fare at the feasting of the king. Pleasure without stint and overabundance of joy pervaded all the folk which there were seen. Therefore great rejoicing arose throughout the whole of Gunther's land.
Every day, people rode to the Rhine, eager to join the feast. Many who had come to the land for the king’s sake were given horses and fine gear. Seats were arranged for everyone, including two and thirty princes for the feast, as we’ve heard. The lovely ladies also competed in their outfits. Giselher, the young prince, was far from idle; he and Gernot, along with all their men, welcomed friends and strangers. They gave the knights warm and courteous greetings. These knights brought many splendid gifts to the land, including golden red saddles, elegant shields, and noble armor for the feast at the Rhine. Many a wounded man appeared quite happy as a result. Even those who lay in bed suffering from injuries found a way to forget the bitterness of death. People stopped mourning for the weak and sick and looked forward to the festive day, anticipating how well they would enjoy the king’s feast. Joy and happiness filled everyone present. Thus, great celebration spread throughout all of Gunther's realm.
Upon a Whitsun morning five thousand or more brave men, clad in glad attire, were seen going forth to the high festal tide. On all sides they vied with each other in knightly sports. The host marked well, what he already wet, how from his very heart the hero of Netherland did love his sister, albeit he had never seen her, whose comeliness men praised above all maids. Then spake the knight Ortwin to the king: "Would ye have full honor at your feast, so should ye let be seen the charming maids, who live in such high honors here in Burgundy. What were the joy of man, what else could give him pleasure, but pretty maids and noble dames? Pray let your sister go forth before the guests." To the joy of many a hero was this counsel given.
On a Whitsun morning, over five thousand brave men dressed in festive attire were seen heading out to the grand celebration. All around them, they competed in knightly sports. The host noticed how deeply the hero of Netherland loved his sister, even though he had never seen her, whose beauty was praised above all other maidens. Then the knight Ortwin spoke to the king: "If you want to truly honor your feast, you should let the beautiful maidens, who hold such high status here in Burgundy, be seen. What joy is there for a man, what else could bring him happiness, but lovely maidens and noble ladies? Please let your sister come out before the guests." This advice brought joy to many heroes.
"This will I gladly do," spake then the king, and all who heard it were merry at the thought. Then bade he say to the Lady Uta and her comely daughter, that with their maidens they should come to court. From the presses they took fair raiment and whatso of rich attire was laid away. Of rings and ribbons, too, enow they had. Thus each stately maiden decked herself with zeal. Full many a youthful knight upon that day was of the mind that he was so fair to look upon for ladies, that he would not exchange this chance for the lands of any mighty king. Gladly they gazed on those whom till now they had not known. Then bade the mighty king full a hundred of his men, who were his kin and hers, escort his sister and serve her thus. These were the court retainers of the Burgundian land and carried swords in hand. Soon one saw the noble Uta coming with her child. Full hundred or more fair ladies had she taken for her train, who wore rich robes. Likewise there followed her daughter many a stately maid. When from out a bower men saw them come, there rose a mighty press of knights who had the hope, if that might be, to gaze with joy upon the noble maid. Now came she forth, the lovely fair, as doth the red of dawn from out the lowering clouds. He then was reft of many woes who bore her in his heart so long a time, when he saw the lovely maid stand forth so glorious. How shone full many a precious stone upon her robes! In lovely wise her rose-red hue appeared. Whatever one might wish, he could not but confess that never in the world had he beheld a fairer maid. As the radiant moon, whose sheen is thrown so brightly on the clouds, doth stand before the stars, so stood she now before full many a stately dame. Therefore higher rose the spirits of the comely knights. Richly appareled chamberlains marched on in front, while the high-mettled warriors forsooth must press where they might see the lovely maid. At this Lord Siegfried felt both joy and dole. To himself he thought: "How could that chance, that I should love thee? That is a foolish dream. But if I now must lose thee, then were I better dead." At thought of this his color came and went. There stood the son of Siegmund in such dainty grace, as he were limned on parchment by skillful master's art. Indeed 'twas said of him that never had so fair a knight been seen. The escort of the ladies now bade everywhere give way and many a man obeyed. These high-born hearts rejoiced full many a wight, as thus so many a noble dame appeared in courtly bearing.
"I will gladly do this," the king said, and everyone who heard it felt joyful at the thought. He then instructed that Lady Uta and her beautiful daughter, along with their maidens, should come to court. They took out beautiful clothes and all the rich attire that had been set aside. They also had plenty of rings and ribbons. So, each elegant maiden dressed herself with excitement. Many young knights on that day felt so handsome in the presence of the ladies that they wouldn't trade this moment for the lands of any powerful king. They eagerly looked at those they hadn't known until now. The mighty king then ordered a hundred of his men, who were both his family and hers, to escort his sister and serve her. These were the court retainers of the Burgundian land, carrying swords. Soon, they saw the noble Uta coming with her child. She had gathered a hundred or more beautiful ladies, all dressed in rich robes. Her daughter was followed by many elegant maidens. When people saw them coming out of a bower, a great crowd of knights gathered, hoping to catch a joyful glimpse of the noble maid. Then she appeared, the lovely one, like the red dawn breaking through dark clouds. The one who had loved her so long felt relieved of his troubles when he saw her stand forth, radiant. Many precious stones sparkled on her robes! Her rose-red hue was truly enchanting. Everyone who looked at her had to admit that they had never seen a fairer maid. Like the glowing moon shining brightly on clouds before the stars, she stood out before many noble ladies. This lifted the spirits of the handsome knights. Richly dressed attendants marched in front, while the proud warriors pressed in to catch a glimpse of the lovely maid. Lord Siegfried felt both joy and sorrow. He thought to himself, "How could I fall in love with you? That's a foolish dream. But if I have to lose you now, I'd rather be dead." With this thought, his face changed from pale to flushed. There stood the son of Siegmund with such graceful charm, as if he were drawn on parchment by a skilled artist. Indeed, it was said that no knight had ever been so fair. The escorts of the ladies called for everyone to make way, and many complied. These high-born hearts delighted many as so many noble ladies presented themselves with elegant grace.
Then spake Lord Gernot of Burgundy: "Dear brother Gunther, him who offered service in such kindly wise, ye should in like manner requite before these knights; nor shall I ever rue this counsel. Bid Siegfried now approach my sister, that the maid may greet him; this will ever be our gain. She who never greeted warrior shall greet him fair, that by this means we now may win the stately knight."
Then Lord Gernot of Burgundy said, "Dear brother Gunther, you should repay the one who offered his service so kindly in front of these knights; I will never regret giving this advice. Have Siegfried come to my sister so that she can welcome him; this will always be beneficial for us. She who has never greeted a warrior will greet him warmly, and through this, we can win the noble knight."
Then went the kinsmen of the host to fetch the hero. To the champion from Netherland they spake: "You hath the king permitted to go to court; his sister is to greet you. This hath he decreed to do you honor."
Then the relatives of the host went to get the hero. They spoke to the champion from Netherland: "The king has allowed you to go to court; his sister wants to greet you. He has decided to do this in your honor."
At this the lord grew blithe of mood, for in his heart he bare joy without alloy, that he thus should see fair Uta's child. With lovely grace she greeted Siegfried then, but when she saw the haughty knight stand thus before her, her cheeks flamed bright. "Be welcome, Sir Siegfried, most good and noble knight," the fair maid spake, and at this greeting his spirits mounted high. Courteously he made obeisance; she took him by the hand. How gallantly he walked by the lady's side! Upon each other this lord and lady gazed with kindling eyes. Full secretly this happed. Was perchance a white hand there fervently pressed by heart-felt love? That know I not; yet I cannot believe that this was left undone, for soon had she betrayed to him her love. Nevermore in summertide nor in the days of May bare he within his heart such lofty joy as now he gained, when hand in hand he walked with her whom he fain would call his love.
At this, the lord felt cheerful, for he was genuinely happy to see fair Uta's child. She greeted Siegfried with lovely grace, but when she noticed the proud knight standing before her, her cheeks flushed bright red. "Welcome, Sir Siegfried, most noble knight," the beautiful maiden said, and this greeting lifted his spirits. He courteously bowed, and she took him by the hand. He walked gallantly by her side, and they looked at each other with sparkling eyes. What happened between them was private. Was a white hand pressed against the heart with deep love? I can't say for sure, but I find it hard to believe nothing happened, as she soon revealed her feelings for him. Never again in summer or during the days of May had he felt such profound joy as he did now, walking hand in hand with the one he wished to call his love.
Then thought full many a knight: "Had that but happed to me, to walk thus with her hand in hand, as now I see him do, or to lie beside her, I'd bear it willingly."
Then many a knight thought: "If that had happened to me, to walk hand in hand with her like I see him doing now, or to lie next to her, I would gladly accept it."
Never has warrior better served to gain a queen. From whatever land the guests were come, all gazed alike upon this pair alone. She then was bidden kiss the stately man, to whom no such delight had ever happened in this world.
Never has a warrior better served to win a queen. No matter where the guests came from, they all looked at this couple alone. She was then asked to kiss the impressive man, to whom such joy had never happened in this world.
Then spake the king of Denmark: "Because of this high greeting many a warrior lieth wounded (this wot I well), through Siegfried's hand. God grant that he may never come again to my kingly lands."
Then the king of Denmark said, "Because of this grand greeting, many warriors lie wounded (I know this well) because of Siegfried. May God ensure that he never returns to my kingdom."
On all sides they bade make way for Kriemhild, as thus to church one saw her go with many a valiant knight in courtly wise. Then soon the stately knight was parted from her side. Thus went she to the minster, followed by many a dame. So full of graces was this queenly maid that many a daring wish must needs be lost. Born she was to be the eyes' delight of many a knight. Siegfried scarce could wait till mass was sung. Well might he think his fortune that she did favor him, whom thus he bare in heart. Cause enow he had to love the fair.
On all sides, they cleared the way for Kriemhild as she made her way to the church, accompanied by many brave knights in a noble manner. Soon, the impressive knight was separated from her side. She continued to the minster, followed by many ladies. This queenly maiden was so full of grace that many daring wishes were bound to remain unspoken. She was destined to be the delight of many knights’ eyes. Siegfried could hardly wait for the mass to be over. He felt lucky that she favored him, someone he cherished deeply. He had plenty of reasons to love the beautiful lady.
When she came forth from out the minster, they begged the gallant knight again to bear her company, as he had done afore. Then first the lovely maid began to thank him that he had fought so gloriously before so many knights. "Now God requite you, Sir Siegfried," spake the comely maid, "that ye have brought to pass with your service, that the warriors do love you with such fealty as I hear them say."
When she came out of the church, they asked the brave knight once more to accompany her, just as he had before. Then the beautiful lady began to thank him for fighting so heroically in front of so many knights. "May God reward you, Sir Siegfried," said the lovely maid, "for your service has made the warriors hold you in such loyalty as I’ve heard them say."
Then upon Dame Kriemhild he began to gaze in loving wise. "I will serve them ever," spake then the knight, "and while life shall last, never will I lay my head to rest till I have done their will; and this I do, my Lady Kriemhild, to win your love."
Then he started looking at Lady Kriemhild with love in his eyes. "I will always serve them," said the knight, "and as long as I live, I won’t rest until I’ve fulfilled their wishes; and I do this, my Lady Kriemhild, to win your love."
A twelfth-night long, on each and every day, one saw the winsome maid beside the knight, when she should go to court to meet her kin. This service was done from sheer delight. A great rout of joy and pleasure was daily seen in front of Gunther's hall, without and eke within, from many a daring man. Ortwin and Hagen began to do great marvels. Whatever any wished to play, these lusty knights were fully ready; thus they became well known to all the guests and so the whole of Gunther's land was decked with honor. Those who had lain wounded were now seen coming forth; they, too, would fain have pastime with the troop and guard themselves with bucklers and hurl the shaft. Enow there were to help them, for there was great store of men.
A twelfth night long, every single day, you could see the charming maiden next to the knight when she went to court to meet her family. This service was done purely for pleasure. There was a big scene of joy and fun every day in front of Gunther's hall, both outside and inside, with many adventurous men. Ortwin and Hagen started to pull off amazing feats. Whatever anyone wanted to play, these lively knights were always ready; because of this, they became well known to all the guests, and Gunther's entire land was filled with honor. Those who had been wounded were now seen coming out; they, too, wanted to have fun with the group and protect themselves with shields and throw arrows. There were enough people to help them, as there was a great number of men.
At the feasting the host bade purvey them with the best of cheer. He kept him free from every form of blame that might befall a king; men saw him move in friendly wise among his guests. He spake: "Ye worthy knights, ere ye go hence, pray take my gifts. I am minded to deserve it of you ever. Do not disdain my goods, the which I'll share with you, as I have great desire."
At the feast, the host made sure to provide everyone with the best food and drink. He stayed clear of any kind of blame that could come to a king; people saw him interacting warmly with his guests. He said, "You noble knights, before you leave, please accept my gifts. I want to earn your favor always. Don’t turn down my offerings, which I’m eager to share with you."
Then up spake they of Denmark: "Ere we ride homeward to our land, we crave a lasting peace; we knights have need thereof, for many a one of our kinsmen lieth dead at the hands of your men-at-arms."
Then the Danes spoke up: "Before we head back to our country, we ask for a lasting peace; we knights need it because many of our relatives have been killed by your soldiers."
Liudegast, the Saxon chief, was now cured of his wounds and had recovered from the fray, though many dead they left within this land. Then King Gunther went to find Sir Siegfried; to the knight he spake: "Now tell me what to do. Our foes would fain ride early and beg for lasting peace of me and of my men. Advise me now, Knight Siegfried, what thinketh thee good to do? What the lordings offer me will I tell thee; what of gold five hundred steeds can bear, that would they gladly give me, and I set them free again."
Liudegast, the Saxon leader, was now healed from his injuries and had recovered from the battle, although they had left many dead in the land. Then King Gunther went to find Sir Siegfried and said to him: "Now tell me what to do. Our enemies want to ride out early and ask for lasting peace from me and my men. Advise me now, Knight Siegfried, what do you think is best to do? I will tell you what the lords are offering me; they would gladly give me five hundred horses worth of gold if I let them go free again."
Then spake the mighty Siegfried: "That were done but ill. Let them ride hence unhindered, but make each of the lordings give surety with his hand, that their noble knights henceforth forbear all hostile riding hither to your land."
Then spoke the mighty Siegfried: "That would not be right. Let them ride away unbothered, but make each of the lords guarantee with his hand that their noble knights will stop any hostile rides into your land from now on."
"This counsel will I follow." Herewith they parted, and to the king's foes was told that no one craved the gold they proffered. For their loved friends at home the battle-weary warriors longed. Many a shield full of treasure was then brought forth which the king dealt out unweighed to his many friends, to each five hundred marks of gold, and to a few, still more. Gernot, the brave, had counseled Gunther this. Then they all took leave, sith they would hence. One saw the guests draw nigh to Kriemhild and also to where Dame Uta sate. Never yet were knights dismissed in better wise. Lodgings grew empty as they rode away, but still there stayed at home the king and all his kin and many a noble liegeman. Daily they were seen as they went to Lady Kriemhild. The good knight Siegfried now would likewise take his leave; he weened not to win that on which his mind was set. The king heard said that he would hence, but Giselher, the youth, quite won him from the journey.
"I will follow this advice." With that, they parted ways, and the king's enemies were informed that no one wanted the gold they offered. The battle-weary warriors longed for their dear friends at home. Many shields full of treasure were then brought forth, which the king distributed freely to his many friends, giving each five hundred marks of gold, and to a few, even more. Gernot, the brave, had advised Gunther to do this. Then they all took their leave since they were ready to go. One could see the guests approach Kriemhild and also where Lady Uta sat. Never before had knights been dismissed in such a gracious manner. The lodgings became empty as they rode away, but the king, all his kin, and many noble vassals remained at home. Daily, they were seen visiting Lady Kriemhild. The good knight Siegfried now wanted to take his leave as well; he did not think he would gain what he desired. The king heard that he was leaving, but Giselher, the young prince, persuaded him to stay.
"Whither would ye ride now, noble Siegfried? Pray tarry with the knights, I beg you, with Gunther the king and with his men. Here, too, are many comely dames whom we shall gladly let you see."
"Where would you like to ride now, noble Siegfried? Please stay with the knights, I ask you, with King Gunther and his men. Here, too, are many lovely ladies that we would be happy to show you."
Then spake the mighty Siegfried: "Let stand the steeds. I listed to ride hence, but now will I desist. The shields, too, bear away. To my land I craved to go, in truth, but Giselher with his great love hath turned me from it."
Then spoke the mighty Siegfried: "Let the horses stand. I wanted to ride away, but now I’ll hold off. Take the shields with you, too. I genuinely wanted to return to my land, but Giselher's deep affection has changed my mind."
So the valiant knight stayed on to please his friends, nor could he have fared more gentilly in any land. This happed because he daily saw Kriemhild, the fair; for the sake of her unmeasured beauty the lording stayed. With many a pastime they whiled the hours away, but still her love constrained him and often gave him dole. Because of this same love in later days the valiant knight lay pitiful in death.
So the brave knight stayed to make his friends happy, and he couldn't have been more gracious anywhere else. This happened because he saw Kriemhild, the beautiful, every day; he stayed because of her unmatched beauty. They spent their time enjoying many activities, but her love still weighed heavily on him and often caused him sorrow. Because of this same love, the brave knight would later die a tragic death.
ADVENTURE VI. How Gunther Fared To Isenland (1) for Brunhild.
New tidings came across the Rhine. 'Twas said that yonder many a fair maid dwelt. The good king Gunther thought to win him one of these; high therefore rose the warrior's spirits. There lived a queen beyond the sea, whose like men knew not anywhere. Peerless was her beauty and great her strength. With doughty knights she shot the shaft for love. The stone she hurled afar and sprang far after it. He who craved her love must win without fail three games from this high-born dame. When the noble maid had done this passing oft, a stately knight did hear it by the Rhine. He turned his thoughts upon this comely dame, and so heroes must needs later lose their lives.
New news traveled across the Rhine. It was said that many beautiful maidens lived there. The good King Gunther thought to win one of them; therefore, the warrior's spirits soared high. There lived a queen across the sea, unlike anyone men had seen. Her beauty was unmatched, and her strength was remarkable. With brave knights, she shot arrows for love. The stone she threw far and chased after it. Anyone who desired her love had to win three games from this noble lady without fail. When the noble maiden frequently achieved this, a stately knight heard about it by the Rhine. He began to think about this lovely lady, and as a result, heroes were destined to lose their lives later on.
One day when the king and his vassals sate and pondered to and fro in many a wise, whom their lord might take to wife, who would be fit to be their lady and beseem the land, up spake the lord of the Rhinelands: "I will go down to the sea and hence to Brunhild, however it may go with me. For her love I'll risk my life. I will gladly lose it and she become not my wife."
One day, while the king and his nobles sat around discussing who their lord should marry, someone spoke up. It was the lord of the Rhinelands: "I'm going to the sea and then to Brunhild, no matter what the outcome. For her love, I'll risk my life. I'd gladly give it up if she doesn't become my wife."
"Against that do I counsel you," spake then Siegfried, "if, as ye say, the queen doth have so fierce a wont, he who wooeth for her love will pay full dear. Therefore should ye give over the journey."
"That's my advice to you," Siegfried said, "if, as you say, the queen has such a fierce nature, anyone who seeks her love will pay a high price. So you should give up the journey."
Then spake King Gunther: "Never was woman born so strong and bold that I might not vanquish her with mine own hand."
Then King Gunther said, "There has never been a woman born who's strong and brave enough that I couldn't defeat her myself."
"Be still," spake Siegfried, "ye little know her strength."
"Be quiet," said Siegfried, "you don’t realize her strength."
"So will I advise you," spake Hagen then, "that ye beg Siegfried to share with you this heavy task. This is my rede, sith he doth know so well how matters stand with Brunhild."
"So I advise you," Hagen said then, "to ask Siegfried to help you with this difficult task. This is my advice, since he knows exactly what's going on with Brunhild."
The king spake: "Wilt thou help me, noble Siegfried, to woo this lovely maid? And thou doest what I pray thee and this comely dame become my love, for thy sake will I risk both life and honor."
The king said, "Will you help me, noble Siegfried, to win this beautiful maiden? If you do what I ask and this lovely lady becomes my love, I will risk my life and honor for your sake."
To this Siegfried, the son of Siegmund, answered: "I will do it, and thou give me thy sister Kriemhild, the noble queen. For my pains I ask no other meed."
To this, Siegfried, the son of Siegmund, replied: "I'll do it, and you give me your sister Kriemhild, the noble queen. For my efforts, I ask for nothing else."
"I'll pledge that, Siegfried, in thy hand," spake then Gunther, "and if fair Brunhild come hither to this land, I'll give thee my sister unto wife. Then canst thou live ever merrily with the fair."
"I promise you, Siegfried, that I will give you my hand," said Gunther, "and if the beautiful Brunhild comes here to this land, I will give you my sister to marry. Then you can live happily forever with her."
This the noble warriors swore oaths to do, and so the greater grew their hardships, till they brought the lady to the Rhine. On this account these brave men must later be in passing danger. Siegfried had to take with him hence the cloak which he, the bold hero, had won 'mid dangers from a dwarf, Alberich he hight. These bold and mighty knights now made them ready for the journey. When Siegfried wore the Cloak of Darkness he had strength enow: the force of full twelve men beside his own. With cunning arts he won the royal maid. This cloak was fashioned so, that whatsoever any wrought within it, none saw him. Thus he won Brunhild, which brought him dole.
The noble warriors took oaths to fulfill their duty, and as a result, their challenges increased until they brought the lady to the Rhine. Because of this, these brave men would later face dangers. Siegfried had to bring along the cloak that he, the fearless hero, had obtained from a dwarf named Alberich amid great peril. These strong knights prepared for the journey. When Siegfried wore the Cloak of Darkness, he had the strength of twelve men in addition to his own. With clever tricks, he won the royal maiden. This cloak was made in such a way that whatever anyone did inside it, no one could see them. Thus, he won Brunhild, which eventually brought him trouble.
"Now tell me, good Knight Siegfried, before our trip begin, shall we not take warriors with us into Brunhild's land, that we may come with passing honors to the sea? Thirty thousand men-at-arms can soon be called."
"Now tell me, good Knight Siegfried, before our journey begins, should we not take warriors with us into Brunhild's land, so we can arrive at the sea with great honor? We can quickly gather thirty thousand armed men."
"However many men we take," quoth Siegfried, "the queen doth use so fierce a wont that they must perish through her haughty pride. I'll give thee better counsel, O brave and worthy king. Let us fare as wandering knights adown the Rhine, and I will tell thee those that shall be of the band. In all four knights, we'll journey to the sea and thus we'll woo the lady, whatever be our fate thereafter. I shall be one of the four comrades, the second thou shalt be. Let Hagen be the third (then have we hope of life), Dankwart then the fourth, the valiant man. A thousand others durst not match us in the fight."
"Regardless of how many men we bring," Siegfried said, "the queen behaves so fiercely that they are bound to suffer due to her arrogant pride. I’ll give you better advice, O brave and worthy king. Let’s travel as wandering knights along the Rhine, and I will suggest who should be in our group. Together, the four of us will journey to the sea and try to win the lady, no matter what happens afterward. I’ll be one of the four comrades, and you will be the second. Let Hagen be the third (that gives us hope for survival), and Dankwart will be the fourth, the brave man. A thousand others wouldn’t dare match us in battle."
"Gladly would I know," spake then the king, "ere we go hence ('t would please me much), what garments we should wear before Brunhild, which would beseem us there. Pray tell this now to Gunther."
"Sure I'd like to know," said the king, "before we leave (it would please me a lot), what clothes we should wear in front of Brunhild that would be appropriate for us. Please tell this to Gunther now."
"Weeds of the very best which can be found are worn all times in Brunhild's land. We must wear rich clothes before the lady, that we feel no shame when men shall hear the tidings told."
"Weeds of the very best that can be found are worn at all times in Brunhild's land. We must wear fine clothes before the lady, so we feel no shame when the news is shared with the men."
The good knight spake: "Then will I go myself to my dear mother, if perchance I can bring it to pass that her fair maids purvey us garments which we may wear with honor before the high-born maid."
The good knight said, "Then I will go myself to my dear mother, if I can persuade her lovely maids to bring us garments that we can wear with honor in front of the noble lady."
Hagen of Troneg spake then in lordly wise: "Wherefore will ye pray your mother of such service? Let your sister hear what ye have in mind, and she'll purvey you well for your journey to Brunhild's court."
Hagen of Troneg then spoke in a noble manner: "Why will you ask your mother for such assistance? Let your sister know what you’re planning, and she’ll prepare you well for your trip to Brunhild's court."
Then sent he word to his sister, that he would fain see her, and Knight Siegfried, too, sent word. Ere this happed the fair had clad her passing well. That these brave men were coming, gave her little grief. Now were her attendants, too, arrayed in seemly wise. The lordings came, and when she heard the tale, from her seat she rose and walked in courtly wise to greet the noble stranger and her brother, too.
Then he sent a message to his sister, saying that he would really like to see her, and Knight Siegfried sent word as well. Before this happened, the lady had dressed very elegantly. The news that these brave men were coming didn't upset her much. Now her attendants were also dressed appropriately. The gentlemen arrived, and when she heard the news, she got up from her seat and walked gracefully to greet the noble stranger and her brother.
"Welcome be my brother and his comrade. I'd gladly know," so spake the maid, "what ye lords desire, sith ye be thus come to court. Pray let me hear how it standeth with you noble knights."
"Welcome, my brother and his friend. I would love to know," the maid said, "what you gentlemen want, since you have come to court. Please tell me how you noble knights are doing."
Then spake king Gunther: "My lady, I'll tell you now. Maugre our lofty mood, yet have we mickle care. We would ride a-wooing far into foreign lands, and for this journey we have need of costly robes."
Then spoke King Gunther: "My lady, let me tell you something. Despite our high spirits, we still have significant concerns. We want to ride out wooing in distant lands, and for this journey, we need expensive clothing."
"Now sit you down, dear brother," spake the royal maid, "and let me hear aright who these ladies be whom ye fain would woo in the lands of other kings."
"Now sit down, dear brother," the royal maid said, "and let me hear clearly who these ladies are that you want to impress in the lands of other kings."
By the hand the lady took the chosen knights and with the twain she walked to where she sate afore upon a couch, worked, as well I wot, with dainty figures embossed in gold. There might they have fair pastime with the ladies. Friendly glances and kindly looks passed now full oft between the twain. In his heart he bare her, she was dear to him as life. In after days fair Kriemhild became strong Siegfried's wife.
By the hand, the lady took the chosen knights and with the two of them, she walked to where she had previously sat on a couch, beautifully crafted with delicate golden designs. There they could enjoy pleasant time with the ladies. Friendly glances and warm looks were exchanged often between the two. In his heart, he cherished her; she was as dear to him as life itself. In later days, fair Kriemhild became the wife of strong Siegfried.
Then spake the mighty king: "Dear sister mine, without thy help it may not be. We would go for knightly pastime to Brunhild's land, and have need of princely garb to wear before the dames."
Then spoke the mighty king: "Dear sister, I can't do this without your help. We want to go for some knightly fun to Brunhild's land, and we need some royal outfits to wear in front of the ladies."
Then the noble maiden answered: "Dear brother mine, I do you now to wit, that whatever need ye have of help of mine, that stand I ready to give. Should any deny you aught, 't would please Kriemhild but ill. Most noble knights, beseech me not with such concern, but order me with lordly air to do whatso ye list. I stand at your bidding and will do it with a will." So spake the winsome maid.
Then the noble woman replied, "Dear brother, I want you to know that whatever help you need from me, I'm ready to give. If anyone denies you anything, it would upset Kriemhild. Most honorable knights, please don’t worry about me, but command me with your noble authority to do whatever you wish. I'm here to serve you and will do so wholeheartedly." So spoke the charming maiden.
"We would fain, dear sister, wear good attire, and this your noble hand shall help to choose. Your maidens then must make it fit us, for there be no help against this journey." Then spake the princess: "Now mark ye what I say. Silks I have myself; see ye that men do bring us jewels upon the shields and thus we'll work the clothes. Gunther and Siegfried, too, gave glad assent.
"We would love, dear sister, to wear nice clothes, and your noble hand shall help us choose. Your maids will need to make them fit us since there's no turning back from this journey." Then the princess spoke: "Now listen to what I say. I have silks myself; make sure the men bring us jewels for the shields, and we'll use those to create the outfits.” Gunther and Siegfried agreed happily too.
"Who are the comrades," spake the queen, "who shall fare with you thus clad to court?"
"Who are the friends," said the queen, "who will accompany you dressed like that to court?"
He spake: "I shall be one of four. My liegemen twain, Dankwart and Hagen, shall go with me to court. Now mark ye well, my lady, what I say. Each of us four must have to wear for four whole days three changes of apparel and such goodly trappings that without shame we may quit Brunhild's land."
He said, "I will be one of four. My two loyal men, Dankwart and Hagen, will accompany me to court. Now pay attention, my lady, to what I’m saying. Each of us four must have three sets of clothes and nice decorations to wear for four straight days, so we can leave Brunhild's land with no shame."
In fitting wise the lords took leave and parted hence. Kriemhild, the queen, bade thirty of her maidens who were skillful in such work, come forth from out their bowers. Silks of Araby, white as snow, and the fair silk of Zazamanc, (2) green as is the clover, they overlaid with precious stones; that gave garments passing fair. Kriemhild herself, the high-born maiden, cut them out. Whatso they had at hand of well-wrought linings from the skin of foreign fish, but rarely seen of folk, they covered now with silk, as was the wont to wear. (3) Now hear great marvels of these shining weeds. From the kingdom of Morocco and from Libya, too, they had great store of the fairest silks which the kith of any king did ever win. Kriemhild made it well appear what love she bore the twain. Sith upon the proud journey they had set their minds, they deemed ermine to be well fit. (4) Upon this lay fine silk as black as coal. This would still beseem all doughty knights at high festal tides. From out a setting of Arabian gold there shone forth many a stone. The ladies' zeal, it was not small, forsooth; in seven weeks they wrought the robes. Ready, too, were the weapons for the right good knights.
When the lords took their leave and parted ways, Queen Kriemhild called forth thirty of her maidens skilled in such tasks from their chambers. They adorned silks from Arabia, as white as snow, and fine silk from Zazamanc, as green as clover, with precious stones, creating stunning garments. Kriemhild herself, the noble maiden, cut the fabrics. They used whatever well-crafted linings they had from the skin of rare foreign fish, covering them with silk, as was the custom. Now, listen to the wonderful details about these shining garments. They had a large supply of the finest silks from the kingdom of Morocco and Libya, treasures won by the kin of any king. Kriemhild made it clear how much love she had for the two. Since they had set their minds on a proud journey, they thought ermine would be fitting. On top of that lay fine silk as black as coal. This would be suitable for all brave knights at grand celebrations. From a setting of Arabian gold, many stones sparkled. The ladies worked diligently, and it took them seven weeks to create the robes. The weapons for the noble knights were also ready.
When now they all stood dight, (5) there was built for them in haste upon the Rhine a sturdy little skiff, that should bear them downward to the sea. Weary were the noble maids from all their cares. Then the warriors were told that the brave vestures they should wear were now prepared; as they had craved it, so it now was done. Then no longer would they tarry on the Rhine; they sent a message to their war-companions, if perchance they should care to view their new attire, to see if it be too long or short. All was found in fitting measure, and for this they gave the ladies thanks. All who saw them could not but aver that never in the world had they seen attire more fair. Therefore they wore it gladly at the court. None wist how to tell of better knightly weeds. Nor did they fail to give great thanks. Then the lusty knights craved leave to go, and this the lordings did in courtly wise. Bright eyes grew dim and moist thereat from weeping.
When they were all ready, a sturdy little boat was quickly built for them on the Rhine, meant to take them down to the sea. The noble ladies were exhausted from their worries. Then the warriors were informed that the brave outfits they had requested were now ready; just as they had asked, it was done. They would no longer linger on the Rhine; they sent a message to their fellow warriors to see if they wanted to check out their new outfits and see if they fit properly. Everything was found to be in the right size, and they thanked the ladies for it. Anyone who saw them couldn’t help but agree that they had never seen such beautiful clothing. So, they wore it happily at court. No one knew how to describe better knightly attire. They also made sure to express their gratitude. Then the eager knights asked for permission to leave, and the lords did so in a courteous manner. Bright eyes became dim and moist from tears at that moment.
Kriemhild spake: "Dear brother, ye might better tarry here a while and pay court to other dames, where ye would not so risk your life; then would I say well done. Ye might find nearer home a wife of as high a birth."
Kriemhild said, "Dear brother, you might want to stay here for a bit and pursue other ladies, where you wouldn’t risk your life as much; then I would applaud you. You could find a wife of equal status closer to home."
I ween their hearts did tell them what would hap. All wept alike, no matter what men said. The gold upon their breasts was tarnished by their tears, which thick and fast coursed downward from their eyes.
I think their hearts told them what would happen. Everyone cried, regardless of what people said. The gold on their chests was stained by their tears, which flowed thick and fast down from their eyes.
She spake: "Sir Siegfried, let this dear brother of mine be commended to your fealty and troth, that naught may harm him in Brunhild's land." This the full brave knight vowed in Lady Kriemhild's hand.
She said, "Sir Siegfried, please promise to protect my dear brother and ensure that nothing harms him in Brunhild's territory." The brave knight swore this while holding Lady Kriemhild's hand.
The mighty warrior spake: "If I lose not my life, ye may be free from every care, my lady. I'll bring him to you sound again hither to the Rhine; that know of a surety." The fair maid bowed her thanks.
The mighty warrior said, "As long as I don’t lose my life, you can be free from every worry, my lady. I’ll bring him back to you safe here to the Rhine; you can be sure of that." The beautiful maid bowed her thanks.
Men bare their gold-hued shields out to them upon the sands and brought them all their harness. One bade lead up the steeds, for they would ride away. Much weeping then was done by comely dames. The winsome maids stood at the easements. A high wind stirred the ship and sails; the proud war fellowship embarked upon the Rhine.
Men displayed their golden shields on the sands and brought all their gear. One ordered to bring up the horses, as they were about to ride away. Many beautiful women cried then. The charming young women stood at the windows. A strong wind stirred the ship and sails; the proud warrior group boarded the Rhine.
Then spake King Gunther: "Who shall be the captain of the ship?"
Then King Gunther said, "Who will be the captain of the ship?"
"That will I," quoth Siegfried, "I wot well how to steer you on the flood. That know, good knights, the right water ways be well known to me."
"Sure, I can do that," Siegfried said, "I know exactly how to guide you on the river. Trust me, good knights, I'm very familiar with the proper waterways."
So they parted merrily from out the Burgundian land. Siegfried quickly grasped an oar and from the shore the stalwart man gan push. Bold Gunther took the helm himself, and thus the worshipful and speedy knights set forth from land. With them they took rich food and eke good wine, the best that could be found along the Rhine. Their steeds stood fair; they had good easement. Their ship rode well; scant harm did hap them. Their stout sheet-rope was tightened by the breeze. Twenty leagues they sailed, or ever came the night, with a good wind, downward toward the sea. These hard toils later brought the high-mettled warriors pain.
So they happily left the Burgundian land. Siegfried quickly grabbed an oar and pushed off from the shore. Bold Gunther took the helm himself, and so the honorable and swift knights set off from the land. They brought along plenty of rich food and good wine, the best that could be found along the Rhine. Their horses looked good; they had comfortable accommodations. Their ship sailed smoothly; they faced little trouble. The sturdy sail was filled by the breeze. They sailed twenty leagues before nightfall, with a good wind, heading down toward the sea. These tough journeys later caused the proud warriors pain.
Upon the twelfth-day morning, as we hear say, the winds had borne them far away to Isenstein in Brunhild's land. To none save Siegfried was this known; but when King Gunther spied so many castles and broad marches, too, how soon he spake: "Pray tell me, friend Siegfried, is it known to you whose are these castles and this lordly land?"
Upon the morning of the twelfth day, as we've heard, the winds had carried them far away to Isenstein in Brunhild's land. Only Siegfried knew this; but when King Gunther saw so many castles and vast territories, he quickly said, "Please tell me, friend Siegfried, do you know whose castles and this noble land belong to?"
Siegfried answered: "I know it well. It is the land and folk of Brunhild and the fortress Isenstein, as ye heard me say. Fair ladies ye may still see there to-day. Methinketh good to advise you heroes that ye be of one single mind, and that ye tell the selfsame tale. For if we go to-day before Brunhild, in much jeopardy must we stand before the queen. When we behold the lovely maiden with her train, then, ye far-famed heroes, must ye tell but this single tale: that Gunther be my master and I his man; then what he craveth will come to pass." Full ready they were for whatever he bade them vow, nor because of pride did any one abstain. They promised what he would; wherefrom they all fared well, when King Gunther saw fair Brunhild. (6)
Siegfried replied, "I know it well. It’s the land and people of Brunhild and the fortress Isenstein, as you heard me say. You can still see beautiful ladies there today. I think it’s wise to advise you, heroes, to be united and tell the same story. If we go to Brunhild today, we will be in great danger before the queen. When we see the lovely maiden and her entourage, you, renowned heroes, must tell just this one story: that Gunther is my master and I am his servant; then whatever he desires will happen." They were all ready to vow whatever he asked, and no one held back out of pride. They promised what he wanted; from that, they all fared well when King Gunther saw beautiful Brunhild. (6)
"Forsooth I vow it less for thy sake than for thy sister's, the comely maid, who is to me as mine own soul and body. Gladly will I bring it to pass, that she become my wife."
"I truly promise it’s more for your sister's sake than yours, the lovely young woman, who means as much to me as my own soul and body. I will gladly make it happen that she becomes my wife."
ENDNOTES: (1) "Isenland" translates here M.H.G. "Islant", which has, however, no connection with Iceland in spite of the agreement of the names in German. "Isen lant", the reading of the MSS. BJh, has been chosen, partly to avoid confusion, and partly to indicate its probable derivation from "Isenstein", the name of Brunhild's castle. Boer's interpretation of "Isen" as 'ice' finds corroboration in Otfrid's form "isine steina" ('ice stones', i.e. crystals) I, 1. 70. Isenstein would then mean Ice Castle. In the "Thidreksaga" Brunhild's castle is called "Saegarthr" ('Sea Garden'), and in a fairy tale (No. 93 of Grimm) "Stromberg", referring to the fact that it was surrounded by the sea. Here, too, in our poem it stands directly on the shore. (2) "Zazamanc", a fictitious kingdom mentioned only here and a few times in Parzival, Wolfram probably having obtained the name from this passage. (See Bartsch, "Germanistische Studien", ii, 129.) (3) "Wont to wear". In the Middle Ages costly furs and fish-skins were used as linings and covered, as here described, with silk or cloth. By fish such amphibious animals as otter and beaver were often meant. (4) "Well fit". In this passage "wert", the reading of A and D, has been followed, instead of unwert of B and C, as it seems more appropriate to the sense. (5) "Dight", 'arrayed'; used by Milton. (6) "Brunhild". The following words are evidently a late interpolation, and weaken the ending, but have been translated for the sake of completeness. They are spoken by Siegfried.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Isenland" translates here M.H.G. "Islant", which has, however, no connection with Iceland despite the similarity of the names in German. "Isen lant", the reading of the MSS. BJh, has been chosen partly to avoid confusion and partly to indicate its likely origin from "Isenstein", the name of Brunhild's castle. Boer's interpretation of "Isen" as 'ice' is supported by Otfrid's form "isine steina" ('ice stones', i.e., crystals) I, 1. 70. Isenstein would then mean Ice Castle. In the "Thidreksaga" Brunhild's castle is called "Saegarthr" ('Sea Garden'), and in a fairy tale (No. 93 of Grimm) "Stromberg", indicating that it was surrounded by the sea. Here, too, in our poem it stands directly on the shore. (2) "Zazamanc", a fictional kingdom mentioned only here and a few times in Parzival, which Wolfram likely derived from this passage. (See Bartsch, "Germanistische Studien", ii, 129.) (3) "Wont to wear". In the Middle Ages, expensive furs and fish skins were used as linings and were covered, as described here, with silk or cloth. By fish, such amphibious animals as otters and beavers were often meant. (4) "Well fit". In this passage "wert", the reading of A and D, has been followed instead of unwert of B and C, as it seems more appropriate to the meaning. (5) "Dight", 'arrayed'; used by Milton. (6) "Brunhild". The following words are clearly a later addition and weaken the ending, but have been translated for the sake of completeness. They are spoken by Siegfried.
ADVENTURE VII. How Gunther Won Brunhild.
Meanwhile their bark had come so near the castle that the king saw many a comely maiden standing at the casements. Much it irked King Gunther that he knew them not. He asked his comrade Siegfried: "Hast thou no knowledge of these maidens, who yonder are gazing downward towards us on the flood? Whoever be their lord, they are of lofty mood."
Meanwhile, their boat had come so close to the castle that the king saw several beautiful maidens standing at the windows. King Gunther felt quite annoyed that he didn’t recognize them. He asked his companion Siegfried, "Do you know who these maidens are, who are looking down at us from the river? Whoever their lord is, they seem to be of noble character."
At this Sir Siegfried spake: "I pray you, spy secretly among the high-born maids and tell me then whom ye would choose, and ye had the power."
At this point, Sir Siegfried said, "I ask you to secretly observe the noble ladies and tell me who you would choose if you had the chance."
"That will I," spake Gunther, the bold and valiant knight. "In yonder window do I see one stand in snow-white weeds. She is fashioned so fair that mine eyes would choose her for her comeliness. Had I power, she should become my wife."
"That I will," said Gunther, the brave and noble knight. "In that window, I see someone standing in a pure white dress. She is so beautiful that my eyes would pick her for her looks. If I had the power, she would be my wife."
"Right well thine eyes have chosen for thee. It is the noble Brunhild, the comely maid, for whom thy heart doth strive and eke thy mind and mood." All her bearing seemed to Gunther good.
"You're right; your eyes have chosen well for you. It's the noble Brunhild, the lovely maiden, for whom your heart strives, along with your mind and mood." Everything about her seemed good to Gunther.
When bade the queen her high-born maids go from the windows, for it behooved them not to be the mark of strangers' eyes. Each one obeyed. What next the ladies did, hath been told us since. They decked their persons out to meet the unknown knights, a way fair maids have ever had. To the narrow casements they came again, where they had seen the knights. Through love of gazing this was done.
When the queen ordered her noble ladies to leave the windows, so they wouldn’t be the target of strangers' gazes, each one complied. What the ladies did next has been shared with us since. They dressed themselves up to encounter the unknown knights, something pretty girls have always done. They returned to the narrow windows where they had spotted the knights. They did this out of a desire to look.
But four there were that were come to land. Through the windows the stately women saw how Siegfried led a horse out on the sand, whereby King Gunther felt himself much honored. By the bridle he held the steed, so stately, good and fair, and large and strong, until King Gunther had sat him in the saddle. Thus Siegfried served him, the which he later quite forgot. Such service he had seldom done afore, that he should stand at any here's stirrup. Then he led his own steed from the ship. All this the comely dames of noble birth saw through the casements. The steeds and garments, too, of the lusty knights, of snow-white hue, were right well matched and all alike; the bucklers, fashioned well, gleamed in the hands of the stately men. In lordly wise they rode to Brunhild's hall, their saddles set with precious stones, with narrow martingales, from which hung bells of bright and ruddy gold. So they came to the land, as well befit their prowess, with newly sharpened spears, with well-wrought swords, the which hung down to the spurs of these stately men. The swords the bold men bore were sharp and broad. All this Brunhild, the high-born maid, espied.
But there were four who had come ashore. Through the windows, the elegant women saw how Siegfried brought a horse out onto the sand, which made King Gunther feel very honored. He held the reins of the noble, beautiful, large, and strong steed until King Gunther was settled in the saddle. This was how Siegfried served him, a gesture he later completely forgot. He had rarely done such service before, standing by anyone's stirrup. Then he took his own horse from the ship. All of this was observed by the lovely noblewomen through the windows. The horses and the outfits of the strong knights, all pure white, were perfectly matched and identical; the well-crafted shields shone in the hands of the distinguished men. They rode majestically to Brunhild's hall, their saddles adorned with precious stones and narrow martingales, from which hung bright, shiny gold bells. They arrived on land, fitting for their skill, with freshly sharpened spears and well-made swords that reached down to the spurs of these noble men. The swords carried by the brave men were sharp and wide. All of this was seen by Brunhild, the high-born lady.
With the king came Dankwart and Hagen, too. We have heard tales told of how the knights wore costly raiment, raven black of hue. Fair were their bucklers, mickle, good and broad. Jewels they wore from the land of India, the which gleamed gloriously upon their weeds. By the flood they left their skiff without a guard. Thus the brave knights and good rode to the castle. Six and eighty towers they saw within, three broad palaces, (1) and one hall well wrought of costly marble, green as grass, wherein Brunhild herself sate with her courtiers. The castle was unlocked and the gates flung wide. Then ran Brunhild's men to meet them and welcomed the strangers into their mistress' land. One bade relieve them of their steeds and shields.
With the king came Dankwart and Hagen as well. We've heard stories about how the knights wore expensive outfits, deep black in color. Their shields were beautiful, really big and wide. They wore jewels from India that sparkled brilliantly on their clothing. By the river, they left their boat unguarded. So, the brave knights rode to the castle. They saw eighty-six towers inside, three wide palaces, and one hall beautifully made of expensive green marble, where Brunhild herself sat with her courtiers. The castle was unlocked and the gates opened wide. Then Brunhild's men ran to greet them and welcomed the newcomers into their mistress's territory. One offered to take care of their horses and shields.
Then spake a chamberlain: "Pray give us now your swords and your shining breastplates, too."
Then a chamberlain said, "Please give us your swords and your shiny breastplates as well."
"That we may not grant you," said Hagen of Troneg; "we ourselves will bear them."
"That we can't agree to," said Hagen of Troneg; "we'll take them on ourselves."
Then gan Siegfried tell aright the tale. "The usage of the castle, let me say, is such that no guests may here bear arms. Let them now be taken hence, then will all be well."
Then Siegfried began to tell the story properly. "The rule of the castle is that no guests may carry weapons here. If they are taken away, everything will be fine."
Unwillingly Hagen, Gunther's man, obeyed. For the strangers men bade pour out wine and make their lodgings ready. Many doughty knights were seen walking everywhere at court in lordly weeds. Mickle and oft were these heroes gazed upon.
Unwillingly, Hagen, Gunther's man, complied. The strangers' men ordered them to fill cups with wine and prepare their accommodations. Many brave knights could be seen wandering around the court in their fine attire. These heroes were often and widely admired.
Then the tidings were told to Lady Brunhild, that unknown warriors were come in lordly raiment, sailing on the flood. The fair and worthy maid gan ask concerning this. "Pray let me hear," spake the queen, "who be these unknown knights, who stand so lordly in my castle, and for whose sake the heroes have journeyed hither?"
Then the news was brought to Lady Brunhild that unknown warriors had arrived in noble attire, sailing on the river. The beautiful and noble maiden began to inquire about this. "Please let me know," said the queen, "who these unknown knights are, who stand so majestically in my castle, and why the heroes have traveled all this way?"
Then spake one of the courtiers: "My lady, I can well say that never have I set eyes on any of them, but one like Siegfried doth stand among them. Him ye should give fair greetings; that is my rede, in truth. The second of their fellowship is so worthy of praise that he were easily a mighty king over broad and princely lands, and he had the power and might possess them. One doth see him stand by the rest in such right lordly wise. The third of the fellowship is so fierce and yet withal so fair of body, most noble queen. By the fierce glances he so oft doth east, I ween he be grim of thought and mood. The youngest among them is worshipful indeed. I see the noble knight stand so charmingly, with courtly bearing, in almost maiden modesty. We might all have cause for fear, had any done him aught. However blithely he doth practice chivalry, and howso fair of body he be, yet might he well make many a comely woman weep, should he e'er grow angry. He is so fashioned that in all knightly virtues he must be a bold knight and a brave."
Then one of the courtiers said, "My lady, I can honestly say that I've never seen any of them before, but one like Siegfried stands among them. You should greet him warmly; that's my advice, for real. The second member of their group is so deserving of praise that he could easily be a powerful king ruling over vast and noble lands if he had the strength to claim them. You can see him standing with the others in a very noble way. The third member of the group is fierce yet remarkably handsome, most noble queen. By the fierce glances he often casts, I believe he has a serious and intense demeanor. The youngest among them is truly admirable. I see the noble knight standing so charmingly, with a refined presence, almost with maidenly modesty. We might all have cause for concern if anyone did him wrong. However cheerfully he practices chivalry, and no matter how handsome he is, he could easily make many a lovely woman cry if he ever became angry. He is shaped in such a way that in all knightly virtues, he must be a bold and brave knight."
Then spake the queen: "Now bring me my attire. If the mighty Siegfried be come unto this land through love of mine, he doth risk his life. I fear him not so sore, that I should become his wife."
Then the queen said, "Now bring me my outfit. If the great Siegfried has come to this land out of love for me, he's putting his life at risk. I'm not so afraid of him that I would marry him."
Brunhild, the fair, was soon well clad. Then went there with her many a comely maid, full hundred or more, decked out in gay attire. The stately dames would gaze upon the strangers. With them there walked good knights from Isenland, Brunhild's men-at-arms, five hundred or more, who bore swords in hand. This the strangers rued. From their seats then the brave and lusty heroes rose. When that the queen spied Siegfried, now hear what the maid did speak.
Brunhild, the beautiful, was soon dressed elegantly. Then, along with her, came many lovely maids, a hundred or more, all dressed in bright clothing. The noble ladies looked at the newcomers. With them were brave knights from Isenland, Brunhild's warriors, five hundred or more, armed with swords. The strangers regretted this. The courageous and spirited heroes rose from their seats. When the queen saw Siegfried, here’s what the maiden said.
"Be ye welcome, Siegfried, here in this our land! What doth your journey mean? That I fain would know."
"Welcome, Siegfried, to our land! What brings you here? I’d really like to know."
"Gramercy, my Lady Brunhild, that ye have deigned to greet me, most generous queen, in the presence of this noble knight who standeth here before me, for he is my liege lord. This honor I must needs forswear. By birth he's from the Rhine; what more need I to say? For thy sake are we come hither. Fain would he woo thee, however he fare. Methink thee now betimes, my lord will not let thee go. He is hight Gunther and is a lordly king. An' he win thy love, he doth crave naught more. Forsooth this knight, so well beseen, did bid me journey hither. I would fain have given it over, could I have said him nay."
"Thank you, my Lady Brunhild, for taking the time to greet me, most generous queen, in front of this noble knight who stands here before me, as he is my liege lord. I must refuse this honor. By birth, he is from the Rhine; what more is there to say? We have come here for your sake. He would be eager to win you over, no matter what happens. I believe that my lord will not let you go easily. His name is Gunther, and he is a noble king. If he wins your love, he desires nothing more. Truly, this well-regarded knight asked me to come here. I would have gladly turned it down if I could have said no to him."
She spake: "Is he thy liege and thou his man, dare he assay the games which I mete out and gain the mastery, then I'll become his wife; but should I win, 't will cost you all your lives."
She said, "If he's your lord and you're his servant, if he dares to try the challenges I set and wins, then I'll marry him; but if I win, it will cost you all your lives."
Then up spake Hagen of Troneg: "My lady, let us see your mighty games. It must indeed go hard, or ever Gunther, my lord, give you the palm. He troweth well to win so fair a maid."
Then Hagen of Troneg spoke up: "My lady, let's see your impressive games. It must be tough, or else Gunther, my lord, will give you the prize. He truly believes he can win such a beautiful maiden."
"He must hurl the stone and after spring and cast the spear with me. Be ye not too hasty. Ye are like to lose here your honor and your life as well. Bethink you therefore rightly," spake the lovely maid.
"He must throw the stone and then spring and throw the spear with me. Don’t be too quick. You might lose your honor and your life here. So think carefully," said the beautiful girl.
Siegfried, the bold, went to the king and bade him tell the queen all that he had in mind, he should have no fear. "I'll guard you well against her with my arts."
Siegfried, the brave, went to the king and asked him to tell the queen everything he was thinking, assuring him that he shouldn't be afraid. "I'll protect you from her with my skills."
Then spake King Gunther: "Most noble queen, now mete out whatso ye list, and were it more, that would I all endure for your sweet sake. I'll gladly lose my head, and ye become not my wife."
Then King Gunther said, "Most noble queen, now decide whatever you want, and even if it’s more, I would endure it all for your sweet sake. I would gladly lose my head if you do not become my wife."
When the queen heard this speech, she begged them hasten to the games, as was but meet. She bade purvey her with good armor for the strife: a breastplate of ruddy gold and a right good shield. A silken surcoat, (2) too, the maid put on, which sword had never cut in any fray, of silken cloth of Libya. Well was it wrought. Bright embroidered edging was seen to shine thereon.
When the queen heard this speech, she urged them to hurry to the games, as was fitting. She asked to be provided with good armor for the battle: a breastplate of shining gold and a solid shield. The maiden also put on a silk surcoat, which had never been cut by any sword in battle, made from fine Libyan cloth. It was well made, and the bright embroidered edges could be seen glimmering on it.
Meanwhile the knights were threatened much with battle cries. Dankwart and Hagen stood ill at ease; their minds were troubled at the thought of how the king would speed. Thought they: "Our journey will not bring us warriors aught of good."
Meanwhile, the knights were heavily threatened by battle cries. Dankwart and Hagen felt uneasy; they were worried about how the king would fare. They thought, "This journey won't bring us warriors any good."
Meanwhile Siegfried, the stately man, or ever any marked it, had hied him to the ship, where he found his magic cloak concealed. Into it he quickly slipped and so was seen of none. He hurried back and there he found a great press of knights, where the queen dealt out her lofty games. Thither he went in secret wise (by his arts it happed), nor was he seen of any that were there. The ring had been marked out, where the games should be, afore many valiant warriors, who were to view them there. More than seven hundred were seen bearing arms, who were to say who won the game.
Meanwhile, Siegfried, the dignified man, had made his way to the ship, where he found his magic cloak hidden. He quickly put it on and became invisible. He hurried back and found a large gathering of knights, where the queen was hosting her grand contests. He made his way there secretly (thanks to his powers), and nobody noticed him. The circle for the games had been set up in front of many brave warriors, who were there to watch. More than seven hundred armed men were present to declare who won the contest.
Then was come Brunhild, armed as though she would battle for all royal lands. Above her silken coat she wore many a bar of gold; gloriously her lovely color shone beneath the armor. Then came her courtiers, who bare along a shield of ruddy gold with large broad strips as hard as steel, beneath the which the lovely maid would fight. As shield-thong there served a costly band upon which lay jewels green as grass. It shone and gleamed against the gold. He must needs be passing bold, to whom the maid would show her love. The shield the maid should bear was three spans thick beneath the studs, as we are told. Rich enow it was, of steel and eke of gold, the which four chamberlains could scarcely carry.
Then came Brunhild, dressed as if she were ready to fight for all royal lands. Over her silken coat, she wore numerous gold bars; her beautiful complexion gleamed under the armor. Next came her attendants, who carried a shield of reddish gold with broad strips as tough as steel, under which the lovely woman would battle. The shield's strap was a luxurious band adorned with jewels as green as grass. It sparkled and shone against the gold. Only someone exceptionally brave would earn her affection. The shield that the maiden was to carry was three spans thick beneath the studs, as we've been told. It was rich enough, made of steel and gold, that four attendants could hardly lift it.
When the stalwart Hagen saw the shield borne forth, the knight of Troneg spake full grim of mood: "How now, King Gunther? How we shall lose our lives! She you would make your love is the devil's bride, in truth."
When the strong Hagen saw the shield being brought out, the knight from Troneg spoke very grimly: "What now, King Gunther? We’re going to lose our lives! The woman you want to love is really the devil's bride."
Hear now about her weeds; enow of these she had; she wore a surcoat of silk of Azagouc, (3) noble and costly. Many a lordly stone shone in contrast to its color on the person of the queen.
Hear now about her garments; she had plenty of these; she wore a silk surcoat from Azagouc, noble and expensive. Many a precious stone sparkled against its color on the queen's person.
Then was brought forth for the lady a spear, sharp, heavy, and large, the which she cast all time, stout and unwieldy, mickle and broad, which on its edges cut most fearfully. Of the spear's great weight hear wonders told. Three and one half weights (4) of iron were wrought therein, the which scarce three of Brunhild's men could bear. The noble Gunther gan be sore afraid. Within his heart he thought: "What doth this mean? How could the devil from hell himself escape alive? Were I safe and sound in Burgundy, long might she live here free of any love of mine."
Then a sharp, heavy, and large spear was brought to the lady, which she threw effortlessly, despite its stout and unwieldy design, being quite broad with edges that cut fearfully. There are many stories about the spear's great weight. It contained three and a half weights (4) of iron, which barely three of Brunhild's men could lift. The noble Gunther felt greatly afraid. In his heart, he thought: "What does this mean? How could the devil from hell himself escape alive? If I were safe and sound back in Burgundy, she could live here free of any feelings for me."
Then spake Hagen's brother, the valiant Dankwart: "The journey to this court doth rue me sore. We who have ever borne the name of knights, how must we lose our lives! Shall we now perish at the hands of women in these lands? It doth irk me much, that ever I came unto this country. Had but my brother Hagen his sword in hand, and I mine, too, then should Brunhild's men go softly in their overweening pride. This know for sure, they'd guard against it well. And had I sworn a peace with a thousand oaths, before I'd see my dear lord die, the comely maid herself should lose her life."
Then spoke Hagen's brother, the brave Dankwart: "This trip to this court is really getting to me. We who have always carried the title of knights, how can we lose our lives like this? Are we really going to die at the hands of women in this land? It annoys me greatly that I ever came to this country. If my brother Hagen had his sword in hand, and I had mine too, then Brunhild's men would think twice about their arrogance. Trust me, they would take it seriously. And even if I had sworn a thousand oaths of peace, I wouldn't let my dear lord die; that beautiful maid would lose her life instead."
"We might leave this land unscathed," spake then his brother Hagen, "had we the harness which we sorely need and our good swords as well; then would the pride of this strong dame become a deal more soft."
"We could leave this land unharmed," his brother Hagen said, "if we had the gear we urgently need and our good swords too; then the pride of this strong lady would become much softer."
What the warrior spake the noble maid heard well. Over her shoulders she gazed with smiling mouth. "Now sith he thinketh himself so brave, bring them forth their coats-of-mail; put in the warriors' hands their sharp-edged swords."
What the warrior said, the noble maiden heard clearly. She looked over her shoulders with a smile. "Now that he thinks he’s so brave, bring out their mail coats; hand the warriors their sharp swords."
When they received their weapons as the maiden bade, bold Dankwart blushed for very joy. "Now let them play whatso they list," spake the doughty man. "Gunther is unconquered, since now we have our arms."
When they got their weapons as the maiden instructed, brave Dankwart blushed with joy. "Now let them do whatever they want," said the tough man. "Gunther is unbeatable now that we have our arms."
Mightily now did Brunhild's strength appear. Into the ring men bare a heavy stone, huge and great, mickle and round. Twelve brave and valiant men-at-arms could scarcely bear it. This she threw at all times, when she had shot the spear. The Burgundians' fear now grew amain.
Mighty was Brunhild's strength. Into the arena, they brought a heavy stone, big and round. Twelve brave warriors could hardly lift it. This was what she tossed every time after throwing her spear. This made the Burgundians' fear grow immensely.
"Woe is me," cried Hagen. "Whom hath King Gunther chosen for a love? Certes she should be the foul fiend's bride in hell."
"Woe is me," cried Hagen. "Who has King Gunther chosen for love? Surely she must be the devil's bride in hell."
Upon her fair white arm the maid turned back her sleeves; with her hands she grasped the shield and poised the spear on high. Thus the strife began. Gunther and Siegfried feared Brunhild's hate, and had Siegfried not come to Gunther's aid, she would have bereft the king of life. Secretly Siegfried went and touched his hand; with great fear Gunther marked his wiles. "Who hath touched me?" thought the valiant man. Then he gazed around on every side, but saw none standing there.
Upon her fair white arm, the maid rolled up her sleeves; with her hands, she grabbed the shield and raised the spear high. Thus, the conflict began. Gunther and Siegfried were afraid of Brunhild's wrath, and if Siegfried hadn't come to Gunther's aid, she would have taken the king's life. Secretly, Siegfried approached and touched his hand; Gunther sensed his trickery with great unease. "Who has touched me?" thought the brave man. Then he looked around in every direction, but saw no one nearby.
"'Tis I, Siegfried, the dear friend of thine. Thou must not fear the queen. Give me the shield from off thy hand and let me bear it and mark aright what thou dost hear me say. Make thou the motions, I will do the deeds."
"'It's me, Siegfried, your dear friend. You shouldn't be afraid of the queen. Give me the shield from your hand and let me carry it, and pay attention to what I'm about to say. You make the moves, and I will take care of the actions."
When Gunther knew that it was Siegfried, he was overjoyed.
When Gunther realized it was Siegfried, he was filled with joy.
Quoth Siegfried: "Now hide thou my arts; tell them not to any man; then can the queen win from thee little fame, albeit she doth desire it. See how fearlessly the lady standeth now before thee."
Quoth Siegfried: "Now keep my skills a secret; don't tell anyone about them; then the queen will gain little recognition from you, even though she wants it badly. Look how boldly the lady stands before you now."
Then with might and main the noble maiden hurled the spear at a shield, mickle, new, and broad, which the son of Siegelind bore upon his arm. The sparks sprang from the steel, as if the wind did blow. The edge of the mighty spear broke fully through the shield, so that men saw the fire flame forth from the armor rings. The stalwart men both staggered at the blow; but for the Cloak of Darkness they had lain there dead. From the mouth of Siegfried, the brave, gushed forth the blood. Quickly the good knight sprang back again and snatched the spear that she had driven through his shield. Stout Siegfried's hand now sent it back again. He thought: "I will not pierce the comely maid." So he reversed the point and cast it at her armor with the butt, that it rang out loudly from his mighty hand. The sparks flew from the armor rings, as though driven by the wind. Siegmund's son had made the throw with might. With all her strength she could not stand before the blow. In faith King Gunther never could have done the deed.
Then with all her strength, the noble maiden threw the spear at a large, new shield that Siegelind's son held on his arm. Sparks flew from the steel as if the wind was blowing. The tip of the powerful spear broke completely through the shield, and flames burst out from the armor rings. Both strong men staggered from the impact; without the Cloak of Darkness, they would have fallen dead. Blood gushed from brave Siegfried's mouth. Quickly, the good knight stepped back and grabbed the spear she had driven through his shield. Stout Siegfried sent it back. He thought, "I won’t hurt the lovely maid." So he turned the tip around and threw it at her armor with the bottom, making a loud ring from his powerful hand. Sparks flew from the armor rings, as if propelled by the wind. Siegmund's son had thrown it with strength. She couldn’t withstand the force at all. Truly, King Gunther never could have accomplished this.
Brunhild, the fair, how quickly up she sprang! "Gunther, noble knight, I cry you mercy for the shot." She weened that he had done it with his strength. To her had crept a far more powerful man. Then went she quickly, angry was her mood. The noble maid and good raised high the stone and hurled it mightily far from her hand. After the cast she sprang, that all her armor rang, in truth. The stone had fallen twelve fathoms hence, but with her leap the comely maid out-sprang the throw. Then went Sir Siegfried to where lay the stone. Gunther poised it, while the hero made the throw. Siegfried was bold, strong, and tall; he threw the stone still further and made a broader jump. Through his fair arts he had strength enow to bear King Gunther with him as he sprang. The leap was made, the stone lay on the ground; men saw none other save Gunther, the knight, alone. Siegfried had banished the fear of King Gunther's death. Brunhild, the fair, waxed red with wrath. To her courtiers she spake a deal too loud, when she spied the hero safe and sound at the border of the ring: "Come nearer quickly, ye kinsmen and liegemen of mine, ye must now be subject to Gunther, the king."
Brunhild, the beautiful, quickly jumped up! "Gunther, noble knight, I apologize for the shot." She thought he had done it with his own strength. But a far more powerful man had approached her. Feeling angry, she swiftly picked up a heavy stone and threw it far away. After the throw, she jumped, and her armor clinked loudly. The stone landed twelve fathoms away, but with her leap, the lovely maiden surpassed the distance of her throw. Then Sir Siegfried went to where the stone lay. Gunther positioned it while the hero prepared to throw. Siegfried was bold, strong, and tall; he threw the stone even farther and jumped a greater distance. With his impressive skills, he had enough strength to carry King Gunther with him as he leaped. The jump was completed, and the stone was on the ground; everyone saw only Gunther, the knight, standing alone. Siegfried had removed King Gunther's fear of death. Brunhild, the beautiful, turned red with anger. She spoke a bit too loudly to her attendants when she saw the hero safe and sound at the edge of the ring: "Come closer quickly, my relatives and loyal followers; you all must now submit to Gunther, the king."
Then the brave knights laid aside their arms and paid their homage at the feet of mighty Gunther from the Burgundian land. They weened that he had won the games by his own strength alone. He greeted them in loving wise; in sooth he was most rich in virtues.
Then the brave knights put down their weapons and paid their respects at the feet of mighty Gunther from the Burgundian land. They thought he had won the games through his own strength alone. He greeted them warmly; truly, he was very rich in virtues.
Then the lovely maiden took him by the hand; full power she granted him within the land. At this Hagen, the bold and doughty knight, rejoiced him. She bade the noble knight go with her hence to the spacious palace. When this was done, they gave the warriors with their service better cheer. With good grace Hagen and Dankwart now must needs submit. The doughty Siegfried was wise enow and bare away his magic cloak. Then he repaired to where the ladies sate. To the king he spake and shrewdly did he this: "Why wait ye, good my lord? Why begin ye not the games, of which the queen doth deal so great a store? Let us soon see how they be played." The crafty man did not as though he wist not a whit thereof.
Then the beautiful maiden took him by the hand and gave him full power in the land. This made Hagen, the brave and strong knight, very happy. She invited the noble knight to join her in the grand palace. Once they arrived, they treated the warriors with better hospitality. With good grace, Hagen and Dankwart had to submit. The courageous Siegfried was clever enough and took away his magical cloak. He then went to where the ladies were sitting. He spoke to the king and cleverly said, “Why are you waiting, my lord? Why don’t you start the games that the queen has prepared so well? Let’s see how they are played soon.” The cunning man acted as if he didn’t know anything about it at all.
Then spake the Queen: "How hath it chanced that ye, Sir Siegfried, have seen naught of the games which the hand of Gunther here hath won?"
Then the Queen said, "How is it that you, Sir Siegfried, have seen nothing of the games that Gunther here has won?"
To this Hagen of the Burgundian land made answer. He spake: "Ye have made us sad of mind, my lady. Siegfried, the good knight, was by the ship when the lord of the Rhineland won from you the games. He knoweth naught thereof."
To this, Hagen of the Burgundian land replied. He said, "You've made us feel down, my lady. Siegfried, the good knight, was by the ship when the lord of the Rhineland won the games from you. He knows nothing about it."
"Well is me of this tale," spake Siegfried, the knight, "that your pride hath been brought thus low, and that there doth live a wight who hath the power to be your master. Now, O noble maiden, must ye follow us hence to the Rhine."
"Wow, what a story," said Siegfried, the knight. "It's unfortunate that your pride has been brought so low, and that there’s someone who has the power to be your master. Now, noble maiden, you must come with us to the Rhine."
Then spake the fair-fashioned maid: "That may not be. First must my kith and liegemen learn of this. Certes, I may not so lightly void my lands; my dearest friends must first be fetched."
Then the beautiful young woman said: "That can't happen. First, my family and loyal followers need to know about this. Indeed, I can't just leave my lands like that; I need to gather my closest friends first."
Then bade she messengers ride on every side. She called her friends, her kinsmen, and her men-at-arms and begged them come without delay to Isenstein, and bade them all be given lordly and rich apparel. Daily, early and late, they rode in troops to Brunhild's castle.
Then she sent messengers to ride in every direction. She called on her friends, family, and soldiers, asking them to come quickly to Isenstein, and instructed that they all be dressed in fine and lavish clothing. Day after day, early and late, they rode in groups to Brunhild's castle.
"Welaway," cried Hagen, "what have we done! We may ill abide the coming of fair Brunhild's men. If now they come into this land in force, then hath the noble maid been born to our great rue. The will of the queen is unknown to us; what if she be so wroth that we be lost?"
"Wow," shouted Hagen, "what have we done! We can barely handle the arrival of fair Brunhild's men. If they come into this land with strength, then the noble lady will bring us great regret. We don’t know the queen's intentions; what if she's so angry that we're doomed?"
Then the stalwart Siegfried spake: "Of that I'll have care. I'll not let hap that which ye fear. I'll bring you help hither to this land, from chosen knights the which till now ye have not known. Ye must not ask about me; I will fare hence. Meanwhile may God preserve your honor. I'll return eftsoon and bring you a thousand men, the very best of knights that I have ever known."
Then the brave Siegfried said, "I'll take care of that. I won't let what you're afraid of happen. I'll bring you help here, from skilled knights you haven't met before. You don't need to ask about me; I will leave now. In the meantime, may God protect your honor. I'll be back soon and bring you a thousand of the best knights I've ever known."
"Pray tarry not too long," spake then the king; "of your help we be justly glad."
"Please don't take too long," said the king; "we're truly grateful for your help."
He answered: "In a few short days I'll come again. Tell ye to Brunhild, that ye've sent me hence."
He replied, "In just a few days, I’ll come back. Tell Brunhild that you’ve sent me away."
ENDNOTES: (1) "Palaces". See Adventure III, note 7. (2) "Surcoat", which here translates the M.H.G. "wafenhemde", is a light garment of cloth or silk worn above the armor. (3) "Azagouc". See Zazamanc, Adventure VI, note 2. This strophe is evidently a late interpolation, as it contradicts the description given above. (4) Weights. The M.H.G. "messe" (Lat. "massa") is just as indefinite as the English expression. It was a mass or lump of any metal, probably determined by the size of the melting-pot.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Palaces". See Adventure III, note 7. (2) "Surcoat", which translates the M.H.G. "wafenhemde", is a light garment made of cloth or silk worn over the armor. (3) "Azagouc". See Zazamanc, Adventure VI, note 2. This stanza is clearly a later addition, as it contradicts the description given above. (4) Weights. The M.H.G. "messe" (Lat. "massa") is just as vague as the English term. It referred to a mass or lump of any metal, likely determined by the size of the melting pot.
ADVENTURE VIII. How Siegfried Fared To His Men-At-Arms, the Nibelungs.(1)
Through the gate Siegfried hied him in his Cloak of Darkness down to the sand, where he found a skiff. Secretly the son of Siegmund embarked and drove it quickly hence, as though the wind did blow it on. None saw the steersman; the bark fared fast, impelled by Siegfried's mighty strength. They weened a seldom strong wind did drive it on. Nay, it was rowed by Siegfried, the son of Siegelind, the fair. In the time of a day and night with might and main he reached a land full hundred rests (2) away, or more. The people hight Nibelungs, where he owned the mighty hoard. The hero rowed alone to a broad isle, where the lusty knight now beached the boat and made it fast full soon. To a hill he hied him, upon which stood a castle, and sought here lodgment, as way-worn travelers do. He came first to a gateway that stood fast locked. In sooth they guarded well their honor, as men still do. The stranger now gan knock upon the door, the which was closely guarded. There within he saw a giant standing, who kept the castle and at whose side lay at all times his arms. He spake: "Who is it who doth knock so rudely on the gate?"
Through the gate, Siegfried hurried in his Cloak of Darkness down to the sand, where he found a small boat. Secretly, the son of Siegmund got in and quickly set off, as if pushed by the wind. No one saw the helmsman; the boat moved swiftly, powered by Siegfried's incredible strength. They thought a strong wind was powering it along. No, it was rowed by Siegfried, the son of the beautiful Siegelind. In about a day and a night, with all his might, he reached a land a hundred rests away, or more. The people were called Nibelungs, where he possessed the mighty treasure. The hero rowed alone to a large island, where the eager knight soon beached the boat and secured it. He made his way to a hill, on which stood a castle, seeking shelter like weary travelers do. He first came to a gateway that was firmly locked. Indeed, they guarded their honor well, as people still do today. The stranger began to knock on the door, which was closely guarded. Inside, he saw a giant standing, who guarded the castle and always had his weapons by his side. He spoke: "Who is knocking so rudely on the gate?"
Then bold Siegfried changed his voice and spake: "I am a knight; do up the door, else will I enrage many a one outside to-day, who would liefer lie soft and take his ease."
Then bold Siegfried changed his voice and said: "I am a knight; close the door, or I will anger many out there today, who would rather lie comfortably and relax."
When Siegfried thus spake, it irked the warder. Meanwhile the giant had donned his armor and placed his helm upon his head. Quickly the mighty man snatched up his shield and opened wide the gate. How fiercely he ran at Siegfried and asked, how he durst wake so many valiant men? Huge blows were dealt out by his hand. Then the lordly stranger gan defend him, but with an iron bar the warder shattered his shield-plates. Then was the hero in dire need. Siegfried gan fear a deal his death, when the warder struck such mighty blows. Enow his master Siegfried loved him for this cause. They strove so sore that all the castle rang and the sound was heard in Nibelung's hall. He overcame the warder and bound him, too.
When Siegfried said this, it annoyed the guard. Meanwhile, the giant had put on his armor and placed his helmet on his head. Quickly, the powerful man grabbed his shield and opened the gate wide. He charged at Siegfried fiercely and asked how he had the nerve to wake so many brave men. He delivered massive blows with his hands. Then the noble stranger began to defend himself, but the guard shattered his shield with an iron bar. At that moment, the hero was in serious trouble. Siegfried was greatly afraid for his life when the guard struck such powerful blows. Still, his master Siegfried loved him for this reason. They fought so hard that the entire castle echoed, and the sound reached Nibelung’s hall. He defeated the guard and captured him as well.
The tale was noised abroad in all the Nibelungs' land. Alberich, the bold, a savage dwarf, heard the fierce struggle through the mountain. He armed him quick and ran to where he found the noble stranger, as he bound the mighty giant. Full wroth was Alberich and strong enow. On his body he bare helmet and rings of mail and in his hand a heavy scourge of gold. Swift and hard he ran to where Siegfried stood. Seven heavy knobs (3) hung down in front, with which he smote so fiercely the shield upon the bold man's arm, that it brake in parts. The stately stranger came in danger of his life. From his hand he flung the broken shield and thrust into the sheath a sword, the which was long. He would not strike his servant dead, but showed his courtly breeding as his knightly virtue bade him. He rushed at Alberich and with his powerful hands he seized the gray-haired man by the beard. So roughly he pulled his beard, that he screamed aloud. The tugging of the youthful knight hurt Alberich sore.
The story spread throughout all of the Nibelungs' land. Alberich, the fierce dwarf, heard the intense battle from the mountains. He quickly geared up and ran to where he found the noble stranger as he restrained the mighty giant. Alberich was furious and strong enough. He wore a helmet and mail on his body and held a heavy golden whip in his hand. He sprinted swiftly and fiercely toward where Siegfried stood. Seven heavy knobs hung down in front, and he struck the shield on the bold man's arm with such force that it broke apart. The majestic stranger was in danger of losing his life. He threw aside the broken shield and sheathed a long sword. He didn't want to kill his assailant but displayed his noble upbringing as his knightly values dictated. He rushed at Alberich and grabbed the older man's beard with his powerful hands. He yanked on his beard so hard that Alberich screamed out loud. The young knight's tugging caused Alberich great pain.
Loud cried the valiant dwarf: "Now spare my life. And might I be the vassal of any save one knight, to whom I swore an oath that I would own him as my lord, I'd serve you till my death." So spake the cunning (4) man.
Loud shouted the brave dwarf: "Please spare my life. If I could be the servant of anyone except the one knight to whom I pledged my loyalty, I would serve you until my death." So said the clever man.
He then bound Alberich as he had the giant afore. Full sore the strength of Siegfried hurt him. The dwarf gan ask: "How are ye named?"
He then tied up Alberich just like he had done with the giant before. Siegfried's strength really pained him. The dwarf asked, "What’s your name?"
"My name is Siegfried," he replied; "I deemed ye knew me well."
"My name is Siegfried," he said; "I thought you knew me well."
"Well is me of these tidings," spake Alberich, the dwarf. "Now have I noted well the knightly deeds, through which ye be by right the sovran of the land. I'll do whatso ye bid, and ye let me live."
"These news are distressing," said Alberich, the dwarf. "Now I have clearly seen the noble actions that make you the rightful ruler of the land. I will do whatever you ask, as long as you let me live."
Then spake Sir Siegfried: "Go quickly now and bring me the best of knights we have, a thousand Nibelungs, that they may see me here."
Then spoke Sir Siegfried: "Go quickly now and bring me the best knights we have, a thousand Nibelungs, so they can see me here."
Why he wanted this, none heard him say. He loosed the bonds of Alberich and the giant. Then ran Alberich swift to where he found the knights. In fear he waked the Nibelung men. He spake: "Up now, ye heroes, ye must go to Siegfried."
Why he wanted this, no one heard him say. He freed Alberich and the giant. Then Alberich ran quickly to where he found the knights. In fear, he woke the Nibelung men. He said: "Get up now, you heroes, you must go to Siegfried."
From their beds they sprang and were ready in a trice. A thousand doughty knights soon stood well clad. They hied them to where they saw Sir Siegfried stand. Then was done a fair greeting, in part by deeds. Great store of tapers were now lit up; they proffered him mulled wine. (5) He gave them thanks that they were come so soon. He spake: "Ye must away with me across the flood."
From their beds they jumped up and were ready in no time. A thousand brave knights quickly stood fully armored. They hurried to where they saw Sir Siegfried standing. Then they exchanged warm greetings, partly through actions. A lot of candles were lit; they offered him mulled wine. (5) He thanked them for arriving so quickly. He said, "You must come with me across the river."
Full ready for this he found the heroes brave and good. Well thirty hundred men were come eftsoon, from whom he chose a thousand of the best. Men brought them their helmets and other arms, for he would lead them to Brunhild's land. He spake: "Ye good knights, this will I tell you, ye must wear full costly garments there at court, for many lovely dames shall gaze upon us. Therefore must ye deck yourselves with goodly weeds."
Full ready for this, he found the heroes brave and noble. Soon, three hundred men arrived, from which he chose a thousand of the best. Men brought them their helmets and other weapons because he wanted to lead them to Brunhild's land. He said, "You good knights, let me tell you, you must wear fine clothing at court, for many beautiful ladies will be watching us. Therefore, you must adorn yourselves with elegant outfits."
Early on a morn they started on their way. What a speedy journey Siegfried won! They took with them good steeds and lordly harness, and thus they came in knightly wise to Brunhild's land. The fair maids stood upon the battlements. Then spake the queen: "Knoweth any, who they be whom I see sailing yonder far out upon the sea? They have rich sails e'en whiter than the snow."
Early one morning, they set off on their journey. What a quick trip Siegfried made! They brought along fine horses and noble gear, and so they arrived in a knightly manner in Brunhild's territory. The beautiful maidens stood on the battlements. Then the queen spoke: "Does anyone know who those are that I see sailing far out on the sea? Their sails are so rich, even whiter than snow."
Quoth the king of the Rhineland: "They're men of mine, the which I left hard by here on the way. I had them sent for, and now they be come, my lady." All eyes were fixed upon the lordly strangers.
Quoth the king of the Rhineland: "They're my men, the ones I left right here on the way. I had them summoned, and now they have arrived, my lady." Everyone's gaze was directed at the noble strangers.
Then one spied Siegfried standing at his vessel's prow in lordly weeds and many other men. The queen spake: "Sir King, pray tell me, shall I receive the strangers or shall I deny them greetings?"
Then one noticed Siegfried standing at the front of his ship in grand attire, along with many other men. The queen said, "Sir King, please tell me, should I welcome the newcomers or should I refuse them greetings?"
He spake: "Ye must go to meet them out before the palace, that they may well perceive how fain we be to see them here."
He said, "You must go meet them outside the palace so that they can really see how eager we are to have them here."
Then the queen did as the king advised her. She marked out Siegfried with her greetings from the rest. Men purveyed them lodgings and took in charge their trappings. So many strangers were now come to the land, that everywhere they jostled Brunhild's bands. Now would the valiant men fare home to Burgundy.
Then the queen followed the king's advice. She singled out Siegfried with her greetings from everyone else. Men arranged their accommodations and took care of their belongings. There were so many strangers in the land now that they pushed past Brunhild's group wherever they went. Now the brave men would head back home to Burgundy.
Then spake the queen: "My favor would I bestow on him who could deal out to the king's guests and mine my silver and gold, of which I have such store."
Then the queen said, "I would give my favor to anyone who could distribute my silver and gold to the king's guests and mine, of which I have plenty."
To this Dankwart, King Giselher's liegeman, answered: "Most noble queen," spake the brave knight, "let me but wield the keys. I trow to deal it out in fitting wise; whatso of blame I gain, let be mine own." That he was bountiful, he made appear full well.
To this, Dankwart, King Giselher's loyal servant, replied: "Most noble queen," said the brave knight, "just let me wield the keys. I promise to handle it appropriately; any blame I receive will be mine alone." His generosity was evident.
When now Sir Hagen's brother took the keys in charge, the hero's hand did proffer many a costly gift. He who craved a mark (6) received such store that all the poor might lead a merry life. Full hundred pounds he gave, nor did he stop to count. Enow walked before the hall in rich attire, who never had worn afore such lordly dress. Full sore it rued the queen when this she heard. She spake: "Sir King, I fain would have your aid, lest your chamberlain leave naught of all my store of dress; he squandereth eke my gold. If any would forfend this, I'd be his friend for aye. He giveth such royal gifts, the knight must ween, forsooth, that I have sent for death. I would fain use it longer and trow well myself to waste that which my father left me." No queen as yet hath ever had so bounteous a chamberlain.
When Sir Hagen's brother took over the keys, the hero generously offered many expensive gifts. Those who asked for a mark received enough to ensure all the poor could live happily. He gave a full hundred pounds without even counting it. Many walked in front of the hall dressed in fine clothes, who had never worn such elegant attire before. The queen was deeply upset when she heard this. She said, "Sir King, I would really like your help, or else your chamberlain will leave me with nothing from my collection of clothing; he’s also wasting my gold. If anyone could stop this, I would be his friend forever. He gives such royal gifts that the knight must indeed think I’m sending out invitations for death. I would like to use it for a while longer, and I certainly don’t want to waste what my father left me." No queen has ever had such a generous chamberlain.
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "My lady, be it told you that the king of the Rhineland hath such great store of gold and robes to give, that we have no need to carry hence aught of Brunhild's weeds."
Then Hagen of Troneg said, "My lady, I must tell you that the king of the Rhineland has such a vast amount of gold and fine clothing to offer that we don’t need to take any of Brunhild's garments with us."
"Nay, and ye love me," spake the queen, "let me fill twenty traveling chests with gold and silk as well, the which my hand shall give, when we are come across to Gunther's land."
"Well, if you love me," said the queen, "let me fill twenty traveling chests with gold and silk too, which I will give when we get to Gunther's land."
Men filled her chests with precious stones, the while her chamberlains stood by. She would not trust the duty to Giselher's men. Gunther and Hagen began to laugh thereat.
Men filled her chests with precious stones while her attendants stood by. She refused to entrust the task to Giselher's men. Gunther and Hagen started to laugh at that.
Then spake the queen: "With whom shall I leave my lands? This my hand and yours must first decree."
Then the queen said, "Who should I leave my lands to? This hand of mine and yours must decide first."
Quoth the noble king: "Now bid draw near whom ye deem fit and we will make him steward."
Quoth the noble king: "Now call forward anyone you think is suitable, and we will make him the steward."
The lady spied near by one of her highest kin (it was her mother's brother); to him the maiden spake: "Now let be commended to your care my castles and my lands, till that King Gunther's hand rule here."
The lady watched from nearby, where one of her closest relatives (her mother's brother) stood. She said to him, "Please take care of my castles and lands until King Gunther's authority is established here."
Then twenty hundred of her men she chose, who should fare with her hence to Burgundy, together with those thousand warriors from the Nibelung land. They dressed their journey; one saw them riding forth upon the sand. Six and eighty dames they took along and thereto a hundred maids, their bodies passing fair. No longer now they tarried, for they were fain to get them hence. Ho, what great wail was made by those they left at home! In courtly wise she voided thus her land. She kissed her nearest kinsmen who were found at court. After a fair leave-taking they journeyed to the sea. To her fatherland the lady nevermore returned. Many kinds of games were seen upon the way; pastimes they had galore. A real sea breeze did help them on their voyage. Thus they fared forth from the land fully merrily. She would not let her husband court her on the way; this pleasure was deferred until their wedding-tide in the castle, their home, at Worms, to which in good time she came right joyfully with all her knights.
Then she chose two thousand of her men to travel with her to Burgundy, along with those thousand warriors from the Nibelung land. They prepared for their journey, and soon you could see them riding out on the sand. They took along sixty-eight ladies and a hundred beautiful maids. They didn’t linger any longer, eager to leave. Oh, what a great cry came from those they were leaving behind! In a proper manner, she departed from her land. She kissed her closest relatives at court. After a heartfelt goodbye, they made their way to the sea. The lady never returned to her homeland. They enjoyed many games and had plenty of fun along the way. A refreshing sea breeze helped them on their journey. Thus, they set out from the land, fully cheerful. She wouldn’t let her husband pursue her during the trip; that pleasure was saved for their wedding time at the castle, their home, in Worms, to which she joyfully arrived with all her knights.
ENDNOTES: (1) Adventure VIII. This whole episode, in which Siegfried fetches men to aid Gunther in case of attempted treachery on Brunhild's part, is of late origin and has no counterpart in the older versions. It is a further development of Siegfried's fight in which he slew Schilbung and Nibelung and became the ruler of the Nibelung land. The fight with Alberich is simply a repetition of the one in the former episode. (2) "Rest" (M.H.G. "rast"), originally 'repose', then used as a measure of distance, as here. (3) "Knobs", round pieces of metal fastened to the scourge. (4) "Cunning" is to be taken here in the Biblical sense of 'knowing'. The M.H.G. "listig" which it here translates, denotes 'skilled' or 'learned' in various arts and is a standing epithet of dwarfs. (5) "Mulled wine" translates M.H.G. "lutertranc", a claret mulled with herbs and spice and left to stand until clear. (6) "Mark". See Adventure V, note 5.
ENDNOTES: (1) Adventure VIII. This whole episode, where Siegfried gathers men to help Gunther in case Brunhild tries to betray him, is of more recent origin and doesn't appear in the older versions. It's a further development of Siegfried's battle where he killed Schilbung and Nibelung, becoming the ruler of the Nibelung land. The fight with Alberich is just a repeat of the one in the previous episode. (2) "Rest" (M.H.G. "rast"), originally meaning 'repose', later used as a measure of distance, as it is here. (3) "Knobs" refers to round pieces of metal attached to the scourge. (4) "Cunning" should be understood here in the Biblical sense of 'knowing'. The M.H.G. "listig," which it translates, indicates 'skilled' or 'learned' in various arts and is a common description for dwarfs. (5) "Mulled wine" translates M.H.G. "lutertranc," a claret spiced with herbs and spices and left to settle until clear. (6) "Mark." See Adventure V, note 5.
ADVENTURE IX. How Siegfried Was Sent To Worms.
When they had thus fared on their way full nine days, Hagen of Troneg spake: "Now mark ye what I say. We wait too long with the tidings for Worms upon the Rhine. Our messengers should be e'en now in Burgundy."
When they had been traveling for nine full days, Hagen of Troneg said, "Now listen to what I’m saying. We're taking too long with the news for Worms on the Rhine. Our messengers should already be in Burgundy."
Then spake King Gunther: "Ye have told me true, and none be more fitting for this trip than ye, friend Hagen; now ride ye to my land. None can acquaint them better with our journey home to court."
Then King Gunther said, "You've told me the truth, and no one is more suited for this trip than you, my friend Hagen; now ride to my land. No one can inform them better about our journey back to court."
To this Hagen made answer: "I am no fit envoy. Let me play chamberlain, I'll stay with the ladies upon the flood and guard their robes, until we bring them to the Burgundian land. Bid Siegfried bear the message, he knoweth how to do it well with his mighty strength. If he refuse you the journey, then must ye in courtly and gentle wise pray him of the boon for your sister's sake."
To this, Hagen replied, "I'm not a suitable messenger. Let me serve as the chamberlain; I'll stay with the ladies by the river and protect their garments until we get them to Burgundian territory. Ask Siegfried to deliver the message; he knows how to do it well with his great strength. If he declines your request, then you must politely ask him for the favor for your sister's sake."
Gunther sent now for the warrior, who came to where he stood. He spake: "Sith we be now nearing my lands at home, it behooveth me to send a messenger to the dear sister of mine and to my mother, too, that we draw near the Rhine. This I pray you, Siegfried; now do my will, that I may requite it to you ever," spake the good knight.
Gunther called for the warrior, who came to where he stood. He said: "Since we are now getting close to my homeland, I need to send a messenger to my dear sister and my mother, to let them know we are approaching the Rhine. I ask you, Siegfried; please do this for me, and I will always repay you," said the good knight.
Siegfried, the passing bold man, however said him nay, till Gunther gan beseech him sore. He spake: "Ye must ride for my sake and for Kriemhild's too, the comely maiden, so that the royal maid requite it, as well as I."
Siegfried, the daring man, refused at first until Gunther urged him passionately. He said, "You must ride for my sake and for Kriemhild's too, the beautiful maiden, so that the royal lady will repay it, just like I will."
When Siegfried heard these words, full ready was the knight. "Now bid me what ye will; naught shall be withheld. I will do it gladly for the fair maid's sake. Why should I refuse her whom I bear in heart? Whatso ye command for love of her, shall all be done."
When Siegfried heard these words, the knight was fully prepared. "Now tell me what you need; I won’t hold back. I’ll gladly do it for the sake of the beautiful lady. Why would I refuse the one I hold in my heart? Whatever you ask for her sake will be done."
"Then tell my mother Uta, the queen, that we be of lofty mood upon this voyage. Let my brothers know how we have fared. These tidings must ye let our friends hear, too. Hide naught from my fair sister, give her mine and Brunhild's greetings. Greet the retainers, too, and all my men. How well I have ended that for which my heart hath ever striven! And tell Ortwin, the dear nephew of mine, that he bid seats be built at Worms along the Rhine. Let my other kinsmen know that I am willed to hold with Brunhild a mighty wedding feast. And tell my sister, when she hath heard that I be come with my guests to the land, that she give fair greeting to my bride. For that I will ever render Kriemhild service."
"Then tell my mother Uta, the queen, that we are in high spirits on this journey. Let my brothers know how we've done. This news should also be shared with our friends. Don't hide anything from my lovely sister; give her my greetings and Brunhild's too. Greet the retainers and all my men as well. I have accomplished what my heart has always desired! And tell Ortwin, my dear nephew, to arrange for seating to be set up at Worms along the Rhine. Let my other relatives know that I intend to hold a grand wedding feast with Brunhild. And when my sister hears that I have arrived with my guests, she should warmly greet my bride. Because I will always serve Kriemhild."
The good Lord Siegfried soon took leave of Lady Brunhild, as beseemed him well, and of all her train; then rode he to the Rhine. Never might there be a better envoy in this world. He rode with four and twenty men-at-arms to Worms; he came without the king. When that was noised about, the courtiers all were grieved; they feared their master had been slain.
The good Lord Siegfried soon said goodbye to Lady Brunhild and all her followers, as was proper, and then he rode to the Rhine. There could never be a better envoy in this world. He rode with twenty-four knights to Worms, arriving without the king. When word got out, the courtiers were all worried; they feared their master had been killed.
Then they dismounted from their steeds, high stood their mood. Giselher, the good young king, came soon to meet them, and Gernot his brother, too. How quickly then he spake, when he saw not Gunther at Siegfried's side: "Be welcome, Siegfried; pray let me know where ye have left the king my brother? The prowess of Brunhild, I ween, hath ta'en him from us. Great scathe had her haughty love then brought us."
Then they got off their horses, feeling cheerful. Giselher, the kind young king, soon came to greet them, along with his brother Gernot. He quickly spoke when he noticed that Gunther wasn't by Siegfried's side: "Welcome, Siegfried; please tell me where you've left my brother the king? I suspect Brunhild's strength has kept him away from us. Her prideful love has caused us great trouble."
"Let be this fear. My battle-comrade sendeth greetings to you and to his kin. I left him safe and sound. He sent me on ahead, that I might be his messenger with tidings hither to this land. Pray have a care, however that may hap, that I may see the queen and your sister, too, for I must let them hear what message Gunther and Brunhild have sent them. Both are in high estate."
"Let this fear go. My battle comrade sends his greetings to you and his family. I left him safe and sound. He sent me ahead to deliver news to this land. Please be careful, whatever may happen, that I can see the queen and your sister, too, because I need to share the message that Gunther and Brunhild have sent them. Both are in high positions."
Then spake Giselher, the youth: "Now must ye go to her, for ye have brought my much of joy. She is mickle fearful for my brother. I'll answer that the maid will see you gladly."
Then Giselher, the young man, said: "Now you must go to her, because you have brought me so much joy. She is very worried about my brother. I'll assure you that the girl will be happy to see you."
Then spake Sir Siegfried: "Howsoever I may serve her, that shall be gladly done, in faith. Who now will tell the ladies that I would hie me thither?"
Then spoke Sir Siegfried: "No matter how I can help her, I will gladly do it, truly. Who will now tell the ladies that I would go there?"
Giselher then became the messenger, the stately man. The doughty knight spake to his mother and his sister too, when that he saw them both: "To us is come Siegfried, the hero from Netherland; him my brother Gunther hath sent hither to the Rhine. He bringeth the news of how it standeth with the king. Pray let him therefore come to court. He'll tell you the right tidings straight from Isenland."
Giselher then became the messenger, the dignified man. The brave knight spoke to his mother and sister when he saw them both: "Siegfried, the hero from the Netherlands, has arrived; my brother Gunther sent him here to the Rhine. He brings news about the king. Please let him come to court. He'll give you the accurate information straight from Isenland."
As yet the noble ladies were acquaint with fear, but now for their weeds they sprang and dressed them and bade Sir Siegfried come to court. This he did full gladly, for he was fain to see them. Kriemhild, the noble maid, addressed him fair: "Be welcome, Sir Siegfried, most worshipful knight. Where is my brother Gunther, the noble and mighty king? We ween that we have lost him through Brunhild's strength. Woe is me, poor maid, that ever I was born."
As of now, the noble ladies were unfamiliar with fear, but they quickly got ready and dressed up, inviting Sir Siegfried to court. He was more than happy to come, eager to see them. Kriemhild, the noble maiden, greeted him warmly: "Welcome, Sir Siegfried, most honorable knight. Where is my brother Gunther, the noble and powerful king? We fear we have lost him due to Brunhild's strength. Woe is me, unfortunate maiden, that I was ever born."
Then spake the daring knight: "Now give me an envoy's guerdon, ye passing fair ladies, ye do weep without a cause. I do you to wit, I left him safe and sound. They have sent me with the tidings to you both. He and his bride do send you kindly greetings and a kinsman's love, O noble queen. Now leave off your weeping, they'll come full soon."
Then the brave knight said, "Now give me a reward for the messenger, you lovely ladies, you are crying without reason. I want to assure you, I left him safe and sound. They sent me with news for both of you. He and his bride send you warm greetings and family love, oh noble queen. Now stop your crying, they'll be here very soon."
In many a day she had not heard a tale so glad. With her snow-white hem she wiped the tears from her pretty eyes and began to thank the messenger for the tidings, which now were come. Thus her great sorrow and her weeping were taken away. She bade the messenger be seated; full ready he was for this. Then spake the winsome maid: "I should not rue it, should I give you as an envoy's meed my gold. For that ye are too rich, but I will be your friend in other ways."
In a long time, she hadn't heard such a joyful story. With her snow-white dress, she wiped the tears from her beautiful eyes and began to thank the messenger for the news that had finally arrived. Her deep sadness and tears were lifted. She invited the messenger to sit down; he was more than ready for this. Then the charming girl said, "I wouldn't regret giving you my gold as a reward for being my messenger. You're already too wealthy, but I will be your friend in other ways."
"And had I alone," spake he, "thirty lands, yet would I gladly receive gifts from your fair hand."
"And even if I had thirty lands by myself," he said, "I would still gladly accept gifts from your beautiful hand."
Then spake the courtly maid: "It shall be done." She bade her chamberlain go fetch the meed for tidings. Four and twenty arm-rings, set with goodly gold, she gave him as his meed. So stood the hero's mood that he would not retain them, but gave them straightway to her nearest maidens, he found within the bower. Full kindly her mother offered him her service. "I am to tell you the tale," then spake the valiant man, "of what the king doth pray you, when he cometh to the Rhine. If ye perform that, my lady, he'll ever hold you in his love. I heard him crave that ye should give fair greetings to his noble guests and grant him the boon, that ye ride to meet him out in front of Worms upon the strand. This ye are right truly admonished by the king to do."
Then spoke the noble maiden: "It will be done." She instructed her chamberlain to go fetch the reward for the news. She gave him twenty-four arm-rings, made of fine gold, as his reward. The hero's mood was such that he refused to keep them and immediately gave them to her closest maidens he found in the bower. Her mother kindly offered him her assistance. "I am here to tell you the story," then spoke the brave man, "of what the king asks of you when he arrives at the Rhine. If you fulfill this, my lady, he will always hold you dear. I heard him request that you give warm greetings to his noble guests and grant him the favor of riding out to meet him in front of Worms by the shore. This is what the king truly urges you to do."
Then spake the winsome maid: "For this am I full ready. In whatsoever wise I can serve the king, that will I not refuse; with a kinsman's love it shall be done." Her color heightened for very joy. Never was the messenger of any prince received more fair. The lady would have kissed him, had she but dared. How lovingly he parted from the dames!
Then spoke the charming young woman: "I'm completely ready for this. In whatever way I can serve the king, I won’t refuse; I’ll do it with a family’s love." Her cheeks flushed with pure joy. Never was a messenger from any prince received more warmly. The lady would have kissed him if she had the courage. How affectionately he said goodbye to the women!
The men of Burgundy then did as Siegfried counseled. Sindolt and Hunolt and Rumolt, the knight, must needs be busy with the work of putting up the seats outside of Worms upon the strand. The royal stewards, too, were found at work. Ortwin and Gere would not desist, but sent to fetch their friends on every side, and made known to them the feasting that was to be. The many comely maids arrayed themselves against the feast. Everywhere the palace and the walls were decked out for the guests. Gunther's hall was passing well purveyed for the many strangers. Thus began full merrily this splendid feast.
The men of Burgundy then followed Siegfried's advice. Sindolt, Hunolt, and the knight Rumolt got busy setting up the seats outside Worms by the riverbank. The royal stewards were also hard at work. Ortwin and Gere wouldn’t stop but sent out messages to gather their friends and let them know about the upcoming feast. Many lovely maidens got ready for the celebration. The palace and its walls were beautifully decorated for the guests. Gunther's hall was well-prepared for the many strangers. And so, this grand feast began joyfully.
From every side along the highways of the land pricked now the kinsmen of these three kings, who had been called that they might wait upon those who were coming home. Then from the presses great store of costly weeds was taken. Soon tidings were brought that men saw Brunhild's kinsmen ride along. Great jostling then arose from the press of folk in the Burgundian land. Ho, what bold knights were found on either side!
From all around the highways of the land, the relatives of these three kings gathered to welcome those who were coming home. Then, from the storerooms, a great collection of expensive garments was prepared. Soon news arrived that people saw Brunhild's relatives riding in. A huge commotion broke out among the crowd in the Burgundian land. Wow, what brave knights were present on both sides!
Then spake fair Kriemhild: "Ye maids of mine, who would be with me at the greeting, seek out from the guests the very best of robes; then will praise and honor be given us by the guests." Then came the warriors, too, and bade the lordly saddles of pure red gold be carried forth, on which the ladies should ride from Worms down to the Rhine. Better trappings might there never be. Ho, what bright gold did sparkle on the jet-black palfreys! From their bridles there gleamed forth many a precious stone. The golden stepping-blocks were brought and placed on shining carpets for the ladies, who were gay of mood. As I have said, the palfreys now stood ready in the courtyard for the noble maids. One saw the steeds wear narrow martingales of the best of silk, of which tale might be told. Six and eighty ladies who wore fillets (1) in their hair were seen come forth. The fair ones came to Kriemhild wearing glittering robes. Then followed many a comely maid in brave attire, fifty and four from the Burgundian land. They were eke the best that might anywhere be found. Men saw them walking with their flaxen hair and shining ribbons. That which the king desired was done with zeal. They wore before the stranger knights rich cloth of silk, the best that could be found, and so many a goodly robe, which well befit their ample beauty. One found there many clothes of sable and ermine fur. Many an arm and hand was well adorned with bracelets over the silken sleeves, which they should wear. None might tell the story of this tiring to the end. Many a hand played with well-wrought girdles, rich and long, above gay colored robes, over costly ferran (2) skirts of silken cloth of Araby. In high spirits were these maids of noble birth. Clasps (3) were sewed in lovely wise upon the dress of many a comely maid. She had good cause to rue it, whose bright color did not shine in contrast to her weeds. No kingly race hath now such fair retainers. When now the lovely maids had donned the garments they should wear, there then drew near a mickle band of high-mettled champions. Together with their shields they carried many an ashen spear.
Then spoke beautiful Kriemhild: "My ladies, who will be with me at the greeting, find the best robes from our guests; then we will earn praise and honor from them." Then the warriors came and ordered the magnificent saddles of pure red gold to be brought out, for the ladies to ride from Worms down to the Rhine. There couldn't be better decorations. Oh, how the bright gold sparkled on the jet-black horses! Many precious stones gleamed from their bridles. The golden stepping blocks were brought and placed on shining carpets for the ladies, who were in a cheerful mood. As I mentioned, the horses were ready in the courtyard for the noblewomen. You could see the horses wearing narrow martingales made from the finest silk, each with a story to tell. Eighty-six ladies with fillets in their hair came out. The beautiful ones approached Kriemhild in their glittering robes. Following them were many lovely maidens in splendid attire, fifty-four from the Burgundian land. They were indeed the best that could be found anywhere. People saw them walking with their flaxen hair and shining ribbons. What the king desired was done with enthusiasm. They wore rich silk cloth, the finest available, and many lovely robes that suited their ample beauty well. There were also garments of sable and ermine fur among them. Many arms and hands were adorned with bracelets over the silken sleeves they wore. No one could fully recount the story of this dressing. Many hands played with finely crafted long girdles over brightly colored robes, over expensive ferran skirts of silken cloth from Arabia. These noble-born ladies were in high spirits. Clasps were beautifully sewn onto the dresses of many charming maidens. She had good reason to regret it if her bright colors didn't stand out against her attire. No royal lineage has such beautiful retainers now. When the lovely ladies had put on the garments they were to wear, a great band of spirited champions approached. Along with their shields, they carried many ash spears.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Fillets" were worn only by married women. (2) "Ferran", a gray colored cloth of silk and wool; from O.F. "ferrandine". (3) "Clasps" or "brooches" were used to fasten the dresses in front.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Fillets" were worn only by married women. (2) "Ferran" is a gray fabric made of silk and wool; from O.F. "ferrandine". (3) "Clasps" or "brooches" were used to fasten the dresses in front.
ADVENTURE X. How Brunhild Was Received At Worms.
Across the Rhine men saw the king with his guests in many bands pricking to the shore. One saw the horse of many a maiden, too, led by the bridle. All those who should give them welcome were ready now. When those of Isenland and Siegfried's Nibelung men were come across in boats, they hasted to the shore (not idle were their hands), where the kindred of the king were seen upon the other bank. Now hear this tale, too, of the queen, the noble Uta, how she herself rode hither with the maidens from the castle. Then many a knight and maid became acquaint. Duke Gere led Kriemhild's palfrey by the bridle till just outside the castle gate. Siegfried, the valiant knight, must needs attend her further. A fair maid was she! Later the noble dame requited well this deed. Ortwin, the bold, rode by Lady Uta's side, and many knights and maidens rode in pairs. Well may we aver that so many dames were never seen together at such stately greeting. Many a splendid joust was ridden by worshipful knights (not well might it be left undone) afore Kriemhild, the fair, down to the ships. Then the fair-fashioned ladies were lifted from the palfreys. The king was come across and many a worthy guest. Ho, what stout lances brake before the ladies' eyes! One heard the clash of many hurtling shields. Ho, what costly bucklers rang loudly as they closed! The lovely fair stood by the shore as Gunther and his guests alighted from the boats; he himself led Brunhild by the hand. Bright gems and gleaming armor shone forth in rivalry. Lady Kriemhild walked with courtly breeding to meet Dame Brunhild and her train. White hands removed the chaplets, (1) as these twain kissed each other; through deference this was done.
Across the Rhine, people saw the king with his guests coming to the shore in groups. They also spotted the horses of many maidens being led by the bridle. All those who were meant to welcome them were ready now. When the people from Isenland and Siegfried's Nibelung men arrived by boat, they hurried to the shore (their hands were not idle), where the king's relatives were seen on the other bank. Now hear this story too, about the queen, the noble Uta, how she rode here with the maidens from the castle. Then many knights and maidens got to know each other. Duke Gere led Kriemhild's horse by the bridle right up to the castle gate. The brave knight Siegfried had to accompany her further. She was a beautiful maiden! Later, the noble lady repaid this kindness well. Ortwin, the brave one, rode beside Lady Uta, and many knights and maidens rode together. We can certainly say that so many ladies had never gathered for such a grand welcome. Many impressive jousts were performed by honorable knights (it would have been a shame to skip this) before the lovely Kriemhild, right down to the ships. Then the beautiful ladies were helped down from their horses. The king had arrived along with many esteemed guests. Oh, what strong lances broke before the ladies' eyes! You could hear the clash of many flying shields. Oh, what expensive bucklers rang loudly as they came together! The lovely ladies stood by the shore as Gunther and his guests got off the boats; he himself led Brunhild by the hand. Bright gems and shining armor sparkled in competition. Lady Kriemhild walked gracefully to greet Dame Brunhild and her entourage. White hands removed the garlands, as the two kissed each other; this was done out of respect.
Then in courteous wise the maiden Kriemhild spake: "Be ye welcome in these lands of ours, to me and to my mother and to all the loyal kin we have."
Then in a polite manner, the maiden Kriemhild said: "Welcome to our lands, to me, my mother, and all our loyal family."
Low bows were made and the ladies now embraced full oft. Such loving greeting hath one never heard, as the two ladies, Dame Uta and her daughter, gave the bride; upon her sweet mouth they kissed her oft. When now Brunhild's ladies all were come to land, stately knights took many a comely woman by the hand in loving wise. The fair-fashioned maids were seen to stand before the lady Brunhild. Long time elasped or ever the greetings all were done; many a rose-red mouth was kissed, in sooth. Still side by side the noble princesses stood, which liked full well the doughty warriors for to see. They who had heard men boast afore that such beauty had ne'er been seen as these two dames possessed, spied now with all their eyes and must confess the truth. Nor did one see upon their persons cheats of any kind. Those who wot how to judge of women and lovely charms, praised Gunther's bride for beauty; but the wise had seen more clear and spake, that one must give Kriemhild the palm before Brunhild.
Low bows were exchanged, and the ladies often hugged each other. The sweet greetings that Dame Uta and her daughter gave the bride were unlike anything anyone had ever heard; they kissed her frequently on her lovely lips. When all of Brunhild's ladies finally arrived on land, noble knights took many beautiful women by the hand in a welcoming manner. The lovely maidens were seen standing before Lady Brunhild. A long time passed before all the greetings were finished; many a rosy mouth was kissed, indeed. Still standing side by side, the noble princesses pleased the brave warriors who watched them. Those who had heard men boast that such beauty had never been seen in such women now looked closely and had to admit the truth. No one could find any flaws on their bodies. Those who knew how to judge women and their beauty praised Gunther's bride, but the wise ones had a clearer view and said that Kriemhild should be regarded as more beautiful than Brunhild.
Maids and ladies now drew near each other. Many a comely dame was seen arrayed full well. Silken tents and many rich pavilions stood hard by, the which quite filled the plain of Worms. The kinsmen of the king came crowding around, when Brunhild and Kriemhild and with them all the dames were bidden go to where shade was found. Thither the knights from the Burgundian land escorted them.
Maids and ladies moved closer together. Many beautiful women were elegantly dressed. Silken tents and numerous lavish pavilions were set up nearby, filling the plain of Worms. The king's relatives gathered around as Brunhild, Kriemhild, and all the ladies were invited to where there was shade. The knights from Burgundy escorted them there.
Now were the strangers come to horse, and shields were pierced in many royal jousts. From the plain the dust gan rise, as though the whole land had burst forth into flames. There many a knight became well known as champion. Many a maiden saw what there the warriors plied. Methinks, Sir Siegfried and his knights rode many a turn afore the tents. He led a thousand stately Nibelungs.
Now the strangers mounted their horses, and shields were shattered in many royal tournaments. Dust rose from the plain, as if the entire land had erupted in flames. Many knights gained fame as champions there. Many maidens witnessed what the warriors were doing. It seems to me that Sir Siegfried and his knights rode around the tents many times. He led a thousand impressive Nibelungs.
Then Hagen of Troneg came, as the king had counseled, and parted in gentle wise the jousting, that the fair maids be not covered with the dust, the which the strangers willingly obeyed. Then spake Sir Gernot: "Let stand the steeds till the air grow cooler, for ye must be full ready when that the king will ride. Meanwhile let us serve the comely dames before the spacious hall."
Then Hagen of Troneg arrived, as the king had advised, and politely interrupted the jousting so that the lovely ladies wouldn't be covered in dust, which the knights were more than happy to accept. Then Sir Gernot said, "Let the horses rest until it gets cooler, because you need to be fully prepared when the king decides to ride. In the meantime, let's attend to the beautiful ladies in the grand hall."
When now over all the plain the jousts had ceased, the knights, on pastime bent, hied them to the ladies under many a high pavilion in the hope of lofty joys. There they passed the hours until they were minded to ride away.
When the tournaments had ended across the plain, the knights, eager for fun, made their way to the ladies under various grand pavilions, hoping for delightful experiences. They spent their time there until they decided it was time to ride away.
Just at eventide, when the sun was setting and the air grew chill, no longer they delayed, but man and woman hasted toward the castle. Many a comely maiden was caressed with loving glances. In jousting great store of clothes were torn by good knights, by the high-mettled warriors, after the custom of the land, until the king dismounted by the hall. Valiant heroes helped the ladies, as is their wont. The noble queens then parted; Lady Uta and her daughter went with their train to a spacious hall, where great noise of merriment was heard on every side.
Just as evening fell, when the sun was setting and the air turned cool, the man and woman no longer hesitated, but hurried toward the castle. Many beautiful maidens were showered with affectionate looks. During the jousting, plenty of clothes were torn by the brave knights, the spirited warriors, as was customary in the land, until the king dismounted near the hall. Valiant heroes assisted the ladies, as they always do. The noble queens then separated; Lady Uta and her daughter went with their group to a large hall, where the sound of laughter and joy echoed all around.
The seats were now made ready, for the king would go to table with his guests. At his side men saw fair Brunhild stand, wearing the crown in the king's domain. Royal enow she was in sooth. Good broad tables, with full many benches for the men, were set with vitaille, as we are told. Little they lacked that they should have! At the king's table many a lordly guest was seen. The chamberlains of the host bare water forth in basins of ruddy gold. It were but in vain, if any told you that men were ever better served at princes' feasts: I would not believe you that.
The seats were ready because the king was about to dine with his guests. Beside him stood the beautiful Brunhild, wearing the crown in the king's realm. She truly looked the part of royalty. Large tables, along with plenty of benches for the men, were filled with food, as we're told. They had everything they could possibly need! At the king's table, many noble guests were present. The king’s attendants brought water in basins of shiny gold. It would be pointless to claim that anyone has ever been better served at a prince's feast; I wouldn't believe that.
Before the lord of the Rhineland took the water to wash his hands, Siegfried did as was but meet, he minded him by his troth of what he had promised, or ever he had seen Brunhild at home in Isenland. He spake: "Ye must remember how ye swore me by your hand, that when Lady Brunhild came to this land, ye would give me your sister to wife. Where be now these oaths? I have suffered mickle hardship on our trip."
Before the lord of the Rhineland washed his hands, Siegfried reminded him of his promise, which he made before he ever saw Brunhild at home in Isenland. He said, "You have to remember how you swore to me by your hand that when Lady Brunhild arrived in this land, you would give me your sister as my wife. Where are those oaths now? I have endured a lot of hardship on our journey."
Then spake the king to his guest: "Rightly have ye minded me. Certes my hand shall not be perjured. I'll bring it to pass as best I can."
Then the king said to his guest, "You have remembered me well. I swear my hand will not betray me. I’ll do my best to make it happen."
Then they bade Kriemhild go to court before the king. She came with her fair maidens to the entrance of the hall. At this Sir Giselher sprang down the steps. "Now bid these maidens turn again. None save my sister alone shall be here by the king."
Then they asked Kriemhild to go to the court in front of the king. She arrived with her beautiful maidens at the entrance of the hall. At that moment, Sir Giselher stepped down the stairs. "Now tell these maidens to leave. No one but my sister should be here with the king."
Then they brought Kriemhild to where the king was found. There stood noble knights from many princes' lands; throughout the broad hall one bade them stand quite still. By this time Lady Brunhild had stepped to the table, too. Then spake King Gunther: "Sweet sister mine, by thy courtesie redeem my oath. I swore to give thee to a knight, and if he become thy husband, then hast thou done my will most loyally."
Then they brought Kriemhild to where the king was. Noble knights from many princes' lands stood there; throughout the wide hall, everyone was told to stand still. By this time, Lady Brunhild had also stepped to the table. Then King Gunther spoke: "Dear sister, please honor my promise. I swore to give you to a knight, and if he becomes your husband, then you will have fulfilled my wishes loyally."
Quoth the noble maid: "Dear brother mine, ye must not thus entreat me. Certes I'll be ever so, that whatever ye command, that shall be done. I'll gladly pledge my troth to him whom ye, my lord, do give me to husband."
Quoth the noble maid: "Dear brother, you must not treat me like this. I will always be this way; whatever you command will be done. I will gladly pledge my loyalty to whoever you, my lord, give me as a husband."
Siegfried here grew red at the glance of friendly eyes. The knight then proffered his service to Lady Kriemhild. Men bade them take their stand at each other's side within the ring and asked if she would take the stately man. In maidenly modesty she was a deal abashed, yet such was Siegfried's luck and fortune, that she would not refuse him out of hand. The noble king of Netherland vowed to take her, too, to wife. When he and the maid had pledged their troths, Siegfried's arm embraced eftsoon the winsome maid. Then the fair queen was kissed before the knights. The courtiers parted, when that had happed; on the bench over against the king Siegfried was seen to take his scat with Kriemhild. Thither many a man accompanied him as servitor; men saw the Nibelungs walk at Siegfried's side.
Siegfried turned red at the sight of friendly eyes. The knight then offered his services to Lady Kriemhild. The men asked them to stand side by side within the circle and inquired if she would accept the dignified man. With modesty befitting a maiden, she felt quite shy, yet Siegfried’s luck was such that she wouldn’t immediately refuse him. The noble king of Netherland vowed to take her as his wife as well. Once he and the lady exchanged vows, Siegfried soon embraced the lovely maiden. Then the beautiful queen was kissed in front of the knights. After that, the courtiers dispersed; on the bench opposite the king, Siegfried was seen sitting with Kriemhild. Many men accompanied him as servants; people saw the Nibelungs walking alongside Siegfried.
The king had seated him with Brunhild, the maid, when she espied Kriemhild (naught had ever irked her so) sitting at Siegfried's side. She began to weep and hot tears coursed down fair cheeks. Quoth the lord of the land: "What aileth you, my lady, that ye let bright eyes grow dim? Ye may well rejoice; my castles and my land and many a stately vassal own your sway."
The king had placed him next to Brunhild, the maid, when she noticed Kriemhild (nothing had ever bothered her so much) sitting beside Siegfried. She began to cry, and hot tears ran down her fair cheeks. The lord of the land said, "What’s wrong, my lady, that you let your bright eyes grow dim? You should be happy; my castles and my land, along with many noble vassals, belong to you."
"I have good cause to weep," spake the comely maid; "my heart is sore because of thy sister, whom I see sitting so near thy vassal's side. I must ever weep that she be so demeaned."
"I have every reason to cry," said the beautiful girl; "my heart hurts because of your sister, whom I see sitting so close to your servant. I will always cry because she is treated this way."
Then spake the King Gunther: "Ye would do well to hold your peace. At another time I will tell you the tale of why I gave Siegfried my sister unto wife. Certes she may well live ever happily with the knight."
Then King Gunther said, "You should keep quiet. Another time, I'll tell you the story of why I gave Siegfried my sister as a wife. Surely, she can live happily with the knight."
She spake: "I sorrow ever for her beauty and her courtesie. I fain would flee, and I wist whither I might; go, for never will I lie close by your side, unless ye tell me through what cause Kriemhild be Siegfried's bride."
She said, "I always grieve for her beauty and her kindness. I would gladly leave if I knew where to go; I won't lie next to you unless you tell me why Kriemhild is Siegfried's bride."
Then spake the noble king: "I'll do it you to wit; he hath castles and broad domains, as well as I. Know of a truth, he is a mighty king, therefore did I give him the peerless maid to love."
Then spoke the noble king: "I'll tell you this; he has castles and vast lands, just like I do. Truly, he is a powerful king, which is why I gave him the one-of-a-kind maiden to love."
But whatsoever the king might say, she remained full sad of mood.
But no matter what the king said, she stayed really sad.
Now many a good knight hastened from the board. Their hurtling waxed so passing hard, that the whole castle rang. But the host was weary of his guests. Him-thought that he might lie more soft at his fair lady's side. As yet he had not lost at all the hope that much of joy might hap to him through her. Lovingly he began to gaze on Lady Brunhild. Men bade the guests leave off their knightly games, for the king and his wife would go to bed. Brunhild and Kriemhild then met before the stairway of the hall, as yet without the hate of either. Then came their retinue. Noble chamberlains delayed not, but brought them lights. The warriors, the liegemen of the two kings, then parted on either side and many of the knights were seen to walk with Siegfried.
Now many good knights hurried away from the table. Their fighting got so intense that the whole castle echoed with the noise. But the host was tired of his guests. He thought he might find more comfort beside his beautiful lady. He still hadn't given up hope that he could find joy through her. Lovingly, he began to gaze at Lady Brunhild. People asked the guests to stop their knightly games since the king and his wife were about to go to bed. Brunhild and Kriemhild then met at the foot of the hall’s staircase, still without any animosity between them. Soon their attendants arrived. Noble chamberlains quickly brought them lights. The warriors, the vassals of the two kings, then split to either side, and many of the knights were seen walking with Siegfried.
The lords were now come to the rooms where they should lie. Each of the twain thought to conquer by love his winsome dame. This made them blithe of mood. Siegfried's pleasure on that night was passing great. When Lord Siegfried lay at Kriemhild's side and with his noble love caressed the high-born maid so tenderly, she grew as dear to him as life, so that not for a thousand other women would he have given her alone. No more I'll tell how Siegfried wooed his wife; hear now the tale of how King Gunther lay by Lady Brunhild's side. The stately knight had often lain more soft by other dames. The courtiers now had left, both maid and man. The chamber soon was locked; he thought to caress the lovely maid. Forsooth the time was still far off, ere she became his wife. In a smock of snowy linen she went to bed. Then thought the noble knight: "Now have I here all that I have ever craved in all my days." By rights she must needs please him through her comeliness. The noble king gan shroud the lights and then the bold knight hied him to where the lady lay. He laid him at her side, and great was his joy when in his arms he clasped the lovely fair. Many loving caresses he might have given, had but the noble dame allowed it. She waxed so wroth that he was sore a-troubled; he weened that they were lovers, but he found here hostile hate. She spake: "Sir Knight, pray give this over, which now ye hope. Forsooth this may not hap, for I will still remain a maid, until I hear the tale; now mark ye that."
The lords had now arrived in the rooms where they would spend the night. Each of them intended to win over his charming lady through love. This put them in a cheerful mood. Siegfried felt extremely pleased on that night. When Lord Siegfried lay by Kriemhild's side and tenderly caressed the noble maiden with his affectionate love, she became as dear to him as life itself, to the point that he wouldn't trade her for a thousand other women. I won’t elaborate on how Siegfried courted his wife; now let's hear the story of how King Gunther lay next to Lady Brunhild. The distinguished knight had often spent the night more comfortably beside other ladies. The courtiers had now left, both maid and man. The chamber was soon locked; he intended to embrace the lovely maiden. Indeed, it would still be a while before she became his wife. She went to bed wearing a shift of snowy linen. Then the noble knight thought: "Now I have everything I've ever desired in my life." Naturally, she should please him with her beauty. The noble king began to dim the lights and then eagerly approached where the lady lay. He laid down beside her, and his joy was immense when he held the beautiful woman in his arms. He could have given many loving caresses, had the noble lady permitted it. Instead, she became so furious that he was greatly troubled; he thought they were lovers, but he found only hostility. She spoke: "Sir Knight, please stop this pursuit, for what you hope cannot happen. I will remain a maid until I hear the story; so mark that well."
Then Gunther grew wroth; he struggled for her love and rumpled all her clothes. The high-born maid then seized her girdle, the which was a stout band she wore around her waist, and with it she wrought the king great wrong enow. She bound him hand and foot and bare him to a nail and hung him on the wall. She forbade him love, sith he disturbed her sleep. Of a truth he came full nigh to death through her great strength.
Then Gunther became angry; he fought for her love and messed up all her clothes. The noblewoman then grabbed her belt, which was a sturdy band she wore around her waist, and with it, she did the king a great wrong. She tied him up hand and foot, nailed him to the wall, and hung him there. She denied him love since he disrupted her sleep. Truly, he nearly died from her immense strength.
Then he who had weened to be the master, began to plead. "Now loose my bands, most noble queen. I no longer trow to conquer you, fair lady, and full seldom will I lie so near your side."
Then the one who thought he was in charge began to plead. "Now release me from my bonds, most noble queen. I no longer believe I can conquer you, beautiful lady, and I will seldom lay so close to your side."
She reeked not how he felt, for she lay full soft. There he had to hang all night till break of day, until the bright morn shone through the casements. Had he ever had great strength, it was little seen upon him now.
She had no idea how he felt, as she lay there completely at ease. He had to stay there all night until dawn, waiting for the bright morning light to come through the windows. If he had ever been strong, it was hardly noticeable now.
"Now tell me, Sir Gunther, would that irk you aught," the fair maid spake, "and your servants found you bound by a woman's hand?"
"Now tell me, Sir Gunther, would that bother you at all," the fair maid said, "if your servants found you tied up by a woman's hand?"
Then spake the noble knight: "That would serve you ill; nor would it gain me honor," spake the doughty man. "By your courtesie, pray let me lie now by your side. Sith that my love mislike you so, I will not touch your garment with my hands."
Then the noble knight said, "That wouldn't be good for you, nor would it bring me honor," said the brave man. "Out of respect, please let me lie here by your side. Since my love dislikes you so much, I won't even touch your clothes with my hands."
Then she loosed him soon and let him rise. To the bed again, to the lady he went and laid him down so far away, that thereafter he full seldom touched her comely weeds. Nor would she have allowed it.
Then she let him go quickly and allowed him to get up. He went back to the bed and lay down so far away from her that he rarely touched her beautiful clothes after that. Nor would she have allowed it.
Then their servants came and brought them new attire, of which great store was ready for them against the morn. However merry men made, the lord of the land was sad enow, albeit he wore a crown that day. As was the usage which they had and which they kept by right, Gunther and Brunhild no longer tarried, but hied them to the minster, where mass was sung. Thither, too, Sir Siegfried came and a great press arose among the crowd. In keeping with their royal rank, there was ready for them all that they did need, their crowns and robes as well. Then they were consecrated. When this was done, all four were seen to stand joyful 'neath their crowns. Many young squires, six hundred or better, were now girt with sword in honor of the kings, as ye must know. Great joy rose then in the Burgundian land; one heard spear-shafts clashing in the hands of the sworded knights. There at the windows the fair maids sat; they saw shining afore them the gleam of many a shield. But the king had sundered him from his liegemen; whatso others plied, men saw him stand full sad. Unlike stood his and Siegfried's mood. The noble knight and good would fain have known what ailed the king. He hasted to him and gan ask: "Pray let me know how ye have fared this night, Sir King."
Then their servants came and brought them new outfits, which had been prepared for them in advance. No matter how joyful the others were, the lord of the land was quite sad, even though he wore a crown that day. As was their custom, Gunther and Brunhild didn’t delay and hurried to the church, where mass was being held. Sir Siegfried also arrived, and there was a great stir among the crowd. In line with their royal status, everything they needed—crowns and robes—was ready for them. After they were blessed, all four were seen standing joyfully beneath their crowns. Many young squires, six hundred or more, were now armed with swords in honor of the kings. Great joy rose in the Burgundian land; you could hear the sound of spear shafts clashing in the hands of the armored knights. There at the windows sat the beautiful maidens; they saw the shine of many shields before them. But the king had separated himself from his followers; despite what others did, people noticed he looked very sad. His mood was different from Siegfried’s. The noble knight, wanting to know what troubled the king, hurried over to him and asked, "Please let me know how you have fared this night, Sir King."
Then spake the king to his guest: "Shame and disgrace have I won; I have brought a fell devil to my house and home. When I weened to love her, she bound me sore; she bare me to a nail and hung me high upon a wall. There I hung affrighted all night until the day, or ever she unbound me. How softly she lay bedded there! In hope of thy pity do I make plaint to thee as friend to friend."
Then the king spoke to his guest: "I have brought shame and disgrace upon myself; I have invited a wicked devil into my home. When I thought I could love her, she tangled me up tight; she left me hanging by a nail high on a wall. I hung there, terrified all night until morning, until she finally let me down. How peacefully she rested there! Out of hope for your sympathy, I share my sorrow with you as a friend to a friend."
Then spake stout Siegfried: "That rueth me in truth. I'll do you this to wit; and ye allow me without distrust, I'll contrive that she lie by you so near this night, that she'll nevermore withhold from you her love."
Then brave Siegfried said, "I'm truly sorry about that. Let me tell you this; if you trust me without any doubts, I'll make sure she lies next to you tonight, so she'll never hold back her love from you again."
After all his hardships Gunther liked well this speech. Sir Siegfried spake again: "Thou mayst well be of good cheer. I ween we fared unlike last night. Thy sister Kriemhild is dearer to me than life; the Lady Brunhild must become thy wife to-night. I'll come to thy chamber this night, so secretly in my Cloud Cloak, that none may note at all my arts. Then let the chamberlains betake them to their lodgings and I'll put out the lights in the pages' hands, whereby thou mayst know that I be within and that I'll gladly serve thee. I'll tame for time thy wife, that thou mayst have her love to-night, or else I'll lose my life."
After all his struggles, Gunther really liked this speech. Sir Siegfried spoke again: "You can be in good spirits. I think we did better than last night. Your sister Kriemhild is more precious to me than life itself; Lady Brunhild will become your wife tonight. I'll come to your room later, so quietly in my Cloud Cloak that no one will notice my tricks. Then let the chamberlains head to their rooms, and I'll extinguish the lights held by the servants, which will let you know I’m inside and that I’m happy to help you. I’ll win over your wife for now, so you can have her love tonight, or else I’ll lose my life."
"Unless be thou embrace my dear lady," spake then the king, "I shall be glad, if thou do to her as thou dost list. I could endure it well, an' thou didst take her life. In sooth she is a fearful wife."
"Unless you embrace my dear lady," the king said, "I'll be fine if you do with her as you please. I could handle it well if you took her life. Honestly, she’s a terrible wife."
"I pledge upon my troth," quoth Siegfried, "that I will not embrace her. The fair sister of thine, she is to me above all maids that I have ever seen."
"I promise on my word," said Siegfried, "that I will not embrace her. The beautiful sister of yours is, to me, the most special of all the maidens I have ever seen."
Gunther believed full well what Siegfried spake.
Gunther fully understood what Siegfried said.
From the knightly sports there came both joy and woe; but men forbade the hurtling and the shouting, since now the ladies were to hie them to the hall. The grooms-in-waiting bade the people stand aside; the court was cleared of steeds and folk. A bishop led each of the ladies, as they should go to table in the presence of the kings. Many a stately warrior followed to the seats. In fair hope the king sate now full merrily; well he thought on that which Siegfried had vowed to do. This one day thought him as long as thirty days, for all his thoughts were bent upon his lady's love. He could scarce abide the time to leave the board. Now men let fair Brunhild and Kriemhild, too, both go to their rest. Ho, what doughty knights were seen to walk before the queens!
From the knightly games came both happiness and sadness; but the men stopped the chaos and noise, as the ladies were now to head to the hall. The attendants asked the crowd to stand aside; the court was cleared of horses and people. A bishop guided each of the ladies as they headed to the table in the presence of the kings. Many noble warriors followed to their seats. The king sat down now in good spirits; he was happily thinking about what Siegfried had promised to do. This one day felt as long as thirty days to him, as all his thoughts were focused on his lady's love. He could hardly wait to leave the table. Now the beautiful Brunhild and Kriemhild were also allowed to go to their quarters. Oh, what brave knights were seen walking before the queens!
The Lord Siegfried sate in loving wise by his fair wife, in bliss without alloy. With her snow-white hands she fondled his, till that he vanished from before her eyes, she wist not when. When now she no longer spied him, as she toyed, the queen spake to his followers: "Much this wondereth me, whither the king be gone. Who hath taken his hands from mine?"
The Lord Siegfried sat lovingly next to his beautiful wife, in pure bliss. With her snow-white hands, she gently held his until he suddenly disappeared from her sight, and she didn't even notice when it happened. Now that she couldn't see him anymore, as she played with her hands, the queen spoke to his followers: "I'm really wondering where the king has gone. Who has taken his hands from mine?"
She spake no other word, but he was gone to where he found many grooms of the chamber stand with lights. These he gan snuff out in the pages' hands. Thus Gunther knew that it was Siegfried. Well wist he what he would; he bade the maids and ladies now withdraw. When that was done, the mighty king himself made fast the door and nimbly shoved in place two sturdy bolts. Quickly then he hid the lights behind the hangings of the bed. Stout Siegfried and the maiden now began a play (for this there was no help) which was both lief and loth to Gunther. Siegfried laid him close by the high-born maid. She spake: "Now, Gunther, let that be, and it be lief to you, that ye suffer not hardship as afore."
She didn't say anything else, but he went to where he found several attendants with lights. He started to put them out in the pages' hands. This made Gunther realize it was Siegfried. He knew exactly what Siegfried wanted; he told the maids and ladies to leave. Once they were gone, the mighty king locked the door and quickly slid two heavy bolts into place. He then hid the lights behind the bed curtains. Strong Siegfried and the lady began a situation (there was no avoiding it) that was both pleasing and distressing to Gunther. Siegfried lay down close to the noble lady. She said, "Now, Gunther, let that go, and if it pleases you, don’t endure hardship like before."
Then the lady hurt bold Siegfried sore. He held his peace and answered not a whit. Gunther heard well, though he could not see his friend a bit, that they plied not secret things, for little ease they had upon the bed. Siegfried bare him as though he were Gunther, the mighty king. In his arms he clasped the lovely maid. She cast him from the bed upon a bench near by, so that his head struck loudly against the stool. Up sprang the valiant man with all his might; fain would he try again. When he thought now to subdue her, she hurt him sore. Such defense, I ween, might nevermore be made by any wife.
Then the lady seriously hurt bold Siegfried. He stayed silent and didn’t respond at all. Gunther could hear what was happening, even though he couldn't see his friend at all, that they weren’t discussing secret matters, as they had little comfort on the bed. Siegfried treated her as if he were Gunther, the powerful king. He held the beautiful maid in his arms. She pushed him off the bed onto a nearby bench, causing his head to hit the stool loudly. The brave man jumped up with all his strength; he wanted to try again. But as he attempted to overpower her, she hurt him badly. Such resistance, I believe, could never again be shown by any wife.
When he would not desist, up sprang the maid. "Ye shall not rumple thus my shift so white. Ye are a clumsy churl and it shall rue you sore, I'll have you to know fall well," spake the comely maid. In her arms she grasped the peerless knight; she weened to bind him, as she had done the king, that she might have her case upon the bed. The lady avenged full sore, that he had rumpled thus her clothes. What availed his mickle force and his giant strength? She showed the knight her masterly strength of limb; she carried him by force (and that must needs be) and pressed him rudely 'twixt a clothes-press and the wall.
When he wouldn't stop, the maid leaped up. "You won't mess up my beautiful white shift like that. You're a clumsy jerk, and you'll regret it, just so you know," said the lovely maid. She grabbed hold of the unmatched knight, intending to tie him up like she had done with the king, so she could have her way on the bed. The lady was extremely angry that he had wrinkled her clothes. What good were his great strength and power? She demonstrated her impressive strength, overpowering him and forcing him between a clothes press and the wall.
"Alas," so thought the knight, "if now I lose my life at a maiden's hands, then may all wives hereafter bear towards their husbands haughty mien, who would never do it else."
"Wow," thought the knight, "if I lose my life at the hands of a maiden now, then all wives in the future may treat their husbands with a proud attitude, which they would never do otherwise."
The king heard it well and feared him for his liegeman's life. Siegfried was sore ashamed; wrathful he waxed and with surpassing strength he set himself against her and tried it again with Lady Brunhild in fearful wise. It thought the king full long, before he conquered her. She pressed his hands, till from her strength the blood gushed forth from out the nails: this irked the hero. Therefore he brought the high-born maiden to the pass that she gave over her unruly will, which she asserted there afore. The king heard all, albeit not a word he spake. Siegfried pressed her against the bed, so that she shrieked aloud. Passing sore his strength did hurt her. She grasped the girdle around her waist and would fain have bound him, but his hand prevented it in such a wise that her limbs and all her body cracked. Thus the strife was parted and she became King Gunther's wife.
The king listened carefully and feared for his knight's life. Siegfried was deeply embarrassed; he became furious and, using his incredible strength, faced Lady Brunhild once more in a terrifying manner. The king thought a long time before he finally overcame her. She gripped his hands so tightly that blood oozed from his nails, which annoyed the hero. So, he forced the high-born maiden to give up her rebellious will, which she had insisted on before. The king heard everything, although he didn’t say a word. Siegfried slammed her against the bed, causing her to scream. His strength hurt her greatly. She grabbed the belt around her waist and tried to bind him, but his hand blocked her in such a way that her limbs and body cracked. Thus, the struggle ended, and she became King Gunther’s wife.
She spake: "Most noble king, pray spare my life. I'll do thee remedy for whatso I have done thee. I'll no longer struggle against thy noble love, for I have learned full well that thou canst make thee master over women."
She said: "Most noble king, please spare my life. I'll make things right for what I've done to you. I won't fight against your noble love anymore, because I've realized that you can easily take charge of women."
Siegfried let the maiden be and stepped away, as though he would do off his clothes. From her hand he drew a golden finger ring, without that she wist it, the noble queen. Thereto he took her girdle, a good stout band. I know not if he did that for very haughtiness. He gave it to his wife and rued it sore in after time.
Siegfried left the maiden alone and stepped back, as if he were going to take off his clothes. He secretly took a golden ring from her hand, without her knowing, the noble queen. Then he took her belt, a strong and sturdy band. I don’t know if he did it out of arrogance. He gave it to his wife and deeply regretted it later on.
Then lay Gunther and the fair maid side by side. He played the lover, as beseemed him, and thus she must needs give over wrath and shame. From his embrace a little pale she grew. Ho, how her great strength failed through love! Now was she no stronger than any other wife. He caressed her lovely form in lover's wise. Had she tried her strength again, what had that availed? All this had Gunther wrought in her by his love. How right lovingly she lay beside him in bridal joy until the dawn of day!
Then Gunther and the lovely maiden lay down side by side. He acted the part of a lover, as was fitting, and so she had to let go of her anger and shame. From his embrace, she turned slightly pale. Oh, how love had weakened her! Now she was no stronger than any other wife. He tenderly caressed her beautiful form as a lover would. If she had tried to regain her strength, what would it have mattered? Gunther had achieved all this through his love. How sweetly she lay next to him in wedding bliss until dawn!
Now was Sir Siegfried gone again to where he was given fair greetings by a woman fashioned fair. He turned aside the question she had thought to put and hid long time from her what he had brought, until she ruled as queen within his land. How little he refused to give her what he should!
Now Sir Siegfried had gone back to where he was warmly welcomed by a beautiful woman. He avoided the question she intended to ask and kept hidden for a long time what he had brought, until she ruled as queen in his land. How little he hesitated to give her what he should!
On the morn the host was far cheerier of mood than he had been afore. Through this the joy of many a noble man was great in all his lands, whom he had bidden to his court, and to whom he proffered much of service. The wedding feast now lasted till the fourteenth day, so that in all this while the sound never died away of the many joys which there they plied. The cost to the king was rated high. The kinsmen of the noble host gave gifts in his honor to the strolling folk, as the king commanded: vesture and ruddy gold, steeds and silver, too. Those who there craved gifts departed hence full merrily. Siegfried, the lord from Netherland, with a thousand of his men, gave quite away the garments they had brought with them to the Rhine and steeds and saddles, too. Full well they wot how to live in lordly wise. Those who would home again thought the time too long till the rich gifts had all been made. Nevermore have guests been better eased. Thus ended the wedding feast; Gunther, the knight, would have it so.
On the morning, the host was in a much better mood than before. Because of this, many noble men across his lands were very happy, as he had invited them to his court and offered them plenty of service. The wedding feast went on for fourteen days, and throughout that time, the sounds of joy never faded. It cost the king a lot. The relatives of the noble host gave gifts in his honor to the wandering people, as the king ordered: clothing, shiny gold, horses, and silver, too. Those who asked for gifts left feeling very cheerful. Siegfried, the lord from Netherland, and his thousand men gave away all the clothes they had brought with them to the Rhine, along with horses and saddles. They knew how to live royally. Those who wanted to go home thought the time was too long until all the generous gifts had been distributed. Guests have never been treated better. Thus, the wedding feast came to an end; Gunther, the knight, wanted it that way.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Chaplet" (O.F. "chaplet", dim. of "chapel", M.H.G. "schapel" or "schapelin") or wreath was the headdress especially of unmarried girls, the hair being worn flowing. It was often of flowers or leaves, but not infrequently of gold and silver. (See Weinhold, "Deutsche Frauen im Mittelalter", i, 387.)
ENDNOTES: (1) "Chaplet" (O.F. "chaplet", diminutive of "chapel", M.H.G. "schapel" or "schapelin") or wreath was the headdress worn primarily by unmarried girls, with their hair flowing. It was often made of flowers or leaves, but was also frequently crafted from gold and silver. (See Weinhold, "Deutsche Frauen im Mittelalter", i, 387.)
ADVENTURE XI. How Siegfried Journeyed Homeward With His Wife.
When now the strangers had all ridden hence, Siegmund's son spake to his fellowship: "We must make us ready, too, to journey to my lands."
When the strangers had all left, Siegmund's son said to his friends, "We need to get ready to travel to my lands as well."
Lief was it to his wife, when the lady heard the tale aright. She spake to her husband: "When shall we ride? I pray thee, make me not haste too sore. First must my brothers share their lands with me."
Lief was happy when his wife heard the story correctly. She said to her husband, "When should we go riding? Please don’t rush me too much. First, my brothers need to divide their land with me."
It was loth to Siegfried, when he heard this from Kriemhild. The lordings hied them to him and all three spake: "Now may ye know, Sir Siegfried, that our true service be ever at your bidding till our death."
It was reluctant for Siegfried when he heard this from Kriemhild. The lords hurried to him, and all three spoke: "Now you should know, Sir Siegfried, that our loyalty will always be at your service until our death."
Then he made obeisance to the knights, as it was proffered him in such kindly wise. "We shall share with you," spake Giselher, the youth, "both land and castles which we do own and whatever broad realms be subject to our power. Of these ye and Kriemhild shall have a goodly share."
Then he bowed to the knights, as it was offered to him in such a friendly way. "We will share with you," said Giselher, the young man, "both the land and castles that we own and whatever vast territories are under our control. You and Kriemhild will receive a generous portion of these."
The son of Siegmund spake to the princes, as he heard and saw the lordings' will: "God grant that ye be ever happy with your heritage and the folk therein. My dear bride can well forego in truth the share which ye would give. There where she shall wear a crown, she shall be mightier than any one alive, and live to see the day. For whatsoever else ye do command, I stand ready to your bidding."
The son of Siegmund spoke to the princes as he understood their desires: "May God bless you with happiness in your legacy and the people in it. My beloved bride can truly do without the portion you wish to give. Where she will wear a crown, she will be more powerful than anyone else alive and will live to see that day. Whatever else you command, I am ready to serve you."
Then spake the Lady Kriemhild: "Though ye forego my heritage, yet is it not so light a matter with the Burgundian men-at-arms. A king might gladly lead them to his land. Forsooth my brothers' hands must share them with me."
Then the Lady Kriemhild said: "Even if you give up my inheritance, it's still not a trivial matter for the Burgundian warriors. A king would gladly take them to his land. Truly, my brothers' hands must share them with me."
Then spake the Lord Gernot: "Now take whomsoever thou dost wish. Thou wilt find here really a one who'll gladly ride with thee. We will give thee a thousand of our thirty hundred warriors; be they thy court retainers."
Then Lord Gernot said, "Now choose whoever you want. You’ll find someone here who will happily ride with you. We will provide you with a thousand of our three thousand warriors; let them be your court attendants."
Kriemhild then gan send for Hagen of Troneg and also for Ortwin, to ask if they and their kinsfolk would be Kriemhild's men.
Kriemhild then sent for Hagen of Troneg and also for Ortwin, to ask if they and their families would be Kriemhild's supporters.
At this Hagen waxed wonderly wroth. He spake: "Certes, Gunther may not give us to any in the world. Let others follow as your train. Ye know full well the custom of the men of Troneg: we must in duty bound remain here with the kings at court. We must serve them longer, whom we till now have followed."
At this, Hagen got really angry. He said, "Surely, Gunther can't hand us over to anyone in the world. Let others follow as your entourage. You all know the customs of the men of Troneg: we are obligated to stay here with the kings at court. We must serve them longer, whom we have followed until now."
They gave that over and made them ready to ride away. Lady Kriemhild gained for herself two and thirty maids and five hundred men, a noble train. The Margrave Eckewart (1) followed Kriemhild hence. They all took leave, both knights and squires and maids and ladies, as was mickle right. Anon they parted with a kiss and voided merrily King Gunther's land. Their kinsmen bare them company far upon the way and bade them pitch their quarters for the night, whereso they listed, throughout the princes' land.
They handed that over and got ready to ride away. Lady Kriemhild gathered thirty-two maids and five hundred men, a noble entourage. The Margrave Eckewart (1) followed Kriemhild from there. They all said their goodbyes—knights, squires, maids, and ladies—just as it was right to do. Soon, they parted with a kiss and happily left King Gunther's territory. Their relatives accompanied them for a good part of the journey and told them to set up camp for the night wherever they wanted, throughout the princes' land.
Then messengers were sent eftsoon to Siegmund, that he might know, and Siegelind, too, that his son would come with Lady Uta's child, Kriemhild, the fair, from Worms beyond the Rhine. Liefer tidings might they never have. "Well for me," spake then Siegmund, "that I have lived to see fair Kriemhild here as queen. My heritage will be thereby enhanced. My son, the noble Siegfried, shall himself be king."
Then messengers were quickly sent to Siegmund to inform him, and also to Siegelind, that his son would be coming with Lady Uta's daughter, Kriemhild, the beautiful, from Worms across the Rhine. They could never have better news. "I’m glad," Siegmund said, "to see the lovely Kriemhild here as queen. This will enhance my legacy. My son, the noble Siegfried, will become king himself."
Then the Lady Siegelind gave much red velvet, silver, and heavy gold; this was the envoy's meed. The tale well liked her, which then she heard. She clad her and her handmaids with care, as did beseem them. Men told who was to come with Siegfried to the land. Anon they bade seats be raised, where he should walk crowned before his friends. King Siegmund's liegemen then rode forth to meet him. Hath any been ever better greeted than the famous hero in Siegmund's land, I know not. Siegelind, the fair, rode forth to meet Kriemhild with many a comely dame (lusty knights did follow on behind), a full day's journey, till one espied the guests. Home-folk and the strangers had little easement till they were come to a spacious castle, hight Xanten, (2) where they later reigned.
Then Lady Siegelind gave a lot of red velvet, silver, and heavy gold; this was the envoy's reward. She really liked the story she heard. She dressed herself and her maidens carefully, just as was fitting for them. People talked about who was coming with Siegfried to the land. Soon they asked for seats to be set up, where he would walk in crowned before his friends. King Siegmund's loyal men then rode out to greet him. Has anyone ever been welcomed better than the famous hero in Siegmund's land? I don't know. The beautiful Siegelind rode out to meet Kriemhild along with many lovely ladies (strong knights followed behind), traveling for a full day's journey until they spotted the guests. The locals and the newcomers had little comfort until they reached a spacious castle called Xanten, where they would later rule.
Smilingly Siegelind and Siegmund kissed Kriemhild many times for joy and Siegfried, too; their sorrow was taken from them. All their fellowship received great welcome. One bade now bring the guests to Siegmund's hall, and lifted the fair young maids down from the palfreys. Many a knight gan serve the comely dames with zeal. However great the feasting at the Rhine was known to be, here one gave the heroes much better robes than they had worn in all their days. Of their splender great marvels might be told. When now they sate in lofty honors and had enow of all, what gold-hued clothes their courtiers wore with precious stones well worked thereon! Thus did Siegelind, the noble queen, purvey them well.
Smiling, Siegelind and Siegmund kissed Kriemhild many times out of joy, and so did Siegfried; their sorrow was lifted. Their entire group received a warm welcome. They then invited the guests to Siegmund's hall and helped the lovely young women down from their steeds. Many knights eagerly attended to the beautiful ladies. While the feasting at the Rhine was famously grand, here they provided the heroes with much finer garments than they had ever worn before. The tales of their splendor could fill volumes. As they sat in high honor, enjoying more than enough of everything, the golden-hued outfits worn by their courtiers, embellished with beautifully crafted precious stones, were truly striking! This was all thanks to Siegelind, the noble queen, who arranged everything beautifully.
Then to his friends Lord Siegmund spake: "I do all Siegfried's kin to wit, that he shall wear my crown before these knights." Those of Netherland heard full fain the tale. He gave his son the crown, the cognizance, (3) and lands, so that he then was master of them all. When that men went to law and Siegfried uttered judgment, that was done in such a wise that men feared sore fair Kriemhild's husband.
Then Lord Siegmund spoke to his friends: "I want all of Siegfried's family to know that he will wear my crown before these knights." The people of the Netherlands were eager to hear the story. He gave his son the crown, the insignia, (3) and land, making him the master of them all. When people went to court and Siegfried gave a judgment, it was done in such a way that everyone greatly feared Kriemhild's husband.
In these high honors Siegfried lived, of a truth, and judged as king, till the tenth year was come, when his fair lady bare a son. This was come to pass after the wish of the kinsmen of the king. They hastened to baptize and name him Gunther for his uncle; nor had he need to be ashamed of this. Should he grow like to his kinsman, he would fare full well. They brought him up with care, as was but due. In these same times the Lady Siegelind died, and men enow made wail when death bereft them of her. Then the child of the noble Uta held withal the power over the lands, which well beseemed such high-born dames. (4)
In these high honors, Siegfried truly lived and ruled like a king until the tenth year arrived, when his beautiful wife gave birth to a son. This happened at the request of the king's relatives. They rushed to baptize him and named him Gunther after his uncle; he had no reason to be ashamed of this name. If he grew up to be like his relative, he would do very well. They raised him with care, as was only right. During this time, Lady Siegelind passed away, and many mourned her loss. Then the child of the noble Uta took control of the lands, which was quite fitting for such highborn ladies. (4)
Now also by the Rhine, as we hear tell, at mighty Gunther's court, in the Burgundian land, Brunhild, the fair, had born a son. For the hero's sake they named him Siegfried. With what great care they bade attend him! The noble Gunther gave him masters who well wot how to bring him up to be a doughty man. Alas, what great loss of kin he later suffered through misfortune!
Now, by the Rhine, as we've heard, at the mighty Gunther's court in the Burgundian land, Brunhild, the beautiful, had given birth to a son. They named him Siegfried for the hero's sake. They took great care to raise him right! The noble Gunther provided him with teachers who really knew how to train him to be a brave man. Unfortunately, he later experienced a great loss of family due to misfortune!
Many tales were told all time, of how right worshipfully the lusty knights dwelt alway in Siegmund's land. Gunther dealt the same with his distinguished kin. The Nibelung land and Schilbung's knights and the goods of both served Siegfried here (none of his kinsmen ever waxed mightier than he). So much the higher rose the mood of the valiant man. The very greatest heard that any hero ever gained, save those who owned it aforetime, the bold man had, the which he had won by his own hand hard by a hill, and for which he did many a lusty knight to death. He had honors to his heart's desire, and had this not been so, yet one must rightly aver of the noble champion, that he was one of the best that ever mounted horse. Men feared his might and justly, too.
Many stories have been told over time about how the brave knights always lived in Siegmund's land. Gunther related too with his distinguished relatives. The Nibelung land and Schilbung's knights and the treasures of both belonged to Siegfried here (none of his relatives ever became stronger than he). The valiant man's spirits rose even higher. The greatest honors that any hero could ever earn, except for those who held them before, were in the hands of the bold man, which he had won through his own strength near a hill, and for which he had killed many a brave knight. He had honors that fulfilled his heart’s desire, and even if that hadn't been the case, one must rightly say of the noble champion that he was one of the best who ever rode a horse. People feared his strength, and rightly so.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Eckewart", see Adventure I, note 15. (2) "Xanten", see Adventure II, note 3. (3) "Cognizance", 'jurisdiction.' (4) "Dames", i.e., Siegelind and Kriemhild.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Eckewart", refer to Adventure I, note 15. (2) "Xanten", refer to Adventure II, note 3. (3) "Cognizance", meaning 'jurisdiction.' (4) "Dames", referring to Siegelind and Kriemhild.
ADVENTURE XII. How Gunther Bade Siegfried To The Feasting.
Now Gunther's wife thought alway: "How haughtily doth Lady Kriemhild bear her! Is not her husband Siegfried our liegeman? Long time now hath he done us little service." This she bare within her heart, but held her peace. It irked her sore that they did make themselves such strangers and that men from Siegfried's land so seldom served her. Fain would she have known from whence this came. She asked the king if it might hap that she should see Kriemhild again. Secretly she spake what she had in mind. The speech like the king but moderately well. "How might we bring them," quoth he, "hither to our land? That were impossible, they live too far away; I dare not ask them this."
Now Gunther's wife always thought, "Why does Lady Kriemhild carry herself so arrogantly? Isn't her husband Siegfried our vassal? He hasn't done much for us in a long time." She kept this to herself but felt very annoyed that they made themselves such strangers and that men from Siegfried's territory rarely served her. She wished she knew the reason behind this. She asked the king if there was any chance she could see Kriemhild again. Secretly, she expressed what was on her mind. The king responded somewhat favorably, "How could we bring them over to our land? That's impossible; they live too far away, and I can’t ask them to do that."
To this Brunhild replied in full crafty wise: "However high and mighty a king's vassal be, yet should he not leave undone whatsoever his lord command him."
To this, Brunhild cleverly replied, "No matter how powerful a king's vassal is, he should not neglect anything his lord commands him to do."
King Gunther smiled when she spake thus. However oft he saw Siegfried, yet did he not count it to him as service.
King Gunther smiled when she spoke like that. No matter how often he saw Siegfried, he didn't see it as a favor.
She spake: "Dear lord, for my sake help me to have Siegfried and thy sister come to this land, that we may see them here. Naught liefer might ever hap to me in truth. Whenso I think on thy sister's courtesie and her well-bred mind, how it delighteth me! How we sate together, when I first became thy wife! She may with honor love bold Siegfried."
She said, "Dear lord, please help me to bring Siegfried and your sister to this land so we can see them here. Nothing would make me happier. Whenever I think of your sister's kindness and her good nature, it brings me joy! Remember how we sat together when I first became your wife? She can love brave Siegfried with honor."
She besought so long, till the king did speak: "Now know that I have never seen more welcome guests. Ye need but beg me gently. I will send my envoys for the twain, that they may come to see us to the Rhine."
She pleaded for so long that the king finally spoke: "Now know that I have never seen more welcome guests. You only need to ask me nicely. I will send my messengers for the two of them, so they can come to see us by the Rhine."
Then spake the queen: "Pray tell me then, when ye are willed to send for them, or in what time our dear kinsmen shall come into the land. Give me also to know whom ye will send thither."
Then the queen said, "Please tell me when you plan to send for them, or when our dear relatives will come to the land. Also, let me know who you will send there."
"That will I," said the prince. "I will let thirty of my men ride thither."
"Of course, I will," said the prince. "I’ll send thirty of my men there."
He had these come before him and bade them carry tidings to Siegfried's land. To their delight Brunhild did give them full lordly vesture.
He called them before him and asked them to bring news to Siegfried's land. To their delight, Brunhild provided them with splendid, noble clothing.
Then spake the king: "Ye knights must say from me all that I bid you to mighty Siegfried and the sister of mine; this must ye not conceal: that no one in the world doth love them more, and beg them both to come to us to the Rhine. For this I and my lady will be ever at your service. At the next Midsummer's Day shall he and his men gaze upon many here, who would fain do them great honor. Give to the king Siegmund my greetings, and say that I and my kinsmen be still his friends, and tell my sister, too, that she fail not to ride to see her kin. Never did feasting beseem her better."
Then the king spoke: "You knights need to tell mighty Siegfried and my sister everything I ask of you; this must not be hidden: no one in the world loves them more, and I urge both of them to come to us at the Rhine. For this, my lady and I will always be at your service. On the next Midsummer's Day, he and his men will see many here who wish to honor them greatly. Give my greetings to King Siegmund and let him know that my family and I are still his friends. Also, tell my sister not to forget to ride out and visit her family. She has never fit in better at a feast."
Brunhild and Uta and whatever ladies were found at court all commended their service to the lovely dames and the many valiant men in Siegfried's land. With the consent of the kinsmen of the king the messengers set forth. They rode as wandering knights; their horses and their trappings had now been brought them. Then they voided the land, for they had haste of the journey, whither they would fare. The king bade guard the messengers well with convoys. In three weeks they came riding into the land, to Nibelung's castle, in the marches of Norway, (1) whither they were sent. Here they found the knight. The mounts of the messengers were weary from the lengthy way.
Brunhild, Uta, and the other ladies at court praised their service to the beautiful women and the many brave men in Siegfried's land. With the king's relatives' approval, the messengers set out. They rode as wandering knights; their horses and gear had been prepared for them. They left the land quickly because they were in a hurry for their journey ahead. The king instructed his guards to protect the messengers closely with escorts. After three weeks, they arrived in Nibelung's castle in the borders of Norway, where they had been sent. There, they found the knight. The messengers' horses were tired from the long journey.
Both Siegfried and Kriemhild were then told that knights were come, who wore such clothes as men were wont to wear at Burgundy. She sprang from a couch on which she lay to rest and bade a maiden hie her to the window. In the court she saw bold Gere standing, him and the fellowship that had been sent thither. What joyful things she there found against her sorrow of heart! She spake to the king: "Now behold where they stand, who walk in the court with the sturdy Gere, whom my brother sendeth us adown the Rhine."
Both Siegfried and Kriemhild were then informed that knights had arrived, dressed in the clothing typical of men from Burgundy. She jumped up from the couch where she was resting and asked a maid to hurry to the window. In the courtyard, she saw the brave Gere standing there, along with the group that had been sent. What a wonderful sight it was to ease her heavy heart! She spoke to the king: "Look over there at those who are in the courtyard with the strong Gere, sent to us by my brother down the Rhine."
Spake Then the valiant Siegfried: "They be welcome to us."
Then the brave Siegfried said, "They are welcome to us."
All the courtiers ran to where one saw them. Each of them in turn then spake full kindly, as best he could to the envoys. Siegmund, the lord, was right blithe of their coming. Then Gere and his men were lodged and men bade take their steeds in charge. The messengers then went hence to where Lord Siegfried sate by Kriemhild. This they did, for they had leave to go to court. The host and his lady rose from their seats at once and greeted well Gere of the Burgundian land with his fellowship, Gunther's liegemen. One bade the mighty Gere go and sit him down.
All the courtiers rushed to where they could see them. Each one then spoke kindly, doing their best to welcome the envoys. Siegmund, the lord, was really pleased with their arrival. Then Gere and his men were given accommodations, and people were asked to take care of their horses. The messengers then went to where Lord Siegfried was sitting with Kriemhild. They did this since they had permission to go to court. The host and his lady stood up at once and warmly greeted Gere from Burgundy and his companions, Gunther's followers. Someone invited the mighty Gere to sit down.
"Permit us first to give our message, afore we take our seats; let us way-worn strangers stand the while. We be come to tell you tidings which Gunther and Brunhild, with whom all things stand well, have sent you, and also what Lady Uta, your mother, sendeth. Giselher, the youth, and Sir Gernot, too, and your dearest kin, they have sent us hither and commend their service to you from out the Burgundian land."
"First, let us share our message before we sit down; let's allow these weary travelers to stand for a moment. We’ve come to deliver news from Gunther and Brunhild, who are both doing well, and also what your mother, Lady Uta, has sent. Giselher, the young one, and Sir Gernot, along with your beloved family, have sent us here and send their regards from the Burgundian land."
"Now God requite them," quoth Siegfried; "I trow them much troth and good, as one should to kinsfolk; their sister doth the same. Ye must tell us more, whether our dear friends at home be of good cheer? Since we have been parted from them, hath any done amiss to my lady's kinsmen? That ye must let me know. If so, I'll ever help them bear it in duty bound, until their foes must rue my service."
"Now may God repay them," said Siegfried; "I trust them completely and wish them well, just as one should for family; their sister feels the same. You need to tell us more about whether our dear friends back home are doing okay. Since we’ve been apart from them, has anyone wronged my lady’s relatives? You have to let me know. If that’s the case, I’ll always stand by them and help them out of duty, until their enemies regret crossing me."
Then spake the Margrave Gere, a right good knight: "They are in every virtue of such right high mood, that they do bid you to a feasting by the Rhine. They would fain see you, as ye may not doubt, and they do beg my lady that she come with you, when the winter hath taken an end. They would see you before the next Midsummer's Day."
Then spoke Margrave Gere, a truly good knight: "They are in such a high spirit and full of virtue that they invite you to a feast by the Rhine. They would love to see you, as you can’t doubt, and they are asking my lady to come with you when winter is over. They want to see you before the next Midsummer's Day."
Quoth the stalwart Siegfried: "That might hardly hap."
Said the brave Siegfried: "That probably won't happen."
Then answered Gere from the Burgundian land: "Your mother Uta, Gernot, and Giselher have charged you, that ye refuse them not. I hear daily wail, that ye do live so far away. My Lady Brunhild and all her maids be fain of the tidings, if that might be that they should see you again; this would raise their spirits high." These tidings thought fair Kriemhild good.
Then Gere from Burgundy responded, "Your mother Uta, Gernot, and Giselher have asked you not to turn them down. I hear daily cries about how far away you live. My Lady Brunhild and all her maidens would be thrilled to hear news of you; if they could see you again, it would lift their spirits." Kriemhild thought this news was welcome.
Gere was of their kin; the host bade him be seated and had wine poured out for the guests; no longer did they tarry. Now Siegmund was come to where he saw the messengers. The lord said to the Burgundians in friendly wise: "Be welcome, Sir Knights, ye men of Gunther. Sith now Siegfried, my son, hath won Kriemhild to wife, one should see you more often here in this our land, if ye would show your kinship."
Gere was one of their family; the host invited him to sit down and had wine served for the guests; they didn’t delay any longer. Now Siegmund had arrived at the place where he saw the messengers. The lord spoke to the Burgundians in a friendly manner: "Welcome, Sir Knights, men of Gunther. Since Siegfried, my son, has taken Kriemhild as his wife, we should see you here more often in our land, if you want to show your family ties."
They answered that they would gladly come, when so he would. Of their weariness they were cased with joyous pastime. Men bade the messengers be seated and brought them food, of which Siegfried had them given great store. They must needs stay there full nine days, till at last the doughty knights made plaint, that they durst not ride again to their land.
They said they would be happy to come whenever he wanted. Despite their weariness, they were wrapped up in joyful entertainment. The men told the messengers to take a seat and brought them plenty of food, which Siegfried ensured was of great abundance. They ended up staying there for a full nine days, until eventually the brave knights complained that they couldn’t ride back to their own land.
Meantime king Siegfried had sent to fetch his friends; he asked them what they counseled, whether or no they should to the Rhine. "My kinsman Gunther and his kin have sent to fetch me for a feasting. Now I would go full gladly, but that his land doth lie too far away. They beg Kriemhild, too, that she journey with me. Now advise, dear friends, in what manner she shall ride thither. Though I must harry for them through thirty lands, yet would Siegfried's arm fain serve them there."
Meanwhile, King Siegfried had sent for his friends; he asked them what they thought: should they go to the Rhine or not? "My cousin Gunther and his family have invited me for a feast. I would love to go,
Then spake his warriors: "And ye be minded to journey to the feasting, we will advise what ye must do. Ye should ride to the Rhine with a thousand knights, then can ye stand with worship there in Burgundy land."
Then his warriors said, "If you plan to go to the feast, we’ll tell you what you need to do. You should ride to the Rhine with a thousand knights, and then you can stand with honor there in Burgundy."
Up spake then Lord Siegmund of Netherland: "Will ye to the feasting, why make ye it not known to me? If ye scorn it not, I will ride thither with you and will take a hundred knights, wherewith to swell your band."
Up spoke then Lord Siegmund of Netherland: "If you're going to the feast, why didn't you tell me? If you don’t mind, I’ll ride there with you and bring a hundred knights to strengthen your group."
"And will ye ride with us, dear father mine," quoth brave Siegfried, "glad shall I be of that. Within a twelfth night I will quit my lands."
"And will you ride with us, my dear father," said brave Siegfried, "I would be happy about that. In a fortnight, I will leave my lands."
All who craved it were given steeds and vesture, too.
All who desired it were given horses and clothing, too.
Since now the noble king was minded for the journey, men bade the good and speedy envoys ride again. He sent word to his wife's kindred on the Rhine, that he would full fain be at their feasting. Siegfried and Kriemhild, as the tale doth tell, gave the messengers such store of gifts that their horses could not bear them to their native land. A wealthy man was he. They drove their sturdy sumpters merrily along.
Since the noble king was set on the journey, people urged the good and speedy messengers to ride out again. He sent word to his wife's family along the Rhine that he really wanted to join their feast. Siegfried and Kriemhild, as the story goes, gave the messengers so many gifts that their horses could barely carry them back home. He was a wealthy man. They happily drove their sturdy pack animals along.
Siegfried and Siegmund arrayed their men. Eckewart, the margrave, that very hour bade seek out ladies' robes, the best that were at hand or might be found throughout all Siegfried's land. Men gan prepare the saddles and the shields. To knights and ladies who should go hence with him was given whatso they would, so that they wanted naught. He brought to his kinsfolk many a lordly stranger.
Siegfried and Siegmund organized their troops. That very hour, Eckewart, the margrave, instructed them to find ladies' gowns, the finest available in all of Siegfried's territory. The men began preparing the saddles and shields. Knights and ladies who would accompany him were given whatever they desired, so they lacked nothing. He introduced many noble outsiders to his family.
The messengers pricked fast upon their homeward way. Now was Gere, the knight, come to Burgundy and was greeted fair. Then they dismounted from their steeds and from the nags in front of Gunther's hall. Young and old did hie them, as people do, to ask the tidings. Quoth the good knight: "When I tell them to the king, thou be at hand a hear."
The messengers quickly made their way home. Now Gere, the knight, had arrived in Burgundy and was welcomed warmly. Then they got off their horses in front of Gunther's hall. People of all ages rushed over to ask for news. The good knight said, "When I tell the king, you should be here to hear it."
With his fellowship he went to where he found King Gunther. For very joy the king sprang from his seat. Fair Brunhild cried them mercy, that they were come so quick. Gunther spake to the envoys: "How fareth Siegfried, from whom so much of gladness hath happed to me?"
With his fellowship, he went to where he found King Gunther. Out of pure joy, the king jumped up from his seat. Beautiful Brunhild thanked them for coming so quickly. Gunther spoke to the envoys: "How is Siegfried, from whom so much happiness has come to me?"
Brave Gere spake: "He blushed for joy, he and your sister; no truer tidings did ever any man send to friends, than the Lord Siegfried and his father, too, have sent to you."
Brave Gere said, "He blushed with joy, both he and your sister; no truer news has any man ever sent to friends than what Lord Siegfried and his father have sent to you."
Then to the margrave spake the noble queen: "Now tell me, cometh Kriemhild to us? Hath the fair still kept the graces which she knew how to use?"
Then the noble queen spoke to the margrave: "Now tell me, is Kriemhild coming to us? Has the beautiful one still retained the charms she knew how to use?"
"She cometh to you surely," quoth Gere, the knight.
"She is definitely coming to you," said Gere, the knight.
Then Uta bade the messenger come quickly to her. By her question one might note full well that she was fain to hear if Kriemhild still were well. He told how he had found her and that she would shortly come. Nor were the gifts concealed by them at court, which Siegfried gave them, gold and vesture; these they brought for the vassals of the three kings to see. For their passing great bounty men gave them thanks.
Then Uta told the messenger to come to her quickly. From her question, it was clear that she was eager to hear if Kriemhild was still doing well. He shared how he had found her and that she would be coming soon. The gifts that Siegfried had given them—gold and clothing—were not hidden at court; they brought them for the vassals of the three kings to see. Because of their great generosity, people thanked them.
"He may lightly give great gifts," spake then Hagen; "he could not squander all his wealth, and he should live for aye. His hand hath closed upon the hoard of the Nibelungs. Ho, let him only come to the Burgundian land!"
"He might easily give out big gifts," Hagen said then; "he can't waste all his wealth, and he should live forever. His hand has secured the treasure of the Nibelungs. Come on, let him just arrive in the Burgundian land!"
All the courtiers were glad that they should come. Early and late the men of the three kings were busy. Many benches they gan raise for the folk. The valiant Hunolt and the knight Sindolt had little rest. All time they had to oversee the stewards and the butlers and raise many a bench. Ortwin helped them, too, at this, and Gunther said them thanks. Rumolt, the master cook, how well he ruled his underlings! Ho, how many a broad kettle, pot, and pan they had! They made ready the vitaille for those who were coming to the land.
All the courtiers were happy that they were coming. Day and night, the men of the three kings were busy. They set up many benches for the guests. The brave Hunolt and the knight Sindolt hardly had a moment to rest. They were always overseeing the stewards and the butlers and setting up more benches. Ortwin helped them with this as well, and Gunther thanked them. Rumolt, the head cook, managed his team so well! Oh, how many large kettles, pots, and pans they had! They prepared the food for those arriving in the land.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Norway". The interpolated character of the Adventures XI to XIII, which are not found in the earlier versions, is shown by the confusion in the location of Siegfried's court. The poet has forgotten that Xanten is his capital, and locates it in Norway. No mention is made, however, of the messengers crossing the sea; on the contrary, Kriemhild speaks of their being sent down the Rhine.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Norway". The added sections in Adventures XI to XIII, which aren't in the earlier versions, show the mix-up regarding the location of Siegfried's court. The poet forgot that Xanten is his capital and placed it in Norway instead. However, there’s no mention of the messengers crossing the sea; instead, Kriemhild says they were sent down the Rhine.
ADVENTURE XIII. How They Journeyed To The Feasting.
Let us now take leave of all their bustling, and tell how Lady Kriemhild and her maidens journeyed from the Nibelung land down toward the Rhine. Never did sumpters bear so much lordly raiment. They made ready for the way full many traveling chests. Then Siegfried, the knight, and the queen as well, rode forth with their friends to where they had hope of joys. Later it sped them all to their great harm. They left Siegfried's little child, Kriemhild's son, at home. That must needs be. Great grief befell him through their journey to the court. The bairn never saw his father and his mother more. With them, too, there rode Lord Siegmund. Had he known aright how he would fare at the feasting, no whit of it would he have seen. No greater woe might ever hap to him in loving friends.
Let’s now move away from all the fuss and share how Lady Kriemhild and her maidens traveled from the Nibelung land down to the Rhine. Never had pack animals carried such fine clothing. They prepared many travel trunks for the journey. Then Siegfried, the knight, along with the queen, rode off with their friends toward what they hoped would be joyous times. Later, it led to great misfortune for all of them. They left Siegfried's young child, Kriemhild's son, at home. It had to be done. A deep sorrow struck him because of their journey to the court. The child would never see his father and mother again. Accompanying them was Lord Siegmund. If he had known what awaited him at the feast, he would have avoided it altogether. No greater sorrow could ever come to him among dear friends.
Messengers were sent ahead, who told the tale. Then with a stately band there rode to meet them many of Uta's kith and Gunther's liegemen. The host gan bestir him for his guests. He went to where Brunhild sate and asked: "How did my sister greet you when ye came to our land? In like manner must ye greet Siegfried's wife."
Messengers were sent ahead to share the news. Then, a dignified group rode out to meet them, consisting of many of Uta's kin and Gunther's followers. The host began to prepare for his guests. He approached where Brunhild was seated and asked, "How did my sister welcome you when you arrived in our territory? In the same way, you must greet Siegfried's wife."
"That will I gladly," quoth she, "for I have good cause to be her friend."
"Sure, I'd be happy to," she said, "because I have a good reason to be her friend."
The mighty king spake further: "They come to us early on the morrow; if ye would greet them, set quickly to work, that we abide them not within the castle. At no time have such welcome guests ever come to see me."
The mighty king said: "They will arrive early tomorrow; if you want to greet them, get to work quickly so we don’t have them waiting in the castle. I’ve never had such welcome guests come to see me."
At once she bade her maids and ladies hunt out goodly raiment, the best they had, the which her train should wear before the guests. One may lightly say, they did this gladly. Gunther's men hasted also for to serve them, and around him the host did gather all his knights. Then the queen rode forth in princely wise and mickle greeting of the welcome guests was done. With what great joy did they receive them! It thought them as though Lady Kriemhild had not greeted Lady Brunhild so fair in the Burgundian land. Those who had never seen her became acquaint with lofty mood.
Immediately, she instructed her maids and ladies to find the finest clothing they had for her entourage to wear in front of the guests. It’s safe to say they did this happily. Gunther's men hurried to assist them, and the host gathered all his knights around him. Then the queen rode out in a royal manner, and there was a warm welcome for the guests. They received them with great joy! It seemed to them that Lady Kriemhild hadn’t welcomed Lady Brunhild so graciously in the land of the Burgundians. Those who had never seen her got to know her elevated demeanor.
Now was Siegfried come with his liegemen. One saw the heroes wending to and fro upon the plain in unwieldy bands. None might guard him there against the jostling and the dust.
Now Siegfried had arrived with his loyal followers. One could see the heroes moving around on the plain in large, awkward groups. No one could protect him there from the crowding and the dust.
When that the ruler of the land spied Siegfried and Siegmund, how lovingly he spake: "Now be ye full welcome to me and all my friends; we shall be of good cheer because of this your journey to our court."
When the ruler of the land saw Siegfried and Siegmund, he said warmly, "You are both very welcome to me and all my friends; we will be in good spirits because of your journey to our court."
"Now God requite you," quoth Siegmund, the honor-seeking man; "sith my son Siegfried won you to kinsman, my heart hath urged that I should go to see you."
"Now may God reward you," said Siegmund, the honor-seeking man; "since my son Siegfried has made you family, my heart has compelled me to come and see you."
At this spake Gunther: "Now hath joy happed to me thereby."
At this, Gunther said: "Now joy has come to me because of this."
Siegfried was received with much great worship as beseemed him; none bare him hatred there. Giselher and Gernot helped thereby with great courtesie. I ween, never have guests been greeted in such goodly wise.
Siegfried was welcomed with great respect as befitted him; no one harbored any resentment towards him. Giselher and Gernot assisted with much courtesy. I believe, guests have never been greeted in such a fine manner.
Then the wives of the two kings drew near each other. Emptied were many saddles, as fair ladies were lifted down by knightly hands upon the sward. How busy were those who gladly served the dames! The lovely women now drew near each other, and many a knight was blithe, that such fair greeting passed between the twain. Then one saw great press of warriors standing by the high-born maids. The lordly meiny (1) grasped each other by the hand. Much courteous bowing was seen and loving kisses from fair-fashioned dames. This liked well Gunther's and Siegfried's liegemen for to see. They bided now no longer, but rode to town. The host bade show his guests full well that all were fain to see them in the Burgundian land. Many a royal joust took place before the high-born maids. Hagen of Troneg and Ortwin, too, proved full well their prowess. One durst not leave undone whatso they would command. Much service was rendered by them to the welcome guests. Many shields were heard resound from thrusts and blows before the castle gate. The host and his guests tarried long time without, or ever they came within. Forsooth the hours passed quickly for them with their sports. Merrily they rode before the royal palace. Many cunning housings (2) of good cloth and well cut were seen hanging on either side from the saddles of the fair-fashioned dames.
Then the wives of the two kings approached each other. Many saddles were empty as noble ladies were helped down by chivalrous knights onto the grass. Those who were eager to serve the ladies were very busy! The beautiful women drew closer together, and many knights were happy to see such a lovely greeting exchanged between the two. There was a great crowd of warriors standing by the noble maidens. The noble followers shook hands with one another. Courteous bows and loving kisses were exchanged among the elegantly dressed ladies. Gunther's and Siegfried's vassals enjoyed watching this. They couldn’t wait any longer and rode into town. The host made sure to show his guests a warm welcome, eager for them to see the Burgundian lands. Many royal jousts took place before the noble ladies. Hagen of Troneg and Ortwin also showcased their skills well. No one dared to skip anything they were asked to do. They provided plenty of service for their welcomed guests. The sounds of shields clashing and blows could be heard before the castle gate. The host and his guests lingered outside for a long time before they went in. Indeed, the hours flew by for them as they engaged in their sports. Joyfully, they rode in front of the royal palace. Many beautifully crafted cloths and well-made trappings could be seen hanging on either side from the saddles of the elegantly dressed ladies.
Then came Gunther's liegemen. Men bade lead the strangers quickly to their easement. At times one saw Brunhild glance at Lady Kriemhild, who was passing fair enow. Her color against the gold gave back the gleam in lovely wise. On every side in Worms one heard the courtiers shout. Gunther bade Dankwart, his marshal, have them in his care, who then gan lodge the retinue in goodly wise. One let them eat within and eke without. Never were stranger guests better cared for. Men gave them gladly all they craved; so rich was the king, that not a wish was there denied. Men served them in friendly wise without all hate. The host now took his seat at table with his guests. One bade Siegfried be seated where he sate afore. Then many a stately man went with him to the seats. Twelve hundred warriors in sooth did sit at his round table. Brunhild thought her that a vassal could not be mightier than he; yet she was still so friendly to him that she did not wish his death.
Then Gunther's knights arrived. The men quickly led the visitors to their accommodations. Now and then, Brunhild glanced at Lady Kriemhild, who was quite beautiful. The contrast of her complexion against the gold created a lovely glow. All around Worms, the courtiers were shouting. Gunther instructed Dankwart, his marshal, to take care of them, who then proceeded to accommodate the entourage in a fine manner. They were provided meals both indoors and outdoors. Never had stranger guests been treated better. They eagerly received everything they desired; the king was so wealthy that no request was denied. They were served in a friendly manner, free of any hostility. The host then took his place at the table with his guests. Siegfried was invited to sit where he had before. Many dignified men accompanied him to the seats. Indeed, twelve hundred warriors were seated at his round table. Brunhild thought that no vassal could be mightier than he; still, she was so friendly toward him that she did not wish for his death.
On an evening when the king was seated at the board, many costly robes were wet with wine, as the butlers hied them to the tables. Full service was given there with mickle zeal. As hath long been the wont at feasts, men bade the ladies and the maids be given fair lodgment. From wherever they were come, the host bare them right good will. One gave them all enow with goodly honors.
On an evening when the king was sitting at the table, many expensive robes got soaked with wine as the butlers hurried to serve. They provided full service with great enthusiasm. As has been customary at feasts, the men asked that the ladies and maids be given comfortable accommodations. From wherever they came, the host welcomed them warmly. They were all treated with ample respect and honors.
When the night had an end and the day appeared, many a precious stone from the sumpter chests sparkled on goodly weeds, as they were touched by woman's hand. Many a lordly robe was taken forth. Or ever the day had fully dawned, many knights and squires came out before the hall. Then rose a merry rout before the early mass, which was sung for the king. There young heroes rode so well that the king did cry them mercy. Many a trumpet rang out passing loud, and the noise of drums and flutes did grow so great that the broad town of Worms reechoed with the sound. The high-mettled heroes horsed them everywhere. Then there rose in the land high knightly play from many a doughty champion; one saw a great rout of them whose youthful hearts beat high, and many a dapper knight and a good stood armed with shield. At the easements sate the high-born dames and many comely maids, decked out in brave attire. They watched the pastimes of the many valiant men. The host himself gan tilt there with his friends. Thus they passed the time, the which seemed aught but long.
When night ended and day began, many precious stones from the supply chests sparkled on fine fabrics, touched by a woman's hand. Many lavish robes were brought out. Before the day fully dawned, knights and squires gathered in front of the hall. A lively scene unfolded before the early mass sung for the king. There, young heroes rode so skillfully that the king praised them. Trumpets blared loudly, and the sound of drums and flutes grew so intense that it echoed throughout the town of Worms. The spirited heroes rode everywhere. Then, high-spirited knightly contests arose from many brave champions; one could see a great throng of them with youthful hearts beating strongly, and many sharp-dressed knights stood ready with shields. In the windows sat noble ladies and many lovely young women, dressed in fine clothing. They watched the many brave men's activities. The host himself joined in the festivities with his friends. Thus, they enjoyed their time, which felt anything but long.
Then from the dome was heard the sound of many bells. The palfreys came, the ladies rode away; but many a bold man followed the noble queens. They alighted on the green before the minster; Brunhild was still friendly to her guests. Wearing crowns, they entered the spacious church. Later their love was parted, which caused great hate. When they had heard the mass, they rode away again with many honors and were soon seen going merrily to table. Their pleasure at the feasting did not flag until the eleventh day.
Then from the dome, the sound of many bells rang out. The horses arrived, the ladies rode off, but many brave men followed the noble queens. They got down on the green in front of the cathedral; Brunhild was still welcoming to her guests. Wearing crowns, they entered the large church. Later, their love was separated, which caused a lot of resentment. After they had attended the mass, they rode away again with many honors and were soon seen happily going to the banquet. Their enjoyment of the feast didn’t wane until the eleventh day.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Meiny" (M.E. "meiny", O.F. "mesnee"), 'courtiers', 'serving folk'. (2) "Housings", 'saddle cloths'.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Meiny" (M.E. "meiny", O.F. "mesnee"), 'courtiers', 'serving people'. (2) "Housings", 'saddle blankets'.
ADVENTURE XIV. How The Queens Reviled Each Other.
On a day before the vesper tide a great turmoil arose, which many knights made in the court, where they plied their knightly sports for pastime's sake, and a great throng of men and women hasted there to gaze. The royal queens had sat them down together and talked of two worshipful knights.
On a day before the evening tide, a great commotion broke out, as many knights gathered in the court, where they practiced their knightly skills for entertainment, and a large crowd of men and women hurried there to watch. The royal queens had sat together and were discussing two noble knights.
Then spake the fair Kriemhild: "I have a husband who by right should rule over all these kingdoms."
Then spoke the beautiful Kriemhild: "I have a husband who rightfully should rule over all these kingdoms."
Quoth Lady Brunhild: "How might that be? If none other lived but he and thou, then might these kingdoms own his sway, but the while Gunther liveth, this may never hap."
Quoth Lady Brunhild: "How could that be? If it were just him and you alive, then these kingdoms could belong to him, but as long as Gunther is alive, that will never happen."
Kriemhild replied: "Now dost thou see, how he standeth, how right royally he walketh before the knights, as the moon doth before the stars? Therefore must I needs be merry of mood."
Kriemhild replied, "Now you see how he stands, how confidently he walks before the knights, like the moon among the stars? That's why I must be in a good mood."
Said Lady Brunhild: "However stately be thy husband, howso worthy and fair, yet must thou grant the palm to Knight Gunther, the noble brother of thine. Know of a truth, he must be placed above all kings."
Said Lady Brunhild: "No matter how grand your husband may be, or how deserving and attractive, you must give the credit to Knight Gunther, your noble brother. Truly, he deserves to be regarded above all kings."
Then Kriemhild spake again: "So doughty is my husband, that I have not lauded him without good cause. His worship is great in many things. Dost thou believe it, Brunhild, he is easily Gunther's peer."
Then Kriemhild spoke again: "My husband is so brave that I haven't praised him without reason. He excels in many ways. Do you believe it, Brunhild? He is easily Gunther's equal."
"Forsooth thou must not take it amiss of me, Kriemhild, for I have not spoken thus without good reason. I heard them both aver, when I saw them first of all, and the king was victor against me in the games, and when he won my love in such knightly wise, that he was liegeman to the king, and Siegfried himself declared the same. I hold him therefore as my vassal, sith I heard him speak thus himself."
"For sure you shouldn't take it the wrong way, Kriemhild, because I haven't said this without good reason. I heard them both say it when I first saw them; the king beat me in the games, and when he won my love in such a knightly manner, he was loyal to the king, and Siegfried himself confirmed it. I consider him my vassal, since I heard him say it himself."
Then spake fair Kriemhild: "Ill had I then sped. How could my noble brothers have so wrought, that I should be a mere vassal's bride? Therefore I do beseech thee, Brunhild, in friendly wise, that for my sake thou kindly leave off this speech."
Then beautiful Kriemhild said, "I had such bad luck then. How could my noble brothers have arranged it so that I ended up as just a vassal's bride? So I ask you, Brunhild, kindly and as a friend, to stop this talk for my sake."
"I'll not leave it off," quoth the king's wife. "Why should I give up so many a knight, who with the warrior doth owe us service?"
"I won't stop," said the king's wife. "Why should I give up so many knights who owe us their service along with the warrior?"
Kriemhild, the passing fair, waxed wroth out of wit. "Thou must forego that ho ever do you a vassal's service; he is worthier than my brother Gunther, the full noble man. Thou must retract what I have heard thee say. Certes, it wondereth me, sith he be thy vassal and thou hast so much power over us twain, why he hath rendered thee no tribute so long a time. By right I should be spared thy overweening pride."
Kriemhild, incredibly beautiful, got really angry. "You have to forget about doing any service for him; he is more worthy than my brother Gunther, the truly noble man. You need to take back what I heard you say. Honestly, I’m surprised that since he’s your vassal and you have so much power over both of us, he hasn’t given you any tribute for such a long time. I should be spared from your excessive pride."
"Thou bedrest thee too high," spake the king's wife. "I would fain see whether men will hold thee in such high honor as they do me."
"You're resting too high," said the king's wife. "I want to see if people will hold you in such high regard as they do me."
The ladies both grew wonderly wroth of mood. Then spake the Lady Kriemhild: "This must now hap. Sith thou hast declared my husband for thy liegeman, now must the men of the two kings perceive to-day whether I durst walk before the queen to church. Thou must see to-day that I am noble and free and that my husband is worthier than thine; nor will I myself be taxed therewith. Thou shalt mark to-day how thy liegewoman goeth to court before the knights of the Burgundian land. I myself shall be more worshipful than any queen was known to be, who ever wore a crown." Great hate enow rose then betwixt the ladies.
The two ladies became incredibly angry. Then Lady Kriemhild said, "This must happen now. Since you have declared my husband to be your vassal, today the men of both kings will see whether I dare to walk in front of the queen to church. You must see today that I am noble and free, and that my husband is worthier than yours; I won’t accept any blame for this. You shall witness today how your vassal goes to court before the knights of the Burgundian land. I will be more respected than any queen who has ever worn a crown." A great deal of hatred rose between the two ladies.
Then Brunhild answered: "Wilt thou not be a liegewoman of mine, so must thou sunder thee with thy ladies from my train when that we go to church."
Then Brunhild answered, "If you don’t want to be my vassal, you must separate yourself from your ladies when we go to church."
To this Kriemhild replied: "In faith that shall be done."
To this, Kriemhild replied, "I promise that will be done."
"Now array you, my maids," spake Siegfried's wife. "I must be here without reproach. Let this be seen to-day, and ye do have rich weeds. Brunhild shall fain deny what she hath here averted."
"Now get ready, my ladies," said Siegfried's wife. "I need to be here without any shame. Let this be seen today, and you all wear expensive dresses. Brunhild will surely deny what she has avoided here."
They needed not much bidding, but sought rich robes and many a dame and maid attired her well. Then the wife of the noble king went forth with her train. Fair Kriemhild, too, was well arrayed and three and forty maidens with her, whom she had brought hither to the Rhine. They wore bright vesture wrought in Araby, and thus the fair-fashioned maids betook them to the minster. All Siegfried's men awaited them before the house. The folk had marvel whence it chanced that the queens were seen thus sundered, so that they did not walk together as afore. From this did many a warrior later suffer dire distress. Here before the minster stood Gunther's wife, while many a good knight had pastime with the comely dames whom they there espied.
They didn't need much convincing; they just went for fancy dresses, and many women and maids dressed them beautifully. Then the wife of the noble king stepped out with her entourage. Fair Kriemhild was also elegantly dressed, accompanied by forty-three maidens she had brought to the Rhine. They wore brightly colored garments made in Arabia, and the lovely young women made their way to the church. All of Siegfried's men were waiting for them outside the building. People were curious about why the queens were seen apart, not walking together as they used to. This caused many warriors great distress later on. There before the church stood Gunther's wife, while many good knights enjoyed themselves with the beautiful ladies they spotted there.
Then came the Lady Kriemhild with a large and noble train. Whatever kind of clothes the daughters of noble knights have ever worn, these were but the wind against her retinue. She was so rich in goods, that what the wives of thirty kings could not purvey, that Kriemhild did. An' one would wish to, yet he could not aver that men had ever seen such costly dresses as at this time her fair-fashioned maidens wore. Kriemhild had not done it, save to anger Brunhild. They met before the spacious minster. Through her great hate the mistress of the house in evil wise bade Kriemhild stand: "Forsooth no vassaless should ever walk before the queen."
Then Lady Kriemhild arrived with a large and impressive entourage. No matter what kind of clothes the daughters of noble knights had ever worn, they paled in comparison to her retinue. She was so wealthy that what the wives of thirty kings couldn't provide, Kriemhild did. It would be hard to claim that anyone had ever seen such expensive dresses as those worn by her elegantly dressed maidens at that time. Kriemhild didn't do this just for show; it was to provoke Brunhild. They met outside the grand cathedral. Out of her deep hatred, Brunhild spitefully ordered Kriemhild to stand aside: "Surely no vassaless should ever walk before the queen."
Then spake fair Kriemhild (angry was her mood): "Couldst thou have held thy peace, 'twere well for thee. Thou hast disgraced thee and the fair body of thine. How might a vassal's leman (1) ever be the wife of any king?"
Then spoke beautiful Kriemhild (angry was her mood): "If you could have kept quiet, it would have been better for you. You've brought shame upon yourself and your noble self. How could a vassal's mistress (1) ever be the wife of any king?"
"Whom callest thou here leman?" spake the queen.
"Who are you calling here, lover?" said the queen.
"That call I thee," quoth Kriemhild. "Thy fair person was first caressed by Siegfried, my dear husband. Certes, it was not my brother who won thy maidhood. Whither could thy wits have wandered? It was an evil trick. Wherefore didst thou let him love thee, sith he be thy vassal? I hear thee make plaint without good cause," quoth Kriemhild.
"That call I you," said Kriemhild. "Your handsome figure was first cherished by Siegfried, my dear husband. Surely, it wasn’t my brother who took your virginity. Where could your mind have gone? It was a cruel trick. Why did you let him love you, since he is your vassal? I hear you complaining without good reason," said Kriemhild.
"I' faith," spake then Brunhild, "Gunther shall hear of this."
"I swear," said Brunhild, "Gunther will hear about this."
"What is that to me?" said Kriemhild. "Thy pride hath bewrayed thee. With words thou hast claimed me for thy service. Know, by my troth, it will ever grieve me, for I shall be no more thy faithful friend."
"What does that mean to me?" said Kriemhild. "Your pride has betrayed you. With your words, you've claimed me for your service. Know that, I swear, it will always distress me, for I will no longer be your loyal friend."
Then Brunhild wept. Kriemhild delayed no longer, but entered the minster with her train before the queen. Thus there rose great hatred, from which bright eyes grew dim and moist.
Then Brunhild cried. Kriemhild didn't wait any longer and went into the church with her entourage in front of the queen. This caused a deep hatred to arise, making bright eyes dull and wet.
Whatso men did or sang to God's service there, the time seemed far too long for Brunhild, for she was sad of heart and mood. Many a brave knight and a good must later rue this day. Brunhild with her ladies now went forth and stopped before the minster. Her-thought: "Kriemhild must tell me more of what this word-shrewd woman hath so loudly charged me. Hath Siegfried made boast of this, 'twill cost his life."
What the men did or sang for God's service, the time felt really long for Brunhild because she was feeling down. Many brave knights and good men would later regret this day. Brunhild and her ladies now went out and stopped in front of the church. She thought, "Kriemhild needs to tell me more about what this clever woman accused me of so loudly. If Siegfried has bragged about this, it will cost him his life."
Now the noble Kriemhild came with many a valiant liegeman. Lady Brunhild spake: "Stand still a while. Ye have declared me for a leman, that must ye let be seen. Know, that through thy speech, I have fared full ill."
Now the noble Kriemhild arrived with many brave followers. Lady Brunhild said, "Hold on a moment. You’ve called me a lover, and that needs to be proven. Know that because of what you said, I have suffered greatly."
Then spake the Lady Kriemhild: "Ye should have let me pass. I'll prove it by the ring of gold I have upon my hand, and which my lover brought me when he first lay at your side."
Then spoke Lady Kriemhild: "You should have let me pass. I'll prove it by the gold ring I have on my hand, which my lover gave me when he first lay beside you."
Brunhild had never seen so ill a day. She spake: "This costly hoop of gold was stolen from me, and hath been hid full long a time from me in evil wise. I'll find out yet who hath ta'en it from me."
Brunhild had never seen such a terrible day. She said, "This expensive gold ring was stolen from me, and it has been hidden from me for a long time in a bad way. I will find out who took it from me."
Both ladies now had fallen into grievous wrath.
Both ladies were now filled with anger.
Kriemhild replied: "I'll not be called a thief. Thou hadst done better to have held thy peace, an' thou hold thine honor dear. I'll prove it by the girdle which I wear about my waist, that I lie not. Certes, my Siegfried became thy lord."
Kriemhild replied, "I won’t be called a thief. You would have been better off keeping quiet if you care about your honor. I’ll prove it with the belt I’m wearing around my waist that I'm not lying. Indeed, my Siegfried became your lord."
She wore the cord of silk of Nineveh, set with precious stones; in sooth 'twas fair enow. When Brunhild spied it, she began to weep. Gunther and all the Burgundian men must needs now learn of this.
She wore the silk cord from Nineveh, decorated with precious stones; truly, it was quite beautiful. When Brunhild saw it, she started to cry. Gunther and all the Burgundian men had to find out about this now.
Then spake the queen: "Bid the prince of the Rhineland come hither. I will let him hear how his sister hath mocked me. She saith here openly that I be Siegfried's wife."
Then the queen said: "Tell the prince of the Rhineland to come here. I want him to hear how his sister has mocked me. She openly claims that I am Siegfried's wife."
The king came with knights, and when he saw his love a-weeping, how gently he spake: "Pray tell me, dear lady, who hath done you aught?"
The king arrived with his knights, and when he saw his love crying, he spoke softly: "Please tell me, dear lady, who has hurt you?"
She answered to the king: "I must stand unhappy; thy sister would fain part me from all mine honors. I make here plaint to thee she doth aver that Siegfried, her husband hath had me as his leman."
She replied to the king: "I have to remain unhappy; your sister wants to take away all my honors. I'm here to tell you that she claims Siegfried, her husband, has had me as his lover."
Quoth King Gunther: "Then hath she done ill."
Quoth King Gunther: "Then she has done wrong."
"She weareth here my girdle, which I have lost, and my ring of ruddy gold. It doth repent me sore that I was ever born, unless be thou clearest me of this passing great shame, for that I'll serve thee ever."
"She wears my belt, which I lost, and my ring of red gold. I deeply regret being born, unless you free me from this great shame, because I will serve you forever."
King Gunther spake: "Have him come hither. He must let us hear if he hath made boast of this, or he must make denial, the hero of Netherland." One bade fetch at once Kriemhild's love.
King Gunther said: "Have him come here. He needs to let us know if he has bragged about this, or he has to deny it, the hero of Netherland." Someone was ordered to bring Kriemhild's love immediately.
When Siegfried saw the angry dames (he wist not of the tale), how quickly then he spake: "I fain would know why these ladies weep, or for what cause the king hath had me fetched."
When Siegfried saw the angry ladies (he didn't know the story), he quickly said, "I would like to know why these women are crying, or why the king has summoned me."
Then King Gunther spake: "It doth rue me sore, forsooth. My Lady Brunhild hath told me here a tale, that thou hast boasted thou wast the first to clasp her lovely body in thine arms; this Lady Kriemhild, thy wife, doth say."
Then King Gunther spoke: "It truly pains me. My lady Brunhild has told me a story that you claimed to be the first to hold her beautiful body in your arms; this lady Kriemhild, your wife, says so."
Then spake Lord Siegfried: "And she hath told this tale, she shall rue it sore, or ever I turn back, and I'll clear me with solemn oaths in front of all thy men, that I have not told her this."
Then Lord Siegfried said, "Now that she has told this story, she will regret it deeply before I turn back, and I will clear my name with solemn oaths in front of all your men, that I did not tell her this."
Quoth the king of the Rhineland: "Let that be seen. The oath thou dost offer, and let it now be given, shall free thee of all false charges."
Quoth the king of the Rhineland: "Let that be seen. The oath you offer, and let it be given now, will free you of all false accusations."
They bade the proud Burgundians form a ring. Siegfried, the bold, stretched out his hand for the oath; then spake the mighty king: "Thy great innocence is so well known to me, that I will free thee of that of which my sister doth accuse thee and say, thou hast never done this thing."
They asked the proud Burgundians to form a circle. Siegfried, the brave, reached out his hand to take the oath; then the mighty king spoke: "I know your great innocence so well that I will clear you of what my sister accuses you of and say that you have never done this thing."
Siegfried replied: "If it boot my lady aught to have thus saddened Brunhild, that will surely cause me boundless grief."
Siegfried replied, "If it really means anything to my lady that Brunhild is so upset, that will definitely make me incredibly sad."
Then the lusty knights and good gazed one upon the other. "One should so train women," spake again Siegfried, the knight, "that they leave haughty words unsaid. Forbid it to thy wife, and I'll do the same to mine. In truth, I do shame me of her great discourtesie."
Then the eager knights and good looked at each other. "Women should be taught," Siegfried, the knight, said again, "to hold back haughty words. You should forbid it to your wife, and I'll do the same with mine. Honestly, I'm embarrassed by her rudeness."
Many fair ladies were parted by the speech. Brunhild mourned so sore, that it moved King Gunther's men to pity. Then came Hagen of Troneg to his sovran lady. He found her weeping, and asked what grief she had. She told him then the tale. On the spot he vowed that Kriemhild's lord should rue it sore, or he would nevermore be glad. Ortwin and Gernot joined their parley and these heroes counseled Siegfried's death. Giselher, the son of the noble Uta, came hither too. When he heard the talk, he spake full true: "Ye trusty knights, wherefore do ye this? Siegfried hath not merited forsooth such hate, that he should therefore lose his life. Certes, women oft grow angry over little things."
Many beautiful ladies were upset by the conversation. Brunhild grieved so much that it made King Gunther's men feel sorry for her. Then Hagen of Troneg approached his sovereign lady. He found her crying and asked what was wrong. She then told him the story. Right then, he vowed that Kriemhild's husband would regret this deeply, or he would never be happy again. Ortwin and Gernot joined the discussion, and these heroes planned Siegfried's death. Giselher, the son of the noble Uta, came over as well. When he heard their talk, he spoke honestly: "You loyal knights, why are you doing this? Siegfried has not earned such hatred that he should lose his life over it. Indeed, women often get upset about small things."
"Shall we then raise cuckolds?" answered Hagen; "such good knights would gain from that but little honor. Because he hath boasted of my liege lady, I will rather die, an' it cost him not his life."
"Should we then create fools out of ourselves?" Hagen replied. "These noble knights wouldn't gain much honor from that. Since he has bragged about my lady, I would rather die, even if it doesn't cost him his life."
Then spake the king himself: "He hath shown us naught but love and honor, so let him live. What booteth it, if I now should hate the knight? He was ever faithful to us and that right willingly."
Then the king himself said: "He has shown us nothing but love and respect, so let him live. What good does it do if I were to hate the knight now? He has always been faithful to us and has done so willingly."
Knight Ortwin of Metz then spake: "His great prowess shall not in sooth avail him aught. If my lord permit, I'll do him every evil."
Knight Ortwin of Metz then said, "His great skill won't really help him at all. If my lord allows it, I'll do him every kind of harm."
So without cause the heroes had declared a feud against him. In this none followed, save that Hagen counselled all time Knight Gunther the that if Siegfried no longer lived, then many kingly lands would own his sway. At this the king grew sad, so they let it rest.
So, without any reason, the heroes had declared a feud against him. Only Hagen supported this, advising Knight Gunther that if Siegfried was no longer alive, many royal lands would fall under his control. Hearing this, the king became sad, so they decided to drop the matter.
Jousting was seen once more. Ho, what stout shafts they splintered before the minster in the presence of Siegfried's wife, even down to the hall! Enow of Gunther's men were now in wrath. The king spake: "Let be this murderous rage, he is born to our honor and to our joy. Then, too, the wonderly bold man is so fierce of strength, that none durst match him, if he marked it."
Jousting was seen once again. Wow, what strong lances they broke in front of the cathedral, even all the way to the hall! Many of Gunther's men were now angry. The king said: "Calm this murderous rage; he is destined for our honor and our joy. Besides, this incredibly brave man is so strong that no one would dare challenge him if he noticed."
"No, not he," spake Hagen then, "Ye may well keep still; I trow to bring it to pass in secret, that he rue Brunhild's tears. Certes, Hagen hath broken with him for all time."
"No, not him," Hagen said then, "You can definitely keep quiet; I plan to make him regret Brunhild's tears in secret. For sure, Hagen has severed ties with him for good."
Then spake King Gunther: "How might that chance?"
Then King Gunther said, "How could that happen?"
To this Hagen made answer: "I'll let you hear. We'll bid messengers, that be not known to any here, ride into our land, to declare war upon us openly. Then do ye say before your guests that ye and your men will take the field. When that is done, he will vow to serve you then and from this he shall lose his life, an' I learn the tale from the bold knight's wife."
To that, Hagen replied, "I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll send messengers, who aren't known here, into our territory to openly declare war on us. Then, you should say in front of your guests that you and your men will go to battle. Once that's done, he'll promise to serve you, and because of that, he'll lose his life, if I hear the story from the brave knight's wife."
The king followed his liegeman Hagen in evil wise. These chosen knights gan plan great faithlessness, or ever any one was ware. From two women's quarreling full many a hero lost his life.
The king followed his loyal servant Hagen in a wicked way. These selected knights started plotting a major betrayal before anyone was aware. Many a hero lost his life because of the quarrels between two women.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Leman" (M.E. "lemman", O.E. "leof mann", 'lief man', i.e., 'dear one'), 'mistress' in a bad sense.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Leman" (M.E. "lemman", O.E. "leof mann", 'dear man', i.e., 'beloved one'), 'mistress' in a negative connotation.
ADVENTURE XV. How Siegfried Was Betrayed.
Upon the fourth morning two and thirty men were seen to ride to court and the tale was brought to mighty Gunther that war had been declared. The very direst woes befell fair women from a lie. They gained leave to come before the king and say that they were Liudeger's men, whom Siegfried's hand had conquered afore and had brought as hostages to Gunther's land. He greeted then the messengers and bade them go and seat them. One among them spake: "My lord, pray let us stand till we have told the message we do bear you. This know, ye have of a truth many a mother's son as foe. Liudegast and Liudeger, whom ye one time gave grievous sores, declare a feud against you and are minded to ride with an army to this land." The king waxed wroth when he heard This tale.
On the fourth morning, thirty-two men were seen riding to court, and the news was brought to mighty Gunther that war had been declared. The worst misfortunes fell upon fair women because of a lie. They were allowed to come before the king and claim they were Liudeger’s men, whom Siegfried had defeated before and brought as hostages to Gunther's land. He welcomed the messengers and told them to sit down. One of them spoke up: "My lord, please let us stand until we deliver the message we carry. Know this: many sons of mothers are truly your enemies. Liudegast and Liudeger, whom you once severely wounded, declare a feud against you and are planning to come with an army to this land." The king became furious when he heard this news.
Men bade lead the perjurers to their lodgings. How might Siegfried, or any else against whom they plotted, ware himself against their wiles? This later brought great sorrow to them all. The king walked whispering with his friends; Hagen of Troneg never let him rest. Enow of the king's liegemen would fain have parted the strife, but Hagen would not give up his plan. On a day Siegfried found them whispering. The hero of Netherland gan ask: "How go the king and his men so sadly? I'll help avenge it, hath any done you aught."
Men led the perjurers to their lodgings. How could Siegfried, or anyone else they were plotting against, protect himself from their tricks? This later caused great sorrow for all of them. The king spoke quietly with his friends; Hagen of Troneg never let him rest. Many of the king's followers wanted to end the conflict, but Hagen wouldn't give up his plan. One day, Siegfried found them whispering. The hero of Netherland asked, "Why do the king and his men look so sad? I'll help get revenge; has someone done something to you?"
Then spake King Gunther: "I am rightly sad. Liudegast and Liudeger have challenged me to war; they are minded to ride openly into my land."
Then King Gunther said, "I am truly sad. Liudegast and Liudeger have challenged me to battle; they plan to ride openly into my territory."
At this the bold knight said: "Siegfried's hand shall hinder that with zeal, as beseemeth all your honors. I'll do yet to these knights as I did before; I'll lay waste their lands, or ever I turn again. Be my head your pledge of this. Ye and your warriors shall stay at home and let me ride to meet them with those I have. I'll let you see how fain I serve you. This know, through me it shall go evil with your foes."
At this, the brave knight said, "Siegfried's hand will make sure that happens with eagerness, as it should for all of you. I'll treat these knights the same as I did before; I'll destroy their lands before I turn back. You can make my head your guarantee for this. You and your warriors should stay home and let me face them with those I have. You'll see how eagerly I serve you. Know this: through me, your enemies will face misfortune."
"Well is me of these tidings," spake then the king, as though he were glad in earnest of this aid. With guile the faithless man bowed low.
"These news are troubling," said the king, as if he were truly pleased with this help. The deceitful man pretended to bow low.
Quoth Lord Siegfried: "Ye shall have small care."
Quoth Lord Siegfried: "You won't have to worry much."
Then they made ready for the journey hence with the men-at-arms. This was done for Siegfried and his men to see. He, too, bade those of Netherland get them ready. Siegfried's warriors sought out warlike weeds. Then the stalwart Siegfried spake: "My father Siegmund, ye must stay here. We shall return in short space hither to the Rhine, and God give us luck. Ye must here make merry with the king."
Then they prepared for the journey with the soldiers. This was done for Siegfried and his men to see. He also told the people from the Netherlands to get ready. Siegfried's warriors looked for their battle gear. Then the brave Siegfried spoke: "My father Siegmund, you must stay here. We will return to the Rhine soon, and may God grant us good fortune. You should enjoy yourself here with the king."
They tied fast their banners, as though they would away, and there were enow of Gunther's men who wist not wherefore this was done. Great rout of men was seen at Siegfried's side. They bound their helmets and their breastplates upon the steeds, and many a stout knight made ready to quit the land. Then Hagen of Troneg went to find Kriemhild and asked for leave; sith they would void the land.
They secured their banners as if they were about to leave, and many of Gunther's men didn't understand why this was happening. A large crowd of men was gathered by Siegfried's side. They fastened their helmets and armor onto their horses, and many brave knights prepared to leave the land. Then Hagen of Troneg went to find Kriemhild and asked for permission, since they were planning to leave the land.
"Now well is me," spake Kriemhild, "that I have won a husband who dare protect so well my loving kinsfolk, as my Lord Siegfried doth here. Therefore," spake the queen, "will I be glad of heart. Dear friend Hagen, think on that, that I do serve you gladly and never yet did bear you hate. Requite this now to me in my dear husband. Let him not suffer, if I have done to Brunhild aught. I since have rued it," spake the noble wife. "Moreover, he since hath beaten me black and blue; the brave hero and a good hath well avenged that ever I spake what grieved her heart."
"Now I feel so fortunate," said Kriemhild, "that I've found a husband who can protect my beloved family as well as my Lord Siegfried does here. That's why," the queen continued, "I will be glad. Dear friend Hagen, remember that I serve you gladly and have never held any resentment towards you. Please return this favor to me in regard to my dear husband. Don't let him suffer if I have done anything to Brunhild. I regret it," said the noble wife. "Furthermore, he has since beaten me badly; the brave hero has avenged my words, which caused her pain."
"Ye'll be friends once more after some days. Kriemhild, dear lady, pray tell me how I may serve you in your husband Siegfried. Liefer will I do this for you than for any else."
"You'll be friends again after a few days. Kriemhild, dear lady, please tell me how I can serve you with your husband Siegfried. I will do this for you more than for anyone else."
"I should be without all fear," quoth the noble dame, "that any one would take his life in the fray, if he would not follow his overweening mood; then the bold knight and a good were safe."
"I shouldn't be afraid at all," said the noble lady, "that anyone would lose their life in battle if they didn't give in to their arrogant attitude; then both the brave knight and a good man would be safe."
"Lady," spake then Hagen, "an' ye do think that men might wound him, pray let me know with what manner of arts I can prevent this. On foot, on horse, will I ever be his guard."
"Lady," Hagen then said, "if you think that men might harm him, please tell me what I can do to stop this. Whether on foot or horseback, I will always be his protector."
She spake: "Thou art my kinsman and I am thine. I'll commend to thee trustingly the dear lover of mine, that thou mayst guard him well, mine own dear husband." She made him acquaint with tales which had been better left unsaid. She spake: "My husband is brave and strong enow. When he slew the dragon on the hill, the lusty warrior bathed him of a truth in the blood, so that since then no weapon ever cut him in the fray. Yet am I in fear, whenever he standeth in the fight and many javelins are cast by heroes' hands, that I may lose this dear husband of mine. Alas, how oft I suffer sore for Siegfried's sake! Dear kinsman, in the hope that thou wilt hold thy troth with me, I'll tell thee where men may wound the dear lord of mine. I let thee hear this, 'tis done in faith. When the hot blood gushed from the dragon's wounds and the bold hero and a good bathed him therein, a broad linden leaf did fall betwixt his shoulder blades. Therefore am I sore afraid that men may cut him there."
She said: "You’re my relative and I’m yours. I’m going to trust you with my dear lover, so that you can protect him well, my own dear husband." She shared stories that probably should have been kept secret. She said: "My husband is brave and strong enough. When he killed the dragon on the hill, the fierce warrior truly bathed in its blood, which is why no weapon has ever harmed him in battle since. Yet I fear, whenever he’s in a fight and many javelins are thrown by brave hands, that I might lose this dear husband of mine. Oh, how often I suffer greatly for Siegfried! Dear relative, hoping that you will keep your promise to me, I’ll tell you where men can wound my dear lord. I’m sharing this with you in good faith. When the hot blood flowed from the dragon’s wounds and the brave hero bathed in it, a broad linden leaf fell between his shoulder blades. That’s why I’m so afraid that men might hit him there."
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "Sew a small mark upon his coat, whereby I may know where I must guard him, when we stand in battle."
Then Hagen of Troneg said, "Sew a small mark on his coat so I can tell where I need to protect him when we fight."
She weened to save her knight, but 'twas done unto his death. She spake: "With fine silk I'll sew a secret cross upon his vesture. There, knight, thy hand must guard my husband, when the strife is on and he standeth in the battle before his foes."
She wanted to save her knight, but it led to his death. She said: "With fine silk I'll sew a secret cross on his clothing. There, knight, your hand must protect my husband when the fighting starts and he stands in battle before his enemies."
"That will I well, dear my lady," Hagen then replied.
"Sure thing, my dear lady," Hagen then replied.
The lady weened that it would boot him aught, but Kriemhild's husband was thereby betrayed. Hagen then took leave; merrily he hied him hence. The king's liegeman was blithe of mood. I ween that nevermore will warrior give such false counsel, as was done by him when Kriemhild trusted in his troth.
The lady thought it would benefit him in some way, but Kriemhild's husband was betrayed as a result. Hagen then took his leave; he cheerfully headed off. The king's loyal follower was in a good mood. I believe that no warrior will ever give such dishonest advice again, as he did when Kriemhild trusted his word.
Next morning Siegfried with a thousand of his men rode merrily forth. He weened he should avenge the grievance of his kinsmen. Hagen rode so near him that he could eye his clothes. When he saw the sign, he sent in secret twain of his men, who should tell another tale: that Gunther's land should still have peace and that Liudeger had sent them to the king. How loth Siegfried now rode home again, or ever he had avenged his kinsmen's wrongs! Gunther's men could hardly turn him back. He rode then to the king; the host gan thank him. "Now God requite you of your will, friend Siegfried, that ye do so willingly what I bid you. For this I'll ever serve you, as I rightly should. I trust you more than all my friends. Now that we be rid of this foray, I am minded to ride a-hunting for bears and boars to the Vosges forest, as I have done oft-time." That Hagen, the faithless knight, had counseled. "Let it be told to all my guests, that we ride betimes. Those that would hunt with me must make them ready. If any choose to stay at home to court the ladies, that liketh me as well."
The next morning, Siegfried set out cheerfully with a thousand of his men. He thought he would avenge his relatives' grievances. Hagen rode so close that he could see his clothes. When he noticed the signal, he secretly sent two of his men to tell a different story: that Gunther's land would still be at peace and that Liudeger had sent them to the king. How reluctant Siegfried was to return home without avenging his kinsmen’s wrongs! Gunther's men could hardly persuade him to turn back. He then went to the king, who thanked him. "May God reward you for your willingness, dear Siegfried, to do what I ask. For this, I will always serve you, as I should. I trust you more than all my friends. Now that we’re finished with this raid, I plan to go hunting for bears and boars in the Vosges forest, as I have often done." That was Hagen’s treacherous advice. "Let it be announced to all my guests that we will leave early. Those who want to hunt with me should get ready. If anyone prefers to stay home and court the ladies, that's fine with me too."
Then spake Sir Siegfried in lordly wise: "And ye would a-hunting, I'd fain go with you. Pray lend me a huntsman and some brach, (1) and I will ride to the pines."
Then spoke Sir Siegfried in a noble way: "If you’re going hunting, I’d love to join you. Please lend me a huntsman and some hounds, and I will ride to the woods."
"Will ye have but one?" spake the king anon. "I'll lend you, an' ye will, four men to whom both wood and paths be known where the game is wont to go, and who will not let you miss the camp."
"Will you have just one?" the king said quickly. "I'll lend you, if you want, four men who know both the woods and the paths where the game usually goes, and who won't let you miss the camp."
Then rode the full lusty warrior to his wife, whilst Hagen quickly told the king how he thought to trap the doughty knight. A man should never use such faithlessness.
Then the strong warrior rode back to his wife, while Hagen quickly explained to the king how he planned to deceive the brave knight. A person should never act with such betrayal.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Brach", 'hunting dog', cognate with M.H.G. "bracke", used here.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Brach", 'hunting dog', similar to M.H.G. "bracke", used here.
ADVENTURE XVI. How Siegfried Was Slain.
Gunther and Hagen, the passing bold knights, faithlessly let cry a-hunting in the woods, that with sharp spears they would hunt boars and bears and bison. What might be braver? With them rode Siegfried in lordly guise; many kinds of victual did they take along. At a cool spring he later lost his life, the which Brunhild, King Gunther's wife, had counseled. The bold knight then went to where he found Kriemhild. His costly hunting garb and those of his fellowship were already bound upon the sumpters, for they would cross the Rhine. Never could Kriemhild have been more sorrowful. He kissed his love upon her mouth. "God let me see thee, lady, still in health and grant that thine eyes may see me too. Thou shalt have pastime with thy loving kinsmen. I may not stay at home."
Gunther and Hagen, the daring knights, deceitfully shouted during their hunt in the woods, claiming they would pursue boars, bears, and bison with sharp spears. What could be braver? Riding alongside them was Siegfried, dressed like a nobleman; they brought along various kinds of food. Later, by a cool spring, he lost his life, as advised by Brunhild, King Gunther's wife. The brave knight then went to find Kriemhild. His expensive hunting outfit and those of his companions were already loaded onto the pack animals, as they were set to cross the Rhine. Kriemhild could not have been more heartbroken. He kissed his beloved on the lips. "God, may I see you, my lady, in good health and grant that your eyes may see me too. You will have fun with your loving relatives. I cannot stay home."
Then she thought of the tale she had told to Hagen, though she durst not say a whit. The noble queen began to rue that she was ever born. Lord Siegfried's wife wept out of measure. She spake to the knight: "Let be your hunting. I had an evil dream last night, how two wild boars did chase you across the heath; then flowers grew red. I have in truth great cause to weep so sore. I be much adread of sundry plans and whether we have not misserved some who might bear us hostile hate. Tarry here, dear my lord, that I counsel by my troth."
Then she remembered the story she had told Hagen, even though she didn’t dare to say anything more. The noble queen started to regret ever being born. Lord Siegfried's wife cried her eyes out. She said to the knight: "Stop your hunting. I had a terrible dream last night, where two wild boars chased you across the heath, and then the flowers turned red. I truly have a lot to cry about. I’m really afraid of certain plans and whether we have wronged anyone who could hold a grudge against us. Please stay here, my dear lord, so I can advise you with all my heart."
He spake: "Dear love, I'll come back in a few short days. I wot not here of people who bear me aught of hate. Each and all of thy kinsmen be my friends, nor have I deserved it other of the knights."
He said, "Dear love, I'll be back in a few short days. I don’t know of anyone here who bears me any hate. Every one of your relatives is my friend, and I haven’t done anything to deserve otherwise from the knights."
"No, no, Sir Siegfried, in truth I fear thy fall. I had last night an evil dream, how two mountains fell upon thee. I saw thee nevermore. It doth cut me to the heart, that thou wilt part from me."
"No, no, Sir Siegfried, I truly fear for your downfall. I had a terrible dream last night, where two mountains crashed down on you. I never saw you again. It breaks my heart that you plan to leave me."
In his arms he clasped his courteous wife and kissed her tenderly. Then in a short space he took his leave and parted hence. Alas, she never saw him in health again.
In his arms, he held his gracious wife and kissed her gently. After a brief moment, he said goodbye and left. Unfortunately, she never saw him healthy again.
Then they rode from thence into a deep wood for pastime's sake. Many bold knights did follow Gunther and his men, but Gernot and Giselher stayed at home. Many laden sumpters were sent before them across the Rhine, the which bare for the hunting fellowship bread and wine, meat and fish, and great store of other things, which so mighty a king might rightly have. They bade the proud huntsmen and bold halt before a green wood over against the courses of the game, upon a passing broad glade where they should hunt. The king was told that Siegfried, too, was come. The hunting fellowship now took their stand on every side. Then the bold knight, the sturdy Siegfried, asked: "Ye heroes bold and brave, who shall lead us to the game within the wood?"
Then they rode into a deep forest for some fun. Many brave knights followed Gunther and his men, but Gernot and Giselher stayed home. Many loaded packhorses were sent ahead of them across the Rhine, carrying bread and wine, meat and fish, and plenty of other things that a powerful king would rightly have. They instructed the proud and bold hunters to stop in front of a green wood facing the game trails, in a wide clearing where they would hunt. The king was informed that Siegfried had also arrived. The hunting group then took their positions all around. Then the brave knight, the strong Siegfried, asked: "You bold and brave heroes, who will lead us to the game in the woods?"
"Let us part," spake Hagen, "ere we begin the chase. Thereby my lords and I may know who be the best hunter on this woodland journey. Let us divide the folk and hounds and let each turn whithersoever he list. He who doth hunt the best shall have our thanks." Short time the huntsmen bided by another after that.
"Let's split up," Hagen said, "before we start the hunt. This way, my friends and I can see who is the best hunter on this woodland adventure. Let's divide the people and the dogs, and let everyone go wherever they want. Whoever hunts the best will earn our gratitude." The hunters waited a brief moment after that.
Then spake Lord Siegfried: "I need no dogs save one brach that hath been trained that he can tell the track of the beasts through the pine woods." Quoth Kriemhild's husband: "We'll find the game."
Then Lord Siegfried said, "I only need one dog, a hound that can track the animals through the pine woods." Kriemhild's husband replied, "We'll find the game."
Then an old huntsman took a good sleuth-hound and in a short space brought the lord to where many beasts were found. Whatso rose from its lair the comrades hunted as good hunters still are wont to do. Whatever the brach started, bold Siegfried, the hero of Netherland, slew with his hand. His horse did run so hard that none escaped him. In the chase he gained the prize above them all. Doughty enow he was in all things. The beast which he slew with his hands was the first, a mighty boar; after which he found full soon a monstrous lion. (1) When the brach started this from its lair, he shot it with his bow, in which he had placed a full sharp arrow. After the shot the lion ran the space of but three bounds. The hunting fellowship gave Siegfried thanks. Thereafter he speedily slew a bison and an elk, four strong ure-oxen, (2) and a savage shelk. (3) His horse bare him so swiftly that naught escaped him, nor could hart or hind avoid him. Then the sleuth-hound found a mighty boar; when he began to flee, at once there came the master of the hunt and encountered him upon his path. Wrathfully the boar did run against the valiant hero, but Kriemhild's husband slew him with his sword. Another huntsman might not have done this deed so lightly. When he had felled him, they leashed the sleuth-hound; his rich booty was soon well known to the Burgundian men.
Then an old huntsman took a good bloodhound and soon brought the lord to where many beasts were found. Whatever rose from its lair, the companions hunted as good hunters still do. Whatever the dog chased, bold Siegfried, the hero of the Netherlands, killed with his own hands. His horse ran so hard that none escaped him. In the chase, he earned the top prize above them all. He was brave enough in everything. The first beast he killed with his hands was a mighty boar; soon after, he found a huge lion. When the dog flushed it from its lair, he shot it with his bow, which he had fitted with a very sharp arrow. After the shot, the lion ran only three bounds. The hunting party thanked Siegfried. After that, he quickly killed a bison, an elk, four strong aurochs, and a fierce shelk. His horse carried him so swiftly that nothing escaped him, nor could stag or doe avoid him. Then the bloodhound found a mighty boar; when it started to flee, the master of the hunt came and confronted it on its path. Ragefully, the boar charged at the valiant hero, but Kriemhild's husband killed it with his sword. Another huntsman might not have achieved this so easily. After he brought it down, they leashed the bloodhound; his rich haul was soon well known among the Burgundians.
Then spake his huntsman: "Sir Siegfried, if might so be, let us leave a deal of the beasts alive. Ye'll empty both our hill and woods to-day."
Then his huntsman spoke: "Sir Siegfried, if possible, let's leave some of the animals alive. You'll clear out both our hill and woods today."
At this the brave knight and a bold gan smile. Then the calls of men and the baying of hounds were heard on every side; so great was the noise that both hill and pine woods echoed with the sound. The huntsmen had let loose full four and twenty packs. Then passing many beasts must needs lose their lives. Each man weened to bring it to pass that men should give him the prize of the hunt; that might not be, for the stalwart Siegfried was already standing by the fire. The chase was over, and yet not quite. Those who would to the camp-fire brought with them thither hides of many beasts and game in plenty. Ho, how much the king's meiny bare then to the kitchen!
At this, the brave knight and a bold man smiled. Then the sounds of men and the barking of hounds were heard all around; the noise was so loud that both the hills and the pine woods echoed with it. The hunters had unleashed a full twenty-four packs. Thus, many animals were bound to lose their lives. Each man believed he would be the one to claim the prize of the hunt; that couldn’t happen, though, because the strong Siegfried was already standing by the fire. The chase was over, but not completely. Those heading to the campfire brought with them hides of many animals and plenty of game. Oh, how much the king’s men carried to the kitchen!
Then bade the king announce to the huntsman that he would dismount. A horn was blown full loud just once, that all might know that one might find the noble prince in camp. Spake then one of Siegfried's huntsmen: "My lord, I heard by the blast of a horn that we must now hie us to the quarters; I'll now give answer."
Then the king told the huntsman to announce that he would get off his horse. A horn was blown loudly just once so that everyone would know the noble prince was in camp. One of Siegfried's huntsmen then said, "My lord, I heard the horn blow, which means we should head to the quarters now; I'll respond."
Thus by many blasts of horns they asked about the hunters. Then spake Sir Siegfried: "Now let us leave the pine wood!" His steed bare him smoothly and with him they hasted hence. With their rout they started up a savage beast; a wild bear it was. Quoth then the knight to those behind: "I'll give our fellowship a little pastime. Let loose the brach. Forsooth I spy a bear which shall journey with us to the camp. Flee he never so fast, he shall not escape us."
Thus, by many blasts of horns, they inquired about the hunters. Then Sir Siegfried said, "Now let's leave the pine forest!" His horse carried him smoothly, and they hurried away. Their group startled a fierce animal — it was a wild bear. The knight then told those behind him, "I'll give our group a little entertainment. Let the hound loose. Indeed, I see a bear that will accompany us back to camp. No matter how quickly it runs, it won't get away from us."
The brach was loosed, the bear sprang hence; Kriemhild's husband would fain overtake him. He reached a thicket, where none could follow. The mighty beast weened now to escape from the hunter with his life, but the proud knight and a good leaped from his steed and began to chase him. The bear was helpless and could not flee away. At once the hero caught it and bound it quickly with not a wound, so that it might neither scratch nor bite the men. The doughty knight then tied it to his saddle and horsed him quickly. Through his overweening mood the bold warrior and a good brought it to the camp-fire as a pastime. In what lordly wise he rode to the quarters! Mickle was his boar-spear, strong and broad. A dainty sword hung downward to his spurs. The lord bare also a fair horn of ruddy gold. Never heard I tale of better hunting weeds. One saw him wear a coat of black and silky cloth and a hat of sable: rich enow it was. Ho, what costly bands he wore upon his quiver! A panther's skin was drawn over it for its sweet fragrance' (4) sake. He bare a bow, which any but the hero must needs draw back with a windlass, and he would bend it. His vesture was befurred with otter skin (5) from head to toe. From the bright fur shone out on both sides of the bold master of the hunt many a bar of gold. Balmung (6) he also bare, a good broad sword, that was so sharp that it never failed when 'twas wielded 'gainst a helmet; its edge was good. In high spirits was the lordly huntsman. Sith I must tell you all the tale, his costly quiver was full of goodly darts, the heads a full hand's breadth, on golden shafts. What he pierced therewith must needs die soon.
The bear was released, and it sprang away; Kriemhild's husband wanted to catch it. He reached a thicket where no one could follow. The massive beast thought it could escape the hunter with its life, but the proud knight quickly dismounted and began to chase it. The bear was trapped and couldn't get away. The hero swiftly caught it without inflicting any wounds, so it couldn't scratch or bite the men. The brave knight then tied it to his saddle and mounted his horse quickly. In his overconfident mood, the bold warrior brought it back to the campfire as a diversion. Just look at how he rode to the quarters! His boar-spear was large, sturdy, and broad. A fancy sword hung down toward his spurs. He also carried a beautiful horn made of red gold. I’ve never heard of better hunting gear. He wore a coat of black silky fabric and a sable hat: it was very luxurious. Oh, the expensive decorations on his quiver! A panther's skin covered it for its sweet scent. He had a bow that only the hero could draw back without a windlass, and he could bend it easily. His outfit was lined with otter fur from head to toe. The bright fur displayed many bars of gold on both sides of the bold master of the hunt. He also carried Balmung, a good broad sword, so sharp that it never failed when used against a helmet; its edge was excellent. The noble huntsman was in high spirits. Since I must tell you the whole story, his expensive quiver was full of fine darts, the heads a full hand’s breadth, mounted on golden shafts. Anything he pierced with them was sure to die quickly.
Thus the noble knight rode hence in hunter's garb. Gunther's men espied him coming and ran out to meet him and took his horse in charge. On his saddle he carried a large bear and a strong. When he had dismounted, he loosed the bonds from feet and snout. Those of the pack bayed loudly, that spied the bear. The beast would to the woods; the serving folk had fear. Dazed by the din, the bear made for the kitchen. Ho, how he drove the scullions from the fire! Many a kettle was upset and many a firebrand scattered. Ho, what good victual men found lying in the ashes! Then the lordings and their liegemen sprang from their scats. The bear grew furious and the king bade loose the pack that lay enleashed. Had all sped well, they would have had a merry day. No longer the doughty men delayed, but ran for the bear with bows and pikes. There was such press of dogs that none might shoot, but from the people's shouts the whole hill rang. The bear began to flee before the dogs; none could follow him but Kriemhild's husband, who caught and slew him with his sword. Then they bore the bear again to the fire. Those that saw it, averred he was a mighty man.
So the noble knight rode off in hunting clothes. Gunther's men saw him coming and rushed out to meet him, taking his horse. On his saddle, he carried a large bear and a strong one. After he got off, he untied the bear's feet and snout. The dogs in the pack barked loudly when they saw the bear. The beast wanted to escape into the woods, but the servants were scared. Confused by the noise, the bear headed for the kitchen. Wow, he drove the kitchen staff away from the fire! Many pots were knocked over, and firebrands were scattered everywhere. Wow, what good food they found lying in the ashes! Then the lords and their men jumped up from their seats. The bear got angry, and the king ordered the dogs that had been held back to be released. If everything had gone well, it would have been a fun day. No longer did the brave men hesitate, but they ran after the bear with bows and pikes. There were so many dogs that no one could shoot, but the shouts of the people echoed all around the hill. The bear started to flee from the dogs; only Kriemhild's husband could catch and kill him with his sword. Then they brought the bear back to the fire. Those who saw it said he was a mighty man.
Men bade now the proud hunting fellowship seat them at the tables. Upon a fair mead there sate a goodly company. Ho, what rich viands they bare there to the noble huntsmen! The butlers who should bring the wine delayed; else might never heroes have been better served. Had they not been so falsely minded, then had the knights been free of every blame.
Men now invited the proud hunting group to sit at the tables. At a beautiful meadow, a fine company gathered. Oh, what delicious food they had for the noble hunters! The servers who were supposed to bring the wine were delayed; otherwise, the heroes could not have been better served. If they hadn't been so deceitful, the knights would have been completely blameless.
Now the Lord Siegfried spake: "Me-wondereth, since men do give us such great store from the kitchen, why the butlers bring us not the wine. Unless men purvey the hunters better, I'll be no more your hunting-fellow. I have well deserved that they regard me, too."
Now Lord Siegfried said, "I wonder, since people provide us with so much food from the kitchen, why the butlers don't bring us the wine. Unless the people supply the hunters better, I won't be part of your hunting group anymore. I've earned the right for them to consider me, too."
The king addressed him from his seat with guile: "We fain would do you remedy of what we lack. It is Hagen's fault, who is willed to let us die of thirst."
The king spoke to him from his throne with cunning: "We would like to help you with what we need. It's Hagen's fault, who wants to let us die of thirst."
Then spake Hagen: "Dear my lord, I weened that the hunt should be in the Spessart (7) wood, therefore sent I thither the wine. Though we may not drink to-day, how well will I avoid this in the future!"
Then Hagen said, "My dear lord, I thought the hunt would be in the Spessart woods, so I sent the wine there. Even if we can't drink today, I'll make sure to avoid this in the future!"
At this Lord Siegfried spake: "Small thanks ye'll get for that. One should have brought me hither seven sumpter loads of mead and mulled wine. (8) If that might not be, then men should have placed our benches nearer to the Rhine."
At this, Lord Siegfried said, "You'll get little credit for that. Someone should have brought me here seven loads of mead and mulled wine. (8) If that wasn't possible, then they should have set our benches closer to the Rhine."
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "Ye noble knights and bold, I wot near by a good cold spring. Let us go thither, that ye wax not wroth."
Then Hagen of Troneg said, "You noble and brave knights, I know a good cold spring nearby. Let's go there, so you don't get angry."
To the danger of many a knight was this counsel given. The pangs of thirst now plagued the warrior Siegfried. He bade the tables be borne away the sooner, for he would go to the spring in the mountains. With false intent the counsel was then given by the knights. They bade the game which Siegfried's hand had slain, be carried home on wains. Whoever saw it gave him great laud. Hagen of Troneg now foully broke his troth to Siegfried. When they would hence to the broad linden, he spake: "It hath oft been told me, that none can keep pace with Kriemhild's husband when he be minded for to race. Ho, if he would only let us see it here!"
To the peril of many knights, this advice was given. The warrior Siegfried was now tormented by thirst. He requested that the tables be taken away quickly because he wanted to go to the spring in the mountains. The knights then gave him advice with deceitful intent. They suggested that the game Siegfried had killed be transported home on wagons. Everyone who saw it praised him greatly. Hagen of Troneg now treacherously broke his vow to Siegfried. As they prepared to leave for the wide linden tree, he said: "I've often heard that no one can match Kriemhild's husband when he's eager to race. Oh, if only he would show us here!"
Bold Siegfried from Netherland then answered: "Ye can well test that, and ye will run a race with me to the spring. When that is done, we call give the prize to him who winneth."
Bold Siegfried from the Netherlands then answered, "You can easily test that, and you will race me to the spring. Once that’s done, we can give the prize to whoever wins."
"So let us try it then," quoth Hagen, the knight.
"So let's give it a try then," said Hagen, the knight.
Spake the sturdy Siegfried: "Then will I lay me down on the green sward at your feet." (9)
Spoke the strong Siegfried: "Then I will lie down on the green grass at your feet." (9)
How lief it was to Gunther, when he heard these words! Then the bold knight spake again: "I'll tell you more. I'll take with me all my trappings, my spear and shield and all my hunting garb." Around him he quickly girded his quiver and his sword.
How pleasing it was to Gunther when he heard these words! Then the brave knight spoke again: "I'll tell you more. I'll take all my gear with me—my spear, shield, and all my hunting outfit." He quickly strapped on his quiver and sword.
Then they drew the clothes from off their limbs; men saw them stand in two white shifts. Like two wild panthers through the clover they ran, but men spied bold Siegfried first at the spring. In all things he bare away the prize from many a man. Quickly he ungirt his sword and laid aside his quiver and leaned the stout spear against a linden bough. The lordly stranger stood now by the flowing spring. Passing great was Siegfried's courtesie. He laid down his shield where the spring gushed forth, but the hero drank not, albeit he thirsted sore until the king had drunk, who gave him evil thanks. Cool, clear, and good was the spring. Gunther stooped down then to the flowing stream, and when he had drunken straightened up again. Bold Siegfried would fain also have done the same, but now he paid for his courtesie. Hagen bare quite away from him both bow and sword and bounded then to where he found the spear; then he looked for the mark on bold Siegfried's coat. As Lord Siegfried drank above the spring, he pierced him through the cross, so that his heart's blood spurted from the wounds almost on Hagen's clothes. Nevermore will hero do so foul a deed. Hagen left the spear a-sticking in his heart and fled more madly than he ever in the world had run from any man.
Then they took off their clothes; the men saw them standing in two white dresses. Like two wild panthers in the clover, they ran, but the men spotted brave Siegfried first at the spring. In all things, he outshone many men. He quickly unbuckled his sword, set aside his quiver, and leaned his sturdy spear against a linden tree. The noble stranger now stood by the flowing spring. Siegfried's courtesy was immense. He laid down his shield where the spring bubbled up, but he didn't drink, even though he was really thirsty, until the king had drunk, who thanked him poorly. The spring was cool, clear, and refreshing. Gunther bent down to the stream, and after drinking, he stood up again. Bold Siegfried would have liked to do the same, but now he paid for his courtesy. Hagen completely took both his bow and sword and then jumped to where he found the spear; then he looked for the target on brave Siegfried's coat. As Lord Siegfried drank from the spring, Hagen pierced him through the back, causing his heart's blood to spurt onto Hagen's clothes. A hero will never do such a foul deed again. Hagen left the spear stuck in his heart and ran away more frantically than he ever had from any man.
When Lord Siegfried felt the mighty wound, up from the spring he started in a rage. From betwixt his shoulder blades a long spear-shaft towered. He weened to find his bow or his sword, and then had Hagen been repaid as he deserved. But when the sorely wounded hero found no trace of his sword, then had he naught else but his shield. This he snatched from the spring and ran at Hagen; nor could King Gunther's man escape him. Albeit he was wounded unto death, yet he smote so mightily that a plenty of precious stones were shaken from the shield. The shield itself burst quite apart. Fain would the lordly stranger have avenged him. Now was Hagen fallen to the ground at his hands, and from the force of the blow the glade rang loudly. Had he had a sword in hand, then had it been Hagen's death, so sore enraged was the wounded man. Forsooth he had good cause thereof. His hue grew pale, he could not stand; his strength of body melted quite away, for in bright colors he bore the signs of death. Thereafter he was bewailed by fair dames enow.
When Lord Siegfried felt the terrible wound, he sprang up from the spring in a rage. A long spear shaft protruded from between his shoulder blades. He hoped to find his bow or his sword, then he would have made Hagen pay as he deserved. But when the seriously injured hero found no sign of his sword, he had nothing left but his shield. He grabbed it from the spring and charged at Hagen; King Gunther's man couldn't escape him. Although he was mortally wounded, he struck so powerfully that a lot of precious stones fell from the shield. The shield itself broke apart completely. The noble stranger wanted to take his revenge. Now Hagen was on the ground at his feet, and the impact of the blow made the glade resonate loudly. If he had had a sword in his hand, it would have been Hagen's death, the wounded man was that furious. He certainly had good reason for it. His face became pale, he could hardly stand; his physical strength faded away completely, for he displayed the signs of death in bright colors. After that, he was mourned by many fair ladies.
Kriemhild's husband fell now among the flowers. Fast from his wounds his blood was seen to gush. He began to rail, as indeed he had great cause, at those who had planned this treacherous death. The deadly wounded spake: "Forsooth, ye evil cowards, what avail my services now that ye have slain me? This is my reward that I was always faithful to you. Alas, ye have acted ill against your kinsmen. Those of them who are born in after days will be disgraced. Ye have avenged your wrath too sore upon me. With shame shall ye be parted from all good warriors."
Kriemhild's husband fell among the flowers. His blood gushed from his wounds. He began to curse, as he had every right to, at those who had plotted this treacherous death. The mortally wounded man said: "Seriously, you cowards, what good are my services now that you've killed me? This is my reward for always being loyal to you. Oh, you've acted shamefully against your own kin. Those who come after you will be shamed. You've taken your revenge on me too harshly. You will be separated from all good warriors in disgrace."
The knights all ran to where he lay slain. For enow of them it was a hapless day. He was bewailed by those who had aught of loyalty, and this the brave and lusty knight had well deserved. The king of the Burgundians bemoaned his death. Quoth the deadly wounded: "There is no need that he should weep who hath done the damage; he doth merit mickle blame. It had been better left undone."
The knights all ran to where he lay dead. For many of them, it was an unfortunate day. Those who had any loyalty mourned him, and the brave and strong knight truly deserved that. The king of the Burgundians lamented his death. The mortally wounded said, "There's no need for the one who caused this to cry; he deserves a lot of blame. It would have been better if it had never happened."
Then spake the fierce Hagen: "Forsooth I wot not what ye now bewail. All our fear and all our woe have now an end. We shall find scant few who dare withstand us now. Well is me, that to his rule I have put an end."
Then spoke the fierce Hagen: "Honestly, I don't understand what you're mourning right now. All our fear and suffering have come to an end. There will be very few who dare to stand against us now. I'm glad that I've put an end to his rule."
"Ye may lightly boast you," Siegfried then replied. "Had I wist your murderous bent, I had well guarded my life against you. None doth rue me so sore as Lady Kriemhild, my wife. Now may God have pity that I ever had a son to whom the reproach will be made in after days, that his kindred have slain a man with murderous intent. If I might," so spake Siegfried, "I should rightly make complaint of this." Piteously the deadly wounded spake again: "Noble king, if ye will keep your troth to any in the world, then let my dear love be commended to your grace and let it avail her that she be your sister. For the sake of your princely courtesie protect her faithfully. My father and my men must wait long time for me. Never was woman sorer wounded in a loving friend."
"You might brag a little," Siegfried replied. "If I had known about your murderous intentions, I would have taken better precautions to protect myself from you. No one feels my loss as painfully as my wife, Lady Kriemhild. I pray that God has mercy on me for having a son who will hear in the future that his family killed a man with such intent. If I could, I would certainly complain about this." The mortally wounded man spoke again, distress evident in his voice: "Noble king, if you promise to keep your word to anyone in the world, please commend my dear love to your grace and let it be of use to her that she is your sister. For the sake of your noble courtesy, protect her faithfully. My father and my men will have to wait a long time for me. No woman has ever been more deeply wounded by a loving friend."
The flowers on every side were wet with blood. With death he struggled, but not for long, sith the sword of death had cut him all too sorely. Then the lusty warrior and a brave could speak no more.
The flowers all around were soaked with blood. He fought against death, but not for long, since the sword of death had wounded him too badly. Then the strong warrior and brave man could say no more.
When the lordings saw that the knight was dead, they laid him on a shield of ruddy gold and took counsel how they might conceal that Hagen had done the deed. Enow of them spake: "Ill hath it gone with us. Ye must all hide it and aver alike that robbers slew Kriemhild's husband as he rode alone a-hunting through the pine wood."
When the lords saw that the knight was dead, they placed him on a shield of bright gold and discussed how to cover up that Hagen had committed the act. Many of them said, "This has not gone well for us. You all need to keep quiet and insist that robbers killed Kriemhild's husband while he was riding alone hunting through the pine forest."
Then Hagen of Troneg spake: "I'll bring him home; I care not if it be known to her, for she hath saddened Brunhild's heart. Little doth it trouble me however much she weep."
Then Hagen of Troneg said: "I'll bring him home; I don't care if she knows, because she has made Brunhild sad. It doesn't bother me how much she cries."
ENDNOTES: (1) "Lion." It is hardly necessary to state that lions did not roam at large in the forests of Germany. They were, however, frequently exhibited in the Middle Ages, and the poet introduced one here to enhance Siegfried's fame as a hunter. (2) "Ure-oxen", the auerochs, or European bison, now practically extinct. (3) "Shelk" (M.H.G. "schelch"), probably a species of giant deer. (4) "Fragrance". It was believed that the odor of the panther attracted the game. Compare the description of the panther in the older "Physiologus", where the odor is said to surpass that of all ointments. (5) "Otter" translates here M.H.G. "ludem", whose exact connotation is not known. Some interpret it to meau the fish otter, others the "Waldschrat", a kind of faun. (6) "Balmung", see Adventure III, note 7. (7) "Spessart wood" lies forty to fifty miles east of Worms and is therefore too distant for a day's hunt, but such trifles did not disturb the poet. (8) "Mulled wine", see Adventure VIII, note 5. (9) "Feet". This was probably done as a handicap. The time consumed in rising to his feet would give his opponent quite a start.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Lion." It's hardly worth mentioning that lions didn't roam freely in the forests of Germany. However, they were often shown in the Middle Ages, and the poet included one here to highlight Siegfried's reputation as a hunter. (2) "Ure-oxen", the aurochs, or European bison, which are now almost extinct. (3) "Shelk" (M.H.G. "schelch"), likely a type of giant deer. (4) "Fragrance." It was thought that the scent of the panther attracted the game. Compare the description of the panther in the older "Physiologus", where its scent is said to surpass that of all perfumes. (5) "Otter" translates here M.H.G. "ludem", whose exact meaning isn't clear. Some think it refers to the fish otter, while others interpret it as the "Waldschrat", a kind of faun. (6) "Balmung", see Adventure III, note 7. (7) "Spessart wood" is located forty to fifty miles east of Worms and is therefore too far for a day's hunt, but such details didn't bother the poet. (8) "Mulled wine", see Adventure VIII, note 5. (9) "Feet." This was likely done as a disadvantage. The time it took to get back on his feet would give his opponent quite a head start.
ADVENTURE XVII. How Kriemhild Mourned Her Husband And How He Was Buried.
Then they waited for the night and crossed the Rhine. Never had heroes hunted worse. Noble maids bewept the game they slew. Forsooth many good warriors must needs atone for this in after days. Now ye may hear a tale of great overweening and dire revenge. Hagen bade carry Siegfried of the Nibelung land, thus dead, before the bower where Kriemhild lodged. He bade place him stealthily against the door, that she might find him when she went forth before the break of day to matins, which Lady Kriemhild full seldom missed through sleep.
Then they waited for night and crossed the Rhine. Never had heroes hunted so poorly. Noble maidens mourned the game they killed. Indeed, many good warriors would have to make up for this in the days to come. Now you can hear a story of great arrogance and terrible revenge. Hagen ordered that Siegfried from the Nibelung land, now dead, be carried before the chamber where Kriemhild stayed. He instructed them to place him quietly against the door so she would find him when she went out before dawn for matins, which Lady Kriemhild rarely missed due to sleep.
Men rang the minster bells according to their custom. Lady Kriemhild, the fair, now waked her many maids and bade them bring a light and her vesture, too. Then came a chamberlain and found Siegfried there. He saw him red with blood, his clothes all wet. He wist not it was his lord, but with the light in his hand he hasted to the bower and through this Lady Kriemhild learned the baneful tale. As she would set out with her ladies for the minster, the chamberlain spake: "Pray stay your feet, there doth lie before the chamber a knight, slain unto death."
Men rang the church bells as usual. Lady Kriemhild, the beautiful, woke her many maids and asked them to bring a light and her dress. Then a chamberlain came in and found Siegfried there. He saw him covered in blood, his clothes all wet. He didn’t realize it was his lord, but with the light in his hand, he hurried to the room and through this, Lady Kriemhild learned the terrible news. As she was about to go with her ladies to the church, the chamberlain said: "Please stop, there’s a knight lying dead outside the chamber."
Kriemhild gan make passing sore wail, or ever she heard aright that it was her husband. She began to think of Hagen's question, of how he might protect him. Then first she suffered dole; she renounced all pleasure at his death. To the earth she sank, not a word she spake, and here they found lying the hapless fair. Passing great grew Kriemhild's woe. After her faint, she shrieked, that all the chamber rang. Then her meiny said: "Perchance it is a stranger knight."
Kriemhild let out a heartbreaking wail as she realized it was her husband. She began to remember Hagen's question about how he could protect him. For the first time, she felt deep sorrow; she turned away from all joy at his death. She sank to the ground, speechless, and there they found the unfortunate beauty lying. Kriemhild's grief grew immense. After her faint, she screamed, causing the whole room to echo. Then her attendants said: "Maybe it’s a stranger knight."
The blood gushed from her mouth, from dole of heart; she spake: "'Tis Siegfried, mine own dear husband. Brunhild hath counseled this and Hagen hath done the deed."
The blood poured from her mouth, from the sorrow of her heart; she said: "It's Siegfried, my dear husband. Brunhild advised this and Hagen carried it out."
The lady bade them lead her to where the hero lay. With her white hand she raised his head, and though it was red with blood, she knew him soon. There lay the hero of the Nibelung land in piteous guise. The gracious queen cried sadly: "Oh, woe is me of my sorrow! Thy shield is not carved with swords, thou liest murdered here. Wist I who hath done the deed, I'd ever plot his death."
The lady asked them to take her to where the hero was. With her fair hand, she lifted his head, and even though it was covered in blood, she recognized him quickly. There lay the hero of the Nibelung land in a sorry state. The kind queen lamented: "Oh, how I mourn my grief! Your shield isn’t marked with swords; you lie here murdered. If I knew who did this, I would always plan their death."
All her maids made mourn and wailed with their dear lady, for they grieved full sore for their noble lord whom they had lost. Hagen had cruelly avenged the wrath of Brunhild.
All her maids cried and wailed with their beloved lady, for they were deeply saddened by the loss of their noble lord. Hagen had mercilessly exacted his revenge for Brunhild's anger.
Then spake the grief-stricken dame: "Go now and wake with haste all Siegfried's men. Tell Siegmund also of my grief, mayhap he'll help me bewail brave Siegfried."
Then the grieving woman spoke: "Go now and quickly wake all of Siegfried's men. Tell Siegmund about my sorrow; maybe he'll help me mourn brave Siegfried."
A messenger ran quickly to where lay Siegfried's warriors from the Nibelung land, and with his baleful tidings stole their joy. They could scarce believe it, till they heard the weeping. Right soon the messenger came to where the king did lie. Siegmund, the lord, was not asleep. I trow his heart did tell him what had happed. Never again might he see his dear son alive.
A messenger rushed to where Siegfried's warriors from the Nibelung land were, and with his grim news, he took away their joy. They could hardly believe it until they heard the crying. Soon, the messenger arrived at the king's side. Siegmund, the lord, was not asleep. I believe his heart knew what had happened. He would never see his beloved son alive again.
"Awake, Sir Siegmund; Kriemhild, my lady, bade me go to fetch you. A wrong hath been done her that doth cut her to the heart, more than all other ills. Ye must help her mourn, for much it doth concern you."
"Wake up, Sir Siegmund; Kriemhild, my lady, told me to come get you. She has been wronged in a way that deeply hurts her, more than anything else. You need to help her grieve because it affects you too."
Siegmund sat up; he spake: "What are fair Kriemhild's ills, of which thou tellest me?"
Siegmund sat up and said, "What are the troubles of fair Kriemhild that you’re telling me about?"
Weeping the messenger spake: "I cannot hide them from you; alas, bold Siegfried of Netherland is slain."
Weeping, the messenger said: "I can't hide this from you; unfortunately, brave Siegfried of Netherland is dead."
Quoth Siegmund: "For my sake let be this jesting and such evil tales, that thou shouldst tell any that he be dead, for I might never bewail him fully before my death."
Quoth Siegmund: "For my sake, stop this joking and these terrible stories, that you should say he is dead, for I could never mourn him completely before I die."
"If ye will believe naught of what ye hear me say, then you may hear yourself Kriemhild and all her maids bewailing Siegfried's death."
"If you won’t believe anything I say, then you can listen to Kriemhild and all her maids mourning Siegfried's death."
Siegmund then was sore affrighted, as indeed he had great need. He and a hundred of his men sprang from their beds and grasped with their hands their long sharp swords. In sorrow they ran toward the sound of wail. Then came a thousand men-at-arms, bold Siegfried's men. When they heard the ladies wail so pitifully, some first grew ware that they should dress them. Forsooth they lost their wits for very sorrow. Great heaviness was buried in their hearts.
Siegmund was then very scared, as he had every reason to be. He and a hundred of his men jumped out of bed and grabbed their long, sharp swords. Filled with sorrow, they rushed toward the sound of crying. Then came a thousand warriors, bold Siegfried's soldiers. When they heard the ladies' pitiful cries, some realized they needed to help them. Indeed, they lost their minds from the overwhelming sadness. A deep sadness weighed heavily on their hearts.
Then King Siegmund came to where he found Kriemhild. He spake: "Alas for the journey hither to this land! Who hath so foully bereft me of my child and you of your husband among such good friends?"
Then King Siegmund came to where he found Kriemhild. He said: "Oh, what a terrible journey it has been to this land! Who has so cruelly taken my child from me and you from your husband among such good friends?"
"Oh, if I knew him," spake the noble wife, "neither my heart nor soul would ever wish him well. I would plan such ill against him that his kin must ever weep because of me."
"Oh, if I knew him," said the noble wife, "neither my heart nor soul would ever wish him well. I would scheme such harm against him that his family would always mourn because of me."
Around the prince Lord Siegmund threw his arms. So great grew the sorrow of his kin, that the palace, the hall, and the town of Worms resounded from the mighty wail and weeping. None might now comfort Siegfried's wife. They stripped off the clothes from his fair body; they washed his wounds and laid him on the bier. Woe were his people from their mighty grief. Then spake his warriors from the Nibelung land: "Our hands be ever ready to avenge him; he liveth in this castle who hath done the deed."
Around the prince, Lord Siegmund threw his arms wide. The sorrow of his family grew so intense that the palace, the hall, and the town of Worms echoed with the sound of loud wails and cries. No one could comfort Siegfried's wife now. They removed the clothes from his beautiful body, washed his wounds, and laid him on the bier. His people were overwhelmed by deep grief. Then his warriors from the Nibelung land spoke: "Our hands are always ready to avenge him; the one who committed this act lives in this castle."
All of Siegfried's men hasted then to arms. These chosen knights came with their shields, eleven hundred men-at-arms, whom Lord Siegmund had in his troop. He would fain avenge the death of his son, as indeed he had great need. They wist not to whom they should address their strife, unless it be to Gunther and his men, with whom Lord Siegfried had ridden to the hunt.
All of Siegfried's men quickly grabbed their weapons. These selected knights, eleven hundred warriors from Lord Siegmund's group, were ready. He was eager to avenge his son's death, which he desperately needed to do. They weren't sure whom to confront in battle, other than Gunther and his men, with whom Lord Siegfried had gone to the hunt.
Kriemhild saw them armed, which rued her sore. However great her grief and how dire her need, yet she did so mightily fear the death of the Nibelungs at the hands of her brothers' liegemen, that she tried to hinder it. In kindly wise she warned them, as kinsmen do to loving kin. The grief-stricken woman spake: "My Lord Siegmund, what will ye do? Ye wot naught aright; forsooth King Gunther hath so many valiant men, ye will all be lost, and ye would encounter these knights."
Kriemhild saw them armed, and it pained her deeply. No matter how intense her sorrow or how desperate her situation, she was so afraid of the Nibelungs being killed by her brothers' men that she tried to stop it. In a caring manner, she warned them like family members concerned for each other. The heartbroken woman said: "My Lord Siegmund, what are you planning to do? You don't know what you're getting into; truly King Gunther has so many brave men, and you will all be wiped out if you go up against these knights."
With their shields uncovered, the men stood eager for the fight. The noble queen both begged and bade that the lusty knights avoid it. When they would not give it over, sorely it grieved her. She spake: "Lord Siegmund, ye must let it be until more fitting time, then I'll avenge my husband with you. An' I receive proof who hath bereft me of him, I'll do him scathe. There be too many haughty warriors by the Rhine, wherefore I will not counsel you to fight. They have full well thirty men to each of ours. Now God speed them, as they deserve of us. Stay ye here and bear with me my dole. When it beginneth to dawn, help me, ye lusty knights, to coffin the dear husband of mine."
With their shields uncovered, the men stood ready for battle. The noble queen pleaded and commanded that the eager knights back down. When they refused to relent, it deeply saddened her. She said: "Lord Siegmund, you must wait for a more appropriate time, then I’ll take revenge for my husband with you. If I find out who took him from me, I will make him suffer. There are far too many arrogant warriors by the Rhine, so I won't advise you to fight. They have at least thirty men for every one of ours. Now God protect them, as they deserve from us. Stay here and share my grief with me. When dawn breaks, help me, you eager knights, to bury my dear husband."
Quoth the knights: "That shall be done."
Quoth the knights: "That will be done."
None might tell you all the marvel of knights and ladies, how they were heard to wail, so that even in the town men marked the sound of weeping. The noble burghers hasted hither. With the guests they wept, for they, too, were sore aggrieved. None had told them of any guilt of Siegfried, or for what cause the noble warrior lost his life. The wives of the worthy burghers wept with the ladies of the court. Men bade smiths haste to work a coffin of silver and of gold, mickle and strong, and make it firm with strips of good hard steel. Sad of heart were all the folk.
No one could explain all the wonders of knights and ladies, how they were heard crying, so much so that even the townspeople noticed the sound of grief. The noble citizens rushed in. Alongside the guests, they mourned, for they were deeply saddened as well. No one had informed them of any wrongdoing by Siegfried or why the noble warrior had lost his life. The wives of the respected citizens wept with the court ladies. Men urged blacksmiths to quickly create a coffin of silver and gold, large and strong, and to reinforce it with strips of sturdy steel. Everyone was heartbroken.
The night was gone, men said the day was dawning. Then the noble lady bade them bear Lord Siegfried, her loved husband, to the minster. Whatever friends he had there were seen weeping as they went. Many bells were ringing as they brought him to the church. On every side one heard the chant of many priests. Then came King Gunther with his men and grim Hagen also toward the sound of wail. He spake: "Alas for thy wrongs, clear sister, that we may not be free from this great scathe. We must ever lament for Siegfried's death."
The night had passed, and people said the day was breaking. Then the noble lady asked them to take Lord Siegfried, her beloved husband, to the church. All his friends there were seen crying as they went. Many bells were ringing as they brought him to the church. All around, you could hear the chants of many priests. Then King Gunther and his men, along with the grim Hagen, approached, drawn by the sound of mourning. He said: "Oh, how tragic for you, dear sister, that we cannot escape this great sorrow. We will always grieve for Siegfried's death."
"That ye do without cause," spake the sorrow-laden wife. "Were this loth to you, it never would have happed. I may well aver, ye thought not on me, when I thus was parted from my dear husband. Would to God," quoth Kriemhild, "that it had happed to me."
"You're doing this for no reason," said the grieving wife. "If you really didn't want to, it wouldn't have happened. I can confidently say you didn't think of me when I was separated from my beloved husband. I wish to God," Kriemhild said, "that it had happened to me."
Firmly they made denial. Kriemhild gan speak: "Whoso declareth him guiltless, let him show that now. He must walk to the bier before all the folk; thereby one may know the truth eftsoon."
Firmly they denied it. Kriemhild said: "Whoever claims to be innocent, let him prove it now. He must walk to the bier in front of everyone; that way, we can find out the truth soon."
This is a great marvel, which oft doth hap; whenever the blood-stained murderer is seen to stand by the dead, the latter's wounds do bleed, (1) as indeed happed here, whereby one saw the guilt was Hagen's. The wounds bled sore, as they had done at first. Much greater grew the weeping of those who wailed afore.
This is an incredible sight that often happens; whenever the blood-stained murderer is seen standing by the dead, the wounds of the deceased start to bleed, as happened here, revealing that Hagen was guilty. The wounds bled profusely, just as they did at first. The cries of those mourning grew even louder than before.
Then spake King Gunther: "I'd have you know that robbers slew him; Hagen did not do the deed."
Then King Gunther said, "I want you to know that it was robbers who killed him; Hagen didn't do it."
"I know these robbers well," quoth she. "Now may God yet let his friends avenge it. Certes, Gunther and Hagen, 'twas done by you."
"I know these robbers well," she said. "Now may God allow his friends to take revenge. Surely, Gunther and Hagen, it was you who did this."
Siegfried's knights were now bent on strife. Then Kriemhild spake again: "Now share with me this grief."
Siegfried's knights were now focused on conflict. Then Kriemhild said again: "Now, share this sorrow with me."
Gernot, her brother, and young Giselher, these twain now came to where they found him dead. They mourned him truly with the others; Kriemhild's men wept inly. Now should mass be sung, so on every side, men, wives, and children did hie them to the minster. Even those who might lightly bear his loss, wept then for Siegfried. Gernot and Giselher spake: "Sister mine, now comfort thee after this death, as needs must be. We'll try to make it up to thee, the while we live."
Gernot, her brother, and young Giselher arrived at the place where they found him dead. They truly mourned him alongside the others; Kriemhild's men wept deeply. It was time to hold a mass, so people—men, women, and children—rushed to the church. Even those who could usually bear his loss lightly shed tears for Siegfried. Gernot and Giselher said, "Sister, you must find some comfort after this death, as you have to. We'll do our best to support you for as long as we live."
Yet none in the world might give her comfort. His coffin was ready well towards midday. From the bier whereon he lay they raised him. The lady would not have that he be buried, so that all the folk had mickle trouble. In a rich cloth of silk they wound the dead. I ween, men found none there that did not weep. Uta, the noble dame, and all her meiny mourned bitterly the stately man. When it was noised abroad that men sang in the minster and had encoffined him, then rose a great press of folk. What offerings they made for his soul's sake! He had good friends enow among these foes. Poor Kriemhild spake to her chamberlains: "Ye must now be put to trouble for my sake, ye who wished him well and be my friends. For Siegfried's soul shall ye deal out his gold."
Yet no one in the world could comfort her. His coffin was ready by midday. They lifted him from the bier where he lay. The lady insisted he not be buried, which caused a lot of trouble for everyone. They wrapped the deceased in a rich silk cloth. I believe there wasn't a person present who didn't weep. Uta, the noble lady, and all her household mourned deeply for the honorable man. When word spread that they were singing in the church and had placed him in the coffin, a huge crowd gathered. What offerings they made for his soul! He had many good friends among those who were his enemies. Poor Kriemhild spoke to her attendants: "You must be troubled on my behalf, you who wished him well and are my friends. For Siegfried's soul, you will distribute his gold."
No child, however small, that had its wits, but must go to service, or ever he was buried. Better than a hundred masses were sung that day. Great throng was there of Siegfried's friends.
No child, no matter how young, who had any sense, could avoid going to work before being buried. That day was better than a hundred masses sung. There was a huge crowd of Siegfried's friends there.
When that mass was sung, the folk went hence. Then Lady Kriemhild spake: "Pray let me not hold vigil over the chosen knight this night alone. With him all my joys have come to fall. I will let him lie in state three days and nights, until I sate me with my dear lord. What if God doth bid that death should take me too. Then had ended well the grief of me, poor Kriemhild."
When that mass was sung, the people went away. Then Lady Kriemhild said: "Please don't make me keep watch over the chosen knight alone tonight. With him, all my joys have passed. I will let him lie in state for three days and nights, until I've had my fill of my dear lord. What if God decides that death should take me as well? Then my sorrow, poor Kriemhild, would come to a good end."
The people of the town returned now to their lodgings. She begged the priests and monks and all his retinue, that served the knight, to stay. They spent full evil nights and toilsome days; many a man remained without all food and drink. For those who would partake, it was made known that men would give them to the full. This Sir Siegmund purveyed. Then were the Nibelungs made acquaint with mickle toil. During the three days, as we hear tell, those who knew how to sing, were made to bear a deal of work. What offerings men brought them! Those who were very poor, grew rich enow. Whatever of poor men there were, the which had naught, these were bid go to mass with gold from Siegfried's treasure chamber. Since he might not live, many thousand marks of gold were given for his soul. She dealt out well-tilled lands, wherever cloisters and pious folk were found. Enow of gold and silver was given to the poor. By her deeds she showed that she did love him fondly.
The people of the town returned to their homes. She urged the priests, monks, and all the knights who served the nobleman to stay. They spent many miserable nights and exhausting days; many went without food and drink. For those who wanted to eat, it was announced that food would be provided generously. This was arranged by Sir Siegmund. Then the Nibelungs faced a lot of hard work. During those three days, as we’ve heard, those who could sing were put to work. What gifts people brought them! Those who were very poor became quite wealthy. The poor people who had nothing were invited to attend mass with gold from Siegfried's treasure. Since he could not live, thousands of marks of gold were given for his soul. She distributed well-cultivated lands wherever monasteries and good people were found. A sufficient amount of gold and silver was given to the needy. Through her actions, she showed that she loved him deeply.
Upon the third morning at time of mass, the broad churchyard by the minster was full of weeping country folk. They served him after death, as one should do to loving kin. In the four days, as hath been told, full thirty thousand marks or better still were given to the poor for his soul's sake. Yet his great beauty and his life lay low. When God had been served and the chants were ended, much people fought 'gainst monstrous grief. Men bade bear him from the minster to the grave. Those were seen to weep and wail who missed him most. With loud laments the people followed hence; none was merry, neither wife nor man. They sang and read a service before they buried him. Ho, what good priests were present at his burial! Ere Siegfried's wife was come to the grave, her faithful heart was rung with grief, so that they must needs oft sprinkle her with water from the spring. Her pain was passing great; a mickle wonder it was that she ever lived. Many a lady helped her in her plaint.
On the third morning during mass, the large churchyard by the minster was filled with grieving villagers. They honored him after death, just as one should do for loved ones. In the four days that had passed, as mentioned earlier, more than thirty thousand marks were given to the poor for his soul's sake. Yet his great beauty and life now lay in repose. Once God had been worshiped and the chants concluded, many struggled against overwhelming sorrow. People called for him to be carried from the minster to the grave. Those who missed him the most were seen weeping and wailing. With loud cries, the crowd followed to the burial site; no one was cheerful, neither man nor woman. They sang and performed a service before laying him to rest. Oh, what good priests were there at his funeral! Before Siegfried's wife arrived at the grave, her faithful heart was burdened with grief, so much so that they often had to sprinkle her with water from the spring. Her pain was immense; it was truly remarkable that she lived at all. Many ladies gathered to offer their support in her sorrow.
Then spake the queen: "Ye men of Siegfried, by your loyalty must ye prove your love to me. Let me receive this little favor after all my woe, that I may see once more his comely head."
Then the queen said: "You men of Siegfried, you must prove your love for me through your loyalty. Grant me this small favor after all my suffering, so I can see his handsome head one more time."
She begged so long, with griefs strong will, that they must needs break open the lordly casket. Then men brought the lady to where he lay. With her white hand she raised his fair head and kissed the noble knight and good, thus dead. Tears of blood her bright eyes wept from grief. Then there happed a piteous parting. Men bare her hence, she could not walk, and soon they found the high-born lady lying senseless. Fain would the lovely fair have died of grief.
She pleaded for so long, with a strong will filled with sorrow, that they had no choice but to open the grand chest. Then they brought her to where he lay. With her delicate hand, she lifted his beautiful head and kissed the noble and good knight, now dead. Her bright eyes wept tears of blood from her grief. Then came a heart-wrenching farewell. They carried her away as she could not walk, and soon they found the high-born lady lying unconscious. The lovely woman would have gladly died from her sorrow.
When they had now buried the noble lord, those who were come with him from the Nibelung land were seen to suffer from unmeasured grief. Men found Siegmund full seldom merry then. There were those that for three days would neither eat nor drink for passing grief. Yet might they not so waste away their bodies, but that they recovered from their sorrows, as still happeneth oft enow.
When they had buried the noble lord, those who had come with him from the Nibelung land were seen to be suffering from immense grief. People found Siegmund rarely cheerful during that time. Some of them went for three days without eating or drinking because of their overwhelming sorrow. However, they couldn’t waste away completely, and eventually, they did recover from their sadness, as often happens.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Bleed". This was not only a popular superstition, but also a legal practice in case of a murder when the criminal had not been discovered, or if any one was suspected. The suspected person was requested to approach the bier and touch the body, in the belief that the blood would flow afresh if the one touching the body were guilty. Our passage is the first instance of its mention in German literature. A similar one occurs in "Iwein", 1355-1364. The usage was also known in France and England. See the instances quoted by Jacob Grimm in his "Rechtsaltertumer", 930.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Bleed". This was not only a popular superstition, but also a legal practice in cases of murder when the criminal hadn't been caught or when someone was suspected. The suspected person was asked to approach the bier and touch the body, with the belief that the blood would flow afresh if the person touching the body was guilty. Our passage is the first instance of its mention in German literature. A similar one appears in "Iwein", 1355-1364. This practice was also known in France and England. See the examples quoted by Jacob Grimm in his "Rechtsaltertumer", 930.
ADVENTURE XVIII. How Siegmund Journeyed Home Again.
Kriemhild's husband's father went to where he found her. Unto the queen he spake: "We must unto our land; by the Rhine, I ween, we be unwelcome guests. Kriemhild, dear lady, now journey with me to my lands. Albeit treachery here in these lands hath bereft us of your noble husband, yet should ye not requite this. I will be friendly to you for my dear son's sake, of this shall ye have no doubt. Ye shall have, my lady, all the power which Siegfried, the bold knight, gave you aforetime. The land and also the crown shall be subject to you. All Siegfried's men shall serve you gladly."
Kriemhild's father-in-law went to find her. He said to the queen, "We need to go to our homeland; I believe we are unwelcome visitors here by the Rhine. Kriemhild, dear lady, come with me to my lands. Even though treachery here has taken your noble husband from us, you should not seek revenge for that. I will be kind to you for my dear son's sake; you can count on that. You will have, my lady, all the power that Siegfried, the brave knight, gave you before. The land and the crown will be yours. All of Siegfried's men will serve you willingly."
Then the squires were told that they must ride away. A mickle hurrying for steeds was seen, for they were loth to stay with their deadly foes. Men bade dames and maidens seek their robes. When that King Siegmund would fain have ridden forth, Kriemhild's mother gan beg her that she stay there with her kindred.
Then the squires were told that they had to ride away. There was a rush to get the horses because they didn’t want to stay with their deadly enemies. Men told the ladies and maidens to find their dresses. When King Siegmund was eager to ride out, Kriemhild's mother begged her to stay there with her family.
The royal lady answered: "That might hardly hap. How could I bear the sight of him from whom such great wrong hath happed to me, poor wife?"
The royal lady replied, "That’s unlikely to happen. How could I stand to see him who has caused me such great suffering, poor wife?"
Then spake young Giselher: "Dear sister mine, by thy troth thou shouldst stay here with thy mother. Thou dost need no service of them that have grieved thee and saddened thy mood. Live from my goods alone."
Then young Giselher said, "Dear sister, you should stay here with our mother. You don't need to be around those who have hurt you and brought you down. Just live off what I have."
To the warrior she spake: "Certes, it may not hap, for I should die of dole whenever I should gaze on Hagen."
To the warrior she said: "Surely, it cannot happen, for I would die of sorrow whenever I looked at Hagen."
"I'll give thee rede for that, dear sister mine. Thou shalt live with thy brother Giselher, and of a truth I'll comfort thee of thy husband's death."
"I'll give you advice on that, dear sister. You should live with your brother Giselher, and honestly, I'll support you through your husband's death."
Then answered the hapless wife: "Of that hath Kriemhild need."
Then the unfortunate wife replied, "Kriemhild needs that."
When the youth had made her such kindly offer, then gan Uta and Gernot and her faithful kin entreat. They begged her to tarry there, for but little kith she had among Siegfried's men.
When the young woman made her kind offer, Uta and Gernot, along with her loyal relatives, urged her to stay. They pleaded with her to remain there since she had very few connections among Siegfried's men.
"They be all strangers to you," spake Gernot; "none that liveth is so strong but that he must come to die. Consider that, dear sister, and console your mind. Stay with your kinsfolk; ye shall fare well in truth."
"They're all strangers to you," Gernot said. "No one is so strong that they won't eventually die. Think about that, dear sister, and find some peace. Stay with your family; you'll be okay, trust me."
Then she made vow to Giselher that she would stay. The steeds were brought for Siegfried's men, sith they would ride to the Nibelung land. Also all the trappings of the knights were packed upon the sumpters. Then the Lord Siegmund hied him to Kriemhild's side. To the lady he spake: "Siegfried's men are waiting by the steeds. Now must we ride away, for I be ill content in Burgundy."
Then she made a pledge to Giselher that she would stay. The horses were brought for Siegfried's men, since they would ride to the Nibelung land. Also, all the gear of the knights was loaded onto the pack animals. Then Lord Siegmund hurried to Kriemhild's side. He said to her, "Siegfried's men are waiting by the horses. We need to leave now, as I'm not happy in Burgundy."
The Lady Kriemhild then replied: "All that I have of faithful kin advise me that I stay here with them; I have no kith in the Nibelung land."
The Lady Kriemhild then replied: "Everyone I trust advises me to stay here with them; I have no family in the Nibelung land."
Loth it was to Siegmund, when that he found Kriemhild of this mind. He spake: "Let no one tell you that. Before all my kinsmen ye shall wear the crown with such sovran power as ye did aforetime. Ye shall not suffer, because we have lost the knight. Ride also with us home again, for the sake of your little child. Lady, ye should not leave him orphaned. When your son groweth up, he will comfort your heart. Meanwhile many bold heroes and good shall serve you."
Siegmund was deeply troubled when he discovered Kriemhild felt this way. He said, "Don’t listen to anyone who tells you otherwise. In front of all my relatives, you will wear the crown with the same authority you had before. You shouldn’t suffer just because we lost the knight. Come ride home with us for the sake of your little child. You shouldn’t leave him orphaned. When your son grows up, he will bring you comfort. In the meantime, many brave and good heroes will serve you."
"Sir Siegmund," quoth she, "forsooth I like not for to ride. Whatever fortune, here must I tarry with my kindred, who help me mourn."
"Sir Siegmund," she said, "I really don't want to ride. No matter what happens, I have to stay here with my family, who are helping me grieve."
These tales gan now displease the doughty warriors. All spake alike: "We might well aver that now first hath ill befallen us. If ye would stay here with our foes, then have heroes never ridden to court more sorrowfully."
These stories now upset the brave warriors. They all spoke in unison: "We can confidently say that this is the first time disaster has struck us. If you choose to stay here with our enemies, then no heroes have ever arrived at court with more sadness."
"Ye shall journey free of care, commended unto God; ye shall be given safe-conduct to Siegmund's land, I'll bid them guard you well. To the care of you knights shall my dear child be given."
"You will travel without worry, entrusted to God; you will be granted safe passage to Siegmund's land, and I will ask them to keep you safe. My dear child will be placed in the care of you knights."
When they marked that she would not go hence, then wept all of Siegmund's men alike. How right sorrowfully Siegmund parted then from Lady Kriemhild! He became acquaint with grief. "Woe worth this courtly feasting," spake the noble king. "Through pastime will nevermore hap to king or to his kinsmen, what here hath happed to us. Men shall see us nevermore in Burgundy."
When they realized that she wouldn't leave, all of Siegmund's men wept together. How sadly Siegmund said goodbye to Lady Kriemhild! He learned what grief was. "What a terrible fate this courtly celebration has brought," said the noble king. "Because of this entertainment, nothing good will ever happen again for the king or his family, just like what has happened to us here. People will never see us in Burgundy again."
Then Siegfried's men spake openly: "A journey to this land might still take place, if we discovered aright him who slew our lord. Enow of his kinsmen be their deadly foes."
Then Siegfried's men spoke openly: "A journey to this land could still happen if we figure out who killed our lord. Many of his relatives are their deadly enemies."
He kissed Kriemhild; how sorrowfully he spake, when he perceived aright that she would stay: "Now let us ride joyless home unto our land, now first do I feel all my sorrow."
He kissed Kriemhild; how sadly he spoke when he realized she would stay: "Now let’s ride home to our land without joy, now I truly feel all my sorrow."
Down to the Rhine from Worms they rode without an escort. They were surely of the mind that they, the bold Nibelungs, could well defend them, should they be encountered in hostile wise. Leave they asked of none, but Gernot and Giselher were seen to go to Siegmund in loving wise. These brave and lusty knights convinced him that they mourned his loss. Courteously Prince Gernot spake: "God in heaven knoweth well that I be not to blame for Siegfried's death, nor heard I ever that any was his foe. I mourn him justly."
Down to the Rhine from Worms they rode without a guard. They were confident that they, the brave Nibelungs, could defend themselves if they came across any trouble. They didn’t seek permission from anyone, but Gernot and Giselher were seen approaching Siegmund with kindness. These courageous and spirited knights assured him they were grieving for his loss. Courteously, Prince Gernot said: "God in heaven knows well that I am not to blame for Siegfried's death, nor have I ever heard of anyone being his enemy. I truly mourn him."
Giselher, the youth, gave them then safe-conduct. Sorrowly he led them from the land home to Netherland. How few kinsman were found joyous then!
Giselher, the young man, then granted them safe passage. Sadly, he led them from the land back to the Netherlands. How few relatives were found to be happy then!
How they now fared at Worms I cannot tell. All time men heard Kriemhild mourn, so that none might comfort her heart nor mind, save Giselher alone; loyal he was and good. Brunhild, the fair, sate in overweening pride. How Kriemhild wept, she recked not, nor did she ever show her love or troth. Lady Kriemhild wrought her in after days the bitterest woe of heart.
How they did at Worms, I can't say. All the time, everyone heard Kriemhild crying, and no one could comfort her, except for Giselher; he was loyal and good. Brunhild, the beautiful, sat there in arrogant pride. She didn’t care about Kriemhild’s tears, nor did she ever show her love or loyalty. Lady Kriemhild later caused her the greatest sorrow.
ADVENTURE XIX. How The Nibelung Hoard Was Brought to Worms.
When the noble Kriemhild thus was widowed, the Margrave Eckewart with his vassals stayed with her in the land, and served her alway. He also often helped his mistress mourn his lord. At Worms, hard by the minster, they built for her a dwelling, broad and passing large, costly and great, where, with her maids, she since dwelt joyless. She liked for to go to church and did this willingly. Where her love lay buried, thither she went all time in mournful mood (how seldom she gave that over). She prayed the good God to have mercy on her soul. With great fidelity she bewept the knight full oft. Uta and her meiny comforted her all time, but so sorely wounded was her heart, that it booted naught, whatever comfort men did offer her. She had the greatest longing for her dear love, that ever wife did have for loving husband. One might see thereby her passing virtue; until her end she mourned, the while life lasted. In after days brave Siegfried's wife avenged herself with might.
When the noble Kriemhild became a widow, Margrave Eckewart and his vassals stayed with her in the land and always served her. He often helped her mourn her lord. At Worms, near the minster, they built her a residence, spacious and grand, costly and impressive, where she lived with her maids, feeling joyless. She liked to go to church and did so willingly. She frequently visited the place where her love was buried, always in a somber mood (she rarely stopped doing this). She prayed to God for mercy on his soul. With deep devotion, she often wept for the knight. Uta and her ladies provided comfort, but her heart was so deeply wounded that no comfort offered by anyone helped. She longed for her dear love as much as any wife does for her loving husband. You could see her immense virtue in this; she mourned until her last days. In later times, brave Siegfried's wife sought revenge with great strength.
Thus she dwelt after her sorrow, after her husband's death, and this is true, well three and one half years, that she spake no word to Gunther, nor did she see her foeman Hagen in all this time.
Thus she lived on after her sorrow, after her husband's death, and this is true, for three and a half years, that she spoke no word to Gunther, nor did she see her foe Hagen during all this time.
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "If ye could compass it to make your sister friendly, then might come to these lands the gold of Nibelung. Of this might ye win great store, an' the queen would be our friend."
Then spoke Hagen of Troneg: "If you could manage to make your sister friendly, then the gold of Nibelung could come to these lands. You could gain a great amount from this, and the queen would be our ally."
The king made answer: "Let us try. My brothers bide with her; we will beg them to bring it to pass that she be our friend, if perchance she might gladly see us win the hoard."
The king replied, "Let's give it a shot. My brothers will stay with her; we'll ask them to see if they can make her our ally, in case she would be happy to see us win the treasure."
"I trow not," spake Hagen, "that it will ever hap."
"I don't think," said Hagen, "that it will ever happen."
Then he bade Ortwin and the Margrave Gere go to court. When that was done, Gernot and Giselher, the youth, were also brought. They tried it with the Lady Kriemhild in friendly wise. Brave Gernot of Burgundy spake: "Lady, ye mourn too long for Siegfried's death. The king will give you proof that he hath not slain him. We hear you mourn all time so greatly."
Then he told Ortwin and Margrave Gere to go to court. Once that was taken care of, Gernot and young Giselher were also summoned. They approached Lady Kriemhild in a friendly manner. Brave Gernot of Burgundy said, "Lady, you grieve too much for Siegfried's death. The king will provide proof that he didn't kill him. We notice your mourning continues so deeply."
She spake: "None chargeth him with this. 'Twas Hagen's hand that struck him, where he could be wounded. When he learned this of me, how could I think that he did bear him hate? Else had I guarded against this full well," spake the queen, "so that I had not betrayed his life; then would I, poor wife, leave off my weeping. I'll never be a friend of him that did the deed." Then Giselher, the full stately man, began implore.
She said, "No one blames him for this. It was Hagen's hand that dealt the blow where he could be hurt. When he found this out from me, how could I believe that he held any hatred for him? Otherwise, I would have taken greater care to protect his life; then I, poor wife, would stop my crying. I'll never be a friend to the one who did this." Then Giselher, the truly dignified man, started to plead.
When at last she spake: "I will greet the king," men saw him stand before her with his nearest kin, but Hagen durst not come before her. Well he wot his guilt; 'twas he had caused her dole. When now she would forego her hate of Gunther, so that he might kiss her, it had befitted him better had she not been wronged by his advice; then might he have gone boldly unto Kriemhild. Nevermore was peace between kindred brought to pass with so many tears; her loss still gave her woe. All, save the one man alone, she pardoned. None had slain him, had not Hagen done the deed.
When she finally spoke, "I will greet the king," everyone saw him standing in front of her with his closest relatives, but Hagen didn't dare approach her. He knew he was guilty; he was the one who had caused her suffering. Now that she was ready to let go of her hatred for Gunther so he could kiss her, it would have been better for him if she hadn’t been wronged by his advice; then he could have approached Kriemhild freely. Never before had peace between families been achieved with so many tears; her loss still brought her pain. She forgave everyone except for one man. No one would have killed him if Hagen hadn't committed the act.
Not long thereafter they brought it to pass that Lady Kriemhild gained the hoard from the Nibelung land and brought it to the Rhine. It was her marriage morning gift (1) and was hers by right. Giselher and Gernot rode to fetch it. Kriemhild ordered eighty hundred men, that they should bring it from where it lay hid, where it was guarded by the knight Alberich (2) and his nearest kin. When they saw those from the Rhine coming for the hoard, Alberich, the bold, spake to his friends: "Naught of the treasure dare we withhold from her, sith the noble queen averreth it to be her marriage morning gift. Yet should this never be done," quoth Alberich, "but that with Siegfried we have foully lost the good Cloud Cloak, for fair Kriemhild's love did wear it alway. Now, alas, it hath fared ill with Siegfried, that the hero bereft us of the Cloud Cloak and that all this land did have to serve him."
Not long after, Lady Kriemhild obtained the treasure from the Nibelung land and brought it to the Rhine. It was her marriage morning gift (1) and rightfully hers. Giselher and Gernot rode to retrieve it. Kriemhild ordered eighty hundred men to bring it from where it was hidden, guarded by the knight Alberich (2) and his close relatives. When they saw the people from the Rhine coming for the treasure, Alberich, the brave, said to his friends: "We can't hold back any of the treasure from her since the noble queen claims it as her marriage morning gift. Yet, this should never have happened," said Alberich, "if we hadn't tragically lost the good Cloud Cloak along with Siegfried, for fair Kriemhild always wore it. Now, alas, it has gone poorly for Siegfried, that the hero deprived us of the Cloud Cloak and that all this land had to serve him."
Then went the warder to where he found the keys. Before the castle stood Kriemhild's liegemen and a deal of her kinsfolk. Men bade carry the treasure hence to the sea, down to the boats; one bare it then upon the waves to the mountains on the Rhine. Now may ye hear marvels of the hoard, the which twelve huge wains, packed full, were just able to bear away from the hill in four days and nights and each must make the trip three times a day. There was naught else but gems and gold, and had men paid therewith the wage of all the world, not a mark less had it been in worth. Forsooth Hagen did not crave it so without good cause. The greatest prize of all was a wishing-rod (3) of gold. He who knew its nature, might well be master over any man in all the world.
Then the guard went to where he found the keys. In front of the castle stood Kriemhild's vassals and many of her relatives. They ordered the treasure to be taken down to the sea, to the boats; one then carried it across the waves to the mountains by the Rhine. Now you can hear tales of the hoard, which took twelve massive carts, completely loaded, four days and nights to transport from the hill, and each cart had to make the trip three times a day. It was nothing but gems and gold, and if men had used it to pay for everything in the world, it still wouldn't have been worth any less. Indeed, Hagen didn’t desire it without a good reason. The greatest prize of all was a golden wishing-rod. He who understood its power could easily master any man in the world.
Many of Alberich's kinsmen journeyed with Gernot hence. When they stored away the hoard in Gunther's land and the queen took charge of everything, chambers and towers were filled therewith. Never did men hear tales told of such wondrous store of goods. And had it been a thousand times as much, if the Lord Siegfried were but alive again, Kriemhild would fain have stood empty-handed at his side. No more faithful wife did hero ever win. Now that she had the hoard, she brought many unknown warriors to the land. In truth the lady's hand gave in such wise that men have never seen such bounty more. She used great courtesie; men owned this of the queen. To the rich and the poor she began to give so greatly that Hagen said, should she live yet a while, she would gain so many a man for her service that they would fare full ill.
Many of Alberich's relatives traveled with Gernot from there. When they stored the treasure in Gunther's land and the queen took control of everything, the halls and towers were filled with it. People had never heard stories of such an incredible collection of goods. And if it had been a thousand times greater, if Lord Siegfried were alive again, Kriemhild would still have preferred to stand empty-handed by his side. No more loyal wife did any hero ever win. Now that she had the treasure, she brought many unknown warriors to the land. Truly, the lady’s generosity was such that no one had ever seen such abundance before. She showed great kindness; everyone recognized this about the queen. To both the rich and the poor, she began giving so generously that Hagen remarked if she kept it up much longer, she would gather so many followers for her service that they would fare quite poorly.
Then spake King Gunther: "Her life and her goods be hers. How shall I hinder that she do with them as she will? Forsooth I hardly compassed it, that she became thus much my friend. Let us not reck to whom she deal out her silver and her gold."
Then King Gunther said, "Her life and her possessions are hers. How can I stop her from doing as she wishes with them? Honestly, I barely managed to earn her friendship. Let's not worry about to whom she gives her silver and gold."
Spake Hagen to the king: "No doughty man should leave to any wife aught of the heard. With her gifts she'll bring about the day when it well may rue the brave Burgundians sore."
Spoke Hagen to the king: "No brave man should leave anything of the treasure to any wife. With her gifts, she'll bring about the day when the courageous Burgundians will deeply regret it."
Then spake King Gunther: "I swore an oath, that nevermore would I do her harm, and will keep it further, for she is my sister."
Then King Gunther said, "I made a promise that I would never harm her again, and I will stick to it because she is my sister."
Spake then Hagen: "Let me be the guilty one."
Spoke then Hagen: "Let me be the one at fault."
Few of their oaths were kept. From the widow they took the mighty store and Hagen made him master of all the keys. This vexed her brother Gernot, when he heard the tale aright. Lord Giselher spake: "Hagen hath done my sister much of harm; I should prevent it. It would cost him his life, were he not my kin."
Few of their promises were kept. They took the vast resources from the widow, and Hagen became the master of all the keys. This troubled her brother Gernot when he heard the true story. Lord Giselher said: "Hagen has caused my sister a lot of harm; I must put a stop to it. It would cost him his life if he weren’t my relative."
Siegfried's wife shed tears anew. Then spake the Lord Gernot: "Or ever we be imperiled by the gold, we should have it sunk entirely in the Rhine, that it belong to none."
Siegfried's wife cried again. Then Lord Gernot said, "Before we risk danger from the gold, we should sink it completely in the Rhine so that it belongs to no one."
Full pitifully she went before her brother Giselher. She spake: "Dear brother, thou shouldst think of me and be the guardian of both my life and goods."
Full of sorrow, she approached her brother Giselher. She said, "Dear brother, you should think of me and protect both my life and my belongings."
Quoth he then to the lady: "That shall be done when we return again, for now we think to ride."
Quoth he then to the lady: "That will be done when we come back, but for now, we plan to ride."
The king and his kindred voided then the land, the very best among them that one might find. Only Hagen alone remained at home, through the hatred he bare to Kriemhild, and did so willingly. Before the king was come again, Hagen had taken the treasure quite and sunk it all at Loche, (4) in the Rhine. He weened to use it, but that might not be. The lordings came again and with them many men. With her maids and ladies Kriemhild gan bewail her passing loss, for sore it grieved them. Gladly would Giselher have helped in all good faith. All spake alike: "He hath done wrong."
The king and his relatives then left the land, the best of it that anyone could find. Only Hagen stayed behind, due to his hatred for Kriemhild, and he did so willingly. Before the king returned, Hagen had taken all the treasure and sunk it in the Rhine at Loche. He intended to use it, but that was not to be. The lords returned, along with many others. With her ladies and maids, Kriemhild began to mourn her great loss, for it deeply saddened them. Giselher would have gladly helped in all good faith. Everyone agreed, "He has done wrong."
Hagen avoided the princes' wrath, until he gained their favor. They did him naught, but Kriemhild might never have borne him greater hate. Before Hagen of Troneg thus hid the treasure, they had sworn with mighty oaths that it should lie concealed as long as any one of them might live. Later they could not give it to themselves or any other.
Hagen stayed out of the princes' anger until he won their favor. They did nothing to him, but Kriemhild could never have hated him more. Before Hagen of Troneg hid the treasure, they had sworn with powerful oaths that it would remain hidden for as long as any of them lived. Later, they couldn't give it to themselves or anyone else.
Kriemhild's mind was heavy with fresh sorrow over her husband's end, and because they had taken from her all her wealth. Her plaints ceased not in all her life, down to her latest day. After Siegfried's death, and this is true, she dwelt with many a grief full thirteen years, that she could not forget the warrior's death. She was true to him, as most folk owned.
Kriemhild was filled with fresh sorrow over her husband's death and the loss of all her wealth. She never stopped lamenting throughout her life, right until her last day. After Siegfried's death, she lived with her grief for a full thirteen years, unable to forget the warrior's passing. Most people agreed that she remained loyal to him.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Marriage morning gift" was the gift which it was customary for the bridegroom to give the bride on the morning after the bridal night. On this custom see Weinhold, "Deutsche Frauen im Mittelalter", i, p. 402. (2) "Alberich", see Adventure III, note 8. It is characteristic of the poem that even this dwarf is turned into a knight. (3) "Wishing-rod", a magic device for discovering buried treasure. Cf. Grimm, "Deutsche Mythologie," ii, 813. (4) "Loche", according to Piper, is the modern "Locheim" in the Rhine province.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Marriage morning gift" refers to the gift that the groom would traditionally give the bride on the morning following their wedding night. For more on this custom, see Weinhold, "Deutsche Frauen im Mittelalter", i, p. 402. (2) "Alberich," see Adventure III, note 8. It's typical of the poem that even this dwarf becomes a knight. (3) "Wishing-rod," a magical tool for finding hidden treasure. See Grimm, "Deutsche Mythologie," ii, 813. (4) "Loche," according to Piper, is the modern "Locheim" in the Rhine region.
ADVENTURE XX. How King Etzel (1) Sent To Burgundy For Kriemhild.
That was in a time when Lady Helca (2) died and the king Etzel sought another wife, that his friends advised his marriage to a proud widow in the Burgundian land, hight Lady Kriemhild. Since fair Helca was dead, they spake: "Would ye gain a noble wife, the highest and the best king ever won, then take this same lady; the stalwart Siegfried was her husband."
That was in a time when Lady Helca (2) died and King Etzel looked for another wife. His friends suggested he marry a proud widow from the Burgundian lands named Lady Kriemhild. Since fair Helca was gone, they said, "If you want a noble wife, the finest and best the king has ever had, then choose this lady; the strong Siegfried was her husband."
Then spake the mighty king: "How might that chance, sith I am heathen and be christened not a whit, whereas the lady is a Christian and therefore would not plight her troth? It would be a marvel, and that ever happed."
Then the mighty king said, "How could that happen, since I'm a heathen and not a bit baptized, while the lady is a Christian and therefore wouldn't pledge her loyalty? That would be a miracle, and it would be quite the surprise."
The doughty warriors answered: "What if she do it, perchance, for the sake of your high name and your mickle goods? One should at least make a trial for the noble dame. Well may ye love the stately fair."
The brave warriors replied, "What if she might do it, perhaps, for the sake of your esteemed name and your great wealth? One should at least give it a shot for the noble lady. It's perfectly reasonable for you to be in love with the elegant beauty."
The noble king then spake: "Which of you be acquaint with the people and the land by the Rhine?"
The noble king then said: "Which of you is familiar with the people and the land by the Rhine?"
Up spake then the good knight Rudeger of Bechelaren: (3) "I have known from a child the three noble and lordly kings, Gunther and Gernot, the noble knights and good; the third hight Giselher. Each of them doth use the highest honors and courtesie, as their forebears, too, have always done."
Up spoke then the good knight Rudeger of Bechelaren: (3) "I have known since childhood the three noble and commanding kings, Gunther and Gernot, the noble and honorable knights; the third is named Giselher. Each of them upholds the highest honors and courtesy, just as their ancestors have always done."
Then answered Etzel: "Friend, I prithee, tell me whether she should wear the crown in this my land. An' she be so fair, as hath been told me, it shall never rue my dearest kin."
Then Etzel said, "Friend, please tell me if she should wear the crown in my land. If she's as beautiful as I've been told, it will never upset my closest relatives."
"She compareth well in beauty with my Lady Helca, the royal queen. Certes, there might not be in all this world a king's bride more fair. He may well be of good cheer to whom she plight her troth."
"She compares well in beauty with my Lady Helca, the royal queen. Indeed, there might not be a king's bride more beautiful in all this world. He can be quite happy to whom she promises her love."
He spake: "So bring it to pass, Rudeger, as I be dear to thee; and if ever I do lie at Kriemhild's side, I will requite thee for it as best I may. Then hast thou done my will in fullest wise. From my treasure chambers I will bid thee be given such store of horses, of clothes and all thou wilt, that thou and thy fellowship may live full merrily. I'll bid full plenty of these things be made ready against thine errand."
He said, "So make it happen, Rudeger, as I hold you dear; and if I ever lie beside Kriemhild, I will repay you for it as best I can. Then you will have done my will completely. From my treasure rooms, I'll make sure you're given plenty of horses, clothes, and everything else you want, so you and your group can live happily. I'll ensure there's a lot of these things prepared for your mission."
To this the lordly margrave Rudeger replied: "Craved I thy goods, that were not worthy of praise. With mine own goods, which I have from thy hands, will I gladly be thy envoy to the Rhine."
To this, the noble margrave Rudeger replied: "If I had asked for your possessions, that wouldn't be commendable. With my own belongings, which I received from you, I will gladly be your messenger to the Rhine."
Then spake the mighty king: "Now when wilt thou ride for the fair? May God keep thee and my lady in all worship on the journey. May fortune help me, that she look with favor on my suit."
Then the mighty king said, "So when will you ride out for the fair? May God keep you and my lady in good grace during the journey. I hope luck is on my side, so that she looks favorably on my request."
Rudeger made answer: "Ere we void the land, we must first make ready arms and trappings, that we may stand with honor before princes. I will lead to the Rhine five hundred stately men, that wherever in Burgundy I and mine be seen, all may say of thee: 'Never did any king send afar so many men in better wise than thou hast done to the Rhine.' If thou, O mighty king, wilt not turn back on this account, I'll tell thee that her noble love was subject unto Siegfried, Siegmund's son. Him thou hast seen here. (4) Men could in right truth ascribe to him great worship."
Rudeger replied, "Before we leave the land, we need to prepare our weapons and gear so we can stand with honor in front of the princes. I will lead five hundred impressive men to the Rhine, so that wherever in Burgundy I and my men are seen, everyone will say of you: 'No king ever sent so many men so well-prepared to the Rhine.' If you, O mighty king, won't turn back because of this, let me tell you that her noble love was devoted to Siegfried, Siegmund's son. You've seen him here. People could truly attribute great respect to him."
Then spake King Etzel: "Tho' she was the warrior's wife, yet was the noble prince so peerless that I should not disdain the queen. She liketh me well for her passing beauty."
Then spoke King Etzel: "Even though she was the warrior's wife, the noble prince is so exceptional that I would not look down on the queen. She likes me quite a bit for her extraordinary beauty."
The margrave answered: "Then I will tell thee that we will start hence in four and twenty days. I'll send word to Gotelind, my dear lady, that I myself will be the messenger to Kriemhild."
The margrave replied, "Then let me tell you that we will leave in twenty-four days. I'll let Gotelind, my dear lady, know that I will be the one to deliver the message to Kriemhild."
Rudeger sent word to Bechelaren, at which the margravine grew both sorrowful and proud. He told her he should woo for the king a wife. Lovingly she thought on Helca, the fair. When the margravine heard the message, a deal she rued it; weeping beseemed her at the thought whether she should gain a lady as afore. When she thought on Helca, it grieved her heart full sore.
Rudeger sent a message to Bechelaren, which made the margravine both sad and proud. He informed her that he would be finding a wife for the king. She fondly thought of Helca, the beautiful one. When the margravine received the message, she regretted it a lot; it seemed appropriate for her to weep at the thought of possibly losing a lady as she had before. The thought of Helca deeply saddened her.
Rudeger should ride in seven days from Hungary; lusty and merry King Etzel was at this. There in the town of Vienna men prepared their weeds. Then might he no longer delay his journey. At Bechelaren Gotelind awaited him; the young margravine, too, Rudeger's child, gladly saw her father and his men. Many fair maids awaited them with joy. Ere the noble Rudeger rode from the city of Vienna to Bechelaren, all their clothes were placed upon the sumpters. They journeyed in such wise that not a whit was taken from them.
Rudeger was set to ride from Hungary in seven days; cheerful King Etzel was involved in this. In the town of Vienna, people were getting ready. He could no longer delay his trip. At Bechelaren, Gotelind was waiting for him; the young margravine, Rudeger's daughter, was also excited to see her father and his men. Many beautiful young women were eagerly anticipating their arrival. Before the noble Rudeger left the city of Vienna for Bechelaren, all their belongings were loaded onto the pack animals. They traveled in such a way that nothing was taken from them.
When they were come to tho town of Bechelaren, the host full lovingly bade lodge his fellowship and ease them well. The noble Gotelind saw the host come gladly, as likewise his dear daughter did, the young margravine. To her his coming could not be liefer. How fain she was to see the heroes from the Hunnish land! With smiling mien the noble maiden spake: "Now be my father and his men full welcome here."
When they arrived in the town of Bechelaren, the host warmly invited his guests to stay and make themselves comfortable. The noble Gotelind was happy to see the host, just like his beloved daughter, the young margravine. She couldn’t have been more delighted to see the heroes from the land of the Huns! With a cheerful expression, the noble maiden said, "Now, may my father and his men feel completely welcome here."
Then great thanks were given to the young margravine by many a doughty knight in courteous wise. Well wot Gotelind Sir Rudeger's mood. When at night she lay close by his side, what kindly questions the margravine put, whither the king of the Huns had sent him. He spake: "My Lady Gotelind, I'll gladly make this known to thee. I must woo another lady for my lord, sith that the fair Helca hath died. I will ride for Kriemhild to the Rhine; she shall become a mighty queen here among the Huns."
Then many brave knights expressed their heartfelt thanks to the young margravine in a courteous manner. Lady Gotelind was well aware of Sir Rudeger's feelings. At night, as she lay close to him, she asked him kind questions about where the king of the Huns had sent him. He replied, "My Lady Gotelind, I'll gladly tell you. I must court another lady for my lord, since the beautiful Helca has died. I will ride to the Rhine for Kriemhild; she will become a powerful queen here among the Huns."
"Would to God," spake Gotelind, "an' that might hap, sith we do hear such speech of her many honors, that she might perchance replace our lady for us in our old age, and that we might be fain to let her wear the crown in Hungary."
"Hopefully," said Gotelind, "if that could happen, since we hear so much talk about her many honors, she might possibly take our lady's place for us in our old age, and we would be glad to let her wear the crown in Hungary."
Then spake the margrave: "My love, ye must offer to those who are to ride with me to the Rhine, your goods in loving wise. When heroes travel richly, then are they of lofty mood."
Then the margrave said, "My love, you must generously offer your goods to those who will ride with me to the Rhine. When heroes travel in style, they are in high spirits."
She spake: "There be none that taketh gladly from my hand, to whom I would not give what well beseemeth him, or ever ye and your men part hence."
She said, "There is no one who gladly accepts from my hand that I wouldn't give what suits him well, or before you and your men leave."
Quoth the margrave: "That doth like me well."
Quoth the margrave: "That pleases me a lot."
Ho, what rich cloths of silk were borne from their treasure chambers! With enow of this the clothing of the noble warriors was busily lined from the neck down to their spurs. Rudeger had chosen only men that pleased him well.
Ho, what luxurious silks were brought from their treasure rooms! With plenty of this, they quickly lined the clothing of the noble warriors from the neck down to their spurs. Rudeger had selected only the men he found pleasing.
On the seventh morning the host and his warriors rode forth from Bechelaren. Weapons and clothes a plenty they took with them through the Bavarian land. Seldom did men assail them on the highways for robbery's sake, and within twelve days they reached the Rhine. Then might the tidings not be hid; men told it to the king and to his liegemen, that stranger guests were come. The host gan say, if any knew them, he should tell him so. One saw their sumpters bear right heavy loads. 'Twas seen that they were passing rich.
On the seventh morning, the host and his warriors set out from Bechelaren. They took plenty of weapons and clothes with them as they traveled through Bavaria. Rarely did anyone attack them on the roads for robbery, and within twelve days they reached the Rhine. Soon the news couldn’t be kept secret; people informed the king and his followers that strange guests had arrived. The host asked if anyone recognized them, to let him know. Their pack animals were burdened with heavy loads, and it was clear they were quite wealthy.
Anon in the broad town men purveyed them quarters. When that the many strangers had been lodged, these same lords were gazed upon full oft. The people wondered from whence these warriors were come to the Rhine. The host now sent for Hagen, if perchance they might be known to him. Then spake the knight of Troneg: "None of them have I ever seen, but when we now gaze upon them, I can tell you well from whence they ride hither to this land. They must indeed be strangers, an' I know them not full soon." (5)
Anon in the busy town, people arranged accommodations for them. Once the many strangers had settled in, the lords were often looked at with curiosity. The townsfolk wondered where these warriors had come from to the Rhine. The host then called for Hagen, hoping he might recognize them. Then the knight of Troneg said, "I’ve never seen any of them before, but as we look at them now, I can tell you where they must have come from. They must really be strangers, and I don’t recognize them right away."
Lodgings were now taken for the guests. The envoy and his fellowship were come in passing costly vesture. To the court they rode wearing good garments, cut in full cunning wise. Then spake the doughty Hagen: "As well as I can tell, for I have not seen the lord long time, they ride as if 'twere Rudeger from the Hunnish land, a lordly knight and a brave."
Lodgings were now arranged for the guests. The envoy and his group arrived dressed in expensive clothes. They rode to the court in finely crafted outfits. Then the brave Hagen spoke: "As far as I can tell, since I haven't seen the lord in a long time, they ride as if it's Rudeger from the Hunnish land, a noble knight and a warrior."
"How can I believe," spake at once the king, "that the lord of Bechelaren be come to this land?"
"How can I believe," spoke the king at once, "that the lord of Bechelaren has come to this land?"
When King Gunther had ended his speech, Hagen, the brave, espied the good knight Rudeger. He and his friends all ran to meet them. Then five hundred knights were seen dismounting from their steeds. Fair were the men from Hungary greeted; messengers had never worn such lordly clothes. Then Hagen of Troneg spake full loudly: "Now be these knights, the lord of Bechelaren and all his men, welcome in God's name."
When King Gunther finished his speech, Hagen, the brave, spotted the good knight Rudeger. He and his friends rushed to greet them. Then, five hundred knights were seen getting off their horses. The men from Hungary were welcomed warmly; messengers had never worn such fine clothing. Then Hagen of Troneg spoke loudly: "Now let these knights, the lord of Bechelaren and all his men, be welcomed in God's name."
With worship the speedy knights were greeted. The next of kin to the king went to where they stood. Ortwin of Metz spake to Rudeger: "Never have we seen guests so gladly here at any time. This I can truly say."
With reverence, the swift knights were welcomed. The king's relatives approached where they stood. Ortwin of Metz spoke to Rudeger: "We've never seen guests received so warmly here at any time. I can honestly say that."
On all sides they thanked the warriors for their greeting. With all their fellowship they hied them to the hall, where they found the king and with him many a valiant man. The lords rose from their seats; through their great chivalry this was done. How right courteously he met the messengers! Gunther and Gernot greeted the stranger and his vassals warmly, as was his due. He took the good knight Rudeger by the hand and led him to the seat where he sat himself. Men bade pour out for the guests (full gladly this was done) passing good mead and the best of wine that one might find in the land along the Rhine. Giselher and Gere both were come; Dankwart and Folker, too, had heard about the strangers. Merry they were of mood and greeted before the king the noble knights and good.
On all sides, they thanked the warriors for their welcome. With all their camaraderie, they hurried to the hall, where they found the king along with many brave men. The lords stood up from their seats; this was done out of great chivalry. How courteously he welcomed the messengers! Gunther and Gernot warmly greeted the stranger and his followers, as was appropriate. He took the noble knight Rudeger by the hand and led him to the seat where he sat himself. They called for drinks to be served to the guests (and this was done gladly), offering good mead and the best wine available in the land along the Rhine. Giselher and Gere were also there; Dankwart and Folker had heard about the newcomers too. They were in a cheerful mood and greeted the noble knights and good before the king.
Then spake Hagen of Troneg to his lord: "These thy knights should ever requite what the margrave for our sake hath done; for this should the husband of fair Gotelind receive reward."
Then Hagen of Troneg said to his lord: "Your knights should always repay what the margrave has done for us; for this is what the husband of the beautiful Gotelind deserves as a reward."
King Gunther spake: "I cannot hold my peace; ye must tell me how fare Etzel and Helca of the Hunnish land."
King Gunther said, "I can't stay quiet; you need to tell me how Etzel and Helca from the Hunnish land are doing."
To this the margrave now made answer: "I'll gladly let you know." He rose from his seat with all his men and spake to the king: "An' may that be that ye permit me, O prince, so will I not conceal the tidings that I bring, but will tell them willingly."
To this, the margrave replied, "I'll happily let you know." He stood up from his seat with all his men and spoke to the king: "If you allow it, O prince, I won’t hide the news I bring; I will share it willingly."
Quoth the king: "The tidings that have been sent us through you, these I'll let you tell without the rede of friends. Pray let me and my vassals hear them, for I begrudge you no honor that ye here may gain."
Quoth the king: "The news you've brought us, you can share it without needing advice from friends. Please, let me and my followers hear it, as I hold no jealousy over any honor you may receive here."
Then spake the worthy envoy: "My great master doth commend to you upon the Rhine his faithful service and to all the kinsmen ye may have. This message is sent in all good faith. The noble king bade complain to you his need. His folk is joyless; my lady, the royal Helca, my master's wife, is dead. Through her hath many a high-born maid been orphaned, daughters of noble princes, whom she hath trained. Therefore it standeth full piteously in his land; they have alas none that might befriend them faithfully. The king's grief, I ween, will abate but slowly."
Then spoke the worthy envoy: "My great master sends his faithful service to you along the Rhine, as well as to any relatives you may have. This message is delivered in good faith. The noble king has asked me to express his needs to you. His people are without joy; my lady, the royal Helca, my master's wife, has died. Because of her, many high-born girls have been left orphaned, daughters of noble princes whom she raised. Therefore, things stand very sadly in his land; they have, unfortunately, no one to genuinely support them. The king's grief, I believe, will take time to fade."
"Now God reward him," spake Gunther, "that he so willingly commendeth his service to me and to my kin. Full gladly have I here heard his greeting, and this both my kindred and my men shall fain requite."
"Now may God reward him," said Gunther, "for so willingly offering his service to me and my family. I'm truly glad to have heard his greeting, and my relatives and my men will gladly repay this."
Then spake the warrior Gernot of Burgundy: "The world must ever rue fair Helca's death, for her many courtesies, which she well knew how to use."
Then the warrior Gernot of Burgundy said: "The world will always mourn the death of fair Helca because of her many kindnesses, which she knew how to offer well."
With this speech Hagen, the passing stately knight, agreed.
With this speech, Hagen, the noble knight, concurred.
Then answered Rudeger, the noble and lordly envoy: "Sith ye permit me, O king, I shall tell you more, the which my dear lord hath hither sent you, sith he doth live so right sorrowfully in longing after Helca. Men told my lord that Kriemhild be without a husband, that Sir Siegfried be dead. If this be so, then shall she wear a crown before Etzel's knights, would ye but permit her. This my sovran bade me say."
Then Rudeger, the noble and esteemed envoy, replied, "If you allow me, O king, I will tell you more that my dear lord has sent you since he lives in deep sorrow longing for Helca. People have told my lord that Kriemhild is without a husband and that Sir Siegfried is dead. If this is true, then she should wear a crown before Etzel's knights, if you would allow it. This is what my sovereign instructed me to say."
Then spake the mighty king, full courteous was his mood: "And she care to do this, she shall hear my pleasure. This will I make known to you in these three days. Why should I refuse King Etzel before I've learned her wish?"
Then the mighty king spoke, feeling quite courteous: "If she wants to do this, she will hear what I desire. I will let you know my decision in three days. Why should I turn down King Etzel before I know her wishes?"
Meanwhile men bade purvey good easement for the guests. They were served so well that Rudeger owned he had good friends there among Gunther's men. Hagen served him gladly, as Rudeger had done to him of yore. Till the third day Rudeger thus remained. The king sent for his counsel (full wisely he acted) to see whether his kinsmen would think it well that Kriemhild take King Etzel to husband. All together they advised it, save Hagen alone. He spake to Gunther, the knight: "Have ye but the right wit, ye will take good care that ye never do this, tho' she were fain to follow."
Meanwhile, the men arranged for the guests to be comfortable. They were treated so well that Rudeger acknowledged he had good friends among Gunther's people. Hagen served him willingly, just as Rudeger had once done for him. Rudeger stayed like this until the third day. The king called for his council (he acted very wisely) to see if his relatives would agree to Kriemhild marrying King Etzel. Everyone agreed except Hagen. He said to Gunther, the knight: "If you have any sense, you'll make sure that you never let this happen, even if she really wants to go along with it."
"Why," spake then Gunther, "should I not consent? Whatever pleasure happen to the queen, I should surely grant her this; she is my sister. We ourselves should bring it to pass, if perchance it might bring her honor."
"Why," said Gunther, "should I not agree? Whatever joy it brings the queen, I would certainly give her this; she is my sister. We should make it happen ourselves if it might bring her honor."
Then answered Hagen: "Give over this speech. Had ye knowledge of Etzel as have I, and should she harry him, as I hear you say, then first hath danger happed to you by right."
Then Hagen replied, "Stop talking like that. If you knew Etzel like I do, and if she bothers him like you say, then you've already put yourself in danger."
"Why?" quoth Gunther. "I'll take good care that I come not so near him that I must suffer aught of hatred on his part, an' she become his wife."
"Why?" said Gunther. "I'll make sure to keep my distance so I won't have to deal with any hatred from him if she becomes his wife."
Said Hagen: "Never will I give you this advice."
Said Hagen: "I will never give you this advice."
For Gernot and Giselher men bade send to learn whether the two lords would think it well that Kriemhild should take the mighty and noble king. Hagen still gainsaid, but no one other. Then spake the knight Giselher of Burgundy: "Friend Hagen, ye may still show your fealty. Make her to forget the wrongs that ye have done her. Whatever good fortune she may have, this ye should not oppose. Ye have in truth done my sister so many an ill," continued Giselher, the full lusty knight, "that she hath good cause, if she be angry with you. Never hath one bereft a lady of greater joys."
For Gernot and Giselher, the men were sent to see if the two lords would agree that Kriemhild should marry the mighty and noble king. Hagen still opposed it, but no one else did. Then the knight Giselher of Burgundy spoke: "Friend Hagen, you can still show your loyalty. Help her forget the wrongs you've done. Whatever good fortune she might have, you shouldn't stand in her way. You've truly done my sister so many wrongs," continued Giselher, the robust knight, "that she has every right to be angry with you. No one has deprived a lady of greater joys."
Quoth Hagen: "I'll do you to wit what well I know. If she take Etzel and live long enow, she'll do us still much harm in whatever way she can. Forsooth full many a stately vassal will own her service."
Quoth Hagen: "Let me tell you what I know for sure. If she marries Etzel and lives long enough, she’ll cause us a lot of trouble in any way she can. Truly, many proud nobles will be in her service."
To this brave Gernot answered: "It may not happen, that we ever ride to Etzel's land before they both be dead. Let us serve her faithfully, that maketh for our honor."
To this, the brave Gernot replied: "It might not happen that we ever ride to Etzel's land before they are both dead. Let's serve her faithfully, as that brings us honor."
Again Hagen spake: "None can gainsay me, an' the noble Kriemhild wear the crown of Helca, she will do us harm as best she may. Ye should give it over, 'twould beseem you knights far better."
Again Hagen said, "No one can argue with me, and if noble Kriemhild wears the crown of Helca, she will cause us trouble in any way she can. You should let it go; it would suit you knights much better."
Wrathfully then spake Giselher, fair Uta's son: "Let us not all act as traitors. We should be glad of whatever honors may be done her. Whatever ye may say, Hagen, I shall serve her by my troth."
Wrathfully then spoke Giselher, fair Uta's son: "Let us not all act like traitors. We should be glad for any honors that are given to her. No matter what you say, Hagen, I will serve her with my loyalty."
Gloomy of mood grew Hagen when he heard these words. Gernot and Giselher, the proud knights and good, and Gunther, the mighty, spake at last, if Kriemhild wished it, they would let it hap without all hate.
Gloomy of mood grew Hagen when he heard these words. Gernot and Giselher, the proud and noble knights, and Gunther, the mighty, finally spoke; if Kriemhild wanted it, they would let it happen without any hatred.
Then spake Prince Gere: "I will tell the lady that she look with favor upon King Etzel, to whom so many knights owe dread obedience. He can well requite her of all the wrongs that have been done her."
Then Prince Gere said, "I will tell the lady to consider King Etzel favorably, for many knights owe him their fear and respect. He can repay her for all the wrongs that have been done to her."
Then the doughty warrior hied him to where he saw Kriemhild. Kindly she received him. How quickly then he spake: "Ye may well greet me gladly and give me a messenger's meed. Fortune is about to part you from all your woes. For the sake of your love, my lady, one of the very best that ever gained a kingdom with great honors, or should wear a crown, hath sent envoys hither. Noble knights be wooing; this my brother bade me tell you."
Then the brave warrior hurried to where he saw Kriemhild. She welcomed him warmly. He quickly spoke: "You should greet me joyfully and give me a messenger's reward. Fortune is about to free you from all your troubles. For the sake of your love, my lady, one of the best who ever gained a kingdom with great honors, or should wear a crown, has sent messengers here. Noble knights are seeking your hand; this is what my brother asked me to tell you."
Then spake the sorrow-laden dame: "God should forbid you and all my kinsmen that ye make a mock of me, poor woman. What could I be to a man who had ever gained heartfelt love from a faithful wife?"
Then the sorrowful woman said, "God forbid that you and all my relatives make a mockery of me, poor woman. What could I possibly mean to a man who has ever received genuine love from a devoted wife?"
Sorely she gainsaid it, but then came Gernot, her brother, and Giselher, the youth, and lovingly bade her ease her heart. It would do her good in truth, could she but take the king.
She strongly disagreed, but then her brother Gernot and the young Giselher came and kindly urged her to calm her heart. It would really help her if she could just win over the king.
None might persuade the lady that she should marry any man. Then the knights begged: "If ye do naught else, pray let it hap that ye deign to see the messengers."
None could convince the lady that she should marry any man. Then the knights pleaded, "If you do nothing else, please allow it to happen that you at least see the messengers."
"I'll not deny," spake the noble dame, "but that I should gladly see the Margrave Rudeger for his passing courtesie. Were he not sent hither, whoever else might be the messenger, never should he become acquainted with me. Pray bid him come to-morrow to my bower. I'll let him hear my will in full and tell it him myself." At this her great laments brake forth anew.
"I won't deny," said the noble lady, "that I would gladly see Margrave Rudeger for his kindness. If he hadn't been sent here, whoever the messenger was, he would never get to know me. Please ask him to come to my room tomorrow. I'll let him hear my wishes directly." At this, her great sorrows broke forth anew.
The noble Rudeger now craved naught else but that he might see the high-born queen. He wist himself to be so wise that she could not but let the knight persuade her, if it should ever be. Early on the morrow when mass was sung, the noble envoys came. A great press arose; of those who should go to court with Rudeger, many a lordly man was seen arrayed. Full sad of mood, the high-born Kriemhild bided the noble envoy and good. He found her in the weeds she wore each day, whereas her handmaids wore rich clothes enow. She went to meet him to the door and greeted full kindly Etzel's liegeman. Only as one of twelve he went to meet her. Men offered him great worship, for never were come more lofty envoys. They bade the lording and his vassals seat them. Before her were seen to stand the two Margraves Eckewart and Gere, the noble knights and good. None they saw merry of mood, for the sake of the lady of the house. Many fair women were seen to sit before her, but Kriemhild only nursed her grief; her dress upon her breast was wet with scalding tears. This the noble margrave noted well on Kriemhild.
The noble Rudeger now desired nothing more than to see the high-born queen. He believed he was wise enough that she couldn’t help but be persuaded by the knight, if the opportunity arose. Early the next morning, after mass was sung, the esteemed envoys arrived. A large crowd gathered; many noblemen were seen preparing to accompany Rudeger to court. The high-born Kriemhild awaited the noble envoy with a heavy heart. She found him in the simple clothes she wore every day, while her handmaids were dressed in fine garments. She went to meet him at the door and warmly greeted Etzel's vassal. He approached her as one among twelve. People offered him great respect, for never had more distinguished envoys arrived. They invited the lord and his vassals to take their seats. The two Margraves Eckewart and Gere, the noble knights, stood before her. None of them appeared cheerful, considering the lady of the house. Many beautiful women sat in front of her, but Kriemhild only felt her sorrow; her dress was soaked with burning tears. The noble margrave noticed this well about Kriemhild.
Then spake the high-born messenger: "Most noble princess, I pray you, permit me and my comrades that are come with me, to stand before you and tell you the tidings for the sake of which we have ridden hither."
Then spoke the high-born messenger: "Most noble princess, I ask you to allow me and my companions who have come with me to stand before you and share the news we have traveled here to deliver."
"Now may ye speak whatso ye list," spake the queen. "I am minded to hear it gladly; ye be a worthy messenger."
"Now you may speak whatever you wish," said the queen. "I am eager to hear it; you are a worthy messenger."
The others noted well her unwilling mood.
The others clearly noticed her unwillingness.
Then spake Prince Rudeger of Bechelaren: "Etzel, a high-born king, hath in good faith sent you a friendly greeting, my lady, by messengers hither to this land. Many good knights hath he sent hither for your love. Great joy without grief he doth offer you most truly. He is ready to give you constant friendship, as he did afore to Lady Helca, who lay within his heart. Certes, through longing for her virtues he hath full often joyless days."
Then Prince Rudeger of Bechelaren said: "Etzel, a noble king, has sincerely sent you a friendly greeting, my lady, through messengers to this land. He has sent many good knights here for your love. He truly offers you great joy without sorrow. He is ready to give you unwavering friendship, just as he had before to Lady Helca, who was dear to him. Indeed, his longing for her virtues has often left him without joy."
Then spake the queen: "Margrave Rudeger, were there any who knew my bitter sorrow, he would not bid me marry any man. Of a truth I lost the best of husbands that ever lady won."
Then the queen said, "Margrave Rudeger, if anyone understood my deep sorrow, they wouldn't ask me to marry anyone. Honestly, I lost the best husband a woman could ever ask for."
"What may comfort grief," the bold knight replied, "but married joy. When that any gan gain this and chooseth one who doth beseem him, naught availeth so greatly for woe of heart. And ye care to love my noble master, ye shall have power over twelve mighty crowns. Thereto my lord will give you the lands of thirty princes, all of which his doughty hand hath overcome. Ye shall become the mistress over many worthy liegemen, who were subject to my Lady Helca, and over many dames of high and princely race, who owned her sway." Thus spake the brave knight and bold. "Thereto my lord will give you (this he bade me say), if ye would deign to wear with him the crown, the very highest power which Helca ever won; this shall ye rule before all Etzel's men."
"What can ease grief," the brave knight replied, "but joy in marriage? When someone finds true love and chooses a partner who suits them, nothing helps heal a broken heart like that. And if you care to love my noble master, you’ll have power over twelve mighty crowns. My lord will also give you the lands of thirty princes, all of which his strong hand has conquered. You will become the mistress of many worthy vassals who were loyal to my Lady Helca, as well as many ladies of high and noble birth who were under her rule." Thus spoke the brave and bold knight. "In addition, my lord will offer you (this he asked me to tell you), if you would agree to wear the crown with him, the very highest power that Helca ever achieved; you shall rule this before all of Etzel's men."
Then spake the queen: "How might it ever list me to become a hero's bride? Death hath given me in the one such dole that I must ever live joyless unto mine end."
Then the queen said, "How could I ever want to become a hero's bride? Death has given me such sorrow that I must live joylessly until my end."
To this the Huns replied: "O mighty queen, your life at Etzel's court will be so worshipful that it will ever give you joy, an' it come to pass, for the mighty king hath many a stately knight. Helca's damosels and your maids shall together form one retinue, at sight of which warriors may well be blithe of mood. Be advised, my lady, ye will fare well in truth."
To this, the Huns replied: "Oh mighty queen, your life at Etzel's court will be so revered that it will always bring you joy, if that comes to pass, for the powerful king has many impressive knights. Helca's maidens and your maids will form one group, which warriors will surely find uplifting. Trust us, my lady, you will truly be well taken care of."
With courtesie she spake: "Now let be this speech until the morrow early, when ye shall come here again. Then will I give you answer to what ye have in mind."
With courtesy she said, "Let's put this conversation on hold until tomorrow morning, when you will come here again. Then I will give you an answer to what you have in mind."
The bold knights and good must needs obey.
The brave knights and the good must obey.
When all were now come to their lodgings, the noble dame bade send for Giselher and for her mother, too. To the twain she said, that weeping did beseem her and naught else better.
When everyone had arrived at their lodgings, the noble lady instructed them to call for Giselher and her mother as well. She told them both that crying suited her, and nothing else would do.
Then spake her brother Giselher: "Sister, it hath been told me, and I can well believe it, that King Etzel would make all thy sorrows vanish, and thou takest him to be thy husband. Whatever others may advise, this thinketh me well done. He is well able to turn thy grief to joy," spake Giselher again; "from the Rhone to the Rhine, from the Elbe down to the sea, there be no other king as mighty as he. Thou mayst well rejoice, an' he make thee his wife."
Then her brother Giselher said, "Sister, I've heard, and I believe it, that King Etzel can make all your sorrows disappear if you choose him as your husband. No matter what others suggest, I think this is a great idea. He has the power to turn your sadness into happiness," Giselher continued; "from the Rhone to the Rhine, and from the Elbe to the sea, there’s no other king as powerful as he is. You should be happy if he makes you his wife."
She spake: "My dear brother, why dost thou advise me this? Weeping and wailing beseem me better far. How should I go to court before his knights? Had I ever beauty, of this I am now bereft."
She said, "My dear brother, why are you advising me this? Crying and mourning suit me much better. How can I go to court in front of his knights? If I ever had beauty, I’m now without it."
To her dear daughter the Lady Uta spake: "Whatever thy brothers counsel thee, dear child, that do. Obey thy kindred and it will go well with thee. I have seen thee now too long in thy great grief."
To her beloved daughter, Lady Uta said: "Whatever your brothers advise you, dear child, follow it. Listen to your family, and things will turn out well for you. I've watched you suffer for far too long."
Then she prayed God full oft to grant her such store of goods that she might have gold, silver, and clothes to give, as at her husband's side of yore, when that he was still alive and well. Else would she never have again such happy hours. She thought within her mind: "And shall I give my body to a paynim (6) (I am a Christian wife), forever in the world must I bear shame. An' he gave me all the kingdoms in the world still 1 would not do it."
Then she often prayed to God, asking Him to bless her with enough wealth so she could have gold, silver, and clothes to give away, just like in the old days when her husband was still alive and well. Otherwise, she would never experience such happy moments again. She thought to herself: "Am I really going to give my body to a pagan (6) (I am a Christian wife)? I would have to endure shame forever. Even if he offered me all the kingdoms in the world, I still wouldn’t do it."
Thus she let the matter rest. All night until the break of day the lady lay upon her bed in thought. Her bright eyes never grew dry, till on the morn she went to matins. Just at the time for mass the kings were come and took their sister again in hand. In truth they urged her to wed the king of the Hunnish land; little did any of them find the lady merry. Then they bade fetch hither Etzel's men, who now would fain have taken their leave, whatever the end might be, whether they gained or lost their suit. Rudeger came now to court; his heroes urged him to learn aright the noble prince's mind. To all it seemed well that this be done betimes, for long was the way back into their land. Men brought Rudeger to where Kriemhild was found. Winningly the knight gan beg the noble queen to let him hear what message she would send to Etzel's land. I ween, he heard from her naught else than no, that she nevermore would wed a man. The margrave spake: "That were ill done. Why would ye let such beauty wither? Still with honor may ye become the bride of a worthy man."
So she decided to leave it alone. All night until dawn, the lady lay in bed, deep in thought. Her bright eyes stayed dry until the morning when she went to early service. Just as it was time for mass, the kings arrived and pressed her again. They were really pushing her to marry the king of the Huns; none of them found her in a cheerful mood. Then they called for Etzel’s men, who were ready to leave, whatever the outcome, whether they won or lost their case. Rudeger came to court; his friends urged him to find out what the noble prince really wanted. Everyone thought it was better to do this sooner rather than later, since the journey back to their land was long. They brought Rudeger to where Kriemhild was. The knight politely asked the noble queen to tell him what message she would like to send to Etzel's land. I believe he only heard her say no, that she would never marry a man again. The margrave replied, "That would be a shame. Why would you let such beauty go to waste? You can still honorably become the bride of a worthy man."
Naught booted that they urged, till Rudeger told the noble queen in secret that he would make amends for all that ever happed to her. At this her great sorrow grew a deal more mild. To the queen he spake: "Let be your weeping. If ye had none among the Huns but me and my faithful kin and liegemen, sore must he repent it who had ever done you aught."
Naught booted that they urged, till Rudeger told the noble queen in secret that he would make amends for everything that ever happened to her. At this, her great sorrow became much more bearable. To the queen he spoke: "Stop your crying. If you only had me and my loyal family and followers among the Huns, whoever wronged you would surely regret it."
At this the lady's mood grew gentler. She spake: "Then swear me an oath, that whatever any do to me that ye will be the first to amend my wrongs."
At this, the lady's mood softened. She said, "Then promise me an oath that no matter what anyone does to me, you will be the first to make it right."
Quoth the margrave: "For this, my lady, I am ready."
Quoth the margrave: "For this, my lady, I’m ready."
Rudeger with all his vassals swore that he would ever serve her faithfully and pledged his hand, that the noble knights from Etzel's land would ne'er refuse her aught.
Rudeger and all his knights promised that they would always serve her faithfully and vowed that the noble knights from Etzel's realm would never deny her anything.
Then the faithful lady thought: "Sith I, wretched wife, have won so many friends, I'll let the people say whatso they choose. What if my dear husband's death might still be avenged?" She thought: "Sith Etzel hath so many men-at-arms, I can do whatso I will, an' I command them. He is likewise so rich that I shall have wherewith to give; the baleful Hagen hath bereft me of my goods."
Then the loyal lady thought, "Since I, a miserable wife, have gained many friends, I'll let people say whatever they want. What if my beloved husband's death can still be avenged?" She considered, "Since Etzel has so many soldiers, I can do whatever I want if I command them. He is also so wealthy that I'll have resources to give; the wicked Hagen has taken everything from me."
To Rudeger she spake: "Had I not heard that he were a paynim, gladly would I go whithersoever he listed and would take him to my husband."
To Rudeger she said, "If I hadn't heard that he was a pagan, I would gladly go wherever he wanted and take him as my husband."
Then spake the margrave: "Lady, give over this speech. He hath so many knights of Christian faith, that ye'll ever be joyful at his court. What if ye bring it to pass, that he should let himself be christened? Therefore may ye fain become King Etzel's wife."
Then the margrave said, "Lady, stop talking like that. He has so many knights of Christian faith that you'll always be happy at his court. What if you manage to convince him to get baptized? Then you could gladly become King Etzel's wife."
Then her brothers spake again: "Now pledge your troth, dear sister. Ye should now give over your sadness."
Then her brothers spoke again: "Now promise us, dear sister. You should stop being so sad."
They begged her till she sadly vowed before the heroes to become King Etzel's bride. She spake: "I will obey you, I poor queen, and fare to the Huns as soon as ever that may be, whenever I have friends who will take me to his land."
They pleaded with her until she reluctantly promised the heroes that she would become King Etzel's bride. She said: "I will do as you ask, I, a poor queen, and go to the Huns as soon as I can, whenever I have friends who will take me to his land."
Of this fair Kriemhild pledged her hand before the knights.
Of this beautiful Kriemhild, she promised her hand in front of the knights.
Then spake the margrave: "If ye have two liegemen, I have still more. 'Twill be the best, that with worship we escort you across the Rhine. No longer, lady, shall ye tarry here in Burgundy. I have five hundred vassals and kinsmen, too; they shall serve you, lady, and do whatso ye bid, both here and there at home. I'll do by you the same whenever ye do mind me of the tale and never feel ashamed. Now bid the housings for your horses be made ready (Rudeger's counsel will never irk you) and tell it to your maids, whom ye would take along, for many a chosen knight will meet us on the road."
Then the margrave said, "If you have two loyal followers, I have even more. It would be best that we honorably escort you across the Rhine. No longer, dear lady, will you stay here in Burgundy. I have five hundred vassals and relatives; they will serve you, lady, and do whatever you ask, both here and back home. I will do the same for you whenever you remind me of the story and never feel embarrassed. Now, have the horse gear prepared (Rudeger’s advice will never bother you) and let your maids know about it, as many fine knights will meet us on the road."
She still had harness with which they rode afore in Siegfried's time, so that she might take with her many maidens now with worship, whenever she would hence. Ho, what good saddles they fetched for the comely dames! Albeit they had aye worn costly robes, many more were now made ready, for much had been told them of the king. They opened up the chests, which stood afore well locked. For four and one half days they were aught but idle; from the presses they brought forth the stores that lay therein. Kriemhild now began to open up her treasure rooms, she fain would make all Rudeger's liegemen rich. Of the gold from the Nibelung land she still had such store that a hundred horses might not bear it; she weened her hand should deal it out among the Huns.
She still had the harness they used to ride back in Siegfried's time, so she could take many maidens with her whenever she wanted to leave. Wow, they fetched some great saddles for the lovely ladies! Although they had always worn expensive dresses, many more were now being prepared because they had heard so much about the king. They opened the chests that had been locked up tightly. For four and a half days, they hardly rested; they pulled out the supplies that were stored inside. Kriemhild now started to open her treasure rooms; she really wanted to make all of Rudeger's followers rich. She still had so much gold from Nibelung land that a hundred horses couldn't carry it all; she intended to share it among the Huns.
This tale Hagen heard told of Kriemhild. He spake: "Sith Kriemhild will not become my friend, so Siegfried's gold must stay behind. For why should I give to my foes such great store of goods? Well I wot what Kriemhild will do with this hoard. I can well believe, an' she take it with her, that it will be doled out to call forth hate against me. Nor have they steeds enow to bear it hence. Hagen doth intend to keep it, pray tell Kriemhild that."
This story Hagen heard was about Kriemhild. He said, "Since Kriemhild won't be my friend, Siegfried's gold has to stay here. Why should I give my enemies such a huge amount of treasure? I know exactly what Kriemhild will do with this fortune. I fully believe that if she takes it with her, it will be used to stir up hatred against me. Besides, they don't have enough horses to carry it all away. Hagen plans to keep it, so please let Kriemhild know."
When that she heard this tale, it irked her sore. It was likewise told to all three kings. Fain would they have changed it, but as this did not hap, the noble Rudeger spake full blithely: "Mighty queen, why mourn ye for the gold? King Etzel doth bear you such great love, that when his eyes do light upon you, such store he'll give you that ye can never spend it all; this will I swear to you, my lady."
When she heard this story, it really upset her. It was also shared with all three kings. They would have liked to change it, but since that didn’t happen, the noble Rudeger spoke cheerfully: “Mighty queen, why do you mourn for the gold? King Etzel loves you so much that when he sees you, he’ll give you so much that you could never spend it all; I swear to you, my lady.”
Then spake the queen: "Most noble Rudeger, never hath king's daughter gained such wealth as that, of which Hagen hath bereft me."
Then the queen said, "Most noble Rudeger, no king's daughter has ever lost such wealth as what Hagen has taken from me."
Then came her brother Gernot to the treasure chamber. By leave of the king in the door he thrust the key. Kriemhild's gold was handed forth, a thousand marks or more. He bade the strangers take it; much this pleased King Gunther.
Then her brother Gernot arrived at the treasure chamber. With the king's permission, he inserted the key in the door. Kriemhild's gold was brought out, totaling a thousand marks or more. He instructed the strangers to take it; this greatly pleased King Gunther.
Then spake Gotelind's knight from Bechelaren: "And had my Lady Kriemhild all the hoard that was brought from the Nibelung land, little of it would mine or the queen's hand touch. Now bid them keep it, for I will none of it. Forsooth I brought from home such store of mine that we can lightly do without this on the road, for we be furnished for the journey in full lordly wise."
Then spoke Gotelind's knight from Bechelaren: "If my Lady Kriemhild had all the treasure that was brought from Nibelung land, I wouldn't want any of it for myself or the queen. Now tell them to keep it, because I don't want any of it. Honestly, I brought enough from home that we can easily do without this on the way, as we are well-prepared for the journey in a very noble way."
Afore this her maids had filled twelve chests at leisure with the very best of gold that anywhere might be. This they took with them and great store of women's trinkets, which they should wear upon the road. Her thought too great the might of Hagen. Of her gold for offerings (7) she had still a thousand marks. For her dear husband's soul she dealt it out. This Rudeger thought was done in faithful love. Then spake the mournful lady: "Where be now my friends who for my sake would live in exile? Let those who would ride with me to the Hunnish land, take now my treasure and purchase horses and trappings."
Before this, her maids had leisurely filled twelve chests with the finest gold available anywhere. They took this along with plenty of women's jewelry to wear on the journey. She thought Hagen's power was too great. For her offerings, she still had a thousand marks of gold. She allocated this for her dear husband's soul. Rudeger believed this was done out of true love. Then the sorrowful lady said: "Where are my friends who would live in exile for my sake? Let those who want to ride with me to the land of the Huns take my treasure and buy horses and gear."
Then spake the margrave Eckewart to the queen: "Since the day I first became your vassal, I have served you faithfully," spake the knight, "and aye will do the same by you until mine end. I will take with me also five hundred of my men and place them in your service right loyally. Naught shall ever part us, save death alone."
Then Margrave Eckewart said to the queen, "Since the day I first became your vassal, I have served you faithfully," he said, "and I will continue to do so until my end. I will also bring five hundred of my men and put them in your service loyally. Nothing will ever separate us, except for death."
For this speech Kriemhild bowed her thanks; forsooth she had full need.
For this speech, Kriemhild expressed her gratitude; indeed, she truly needed it.
Men now led forth the palfreys; for they would ride away. Then many tears were shed by kinsfolk. Royal Uta and many a comely maiden showed that they were sad at Kriemhild's loss. A hundred high-born maids she took with her hence, who were arrayed as well befit them. Then from bright eyes the tears fell down, but soon at Etzel's court they lived to see much joy. Then came Lord Giselher and Gernot, too, with their fellowship, as their courtesie demanded. Fain would they escort their dear sister hence; of their knights they took with them full a thousand stately men. Then came Ortwin and the doughty Gere; Rumolt, the master of the kitchen, must needs be with them, too. They purveyed them night quarters as far as the Danube's shore, but Gunther rode no further than a little from the town. Ere they fared hence from the Rhine, they had sent their messengers swiftly on ahead to the Hunnish land, who should tell the king that Rudeger had gained for him to wife the noble high-born queen.
Men now brought out the horses, ready to ride away. Many tears were shed by family members. Royal Uta and many beautiful maidens showed their sorrow for Kriemhild's loss. She took a hundred noble maidens with her, dressed as befit their status. Tears flowed from bright eyes, but soon at Etzel's court, they would find much joy. Then Lord Giselher and Gernot arrived with their companions, as courtesy required. They were eager to escort their dear sister away; they took with them a thousand proud knights. Ortwin and the brave Gere joined them as well; Rumolt, the kitchen master, had to be with them, too. They arranged accommodations for the night as far as the Danube's shore, but Gunther rode no further than a short distance from the town. Before leaving the Rhine, they sent messengers ahead to the land of the Huns to inform the king that Rudeger had won the noble queen as his wife.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Etzel", see Adventure I, note 7. (2) "Helca" (M.H.G. "Helche") or "Herka", Etzel's wife, is the daughter of king "Oserich" or "Osantrix", as the "Thidreksaga" calls him. In the latter work (chap. 73-80) we read how Rudeger (Rodingeir) took her by force from her father and brought her to Etzel to be the latter's bride. On her identity with the historical "Kerka" of Priscus, see Bleyer, PB. "Beit." xxxi, 542. (3) "Rudeger of Bechelaren", or, as the name reads in the "Thidreksaga", "Rodingeir of Bakalar", is probably not an historical personage, but the hero of a separate legend. Evidence of this is seen in the fact that he calls himself an exile, though he is Etzel's mightiest vassal, with castles and lands in fief. He may have been introduced, as Wilmanns ("Anz." xviii 101) thinks, to play a role originally assigned to Dietrich, who is also an exile. Mullenhoff considered him to have been a mythical person. Bechelaren, or Pechlarn, lies at the junction of the Erlach with the Danube. (4) "hast seen here". "Biterolf", 9471, relates that Dietrich had carried Siegfried, when young, by force to Etzel's court. (5) "full soon". See Adventure III, note 4. (6) "Paynim" (O F. "paienime", late Latin "paganismus"), 'heathen'. (7) "gold for offerings". This was the gold to be used as offering when masses were sung for Siegfried's soul.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Etzel", see Adventure I, note 7. (2) "Helca" (M.H.G. "Helche") or "Herka", Etzel's wife, is the daughter of King "Oserich" or "Osantrix", as referred to in the "Thidreksaga". In that text (chap. 73-80), we read how Rudeger (Rodingeir) forcefully took her from her father and brought her to Etzel to be his bride. For her connection to the historical "Kerka" mentioned by Priscus, see Bleyer, PB. "Beit." xxxi, 542. (3) "Rudeger of Bechelaren", or, as it appears in the "Thidreksaga", "Rodingeir of Bakalar", is likely not a historical figure but the hero of a separate legend. This is supported by the fact that he identifies as an exile, despite being Etzel's most powerful vassal with castles and lands granted to him. Wilmanns ("Anz." xviii 101) suggests he may have been included to fill a role originally meant for Dietrich, who is also an exile. Mullenhoff believed he was a mythical character. Bechelaren, or Pechlarn, is located at the confluence of the Erlach and the Danube. (4) "hast seen here". "Biterolf", 9471, mentions that Dietrich had forcefully taken young Siegfried to Etzel's court. (5) "full soon". See Adventure III, note 4. (6) "Paynim" (O F. "paienime", late Latin "paganismus"), means 'heathen'. (7) "gold for offerings". This was the gold intended for offerings when masses were sung for Siegfried's soul.
ADVENTURE XXI. How Kriemhild Journeyed To The Huns.
Let now the messengers ride. We will do you to wit, how the queen journeyed through the lands and where Giselher and Gernot parted from her. They had served her as their fealty bade them. Down to Vergen (1) on the Danube they rode; here they gan crave leave of the queen, for they would ride again to the Rhine. Without tears these faithful kinsmen might not part. Doughty Giselher spake then to his sister: "Whenever, lady, thou shouldst need me, when aught doth trouble thee, let me but know, and I will ride in thy service to Etzel's land."
Let the messengers ride now. We will let you know how the queen traveled through the lands and where Giselher and Gernot said goodbye to her. They had served her as their loyalty required. They rode down to Vergen (1) on the Danube; here they asked the queen for permission to leave, as they wanted to travel back to the Rhine. Without tears, these loyal relatives could not part. Brave Giselher then spoke to his sister: "Whenever you need me, dear lady, whenever anything troubles you, just let me know, and I will come to your service in Etzel's land."
Those who were her kin she kissed upon the mouth. Lovingly they took their leave of Margrave Rudeger's men. The queen had with her many a fair-fashioned maid, full a hundred and four, that wore costly robes of rich, gay-colored silks. Many broad shields were borne close by the ladies on the road, but many a lordly warrior turned then from her.
Those who were her relatives she kissed on the lips. They lovingly said goodbye to Margrave Rudeger's men. The queen had with her many beautiful maidens, a total of one hundred and four, dressed in expensive, brightly colored silks. Many wide shields were carried near the ladies on the way, but numerous noble warriors then turned away from her.
They journeyed soon from thence down through Bavarian land. Here the tale was told that many unknown strangers had gathered there, where still a cloister standeth and where the Inn floweth into the Danube. In the town of Passau, where lived a bishop, lodgings were soon emptied and the prince's court as well, as they hurried forth to meet the strangers in the Bavarian land, where the Bishop Pilgrim (2) found fair Kriemhild. The knights of the land were little loth, when in her train they saw so many comely maids; with their eyes they courted the daughters of noble knights. Later good lodgings were given the noble guests.
They soon traveled from there through Bavaria. It was said that many unknown strangers had gathered where a cloister still stands and where the Inn flows into the Danube. In the town of Passau, where a bishop lived, accommodations were quickly cleared out, and the prince's court was also emptied as they rushed to meet the strangers in Bavaria, where Bishop Pilgrim (2) found the beautiful Kriemhild. The knights of the land were not unwilling when they saw so many lovely maidens in her company; they admired the daughters of noble knights with their eyes. Later, the noble guests were given good accommodations.
With his niece the bishop rode toward Passau. When it was told the burghers of the town that Kriemhild was come, their prince's sister's child, well was she greeted by the merchants. The bishop had the hope that they would stay. Then spake Sir Eckewart: "That may not be. We must fare further down to Rudeger's land. Many knights await us, for all wot well the news."
With his niece, the bishop rode toward Passau. When the townspeople heard that Kriemhild had arrived, the merchants greeted her warmly since she was the sister's child of their prince. The bishop hoped they would stay longer. Then Sir Eckewart said, "That can’t happen. We need to continue on to Rudeger’s land. Many knights are waiting for us, as they all know the news."
Well wist fair Gotelind the tale. She tired her and her noble child with care. Rudeger had sent her word that it thought him good that she should cheer the mind of the queen by riding forth, with his vassals to the Enns (3) for to meet her. When this message had been given, one saw on every side the roads alive; on foot and horse they hastened to meet their guests. Now was the queen come to Efferding. (4) Enow there were from the Bavarian land who might perchance have done the guests much harm, had they robbed upon the roads, as was their wont. That had been forestalled by the lordly margrave: he led a thousand knights or more.
Well, fair Gotelind knew the story. She exhausted herself and her noble child with care. Rudeger had sent her word that he thought it would be good for her to uplift the queen's spirits by riding out with his vassals to the Enns (3) to meet her. Once this message was delivered, the roads came alive on all sides; people on foot and horseback rushed to greet their guests. Now the queen had arrived in Efferding. (4) There were plenty from the Bavarian land who could have potentially harmed the guests if they had robbed the roads as was their custom. This was prevented by the noble margrave: he led over a thousand knights.
Now Gotelind, the wife of Rudeger, was come; with her there rode many a noble knight in lordly vise. When they were come across the Traun, (5) upon the plain by Enns, one saw erected huts and tents, where the guests should have their lodgings for the night. Rudeger gave the vitaille to his guests. Fair Gotelind left her lodgings far behind her; along the road there trotted many a shapely palfrey with jingling bridle. Fair was the welcome; right well was Rudeger pleased. Among those who rode to meet them on the way, on either side, in praiseworthy wise, was many a knight. They practised chivalry, the which full many a maiden saw. Nor did the service of the knights mislike the queen. When that Rudeger's liegemen met the guests, many truncheons (6) were seen to fly on high from the warriors' hands in knightly custom. As though for a prize they rode before the ladies there. This they soon gave over and many warriors greeted each other in friendly wise. Then they escorted fair Gotelind from thence to where she saw Kriemhild. Scant leisure had they who wot how to serve the ladies.
Now Gotelind, Rudeger’s wife, had arrived; accompanying her were many noble knights in impressive attire. When they crossed the Traun, on the plain by Enns, there were tents and huts set up for the guests to stay the night. Rudeger arranged the provisions for his guests. Beautiful Gotelind left her accommodations far behind; along the road, many graceful horses trotted with jingling bridles. The welcome was warm, and Rudeger was very pleased. Among those who rode out to greet them from both sides were many knights, showcasing their chivalry, which many maidens observed. The knights’ service was well-received by the queen. When Rudeger’s vassals met the guests, many staffs were seen flying high from the warriors’ hands in a knightly manner, as if competing for a prize before the ladies. They quickly stopped this display, and many warriors greeted one another in a friendly way. Then they escorted beautiful Gotelind to where she saw Kriemhild. There was little time for those who knew how to serve the ladies.
The lord of Bechelaren rode now to his wife. Little it irked the noble margravine that he was come so well and sound from the Rhine. In part her cares had given way to joy. When she had welcomed him, he bade her dismount with the ladies of her train upon the sward. Many a noble knight bestirred him and served the ladies with eager zeal. Then Kriemhild spied the margravine standing with her meiny. No nearer she drew, but checked the palfrey with the bridle and bade them lift her quickly from the saddle. Men saw the bishop with Eckewart lead his sister's child to Gotelind. All stood aside at once. Then the exiled queen kissed Gotelind upon the mouth. Full lovingly spake Rudeger's wife: "Now well is me, dear lady, that I have ever seen with mine own eyes your charming self in these our lands. Naught liefer might hap to me in all these times."
The lord of Bechelaren rode to his wife. The noble margravine was hardly bothered that he returned safely from the Rhine. Part of her worries had turned into joy. After she welcomed him, he asked her to dismount with the ladies of her entourage on the grass. Many a noble knight got to work and eagerly served the ladies. Then Kriemhild noticed the margravine standing with her attendants. She didn’t approach any closer but halted her horse and asked them to help her down from the saddle. People saw the bishop, with Eckewart, leading his sister's child to Gotelind. Everyone stepped aside immediately. Then the exiled queen kissed Gotelind on the lips. Rudeger's wife spoke lovingly, "Now I'm so happy, dear lady, that I've finally seen your lovely self in our lands. Nothing could please me more during these times."
"Now God requite you," quoth Kriemhild, "most noble Gotelind. Shall I and Botelung's (7) son remain alive and well, it may be lief to you that ye have seen me here."
"Now may God repay you," said Kriemhild, "most noble Gotelind. If I and Botelung's (7) son stay alive and well, I hope it pleases you that you have seen me here."
Neither knew what must needs later hap. Many maidens went to meet each other in courtly wise. The warriors, too, were full ready with their service. After the greeting they sat them down upon the clover. With many they became acquaint, who were full strange to them aforetime. As it was now high noon, men bade pour out wine for the ladies. The noble meiny no longer tarried, but rode to where they found many broad pavilions; there ample service stood ready for the guests.
Neither knew what would later happen. Many young women met each other in a polite manner. The warriors were also ready to serve. After greeting each other, they sat down on the clover. They became acquainted with many who were strangers to them before. Since it was now high noon, people asked to pour out wine for the ladies. The noble company no longer lingered but rode to where they found many large tents; there, ample service was ready for the guests.
That night they had repose till early on the morn. Those from Bechelaren made ready for to lodge the worthy guests. So well had Rudeger planned, that little enow they lacked. The embrasures in the walls stood open, the castle at Bechelaren was opened wide. In rode the guests whom men were fain to see; the noble host bade purvey them proper easement. Most lovingly Rudeger's daughter with her meiny went to welcome the queen. There, too, stood her mother, the margrave's wife; many a high-born maid was greeted with delight. They took each other by the hand and hied them hence to a broad hall, fashioned full fair, under which the Danube flowed along. Towards the breeze they sate and held great pastime. What more they did I cannot tell, save that Kriemhild's men-at-arms were heard to grumble that they fared so slowly on their way, for much it irked them. Ho, what good knights rode with them hence from Bechelaren!
That night they rested until early morning. Those from Bechelaren got ready to host the esteemed guests. Rudeger had planned so well that they lacked very little. The openings in the walls stood wide, and the castle at Bechelaren was fully welcoming. In rode the guests that everyone was eager to see; the noble host arranged proper accommodations for them. Rudeger's daughter and her entourage warmly went to greet the queen. Her mother, the margrave's wife, was also there; many noble maidens were joyfully welcomed. They took each other by the hand and made their way to a beautifully designed broad hall, beneath which the Danube flowed. They sat towards the breeze and enjoyed great amusement. What else they did, I cannot say, except that Kriemhild's men-at-arms were heard complaining about how slowly they were progressing, which annoyed them greatly. Oh, what good knights rode with them from Bechelaren!
Rudeger offered them much loving service. The queen gave Gotelind's daughter twelve ruddy armlets, and raiment too, as good as any that she brought to Etzel's land. Although the Nibelung gold was taken from her, yet she did win the hearts of all that saw her with the little she still might have. Great gifts were given to the courtiers of the host. In turn the Lady Gotelind offered the guests from the Rhine worship in such friendly wise, that men found passing few of the strangers that did not wear her jewels or her lordly robes.
Rudeger provided them with a lot of loving support. The queen presented Gotelind's daughter with twelve bright armlets and clothing that was as fine as anything she brought to Etzel's land. Even though the Nibelung gold was taken from her, she still captured the hearts of everyone who saw her with the little she had left. The courtiers received great gifts from the host. In return, Lady Gotelind honored the guests from the Rhine so warmly that hardly any of the strangers could be found without her jewels or noble attire.
When they had eaten and should depart, faithful service was proffered by the lady of the house to Etzel's bride. The fair young margravine, too, was much caressed. To the queen she spake: "Whenso it thinketh you good, I know well that my dear father will gladly send me to you to the Hunnish land." How well Kriemhild marked that the maiden loved her truly.
When they finished eating and were about to leave, the lady of the house offered her loyal service to Etzel's bride. The beautiful young margravine was also warmly welcomed. She said to the queen, "Whenever you think it’s a good time, I know my dear father will gladly send me to you in the land of the Huns." Kriemhild could easily see that the young woman truly loved her.
The steeds were harnessed and led before the castle of Bechelaren and the noble queen took leave of Rudeger's wife and daughter. With a greeting many a fair maid parted too. Full seldom did they see each other since these days. From Medelick (8) the folk bare in their hands many a rich cup of gold, in which they offered wine to the strangers on the highway. Thus they made them welcome. A host dwelt there, hight Astolt, (9) who showed them the road to the Austrian land, towards Mautern (10) down the Danube. There the noble queen was later served full well. From his niece the bishop parted lovingly. How he counseled her that she should bear her well and that she should purchase honor for herself, as Helca, too, had done! Ho, what great worship she later gained among the Huns!
The horses were hitched up and led in front of the castle of Bechelaren, and the noble queen said goodbye to Rudeger’s wife and daughter. Many a fair maiden also exchanged greetings. They rarely saw each other after those days. From Medelick (8), the people brought lots of rich gold cups, offering wine to the travelers on the road. This is how they welcomed them. A host named Astolt (9) showed them the way to Austrian territory, towards Mautern (10) along the Danube. There, the noble queen was later very well taken care of. He had a heartfelt farewell with his niece, advising her to carry herself well and gain honor for herself, just as Helca had done! Oh, what great respect she later earned among the Huns!
To the Traisem (11) they escorted hence the guests. Rudeger's men purveyed them zealously, until the Huns came riding across the land. Then the queen became acquaint with mickle honor. Near the Traisem the king of the Hunnish land did have a mighty castle, hight Zeisenmauer, (12) known far and wide. Lady Helca dwelt there aforetime and used such great virtues that it might not lightly ever hap again, unless it be through Kriemhild. She wist so how to give, that after all her sorrow she had the joy that Etzel's liegemen gave her great worship, of which she later won great store among the heroes. Etzel's rule was known far and wide, so that all time one found at his court the boldest warriors of whom men ever heard, among Christian or among paynim. They were all come with him. All time there were at his court, what may not so lightly hap again, Christian customs and also heathen faith. In whatsoever wise each lived, the bounty of the king bestowed on all enow.
To the Traisem (11), they escorted the guests. Rudeger's men took care of them diligently until the Huns came riding across the land. Then the queen gained much honor. Near the Traisem, the king of the Hunnish land had a mighty castle, called Zeisenmauer (12), known far and wide. Lady Helca had lived there before and had such great virtues that it might never happen again, unless through Kriemhild. She knew how to give, so after all her sorrow, she experienced the joy of being greatly honored by Etzel's men, which later earned her much respect among the heroes. Etzel's rule was known everywhere, so there were always the boldest warriors at his court, whether Christian or pagan. They all came with him. There were always at his court, something that might not easily happen again, Christian customs and also pagan faith. Regardless of how each lived, the king's generosity was enough for everyone.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Vergen" is the modern Pforing, below Ingolstadt. A ferry across the river existed here from ancient times. (2) "Pilgrim", or "Pilgerin", as he is variously called, is an historical personage. He was bishop of Passau from 971 to 991. Without doubt he is a late introduction, according to Boer between 1181 and 1185. See Boer, ii, 204, and E.L. Dummler, "Pilgrim von Passau", Leipzig, 1854. (3) "Enns" (M.H.G. "Ens") is one of the tributaries of the Danube, flowing into it about eleven miles southeast of Linz. (4) "Efferding" (M.H.G. "Everdingen") is a town on the Danube, about thirteen miles west of Linz. (5) "Traun" (M.H.G. "Trune") is a river of Upper Austria, forty-four miles southeast of Linz. (6) "Truncheons", see Adventure II, note 8. (7) "Botelung's son" is Attila, who is so called in our poem, in the "Klage", and in "Biterolf". In the earlier Norse version "Atli" is the son of "Budli". (On this point see Mullenhoff, "Zur Geschichte der Nibelungensage", p. 106, and Zsfd A., x, 161, and Bleyer, PB. Beit. xxxi, 459, where the names are shown to be identical.) (8) "Medelick" is the modern Mölk, or Melk, a town on the Danube near the influx of the Bilach. It lies at the foot of a granite cliff on which stands a famous Benedictine abbey. (9) "Astolt" appears only in this passage; nothing else is known of him. (10) "Mautern" is situated at the influx of the Flanitz, opposite Stein in Lower Austria. (11) "Traisem", Traisen, is a tributary of the Danube in Lower Austria, emptying near Traismauer. (12) "Zeisenmauer" (M.H.G. "Zeizenmure"). All the MSS. but C and D have this reading. The latter have "Treysenmoure" and "treisem moure", which corresponds better to the modern name, as Zeiselmauer lies between Tulln and Vienna. It is possible, however, that the town on the Traisem was originally called Zeiselmauer, as the road leading from Traismauer to Tulln still bears the name of Zeiselstrasse. See Lachmann, "Anmerkungen", 1272, 3, and Piper, ii, 289, note to str. 1333.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Vergen" is the modern Pforing, located below Ingolstadt. A ferry across the river has been here since ancient times. (2) "Pilgrim," or "Pilgerin," as he is sometimes called, is a historical figure. He was the bishop of Passau from 971 to 991. He was definitely added later, likely between 1181 and 1185, according to Boer. See Boer, ii, 204, and E.L. Dummler, "Pilgrim von Passau", Leipzig, 1854. (3) "Enns" (M.H.G. "Ens") is one of the tributaries of the Danube, flowing into it about eleven miles southeast of Linz. (4) "Efferding" (M.H.G. "Everdingen") is a town on the Danube, roughly thirteen miles west of Linz. (5) "Traun" (M.H.G. "Trune") is a river in Upper Austria, forty-four miles southeast of Linz. (6) "Truncheons," see Adventure II, note 8. (7) "Botelung's son" refers to Attila, as he is called in our poem, in the "Klage," and in "Biterolf." In the earlier Norse version, "Atli" is the son of "Budli." (For more on this, see Mullenhoff, "Zur Geschichte der Nibelungensage," p. 106, and Zsfd A., x, 161, and Bleyer, PB. Beit. xxxi, 459, where the names are shown to be identical.) (8) "Medelick" is the modern Mölk, or Melk, a town on the Danube near the confluence of the Bilach. It sits at the base of a granite cliff on which there is a famous Benedictine abbey. (9) "Astolt" is mentioned only in this passage; nothing else is known about him. (10) "Mautern" is located at the convergence of the Flanitz, across from Stein in Lower Austria. (11) "Traisem," or Traisen, is a tributary of the Danube in Lower Austria, emptying near Traismauer. (12) "Zeisenmauer" (M.H.G. "Zeizenmure"). All the manuscripts except C and D have this spelling. The latter have "Treysenmoure" and "treisem moure," which aligns better with the modern name, since Zeiselmauer is situated between Tulln and Vienna. However, it's possible that the town on the Traisem was originally called Zeiselmauer, as the road from Traismauer to Tulln is still named Zeiselstrasse. See Lachmann, "Anmerkungen," 1272, 3, and Piper, ii, 289, note to str. 1333.
ADVENTURE XXII. How Etzel Made Kriemhild His Bride.
Until the fourth day she stayed at Zeisenmauer. The while the dust upon the highway never came to rest, but rose on every side, as if it were burning, where King Etzel's liegemen rode through Austria. Then the king was told aright how royally Kriemhild fared through the lands; at thought of this his sorrows vanished. He hasted to where he found the lovely Kriemhild. Men saw ride before King Etzel on the road many bold knights of many tongues and many mighty troops of Christians and of paynims. When they met the lady, they rode along in lordly wise. Of the Russians and the Greeks there rode there many a man. The right good steeds of the Poles and Wallachians were seen to gallop swiftly, as they rode with might and main. Each did show the customs of his land. From the land of Kiev (1) there rode many a warrior and the savage Petschenegers. (2) With the bow they often shot at the birds which flew there; to the very head they drew the arrows on the bows.
Until the fourth day, she stayed at Zeisenmauer. Meanwhile, the dust on the highway never settled but rose all around as if it were on fire, with King Etzel's knights riding through Austria. Then the king was informed just how magnificently Kriemhild was traveling through the lands; thinking of this made his sorrows fade away. He hurried to where he found the beautiful Kriemhild. Many bold knights from various regions and strong troops of Christians and pagans rode before King Etzel on the road. When they encountered the lady, they rode by with a sense of nobility. There were many men from Russia and Greece among them. The excellent horses of the Poles and Wallachians could be seen galloping swiftly as they rode with all their strength. Each displayed the customs of his homeland. From the land of Kiev (1), many warriors and the fierce Pechenegs rode forth. (2) With their bows, they often shot at the birds flying overhead, drawing their arrows back to the very feathers on the bowstring.
By the Danube there lieth in the Austrian land a town that men call Tulna. (3) There she became acquaint with many a foreign custom, the which size had never seen afore. She greeted there enow who later came through her to grief. Before Etzel there rode a retinue, merry and noble, courtly and lusty, full four and twenty princes, mighty and of lofty birth. They would fain behold their lady and craved naught more. Duke Ramung (4) of Wallachia, with seven hundred vassals, galloped up before her; like flying birds men saw them ride. Then came Prince Gibeck with lordly bands. The doughty Hornbog, (5) with full a thousand men, wheeled from the king away towards the queen. Loudly they shouted after the custom of their land. Madly too rode the kinsmen of the Huns. Then came brave Hawart (6) of Denmark and the doughty Iring, (7) free of guile was he, and Irnfried (8) of Thuringia, a stately man. With twelve hundred vassals, whom they had in their band, they greeted Kriemhild, so that she had therefrom great worship. Then came Sir Bloedel, (9) King Etzel's brother, from the Hunnish land, with three thousand men. In lordly wise he rode to where he found the queen. Then King Etzel came and Sir Dietrich, too, with all his fellowship. There stood many worshipful knights, noble, worthy, and good. At this Dame Kriemhild's spirits rose.
By the Danube in Austria lies a town called Tulna. There, she became familiar with many foreign customs that she had never seen before. She met many people who later brought her trouble. Before Etzel rode a cheerful and noble retinue, full of life, with twenty-four princes, powerful and of high birth. They were eager to see their lady and wanted nothing more. Duke Ramung of Wallachia, with seven hundred vassals, galloped up to her; they rode like flying birds. Then came Prince Gibeck with his noble entourage. The brave Hornbog, with a thousand men, turned from the king towards the queen. They shouted loudly according to their customs. The Huns’ kin also rode fiercely. Then came the brave Hawart from Denmark and the valiant Iring, who was free of deceit, along with Irnfried of Thuringia, a dignified man. With twelve hundred vassals in their company, they greeted Kriemhild, bringing her much honor. Then Sir Bloedel, King Etzel's brother, arrived from the Hunnish land with three thousand men. He rode in a grand manner to where he found the queen. Finally, King Etzel and Sir Dietrich appeared, along with all their companions. There stood many honorable knights, noble, worthy, and good. At this, Dame Kriemhild's spirits were lifted.
Then Sir Rudeger spake to the queen: "Lady, here will I receive the high-born king; whomso I bid you kiss, that must ye do. Forsooth ye may not greet alike King Etzel's men."
Then Sir Rudeger spoke to the queen: "Lady, I will welcome the noble king here; whoever I ask you to kiss, you must do. Indeed, you cannot greet King Etzel's men in the same way."
From the palfrey they helped the royal queen alight. Etzel, the mighty, bode no more, but dismounted from his steed with many a valiant man. Joyfully men saw them go towards Kriemhild. Two mighty princes, as we are told, walked by the lady and bore her train, when King Etzel went to meet her, where she greeted the noble lording with a kiss in gracious wise. She raised her veil and from out the gold beamed forth her rosy hue. Many a man stood there who vowed that Lady Helca could not have been more fair than she. Close by stood also Bloedel, the brother of the king. Him Rudeger, the mighty margrave, bade her kiss and King Gibeck, too. There also stood Sir Dietrich. Twelve of the warriors the king's bride kissed. She greeted many knights in other ways.
From the palfrey, they helped the royal queen dismount. Etzel, the mighty, no longer waited but got down from his horse with several brave men. The men joyfully watched them approach Kriemhild. Two powerful princes, as we’re told, walked alongside her and carried her train while King Etzel went to meet her, and she greeted the noble lord with a gracious kiss. She lifted her veil, and the gold shone brightly against her rosy complexion. Many men claimed that Lady Helca couldn’t have been more beautiful than she was. Also standing nearby was Bloedel, the king's brother. Rudeger, the mighty margrave, urged her to kiss him as well as King Gibeck. Sir Dietrich was also present. The king's bride kissed twelve of the warriors. She greeted many knights in different ways.
All the while that Etzel stood at Kriemhild's side, the youthful warriors did as people still are wont to do. One saw them riding many a royal joust. This Christian champions did and paynim, too, according to their custom. In what right knightly wise the men of Dietrich made truncheons from the shafts fly through the air, high above the shields, from the hands of doughty knights! Many a buckler's edge was pierced through and through by the German strangers. Great crashing of breaking shafts was heard. All the warriors from the land were come and the king's guests, too, many a noble man.
All the while Etzel stood by Kriemhild, the young warriors did what people still do today. You could see them riding in many grand tournaments. Both Christian champions and heathens participated, just like they usually do. The men of Dietrich skillfully made clubs from the spears that flew through the air, soaring high above the shields, launched by brave knights! Many shields were pierced completely by the German warriors. The loud sound of breaking spears filled the air. All the warriors from the land had gathered, along with the king's guests—many noble men.
Then the mighty king betook him hence with Lady Kriemhild. Hard by them a royal tent was seen to stand; around about the plain was filled with booths, where they should rest them after their toils. Many a comely maid was shown to her place thereunder by the knights, where she then sate with the queen on richly covered chairs. The margrave had so well purveyed the seats for Kriemhild, that all found them passing good; at this King Etzel grew blithe of mood. What the king there spake, I know not. In his right lay her snow-white hand; thus they sate in lover's wise, since Rudeger would not let the king make love to Kriemhild secretly.
Then the mighty king took Lady Kriemhild away with him. Nearby, they spotted a royal tent set up; the plain was filled with booths where they could rest after their labors. Many lovely maidens were shown to their spots by the knights, where they sat with the queen on beautifully decorated chairs. The margrave had arranged the seating for Kriemhild so well that everyone found it quite comfortable; this made King Etzel happy. What the king said there, I do not know. Her snow-white hand rested in his; thus they sat like lovers, since Rudeger would not allow the king to woo Kriemhild in private.
Then one bade the tourney cease on every side; in courtly wise the great rout ended. Etzel's men betook them to the booths; men gave them lodgings stretching far away on every side. The day had now an end; they lay at ease, till the bright morn was seen to dawn again, then many a man betook him to the steeds. Ho, what pastimes they gan ply in honor of the king! Etzel bade the Huns purvey all with fitting honors. Then they rode from Tulna to the town of Vienna, where they found many a dame adorned. With great worship these greeted King Etzel's bride. There was ready for them in great plenty whatever they should have. Many a lusty hero rejoiced at prospect of the rout.
Then someone called for the tournament to stop on all sides; in a noble way, the large crowd dispersed. Etzel's men headed to the tents; they were given accommodations stretching far and wide. The day had come to an end; they rested until dawn broke again, and then many men made their way to their horses. Oh, how they entertained themselves in honor of the king! Etzel commanded the Huns to provide everything with appropriate honors. Then they rode from Tulna to the city of Vienna, where they found many ladies dressed beautifully. With great respect, they welcomed King Etzel's bride. They had plenty of everything they could want waiting for them. Many bold heroes looked forward to the festivities.
The king's wedding feast commenced in merry wise. They began to lodge the guests, but quarters could not be found for all within the town. Rudeger therefore begged those that were not guests to take lodgings in the country round about. I ween men found all time by Lady Kriemhild, Sir Dietrich and many another knight. Their rest they had given over for toil, that they might purvey the guests good cheer. Rudeger and his friends had pastime good. The wedding feast fell on a Whitsuntide, when King Etzel lay by Kriemhild in the town of Vienna. With her first husband, I trow, she did not win so many men for service. Through presents she made her known to those who had never seen her. Full many among them spake to the guests: "We weened that Lady Kriemhild had naught of goods, now hath she wrought many wonders with her gifts."
The king's wedding feast started off joyfully. They began to settle the guests, but there wasn’t enough room for everyone in the town. Rudeger then asked those who weren’t guests to find accommodations in the surrounding countryside. I believe people always found time by Lady Kriemhild, Sir Dietrich, and many other knights. They set aside their rest for hard work to ensure the guests had a good time. Rudeger and his friends enjoyed themselves. The wedding feast took place on Whitsun, while King Etzel was with Kriemhild in the town of Vienna. With her first husband, I think she didn't manage to gather as many followers. She made herself known to those who had never seen her through gifts. Many among them spoke to the guests: "We thought Lady Kriemhild was without wealth, but now she has accomplished many wonders with her gifts."
The feasting lasted seventeen days. I trow men can no longer tell of any king whose wedding feast was greater. If so be, 'tis hidden from us. All that were present wore brand-new garments. I ween, she never dwelt before in Netherland with such retinue of knights. Though Siegfried was rich in goods, I trow, he never won so many noble men-at-arms, as she saw stand 'fore Etzel. Nor hath any ever given at his own wedding feast so many costly mantles, long and wide, nor such good clothes, of which all had here great store, given for Kriemhild's sake. Her friends and the strangers, too, were minded to spare no kind of goods. Whatever any craved, this they willingly gave, so that many of the knights through bounty stood bereft of clothes. Kriemhild thought of how she dwelt with her noble husband by the Rhine; her eyes grew moist, but she hid it full well, that none might see it. Great worship had been done her after many a grief. Whatever bounty any used, 'twas but a wind to that of Dietrich. What Botelung's son had given him, was squandered quite. Rudeger's lavish hand did also many wonders. Prince Bloedel of Hungary bade empty many traveling chests of their silver and their gold; all this was given away. The king's champions were seen to live right merrily. Werbel and Swemmel, (10) the minstrels of the king, each gained at the wedding feast, I ween, full thousand marks, or even better, when fair Kriemhild sate crowned at Etzel's side.
The feast lasted for seventeen days. I think men can no longer recall any king whose wedding celebration was greater. If there is, it remains unknown to us. Everyone present wore brand-new clothes. I assume she had never lived in the Netherlands with such a group of knights before. Although Siegfried was wealthy, I believe he never gathered as many noble knights as she saw standing before Etzel. No one has ever given away so many expensive cloaks, long and wide, at their own wedding, nor such fine clothes, of which everyone had plenty, given in honor of Kriemhild. Her friends and the guests were determined to spare no expense. Whatever anyone asked for, they willingly provided, so much so that many knights ended up with no clothes left. Kriemhild thought about how she lived with her noble husband by the Rhine; her eyes grew moist, but she hid it well, so no one could see. She had received great honor after enduring many sorrows. Whatever generosity anyone showed was nothing compared to Dietrich's. What Botelung’s son had given him was completely squandered. Rudeger’s generous hand also did many wonders. Prince Bloedel of Hungary ordered many traveling chests filled with silver and gold to be emptied; all of it was given away. The king's champions were seen having a great time. Werbel and Swemmel, the king's minstrels, I believe, each earned a thousand marks, or maybe even more, while fair Kriemhild sat crowned at Etzel's side.
On the eighteenth morning they rode forth from Vienna. Many shields were pierced in tilting by spears, which the warriors bare in hand. Thus King Etzel came down to the Hunnish land. They spent the night at ancient Heimburg. (11) No one might know the press of folk, or with what force they rode across the land. Ho, what fair women they found in Etzel's native land! At mighty Misenburg (12) they boarded ship. The water which men saw flowing there was covered with steeds and men, as if it were solid earth. The wayworn ladies had their ease and rest. Many good ships were lashed together, that neither waves nor flood might do them harm. Upon them many a goodly tent was spread, as if they still had both land and plain.
On the eighteenth morning, they rode out from Vienna. Many shields were pierced in jousting by spears that the warriors held in hand. So, King Etzel came down to the land of the Huns. They spent the night at ancient Heimburg. (11) No one could know the crowd of people or how forcefully they traveled across the land. Wow, what beautiful women they found in Etzel's homeland! At mighty Misenburg (12), they boarded the ship. The water there was filled with horses and men, as if it were solid ground. The weary ladies had their comfort and rest. Many good ships were tied together so that neither waves nor floods could harm them. On them, many fine tents were set up, as if they still had both land and plain.
From thence tidings came to Etzelburg, (13) at which both men and wives therein were glad. Helca's meiny, that aforetime waited on their mistress, passed many a happy day thereafter at Kriemhild's side. There many a noble maid stood waiting, who had great grief through Helca's death. Kriemhild found still seven royal princesses there, through whom all Etzel's land was graced. For the meiny the high-born maiden Herrat (14) cared, the daughter of Helca's sister, beseen with many courtly virtues, the betrothed of Dietrich, a royal child, King Nentwin's (15) daughter; much worship she later had. Blithe of heart she was at the coming of the guests; for this, too, mighty treasures were prepared. Who might tell the tale of how the king held court? Never had men lived better among the Huns with any queen.
From there, news reached Etzelburg, (13) which made both the men and women inside happy. Helca's followers, who had once served their mistress, spent many joyful days afterward by Kriemhild's side. Many noble maidens waited there, deeply mourning Helca's death. Kriemhild found seven royal princesses there, who adorned all of Etzel's land. For the followers, the noble maiden Herrat (14) looked after them; she was Helca's sister's daughter, known for her many courtly virtues and engaged to Dietrich, a royal child, King Nentwin's (15) daughter; she later gained much respect. She was cheerful at the arrival of the guests; for this occasion, great treasures were prepared. Who could recount how the king held court? Never had people lived better among the Huns with any queen.
When that the king with his wife rode from the shore, the noble Kriemhild was told full well who each one was; she greeted them the better. Ho, how royally she ruled in Helca's stead! She became acquaint with much loyal service. Then the queen dealt out gold and vesture, silk and precious stones. Whatever she brought with her across the Rhine to Hungary must needs be given all away. All the king's kinsmen and all his liegemen then owned her service, so that Lady Helca never ruled so mightily as she, whom they now must serve till Kriemhild's death. The court and all the land lived in such high honors, that all time men found the pastimes which each heart desired, through the favor of the king and his good queen.
When the king rode back from the shore with his wife, the noble Kriemhild was well informed about everyone; she greeted them warmly. Oh, how royally she ruled in Helca's place! She became familiar with many loyal servants. Then the queen distributed gold, clothing, silk, and precious stones. Whatever she brought with her across the Rhine to Hungary had to be given away. All the king's relatives and all his vassals then served her, so that Lady Helca never had as much power as she, whom they were now bound to serve until Kriemhild's death. The court and the entire land enjoyed such high honors that at all times, people found the pastimes their hearts desired, thanks to the favor of the king and his good queen.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Kiev" (M.H.G. "Kiew") is now a government in the southwestern part of Russia. Its capital of the same name, situated on the Dnieper, is the oldest of the better known cities of Russia, and in the latter Middle Ages was an important station of the Hanseatic league. (2) "Petschenegers", a Turkish tribe originally dwelling to the north of the Caspian. By conquest they acquired a kingdom extending from the Don to Transylvania. They were feared for their ferociousness and because they continually invaded the surrounding countries, especially Kiev. (3) "Tulna" (M.H.G. "Tulne") is the modern Tulln, a walled town of Lower Austria, seventeen miles northwest of Vienna on the Danube. (4) "Ramung and Gibeck" (M.H.G. "Gibeche") appear only in our poem, nothing else is known of them. (5) "Hornbog" is frequently mentioned in the "Thidreksaga", but nothing otherwise is known of him. (6) "Hawart" is perhaps identical with the Saxon duke Hadugot, who is reputed to have played an important part in the conquest of Thuringia. He evidently comes from the Low German version. (7) "Iring" is considered by Wilmanns to have been originally an ancient deity, as the Milky Way is called "Iringe straze" or "Iringi". He occurs in a legend of the fall of the Thuringian kingdom, where he played such a prominent role that the Milky Way was named after him. See W. Grimm, "Heldensage", p. 394, who thinks, however, that the connection of Iring with the Milky Way is the result of a confusion. (8) "Irnfried" is considered to be Hermanfrid of Thuringia, who was overthrown and killed in A.D. 535 by Theuderich with the aid of the Saxons. See Felix Dahn, "Urgeschichte", iii, 73-79. He, too, comes from the Low German tradition. (9) "Bloedel" is Bleda, the brother of Attila, with whom he reigned conjointly from A.D. 433 to 445. In our poem the name appears frequently with the diminutive ending, as "Bloedelin". (10) "Werbel and Swemmel", who doubtless owe their introduction to some minstrel, enjoy special favor and are intrusted with the important mission of inviting the Burgundians to Etzel's court, an honor that would hardly be accorded to persons of their rank. Swemmel appears mostly in the diminutive form "Swemmelin". (11) "Heimburg" lies on the Danube near the Hungarian border. (12) "Misenburg" is the modern Wieselburg on the Danube, twenty-one miles southeast of Pressburg. (13) "Etzelburg" was later identified with the old part of Budapest, called in German "Ofen", through the influence of Hungarish legends, but, as G. Heinrich has shown, had no definite localization in the older M.H.G. epics. See Bleyer, PB. Belt. xxxi 433 and 506. The name occurs in documents as late as the fifteenth century. (14) "Herrat", the daughter of King "Nentwin" is frequently mentioned in the "Thidreksaga" as Dietrich's betrothed. She is spoken of as the exiled maid. (15) "Nentwin" is not found in any other saga, and nothing else is known of him. See W. Grimm, "Heldensage", 103.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Kiev" (M.H.G. "Kiew") is now a region in the southwestern part of Russia. Its capital, also called Kiev, located on the Dnieper River, is the oldest notable city in Russia and was an important hub for the Hanseatic League during the later Middle Ages. (2) "Petschenegers" were a Turkish tribe that originally lived north of the Caspian Sea. They built a kingdom through conquest that extended from the Don River to Transylvania. They were known for their brutality and their constant invasions of nearby lands, particularly Kiev. (3) "Tulna" (M.H.G. "Tulne") is today's Tulln, a fortified town in Lower Austria, located seventeen miles northwest of Vienna on the Danube River. (4) "Ramung and Gibeck" (M.H.G. "Gibeche") are only mentioned in our poem, and nothing else is known about them. (5) "Hornbog" is frequently referenced in the "Thidreksaga", but otherwise, there is no additional information about him. (6) "Hawart" may be the same as the Saxon duke Hadugot, who is believed to have played an important role in the conquest of Thuringia. He likely originates from the Low German version. (7) "Iring" is thought by Wilmanns to have originally been an ancient deity, as the Milky Way is referred to as "Iringe straze" or "Iringi". He appears in a legend about the fall of the Thuringian kingdom, where he held such a significant role that the Milky Way was named after him. See W. Grimm, "Heldensage", p. 394, although he suggests that the connection between Iring and the Milky Way may stem from confusion. (8) "Irnfried" is believed to be Hermanfrid of Thuringia, who was overthrown and killed in A.D. 535 by Theuderich with the help of the Saxons. See Felix Dahn, "Urgeschichte", iii, 73-79. He too comes from the Low German tradition. (9) "Bloedel" is Bleda, the brother of Attila, with whom he ruled together from A.D. 433 to 445. In our poem, the name often appears with a diminutive ending, as "Bloedelin". (10) "Werbel and Swemmel", likely introduced by some minstrel, are given special favor and tasked with the important job of inviting the Burgundians to Etzel's court, an honor unlikely to be granted to those of their rank. Swemmel mostly appears in the diminutive form "Swemmelin". (11) "Heimburg" is located on the Danube near the Hungarian border. (12) "Misenburg" is today's Wieselburg on the Danube, twenty-one miles southeast of Pressburg. (13) "Etzelburg" was later associated with the old part of Budapest, known in German as "Ofen", influenced by Hungarian legends. However, as G. Heinrich has demonstrated, it had no specific location in the earlier M.H.G. epics. See Bleyer, PB. Belt. xxxi 433 and 506. The name appears in documents up to the fifteenth century. (14) "Herrat", the daughter of King "Nentwin", is often mentioned in the "Thidreksaga" as Dietrich's fiancée. She is described as the exiled maiden. (15) "Nentwin" is not found in any other saga, and nothing more is known about him. See W. Grimm, "Heldensage", 103.
ADVENTURE XXIII. How Kriemhild Thought To Avenge Her Wrongs.
With great worship of a truth they lived together until the seventh year. In this time the queen was delivered of a son, at which King Etzel could not have been more joyful. She would not turn back, until she brought it to pass that Etzel's child was christened after the Christian rite. Men named it Ortlieb; (1) at this great joy arose over all of Etzel's lands. Whatever courtly breeding Lady Helca had possessed, Dame Kriemhild practiced this full many a day. Herrat, the exiled maid, who in secret grieved full sore for Helca, taught her the customs. Well was she known to the strangers and the home-folk. They vowed that never had a kingdom had a better or more bounteous queen. This they held for true. She bare this praise among the Huns until the thirteenth year. Now wot she well, that none would thwart her, as royal men-at-arms still do to a prince's wife, and that all time she saw twelve kings stand before her. Over many a wrong she brooded, that had happed to her at home. She thought likewise on the many honors in the Nibelung land, which she had there enjoyed and of which Hagen's hand had quite bereft her at Siegfried's death, and if perchance she might not make him suffer for his deed. "That would hap, if I might but bring him to this land." She dreamed that Giselher, her brother, walked often with her hand in hand. Alway she kissed him in her gentle slumber; later suffering came to both. I ween, the foul fiend did counsel Kriemhild this, that she withdrew her friendship from Giselher, whom for forgiveness' sake she had kissed in the Burgundian land. At this hot tears again gan soil her robe. Early and late it lay within her heart, how without fault of hers they had made her wed a heathen man. Hagen and Gunther had brought her to this pass. This wish she seldom gave over in her heart. She thought: "I am so mighty and have such great wealth, that I can do my foes an injury yet. Full ready would I be for this towards Hagen of Troneg. My heart doth often yearn for my faithful kin. Might I be with those who did me wrong, my lover's death would be well avenged. Scarce can I abide this," spake Etzel's wife.
With great reverence for a truth, they lived together until the seventh year. During this time, the queen gave birth to a son, which brought King Etzel immense joy. She insisted on ensuring that Etzel's child was baptized according to Christian customs. They named him Ortlieb; (1) such joy spread throughout all of Etzel's lands. Whatever noble qualities Lady Helca had, Dame Kriemhild developed many of those over the years. Herrat, the exiled maid who secretly mourned for Helca, taught her the customs. She was well-known among both strangers and locals. They all agreed that no kingdom had ever had a better or more generous queen, which they believed to be true. She carried this acclaim among the Huns until the thirteenth year. Now she knew well that no one would challenge her, as noble warriors often do to a prince's wife, and that she always had twelve kings standing before her. She contemplated many grievances that had occurred to her at home. She also reflected on the many honors she had enjoyed in the Nibelung land, which Hagen had completely taken from her at Siegfried's death, and she wondered if she could make him pay for his actions. "That will happen if I can only bring him to this land." She dreamed that Giselher, her brother, often walked hand in hand with her. She would always kiss him in her gentle sleep; later, suffering would come to both. I believe the foul fiend advised Kriemhild to withdraw her friendship from Giselher, whom she had kissed for the sake of forgiveness in the Burgundian land. At this, hot tears again stained her robe. Day and night, it weighed on her heart how, without any fault of hers, they had forced her to marry a pagan man. Hagen and Gunther had brought her to this situation. This wish rarely left her heart. She thought: "I am so powerful and have such great wealth that I can still harm my enemies. I would be fully willing to do this to Hagen of Troneg. My heart often longs for my loyal kin. If I could be with those who wronged me, my lover's death would finally be avenged. I can hardly stand this," spoke Etzel's wife.
All the king's men, Kriemhild's warriors, bare her love in duty bound. Of the chamber Eckewart had charge, which won him friends. None might gainsay Dame Kriemhild's will. All time she thought: "I will beg the king, that he in kindly wise may grant me to bring my kinsmen to the Hunnish land." None marked the evil purpose of the queen. One night when she lay by the king, and he did hold her in his arms, as he was wont to love the noble dame, who was dear to him as life, the high-born lady thought her of her foes. To the king she spake: "Dear my lord, I would fain beseech you, by your grace, that ye would show me that ye did love my kinsfolk, if I have earned the favor."
All the king's men, Kriemhild's warriors, express her love through their duty. Eckewart was in charge of the chamber, which earned him friends. No one could oppose Dame Kriemhild's wishes. All the time, she thought, "I will ask the king to kindly allow me to bring my relatives to the Hunnish land." No one noticed the queen's wicked intentions. One night, when she lay beside the king, who held her in his arms as he usually did with the noble lady he cherished as much as life, the high-born lady thought of her enemies. She spoke to the king: "My dear lord, I would like to ask you, if it pleases you, to show me that you care for my family, if I have earned your favor."
Then spake the king (true was his heart): "I'll give you to know however well the knights may fare, I may well have joy of this, for never have I won better kin through woman's love."
Then the king spoke (his heart was true): "Let me tell you, no matter how well the knights do, I can find joy in this, for I have never gained better family through a woman's love."
Again the queen spake: "It hath been well told you, that I have high-born kin; therefore do I grieve that they so seldom reck to see me here. I hear the folk aver that I be banished."
Again the queen said: "It has been well said to you that I come from a noble family; that’s why I feel sad that they rarely bother to visit me here. I hear people claim that I am exiled."
Then spake king Etzel: "Dear lady mine, and it think you not too far, I'll bid hither to my lands, from across the Rhine, whomso ye be fain to see."
Then King Etzel said, "My dear lady, if you don’t think it’s too much, I’ll invite anyone you want to see from across the Rhine to my lands."
The lady joyed her when she heard his will. She spake: "Would ye show me your faith, my lord, then send envoys to Worms across the Rhine, through whom I may tell my kinsfolk what I have in mind. Thus there will come hither to our land many a noble knight and a good."
The lady was delighted when she heard his will. She said, "If you want to show me your commitment, my lord, then send messengers to Worms across the Rhine, so I can inform my family about my intentions. That way, many noble knights and good people will come to our land."
He answered: "It shall hap whenso ye bid. Ye might not be more glad to see your kin than I to see the sons of the noble Uta. It doth irk me sore, that they have been strangers to us so long a time. If it please you, dear lady mine, I would fain send my minstrels for your kinsmen to the Burgundian land."
He replied, "It will happen whenever you want. You couldn’t be happier to see your family than I am to see the sons of the noble Uta. It really bothers me that they have been strangers to us for so long. If it’s okay with you, my dear lady, I would love to send my musicians to invite your relatives from the Burgundian land."
He bade the good minstrels be fetched straightway. Quickly they hasted to where the king sate by the queen. He told the twain they should be envoys to the Burgundian land and bade full lordly weeds be made ready for them. Clothing was prepared for four and twenty warriors, and the message was told them by the king, how they should bid Gunther and his liegemen hither. Kriemhild, the queen, talked with them apart. Then spake the mighty king: "I'll tell you what to say. I offer to my kin my love and service, that it may please them to ride hither to my land. But few such welcome guests have I known, and if they perchance will fulfill my wish, tell Kriemhild's kinsmen that they must not fall to come this summer to my feast, for much of my joy doth lie upon the kinsmen of my wife."
He called for the good musicians to be brought right away. They quickly rushed to where the king was sitting with the queen. He told them that they would be messengers to the land of Burgundy and ordered grand clothing to be prepared for them. Outfits were made for twenty-four warriors, and the king explained the message they needed to deliver, inviting Gunther and his followers to come here. Kriemhild, the queen, spoke with them privately. Then the powerful king said: "Here’s what you should say. I offer my love and service to my family, hoping it pleases them to come to my land. I haven’t had many guests like them, and if they happen to agree to my request, tell Kriemhild’s relatives not to come to my feast this summer, as much of my joy depends on my wife's family."
Then spake the minstrel, the proud Swemmel: "When shall your feasting be in these lands, that I may tell it yonder to your kin?"
Then the minstrel, the proud Swemmel, said: "When will your feasting take place in these lands, so I can tell your relatives?"
King Etzel answered: "On next midsummer's day."
King Etzel replied, "On the next summer solstice."
"We'll do as ye command," spake then Werbel.
"We'll do as you say," then spoke Werbel.
The queen bade them be brought secretly unto her bower, where she then talked with the envoys. From this but little joy happed to many a knight. To the two messengers she spake: "Now earn ye mickle goods, in that ye do my pleasure full willingly and give the message which I send to my native land. I'll make you rich in goods and give you the lordly robes. And if ye see any of my kin at Worms upon the Rhine, ye must not tell them that ye ever saw me sad of heart. Tender my service to the heroes brave and good. Beg that they do as the king doth bid and thus part me from all my grief. The Huns ween, I be without kith and kin. Were I a knight, I'd visit them myself at times. And say to Gernot, too, the noble brother of mine, that none in the world doth love him more. Beg him to bring with him to this land our best of friends, that it may be to our honor. Say also to Giselher, that he remember well, I never gained grief through fault of his. Therefore would mine eyes fain sue him. For his great loyalty I would gladly have him here. Tell my mother also of the honors which I have, and if Hagen of Troneg be minded to stay at home, who then should lead them through the lands? From a child he knoweth the roads to Hungary." (2)
The queen had them brought secretly to her chamber, where she talked with the messengers. This brought little joy to many knights. To the two messengers, she said: "Now you will earn a lot, as you willingly do my bidding and deliver the message I’m sending to my homeland. I will make you wealthy with gifts and give you fine clothing. And if you see any of my family in Worms on the Rhine, you must not tell them that you ever saw me sad. Please convey my respects to the brave and noble heroes. Ask them to follow the king's orders and help relieve my sorrow. The Huns think I am without family. If I were a knight, I would visit them myself. And tell Gernot, my noble brother, that no one loves him more than I do. Ask him to bring our best friends here, as it would be an honor for us. Also tell Giselher that he should remember, I’ve never been upset because of him. That’s why I would like to see him. Because of his great loyalty, I’d happily have him here. Let my mother know about the honors I have, and if Hagen of Troneg wants to stay home, who will then guide them through the lands? He knows the roads to Hungary well since he was a child." (2)
The envoys wist not, why it was done, that they should not let Hagen of Troneg stay upon the Rhine. Later it repented them full sore. With him many a knight was doomed to a savage death. Letters and messages had now been given them. They rode forth rich in goods, and well could lead a sumptuous life. Of Etzel and his fair wife they took their leave, their persons adorned full well with goodly weeds.
The envoys didn’t know why they shouldn’t let Hagen of Troneg stay on the Rhine. Later, they regretted it deeply. With him, many knights were destined for a brutal death. They had received letters and messages. They rode out, wealthy and equipped to live a lavish life. They said goodbye to Etzel and his beautiful wife, their appearances well-decorated with fine clothes.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Ortlieb" is not historical, and in the "Thidreksaga" Etzel's son is called Aldrian. Bleyer, "Die germanischen Elemente der ungarischen, Hunnensage", PB. Beit. xxxi, 570, attempt to prove the identity of the names by means of a form "Arda", giving on the one hand Hungarian "Aladar", "Aldrian", on the other German "Arte", "Orte". (2) "Hungary". According to the account in "Waltharius", Hagen spent his youth as a hostage at Etzel's court.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Ortlieb" is not historical, and in the "Thidreksaga" Etzel's son is called Aldrian. Bleyer, "Die germanischen Elemente der ungarischen, Hunnensage", PB. Beit. xxxi, 570, attempts to prove the identity of the names by using a form "Arda", showing Hungarian "Aladar", "Aldrian" alongside German "Arte", "Orte". (2) "Hungary". According to the account in "Waltharius", Hagen spent his youth as a hostage at Etzel's court.
ADVENTURE XXIV. How Werbel And Swemmel Brought The Message.
When that Etzel had sent his envoys to the Rhine, these tidings flew from land to land. Through full speedy messengers he begged and bade to his high feasting. From this many a one met there his death. The envoys rode away from the Hunnish land to Burgundy. They were sent thither for three noble kings and for their men, that these should come to Etzel; therefore all gan haste. To Bechelaren they came a-riding, where served them gladly. Rudeger and Gotelind and the child of them twain delayed not to send their service through the envoys to the Rhine. Nor did they let them part hence without gifts, that Etzel's men might fare the better. To Uta and her sons Rudeger sent word that they had no more loyal margrave than he. To Brunhild, also, they tendered service and good wishes, constant fealty and a loving mind. When they heard the speech that the envoys would ride, the margravine begged God in heaven to keep them well.
When Etzel sent his messengers to the Rhine, news quickly spread from land to land. Through swift messengers, he invited everyone to his grand feast. Many ended up meeting their fate there. The envoys traveled from the Hunnish territory to Burgundy. They were sent there on behalf of three noble kings and their men, asking them to join Etzel; so everyone hurried on their way. They arrived at Bechelaren, where they were welcomed warmly. Rudeger and Gotelind and their child promptly sent their services through the envoys to the Rhine. They didn’t let them leave empty-handed, offering gifts so that Etzel’s men would have a better journey. Rudeger informed Uta and her sons that there was no more loyal margrave than he. They also extended their service and best wishes to Brunhild, promising steadfast loyalty and affection. When they heard that the envoys were about to leave, the margravine prayed to God in heaven to keep them safe.
Before the messengers were quite come through Bavarian land, the doughty Werbel sought out the good Bishop Pilgrim. What word he sent to his kin upon the Rhine, that I know not, but naught but ruddy gold he gave the messengers for love and let them ride.
Before the messengers had fully crossed Bavarian territory, the brave Werbel sought out the good Bishop Pilgrim. I don't know what message he sent to his family along the Rhine, but he gave the messengers nothing but bright gold for love and let them continue on their way.
Then spake the bishop: "And might I see them here, my sister's sons, I should be blithe of mood, for full seldom can I come to them upon the Rhine."
Then the bishop said, "If I could see my sister's sons here, I would be delighted, because I rarely get to visit them on the Rhine."
What roads they traveled to the Rhine, I cannot tell. None robbed them of their silver and their weeds; men feared their master's wrath. Certes the noble high-born king was a mighty lord.
What routes they took to the Rhine, I can’t say. No one stole their silver and their clothes; people feared their master's anger. Indeed, the noble, well-born king was a powerful lord.
Within a twelfth night Werbel and Swemmel came to the Rhine, to the land of Worms. To the kings and their liegemen tidings were told that there came strange messengers. Gunther, the lord of the Rhineland, gan ask: "Who will do us to wit, from whence these strangers ride into our land?"
Within a twelfth night, Werbel and Swemmel arrived at the Rhine, in the land of Worms. The kings and their subjects were informed that strange messengers had come. Gunther, the lord of the Rhineland, began to ask: "Who will tell us where these strangers are coming from?"
This none wist, till Hagen of Troneg saw them, who then spake to Gunther: "New tidings be come to us, as I will vouch, for I have seen King Etzel's minstrels here. Them your sister hath sent to the Rhine; for their master's sake we must give them a kindly welcome."
This no one knew until Hagen of Troneg saw them, and then he spoke to Gunther: "New news has come to us, I can assure you, because I have seen King Etzel's musicians here. Your sister sent them to the Rhine; for their master's sake, we must welcome them warmly."
Already they were riding up before the palace; never did a prince's minstrels journey in more lordly wise. Straightway the king's meiny bade them welcome. Men gave them lodgings and bade take in charge their trappings. Their traveling clothes were rich and so well fashioned that with honor they might come before the king, but they would not wear them longer there at court, and asked if there were any that desired them. At the selfsame moment folk were found who fain would take them, and to these they were sent. Then the strangers donned far better weeds, such as well befitted king's messengers for to wear.
They were already riding up to the palace; never had a prince's musicians arrived in such a grand manner. Immediately, the king's attendants welcomed them. People provided them with lodging and took care of their belongings. Their traveling outfits were luxurious and so well-made that they could proudly appear before the king, but they chose not to wear them any longer at court and asked if anyone wanted them. At that very moment, there were people who were eager to take them, so they were given away. Then the newcomers put on much better clothes, suitable for royal messengers to wear.
Then Etzel's retainers went by leave to where the king was sitting; men saw this gladly. Hagen sprang courteously towards the messengers and greeted them in loving wise. For this the squires did say him thanks. That he might know their tidings, he gan ask how Etzel fared and all his men. Then spake the minstrel: "Never did the land stand better, nor were the folk more merry; now know that of a truth."
Then Etzel's attendants went to where the king was sitting; people welcomed this happily. Hagen courteously approached the messengers and greeted them warmly. For this, the squires thanked him. Wanting to know their news, he asked how Etzel and all his men were doing. Then the minstrel spoke: "The land has never been in better shape, nor have the people been happier; you can know this for sure."
To the host they went; the hall was full. There men received the guests, as one must do by right, when kindly greetings be sent to the lands of other kings. Werbel found full many warriors there at Gunther's side. In courteous wise the king gan greet them: "Ye minstrels of the Huns and all your fellowship, be ye welcome. Hath the mighty Etzel sent you hither to the Burgundian land?"
To the host they went; the hall was packed. There, the men welcomed the guests, as is proper when warm greetings are sent from one king to another. Werbel found many warriors there with Gunther. Courteously, the king greeted them: "You minstrels of the Huns and all your companions, welcome. Has the mighty Etzel sent you here to the Burgundian land?"
To the king they bowed; then spake Werbel: "My dear lord, and also Kriemhild, your sister, do send you loyal service to this land. They have sent us to you knights in all good faith."
To the king they bowed; then Werbel spoke: "My dear lord, and also Kriemhild, your sister, send you their loyal service to this land. They have sent us to you knights in all good faith."
Spake the mighty prince: "Merry am I at this tale. How fareth Etzel," so asked the knight, "and Kriemhild, my sister, of the Hunnish land?"
Spoke the mighty prince: "I’m happy to hear this story. How is Etzel doing," the knight asked, "and my sister Kriemhild, from the land of the Huns?"
Quoth the minstrel: "This tale I'll tell you; ye should know that never have folk fared better than the twain and all their followers, their kinsmen and their vassals. They joyed them of the journey, as we departed hence."
Quoth the minstrel: "This tale I'll tell you; you should know that no one has ever fared better than the two of them and all their followers, their relatives and their vassals. They enjoyed the journey as we left here."
"Gramercy for his greetings which he hath sent me, and for those of my sister, sith it standeth so that the king and his men live thus in happiness, for I did ask the news in fear and trembling."
"Thank you for the greetings he sent me, and for those from my sister, since it seems that the king and his men are living happily, as I asked for news with fear and trembling."
The two young princes were now also come, for they had but just heard the tale. For the sake of his sister Giselher, the youth, was fain to see the envoys. He spake to them in loving wise: "Ye messengers, be very welcome to us. An' ye would ride more often hither to the Rhine, ye would find friends here whom ye would be glad to see. Little of harm shall hap you in this land."
The two young princes had just arrived because they had just heard the story. For the sake of his sister Giselher, the young man was eager to meet the envoys. He spoke to them kindly: "Welcome, messengers! If you came more often to the Rhine, you would find friends here who would be happy to see you. Nothing bad will happen to you in this land."
"We trust you in all honor," spake then Swemmel. "I could not convey to you with all my wits, how lovingly king Etzel and your noble sister, who live in such great worship, have sent their greetings. The queen doth mind you of your love and fealty, and that your heart and mind did ever hold her dear. But first and foremost we be sent to the king, that ye may deign to ride to Etzel's land. The mighty Etzel enjoined us strictly to beg you this and sent the message to you all, that if ye would not let your sister see you, he fain would know what he had done you that ye be so strange to him and to his lands. An' ye had never known the queen, yet would he fain bring it to pass that consent to come and see him. It would please him well if that might hap."
"We trust you completely," said Swemmel. "I can’t express how much King Etzel and your noble sister, who are held in such high regard, have sent their greetings. The queen remembers your love and loyalty, and that you have always held her dear. But above all, we’ve come to speak to the king, hoping you will agree to travel to Etzel's land. The mighty Etzel insisted that we ask you this and sent word that if you won't let your sister see you, he wants to know what he has done to make you distant from him and his lands. Even if you’ve never met the queen, he would still like you to consent to visit him. It would truly please him if that could happen."
Then spake King Gunther: "In a sennight I will tell you the tale of what I have bethought me with my friends. Meanwhile hie you to your lodgings and rest you well."
Then King Gunther said, "In a week, I will share the story of what I've been thinking about with my friends. In the meantime, go to your rooms and get some rest."
Quoth Werbel again: "And could that be that we might see my lady, the royal Uta, afore we take our easement?"
Quoth Werbel again: "And could it be that we might see my lady, the royal Uta, before we take our break?"
The noble Giselher spake then full courteously: "None shall hinder that. An' ye would go before her, ye will do in full my mother's wish, for she will gladly see you for my sister's sake, the Lady Kriemhild; she will make you welcome."
The noble Giselher spoke then very politely: "No one will stop that. If you go see her, you'll be fulfilling my mother's wish, as she will be happy to see you for my sister's sake, the Lady Kriemhild; she will welcome you."
Giselher led them to where they found the queen. Gladly she gazed upon the envoys from the Hunnish land. Through her courtesie she gave them gentle greeting. The good and courtly messengers then told their tale. "My lady offereth you of a truth," so spake Swemmel, "her love and duty. Might that be that she could see you oft, ye may well believe she had no better joy in all the world."
Giselher guided them to where the queen was waiting. She happily looked at the envoys from the Hunnish realm. With her grace, she welcomed them warmly. The noble and courteous messengers then shared their story. "My lady truly offers you," said Swemmel, "her love and loyalty. If she could see you often, you can be sure that would bring her more joy than anything else in the world."
Then spake the queen: "That may not be. However gladly I would often see the dear daughter of mine, yet doth the wife of the noble king live, alas, too far from me. May she and Etzel be ever blessed. Pray let me know before ye leave, when ye would hence again; not in a long time have I seen messengers so gladly as I have you." The squires vowed that this should hap.
Then the queen said, "That can't happen. As much as I would love to see my dear daughter, the wife of the noble king lives, sadly, too far away from me. May she and Etzel always be blessed. Please let me know before you leave, when you’ll be heading back; I haven't seen messengers I was so happy to see in a long time as I am with you." The squires promised that this would happen.
Those from the Hunnish land now rode to their lodgings. Meanwhile the mighty king had sent to fetch his friends. The noble Gunther asked his liegemen how they liked the speech. Many a one gan say that the king well might ride to Etzel's land. The very best among them advised him this, save Hagen alone; him misliked it sore. Privily he spake to the king: "Ye fight against yourself; ye know full well what we have done. We may well be ever on our guard with Kriemhild, for with mine own hand I slew her husband to death. How durst we ride to Etzel's land?"
Those from the Hunnish land now rode to their lodgings. Meanwhile, the mighty king had sent to gather his friends. The noble Gunther asked his men how they felt about the speech. Many said that the king could certainly ride to Etzel's land. The best among them suggested this, except for Hagen, who strongly disagreed. Secretly, he spoke to the king: "You're fighting against yourself; you know very well what we've done. We should always be cautious with Kriemhild, as I killed her husband with my own hand. How can we dare ride to Etzel's land?"
Then spake the mighty king: "My sister gave over her wrath; with a kiss she lovingly forgave what we had done her, or ever she rode away. Unless be that the feud doth stand against you alone."
Then spoke the mighty king: "My sister let go of her anger; with a kiss she lovingly forgave what we had done to her, before she rode away. Unless the feud is only against you."
Quoth Hagen: "Now let the messengers from the Huns beguile you not, whatsoever they say. Would ye visit Kriemhild, easily may ye lose there both life and honor. Full long of vengeance is King Etzel's wife."
Quoth Hagen: "Now don't let the messengers from the Huns deceive you, no matter what they say. If you visit Kriemhild, you could easily lose both your life and your honor. King Etzel's wife has a long history of vengeance."
Then spake Prince Gernot to the council: "Why should we give it over, because ye rightly fear death in the Hunnish lands? It were an ill deed not to go to see our sister."
Then Prince Gernot spoke to the council: "Why should we give it up, just because you rightly fear death in the Hunnish lands? It would be a bad decision not to go see our sister."
Then spake Prince Giselher to the knight: "Sith ye know you to be guilty, friend Hagen, ye should stay at home and guard you well, and let those who dare ride with us to my sister."
Then Prince Giselher said to the knight, "Since you know you're guilty, friend Hagen, you should stay home and watch out for yourself, and let those who are brave enough ride with us to visit my sister."
At this the knight of Troneg grew wroth of mood. "I will not that ye take any with you on the way, who durst better ride to court than I. Sith ye will not turn you, I will well show you that."
At this, the knight of Troneg became angry. "I won't have anyone come with you on the way who can ride to court better than I. Since you won’t turn back, I’ll prove it to you."
Then spake the master of the kitchen, Rumolt, the knight: "Ye can well have the strangers and the home-folk cared for here, after your own desire, for ye have full store of goods. I ween, Hagen hath never given you for a hostage; (1) but if ye will not follow him, Rumolt adviseth you, for I be bound to you in fealty and duty, that for my sake ye abide here and leave King Etzel there with Kriemhild. How might it fare more gently with you in all the world? Ye be well able to stand before your foes; so deck your body out with brave attire, drink the best of wine, and pay court to stately ladies. Thereto ye be served with the best of food that ever king did gain in the world. And were this not so, yet should ye tarry here for your fair wife's sake, before ye risk your life so childishly. Wherefore I do counsel you to stay at home. Your lands be rich, and one can redeem his pledges better at home than among the Huns. Who knoweth how it standeth there? Ye should stay at home, Sire, that is Rumolt's counsel."
Then spoke the master of the kitchen, Rumolt, the knight: "You can certainly take care of the strangers and the locals here, just as you wish, because you have plenty of supplies. I don’t think Hagen has given you as a hostage; but if you’re not going to follow him, I advise you, because I am bound to you in loyalty and duty, to stay here and leave King Etzel with Kriemhild. How could things be any better for you anywhere else? You are quite capable of standing up to your enemies, so dress your body in fine clothes, drink the best wine, and pay court to noble ladies. You are being served the best food that any king could get in the world. And even if it weren't, you should still stay here for your lovely wife's sake before you risk your life so recklessly. Therefore, I counsel you to remain at home. Your lands are rich, and one can fulfill promises better at home than among the Huns. Who knows how things are over there? You should stay at home, Sire, that is Rumolt's advice."
"We will not stay," quoth Gernot. "Sith my sister and the mighty Etzel have bidden us in such friendly wise, why should we not accept? He that liketh not to go may stay at home."
"We're not staying," Gernot said. "Since my sister and the powerful Etzel have invited us so warmly, why shouldn't we accept? Whoever doesn't want to go can stay home."
To This Hagen answered: "Take not my speech amiss, however ye may fare. In all truth I counsel you, would ye guard your lives, then ride to the Huns well armed. Sith ye will not turn you, send for your men-at-arms, the best ye have or can find in any part; from among them all I'll choose a thousand doughty knights. Then Kriemhild's evil mood can bring you naught of harm."
To this, Hagen replied, "Don’t take my words the wrong way, no matter how things go for you. Honestly, I advise you that if you want to stay safe, then ride out to face the Huns well-armed. Since you won’t back down, gather your best fighters, anyone you can find. From among them, I’ll pick a thousand brave knights. Then, Kriemhild’s bad attitude won’t be able to hurt you."
"This rede I'll gladly follow," spake straightway the king. He then bade messengers ride far and wide throughout his lands. Three thousand champions or more they fetched. Little they weened to gain such grievous woe. Full merrily they rode to Gunther's court. Men bade give all that were to ride forth from Burgundy both steeds and trappings. The king gained full many a one with willing mood. Then Hagen of Troneg bade his brother Dankwart lead eighty of their warriors to the Rhine. In knightly guise they came; these doughty men took with them harness and trappings into Gunther's land. Then came bold Folker, a noble minstrel he, with thirty of his men for the journey to Kriemhild's court. They had clothing such as a king might wear. Gunther bade make known, he would to the Hunnish land. I'll do you now to wit who Folker was. He was a noble lord, the liege of many doughty knights in Burgundy. A minstrel he was called, for that he wist how to fiddle. Hagen chose a thousand whom he well knew; oft had he seen what their hands had wrought in press of battle, or in whatever else they did. None might aver aught else of them than doughtiness.
"I'll gladly follow this advice," the king said immediately. He then sent messengers to ride far and wide across his lands. They brought back three thousand champions or more. Little did they think they would face such serious trouble. They rode merrily to Gunther's court. The men were ordered to equip everyone setting out from Burgundy with both horses and gear. The king gained many volunteers in good spirits. Then Hagen of Troneg instructed his brother Dankwart to lead eighty of their warriors to the Rhine. They arrived in knightly attire; these brave men brought their armor and gear into Gunther's land. Then came bold Folker, a noble minstrel, with thirty of his men for the journey to Kriemhild's court. They wore clothing fit for a king. Gunther announced his intention to travel to Hunnish territory. Let me tell you who Folker was. He was a noble lord, the lord of many brave knights in Burgundy. He was called a minstrel because he knew how to play the fiddle. Hagen chose a thousand men whom he knew well; he had often seen what they could do in battle or in any other situation. No one could say anything but that they were brave.
The tarrying irked Kriemhild's envoys sore, for great was their fear of their lord. Daily they craved leave to go; this Hagen would not grant through craftiness. To his master he spake: "We should well guard against letting them ride away, until we ourselves fare forth a sennight later to Etzel's land. If any beareth us ill will, the better shall we wot it. Nor may Lady Kriemhild then make ready that through any plan of hers, men do us harm. An' this be her will, she'll fare full ill, for many a chosen liegeman had we hence."
The delay annoyed Kriemhild's messengers deeply, as they were very afraid of their lord. Each day they asked for permission to leave; however, Hagen cleverly refused to let them go. He said to his master, "We should be careful not to let them ride off until we ourselves set out a week later to Etzel's land. If anyone bears us ill will, we’d be better off knowing about it. And Lady Kriemhild won’t be able to prepare anything against us that could cause harm. If that’s her plan, she will find it difficult, as we have many loyal knights here."
Shields and saddles, and all the garments that they would take with them to Etzel's land, were now full ready for many a brave man-at-arms. Now men bade Kriemhild's messengers go before King Gunther. When they were come, Gernot spake: "The king will do as Etzel asked us, we will gladly come to his high feast to see our sister; be no more in doubt of that."
Shields, saddles, and all the gear they would take with them to Etzel's land were now ready for many brave knights. The men sent Kriemhild's messengers to King Gunther. When they arrived, Gernot said, "The king will do as Etzel requested; we’re happy to attend his grand feast to see our sister. Don’t doubt that."
Then King Gunther spake: "Wist ye how to tell us, when this feast shall be, or in what time we should go thither?"
Then King Gunther said, "Do you know when this feast will be, or when we should go there?"
Swemmel replied: "Of a truth it shall be on next midsummer's day."
Swemmel replied, "For sure, it'll be on the next midsummer's day."
The king gave them leave (this had not happed as yet), if they would fain see Lady Brunhild, to go before her with his free will. This Folker hindered, which pleased her much. "Forsooth, my Lady Brunhild is not so well of mood, that ye may see her," spake the good knight. "Bide the morrow, and men will let you see her." When they weened to gaze upon her, it might not hap.
The king granted them permission (this hadn’t happened yet), if they really wanted to see Lady Brunhild, to go before her with his blessing. Folker stopped them, which made her very happy. "Honestly, my Lady Brunhild isn’t in the right mood for visitors," said the good knight. "Wait until tomorrow, and the men will let you see her." When they thought they would get to see her, it didn’t happen.
Then the mighty prince, who liked the envoys well, through his own courtesie, bade his gold be carried forth on the broad shields of which he had great store. Rich gifts were also given them by his kinsmen Giselher and Gernot, Gere and Ortwin. Well they showed, that they were generous, too. They offered the messengers such rich gifts, that for fear of their lord they durst not take them.
Then the powerful prince, who had a good opinion of the envoys, kindly ordered his gold to be carried out on the large shields he had in abundance. His relatives Giselher and Gernot, along with Gere and Ortwin, also gave them lavish gifts. They demonstrated their generosity as well. They offered the messengers such valuable gifts that, out of fear of their lord, the envoys didn’t dare to accept them.
Now spake the envoy Werbel to the king: "Sir King, let your gifts stay here at home. We may carry none away; our lord forbade that we take aught of gifts. Then too, there is but little need."
Now spoke the envoy Werbel to the king: "Sir King, keep your gifts here at home. We can’t take any with us; our lord forbade us from taking anything as gifts. Also, there’s not much need."
Then the ruler of the Rhine waxed wroth, that they should thus refuse the gifts of so mighty a king. At last they were forced to take his gold and weeds, the which they later bare to Etzel's land. They would fain see the Lady Uta, or ever they departed hence, so the doughty Giselher brought the minstrels before his mother Uta. The lady sent the message, that whatever honors her daughter had, this gave her joy. Then the queen bade give the minstrels of her edgings and her gold, for the sake of King Etzel and Kriemhild whom she loved. Gladly they took the gifts; in good faith 'twas done.
Then the ruler of the Rhine got really angry that they would refuse the gifts from such a powerful king. Eventually, they had to accept his gold and treasures, which they later took to Etzel's land. Before they left, they wanted to see Lady Uta, so brave Giselher brought the minstrels to his mother Uta. The lady sent a message saying that whatever honors her daughter had brought her joy. Then the queen instructed them to give to the minstrels some of her treasures and gold, in honor of King Etzel and Kriemhild, whom she loved. They happily accepted the gifts; it was done in good faith.
The messengers had now taken their leave from thence, from wives and men. Merrily they rode away to Swabia. Thither Gernot bade his knights escort them, that none might do them harm. When they parted from those who should have them in their care, Etzel's power did guard them on all their ways, so that none bereft them of either horse or trappings. With great speed they hasted towards Etzel's land. To all the friends they wot of, they made known that in a short time the Burgundians would come hither from the Rhine to the Hunnish land. To the Bishop Pilgrim too, the tale was told. As they rode adown the highway before Bechelaren, men delayed not to tell Rudeger and Gotelind, the margrave's wife. Merry she grew that she should see them. Men saw the minstrels hasting with the tidings. They found King Etzel in the town of Gran. (2) Greeting after greeting they gave the king, of which full many had been sent him. He blushed for very joy.
The messengers had now taken their leave from there, from their wives and men. They rode happily away to Swabia. There Gernot instructed his knights to escort them, ensuring that no one would harm them. When they parted from those who were to protect them, Etzel's power safeguarded them on all their journeys so that no one took their horses or gear. They hurried towards Etzel's land. To all the friends they knew, they informed them that soon the Burgundians would be coming from the Rhine to the Hunnish land. They also told Bishop Pilgrim the news. As they rode down the highway past Bechelaren, they didn’t delay in informing Rudeger and Gotelind, the margrave's wife. She became joyful at the thought of seeing them. People saw the minstrels rushing with the news. They found King Etzel in the town of Gran. (2) They greeted the king warmly, and he was overwhelmed with joy by all the greetings he received.
Happy of mood was the queen, when she heard the tale aright that her brothers should come into the land. She gave the minstrels great gifts as meed. This was done for honor's sake. She spake: "Now tell me, both of you, Werbel and Swemmel, which of my kin are minded to be at the feast? Will the best of those we bade come hither to this land? Pray tell me what Hagen said when he heard the tale."
Happy was the queen when she heard the story that her brothers were coming to the land. She gave the minstrels great gifts as a reward. This was done for the sake of honor. She said, "Now tell me, both of you, Werbel and Swemmel, which of my relatives plan to be at the feast? Will the best of those we invited come to this land? Please tell me what Hagen said when he heard the story."
The minstrel answered: "He came on a morning early to the council, and but little of fair speech he spake thereby. When they pledged the journey hither to the Hunnish lands, that was as words of death to the wrathful Hagen. Your brothers, the three kings, will come in lordly mood. Whoever else may come, this tale I know not of a surety. The brave minstrel Folker vowed to ride along."
The minstrel replied, "He arrived early one morning at the council and didn't say much. When they promised the journey to the Hunnish lands, it was like a death sentence to the angry Hagen. Your brothers, the three kings, will show up in a grand way. I can't be certain about anyone else who might come. The brave minstrel Folker promised to ride along."
"Little do I reck," spake the queen, "whether I ever see Folker here. Of Hagen I be fond, he is a doughty hero. My spirits stand high that we may see him here."
"Little do I care," said the queen, "whether I ever see Folker here. I am fond of Hagen; he is a brave hero. I'm hopeful that we will see him here."
Then the queen went to where she saw the king. How lovingly Dame Kriemhild spake: "How like you these tales, dear my lord? What I have ever craved, shall now be brought to pass."
Then the queen went to where she saw the king. How lovingly Lady Kriemhild spoke: "How do you like these tales, my dear lord? What I've always wanted will now come true."
"Thy wish is my joy," spake then the king. "Never have I been so blithe of mine own kin, when they should come hither to my lands. Through the kindness of thy kinsmen my care hath fled away."
"Your wish is my joy," said the king then. "I've never been so happy with my own family when they come to my lands. Because of the kindness of your relatives, my worries have disappeared."
King Etzel's officers bade everywhere palace and hall be purveyed with benches for the guests which were to come. Thereafter the king heard from them mickle weeping.
King Etzel's officers ordered that all the palaces and halls be furnished with benches for the guests who were coming. After that, the king heard a lot of weeping from them.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Hostage", i.e., he has never betrayed you to your enemies. (2) "Gran", royal free city of Hungary, on the right bank of the Danube opposite the influx of the Gran, twenty-four miles northwest of Budapest.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Hostage", meaning he has never turned against you to your enemies. (2) "Gran", a royal free city in Hungary, located on the right bank of the Danube across from the Gran River, twenty-four miles northwest of Budapest.
ADVENTURE XXV. How The Lords All Journeyed To The Huns.
Now let us leave the tale of how they lived at Etzel's court. More high-mettled warriors never rode in such lordly wise to the land of any king; they had whatever they listed, both of weapons and of weeds. The ruler of the Rhineland clad his men, a thousand and sixty knights, (1) as I have heard, and nine thousand footmen, for the courtly feast. Those they left at home bewailed it in after time. The trappings were now borne across the court at Worms; then spake an aged bishop from Speyer to fair Uta: "Our friends would journey to the feasting. May God preserve their honor there."
Now let’s move on from the story of how they lived at Etzel's court. No braver warriors ever rode so nobly to any king's land; they had everything they wanted, both in weapons and attire. The ruler of the Rhineland outfitted his men, a thousand and sixty knights, (1) as I've heard, along with nine thousand foot soldiers, for the court feast. Those who stayed behind regretted it later on. The gear was now brought across the court at Worms; then an old bishop from Speyer spoke to beautiful Uta: "Our friends are heading to the feast. May God protect their honor there."
The noble Lady Uta then spake to her sons: "Pray tarry here, good knights. Me-dreamed last night of direst woe, how all the fowls in this land lay dead."
The noble Lady Uta then said to her sons: "Please stay here, good knights. I dreamt last night of terrible sorrow, that all the birds in this land were dead."
"Who recketh aught of dreams," quoth Hagen, "he wotteth not how to say the proper words, when 'twould bring him great store of honors. I wish that my lord go to court to take his leave. We must gladly ride to Etzel's land. The arms of doughty heroes may serve kings there full well, where we shall behold Kriemhild's feast."
"Who cares about dreams," Hagen said, "doesn't know how to choose the right words when it could earn him a lot of respect. I hope my lord goes to court to say his goodbye. We should happily ride to Etzel’s land. The weapons of brave heroes will serve kings well there, where we will see Kriemhild's feast."
Hagen counseled the journey, but later it rued him sore. He would have advised against it, but that Gernot encountered him with such rude words. Of Siegfried, Lady Kriemhild's husband, he minded him; he spake: "Because of him Hagen will not make the journey to the court."
Hagen suggested the trip, but later he deeply regretted it. He would have recommended against it, but Gernot confronted him with such harsh words. He thought of Siegfried, Lady Kriemhild's husband, and said: "Because of him, Hagen will not go to the court."
At this Hagen of Troneg spake: "I do it not from fear. Heroes, when it please you, begin the work. Certes I will gladly ride with you to Etzel's land." Later he carved to pieces many a helm and shield.
At this, Hagen of Tronje said, "I'm not doing this out of fear. Heroes, when you're ready, let's get started. Of course, I'd be happy to ride with you to Etzel's land." Later, he smashed many helmets and shields to pieces.
The skiffs were now made ready; many a knight stood there. Thither men bare whatever clothes they had. Busy they were until the even tide, then full merrily they set forth from home. Tents and pavilions were raised upon the green beyond the Rhine. When this had happed, the king bade his fair wife tarry with him. That night she still embraced her stately knight. Trumpeting and fluting rose early on the morn, as sign that they should ride. Then to the work they went. Whoso held in his arms his love caressed the fair. Later King Etzel's wife parted them with woe.
The skiffs were now ready; many knights were gathered there. Men took off whatever clothes they had. They were busy until evening, then they happily set off from home. Tents and pavilions were set up on the green beyond the Rhine. Once this was done, the king asked his beautiful wife to stay with him. That night she still held her noble knight close. Trumpets and flutes sounded early the next morning, signaling that they should ride. Then they got to work. Whoever held their love in their arms cherished them. Later, King Etzel's wife sadly separated them.
Fair Uta's sons, they had a liegeman, brave and true. When they would hence, he spake to the king in secret wise his mind. Quoth he: "I must bewail that ye make this journey to the court." He was hight Rumolt and was a hero of his hands. He spake: "To whom will ye leave your folk and lands? O that none can turn you warriors from your mind! These tidings from Kriemhild have never thought me good."
Fair Uta's sons had a loyal servant, brave and trustworthy. When they were about to leave, he quietly spoke to the king, sharing his thoughts. He said, "I must express my sorrow that you are making this journey to the court." His name was Rumolt, and he was a skilled warrior. He continued, "Whom will you leave in charge of your people and lands? Oh, that no one can change your minds, warriors! This news from Kriemhild has never seemed good to me."
"Be the land and my little child, too, commended to thy care; serve well the ladies, that is my wish. Comfort any thou dost see in tears. Certes King Etzel's bride will never do us harm."
"Take care of the land and my little child; serve the ladies well, that’s what I want. Comfort anyone you see in tears. Surely, King Etzel's bride will never harm us."
The steeds were now ready for the kings and their men. Many a one who lived there high of spirit, parted thence with loving kisses. This many a stately dame must later needs bewail. When the doughty knights were seen go toward the steeds, men spied full many ladies standing sadly there. Their hearts did tell them that this long parting boded them great harm. This doth never ease the heart.
The horses were now ready for the kings and their men. Many who lived there, filled with spirit, left with loving kisses. Many a proud lady would later mourn this parting. As the brave knights walked toward the horses, many ladies were seen standing there sadly. Their hearts told them that this long goodbye would bring them great sorrow. This never eases the heart.
The doughty Burgundians started on their way. Then in the land a mighty turmoil rose; on either side of the mountains there wept both men and wives. But however the folk might bear them, the knights jogged merrily along. With them rode the men of Nibelung, a thousand hauberks strong, who had left many comely dames at home whom they never saw again. Siegfried's wounds gave Kriemhild pain.
The brave Burgundians set off on their journey. Then a huge uproar erupted in the land; men and women cried on both sides of the mountains. But no matter how the people felt, the knights rode cheerfully along. With them were the men of Nibelung, a thousand strong in armor, who had left many beautiful ladies at home whom they would never see again. Siegfried's wounds caused Kriemhild pain.
Gunther's liegemen now wended their way towards the river Main, up through Eastern Frankland. (2) Thither Hagen led them, for well he wot the way. Dankwart was their marshal, the hero from Burgundian land. As they rode away from the Eastern Frankland towards Swanfield, (3) men could tell the princes and their kin, the worshipful knights, by their lordly bearing. On the twelfth morning the king came to the Danube. Hagen of Troneg rode foremost of them all, giving to the Nibelungs helpful cheer. On the sandy shore the bold knight dismounted and bound his steed full soon to a tree. The river was swollen, the skiffs hidden away. Great fear the Nibelungs had, as to how they might come across, for the stream was much too broad. Full many a lusty knight alighted on the ground.
Gunther's knights now made their way toward the river Main, through Eastern Frankland. (2) Hagen led them, as he knew the route well. Dankwart was their commander, the hero from Burgundian territory. As they rode away from Eastern Frankland toward Swanfield, (3) it was easy to recognize the princes and their kin, the noble knights, by their proud demeanor. On the twelfth morning, the king reached the Danube. Hagen of Troneg rode ahead of them all, encouraging the Nibelungs. On the sandy shore, the brave knight dismounted quickly and tied his horse to a tree. The river was swollen, and the boats were hidden away. The Nibelungs were very worried about how they would cross, as the current was far too wide. Many a strong knight got off his horse.
"Ill may it lightly hap with thee here," quoth Hagen, "O ruler of the Rhine. Now mayst thou thyself see the river is swollen, its flood is mighty. Certes, I ween, we shall lose here many a worthy knight to-day."
"Things might not end well for you here," said Hagen, "O ruler of the Rhine. Now you can see for yourself that the river is swollen and its current is strong. I believe we’re going to lose many brave knights today."
"Why dost thou rebuke me, Hagen?" spake the lordly king. "For thine own prowess' sake discomfit me no more, but seek us the ford across to the other bank, that we may take hence both steeds and trappings."
"Why are you criticizing me, Hagen?" said the proud king. "For your own skill, don’t defeat me anymore, but help us find the crossing to the other side so we can take both the horses and the gear."
"Forsooth," quoth Hagen, "I be not so weary of life, that I would drown me in these broad waves. Sooner shall men die by my hands in Etzel's lands. That will I well. Stay by the water's side, ye proud knights and good, and I will seek the ferryman myself along the stream, who shall ferry us across to Gelfrat's (4) land."
"For sure," said Hagen, "I'm not so tired of life that I would drown myself in these wide waves. Men will die by my hands in Etzel's lands. I will make it happen. Stay by the water's edge, you proud and good knights, and I will find the ferryman myself along the stream, who will take us across to Gelfrat's (4) land."
Then the stalwart Hagen seized his good shield. Well was he armed. The shield he bare along, his helmet bound upon his head, bright enow it was. Above his breastplate he bare a sword so broad that most fiercely it cut on either edge. To and fro he sought the ferryman. He heard the splash of water and began to listen. In a fair spring wise women (5) were bathing for to cool them off. Now Hagen spied them and crept toward them stealthily. When they grew ware of this, they hurried fast to escape him; glad enow they were of this. The hero took their clothes, but did them naught else of harm.
Then the strong Hagen grabbed his sturdy shield. He was well-equipped. He carried the shield with him, his helmet securely on his head, shining brightly. Above his armor, he held a sword so wide that it could cut fiercely on both sides. He searched back and forth for the ferryman. He heard the sound of water and started to listen. In a beautiful spring, women were bathing to cool off. Hagen noticed them and crept toward them quietly. When they became aware of him, they hurriedly tried to escape; they were quite happy to do so. The hero took their clothes but did nothing else to harm them.
Then spake one of the mermaids (Hadburg she was called): "Sir Knight Hagen, we'll do you here to wit, an' ye give us our weeds again, bold knight, how ye will fare upon this journey to the Hunnish court."
Then spoke one of the mermaids (her name was Hadburg): "Sir Knight Hagen, we want you to know that if you give us our treasures back, brave knight, we will tell you how you will do on your journey to the Hunnish court."
Like birds they floated before him on the flood. Therefore him-thought their senses strong and good; he believed the more what they would tell him. Well they answered what he craved of them. Hadburg spake again: "Ye may safely ride to Etzel's land. I'll stake my troth at once as pledge, that heroes never rode better to any realm for such great honors. Now believe that in truth."
Like birds, they glided before him on the water. Because of this, he thought their senses were sharp and reliable; he believed them even more. They answered everything he wanted to know. Hadburg spoke again: "You can confidently travel to Etzel's land. I'll give my word right now as a guarantee that no heroes have ever traveled better to any kingdom for such great honors. Now truly believe this."
In his heart Hagen was joyous at this rede. He gave them back their clothes and no longer tarried. As they donned their strange attire, they told him rightly of the journey to Etzel's land. The other mermaid spake (Siegelind she hight): "I will warn thee, Hagen, son of Aldrian. (6) For the sake of her weeds mine aunt hath lied to thee. An' thou comest to the Huns, thou wilt be sore deceived. Time is, that thou shouldst turn again, for ye heroes be bidden, that ye may die in Etzel's land. Whose rideth hither, hath taken death by the hand."
In his heart, Hagen felt joy at this news. He returned their clothes and didn’t hesitate any longer. As they put on their unusual outfits, they accurately informed him about the journey to Etzel's land. The other mermaid spoke (her name was Siegelind): "I need to warn you, Hagen, son of Aldrian. For the sake of her garments, my aunt has deceived you. If you go to the Huns, you will be gravely misled. It's time for you to turn back, because you heroes are being summoned to die in Etzel's land. Whoever comes here has taken death by the hand."
Answered Hagen: "Ye deceive us needlessly. How might it come to pass that we should all die there, through anybody's hate?"
Answered Hagen: "You're misleading us for no reason. How could it happen that we all die there because of someone else's hatred?"
Then gan they tell him the tale still more knowingly. The same one spake again: "It must needs be that none of you shall live, save the king's chaplain; this we know full well. He will come again safe and sound to Gunther's land."
Then they started telling him the story even more confidently. The same one spoke again: "It has to be that none of you will survive, except for the king's chaplain; we know this for sure. He will return safe and sound to Gunther's land."
Then spake bold Hagen, fierce of mood: "It were not well to tell my lords that we should all lose our lives among the Huns. Now show us over the stream, thou wisest of all wives."
Then spoke bold Hagen, fierce in spirit: "It wouldn't be right to tell my lords that we should all lose our lives among the Huns. Now show us across the river, you wisest of all women."
She answered: "Sith ye will not turn you from the journey, up yonder where an inn doth stand, by the waterside, there is a ferryman and elsewhere none."
She replied, "If you won't change your plans, up ahead by the water, there's an inn with a ferryman and no one else around."
At once he ceased to ask for further tidings. After the angry warrior she called: "Pray bide a time, Sir Hagen! Forsooth ye are too much in haste. List further to the tale of how ye may cross to the other bank. The lord of these marches beareth the name of Else. (7) His brother is hight Knight Gelfrat, a lord in the Bavarian land. 'Twill go hard with you, an' ye will cross his land. Ye must guard you well and deal full wisely with the ferryman. So grim of mood is he that he'll not let you live, unless be that ye have your wits about you with the knight. An' ye will that he guide you, then give him his meed. He guardeth this land and is liegeman unto Gelfrat. And cometh he not betimes, so call across the flood and say, ye hight Amelrich. (8) He was a doughty here that; because of a feud did void this land. The ferryman will come when he heareth this name."
He immediately stopped asking for more news. After the angry warrior, she called out, "Please wait a moment, Sir Hagen! You're moving too quickly. Listen to the rest of the story about how you can cross to the other side. The lord of these lands is named Else. His brother is called Knight Gelfrat, a lord in Bavaria. It's going to be tough for you if you try to pass through his territory. You need to be careful and handle the ferryman wisely. He’s in such a bad mood that he won't let you cross unless you’re sharp with the knight. If you want him to guide you, then give him what he deserves. He protects this land and is a vassal to Gelfrat. If he doesn't come quickly, call across the river and say your name is Amelrich. He was a brave man who left this land because of a feud. The ferryman will come when he hears that name."
Haughty Hagen bowed then to the dames; he spake no more, but held his peace. Then by the river he hied him higher up upon the sandy shore, to where he found an inn upon the other bank. Loudly he began to call across the flood: "Now come and fetch me, ferryman," quoth the good knight, "and I will give thee as meed an arm ring of ruddy gold. Know, that of this passage I have great need in truth."
Haughty Hagen then bowed to the ladies; he said nothing more, but stayed silent. Then he made his way along the river, up onto the sandy shore, to where he found an inn on the other side. He started to shout across the water: "Now come and get me, ferryman," said the good knight, "and I'll give you a reward of a gold arm ring. Know that I truly have a great need for this crossing."
So noble was the ferryman that it behooved him not to serve, therefore he full seldom took wage of any wight. His squires, too, were full lofty of mood. All this time Hagen still stood alone, this side of the flood. He called with might and main, that all the water rang, for mickle and great was the hero's strength. "Now fetch me. I am Amelrich, Else's liegeman, that because of a great feud did void these lands."
So noble was the ferryman that it was beneath him to accept payment, so he rarely took a fee from anyone. His assistants were also quite proud. Meanwhile, Hagen stood alone on this side of the river. He called out loudly, making the water echo, for the hero was incredibly strong. "Now come and get me. I am Amelrich, Else's servant, who left these lands because of a serious feud."
High upon his spear (9) he offered him an arm band, bright and fair it was, of ruddy gold, that one should ferry him over to Gelfrat's land. The haughty ferryman, the which was newly wed himself, did take the oar in hand. As he would earn Hagen's gold so red, therefore he died the sword-grim death at the hands of the knight. The greed for great goods (10) doth give an evil end. Speedily the boatman rowed across to the sandy bank. When he found no trace of him whose name he heard, wroth he grew in earnest. When he spied Hagen, with fierce rage he spake to the hero: "Ye may perchance hight Amelrich, but ye are not like him whom I weened here. By father and by mother he was my brother. Sith ye have bewrayed me, ye may stay on this hither shore."
High on his spear, he offered him an armband, shiny and beautiful, made of red gold, so he could cross over to Gelfrat's land. The arrogant ferryman, who had just gotten married himself, took the oar in hand. Since he wanted to earn Hagen's bright gold, he faced a grim death by the knight's sword. The desire for great wealth leads to a bad end. Quickly, the boatman rowed across to the sandy bank. When he found no sign of the one he had heard about, he became truly angry. When he spotted Hagen, filled with rage, he spoke to the hero: "You may be called Amelrich, but you are not the one I expected here. By my father and mother, he was my brother. Now that you have betrayed me, you can stay on this shore."
"No, by the mighty God," spake then Hagen, "I am a stranger knight and have warriors in my care. Now take ye kindly my meed to-day and ferry me over. I am in truth your friend."
"No, by the mighty God," Hagen said, "I am a stranger knight and have warriors to protect. So please kindly accept my reward today and take me across. I truly am your friend."
The ferryman replied: "This may not be. My dear lords have foes, wherefore I never ferry strangers to this land. If ye love your life, step out quickly on the sand."
The ferryman replied: "This can’t be. My dear lords have enemies, so I never take strangers to this land. If you value your life, step off quickly onto the sand."
"Now do it not," spake Hagen; "sad is my mind. Take this good gold from me as a token of my love and ferry us across: a thousand horse and just as many men."
"Don't do it," Hagen said; "I'm feeling down. Take this gold from me as a sign of my love and help us cross: a thousand horses and just as many men."
The grim boatman answered: "'Twill ne'er be done." He raised a mighty rudder oar, mickle and broad, and struck at Hagen (full wroth he grew at this), so that he fell upon his knees in the boat. The lord of Troneg had never met so fierce a ferryman. Still more the boatman would vex the haughty stranger. He smote with an oar, so that it quite to-broke (11) over Hagen's head (a man of might was he); from this the ferryman of Else took great harm. Hagen, fierce of mood, seized straightway his sheath, wherein he found his sword. His head he struck off and cast it on the ground. Eftsoon these tidings were made known to the proud Burgundians. At the very moment that he slew the boatman, the skiff gan drifting down the stream. Enow that irked him. Weary he grew before he brought it back. King Gunther's liegeman pulled with might and main. With passing swift strokes the stranger turned it, until the sturdy oar snapped in his hand. He would hence to the knights out upon the shore. None other oar he had. Ho, how quickly he bound it with a shield strap, a narrow band! Towards a wood he floated down the stream, where he found his sovran standing by the shore.
The grim boatman replied, “It’ll never happen.” He lifted a huge, wide oar and swung it at Hagen, who was filled with rage at this, causing him to fall to his knees in the boat. The lord of Troneg had never encountered such a fierce ferryman before. The boatman intended to further provoke the arrogant stranger. He struck with an oar, which broke over Hagen’s head (he was a strong man); the ferryman of Else took considerable damage from this. Hagen, angered, immediately grabbed his sheath and retrieved his sword. He swiftly decapitated the boatman and threw his head to the ground. Soon, the proud Burgundians heard the news. Just as he killed the boatman, the skiff began drifting downstream. That frustrated him. He grew tired before he managed to bring it back. King Gunther's vassal rowed with all his strength. With fast strokes, the stranger turned it around until the sturdy oar snapped in his hand. He wanted to get back to the knights on the shore. He had no other oar. Oh, how quickly he used a shield strap, a narrow band, to bind it! He floated down the stream toward a woods where he found his lord standing by the shore.
Many a stately man went down to meet him. The doughty knights and good received him with a kindly greeting. When they beheld in the skiff the blood reeking from a gaping wound which he had dealt the ferryman, Hagen was plied enow with questions by the knights. When that King Gunther spied the hot blood swirling in the skiff, how quickly he spake: "Wherefore tell ye me not, Hagen, whither the ferryman be come? I ween your prowess hath bereft him of his life."
Many dignified men went down to meet him. The brave knights greeted him warmly. When they saw the blood streaming from a gaping wound he had given the ferryman in the boat, Hagen was bombarded with questions by the knights. When King Gunther noticed the blood swirling in the boat, he quickly said, "Why don’t you tell me, Hagen, where the ferryman has gone? I assume your skills have cost him his life."
At this he answered craftily: "When I found the skiff hard by a willow tree, I loosed it with my hand. I have seen no ferryman here to-day, nor hath harm happed to any one through fault of mine."
At this, he replied cunningly: "When I discovered the small boat near a willow tree, I untied it by hand. I haven't seen any ferryman around today, nor has anyone been harmed due to my actions."
Then spake Sir Gernot of Burgundy: "I must needs fear the death of dear friends to-day. Sith we have no boatmen here at hand, how shall we come over? Therefore I must perforce stand sad."
Then spoke Sir Gernot of Burgundy: "I must really fear for the lives of my dear friends today. Since we have no boatmen available, how will we get across? So, I must unfortunately feel sad."
Loudly then called Hagen: "Ye footmen, lay the trappings down upon the grass. I bethink me that once I was the very best of boatmen that one might find along the Rhine. I trow to bring you all safe across to Gelfrat's land."
Loudly then called Hagen: "You footmen, put the gear down on the grass. I remember that I used to be the best boatman you could find along the Rhine. I'm planning to get you all safely across to Gelfrat's land."
They struck the horses, that these might the sooner come across the flood; passing well they swam, for the mighty waves bereft them of not a one. Some few drifted far adown the stream, as did befit their weariness. Then the knights bare to the skiff their gold and weeds, sith there was no help for the crossing. Hagen played the steersman, and so he ferried full many mighty warriors over to the sandy shore, into the unknown land. First he took across a thousand noble knights, then his own men-at-arms. Still there were more to come. Nine thousand footmen he ferried over to the land. Aught but idle was Hagen's hand that day. When he had carried them all safe across the flood, the doughty knight and good bethought him of the strange tales which the wild mermaids had told him afore. For this cause the king's chaplain near lost his life. He found the priest close by the chapel luggage, leaning with his hand upon the relics. Little might that boot him. When Hagen spied him, ill fared it with the hapless priest; he threw him from the skiff in haste. Enow of them called out: "Hold on, Sir Hagen, hold!"
They urged the horses to move faster across the river; they swam well, and the strong waves didn’t cause any of them to drown. A few got swept downstream, as was expected given their exhaustion. Then the knights carried their gold and gear to the boat since there was no other way to cross. Hagen took charge of steering, ferrying many brave warriors to the sandy shore of the unknown land. He first took a thousand noble knights across, then his own soldiers. There were still more to come. He transported nine thousand foot soldiers to the land. Hagen’s hands were far from idle that day. Once he had safely brought them all across, the valiant knight remembered the strange stories the wild mermaids had shared with him before. Because of this, the king’s chaplain nearly lost his life. He found the priest by the chapel baggage, leaning on the relics. That wouldn't help him much. When Hagen saw him, things didn’t go well for the unfortunate priest; he quickly tossed him out of the boat. Many called out, "Hold on, Sir Hagen, hold!"
Giselher, the youth, gan rage, but Hagen let none come between. Then spake Sir Gernot of Burgundy: "What availeth you now, Hagen, the chaplain's death? Had another done the deed, 'twould have irked you sore. For what cause have ye sworn enmity to the priest?"
Giselher, the young man, got angry, but Hagen didn't let anyone interfere. Then Sir Gernot of Burgundy said, "What good is the chaplain's death to you now, Hagen? If someone else had done it, it would have really bothered you. Why have you sworn to be enemies with the priest?"
The clerk (12) now tried to swim with might and main, for he would fain save his life, if perchance any there would help him. That might not be, for the stalwart Hagen was wroth of mood. He thrust him to the bottom, the which thought no one good. When the poor priest saw naught of help, he turned him back again. Sore was he discomfited, but though he could not swim, yet did God's hand help him, so that he came safe and sound to the land again. There the poor clerk stood and shook his robe. Hagen marked thereby that naught might avail against the tidings which the wild mermaids told him. Him-thought: "These knights must lose their lives."
The clerk (12) tried desperately to swim for his life, hoping someone would help him. But that wasn’t going to happen, as the strong Hagen was in a bad mood. He pushed him down to the bottom, which seemed wrong to everyone. When the poor priest saw there was no help coming, he turned around. He was deeply disheartened, but even though he couldn’t swim, God’s hand guided him so he made it safely back to shore. There, the poor clerk stood, shaking out his robe. Hagen noticed that nothing could change the news the wild mermaids were telling him. He thought, “These knights are doomed.”
When the liegemen of the three kings unloaded the skiff and had borne all away which they had upon it, Hagen brake it to pieces and threw it in the flood, at which the bold knights and good did marvel much.
When the vassals of the three kings unloaded the small boat and took away everything they had on it, Hagen smashed it to pieces and tossed it into the river, which astonished the brave knights considerably.
"Wherefore do ye that, brother," quoth Dankwart, "how shall we come over, when we ride homeward from the Huns, back to the Rhine?"
"Why are you doing that, brother," said Dankwart, "how are we supposed to get back home to the Rhine after we ride back from the Huns?"
Later Hagen told him that might not be. The hero of Troneg spake: "I do it in the hope that if we have a coward on this journey, who through faint-heartedness would run away, that in this stream he may die a shameful death."
Later, Hagen told him that might not be the case. The hero of Troneg said: "I do this hoping that if there's a coward on this journey, who out of fear would run away, they might meet a shameful end in this stream."
They had with them from Burgundy land a hero of his hands, the which was named Folker. Wisely he spake all his mind. Whatever Hagen did, it thought the fiddler good. Their steeds were now ready, the sumpters laden well. On the journey they had taken no harm that irked them, save the king's chaplain alone. He must needs wander back on foot to the Rhine again.
They brought with them from Burgundy a skilled hero named Folker. He spoke his mind wisely. Whatever Hagen did, the fiddler approved. Their horses were ready, and the pack animals were well loaded. On their journey, they faced no harm that bothered them, except for the king's chaplain. He had to walk back to the Rhine alone.
ENDNOTES: (1) "a thousand and sixty". This does not agree with the account in Adventure XXIV, where we read of a thousand of Hagen's men, eighty of Dankwart's, and thirty of Folker's. The nine thousand foot soldiers mentioned here are a later interpolation, as the "Thidreksaga" speaks of only a thousand all told. (2) "Eastern Frankland", or East Franconia, is the ancient province of "Franconia Orientalis", the region to the east of the Spessart forest, including the towns of Fulda, Würzburg and Barnberg. In Biterolf Dietlieb journeys through Eastern Frankland to the Danube. (3) "Swanfield" (M.H.G. "Swanevelde") is the ancient province of "Sualafeld" between the Rezat and the Danube. (4) "Gelfrat" is a Bavarian lord and the brother of "Else", mentioned below. Their father's name was also Else. (5) "Wise women", a generic name for all supernatural women of German mythology. While it is not specifically mentioned, it is probable that the wise women, or mermaids, as they are also called here, were 'swan maidens', which play an important role in many legends and are endowed with the gift of prophecy. They appear in the form of swans, and the strange attire of the wise women mentioned here refers to the so-called swan clothes which they wore and which enabled Hagen to recognize them as supernatural beings. On bathing they lay aside this garment, and he who obtains possession of it has them in his power. This explains their eagerness to give Hagen information, if he will return their garments to them. For an account of them see Grimm's "Mythologie", 355. (6) "Aldrian" is not an historical personage; the name is merely a derivative of "aldiro", 'the elder', and signifies 'ancestor', just as Uta means 'ancestress'. In the "Thidreksaga" Aldrian is the king of the Nibelung land and the father of Gunther, Giselher, and Gernot, whereas Hagen is the son of an elf by the same mother. (7) Else appears also in "Biterolf"; in the "Thidreksaga" he is called "Elsung", the younger, as his father bore the same name. See Adventure XXV, note 4. (8) "Amelrich" is the ferryman's brother. (9) "Spear". It was the custom to offer presents on a spear point, perhaps to prevent the recipient from treacherously using his sword. Compare the similar description in the "Hildebrandslied", 37, where we are told that gifts should be received with the spear. (10) "Goods". In the "Thidreksaga" the ferryman desires the ring for his young wife, which explains better the allusion to marriage and the desire for wealth. (11) "To-broke", see Adventure II, note 9. (12) "Clerk", 'priest'.
ENDNOTES: (1) "a thousand and sixty". This doesn't match the account in Adventure XXIV, where it mentions a thousand of Hagen's men, eighty of Dankwart's, and thirty of Folker's. The nine thousand foot soldiers mentioned here is a later addition, as the "Thidreksaga" only refers to a thousand in total. (2) "Eastern Frankland", or East Franconia, is the old province of "Franconia Orientalis", the area east of the Spessart forest, which includes the towns of Fulda, Würzburg, and Barnberg. In Biterolf, Dietlieb travels through Eastern Frankland to the Danube. (3) "Swanfield" (M.H.G. "Swanevelde") is the old province of "Sualafeld" located between the Rezat and the Danube. (4) "Gelfrat" is a Bavarian lord and the brother of "Else", mentioned below. Their father's name was also Else. (5) "Wise women" is a general term for all supernatural women in German mythology. Although not specifically stated, it's likely that the wise women, also referred to as mermaids here, were 'swan maidens', who play a significant role in many legends and have the gift of prophecy. They appear in the form of swans, and the unusual clothing of the wise women mentioned here refers to the so-called swan clothes they wore, which allowed Hagen to recognize them as supernatural beings. When they bathe, they take off this garment, and whoever possesses it has power over them. This explains their eagerness to provide Hagen with information if he will return their garments. For more information, see Grimm's "Mythologie", 355. (6) "Aldrian" is not a historical figure; the name simply derives from "aldiro", meaning 'the elder', and signifies 'ancestor', just as Uta means 'ancestress'. In the "Thidreksaga", Aldrian is the king of the Nibelung land and the father of Gunther, Giselher, and Gernot, while Hagen is the son of an elf by the same mother. (7) Else also appears in "Biterolf"; in the "Thidreksaga", he is referred to as "Elsung", the younger, as his father had the same name. See Adventure XXV, note 4. (8) "Amelrich" is the ferryman's brother. (9) "Spear". It was customary to offer gifts on a spear point, possibly to prevent the recipient from treacherously using his sword. Compare to the similar description in the "Hildebrandslied", 37, where it states that gifts should be accepted with the spear. (10) "Goods". In the "Thidreksaga", the ferryman wants the ring for his young wife, which better explains the reference to marriage and the desire for wealth. (11) "To-broke", see Adventure II, note 9. (12) "Clerk", 'priest'.
ADVENTURE XXVI (1) How Gelfrat Was Slain By Dankwart.
Now when all were come upon the shore, the king gan ask: "Who will show us the right roads through this land, that we go not astray?"
Now that everyone had arrived on the shore, the king asked, "Who will guide us along the right paths through this land so that we don't get lost?"
Then the sturdy Folker spake: "For this I alone will have a care."
Then the strong Folker said, "For this, I alone will take responsibility."
"Now hold," quoth Hagen, "both knight and squire. Certes, me-thinketh right that we should heed our friends. With full monstrous tales I'll make you acquaint: we shall never come again to the Burgundian land. Two mermaids told me early in the morning that we should not come back again. I will now counsel you what ye do: ye must arm you, ye heroes, for we have mighty foes. Ye must guard you well and ride in warlike guise. I thought to catch these mermaids in a lie. They swore that none of us would come home safe and sound, save the chaplain alone. Therefore would I fain have drowned him to-day."
"Now listen," Hagen said, "both knight and squire. I truly think we should pay attention to our friends. I'll tell you some truly terrifying stories: we will never return to the Burgundian land. Two mermaids told me this morning that we won’t make it back. Now I will advise you on what to do: you must arm yourselves, heroes, because we have powerful enemies. You need to stay alert and travel in battle-ready gear. I planned to catch these mermaids in a lie. They swore that none of us would come home safe except for the chaplain. That's why I wanted to drown him today."
These tidings flew from band to band and valiant heroes grew pale from woe, as they began to fear a grewsome death on this journey to Etzel's court. Forsooth they had great need. When they had crossed at Moering, (2) where Else's ferryman had lost his life, Hagen spake again: "Sith I have gained me foes upon the way, we shall surely be encountered. I slew this same ferryman early on the morn to-day. Well they wot the tale. Now lay on boldly, so that it may go hard with Gelfrat and Else, should they match our fellowship here to-day. I know them to be so bold that 'twill not be left undone. Let the steeds jog on more gently, that none ween we be a-fleeing on the road."
These news spread quickly from group to group, and brave heroes turned pale with fear as they began to worry about a terrible death on their journey to Etzel's court. They were in dire need. After crossing at Moering, where Else's ferryman had lost his life, Hagen spoke again: "Since I’ve made enemies along the way, we will definitely face someone. I killed that same ferryman early this morning. They know the story well. Now let's go boldly, so that it may go poorly for Gelfrat and Else if they encounter our group today. I know they are courageous enough not to back down. Let the horses move at a more relaxed pace, so no one thinks we're running away on the road."
"This counsel I will gladly follow," quoth Giselher, the knight; "but who shall guide the fellowship across the land?"
"This advice I’ll happily follow," said Giselher, the knight; "but who will lead the group across the land?"
They answered: "This let Folker do; the valiant minstrel knoweth both road and path."
They replied, "Let Folker do this; the brave minstrel knows both the road and the path."
Ere the wish was fully spoken, men saw the doughty fiddler standing there well armed. On his head he bound his helmet, of lordly color was his fighting gear. On his spear shaft he tied a token, the which was red. Later with the kings he fell into direst need.
Before the wish was fully spoken, the brave fiddler was seen standing there well armed. He wore a helmet on his head, and his fighting gear was of noble color. He tied a red token to his spear shaft. Later, he found himself in great need with the kings.
Trustworthy tidings of the ferryman's death were now come to Gelfrat's ears. The mighty Else had also heard the tale. Loth it was to both; they sent to fetch their heroes, who soon stood ready. In a passing short time, as I'll let you hear, one saw riding towards them those who had wrought scathe and monstrous wounds in mighty battles. Full seven hundred or more were come to Gelfrat. When they began to ride after their savage foes, their lords did lead them, of a truth. A deal too strong they hasted after the valiant strangers; they would avenge their wrath. Therefore many of the lordings' friends were later lost.
Trustworthy news of the ferryman's death had now reached Gelfrat. The powerful Else had also heard the story. It was a difficult situation for both; they called for their heroes, who soon stood ready. In a short time, as you will hear, they saw riding towards them those who had caused great harm and monstrous wounds in fierce battles. More than seven hundred came to Gelfrat. When they began to ride after their fierce enemies, their lords truly led them. They rushed after the brave strangers a bit too eagerly; they were determined to get their revenge. As a result, many of the lords' friends were later lost.
Hagen of Troneg had well planned it (how might a hero ever guard his kinsmen better), that he had in charge the rear guard, with his liegemen and his brother Dankwart. This was wisely done.
Hagen of Troneg had it all figured out (how could a hero ever protect his relatives better?), that he was in charge of the rear guard, with his loyal followers and his brother Dankwart. This was a smart move.
The day had passed away; the night was come. For his friends he feared both harm and woe, as beneath their shields they rode through the Bavarian land. A short time thereafter the heroes were assailed. On either side of the highway and in the rear hard by they heard the beat of hoofs. Their foes pressed on too hard. Then spake hold Dankwart: "They purpose to attack us here, so hind on your helmets, for that be well to do."
The day had ended; night had fallen. He worried for his friends, fearing both danger and misery, as they rode through Bavaria under their shields. Shortly after, the heroes were attacked. On either side of the road and behind them, they heard the sound of hooves. Their enemies were pressing in too hard. Then Dankwart spoke up: "They plan to ambush us here, so strap on your helmets, it's the smart thing to do."
They stayed their journey, as though it must needs he; in the gloom they spied the gleam of shining shields. Hagen would no longer keep his peace; he called: "Who chaseth us upon the highway?"
They stopped their journey, as if they had to; in the darkness, they saw the glint of shiny shields. Hagen couldn't stay quiet anymore; he shouted, "Who’s chasing us on the road?"
To this Gelfrat must needs give answer. Quoth the margrave of Bavaria: "We seek our foes and have galloped on behind you. I know not who slew my ferryman to-day, but it doth rue me enow, for he was a hero of his hands."
To this, Gelfrat had to respond. The margrave of Bavaria said: "We're looking for our enemies and have ridden hard behind you. I don’t know who killed my ferryman today, but it troubles me greatly, for he was a true hero."
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "And was then the ferryman thine? The fault was mine, he would not ferry us over, so I slew the knight. Forsooth I had great need, for I had sheer gained at his hands my death. As meed I offered him gold and trappings, that he ferry me across to thy land, Sir Knight. This angered him so greatly that he smote me with a mighty oar. At this I waxed grim enow. I seized my sword and fended him his anger with a grievous wound. Thus the hero met his death. I'll make amends, as doth think thee best."
Then Hagen of Troneg spoke: "Was the ferryman yours then? The fault was mine; he refused to take us across, so I killed the knight. I truly had no choice, as he was about to cause my death. As a payment, I offered him gold and riches to ferry me across to your land, Sir Knight. This furious him so much that he struck me with a powerful oar. This made me very angry. I grabbed my sword and defended myself, wounding him badly. That's how the hero met his end. I'll make things right, as you think is best."
"Well I wist," spake Gelfrat, "when Gunther and his fellowship rode hither, that Hagen of Troneg would do us harm. Now he shall not live; the knight must stand for the ferryman's life."
"Well, I knew," said Gelfrat, "when Gunther and his group rode here, that Hagen of Troneg would cause us trouble. Now he won’t survive; the knight has to pay the price for the ferryman's life."
Over the bucklers Gelfrat and Hagen couched their spears for the thrust; each would charge the other. Else and Dankwart rode full gloriously; they tested who they were, fierce was the fight. How might heroes ever prove each other better? From a mighty thrust Hagen was unhorsed by Gelfrat's hand. His martingale snapped, he learnt what it was to fall. The crash of shafts resounded from their fellowship. Hagen, who from the thrust afore had come to earth, down on the grass, sprang up again. I trow, he was not gentle of mood towards Gelfrat then. Who held their steeds, I know not; both Hagen and Gelfrat had alighted on the sand and rushed together. Their fellowship helped thereby and became acquaint with strife. Albeit Hagen sprang at Gelfrat fiercely, the noble margrave smote from his shield a mickle piece, so that the sparks flew wide. Full nigh did Gunther's liegeman die therefrom. He began to call to Dankwart: "O help, dear brother! Certes, a hero of his hands hath matched me, he will not spare my life."
Over the shields, Gelfrat and Hagen lined up their spears for the charge; each was ready to rush at the other. Else and Dankwart rode majestically; they pushed each other to their limits, and the battle was fierce. How else could heroes truly prove who was better? With a powerful strike, Gelfrat unhorsed Hagen. His rein broke, and he experienced what it felt like to fall. The sound of splintering wood echoed from their group. Hagen, who had been knocked down, quickly jumped back up. I bet he wasn't feeling very friendly towards Gelfrat at that moment. I don't know who was holding their horses; both Hagen and Gelfrat had jumped down into the sand and charged at each other. Their companions rallied to support them and got caught up in the fight. Though Hagen attacked Gelfrat fiercely, the noble margrave struck a big chunk from his shield, sending sparks flying. Gunther's vassal came close to dying from that blow. He began to call out to Dankwart: "Oh help, dear brother! Indeed, a true warrior has matched me, and he won't spare my life."
At this hold Dankwart spake: "I'll play the umpire here."
At this spot, Dankwart said, "I'll be the referee here."
The hero then sprang nearer and with a sharp sword smote Gelfrat such a blow that he fell down dead. Else then would fain avenge the knight, but he and his fellowship parted from the fray with scathe. His brother had been slain, he himself was wounded; full eighty of his knights remained with grim death behind upon the field. Their lord must needs turn in flight from Gunther's men.
The hero then sprang closer and with a sharp sword struck Gelfrat such a blow that he fell down dead. Else then would have gladly avenged the knight, but he and his companions withdrew from the fight wounded. His brother had been killed, he himself was injured; a full eighty of his knights lay dead on the battlefield. Their lord had to turn and flee from Gunther’s men.
When those from the Bavarian land gave way and fled, one heard the savage blows resound behind them. Those of Troneg chased their foes; they were in passing haste, who had not weened to make amends. Then spake Dankwart, the knight, in their pursuit: "Let us turn soon on this road and let them ride, for they be wet with blood. Haste we to our friends, this I advise you of a truth."
When the people from Bavaria gave up and ran away, you could hear the brutal strikes echoing behind them. The men from Troneg chased their enemies; they were in a hurry and hadn’t thought to make peace. Then Dankwart, the knight, said as they chased: "Let's head down this road soon and let them go, as they’re soaked in blood. We should hurry to our friends; that’s my honest advice."
When they were come again, where the scathe had happed, Hagen of Troneg spake: "Heroes, prove now what doth fail us here, or whom we have lost in the strife through Gelfrat's wrath."
When they returned to the place where the damage had occurred, Hagen of Troneg said: "Heroes, let's find out what we’re missing here, or who we’ve lost in the conflict because of Gelfrat's fury."
Four they had lost whom they must needs bewail. But they had been paid for dearly; for them a hundred or better from the Bavarian land were slain. From their blood the shields of the men of Troneg were dimmed and wet. Through the clouds there partly broke the gleam of the shining moon, as Hagen spake again: "Let none make known to my dear lords what we have wrought here to-day. Let them rest without care until the morn."
Four they had lost whom they must mourn. But they had paid dearly for them; a hundred or more from the Bavarian land were killed. The blood of those men soaked the shields of the warriors of Troneg. The light of the shining moon broke through the clouds, as Hagen spoke again: "Let no one tell my dear lords what we’ve done here today. Let them rest peacefully until morning."
When those who just had fought were now come again, the fellowship was full weary from the way. "How long must we still ride?" asked many a man.
When those who had just fought returned, everyone in the group was really tired from the journey. "How much longer do we have to ride?" many asked.
Then spake the bold Dankwart: "We may not find lodgings here, ye must all ride until the day be come."
Then spoke the brave Dankwart: "We won't find a place to stay here, so you all have to ride until morning."
The doughty Folker, who had charge of the fellowship, bade ask the marshal: "Where may we find a place to-night, where our steeds may rest and our dear lords as well?"
The brave Folker, who was in charge of the group, asked the marshal: "Where can we find a place tonight where our horses can rest and our dear lords can too?"
Bold Dankwart answered: "I cannot tell you that, we may not rest till it begin to dawn. Wherever then we find a chance, we'll lay us down upon the grass."
Bold Dankwart replied, "I can't tell you that; we can't rest until it starts to get light. Whenever we get the chance, we'll lie down on the grass."
How loth it was to some when they heard this tale! They remained unmarked with their stains of warm red blood, until the sun shot his gleaming light against the morn across the hills. Then the king beheld that they had fought. Wrathfully the hero spake: "How now, friend Hagen? I ween, ye scorned to have me with you when your rings grew wet with blood? Who hath done this?"
How reluctant some were when they heard this story! They stayed unmarked with their stains of warm red blood until the sun cast its bright light over the hills in the morning. Then the king saw that they had fought. Angrily, the hero said: "What’s the matter, friend Hagen? I guess you didn’t want me with you when your rings got soaked in blood? Who did this?"
Quoth he: "This Else did, who encountered us by night. We were attacked because of his ferryman. Then my brother's hand smote Gelfrat down. Else soon escaped us, constrained thereto by mickle need. A hundred of them and but four of ours lay dead in the strife."
Quoth he: "This Else did, who met us at night. We were attacked because of his ferryman. Then my brother struck Gelfrat down. Else soon got away from us, forced to do so by great need. A hundred of them and only four of us lay dead in the fight."
We cannot tell you where they laid them down to rest. All of the folk of the land learned soon that the sons of the noble Uta rode to court. Later they were well received at Passau. The uncle of the noble king, the Bishop Pilgrim, was blithe of mood, as his nephews came to his land with so many knights. That he bare them good will, they learned full soon. Well were they greeted, too, by friends along the way, sith men could not lodge them all at Passau. They had to cross the stream to where they found a field on which they set up pavilions and costly tents. All one day they must needs stay there, and a full night too. What good cheer men gave them! After that they had to ride to Rudeger's land, to whom the tidings were brought full soon. When the way-worn warriors had rested them and came nearer to the Hunnish land, they found a man asleep upon the border, from whom Hagen of Troneg won a sturdy sword. The same good knight hight Eckewart (3) in truth; sad of mood he grew, that he lost his weapon through the journey of the knights. They found Rudeger's marches guarded ill.
We can’t tell you where they were laid to rest. Everyone in the land soon found out that the sons of the noble Uta rode to court. Later, they were warmly welcomed at Passau. The uncle of the noble king, Bishop Pilgrim, was in good spirits as his nephews arrived in his land with so many knights. They quickly realized he held them in high regard. They were also greeted warmly by friends along the way, since not everyone could accommodate them all in Passau. They had to cross the river to find a field where they set up pavilions and expensive tents. They had to stay there for a whole day and a full night. The hospitality they received was fantastic! After that, they had to ride to Rudeger's land, where the news arrived quickly. Once the weary warriors had rested and got closer to the Hunnish land, they found a man asleep on the border, from whom Hagen of Troneg took a sturdy sword. This same good knight's name was Eckewart; he grew sad that he lost his weapon due to the knights' journey. They found Rudeger's territory poorly guarded.
"Woe is me of this shame," spake Eckewart. "Certes this journey of the Burgundians rueth me full sore. My joy hath fled, sith I lost Knight Siegfried. Alas, Sir Rudeger, how I have acted toward thee!"
"Woe is me for this shame," said Eckewart. "This journey of the Burgundians truly pains me. My joy has vanished since I lost Knight Siegfried. Alas, Sir Rudeger, how I have treated you!"
When Hagen heard the noble warrior's plight, he gave him back his sword and six red arm bands. "These keep, Sir Knight, as a token that thou art my friend. A bold knight thou art, though thou standest alone upon the marches."
When Hagen heard about the noble warrior's situation, he returned his sword and six red armbands. "Keep these, Sir Knight, as a sign that you are my friend. You are a brave knight, even though you stand alone on the borders."
"God repay you for your arm bands," Eckewart replied. "Yet your journey to the Huns doth rue me sore. Because ye slew Siegfried, men hate you here. I counsel you in truth, that ye guard you well."
"May God reward you for your arm bands," Eckewart replied. "But I truly regret your journey to the Huns. Because you killed Siegfried, people here hate you. I honestly advise you to be careful."
"Now may God protect us," answered Hagen. "These knights, the kings and their liegemen, have forsooth no other care, save for their lodgement, where we may find quarters in this land to-night. Our steeds be spent by the distant way and our food run out," quoth Hagen, the knight. "We find naught anywhere for sale, and have need of a host, who through his courtesie would give us of his bread to-night."
"Now may God protect us," Hagen replied. "These knights, the kings and their followers, really have no other concern except for their accommodations, where we can find a place to stay tonight. Our horses are worn out from the journey, and we're out of food," said Hagen, the knight. "We can't find anything for sale anywhere, and we need a host who, out of generosity, would share his bread with us tonight."
Then Eckewart made answer: "I'll show you a host so good that full seldom have ye been lodged so well in any land, as here may hap you, an' ye will seek out Rudeger, ye doughty knights. He dwelleth by the highway and is the best host that ever owned a house. His heart giveth birth to courtesie, as the sweet May doth to grass and flowers. He is aye merry of mood, when he can serve good knights."
Then Eckewart replied, "I'll show you a host so great that you rarely get such good accommodations anywhere else as you will here, if you seek out Rudeger, the brave knights. He lives by the highway and is the best host who ever owned an inn. His heart is full of hospitality, just like the sweet May brings forth grass and flowers. He is always in a good mood when he can serve noble knights."
At this King Gunther spake: "Will ye be my messenger and ask whether my dear friend Rudeger will for my sake keep us, my kinsmen and our men? I will repay thee this, as best I ever can."
At this, King Gunther said: "Will you be my messenger and ask if my dear friend Rudeger will, for my sake, keep us, my relatives, and our men? I will repay you for this, as best as I can."
"Gladly will I be the messenger," Eckewart replied. With a right good will he gat him on the road and told Rudeger the message he had heard, to whom none such pleasing news had come in many a day.
"Sure, I'll be the messenger," Eckewart replied. With a great attitude, he set off on the road and relayed the message he had heard to Rudeger, who hadn’t received such good news in a long time.
At Bechelaren men saw a knight pricking fast. Rudeger himself descried him; he spake: "Upon the road yonder hasteth Eckewart, a liegeman of Kriemhild."
At Bechelaren, they saw a knight racing by. Rudeger himself spotted him and said, "Over there on the road, Eckewart is hurrying, a loyal servant of Kriemhild."
He weened the foes had done him scathe. Before the gate he went to meet the messenger, who ungirt his sword and laid it from his hand. The tales he brought were not hidden from the host and his friends, but were straightway told them. To the margrave he spake: "Gunther, the lord of the Burgundian land, and Giselher, his brother, and Gernot, too, have sent me hither to you. Each of the warriors tendered you his service. Hagen and Folker, too, eagerly did the same in truth. Still more I'll tell you, that the king's marshal sendeth you by me the message, that the good knights have passing need of your lodgement."
He thought the enemies had harmed him. He went to meet the messenger at the gate, who unsheathed his sword and set it aside. The stories he brought were known to the host and his friends, and he immediately shared them. He spoke to the margrave: "Gunther, the lord of the Burgundian land, Giselher, his brother, and Gernot, too, have sent me to you. Each of the warriors offers you his support. Hagen and Folker, as well, eagerly do the same. I'll tell you even more: the king's marshal sends you a message through me, saying that the good knights are in great need of your hospitality."
Rudeger answered with a smile: "Now well is me of these tales, that the high-born kings do reck of my service. It shall not be denied them. Merry and blithe will I be, an' they come unto my house."
Rudeger replied with a smile, "I'm glad to hear these stories that the noble kings appreciate my service. I won't deny them. I'll be cheerful and happy when they come to my home."
"Dankwart, the marshal, bade let you know whom ye should lodge in your house with them: sixty doughty champions, a thousand good knights, and nine thousand men-at-arms."
"Dankwart, the marshal, wanted you to know whom you should host in your house with them: sixty brave champions, a thousand skilled knights, and nine thousand soldiers."
Merry of mood grew Rudeger; he spake: "Now well is me of these guests, that these noble warriors be coming to my house, whom I have served as yet full seldom. Now ride ye forth for to meet them, my kinsmen and my men."
Merry in spirit grew Rudeger; he said: "I’m really glad about these guests, that these noble warriors are coming to my house, whom I have rarely served before. Now ride out to greet them, my family and my men."
Knights and squires now hied them to their horses; it thought them right, which their lord did bid. All the more they hasted with their service. As yet Lady Gotelind wist it not, who sate within her bower.
Knights and squires quickly went to their horses; they believed it was the right thing to do, as their lord commanded. They rushed even more with their duties. Meanwhile, Lady Gotelind was unaware, sitting inside her chamber.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Adventure XXVI". This adventure is a late interpolation, as it is not found in the "Thidreksaga". Originally the river must be thought of as separating them from Etzel's kingdom. (2) "Moering" (M.H.G. "Moeringen") lies between Pforing and Ingolstadt. In the "Thidreksaga" we are told that the mermaids were bathing in a body of water called "Moere", whereas in our poem they bathe in a spring. This may be the original form of the account and the form here contaminated. See Boer, i, 134. (3) "Eckewart", see Adventure I, note 15. It will be remembered that he accompanied Kriemhild first to the Netherlands, then stayed with her at Worms after Siegfried's death, and finally journeyed with her to Etzel's court. Originally he must be thought of as guarding the boundary of Etzel's land. Without doubt he originally warned the Burgundians, as in the early Norse versions, where Kriemhild fights on the side of her brothers, but since this duty was given to Dietrich, he has nothing to do but to announce their arrival to Rudeger. His sleeping here may, however, be thought to indicate that it was too late to warn Gunther and his men.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Adventure XXVI". This adventure is a later addition, as it isn't found in the "Thidreksaga". Originally, the river was seen as separating them from Etzel's kingdom. (2) "Moering" (M.H.G. "Moeringen") is located between Pforing and Ingolstadt. In the "Thidreksaga," we're told that the mermaids were bathing in a body of water called "Moere," while in our poem they bathe in a spring. This might be the original version of the story, with the current form being a variation. See Boer, i, 134. (3) "Eckewart," see Adventure I, note 15. Remember that he first accompanied Kriemhild to the Netherlands, then stayed with her at Worms after Siegfried's death, and finally traveled with her to Etzel's court. He was originally thought to be guarding the boundary of Etzel's land. He likely warned the Burgundians as in the earlier Norse versions, where Kriemhild fights alongside her brothers, but since this task was assigned to Dietrich, he only has to announce their arrival to Rudeger. His sleeping here might suggest that it was too late to warn Gunther and his men.
ADVENTURE XXVII. How They Came To Bechelaren.
Then the margrave went to where he found the ladies, his wife with his daughter, and told them straightway the pleasing tidings he had heard, that the brothers of their lady were coming thither to their house. "My dearest love," quoth Rudeger, "ye must receive full well the noble high-born kings, when they come here to court with their fellowship. Ye must give fair greeting, too, to Hagen, Gunther's man. With them there cometh one also, hight Dankwart; the other is named Folker, well beseen with courtesie. Ye and my daughter must kiss these and abide by the knights with gentle breeding." This the ladies vowed; quite ready they were to do it. From the chests they hunted out the lordly robes in which they would go to meet the warriors. Fair dames were passing busy on that day. Men saw but little of false colors on the ladies' cheeks; upon their heads they wore bright bands of gold. Rich chaplets (1) these were, that the winds might not dishevel their comely hair, and this is true i' faith.
Then the margrave went to where he found the ladies, his wife and daughter, and immediately shared the exciting news he had received: the brothers of their lady were coming to their home. "My dearest love," said Rudeger, "you must warmly welcome the noble high-born kings when they arrive with their company. You also need to greet Hagen, Gunther's man. Along with them comes one named Dankwart; the other is called Folker, well-known for his courtesy. You and my daughter should kiss them and treat the knights with kindness." The ladies promised to do so; they were eager to comply. They searched through their chests for the fine garments they would wear to meet the warriors. The beautiful ladies were quite busy that day. People saw little of any false color on the ladies’ cheeks; on their heads, they wore bright bands of gold. These were rich garlands to keep the winds from messing up their lovely hair, and that's the truth.
Let us now leave the ladies with these tasks. Much hasting over the plain was done by Rudeger's friends, to where one found the lordings, whom men then received well into the margrave's land. When the margrave, the doughty Rudeger, saw them coming toward him, how joyfully he spake: "Be ye welcome, fair sirs, and your liegemen, too. I be fain to see you in my land." Low obeisance the knights then made, in good faith, without all hate. That he bare them all good will, he showed full well. Hagen he gave a special greeting, for him had he known of yore. (2) To Folker from Burgundy land he did the same. Dankwart he welcomed, too. The bold knight spake: "Sith ye will purvey us knights, who shall have a care for our men-at-arms whom we have brought?"
Let’s leave the ladies with these tasks for now. Rudeger's friends hurried across the plain to where they found the lords, who were then welcomed into the margrave's territory. When the margrave, the brave Rudeger, saw them approaching, he spoke joyfully: "Welcome, gentlemen, and your vassals as well. I'm glad to have you in my land." The knights bowed respectfully, sincerely, without any animosity. He showed his good intentions clearly. He greeted Hagen especially, as he had known him for a long time. (2) He did the same for Folker from Burgundy. He welcomed Dankwart too. The bold knight said: "Since you will provide us with knights, who will take care of our men-at-arms that we brought?"
Quoth the margrave: "A good night shall ye have and all your fellowship. I'll purvey such guard for whatever ye have brought with you, of steeds and trappings, that naught shall be lost, that might bring you harm, not even a single spur. Ye footmen pitch the tents upon the plain. What ye lose I'll pay in full. Take off the bridles, let the horses run."
Quoth the margrave: "You all will have a good night, along with your group. I'll arrange for guards to look after everything you’ve brought with you, including the horses and gear, so nothing will be lost that could cause you harm, not even a single spur. You foot soldiers set up the tents on the plain. Anything you lose, I'll cover completely. Take off the bridles and let the horses run."
Seldom had host done this for them afore. Therefore the guests made merry. When that was done, the lordings rode away and the footmen laid them everywhere upon the grass. Good ease they had; I ween, they never fared so gently on the way. The noble margravine with her fair daughter was come out before the castle. One saw stand by her side the lovely ladies and many a comely maid. Great store of armlets and princely robes they wore. The precious stones gleamed afar from out their passing costly weeds. Fair indeed were they fashioned.
Seldom had a host done this for them before. So, the guests celebrated. When that was over, the lords rode off, and the footmen lay down anywhere on the grass. They were quite comfortable; I believe they had never traveled so easily before. The noble margravine and her beautiful daughter had come out in front of the castle. You could see lovely ladies standing by her side and many attractive maids. They wore plenty of armlets and royal robes. The precious stones sparkled from their expensive garments. They were indeed beautifully made.
Then came the guests and alighted there straightway. Ho, what great courtesie one found among the Burgundian men! Six and thirty maids and many other dames, whose persons were wrought as fair as heart could wish, went forth to meet them with many a valiant man. Fair greetings were given there by noble dames. The young margravine kissed all three kings, as did her mother, too. Close at hand stood Hagen. Her father bade her kiss him, but when she gazed upon him, he seemed so fearful that she had fain left it undone. Yet she must needs perform what the host now bade her do. Her color changed first pale then red. Dankwart, too, she kissed, and then the minstrel. For his great prowess was this greeting given. The young margravine took by the hand Knight Giselher of the Burgundian land. The same her mother did to Gunther, the valiant man. Full merrily they went hence with the heroes. The host walked at Gernot's side into a broad hall, where the knights and ladies sate them down. Soon they bade pour out for the guests good wine. Certes, heroes might never be better purveyed than they. Rudeger's daughter was gazed upon with loving glances, so fair she was. Forsooth many a good knight caressed her in his mind. And well did she deserve this, so high she was of mood. The knights thought what they would, but it might not come to pass. Back and forth shot the glances at maids and dames. Of them sate there enow. The noble fiddler bare the host good will.
Then the guests arrived and got down right away. Wow, what great hospitality one experienced among the Burgundian men! Thirty-six maidens and many other ladies, who were as beautiful as anyone could wish, went out to greet them along with many brave men. Noble ladies offered warm welcomes. The young margravine kissed all three kings, just like her mother did. Hagen stood nearby. Her father asked her to kiss him, but when she looked at him, he appeared so intimidating that she almost didn't want to. However, she had to follow what the host requested. Her complexion changed from pale to red. She also kissed Dankwart and then the minstrel, due to his great valor. The young margravine took Knight Giselher of the Burgundian land by the hand. Her mother did the same with the brave Gunther. They happily left with the heroes. The host walked beside Gernot into a large hall, where the knights and ladies sat down. Soon, they asked to serve good wine for the guests. Truly, heroes had never been better treated than they were. Rudeger's daughter was admired with loving looks, for she was very beautiful. Indeed, many a good knight thought lovingly of her. And she certainly deserved it, for she had such a noble spirit. The knights thought what they wanted, but nothing came of it. Glances were exchanged back and forth among the maidens and ladies. There were plenty of them sitting there. The noble fiddler bore good intentions for the host.
Then they parted after the custom, knights and ladies going to different sides. In the broad hall they set up the tables and served the strangers in lordly wise. For the sake of the guests the noble margravine went to table, but let her daughter stay with the maidens, where she sate by right. The guests saw naught of her, which irked them sore, in truth.
Then they separated as was customary, with knights and ladies heading to different sides. In the spacious hall, they arranged the tables and served the guests in a grand manner. To honor the guests, the noble margravine sat at the table, but allowed her daughter to remain with the maidens, where she belonged. The guests did not see her, which truly annoyed them.
When they had eaten and drunk on every side, men brought the fair again into the hall; nor were merry speeches left unsaid. Many such spake Folker, this brave and lusty knight. Before them all the noble minstrel spake: "Mighty margrave, God hath dealt full graciously with you, for he hath given you a passing comely wife and thereto a life of joy. An' I were a prince," quoth the minstrel, "and should wear a crown, I would fain have to wife your comely daughter. This my heart doth wish. She is lovely for to see, thereto noble and good."
When they had eaten and drank all around, the men brought the beautiful woman back into the hall; and everyone shared cheerful words. Many spoke, including Folker, the brave and lively knight. In front of everyone, the noble minstrel said: "Mighty margrave, God has been very gracious to you, for He has given you a very lovely wife and a life filled with joy. If I were a prince," said the minstrel, "and wore a crown, I would gladly take your beautiful daughter as my wife. That's what my heart desires. She is lovely to look at, as well as noble and good."
Then answered the margrave: "How might that be, that king should ever crave the dear daughter of mine? My wife and I are exiles; what booteth in such ease the maiden's passing comeliness?"
Then the margrave replied, "How could it be that a king would ever want my beloved daughter? My wife and I are exiles; what good does the girl's beauty do us in this situation?"
To this Gernot, the well-bred man, made answer: "An' I might have a love after mine own desire, I should be ever glad of such a wife."
To this, Gernot, the gentleman, replied: "If I could have a love of my own choosing, I would always be happy with such a wife."
Hagen, too, replied in full kindly wise: "My lord Giselher must take a wife. The margravine is of such high kin that I and all his liegemen would gladly serve her, should she wear a crown in Burgundy land."
Hagen also replied in a completely friendly manner: "My lord Giselher needs to find a wife. The margravine comes from such a noble family that I and all his loyal followers would be happy to serve her if she becomes a queen in Burgundy."
This speech thought Rudeger passing good, and Gotelind too, indeed it joyed their mood. Then the heroes brought to pass that the noble Giselher took her to wife, as did well befit a king. Who may part what shall be joined together? Men prayed the margravine to go to court, and swore to give him the winsome maid. He, too, vowed to wed the lovely fair. For the maiden they set castles and land aside, and this the hand of the noble king did pledge with an oath, and Lord Gernot, too, that this should hap.
This speech made Rudeger feel good, and Gotelind too, as it lifted their spirits. Then the heroes made sure that the noble Giselher took her as his wife, which was fitting for a king. Who can separate what should be united? The men asked the margravine to come to court and swore to give him the beautiful maiden. He also promised to marry the lovely lady. For her, they set aside castles and land, and the noble king pledged this with an oath, as did Lord Gernot, that it would happen.
Then spake the margrave: "Sith I have naught of castles, I will ever serve you with my troth. As much silver and gold will I give my daughter, as an hundred sumpters may barely carry, that it may please the hero's kin in honor."
Then the margrave said, "Since I have no castles, I will always serve you with my loyalty. I'll give my daughter as much silver and gold as a hundred pack animals can barely carry, so it may please the hero's family in honor."
After the custom men bade them stand in a ring. Over against her many a youth stood, blithe of mood. In their minds they harbored thoughts, as young folk still are wont to do. Men then gan ask the winsome maid whether she would have the knight or no. Loth in part she was, and yet she thought to take the stately man. She shamed her of the question, as many another maid hath done. Her father Rudeger counseled her to answer yes, and gladly take him. In a trice young Giselher was at her side, and clasped her in his white hands, albeit but little time she might enjoy him.
After the guys told them to form a circle, a lot of cheerful young men stood across from her. They were all thinking the same things that young people often do. The men then asked the lovely girl if she would accept the knight or not. She hesitated a bit, but she was also considering taking the handsome man. She felt embarrassed by the question, just like many other girls have before. Her father, Rudeger, advised her to say yes and happily accept him. In no time, young Giselher was by her side, holding her in his white hands, even though she wouldn’t have him for long.
Then Spake the margrave: "Ye noble and mighty kings, when ye now ride again (that is the custom) home to Burgundy, I will give you my child, that ye may take her with you."
Then spoke the margrave: "You noble and mighty kings, as you ride back home to Burgundy, I will give you my child, so you can take her with you."
This then they vowed. Now men must needs give over all the noisy joy. They bade the maiden hie her to her bower, and bade the guests to sleep and rest them against the day. Meanwhile men made ready the food; the host purveyed them well.
This is what they promised. Now everyone had to stop all the loud celebrations. They told the young woman to go to her room and asked the guests to sleep and prepare for the next day. Meanwhile, the men got the food ready; the host took good care of them.
When now they had eaten, they would ride hence to the Hunnish lands. "I'll guard against that well," spake the noble host. "Ye must tarry still, for full seldom have I gained such welcome guests."
When they had finished eating, they would ride off to the Hunnish lands. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen," said the noble host. "You must stay a bit longer, for I rarely have such welcomed guests."
To this Dankwart replied: "Forsooth this may not be. Where would ye find the food, the bread and wine, that ye must have for so many warriors another night?"
To this Dankwart replied: "Surely this can't be. Where would you find the food, the bread and wine, that you need for so many warriors another night?"
When the host heard this, he spake: "Give o'er this speech. My dear lords, ye must not say me nay. Forsooth I'd give you vittaile for a fortnight, with all your fellowship that is come hither with you. King Etzel hath taken from me as yet full little of my goods."
When the host heard this, he said: "Stop this talk. My dear lords, you must not refuse me. I swear I would provide you food for two weeks, along with all your companions who have come here with you. King Etzel has taken very little of my possessions so far."
However much they demurred, still they must needs tarry there until the fourth morning, when such deeds were done by the bounty of the host that it was told after. He gave his guests both mounts and robes. No longer might they stay, they must fare forth. Through his bounty bold Rudeger wot how to save but little. Naught was denied that any craved, it could not but please them all. Their noble meiny now brought saddled before the gate the many steeds, and to them came forth thee stranger knights. In their hands they bare their shields, for they would ride to Etzel's land. Before the noble guests come forth from the hall, the host had proffered everywhere his gifts. He wist how to live bountifully, in mickle honors. To Giselher he had given his comely daughter; to Gunther, the worshipful knight, who seldom took a gift, he gave a coat of mail, which the noble and mighty king wore well with honor. Gunther bowed low over noble Rudeger's hand. Then to Gernot he gave a weapon good enow, the which he later bare full gloriously in strife. Little did the margrave's wife begrudge him the gift, but through it good Rudeger was forced to lose his life. Gotelind offered Hagen a loving gift, as well befit her. He took it, sith the king had taken one, that he should not fare forth from her to the feasting, without her present. Later he gainsayed it. "Of all that I have ever seen," quoth Hagen, "I crave to bear naught else save that shield on yonder wall; fain would I take that with me into Etzel's land."
No matter how much they hesitated, they had to stay there until the fourth morning, when the host's generosity led to events that would be talked about later. He provided his guests with both horses and robes. They could no longer remain; it was time to leave. Through his bold generosity, Rudeger knew how to save very little. Nothing was denied to anyone who asked, and it pleased them all. Their noble entourage brought many saddled horses before the gate, and the strange knights came forth. They carried their shields, ready to ride to Etzel's land. Before the noble guests left the hall, the host offered his gifts everywhere. He knew how to live generously, with great honor. He had given Giselher his beautiful daughter; to Gunther, the esteemed knight who rarely accepted gifts, he gave a coat of mail, which the noble and powerful king wore proudly. Gunther bowed deeply over noble Rudeger's hand. Then to Gernot he gave an excellent weapon, which he later carried gloriously in battle. The margrave's wife didn’t begrudge the gift, but it ultimately forced good Rudeger to lose his life. Gotelind offered Hagen a heartfelt gift, as was suitable for her. He accepted it since the king had taken one, so he wouldn’t leave her at the feast without her present. Later, he had second thoughts. "Of all that I have ever seen," Hagen said, "I want to take nothing else except that shield on the wall; I would love to bring that with me to Etzel's land."
When the margravine heard Hagen's speech, it minded her of her grief—tears became her well. She thought full dearly on Nudung's (3) death, whom Wittich had slain; from this she felt the stress of sorrow. To the knight she spake: "I'll give you the shield. Would to God in heaven, that he still lived who bare it once in hand. He met his death in battle; for him must I ever weep, which giveth me, poor wife, dire woe."
When the margravine heard Hagen's speech, it reminded her of her grief—tears flowed freely. She thought long and hard about Nudung's death, which Wittich had caused; this brought her great sorrow. She said to the knight, "I'll give you the shield. I wish to God in heaven that the one who once held it was still alive. He died in battle; for him, I will always weep, which brings me, a poor wife, terrible pain."
The noble margravine rose from her seat and with her white hands she seized the shield. To Hagen the lady bare it, who took it in his hand. This gift was worthily bestowed upon the knight. A cover of shining silk concealed its colors, for it was set with precious stones. In sooth the daylight never shone on better shield. Had any wished to buy it at its cost, 'twere well worth a thousand marks. (4) Hagen bade the shield be borne away.
The noble margravine stood up and with her fair hands she grabbed the shield. She presented it to Hagen, who took it in his hand. This gift was well-deserved for the knight. A cover of shining silk hid its colors, as it was adorned with precious stones. Truly, the daylight never illuminated a better shield. If someone wanted to buy it for its value, it would be worth a thousand marks. (4) Hagen instructed that the shield be taken away.
Then Dankwart came to court. To him the margrave's daughter gave great store of rich apparel, the which he later wore among the Huns in passing lordly wise. However many gifts were taken by them, naught would have come into the hands of any, save through the kindness of the host, who proffered them so fair. Later they became such foes that they were forced to strike him dead.
Then Dankwart came to the court. The margrave's daughter gifted him many fine clothes, which he later wore among the Huns in a grand manner. Although they received many gifts, none would have reached anyone without the generous offer of the host, who presented them so nicely. Eventually, they became such enemies that they were compelled to kill him.
Now the doughty Folker went courteously with his fiddle and stood before Gotelind. He played sweet tunes and sang to her his songs. Thus he took his leave and parted from Bechelaren. The margravine bade fetch a chest. Now hear the tale of friendly gifts! Twelve rings she took out and placed them on his hand. "These ye must bear hence to Etzel's land and wear them at court for my sake, whithersoever ye turn, that men may tell me how ye have served me yonder at the feast." What the lady craved, he later carried out full well.
Now the brave Folker approached Gotelind politely with his fiddle and stood before her. He played sweet tunes and sang songs for her. After that, he took his leave and departed from Bechelaren. The margravine ordered a chest to be brought. Now listen to the story of the friendly gifts! She took out twelve rings and placed them on his hand. "You must take these to Etzel's land and wear them at court for my sake, wherever you go, so that people can tell me how you served me there at the feast." What the lady asked for, he later fulfilled very well.
Then spake the host to his guests: "Ye shall journey all the gentlier, for I myself will guide you and bid guard you well, that none may harm you on the road."
Then the host said to his guests, "You will travel more safely, because I will guide you and make sure that no one harms you on the way."
Then his sumpters were laden soon. The host was well beseen with five hundred men with steeds and vesture. These he took with him full merrily hence to the feasting. Not one of them later ever came alive to Bechelaren. With a loving kiss the host parted hence; the same did Giselher, as his gentle breeding counseled him. In their arms they clasped fair wives. This many a high-born maid must needs bewail in later times. On every side they opened the casements, for the host with his liegemen would now mount their steeds. I ween their hearts did tell them of the bitter woes to come. Then wept many a dame and many a comely maid. They pined for their dear kinsmen, whom nevermore they saw in Bechelaren. Yet these rode merrily across the sand, down along the Danube to the Hunnish land.
Then his pack animals were soon loaded up. The host was quite impressive with five hundred men, all with horses and gear. He took them all joyfully to the feast. Not one of them ever returned alive to Bechelaren. With a loving kiss, the host said goodbye; Giselher did the same, as was his polite nature. They held their beautiful wives in their arms. Many noble ladies would later mourn for this. They opened the windows all around because the host and his men were about to mount their horses. I believe their hearts told them of the bitter troubles ahead. Then many a lady and many a lovely girl wept. They longed for their dear relatives, whom they would never see again in Bechelaren. Yet they rode happily across the sand, down along the Danube to the Hunnish land.
Then noble Rudeger, the full lusty knight, spake to the Burgundians: "Certes, the tidings that we be coming to the Huns must not be left unsaid, for king Etzel hath never heard aught that pleased him more."
Then noble Rudeger, the lively knight, spoke to the Burgundians: "Surely, the news that we are coming to the Huns must not be kept quiet, for King Etzel has never heard anything that pleased him more."
So down through Austria the envoy sped, and to the folk on every side 'twas told that the heroes were coming from Worms beyond the Rhine. Naught could have been liefer to the courtiers of the king. On before the envoys hasted with the tidings, that the Nibelungs were already in the Hunnish land.
So the envoy quickly traveled through Austria, and people everywhere were told that the heroes were coming from Worms beyond the Rhine. Nothing could have pleased the king's courtiers more. The envoys rushed ahead with the news that the Nibelungs were already in Hunnish territory.
"Thou must greet them well, Kriemhild, lady mine. Thy dear brothers be coming in great state to visit thee."
"Hey, Kriemhild, my lady, you should welcome them properly. Your beloved brothers are coming to visit you in style."
Within a casement window Lady Kriemhild stood and looked out to see her kin, as friend doth for friend. Many a man she spied from her fatherland. The king, too, learned the tale and laughed for very pleasure. "Now well is me of my joys," quoth Kriemhild, "my kinsmen bring with them many a brand-new shield and white coat of mail. He who would have gold, let him bethink him of my sorrows, and I'll ever be his friend."
Within a window, Lady Kriemhild stood and looked out to see her family, just like a friend does for another. She spotted many men from her homeland. The king also heard the story and laughed with delight. "Now I feel so happy," said Kriemhild, "my relatives bring many shiny new shields and bright coats of armor. Anyone who wants gold should remember my sorrows, and I'll always be their friend."
ENDNOTES: (1) "Chaplets", see Adventure 10, note 1. (2) "Of yore", see Adventure 23, note 2. (3) "Nudung" was slain, according to the "Thidreksaga", chap. 335, by "Vidga" (here Wittich, M.H.G. "Witege", the son of Wielant, the smith, in the battle of Gronsport. There, chap. 369, he is Gotelind's brother, but in "Biterolf" and the "Rosengarten" he is her son. (4) "Marks", see Adventure V, note 5.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Chaplets", see Adventure 10, note 1. (2) "Of yore", see Adventure 23, note 2. (3) "Nudung" was killed, according to the "Thidreksaga", chap. 335, by "Vidga" (here Wittich, M.H.G. "Witege", the son of Wielant, the blacksmith, in the battle of Gronsport. There, chap. 369, he is Gotelind's brother, but in "Biterolf" and the "Rosengarten" he is her son. (4) "Marks", see Adventure V, note 5.
ADVENTURE XXVIII. How The Burgundians Came To Etzel's Castle.
When the Burgundians were come to the land, old Hildebrand (1) of Berne did hear the tale, and sore it rued him. He told his lord, who bade him welcome well the lusty knights and brave. The doughty Wolfhart (2) bade fetch the steeds; then many a sturdy warrior rode with Dietrich, to where he thought to meet them on the plain where they had pitched full many a lordly tent. When Hagen of Troneg saw them riding from afar, to his lords he spake in courteous wise: "Now must ye doughty warriors rise from your seats and go to meet them, who would greet you here. Yonder cometh a fellowship I know full well, they be full speedy knights from the Amelung land, (3) whom the lord of Berne doth lead—high-mettled warriors they. Scorn not the service that they proffer."
When the Burgundians arrived in the land, old Hildebrand (1) of Berne heard the news and felt deep regret. He informed his lord, who instructed him to warmly welcome the lively and brave knights. The valiant Wolfhart (2) ordered the horses to be brought, and many strong warriors rode with Dietrich to where he planned to meet them on the plain, where they had pitched numerous grand tents. When Hagen of Troneg saw them approaching from a distance, he spoke to his lords courteously: “Now you brave warriors must rise from your seats and go out to greet them, for they have come to meet you here. Over there comes a group I know well; they are swift knights from the Amelung land (3), led by the lord of Berne—proud warriors indeed. Do not dismiss the service they offer.”
Then with Dietrich there alighted from the steeds, as was mickle right, many a knight and squire. Towards the strangers they went, to where they found the heroes; in friendly wise they greeted those from the Burgundian land. Ye may now hear what Sir Dietrich said to the sons of Uta, as he saw them coming toward him. Their journey rued him sore; he weened that Rudeger wist it, and had told them the tale. "Be ye welcome, fair sirs, Gunther and Giselher, Gernot and Hagen, likewise Folker and the doughty Dankwart. Know ye not that Kriemhild still mourneth sorely for the hero of the Nibelung land?"
Then Dietrich and many knights and squires dismounted from their horses. They walked toward the strangers and greeted the heroes from the Burgundian land in a friendly manner. You can now hear what Sir Dietrich said to the sons of Uta as he saw them approaching. He regretted their journey; he thought Rudeger knew about it and had shared the story with them. "Welcome, noble sirs, Gunther and Giselher, Gernot and Hagen, as well as Folker and the brave Dankwart. Don't you know that Kriemhild still deeply mourns the hero of the Nibelung land?"
"Let her weep long time," quoth Hagen. "He hath lain these many years, done to death. Let her love now the Hunnish king. Siegfried cometh not again, he hath long been buried."
"Let her cry for a long time," said Hagen. "He has been dead for many years. Let her love the Hunnish king now. Siegfried won’t be coming back; he's been buried for a long time."
"Let us not talk of Siegfried's wounds, but if Kriemhild still live, scathe may hap again," so spake Sir Dietrich, the lord of Berne. "Hope of the Nibelungs, guard thee well against this."
"Let's not discuss Siegfried's injuries, but if Kriemhild is still alive, there could be trouble again," said Sir Dietrich, the lord of Berne. "Hope of the Nibelungs, take care."
"Why should I guard me?" spake the high-born king. "Etzel sent us envoys (why should I question more?) to say that we should ride to visit him, hither to this land. My sister Kriemhild sent us many a message, too."
"Why should I protect myself?" spoke the noble king. "Etzel sent us envoys (why should I question this further?) to say that we should ride to visit him here in this land. My sister Kriemhild sent us many messages as well."
"Let me counsel you," quoth Hagen, "to beg Sir Dietrich and his good knights to tell you the tidings further, and to let you know the Lady Kriemhild's mood."
"Let me advise you," said Hagen, "to ask Sir Dietrich and his noble knights to share more news with you and to inform you about Lady Kriemhild's state of mind."
Then the three mighty kings, Gunther and Gernot and Sir Dietrich, too, went and spake apart. "Pray tell us, good and noble knight of Berne, what ye do know of the queen's mood?"
Then the three powerful kings, Gunther, Gernot, and Sir Dietrich, went aside and said, "Please tell us, good and noble knight of Berne, what do you know about the queen's mood?"
Answered the lord of Berne: "What more shall I tell you? Every morning I hear King Etzel's wife wail and weep with piteous mind to the mighty God of heaven over the stalwart Siegfried's death."
Answered the lord of Berne: "What else do you want me to say? Every morning I hear King Etzel's wife cry and mourn earnestly to the mighty God in heaven for the brave Siegfried's death."
"That which we have heard," spake bold Folker, the fiddler, "cannot be turned aside. We must ride to court and abide what may hap to us doughty knights among the Huns."
"Everything we've heard," said bold Folker, the fiddler, "can't be ignored. We must ride to court and face whatever may happen to us brave knights among the Huns."
The brave Burgundians now rode to court. In lordly wise they came after the fashion of their land. Many a brave man among the Huns wondered what manner of man Hagen of Troneg be. It was enough that men told tales, that he had slain Kriemhild's husband the mightiest of all heroes. For that cause alone much questioning about Hagen was heard at court. The knight was fair of stature, that is full true; broad he was across the breast; his hair was mixed with gray; his legs were long, and fierce his glance; lordly gait he had.
The brave Burgundians rode to court with great style, just like their people do. Many strong men among the Huns wondered what kind of man Hagen of Troneg was. It was enough that people shared stories about how he had killed Kriemhild's husband, the greatest of all heroes. For that reason alone, there was a lot of curiosity about Hagen at court. The knight was tall, that much is true; he had a broad chest, his hair was streaked with gray, his legs were long, and his gaze was fierce; he carried himself with an air of nobility.
Then one bade lodge the Burgundian men, but Gunther's fellowship was placed apart. This the queen advised, who bare him much hate, and therefore men later slew the footmen in their lodgings. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, he was marshal. The king earnestly commended to him his followers, that he purvey them well and give them enow to eat; The hero of Burgundy bare them all good will. Kriemhild, the fair, went with her maids-in-waiting to where, false of mood, she greeted the Nibelungs. Giselher alone she kissed and took by the hand. That Hagen of Troneg saw, and bound his helmet tighter. "After such a greeting," quoth Hagen, "doughty knights may well bethink them. One giveth kings a greeting different from their men. We have not made a good journey to this feast." (4)
Then someone asked to host the Burgundian men, but Gunther's group was kept separate. This was suggested by the queen, who secretly hated him, and as a result, people ended up killing the foot soldiers in their lodgings later. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, was in charge. The king earnestly instructed him to take care of his followers, ensuring they had enough to eat; the hero of Burgundy genuinely wanted the best for them. Kriemhild, the beautiful, approached with her attendants and, in a deceitful mood, greeted the Nibelungs. She kissed Giselher and took his hand. When Hagen of Troneg saw this, he tightened his helmet. "After such a greeting," Hagen said, "brave knights should be on alert. There’s a different way to greet kings compared to their men. This journey to the feast isn’t going well."
She spake: "Be welcome to him that be fain to see you; I greet you not for your kinship. Pray tell me what ye do bring me from Worms beyond the Rhine, that ye should be so passing welcome to me here?"
She said: "Welcome to the one who is eager to see you; I'm not greeting you because of your family. Please tell me what you bring me from Worms beyond the Rhine, that makes you so very welcome here?"
"Had I known," quoth Hagen, "that knights should bring you gifts, I had bethought me better, for I be rich enow to bring you presents hither to this land."
"Had I known," said Hagen, "that knights were supposed to bring you gifts, I would have thought better of it, because I have enough wealth to bring you presents here to this land."
"Now let me hear the tale of where ye have put the Nibelung hoard? It was mine own, as ye well know, and ye should have brought me that to Etzel's land."
"Now tell me, where did you put the Nibelung treasure? It belonged to me, as you know, and you should have brought it to Etzel's land."
"I' faith, my Lady Kriemhild, it is many a day sith I have had the care of the Nibelung hoard. My lords bade sink it in the Rhine, and there it must verily lie till doomsday."
"I swear, my Lady Kriemhild, it's been a long time since I took care of the Nibelung treasure. My lords ordered it to be sunk in the Rhine, and that's where it will definitely stay until the end of time."
Then spake the queen: "I thought as much. Ye have brought full little of it hither to this land, albeit it was mine own, and I had it whilom in my care. Therefore have I all time so many a mournful day."
Then the queen said, "I thought so. You’ve brought very little of it here to this land, even though it was mine, and I once took care of it. That’s why I’ve had so many sad days."
"The devil I'll bring you," answered Hagen. "I have enough to carry with my shield and breastplate; my helm is bright, the sword is in my hand, therefore I bring you naught."
"The devil I’ll bring you," Hagen replied. "I have enough to carry with my shield and breastplate; my helmet is shiny, and the sword is in my hand, so I'm bringing you nothing."
Then the queen spake to the knights on every side: "One may not bring weapons to the hall. Sir Knights, give them to me, I'll have them taken in charge."
Then the queen spoke to the knights all around: "No one is allowed to bring weapons into the hall. Sir Knights, hand them over to me, and I'll make sure they're taken care of."
"I' faith," quoth Hagen, "never shall that be done. In sooth I crave not the honor, O bounteous princess, that ye should bear my shield and other arms to the lodgings; ye be a queen. This my father did not teach me, I myself will play the chamberlain."
"I swear," said Hagen, "that will never happen. Honestly, I don’t want the honor, dear princess, of you carrying my shield and other gear to the lodgings; you are a queen. My father didn’t teach me that; I’ll handle the duties myself."
"Alack for my sorrows," spake Lady Kriemhild. "Why will Hagen and my brother not let their shields be taken in charge? They be warned, and wist I, who hath done this, I'd ever plan his death."
"Alas for my sorrows," said Lady Kriemhild. "Why won’t Hagen and my brother let someone take care of their shields? They’ve been warned, and if I knew who did this, I would always plan their death."
To this Sir Dietrich answered in wrath: "'Tis I, that hath warned the noble and mighty princes and the bold Hagen, the Burgundian liegeman. Go to, thou she-devil, thou durst not make me suffer for the deed."
To this, Sir Dietrich angrily replied: "It's me who has warned the noble and powerful princes and the brave Hagen, the Burgundian vassal. Come on, you she-devil, you won't make me pay for what I did."
Sore abashed was King Etzel's wife, for bitterly she feared Sir Dietrich. At once she left him, not a word she spake, but gazed with furious glance upon her foes. Two warriors then grasped each other quickly by the hand, the one was Sir Dietrich, the other Hagen. With gentle breeding the lusty hero spake: "Forsooth I rue your coming to the Huns, because of what the queen hath said."
Sore embarrassed was King Etzel's wife, for she was deeply afraid of Sir Dietrich. She immediately turned away from him, not saying a word, but looked angrily at her enemies. Two warriors then quickly shook hands, one was Sir Dietrich, the other Hagen. With polite manners, the strong hero said: "Honestly, I regret your arrival among the Huns because of what the queen has mentioned."
Quoth Hagen: "There will be help for that."
Quoth Hagen: "There will be assistance for that."
Thus the two brave men talked together. King Etzel saw this, and therefore he began to query: "Fain would I know," spake the mighty king, "who yonder warrior be, whom Sir Dietrich greeteth there in such friendly wise. He carrieth high his head; whoever be his father, he is sure a doughty knight."
Thus the two brave men talked together. King Etzel saw this, and so he began to ask, "I would like to know," said the mighty king, "who that warrior is, whom Sir Dietrich greets so warmly. He holds his head high; whoever his father is, he is definitely a bold knight."
A liegeman of Kriemhild made answer to the king: "By birth he is from Troneg, his father hight Aldrian; however blithe he bear him here, a grim man is he. I'll let you see full well that I have told no lie."
A vassal of Kriemhild replied to the king: "He’s from Troneg by birth, and his father’s name is Aldrian; no matter how cheerful he seems here, he’s actually a harsh man. I’ll prove to you that I’m telling the truth."
"How shall I know that he be so fierce?" replied the king. As yet he wist not the many evil tricks that the queen should later play upon her kin, so that she let none escape from the Huns alive.
"How will I know that he is so fierce?" replied the king. At that point, he didn't yet know the many harmful schemes that the queen would later use against her family, so she let none escape from the Huns alive.
"Well know I Aldrian, for he was my vassal (5) and here at my court gained mickle praise and honor. I dubbed him knight and gave hint of my gold. The faithful Helca loved him inly. Therefore I have since known Hagen every whit. Two stately youths became my hostages, he and Walther of Spain. (6) Here they grew to manhood; Hagen I sent home again, Walther ran away with Hildegund."
"Well, I know Aldrian well, because he was my vassal and here at my court earned a lot of praise and honor. I made him a knight and gave him some of my gold. The loyal Helca loved him deeply. So, I've come to know Hagen really well since then. Two noble young men became my hostages, he and Walther of Spain. They grew up here; I sent Hagen home again, while Walther ran away with Hildegund."
He bethought him of many tales that had happed of yore. He had spied aright his friend of Troneg, who in his youth had given him yeoman service. Later in his old age he did him many a dear friend to death.
He remembered many stories from the past. He had correctly noticed his friend from Troneg, who had been a good supporter in his youth. Later, in his old age, he caused the deaths of many dear friends.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Hildebrand" is the teacher and armor bearer of Dietrich. He is the hero of the famous "Hildebrandslied". (2) "Wolfhart" is Hildebrand's nephew. In the "Thidreksaga" he falls in the battle of Gronsport. (3) "Amelung land" is the name under which Dietrich's land appears. Theodorich, the king of the East Goths, belonged to the race of the Amali. (4) "Feast". That Kriemhild kissed only Giselher, who was innocent of Siegfried's death, aroused Hagen's suspicions. (5) "Vassal". No other account speaks of Aldrian as being at Etzel's court. He is probably confused here with his son, for Hagen's stay with Etzel in various legends, as also in our poem a few lines further down. (6) "Walther of Spain" is Walther of Aquitania, a legendary personage of whom the O.E. fragment "Waldere", the Latin epic "Waltharius", a M.H.G. epic, and the "Thidreksaga" tell. He flees with Hildegund, the daughter of the Burgundian King Herrich, from Etzel's court, as related here, but has to fight for his life against overpowering numbers, in the "Thidreksaga" against the pursuing Huns, in the other sources against the Burgundians. In both cases Hagen is among his foes, but takes no part in the fight at first, out of friendship for Walther.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Hildebrand" is the mentor and armor bearer of Dietrich. He is the main character in the well-known "Hildebrandslied". (2) "Wolfhart" is Hildebrand's nephew. In the "Thidreksaga," he dies in the battle of Gronsport. (3) "Amelung land" is the name used for Dietrich's territory. Theodorich, the king of the East Goths, was part of the Amali lineage. (4) "Feast". Kriemhild's kiss to only Giselher, who had nothing to do with Siegfried's death, raised Hagen's suspicions. (5) "Vassal". No other source mentions Aldrian being at Etzel's court. He is likely mixed up with his son, as Hagen's time with Etzel appears in various legends and also in our poem a few lines below. (6) "Walther of Spain" refers to Walther of Aquitania, a legendary figure mentioned in the O.E. fragment "Waldere," the Latin epic "Waltharius," a M.H.G. epic, and the "Thidreksaga." He escapes with Hildegund, the daughter of the Burgundian King Herrich, from Etzel's court, as reported here, but has to fight for his life against overwhelming forces, in the "Thidreksaga" against pursuing Huns, in other sources against the Burgundians. In both scenarios, Hagen is among his enemies but initially refrains from fighting out of friendship for Walther.
ADVENTURE XXIX. How Hagen Would Not Rise For Kriemhild.
Then the two worshipful warriors parted, Hagen of Troneg and Sir Dietrich. Over his shoulder Gunther's liegeman gazed for a comrade-at-arms, whom he then quickly won. Folker he saw, the cunning fiddler, stand by Giselher, and begged him to join him, for well he knew his savage mood. He was in all things a bold knight and a good. Still they let the lordings stand in the court, only these twain alone men saw walk hence far across the court before a spacious palace. These chosen warriors feared the hate of none. They sate them down upon a bench before the house over against a hall, the which belonged to Kriemhild. Upon their bodies shone their lordly weeds. Enow who gazed upon them would than have known the knights; as wild beasts the haughty heroes were stared upon by the Hunnish men. Etzel's wife, too, gazed upon them through a window, at which fair Kriemhild waxed sad again. Of her sorrows it minded her and she began to weep. Much it wondered Etzel's men what had so quickly saddened her mood. Quoth she: "That Hagen hath done, ye heroes brave and good."
Then the two noble warriors parted ways, Hagen of Troneg and Sir Dietrich. Over his shoulder, Gunther's loyal knight looked for a fellow warrior, who he quickly found. He saw Folker, the clever fiddler, standing by Giselher, and asked him to join him, knowing well his fierce temperament. He was a brave and honorable knight in every way. Still, the lords stood in the courtyard, with only these two men walking across the courtyard towards a large palace. These chosen warriors were not afraid of anyone’s hatred. They sat down on a bench in front of the house opposite a hall that belonged to Kriemhild. Their noble attire shimmered on their bodies. Anyone who looked at them would have recognized the knights; the proud heroes were gawked at like wild animals by the Hunnish men. Etzel's wife also looked at them through a window, making fair Kriemhild feel sad again. It reminded her of her sorrows, and she began to weep. Etzel's men were puzzled as to what had suddenly made her feel so down. She said, "It is the doing of Hagen, you brave and good heroes."
To the lady they spake: "How hath that happed, for but newly we did see you joyful? None there be so bold, an' he hath done you aught, but it will cost him his life, if ye bid us venge you."
To the lady they said: "What happened? Just recently we saw you happy. No one here is so bold that if he has wronged you, it won't cost him his life if you ask us to take revenge."
"Ever would I requite it, if any avenged my wrongs. I would give him all he craved. Behold me at your feet," spake he queen; "avenge me on Hagen, that he lose his life."
"Whenever I could repay it, if anyone avenged my wrongs. I would give him everything he wanted. Look at me at your feet," said the queen; " avenge me on Hagen, so that he loses his life."
Then sixty bold men made them ready eftsoon for Kriemhild's sake. They would hence to slay the bold knight Hagen and the fiddler, too. With forethought this was done. When the queen beheld the band so small, grim of mood she spake to the knights: "What ye now would do, ye should give over. With so few durst ye never encounter Hagen. And however strong and bold Hagen of Troneg be, he who sitteth by his side, Folker, the fiddler, is stronger still by far. He is an evil man. Certes, ye may not so lightly match these knights."
Then sixty brave men quickly got ready for Kriemhild's sake. They planned to go and kill the brave knight Hagen and the fiddler too. This was done with careful thought. When the queen saw the group was so small, she spoke to the knights with a grim expression: "What you are about to do, you should reconsider. With so few, you would never stand a chance against Hagen. And no matter how strong and brave Hagen of Troneg is, the man sitting next to him, Folker the fiddler, is even stronger. He is a wicked man. Indeed, you cannot hope to match these knights so easily."
When they heard this, four hundred doughty warriors more did make them ready. The noble queen craved sore to do them harm. Thereby the heroes later fell in mickle danger. When she saw her followers well armed, the queen spake to the doughty knights: "Now bide a while, ye must stand quite still in truth. Wearing my crown, I will go to meet my foes. List ye to the wrongs that Hagen of Troneg, Gunther's man, hath done me. I know him to be so haughty that he'll not deny a whit. Little I reek what hap to him on this account."
When they heard this, four hundred brave warriors got ready. The noble queen was eager to take her revenge. As a result, the heroes later found themselves in great danger. When she saw her followers well-armed, the queen said to the brave knights, "Now wait a moment; you must stand still for a while. Wearing my crown, I will go to confront my enemies. Listen to the wrongs that Hagen of Troneg, Gunther's man, has done to me. I know him well enough to be so arrogant that he won't deny a thing. I don't care what happens to him because of this."
Then the fiddler, a bold minstrel, spied the noble queen walk down the flight of steps that led downward from a house. When bold Folker saw this, to his comrade-at-arms he spake: "Now behold, friend Hagen, how she walketh yonder, who hath faithlessly bidden us to this land. I have never seen with a queen so many men bearing sword in hand march in such warlike guise. Know ye, friend Hagen, whether she bear you hate? If so be, I counsel you to guard the better your life and honor. Certes, methinks this good. They be wroth of mood, as far as I can see, and some be so broad of chest that he who would guard himself should do so betimes. I ween there be those among them who wear bright breastplates. Whom they would attack, I cannot say."
Then the fiddler, a bold minstrel, noticed the noble queen walking down the flight of steps that led from a house. When brave Folker saw this, he said to his comrade-at-arms, "Look over there, friend Hagen, at how she walks, the one who has deceitfully invited us to this land. I’ve never seen a queen with so many armed men marching in such a warlike manner. Do you know, friend Hagen, if she holds any animosity towards you? If so, I advise you to protect your life and honor more carefully. Indeed, it seems to me this is wise. They appear to be in a foul mood, from what I can see, and some are so broad-shouldered that anyone wanting to defend themselves should do so quickly. I suspect there are those among them who are wearing bright breastplates. I can't say who they plan to attack."
Then, angry of mood, the brave knight Hagen spake: "Well I wot that all this be done against me, that they thus bear their gleaming swords in hand. For aught of them, I still may ride to the Burgundian land. Now tell me, friend Folker, whether ye will stand by me, if perchance Kriemhild's men would fight me? Pray let me hear that, if so be ye hold me dear. I'll aid you evermore with faithful service."
Then, feeling angry, the brave knight Hagen said, "I know that all of this is against me, with them holding their shining swords in hand. As for any of them, I can still ride to the Burgundian land. Now tell me, friend Folker, will you stand by me if Kriemhild's men decide to fight me? Please let me know, if you truly care about me. I will always support you with loyal service."
"I'll help you surely," spake the minstrel; "and should I see the king with all his warriors draw near us, not one foot will I yield from fear in aiding you, the while I live."
"I'll definitely help you," said the minstrel; "and if I see the king and all his warriors coming toward us, I won't back down out of fear while I'm alive."
"Now may God in heaven requite you, noble Folker; though they strive against me, what need I more? Sith ye will help me, as I hear you say, let these warriors come on full-armed."
"Now may God in heaven reward you, noble Folker; even if they oppose me, what more do I need? Since you say you will help me, let these warriors come fully armed."
"Let us rise now from our seats," spake the minstrel. "Let us do her honor as she passeth by, she is a high-born dame, a queen. We shall thereby honor ourselves as well."
"Let’s get up from our seats now," said the minstrel. "Let’s honor her as she walks by; she is a noble lady, a queen. By doing so, we honor ourselves too."
"For my sake, no," quoth Hagen. "Should I go hence, these knights would think 'twas through fear. Not for one of them will I ever rise from my seat. It beseemeth us both better, forsooth, to leave this undone, for why should I honor one who doth bear me hatred? Nor will I do this, the while I live; I reck not how King Etzel's wife doth hate me."
"For my sake, no," Hagen said. "If I leave now, these knights would think it’s out of fear. I won't get up from my seat for any of them. It's better for both of us to leave this unresolved because why should I honor someone who hates me? I won’t do this as long as I live; I don’t care how much King Etzel's wife hates me."
Haughty Hagen laid across his knees a gleaming sword from whose pommel a sparkling jasper, greener than grass, did shine. Its hilt was golden, its sheath an edging of red. That it was Siegfried's, Kriemhild knew full well. She must needs grow sad when that she knew the sword, for it minded her of her wrongs; she began to weep. I ween bold Hagen had done it for this cause. Folker, the bold, drew nearer to the bench a fiddle bow, strong, mickle, and long, like unto a broad, sharp sword, and there the two lusty knights sate undaunted. These two brave men did think themselves so lordly, that they would not leave their seats through fear of any man. The noble queen walked therefore to their very feet and gave them hostile greeting. She spake: "Now tell me, Hagen, who hath sent for you, that ye durst ride hither to this land, sith ye know full well what ye have done me? Had ye good wits, ye should have left it undone, by rights."
Haughty Hagen lay across his knees a shiny sword, from the pommel of which a sparkling jasper, greener than grass, shone. Its hilt was gold, and its sheath had a red trim. Kriemhild knew very well that it belonged to Siegfried. Seeing the sword made her sad because it reminded her of her grievances, and she started to cry. I believe bold Hagen had done this on purpose. Folker, the brave one, brought a fiddle bow closer to the bench, strong, thick, and long, like a broad, sharp sword, and there sat the two daring knights, unafraid. They thought themselves so powerful that they wouldn't leave their seats out of fear of anyone. The noble queen then walked right up to their feet and gave them a hostile greeting. She said, “Now tell me, Hagen, who sent for you that you dared to ride into this land, knowing full well what you’ve done to me? If you had any sense, you would have stayed away from here, to be honest.”
"No one sent for me," quoth Hagen. "Men bade to this land three knights, who hight my lords. I am their liegeman, and full seldom have I stayed behind when they journeyed to any court."
"No one called for me," Hagen said. "Three knights came to this land, who are my lords. I am their vassal, and I've rarely stayed behind when they traveled to any court."
Quoth she: "Now tell me further, why ye did this, through the which ye have earned my hate? Ye slew Siegfried, my dear husband, for which I have cause enow to weep until mine end."
Quoth she: "Now tell me more, why did you do this, because of which you have made me hate you? You killed Siegfried, my beloved husband, and for that, I have plenty of reason to cry until my last day."
Quoth he: "What booteth more, enow is already said. It is just I, Hagen, who slew Siegfried, a hero of his hands. How sorely did he atone that Lady Kriemhild railed at comely Brunhild. 'Tis not to be denied, O mighty queen, I alone am to blame for this scathful scathe. (1) Let him avenge it who will, be he wife or man. Unless be I should lie to you, I have dons you much of harm."
He said: "What’s the use of saying more? I've already said enough. It’s me, Hagen, who killed Siegfried, a true hero. He paid dearly for the way Lady Kriemhild insulted the beautiful Brunhild. There's no denying it, O mighty queen, I alone am responsible for this terrible harm. (1) Let whoever wants to avenge it do so, whether it’s a woman or a man. Unless I'm lying to you, I've done you a lot of harm."
Quoth she: "Now hear, ye knights, how he denieth no whit of my wrongs. Men of Etzel, I care not what hap to him from this cause."
Quoth she: "Now listen, knights, how he doesn’t deny any of my wrongs. Men of Etzel, I don't care what happens to him because of this."
The proud warriors all gazed at one another. Had any began the fight, it would have come about that men must have given the honors to the two comrades, for they had oft wrought wonders in the fray. What the Huns had weened to do must now needs be left undone through fear.
The proud warriors all looked at each other. If anyone had started the fight, it would have turned out that everyone would have honored the two comrades, because they had often performed amazing feats in battle. What the Huns had planned to do must now be left undone out of fear.
Then spake one of the men-at-arms: "Why gaze ye thus at me? What I afore vowed, I will now give over. I will lose my life for no man's gift. Forsooth King Etzel's wife would fain lead us into wrong."
Then one of the soldiers said, "Why are you looking at me like that? What I promised before, I’ll now take back. I won’t risk my life for anyone’s reward. Honestly, King Etzel’s wife would love to lead us into trouble."
Quoth another hard by: "Of the selfsame mind am I. An' any give me towers of good red gold, I would not match this fiddler, for his fearful glances, the which I have seen him cast. Hagen, too, I have known from his youthful days, wherefore men can tell me little of this knight. I have seen him fight in two and twenty battles, through which woe of heart hath happed to many a dame. He and the knight from Spain trod many a war path, when here at Etzel's court they waged so many wars in honor of the king. Much this happed, wherefore one must justly honor Hagen. At that time the warrior was of his years a lad. How gray are they who then were young! Now is he come to wit and is a man full grim. Balmung, (2) too, he beareth, the which he won in evil wise."
Said another nearby: "I feel the same way. Even if someone offered me towers of good red gold, I wouldn't trade places with this fiddler because of his terrifying looks that I've seen him give. I've known Hagen since he was young, so there's not much anyone can tell me about this knight. I've seen him fight in twenty-two battles, which has brought sorrow to many a lady. He and the knight from Spain walked many battlefields when they waged so many wars here at Etzel's court in honor of the king. This happened a lot, which is why Hagen deserves respect. Back then, he was just a young warrior. How gray are those who were young then! Now he has grown wise and is a very formidable man. He also carries Balmung, which he won in a not-so-good way."
Therewith the strife was parted, so that no one fought, which mightily rued the queen. The warriors turned them hence; in sooth they feared their death at the fiddler's hands, and surely they had need of this. Then spake the fiddler: "We have now well seen that we shall find foes here, as we heard tell afore. Let us go to court now to the kings, then dare none match our lords in fight. How oft a man doth leave a thing undone through fear, the which he would not do, when friend standeth by friend in friendly (3) wise, an' he have good wits. Scathe to many a man is lightly warded off by forethought."
The fighting stopped, so no one was hurt, which the queen greatly regretted. The warriors walked away; they honestly feared for their lives at the fiddler's hands, and they definitely had reason for that. Then the fiddler said, "We have clearly seen that we will find enemies here, as we heard before. Let's go to court now to the kings; then no one will dare to challenge our lords in battle. How often does a person leave something unfinished out of fear, which they wouldn’t have done if a friend stood by them in a supportive way, and if they had some common sense. Many a man can easily avoid disaster by planning ahead."
Quoth Hagen: "Now will I follow you."
Quoth Hagen: "Now I'll follow you."
They went to where they found the dapper warriors standing in the court in a great press of welcoming knights.
They went to where they found the stylish warriors standing in the courtyard surrounded by a large group of welcoming knights.
Bold Folker gan speak loudly to his lords: "How long will ye stand and let yourselves be jostled? Ye must go to court and hear from the king of what mind he be."
Bold Folker spoke loudly to his lords: "How long will you stand by and let yourselves be pushed around? You need to go to court and hear from the king what he has to say."
Men then saw the brave heroes and good pair off. The prince of Berne took by the hand the mighty Gunther of Burgundian land. Irnfried (4) took the brave knight Gernot, while Rudeger was seen to go to court with Giselher. But however any paired, Folker and Hagen never parted, save in one fray, when their end was come, and this noble ladies must needs greatly bewail in after time. With the kings one saw go to court a thousand brave men of their fellowship, thereto sixty champions that were come with them, whom the bold Hagen had taken from his land. Hawart and Iring, (5) two chosen men, were seen to walk together near the kings. Men saw Dankwart and Wolfhart, a peerless knight, display their chivalry before all eyes.
Men then saw the brave heroes and good pair up. The prince of Berne took the mighty Gunther from Burgundian land by the hand. Irnfried took the brave knight Gernot, while Rudeger was seen going to court with Giselher. But no matter how anyone else paired up, Folker and Hagen never separated, except in one battle when their end came, and this noble lady must greatly mourn in the future. Along with the kings, a thousand brave men from their fellowship were seen going to court, plus sixty champions who had come with them, whom the bold Hagen had brought from his land. Hawart and Iring, two chosen men, were seen walking together near the kings. Dankwart and Wolfhart, a peerless knight, displayed their chivalry before everyone's eyes.
When the lord of the Rhine had entered the hall, the mighty Etzel delayed no longer, but sprang from his throne when he saw him come. Never did so fair a greeting hap from any king. "Be welcome, Sir Gunther, and Sir Gernot, too, and your brother Giselher. I sent you truly my faithful service to Worms beyond the Rhine. All your fellowship, too, I welcome. Now be ye passing welcome, ye two knights, Folker, the brave, and Sir Hagen likewise, to me and to my lady, here in this our land. She sent you many a messenger to the Rhine."
When the lord of the Rhine entered the hall, the powerful Etzel didn't wait any longer and jumped down from his throne as soon as he saw him arrive. Never had such a pleasant greeting happened from any king. "Welcome, Sir Gunther, and you too, Sir Gernot, and your brother Giselher. I truly sent my loyal service to Worms across the Rhine. I also welcome all your companions. Now, you two knights, Folker the brave and Sir Hagen, are very welcome to me and my lady here in our land. She sent you many messages to the Rhine."
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "I heard much talk of that, and were I not come to the Huns for the sake of my lords, I should have ridden in your honor to this land."
Then spoke Hagen of Troneg: "I’ve heard a lot about that, and if I hadn't come to the Huns for the sake of my lords, I would have ridden here in your honor."
The noble host then took his dear guests by the hand and led them to the settle where he sate himself. Busily they poured out for the guests in broad bowls of gold, mead, morat, (6) and wine and bade those far from home be welcome. Then spake King Etzel: "Let me tell you this; it might not liefer hap to me in all this world, than through you heroes, that ye be come to see me. Through this much sadness is also taken from the queen. Me-wondereth greatly what I have done you noble strangers, that ye never recked to come into my land. My sadness is turned to joy, since now I see you here."
The noble host then took his dear guests by the hand and led them to the couch where he sat himself. Eagerly, they poured out mead, morat, and wine for the guests in large gold bowls, welcoming those far from home. Then King Etzel spoke: "Let me tell you this; there isn’t anything I could want more in this world than to have you heroes come to see me. This has also eased much of the queen's sadness. I greatly wonder what I’ve done to you noble strangers that you never thought to visit my land. My sadness has turned to joy, now that I see you here."
To this Rudeger, a high-mettled knight, made answer: "Ye may be glad to see them. Good is the fealty which the kinsmen of my lady wot how to use so well. They bring also to your house many a stately knight."
To this, Rudeger, a proud knight, replied: "You should be pleased to see them. The loyalty shown by my lady's relatives is truly admirable. They also bring many distinguished knights to your home."
Upon a midsummer's eve the lords were come to the court of the mighty Etzel. Seldom hath there been heard such lofty greeting as when he welcomed the heroes. When now the time to eat was come, the king went with them to the board. Never did host sit fairer with his guests. Men gave them meat and drink to the full. All that they craved stood ready for them, for mickle wonders had been told about these knights.
Upon a midsummer evening, the lords arrived at the court of the great Etzel. Rarely has there been such a grand welcome as when he greeted the heroes. When it was time to eat, the king joined them at the table. Never has a host sat more graciously with his guests. They were provided with plenty of food and drink. Everything they desired was prepared for them, as many incredible tales had been shared about these knights.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Scathful scathe" here imitates the M.H.G. "scaden scedelich". (2) "Balmung", see Adventure III, note 7. (3) "friend... friendly". This repetition occurs in the original. (4) "Irnfried", see Adventure XXII, note 8. (5) "Hawart" and "Iring", Adventure XXII, notes 6 and 7. (6) "Morat" (M.H.G. "moraz") from late Latin "moratum", mulberry wine, is a beverage composed of honey flavored with mulberry-juice.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Scathful scathe" here mimics the M.H.G. "scaden scedelich". (2) "Balmung", see Adventure III, note 7. (3) "friend... friendly". This repetition is present in the original. (4) "Irnfried", see Adventure XXII, note 8. (5) "Hawart" and "Iring", Adventure XXII, notes 6 and 7. (6) "Morat" (M.H.G. "moraz") from late Latin "moratum", mulberry wine, is a drink made from honey and mulberry juice.
ADVENTURE XXX. How They Kept The Watch.
The day had now an end, and the night drew nigh. Care beset the wayworn travelers, as to when they should go to bed and rest them. This Hagen bespake with Etzel, and it was told them soon.
The day had come to an end, and night was approaching. Worry troubled the tired travelers about when they should go to bed and get some rest. Hagen discussed this with Etzel, and they got an answer quickly.
Gunther spake to the host: "God be with you, we would fain go to our sleep, pray give us leave. We will come early on the morrow, whensoever ye bid."
Gunther said to the host, "God be with you, we would like to go to sleep, please give us permission. We will come early tomorrow, whenever you say."
Etzel parted then full merrily from his guests. Men pressed the strangers on every side, at which brave Folker spake to the Huns: "How dare ye crowd before the warriors' feet? An' ye will not leave this, ye will fare full ill. I'll smite some man so heavy a fiddle blow, that if he have a faithful friend he may well bewail it. Why give ye not way before us knights? Methinks 'twere well. All pass for knights, but be not of equal mettle."
Etzel then happily bid farewell to his guests. The men surrounded the newcomers, prompting brave Folker to speak to the Huns: "How dare you crowd around the feet of the warriors? If you don't back off, you will regret it. I'll hit someone so hard that if he has a good friend, he'll definitely cry about it. Why don’t you step aside for us knights? I think that would be wise. Everyone claims to be a knight, but not all are equal in courage."
As the fiddler spake thus in wrath, Hagen, the brave, looked behind him. He spake: "The bold gleeman doth advise you right, ye men of Kriemhild, ye should hie you to your lodgings. I ween none of you will do what ye are minded, but would ye begin aught, come early on the morrow, and let us wanderers have peace to-night. Certes, I ween that it hath never happed with such good will on the part of heroes."
As the fiddler spoke in anger, Hagen, the brave, glanced back. He said, "The bold entertainer gives you good advice, people of Kriemhild, you should head to your lodgings. I doubt any of you will do what you intend, but if you plan to start anything, come back early tomorrow and let us wanderers have peace tonight. Truly, I believe this has never happened with such good intentions from heroes."
Then the guests were brought into a spacious hall, which they found purveyed on every side with costly beds, long and broad, for the warriors. Lady Kriemhild planned the very greatest wrongs against them. One saw there many a cunningly wrought quilt from Arras (1) of shining silken cloth and many a coverlet of Arabian silk, the best that might be had; upon this ran a border that shone in princely wise. Many bed covers of ermine and of black sable were seen, beneath which they should have their ease at night, until the dawn of day. Never hath king lain so lordly with his meiny.
Then the guests were brought into a spacious hall, which they found filled on every side with luxurious beds, long and wide, for the warriors. Lady Kriemhild had planned the greatest betrayals against them. There were many cleverly designed quilts from Arras made of shiny silk and various coverlets of the finest Arabian silk available; these had borders that gleamed in a royal way. Many bed covers made of ermine and black sable were seen, under which they would rest at night until dawn. Never has a king lain so grandly with his entourage.
"Alas for these night quarters," spake Giselher, the youth, "and alas for my friends, who be come with us. However kindly my sister greeted us, yet I do fear me that through her fault we must soon lie dead."
"Sadly for these sleeping arrangements," said Giselher, the young man, "and sadly for my friends who came with us. No matter how warmly my sister welcomed us, I worry that because of her, we might soon end up dead."
"Now give over your care," quoth Hagen, the knight. "I'll stand watch myself to-night. I trow to guard us well, until the day doth come. Therefore have no fear; after that, let him survive who may."
"Now stop worrying," said Hagen, the knight. "I'll keep watch myself tonight. I’m sure I can protect us well until morning. So don’t be afraid; after that, let whoever can survive do so."
All bowed low and said him gramercy. Then went they to their beds. A short while after the stately men had laid them down, bold Hagen, the hero, began to arm him. Then the fiddler, Knight Folker, spake: "If it scorn you not, Hagen, I would fain hold the watch with you to-night, until the early morn."
All bowed low and thanked him. Then they went to their beds. A little while after the impressive men had settled in, brave Hagen, the hero, started to get ready for battle. Then the fiddler, Knight Folker, said, "If it doesn't bother you, Hagen, I would like to keep watch with you tonight, until early morning."
The hero then thanked Folker in loving wise: "Now God of heaven requite you, dear Folker. In all my cares, I would crave none other than you alone, whenever I had need. I shall repay you well, and death hinder me not."
The hero then thanked Folker warmly: "Now, may the God of heaven reward you, dear Folker. In all my troubles, I wouldn't want anyone but you by my side whenever I needed help. I'll repay you handsomely, and nothing will stand in my way."
Both then donned their shining armor and either took his shield in hand, walked out of the house and stood before the door. Thus they cared for the guests in faithful wise. The doughty Folker leaned his good shield against the side of the hall, then turned him back and fetched his fiddle and served his friends as well befit the hero. Beneath the door of the house he sate him down upon a stone; bolder fiddler was there never. When the tones of the strings rang forth so sweetly, the proud wanderers gave Folker thanks. At first the strings twanged so that the whole house resounded; his strength and his skill were both passing great. Then sweeter and softer he began to play, and thus many a care-worn man he lulled to sleep. When he marked that all had fallen asleep, the knight took again his shield and left the room and took his stand before the tower, and there he guarded the wanderers against Kriemhild's men.
Both of them put on their shining armor, grabbed their shields, walked out of the house, and stood at the door. This was how they welcomed their guests faithfully. The brave Folker leaned his shield against the side of the hall, then turned around, grabbed his fiddle, and entertained his friends like a true hero. He sat down on a stone beneath the doorway; there was never a bolder fiddler. As the strings played sweetly, the proud travelers thanked Folker. At first, the strings twanged loudly enough for the whole house to hear; his strength and skill were truly impressive. Then he began to play sweeter and softer, lulling many weary souls to sleep. When he noticed everyone had fallen asleep, the knight took up his shield again, left the room, and stood guard in front of the tower, watching over the travelers against Kriemhild's men.
'Twas about the middle of the night (I know not but what it happed a little earlier), that bold Folker spied the glint of a helmet afar in the darkness. Kriemhild's men would fain have harmed the guests. Then the fiddler spake: "Sir Hagen, my friend, it behooveth us to bear these cares together. Before the house I see armed men stand, and err I not, I ween, they would encounter us!"
It was around midnight (though I’m not sure if it was a little earlier) when brave Folker noticed the shine of a helmet in the distance. Kriemhild's men wanted to attack the guests. Then the fiddler said, "Sir Hagen, my friend, we need to face this together. I see armed men standing outside the house, and if I’m not mistaken, I believe they mean to confront us!"
"Be silent," quoth Hagen, "let them draw nearer before they be ware of us. Then will helmets be dislodged by the swords in the hands of us twain. They will be sent back to Kriemhild in evil plight."
"Be quiet," said Hagen, "let them come closer before they notice us. Then helmets will be knocked off by the swords in our hands. They'll be sent back to Kriemhild in bad shape."
One of the Hunnish warriors (full soon that happed) marked that the door was guarded. How quickly then he spake: "That which we have in mind may not now come to pass. I see the fiddler stand on guard. On his head he weareth a glittering helmet, shining and hard, strong and whole. His armor rings flash out like fire. By him standeth Hagen; in sooth the guests be guarded well."
One of the Hunnish warriors quickly noticed that the door was guarded. He said, "What we have planned might not happen now. I see the fiddler standing guard. He’s wearing a shiny, solid helmet on his head. His armor glints like fire. Hagen stands by him; truly, the guests are well protected."
Straightway they turned again. When Folker saw this, wrathfully he spake to his comrade-at-arms: "Now let me go from the house to the warriors. I would fain put some questions to Lady Kriemhild's men."
Straight away they turned back again. When Folker saw this, he angrily said to his comrade-in-arms: "Now let me leave the house and go to the warriors. I want to ask some questions of Lady Kriemhild's men."
"For my sake, no," quoth Hagen. "If ye leave the house, the doughty knights are like to bring you in such stress with their swords, that I must aid you even should it be the death of all my kin. As soon as we be come into the fray, twain of them, or four, would in a short time run into the house and would bring such scathe upon the sleepers, that we might never cease to mourn."
"For my sake, no," said Hagen. "If you leave the house, the brave knights are likely to put you in such danger with their swords that I must help you, even if it means the death of all my family. As soon as we get into the fight, two or four of them would rush into the house quickly and cause such harm to the sleepers that we would never stop grieving."
Then Folker answered: "Let us bring it to pass that they note that I have seen them, so that Kriemhild's men may not deny that they would fain have acted faithlessly."
Then Folker answered: "Let's make sure they realize that I've seen them, so Kriemhild's men can't deny they wanted to act disloyally."
Straightway Folker then called out to them: "How go ye thus armed, ye doughty knights? Would ye ride to rob, ye men of Kriemhild? Then must ye have the help of me and my comrade-at-arms."
Straightaway, Folker called out to them: "Why are you riding around like that, you brave knights? Are you planning to rob, you men of Kriemhild? Then you’ll need the help of me and my buddy-in-arms."
To this none made reply. Angry grew his mood. "Fy! Ye evil cowards," spake the good knight, "would ye have murdered us asleep? That hath been done full seldom to such good heroes."
To this, no one responded. His mood grew angry. "Ugh! You wicked cowards," said the good knight, "would you have killed us while we slept? That has happened very rarely to such noble heroes."
Then the queen was told that her messengers had compassed naught. Rightly it did vex her, and with wrathful mood she made another plan. Through this brave heroes and good must needs thereafter perish.
Then the queen was informed that her messengers had accomplished nothing. This rightly upset her, and in her anger, she devised another plan. Because of this, brave heroes and good people would have to perish thereafter.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Arras", the capital of Artois in the French Netherlands. In older English "arras" is used also for tapestry.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Arras," the capital of Artois in modern-day northern France. In older English, "arras" also refers to tapestry.
ADVENTURE XXXI. (1) How They Went To Church.
"My coat of mail groweth cold," said Folker. "I ween the night hath run its course. By the air I mark that day is near."
"My armor is getting cold," said Folker. "I think the night has gone on long enough. By the feel of the air, I can tell that day is coming."
Then they waked the many knights who still lay sleeping. The light of dawn shone into the hall upon the strangers. On all sides Hagen gan wake the warriors, if perchance they would fain go to the minster for mass. Men now loudly rang the bells in Christian fashion. Heathens and Christians did not sing alike, so that it was seen full well that they were not as one. Gunther's liegemen now would go to church, and all alike had risen from their beds. The champions laced them into such goodly garments, that never did hero bring better clothes to the land of any king. This vexed Hagen. He spake: "Heroes, ye should wear here other clothes. Certes, ye know full well the tales. Instead of roses, bear weapons in your hands; instead of jeweled chaplets, your bright helms and good, sith ye know full well the wicked Kriemhild's mood. Let me tell you, we must fight to-day, so instead of silken shirts, wear hauberks, and instead of rich cloaks, good shields and broad, so that if any grow angry with you, ye be full armed. Dear my lords, and all my kin and liegemen, go willingly to church and make plaint to the mighty God of your fears and need, for know full sure that death draweth nigh us. Nor must ye forget to confess aught that ye have done and stand full zealously before your God. Of this I warn you, noble knights, unless God in heaven so will, ye'll never more hear mass."
Then they woke the many knights who were still sleeping. The light of dawn shone into the hall on the newcomers. All around, Hagen began to wake the warriors, hoping they would go to the church for mass. Men were now ringing the bells loudly in the Christian way. Heathens and Christians didn't sing the same, so it was clear they weren't united. Gunther's men were now ready to go to church, and everyone had gotten out of bed. The champions dressed them in such fine garments that no hero had ever brought better clothes to any king's land. This annoyed Hagen. He said, "Heroes, you should wear different clothes here. Surely, you know the stories. Instead of roses, carry weapons; instead of jeweled crowns, wear your shiny helmets since you know Kriemhild's wicked nature. Let me tell you, we must fight today, so instead of silk shirts, wear chainmail, and instead of fancy cloaks, take sturdy shields, so if anyone gets angry with you, you'll be fully armed. My dear lords, and all my kin and loyal men, go willingly to church and lay your fears and needs before the mighty God, for know with certainty that death is close. And don't forget to confess everything you've done and stand fully devoted before your God. I warn you, noble knights, unless God in heaven wills it, you'll never hear mass again."
So the princes and their liegemen went to the minster. In the holy churchyard bold Hagen bade them halt, that they might not be parted. He spake: "Of a truth none knoweth what will hap to us from the Huns. Place, my friends, your shields before your feet, and if any proffer you cold greeting, repay it with deep and mortal wounds. That is Hagen's counsel, that ye may so be found as doth befit your honor."
So the princes and their followers went to the church. In the holy graveyard, bold Hagen told them to stop, so they wouldn't be separated. He said, "Truly, no one knows what will happen to us from the Huns. Place your shields in front of your feet, and if anyone offers you a cold greeting, respond with serious and deadly wounds. That's Hagen's advice, so you can be seen as befitting your honor."
Folker and Hagen, the twain, then hied them to the spacious minster. This was done that the queen might press upon them in the crowd. Certes, she was passing grim. Then came the lord of the land and his fair wife, her body adorned with rich apparel; Doughty warriors, too, were seen to walk beside her. One saw the dust rise high from Kriemhild's band. When mighty Etzel spied the kings and their fellowship thus armed, how quick he spake: "Why do I see my friends thus go with helmets? Upon my troth, it grieveth me, and hath any done them aught, I shall gladly make amends, as doth think them good. Hath any made heavy their hearts or mood, I'll show them well, that it doth irk me much. I am ready for whatever they command me."
Folker and Hagen then made their way to the large cathedral. They did this so the queen could approach them in the crowd. Indeed, she looked quite stern. Then came the lord of the land and his beautiful wife, dressed in fine clothes; brave warriors were also seen walking alongside her. The dust could be seen rising high from Kriemhild's group. When the powerful Etzel spotted the kings and their company all armed, he quickly spoke up: "Why do I see my friends going around with helmets on? I swear it troubles me, and if anyone has wronged them, I will gladly make it right, as they see fit. If someone has upset them or brought them down, I will show them that this bothers me greatly. I am ready to do whatever they ask of me."
To this Hagen answered: "None hath done us aught; it is the custom of my lordings that they go armed at all high feasts for full three days. We should tell Etzel, had aught been done us."
To this, Hagen replied, "No one has done anything to us; it's our lords' tradition to be armed at all major feasts for three full days. We should inform Etzel if anything happened to us."
Kriemhild heard full well what Hagen spake. How right hostilely she gazed into his eyes! She would not tell the custom of their land, albeit she had known it long in Burgundy. However grim and strong the hate she bare them, yet had any told Etzel the truth, he would have surely hindered what later happed. Because of their great haughtiness they scorned to tell him. When the great crowd went past with the queen, these twain, Hagen and Folker, would not step back more than two hand-breadths, the which irked the Huns. Forsooth they had to jostle with the lusty heroes. This thought King Etzel's chamberlains not good. Certes, they would have fain angered the champions, but that they durst not before the noble king. So there was much jostling, but nothing more.
Kriemhild clearly heard what Hagen said. How fiercely she looked into his eyes! She wouldn’t reveal the customs of their land, even though she had known them for a long time in Burgundy. Despite the intense hatred she had for them, if anyone had told Etzel the truth, he would have surely stopped what happened later. Because of their arrogance, they refused to tell him. As the large crowd passed by with the queen, Hagen and Folker wouldn’t step back more than two hand-widths, which annoyed the Huns. They had to jostle with the boisterous heroes. The king's chamberlains didn’t approve of this. Indeed, they would have loved to provoke the champions, but they didn’t dare do so in front of the noble king. So there was a lot of jostling, but nothing more.
When they had worshiped God and would hence again, many a Hunnish warrior horsed him passing soon. At Kriemhild's side stood many a comely maid, and well seven thousand knights rode with the queen. Kriemhild with her ladies sate her down at the easements by the side of the mighty Etzel, which was him lief, for they would watch the lusty heroes joust. Ho, what stranger knights rode before them in the court! Then was come the marshal with the squires. Bold Dankwart had taken to him his lord's retainers from the Burgundian land; the steeds of the Nibelungs they found well saddled. When now the kings and their men were come to horse, stalwart Folker gan advise that they should ride a joust after the fashion of their land. At this the heroes rode in lordly wise; none it irked what the knight had counseled. The hurtling and the noise waxed loud, as the many men rode into the broad court. Etzel and Kriemhild themselves beheld the scene. To the jousts were come six hundred knights of Dietrich's men to match the strangers, for they would have pastime with the Burgundians. Fain would they have done it, had he given them leave. Ho, what good champions rode in their train! The tale was told to Sir Dietrich and he forbade the game with Gunther's men; he feared for his liegemen, and well he might.
When they had worshipped God and were about to leave, many Hunnish warriors quickly mounted their horses. At Kriemhild's side stood many beautiful maidens, and seven thousand knights rode with the queen. Kriemhild and her ladies settled down at the openings beside the mighty Etzel, who was pleased, as they wanted to watch the lively heroes joust. Wow, what strange knights rode before them in the court! Then the marshal arrived with the squires. Brave Dankwart had brought his lord's retainers from the Burgundian land; the Nibelung steeds were well saddled. When the kings and their men were mounted, strong Folker suggested they should joust in the style of their land. At this, the heroes rode majestically; no one was bothered by the knight's advice. The clamor and commotion grew loud as many men rode into the wide court. Etzel and Kriemhild themselves witnessed the scene. Six hundred knights from Dietrich's men had come to joust against the strangers, eager for some entertainment with the Burgundians. They would have gladly participated if he had allowed it. Wow, what great champions rode with them! The news reached Sir Dietrich, and he forbade the match with Gunther's men; he was worried for his vassals, and rightly so.
When those of Berne had departed thence, there came the men of Rudeger from Bechelaren, five hundred strong, with shields, riding out before the hall. It would have been lief to the margrave, had they left it undone. Wisely he rode then to them through the press and said to his knights, that they were ware that Gunther's men were evil-minded toward them. If they would leave off the jousting, it would please him much. When now these lusty heroes parted from them, then came those of Thuringia, as we are told, and well a thousand brave men from Denmark. From the tilting one saw many truncheons (2) flying hence. Irnfried and Hawart now rode into the tourney. Proudly those from the Rhine awaited them and offered the men of Thuringia many a joust. Many a lordly shield was riddled by the thrusts. Thither came then Sir Bloedel with three thousand men. Well was he seen of Etzel and Kriemhild, for the knightly sports happed just before the twain. The queen saw it gladly, that the Burgundians might come to grief. Schrutan (3) and Gibecke, Ramung and Hornbog, (4) rode into the tourney in Hunnish wise. To the heroes from Burgundian land they addressed them. High above the roof of the royal hall the spear-shafts whirled. Whatever any there plied, 'twas but a friendly rout. Palace and hall were heard resounding loud through the clashing of the shields of Gunther's men. With great honor his meiny gained the meed. Their pastime was so mickle and so great, that from beneath the housings of the good steeds, which the heroes rode, there flowed the frothy sweat. In haughty wise they encountered with the Huns.
When the people of Berne left, the men of Rudeger arrived from Bechelaren, five hundred strong, with shields, riding out in front of the hall. The margrave would have preferred if they hadn't shown up. He wisely rode through the crowd and told his knights that they should be aware that Gunther's men were hostile toward them. He would appreciate it greatly if they would stop the jousting. As these spirited heroes parted, those from Thuringia arrived, along with about a thousand brave men from Denmark. From the jousting, many sticks were seen flying through the air. Irnfried and Hawart then entered the tournament. The men from the Rhine awaited them proudly and offered many challenges to the Thuringians. Many noble shields were pierced by the strikes. Then Sir Bloedel arrived with three thousand men. Etzel and Kriemhild were pleased to see him, as the knightly games were happening right in front of them. The queen was glad to see that the Burgundians might face defeat. Schrutan, Gibecke, Ramung, and Hornbog rode into the tournament in Hun-like fashion. They addressed the heroes from the Burgundian land. The spear shafts whirled high above the royal hall. Whatever anyone was doing there was just a friendly clash. The palace and hall echoed loudly with the sound of Gunther’s men clashing their shields. With great honor, his followers earned their reward. Their fun was so intense and plentiful that frothy sweat flowed from under the hides of the fine steeds the heroes rode. They boldly faced the Huns.
Then spake the fiddler, Folker the minstrel: "I ween these warriors dare not match us. I've aye heard the tale, that they bear us hate, and forsooth it might never fortune better for them than now." Again Folker spake: "Let our steeds be now led away to their lodgings and let us joust again toward eventide, and there be time. Perchance the queen may accord to the Burgundians the prize."
Then the fiddler, Folker the minstrel, said: "I don’t think these warriors would dare to challenge us. I've always heard that they hate us, and honestly, it couldn't have worked out better for them than now." Folker continued: "Let's take our horses to their stables and plan to joust again in the evening, if we have time. Maybe the queen will award the prize to the Burgundians."
Then one was seen riding hither so proudly, that none of all the Huns could have done the like. Certes, he must have had a sweetheart on the battlements. As well attired he rode as the bride of any noble knight. At sight of him Folker spake again: "How could I give this over? This ladies' darling must have a buffet. None shall prevent me and it shall cost him dear. In truth I reck not, if it vex King Etzel's wife."
Then one was seen riding here so proudly that none of the Huns could have matched it. Surely, he must have had a sweetheart on the battlements. He was dressed as finely as any noble knight's bride. At the sight of him, Folker spoke again: "How could I let this go? This ladies' favorite deserves a slap. No one will stop me, and it will cost him dearly. Honestly, I don't care if it angers King Etzel's wife."
"For my sake, No," spake straightway King Gunther. "The people will blame us, if we encounter them. 'Twill befit us better far, an' we let the Huns begin the strife."
"For my sake, no," said King Gunther right away. "The people will blame us if we run into them. It would be much better for us if we let the Huns start the conflict."
King Etzel was still sitting by the queen.
King Etzel was still sitting next to the queen.
"I'll join you in the tourney," quoth Hagen then. "Let the ladies and the knights behold how we can ride. That will be well, for they'll give no meed to King Gunther's men."
"I'll join you in the tournament," Hagen said then. "Let the ladies and the knights see how we can ride. That will be good, since they won't reward King Gunther's men."
The doughty Folker rode into the lists again, which soon gave many a dame great dole. His spear he thrust through the body of the dapper Hun; this both maid and wife were seen thereafter to bewail. Full hard and fast gan Hagen and his liegemen and sixty of his knights ride towards the fiddler, where the play was on. This Etzel and Kriemhild clearly saw. The three kings would not leave their minstrel without guard amidst the foe. Cunningly a thousand heroes rode; with haughty bearing they did whatso they would. When now the wealthy Hun was slain, men heard his kin cry out and wail. All the courtiers asked: "Who hath done this deed?"
The brave Folker rode into the arena again, which soon made many ladies very upset. He drove his spear through the body of the stylish Hun, causing both maidens and wives to mourn deeply. Hagen and his men, along with sixty of his knights, charged towards the fiddler, where the performance was taking place. Etzel and Kriemhild saw this clearly. The three kings refused to leave their minstrel unprotected among the enemy. Skillfully, a thousand heroes rode forth; with proud attitudes, they did whatever they wanted. When the wealthy Hun was killed, his relatives were heard crying out in grief. All the courtiers asked, "Who did this?"
"That the fiddler did, Folker, the valiant minstrel."
"That’s what the fiddler did, Folker, the brave musician."
The margrave's kindred from the Hunnish land called straightway for their swords and shields, and would fain have done Folker to death. Fast the host gan hasten from the windows. Great rout arose from the folk on every side. The kings and their fellowship, the Burgundian men, alighted before the hall and drove their horses to the rear. Then King Etzel came to part the strife. From the hand of a kinsman of the Hun he wrenched a sturdy weapon and drove them all back again, for full great was his wrath. "Why should my courtesie to these knights go all for naught? Had ye slain this minstrel at my court," spake King Etzel, "'twere evil done. I saw full well how he rode, when he thrust through the Hun, that it happed through stumbling, without any fault of his. Ye must let my guests have peace."
The margrave's relatives from the Hunnish land immediately called for their swords and shields, and were eager to kill Folker. The crowd quickly gathered at the windows. A great commotion erupted from the people on all sides. The kings and their followers, the Burgundian men, dismounted in front of the hall and moved their horses to the back. Then King Etzel came to resolve the conflict. He seized a powerful weapon from a Hun relative and pushed them all back, for he was very angry. "Why should my hospitality to these knights be wasted?" King Etzel said. "If you had killed this minstrel in my court, that would be wrong. I clearly saw how he rode when he pushed through the Hun; it happened due to an accident, without any fault of his. You must allow my guests to have peace."
Thus he became their safe-guard. To the stalls men led away the steeds; many a varlet they had, who served them well with zeal in every service. The host now hied him to his palace with his friends, nor would he let any man grow wroth again. Then men set up the tables and bare forth water for the guests. Forsooth the men from the Rhine had there enow of stalwart foes. 'Twas long before the lords were seated.
Thus he became their protector. The men brought the horses to the stalls; they had many servants who helped them eagerly in every task. The host then hurried to his palace with his friends, and he wouldn't allow anyone to become angry again. Then the men set up the tables and brought water for the guests. Indeed, the men from the Rhine had plenty of strong enemies there. It took a while before the lords were seated.
Meanwhile Kriemhild's fears did trouble her passing sore. She spake: "My lord of Berne, I seek thy counsel, help, and favor, for mine affairs do stand in anxious wise."
Meanwhile, Kriemhild's fears weighed heavily on her. She said, "My lord of Berne, I need your advice, help, and support, for my situation is very troubling."
Then Hildebrand, a worshipful knight, made answer to her: "And any slay the Nibelungs for the sake of any hoard, he will do it without my aid. It may well repent him, for they be still unconquered, these doughty and lusty knights."
Then Hildebrand, a loyal knight, replied to her: "Anyone who decides to kill the Nibelungs for the sake of treasure will do it without my help. It might make him regret it, because those bold and strong knights are still undefeated."
Then Spake Sir Dietrich in his courteous wise: "Let be this wish, O mighty queen. Thy kinsmen have done me naught of wrong, that I should crave to match these valiant knights in strife. Thy request honoreth thee little, most noble queen, that thou dost plot against the life of thy kinsfolk. They came in hope of friendship to this land. Siegfried will not be avenged by Dietrich's hand."
Then Sir Dietrich spoke respectfully: "Let go of this wish, O mighty queen. Your relatives have done me no wrong, so I have no reason to challenge these brave knights. Your request does not honor you, most noble queen, as you plan against the lives of your own kin. They came here hoping for friendship. Siegfried will not be avenged by Dietrich."
When she found no whit of faithlessness in the lord of Berne, quickly she promised Bloedel a broad estate, that Nudung (5) owned aforetime. Later he was slain by Hagen, so that he quite forgot the gift. She spake: "Thou must help me, Sir Bloedel, forsooth my foes be in this house, who slew Siegfried, my dear husband. Ever will I serve him, that helpeth me avenge this deed."
When she saw no sign of betrayal in the lord of Berne, she quickly promised Bloedel a large estate that Nudung had owned before. Later, Nudung was killed by Hagen, so he completely forgot about the promise. She said, "You must help me, Sir Bloedel, because my enemies are in this house, the ones who killed Siegfried, my beloved husband. I will always serve the one who helps me avenge this act."
To this Bloedel replied: "My lady, now may ye know that because of Etzel I dare not, in sooth, advise to hatred against them, for he is fain to see thy kinsmen at his court. The king would ne'er forget it of me, and I did them aught of wrong."
To this, Bloedel replied: "My lady, you should know that because of Etzel, I truly cannot advise you to hate them. He is eager to have your relatives at his court. The king would never forgive me if I did them any wrong."
"Not so, Sir Bloedel, for I shall ever be thy friend. Certes, I'll give thee silver and gold as guerdon and a comely maid, the wife of Nudung, whose lovely body thou mayst fain caress. I'll give thee his land and all his castles, too, so that thou mayst always live in joy, Sir knight, if thou dost now win the lands where Nudung dwelt. Faithfully will I keep, whatso I vow to thee to-day."
"Not at all, Sir Bloedel, because I will always be your friend. Definitely, I’ll give you silver and gold as a reward and a beautiful maiden, Nudung's wife, whose lovely body you may happily embrace. I’ll give you his land and all his castles, so that you can always live in happiness, Sir knight, if you now win the lands where Nudung lived. I will faithfully keep whatever I promise you today."
When Sir Bloedel heard the guerdon, and that the lady through her beauty would befit him well, he weened to serve the lovely queen in strife. Because of this the champion must needs lose his life. To the queen he spake: "Betake you again to the hall, and before any be aware, I'll begin a fray and Hagen must atone for what he hath done you. I'll deliver to you King Gunther's liegeman bound. Now arm you, my men," spake Bloedel. "We must hasten to the lodgings of the foes, for King Etzel's wife doth crave of me this service, wherefore we heroes must risk our lives."
When Sir Bloedel heard the reward, and that the lady would suit him well with her beauty, he decided to serve the lovely queen in battle. Because of this, the champion would have to lose his life. To the queen he said: "Go back to the hall, and before anyone notices, I'll start a fight and Hagen must pay for what he did to you. I'll bring you King Gunther's loyal follower, tied up. Now gear up, my men," said Bloedel. "We need to hurry to the enemies' quarters, for King Etzel's wife has asked me for this service, and so we heroes must risk our lives."
When the queen left Bloedel in lust of battle, she went to table with King Etzel and his men. Evil counsels had she held against the guests. Since the strife could be started in no other wise (Kriemhild's ancient wrong still lay deep buried in her heart), she bade King Etzel's son be brought to table. How might a woman ever do more ghastly deed for vengeance' sake? Four of Etzel's men went hence anon and bare Ortlieb, (6) the young prince, to the lordings' table, where Hagen also sat. Because of this the child must needs die through Hagen's mortal hate.
When the queen left Bloedel eager for battle, she sat down to eat with King Etzel and his men. She had been plotting against the guests. Since she could find no other way to start the conflict (Kriemhild's old grievance still burned deep in her heart), she ordered that King Etzel's son be brought to the table. What worse act could a woman commit for the sake of revenge? Four of Etzel's men quickly went and brought Ortlieb, the young prince, to the lord's table, where Hagen was also seated. Because of this, the child was destined to die because of Hagen's deep-seated hatred.
When now the mighty king beheld his son, kindly he spake to the kinsmen of his wife: "Now see, my friends, this is the only son of me and of your sister. This may be of profit to you all, for if he take after his kinsmen, he'll become a valiant man, mighty and noble, strong and fashioned fair. Twelve lands will I give him, and I live yet a while. Thus may the hand of young Ortlieb serve you well. I do therefore beseech you, dear friends of mine, that when ye ride again to your lands upon the Rhine, ye take with you your sister's son and act full graciously toward the child, and bring him up in honor till he become a man. Hath any done you aught in all these lands, he'll help you to avenge it, when he groweth up."
When the mighty king saw his son, he kindly spoke to his wife's relatives: "Now look, my friends, this is my only son and your sister's. This could benefit you all, because if he takes after his relatives, he'll grow up to be a brave, powerful, noble, and attractive man. I will give him twelve lands while I still live. May young Ortlieb's strength serve you well. So I ask you, my dear friends, that when you ride back to your lands along the Rhine, you take your sister's son with you, treat him kindly, and raise him with honor until he becomes a man. If anyone has wronged you in these lands, he will help you get revenge when he grows up."
This speech was also heard by Kriemhild, King Etzel's wife.
This speech was also heard by Kriemhild, the wife of King Etzel.
"These knights might well trust him," quoth Hagen, "if he grew to be a man, but the young prince doth seem so fey, (7) that I shall seldom be seen to ride to Ortlieb's court."
"These knights might as well trust him," said Hagen, "if he matures into a man, but the young prince seems so strange that I will rarely be seen riding to Ortlieb's court."
The king glanced at Hagen, for much the speech did irk him; and though the gentle prince said not a word, it grieved his heart and made him heavy of his mood. Nor was Hagen's mind now bent on pastime. But all the lordings and the king were hurt by what Hagen had spoken of the child; it vexed them sore, that they were forced to hear it. They wot not the things as yet, which should happen to them through this warrior.
The king looked at Hagen, as the speech annoyed him greatly; and although the gentle prince said nothing, it weighed heavily on his heart and darkened his mood. Hagen wasn't focused on any fun either. All the lords and the king were upset by what Hagen had said about the child; it troubled them deeply that they had to hear it. They didn't yet know the events that would unfold because of this warrior.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Adventure XXXI". This adventure is of late origin, being found only in our poem. See the introduction. (2) "Truncheons", see Adventure II, note 8. (3) "Schrutan". This name does not occur elsewhere. Piper suggests, that perhaps a Scotchman is meant, as "Skorottan" appears in the "Thidreksaga", chap. 28, as an ancient name of Scotland. (4) "Gibecke", "Ramung" and "Hornbog", see Adventure XXII, notes 4 and 5. (5) "Nudung", see Adventure XXVII, note 3. (6) "Ortlieb". In the "Thidreksaga" Etzel's son is called Aldrian. There, however, he is killed because he strikes Hagen in the face, here in revenge for the killing of the Burgundian footmen. (7) "Fey", see Adventure V, note 2.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Adventure XXXI". This adventure is of recent origin, appearing only in our poem. See the introduction. (2) "Truncheons", see Adventure II, note 8. (3) "Schrutan". This name is not found elsewhere. Piper suggests that it might refer to a Scottish person, as "Skorottan" appears in the "Thidreksaga", chap. 28, as an ancient name for Scotland. (4) "Gibecke", "Ramung" and "Hornbog", see Adventure XXII, notes 4 and 5. (5) "Nudung", see Adventure XXVII, note 3. (6) "Ortlieb". In the "Thidreksaga" Etzel's son is called Aldrian. However, he is killed there because he strikes Hagen in the face, while here it is in retaliation for the death of the Burgundian footmen. (7) "Fey", see Adventure V, note 2.
ADVENTURE XXXII (1) How Bloedel Was Slain.
Full ready were now Bloedel's warriors. A thousand hauberks strong, they hied them to where Dankwart sate at table with the squires. Then the very greatest hate arose among the heroes. When Sir Bloedel drew near the tables, Dankwart, the marshal, greeted him in courteous wise. "Welcome, Sir Bloedel, in our house. In truth me-wondereth at thy coming. What doth it mean?"
Full ready were now Bloedel's warriors. A thousand hauberks strong, they headed to where Dankwart sat at the table with the squires. Then the greatest hatred arose among the heroes. When Sir Bloedel drew near the tables, Dankwart, the marshal, greeted him courteously. "Welcome, Sir Bloedel, to our house. I truly wonder at your arrival. What does it mean?"
"Forsooth, thou needst not greet me," so spake Bloedel; "for this coming of mine doth mean thine end. Because of Hagen, thy brother, by whom Siegfried was slain, thou and many other knights must suffer here among the Huns."
"For sure, you don't need to greet me," Bloedel said; "because my arrival means your end. Because of Hagen, your brother, who killed Siegfried, you and many other knights must suffer here among the Huns."
"Not so, Sir Bloedel," quoth Dankwart, "else this journey to your court might rue us sore. I was but a little child when Siegfried lost his life. I know not what blame King Etzel's wife could put on me."
"That's not true, Sir Bloedel," said Dankwart, "or else this trip to your court could really hurt us. I was just a little kid when Siegfried died. I don’t know what blame King Etzel's wife could place on me."
"Of a truth, I wot not how to tell you of these tales; thy kinsmen, Gunther and Hagen, did the deed. Now ward you, ye wanderers, ye may not live. With your death must ye become Kriemhild's pledge."
"Honestly, I don’t know how to tell you these stories; your relatives, Gunther and Hagen, did it. Now listen, you wanderers, you might not survive. With your death, you must become Kriemhild's vow."
"And ye will not turn you," quoth Dankwart, "then do my entreaties rue me; they had better far been spared."
"And you will not change your mind," said Dankwart, "then I regret my pleas; it would have been better if I had kept them to myself."
The doughty knight and brave sprang up from the table; a sharp weapon, mickle and long, he drew and dealt Bloedel so fierce a sword-stroke that his head lay straightway at his feet. "Let that be thy marriage morning gift," (2) spake Dankwart, the knight, "for Nudung's bride, whom thou wouldst cherish with thy love. They call betroth her to another man upon the morn. Should he crave the dowry, 'twill be given to him eftsoon." A faithful Hun had told him that the queen did plan against them such grievous wrongs.
The brave knight jumped up from the table; he drew a sharp, long weapon and struck Bloedel with such force that his head fell right off. "Let this be your wedding gift," said Dankwart, the knight, "for Nudung's bride, whom you wanted to love. They're planning to betroth her to another man in the morning. If he asks for the dowry, he’ll get it soon enough." A loyal Hun had informed him that the queen was plotting some serious wrongs against them.
When Bloedel's men beheld their lord lie slain, no longer would they stand this from the guests. With uplifted swords they rushed, grim of mood, upon the youthful squires. Many a one did rue this later. Loudly Dankwart called to all the fellowship: "Ye see well, noble squires, how matters stand. Now ward you, wanderers! Forsooth we have great need, though Kriemhild asked us here in right friendly wise."
When Bloedel's men saw their lord lying dead, they could no longer tolerate this from the guests. With their swords raised, they charged angrily at the young squires. Many would later regret this. Dankwart shouted to all the group: "You can see, noble squires, how things are. Now be on guard, travelers! We truly have great need, even though Kriemhild invited us here in a friendly manner."
Those that had no sword reached down in front of the benches and lifted many a long footstool by its legs. The Burgundian squires would now abide no longer, but with the heavy stools they dealt many bruises through the helmets. How fiercely the stranger youths did ward them! Out of the house they drove at last the men-at-arms, but five hundred of them, or better, stayed behind there dead. The fellowship was red and wet with blood.
Those without swords reached down in front of the benches and picked up several long footstools by their legs. The Burgundian squires could no longer hold back and used the heavy stools to strike many blows through the helmets. The young strangers fought back fiercely! Eventually, they pushed the men-at-arms out of the house, but five hundred of them, or even more, were left dead inside. The scene was soaked and stained with blood.
These grievous tales were told now to Etzel's knights; grim was their sorrow, that Bloedel and his men were slain. This Hagen's brother and his squires had done. Before the king had learned it, full two thousand Huns or more armed them through hatred and hied them to the squires (this must needs be), and of the fellowship they left not one alive. The faithless Huns brought a mickle band before the house. Well the strangers stood their ground, but what booted their doughty prowess? Dead they all must lie. Then in a few short hours there rose a fearful dole. Now ye may hear wonders of a monstrous thing. Nine thousand yeomen lay there slain and thereto twelve good knights of Dankwart's men. One saw him stand alone still by the foe. The noise was hushed, the din had died away, when Dankwart, the hero, gazed over his shoulders. He spake: "Woe is me, for the friends whom I have lost! Now must I stand, alas, alone among my foes."
These tragic stories were now shared with Etzel's knights; they were deeply saddened by the death of Bloedel and his men. It was Hagen’s brother and his squires who were responsible. Before the king was informed, over two thousand Huns, fueled by hatred, armed themselves and rushed toward the squires (this was inevitable), leaving no one from their group alive. The treacherous Huns brought a huge force to the house. The strangers held their ground well, but what good was their brave effort? They all had to die. Then, in just a few short hours, a terrible mourning arose. Now you can hear about something truly horrifying. Nine thousand warriors lay slain, along with twelve good knights from Dankwart’s men. One could see him still standing alone against the enemy. The noise had quieted, the clamor had faded, when Dankwart, the hero, looked over his shoulder. He spoke: "Woe is me, for the friends I have lost! Now I must stand alone among my foes."
Upon his single person the sword-strokes fell thick and fast. The wife of many a hero must later mourn for this. Higher he raised his shield, the thong he lowered; the rings of many an armor he made to drip with blood. "Woe is me of all this sorrow," quoth Aldrian's son. (3) "Give way now, Hunnish warriors, and let me out into the breeze, that the air may cool me, fight-weary man."
Upon him, the sword strikes came down hard and fast. Many a hero's wife will mourn for this later. He raised his shield higher, lowered the thong; the rings of many pieces of armor dripped with blood. "Woe is me for all this sorrow," said Aldrian's son. (3) "Step aside now, Hunnish warriors, and let me out into the fresh air, so that the breeze can cool me, the weary fighter."
Then men saw the warrior walk forth in full lordly wise. As the strife-weary man sprang from the house, how many added swords rang on his helmet! Those that had not seen what wonders his hand had wrought sprang towards the hero of the Burgundian land. "Now would to God," quoth Dankwart, "that I might find a messenger who could let my brother Hagen know I stand in such a plight before these knights. He would help me hence, or lie dead at my side."
Then the men saw the warrior walk out in a proud manner. As the exhausted man jumped out of the house, so many swords clashed against his helmet! Those who hadn’t seen the amazing things he had done rushed toward the hero of the Burgundian land. "I wish to God," said Dankwart, "that I could find a messenger who could tell my brother Hagen that I’m in such a tough situation before these knights. He would help me get out of here, or die beside me."
Then spake the Hunnish champions: "Thou must be the messenger thyself, when we bear thee hence dead before thy brother. For the first time Gunther's vassal will then become acquaint with grief. Passing great scathe hast thou done King Etzel here."
Then spoke the Hunnish champions: "You must be the messenger yourself, when we take you away dead before your brother. For the first time, Gunther's vassal will then know grief. You have caused great harm to King Etzel here."
Quoth he: "Now give over these threats and stand further back, or I'll wot the armor rings of some with blood. I'll tell the tale at court myself and make plaint to my lords of my great dole."
Quoth he: "Now stop with the threats and step back, or I'll know the armor rings of some with blood. I'll tell the story in court myself and complain to my lords about my great pain."
So sorely he dismayed King Etzel's men that they durst not withstand him with their swords, so they shot such great store of darts into his shield that he must needs lay it from his hand for very heaviness. Then they weened to overpower him, sith he no longer bare a shield. Ho, what deep wounds he struck them through their helmets! From this many a brave man was forced to reel before him, and bold Dankwart gained thereby great praise. From either side they sprang upon him, but in truth a many of them entered the fray too soon. Before his foes he walked, as doth a boar to the woods before the dogs. How might he be more brave? His path was ever wet with reeking blood. Certes, no single champion might ever fight better with his foes than he had done. Men now saw Hagen's brother go to court in lordly wise. Sewers (4) and cupbearers heard the ring of swords, and full many a one cast from his hand the drink and whatever food he bare to court. Enow strong foes met Dankwart at the stairs.
He scared King Etzel's men so much that they dared not confront him with their swords, so they shot so many darts at his shield that he had to drop it due to its weight. Then they thought they could overpower him since he no longer had a shield. Oh, the deep wounds he dealt them through their helmets! Because of this, many brave men were forced to stagger back, and bold Dankwart earned great praise. They charged at him from both sides, but many of them actually jumped in too early. He walked before his enemies like a boar in the woods before the hunting dogs. How could he be any braver? His path was always soaked with dripping blood. Truly, no single champion could ever fight better against his foes than he had done. People now saw Hagen's brother going to court in a noble way. Servants and cupbearers heard the clash of swords, and many dropped their drinks and any food they were carrying to court. Plenty of strong enemies confronted Dankwart at the stairs.
"How now, ye sewers," spake the weary knight. "Forsooth ye should serve well the guests and bear to the lords good cheer and let me bring the tidings to my dear masters."
"Hey, you servants," said the tired knight. "You really should take good care of the guests and bring the lords some good spirits while I deliver the news to my dear masters."
Those that sprang towards him on the steps to show their prowess, he dealt so heavy a sword-stroke, that for fear they must needs stand further back. His mighty strength wrought mickle wonders.
Those who rushed towards him on the steps to show off their skills, he struck with such a heavy blow from his sword that they had to step back in fear. His incredible strength created many amazing feats.
ENDNOTES: (1) Adventure XXXII. The details of the following scenes differ materially in the various sources. A comparative study of them will be found in the works of Wilmanns and Boer. (2) "Marriage morning gift" (M.H.G. "morgengabe") was given by the bridegroom to the bride on the morning after the wedding. See Adventure XIX, note 1. (3) "Aldrian's son", i.e., Dankwart. (4) "Sewers" (O.F. "asseour", M.L. "adsessor" 'one who sets the table'; cf. F. "asseoir" 'to set', 'place', Lat. "ad sedere"), older English for an upper servant who brought on and removed the dishes from the table.
ENDNOTES: (1) Adventure XXXII. The details of the following scenes vary significantly among different sources. A comparative analysis can be found in the works of Wilmanns and Boer. (2) The "morning gift" (M.H.G. "morgengabe") was given by the groom to the bride on the morning after the wedding. See Adventure XIX, note 1. (3) "Aldrian's son," referring to Dankwart. (4) "Sewers" (O.F. "asseour", M.L. "adsessor" meaning 'one who sets the table'; cf. F. "asseoir" meaning 'to set', 'place', Lat. "ad sedere"), an older term in English for a servant who brought in and took away the dishes from the table.
ADVENTURE XXXIII. How The Burgundians Fought The Huns.
When brave Dankwart was come within the door, he bade King Etzel's meiny step aside. His garments dripped with blood and in his hand he bare unsheathed a mighty sword. Full loud he called out to the knight: "Brother Hagen, ye sit all too long, forsooth. To you and to God in heaven do I make plaint of our woe. Our knights and squires all lie dead within their lodgements."
When brave Dankwart entered the door, he told King Etzel's people to step aside. His clothes were soaked with blood, and he held a big, unsheathed sword in his hand. He shouted loudly to the knight: "Brother Hagen, you're sitting here way too long, for real. I complain to you and to God in heaven about our misery. Our knights and squires are all dead in their quarters."
He called in answer: "Who hath done this deed?"
He called out in reply, "Who did this?"
"That Sir Bloedel hath done with his liegemen, but he hath paid for it dearly, as I can tell you, for with mine own hands I struck off his head."
"That Sir Bloedel has finished with his followers, but he has paid for it dearly, as I can tell you, because with my own hands I took off his head."
"It is but little scathe," quoth Hagen, "if one can only say of a knight that he hath lost his life at a warrior's hands. Stately dames shall mourn him all the less. Now tell me, brother Dankwart, how comes it that ye be so red of hue? Ye suffer from wounds great dole, I ween. If there be any in the land that hath done you this, 'twill cost his life, and the foul fiend save him not."
"It’s hardly a big deal," Hagen said, "if all you can say about a knight is that he lost his life at the hands of another warrior. The noble ladies will mourn him less. Now tell me, brother Dankwart, why do you look so pale? I suspect you’re suffering greatly from your wounds. If someone in this land is responsible for this, it will cost them their life, and may the devil save them not."
"Ye see me safe and sound; my weeds alone are wet with blood. This hath happed from wounds of other men, of whom I have slain so many a one to-day that, had I to swear it, I could not tell the tale."
"You see me safe and sound; my clothes are the only thing stained with blood. This has happened from the wounds of other men, of whom I've killed so many today that, if I had to swear to it, I couldn't even tell the story."
"Brother Dankwart," he spake, "guard us the door and let not a single Hun go forth. I will hold speech with the warriors, as our need constraineth us, for our meiny lieth dead before them, undeserved."
"Brother Dankwart," he said, "watch the door and don't let a single Hun get away. I will talk to the warriors, as we need to, because our people lie dead in front of them, without cause."
"If I must be chamberlain," quoth the valiant man, "I well wet how to serve such mighty kings and will guard the stairway, as doth become mine honors." Naught could have been more loth to Kriemhild's knights.
"If I have to be chamberlain," said the brave man, "I know well how to serve such great kings and will guard the staircase, as is fitting for my honor." Nothing could have been more displeasing to Kriemhild's knights.
"Much it wondereth me," spake Hagen, "what the Hunnish knights be whispering in here. I ween, they'd gladly do without the one that standeth at the door, and who told the courtly tale to us Burgundians. Long since I have heard it said of Kriemhild, that she would not leave unavenged her dole of heart. Now let us drink to friendship (1) and pay for the royal wine. The young lord of the Huns shall be the first."
"Much it surprises me," said Hagen, "what the Hunnish knights are whispering about in here. I bet they'd happily do without the one standing at the door, who told the noble story to us Burgundians. I've long heard it said that Kriemhild wouldn't let her heartache go unavenged. Now let’s toast to friendship (1) and pay for the royal wine. The young lord of the Huns will be the first."
Then the good knight Hagen smote the child Ortlieb, so that the blood spurted up the sword towards his hand and the head fell into the lap of the queen. At this there began a murdering, grim and great, among the knights. Next he dealt the master who taught the child a fierce sword-stroke with both his hands, so that his head fell quickly beneath the table to the ground. A piteous meed it was, which he meted out to the master. Hagen then spied a gleeman sitting at King Etzel's board. In his wrath he hied him thither and struck off his right hand upon the fiddle. "Take this as message to the Burgundian land."
Then the noble knight Hagen struck the child Ortlieb, causing blood to spray up the sword towards his hand, and the head fell into the queen's lap. This sparked a brutal and fierce battle among the knights. Next, he delivered a powerful blow to the master who taught the child, swiftly severing his head from his body beneath the table and onto the ground. It was a pitiful fate for the master. Hagen then noticed a minstrel sitting at King Etzel's table. In his anger, he rushed over and chopped off the minstrel's right hand while he was playing the fiddle. "Take this as a message to the Burgundian land."
"Woe is me of my hand," spake the minstrel Werbel. "Sir Hagen of Troneg, what had I done to you? I came in good faith to your masters' land. How can I now thrum the tunes, sith I have lost my hand?"
"Woe is me for my hand," said the minstrel Werbel. "Sir Hagen of Troneg, what did I do to you? I came in good faith to your masters' land. How can I now play the tunes, since I have lost my hand?"
Little recked Hagen, played he nevermore. In the hall he dealt out fierce deadly wounds to Etzel's warriors, passing many of whom he slew. Enow of folk in the house he did to death. The doughty Folker now sprang up from the board; loud rang in his hands his fiddle bow. Rudely did Gunther's minstrel play. Ho, what foes he made him among the valiant Huns! The three noble kings, too, sprang up from the table. Gladly would they have parted the fray, or ever greater scathe was done. With all their wit they could not hinder it, when Folker and Hagen gan rage so sore. When that the lord of the Rhine beheld the fray unparted, the prince dealt his foes many gaping wounds himself through the shining armor rings. That he was a hero of his hands, he gave great proof. Then the sturdy Gernot joined the strife. Certes, he did many a hero of the Huns to death with a sharp sword, the which Rudeger had given him. Mighty wounds he dealt King Etzel's warriors. Now the young son of Lady Uta rushed to the fray. Gloriously his sword rang on the helmets of Etzel's warriors from the Hunnish land. Full mickle wonders were wrought by bold Giselher's hand. But how so doughty they all were, the kings and their liegemen, yet Folker was seen to stand before them all against the foe; a good hero he. Many a one he made to fall in his blood through wounds. Etzel's men did fend them, too, full well, yet one saw the strangers go hewing with their gleaming swords through the royal hall and on every side was heard great sound of wail. Those without would now fain be with their friends within, but at the entrance towers they found small gain. Those within had gladly been without the hall, but Dankwart let none go either up or down the steps. Therefore there rose before the towers a mighty press, and helmets rang loudly from the sword-blows. Bold Dankwart came into great stress thereby; this his brother feared, as his loyalty did bid him.
Hagen didn’t care, he just kept playing. In the hall, he dealt deadly blows to Etzel's warriors, killing many as he passed. He took a lot of lives in that house. The brave Folker sprang up from the table; his fiddle bow rang loudly in his hands. Gunther's minstrel played harshly. Wow, he made quite a few enemies among the brave Huns! The three noble kings also got up from the table. They would have gladly ended the fight before it got worse. But despite their best efforts, they couldn’t stop Folker and Hagen when they were in such a rage. When the lord of the Rhine saw the fight was still going on, he dealt his foes deep wounds through their shining armor. He proved he was a true hero with his strength. Then the sturdy Gernot joined the battle. Indeed, he killed many of the Huns with a sharp sword that Rudeger had given him. He dealt mighty wounds to King Etzel's warriors. Then the young son of Lady Uta rushed into the fight. His sword rang gloriously against the helmets of Etzel's warriors from the Hunnish land. Bold Giselher accomplished many wonders with his hand. Yet, despite how brave they all were, the kings and their followers, Folker stood ahead, a true hero against the enemy. He took many down with his wounds. Etzel's men fought well too, but the outsiders could be seen cutting through the royal hall with their gleaming swords, and everywhere there was a loud sound of mourning. Those outside wanted to join their friends inside, but at the entrance, they found little success. Those inside would have preferred to be outside the hall, but Dankwart wouldn’t let anyone go up or down the steps. As a result, there was a great crowd in front of the towers, and helmets rang loudly from the sword blows. Bold Dankwart found himself in great trouble because of this; his brother feared for him, as his loyalty demanded.
Loudly then Hagen called to Folker: "See ye yonder, comrade, my brother stand before the Hunnish warriors amid a rain of blows? Friend, save my brother, or ever we lose the knight."
Loudly then Hagen called to Folker: "Do you see over there, buddy, my brother standing in front of the Hunnish warriors taking a beating? Friend, save my brother, or we’ll lose the knight for good."
"That will I surely," quoth the minstrel, and through the palace he went a-fiddling, his stout sword ringing often in his hand. Great thanks were tendered by the warriors from the Rhine. Bold Folker spake to Dankwart: "Great discomfiture have ye suffered to-day, therefore your brother bade me hasten to your aid. Will ye stand without, so will I stand within."
"Of course I will," said the minstrel, and he walked through the palace playing his fiddle, his sturdy sword clanging in his hand. The warriors from the Rhine expressed their gratitude. Bold Folker said to Dankwart: "You’ve faced a tough time today, so your brother asked me to come quickly to help you. If you stay outside, I’ll stay inside."
Sturdy Dankwart stood without the door and guarded the staircase against whoever came, wherefore men heard the swords resound in the heroes' hands. Folker of Burgundy land performed the same within. Across the press the bold fiddler cried: "Friend Hagen, the hall is locked; forsooth King Etzel's door is bolted well. The hands of two heroes guard it, as with a thousand bars." When Hagen of Troneg beheld the door so well defended, the famous hero and good slung his shield upon his back and gan avenge the wrongs that had been done him there. His foes had now no sort of hope to live.
Sturdy Dankwart stood by the door, guarding the staircase against anyone who approached, which is why men heard the swords clashing in the heroes' hands. Folker of Burgundy was doing the same inside. Across the crowd, the bold fiddler shouted, "Friend Hagen, the hall is locked; indeed, King Etzel's door is bolted tight. Two heroes are guarding it as if it had a thousand locks." When Hagen of Troneg saw the door so well defended, the famous hero quickly strapped his shield on his back and sought to avenge the wrongs done to him there. His enemies had no hope of survival now.
When now the lord of Berne, the king of the Amelungs, (2) beheld aright that the mighty Hagen broke so many a helm, upon a bench he sprang and spake: "Hagen poureth out the very worst of drinks."
When the lord of Berne, the king of the Amelungs, (2) saw that the powerful Hagen was breaking so many helmets, he jumped up on a bench and said: "Hagen is serving the worst drinks."
The host, too, was sore adread, as behooved him now, for his life was hardly safe from these his foes. O how many dear friends were snatched away before his eyes! He sate full anxious; what booted it him that he was king? Haughty Kriemhild now cried aloud to Dietrich: "Pray help me hence alive, most noble knight, by the virtues of all the princes of the Amelung land. If Hagen reach me, I shall grasp death by the hand."
The host was really scared, as he should be, because his life was hardly safe from his enemies. Oh, how many close friends had been taken away right in front of him! He sat there, filled with anxiety; what good was it to be king? Proud Kriemhild called out to Dietrich: "Please help me escape alive, noble knight, by the virtues of all the princes from the Amelung land. If Hagen gets to me, I will meet death head-on."
"How shall I help you, noble queen?" spake Sir Dietrich. "I fear for myself in sooth. These men of Gunther be so passing wroth that at this hour I cannot guard a soul."
"How can I assist you, noble queen?" said Sir Dietrich. "I truly fear for my safety. These men of Gunther are so incredibly angry that at this moment I cannot protect anyone."
"Nay, not so, Sir Dietrich, noble knight and good. Let thy chivalrous mood appear to-day and help me hence, or I shall die." Passing great cause had Kriemhild for this fear.
"Nah, not really, Sir Dietrich, noble knight and good. Show your chivalrous spirit today and help me out, or I’ll die." Kriemhild had plenty of reasons to be afraid.
"I'll try to see if I may help you, for it is long since that I have soon so many good knights so bitterly enraged. Of a truth I see blood spurting through the helmets from the swords."
"I'll see if I can help you because it’s been a while since I've seen so many good knights so angrily upset. Honestly, I can see blood splattering out from the helmets because of the swords."
Loudly the chosen knight gan call, so that his voice rang forth as from a bison's horn, until the broad castle resounded with his force. Sir Dietrich's strength was passing great in truth.
The chosen knight called out loudly, his voice booming like a bison's horn, until the entire castle echoed with his power. Sir Dietrich's strength was truly extraordinary.
When Gunther heard this man cry out in the heated strife, he began to heed. He spake: "Dietrich's voice hath reached mine ears, I ween our champions have bereft him of some friend to-day. I see him on the table, he doth beckon with his hand. Ye friends and kinsmen from Burgundian land, give over the strife. Let's hear and see what here hath fortuned to the knight from my men-at-arms."
When Gunther heard this man shout in the heated conflict, he started to pay attention. He said, "I believe Dietrich's voice has reached me; I think our champions have taken away a friend of his today. I see him on the table, he is waving his hand. You friends and relatives from Burgundian land, stop the fighting. Let's find out what has happened to the knight from my soldiers."
When Gunther thus begged and bade in the stress of the fray, they sheathed their swords. Passing great was his power, so that none struck a blow. Soon enow he asked the tidings of the knight of Berne. He spake: "Most noble Dietrich, what hath happed to you through these my friends? I am minded to do you remedy and to make amends. If any had done you aught, 'twould grieve me sore."
When Gunther pleaded and asked in the midst of battle, they put away their swords. His influence was so great that no one attacked. Soon after, he inquired about the news of the knight of Berne. He said: "Most honorable Dietrich, what has happened to you because of my friends? I want to help you and make things right. If anyone has wronged you, it pains me greatly."
Then spake Sir Dietrich: "Naught hath happed to me, but I pray you, let me leave this hall and this fierce strife under your safe-guard, with my men. For this favor I will serve you ever."
Then spoke Sir Dietrich: "Nothing has happened to me, but I ask you, let me leave this hall and this fierce conflict under your protection, along with my men. For this favor, I will serve you always."
"How entreat ye now so soon," quoth Wolfhart (3) then. "Forsooth the fiddler hath not barred the door so strong, but what we may open it enow to let us pass."
"How do you ask so soon," said Wolfhart (3) then. "The fiddler hasn’t locked the door so tightly that we can’t open it enough to get through."
"Hold your tongue," spake Sir Dietrich; "the devil a whit have ye ever done."
"Hold your tongue," said Sir Dietrich; "you haven't done anything at all."
Then: spake King Gunther: "I will grant your boon. Lead from the hall as few or as many as ye will, save my foes alone; they must remain within. Right ill have they treated me in the Hunnish land."
Then King Gunther said, "I will grant your request. Take from the hall as few or as many as you want, except for my enemies; they must stay inside. They've treated me really badly in the Hunnish land."
When Dietrich heard these words, he placed his arm around the high-born queen, whose fear was passing great. On his other side he led King Etzel with him hence; with Dietrich there also went six hundred stately men.
When Dietrich heard this, he put his arm around the noble queen, who was very scared. On his other side, he took King Etzel with him; along with Dietrich were also six hundred impressive men.
Then spake the noble Margrave Rudeger: "Shall any other who would gladly serve you come from this hall, let us hear the tale, and lasting peace shall well befit good friends."
Then spoke the noble Margrave Rudeger: "If anyone else who would gladly serve you comes from this hall, let us hear the story, and lasting peace will suit good friends well."
To this Giselher of the Burgundian land replied: "Peace and friendship be granted you by us, sith ye are constant in your fealty. Ye and all your men, ye may go hence fearlessly with these your friends."
To this, Giselher of the Burgundian land replied: "Peace and friendship be given to you by us, since you remain loyal. You and all your men can leave here safely with your friends."
When Sir Rudeger voided the hall, there followed him, all told, five hundred men or more, kinsmen and vassals of the lord of Bechelaren, from whom King Gunther later gained great scathe. Then a Hunnish champion spied Etzel walking close by Dietrich. He, too, would take this chance, but the fiddler dealt him such a blow that his head fell soon before King Etzel's feet. When the lord of the land was come outside the house, he turned him about and gazed on Folker. "Woe is me of these guests. This is a direful need, that all my warriors should lie low in death before them. Alas for the feasting," quoth the noble king. "Like a savage boar there fighteth one within, hight Folker, who is a gleeman. I thank my stars that I escaped this fiend. His glees have an evil sound, the strokes of his how draw blood; forsooth his measures fell many a hero dead. I wot not, with what this minstrel twitteth us, for I have never had such baleful guest."
When Sir Rudeger cleared the hall, he was followed by five hundred men or more, relatives and vassals of the lord of Bechelaren, from whom King Gunther later suffered greatly. Then a Hunnish champion noticed Etzel walking close to Dietrich. He also wanted to seize this opportunity, but the fiddler struck him so hard that his head fell right at King Etzel's feet. When the lord of the land came outside the house, he turned around and looked at Folker. "How unfortunate are these guests. This is a terrible situation, that all my warriors lie dead before them. Alas for the feast," said the noble king. "Inside, one fights like a wild boar, named Folker, who is a minstrel. I thank my stars that I escaped this monster. His music has a wicked sound, and his strikes draw blood; truly, his tunes have killed many heroes. I don't know what this minstrel is mocking us with, for I've never had such a dreadful guest."
They had permitted whom they would to leave the hall. Then there arose within a mighty uproar; sorely the guests avenged what there had happed them. Ho, what helmets bold Folker broke! The noble King Gunther turned him toward the sound. "Hear ye the measures, Hagen, which Folker yonder fiddleth with the Huns, when any draweth near the towers? 'Tis a blood-red stroke he useth with the bow."
They allowed whoever they wanted to leave the hall. Then a huge uproar erupted; the guests were fiercely avenging what had happened to them. Wow, look at the helmets bold Folker shattered! The noble King Gunther turned toward the noise. "Do you hear the tunes, Hagen, that Folker is playing for the Huns when anyone approaches the towers? He uses a blood-red arrow."
"It rueth me beyond all measure," quoth Hagen, "that in this hall I sate me down to rest before the hero did. I was his comrade and he was mine; and come we ever home again, we shall still be so, in loyal wise. Now behold, most noble king, Folker is thy friend, he earneth gladly thy silver and thy gold. His fiddle bow doth cut through the hardest steel, on the helmets he breaketh the bright and shining gauds! (4) Never have I seen fiddler stand in such lordly wise as the good knight Folker hath stood to-day. His glees resound through shield and helmet. Certes he shall ride good steeds and wear lordly raiment."
"I'm beyond regret," Hagen said, "that I sat down to rest in this hall before the hero did. We were comrades, and he was mine; if we ever return home, we will still be so, faithfully. Now, look, most noble king, Folker is your friend; he gladly earns your silver and gold. His fiddle bow cuts through the hardest steel, breaking the bright and shining decorations on the helmets! I've never seen a fiddler stand so nobly as the good knight Folker does today. His music resounds through shield and helmet. Certainly, he shall ride fine steeds and wear royal attire."
Of all the kinsmen of the Huns within the hall, not one of these remained alive. Thus the clash of arms died out, since none strove with them longer. The lusty knights and bold now laid aside their swords.
Of all the Huns' relatives in the hall, none of them were left alive. So the fighting finally stopped, since no one was left to continue. The courageous knights now put down their swords.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Friendship" translates the M.H.G. "minne trinken" 'to drink to the memory of a person', an old custom originating with the idea of pouring out a libation to the gods. Later it assumed the form of drinking to the honor of God, of a saint, or of an absent friend. See Grimm, "Mythologie", p. 48. (2) "Amelungs", see Adventure XXVIII, note 3. (3) "Wolfhart", see Adventure XXVIII, note 2. (4) "Gauds", ornaments.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Friendship" translates the M.H.G. "minne trinken" meaning 'to drink in memory of someone', an old tradition that started with the practice of pouring out a drink for the gods. Over time, it evolved into a way of toasting in honor of God, a saint, or a friend who is far away. See Grimm, "Mythologie", p. 48. (2) "Amelungs", see Adventure XXVIII, note 3. (3) "Wolfhart", see Adventure XXVIII, note 2. (4) "Gauds", decorations.
ADVENTURE XXXIV. How They Cast Out The Dead.
The lordings sate them down for weariness. Folker and Hagen came forth from the hall; upon their shields the haughty warriors leaned. Wise words were spoken by the twain. Then Knight Giselher of Burgundy spake: "Forsooth, dear friends, ye may not ease you yet; ye must bear the dead from out the hall. I'll tell you, of a truth, we shall be attacked again. They must no longer lie here beneath our feet. Ere the Huns vanquish us by storm, we'll yet how wounds, which shall ease my heart. For this," quoth Giselher, "I have a steadfast mind."
The lords sat down out of exhaustion. Folker and Hagen came out of the hall; the proud warriors leaned on their shields. Wise words were exchanged between them. Then Knight Giselher of Burgundy spoke: "Honestly, dear friends, you can't rest yet; you need to take the dead out of the hall. I’m telling you, for real, we’ll be attacked again. They can’t stay here underfoot any longer. Before the Huns overpower us with a siege, we’ll deal with the wounds that will ease my heart. This," said Giselher, "I am determined about."
"Well is me of such a lord," spake then Hagen. "This rede which my young master hath given us to-day would befit no one but a knight. At this, Burgundians, ye may all stand glad."
"Well, this is unfortunate for us," Hagen said then. "The advice my young master has given us today is fit for no one but a knight. With this, Burgundians, you can all be pleased."
Then they followed the rede, and to the door they bare seven thousand dead, the which they cast outside. Down they fell before the stairway to the hall, and from their kinsmen rose a full piteous wall. Some there were with such slight wounds that, had they been more gently treated, they would have waxed well again; but from the lofty fall, they must needs lie dead. Their friends bewailed this, and forsooth they had good cause.
Then they followed the advice, and to the door they brought seven thousand dead bodies, which they threw outside. They collapsed in front of the stairway to the hall, and their relatives let out a heartbreaking cry. Some had such minor wounds that, if they had received gentle care, they would have recovered; but from the high fall, they had to lie dead. Their friends mourned this, and seriously, they had every reason to.
Then spake Folker, the fiddler, a lusty knight: "Now I mark the truth of this, as hath been told me. The Huns be cravens, like women they wail; they should rather nurse these sorely wounded men."
Then spoke Folker, the fiddler, a lively knight: "Now I see the truth of this, as I've been told. The Huns are cowards, they cry like women; they should instead take care of these badly injured men."
A margrave weened, he spake through kindness. Seeing one of his kinsmen lying in the blood, he clasped him in his arms and would have borne him hence, when the bold minstrel shot him above the dead to death. The flight began as the others saw this deed, and all fell to cursing this selfsame minstrel. He snatched javelin, sharp and hard, the which had been hurled at him by a Hun, and cast it with might across the court, far over the folk. Thus he forced Etzel's warriors to take lodgement further from the hall. On every side the people feared his mighty prowess.
A margrave, feeling compassionate, spoke kindly. When he saw one of his relatives lying in the blood, he embraced him and tried to carry him away, but the brave minstrel shot him dead right above the fallen. The moment the others witnessed this act, panic erupted, and they all cursed the same minstrel. He grabbed a sharp, hard javelin that had been thrown at him by a Hun and hurled it powerfully across the courtyard, far over the crowd. This forced Etzel's warriors to retreat further from the hall. Everywhere, people were afraid of his incredible strength.
Many thousand men now stood before the hall. Folker and Hagen gan speak to Etzel all their mind, wherefrom these heroes bold and good came thereafter into danger. Quoth Hagen: "'Twould well beseem the people's hope, if the lords would fight in the foremost ranks, as doth each of my lordings here. They hew through the helmets, so that the blood doth follow the sword."
Many thousands of men now stood in front of the hall. Folker and Hagen began to speak openly to Etzel about what had led these brave heroes into danger. Hagen said, "It would be fitting for the people's hope if the nobles fought in the front lines, just like each of my lords here. They slice through the helmets, causing blood to follow the sword."
Etzel was brave; he seized his shield. "Now fare warily," spake Lady Kriemhild, "and offer the warriors gold upon your shield. If Hagen doth but reach you there, ye'll be hand in hand with death."
Etzel was brave; he grabbed his shield. "Now be careful," said Lady Kriemhild, "and offer the warriors gold on your shield. If Hagen gets to you there, you'll be facing death."
The king was so bold he would not turn him back, the which doth now seldom hap from so mighty a lord. By his shield-thong they had to draw him hence. Once again grim Hagen began to mock him. "It is a distant kinship," quoth Hagen, the knight, "that bindeth Etzel and Siegfried. He loved Kriemhild, or ever she laid eyes on thee. Most evil king, why dost thou plot against me?"
The king was so bold that he wouldn’t back down, which rarely happens with such a powerful lord. They had to pull him away by his shield strap. Once more, grim Hagen started to taunt him. "It’s a distant connection," Hagen the knight said, "that ties Etzel and Siegfried. He loved Kriemhild before she ever saw you. Most wicked king, why are you scheming against me?"
Kriemhild, the wife of the noble king, heard this speech; angry she grew that he durst thus revile her before King Etzel's liegemen. Therefore she again began to plot against the strangers. She spake: "For him that slayeth me Hagen of Troneg and bringeth me his head, I will fill King Etzel's shield with ruddy gold, thereto will I give him as guerdon many goodly lands and castles."
Kriemhild, the wife of the noble king, heard what was said; she became angry that he dared to insult her in front of King Etzel's followers. So, she started plotting against the outsiders again. She said, "Whoever kills Hagen of Troneg and brings me his head, I will fill King Etzel's shield with red gold, and I will reward him with many fine lands and castles."
"Now I know not for what they wait," spake the minstrel. "Never have I seen heroes stand so much like cowards, when one heard proffered such goodly wage. Forsooth King Etzel should never be their friend again. Many of those who so basely eat the lording's bread, and now desert him in the greatest need, do I see stand here as cravens, and yet would pass for brave. May shame ever be their lot!"
"Now I don't know what they're waiting for," said the minstrel. "I've never seen heroes act so cowardly, especially when such a generous reward has been offered. Truly, King Etzel should never be their ally again. Many of those who shamelessly enjoy the lord's support and now abandon him in his greatest time of need, I see standing here like cowards, yet they would pretend to be brave. May shame always be their fate!"
ADVENTURE XXXV. How Iring Was Slain.
Then cried Margrave Iring of Denmark: "I have striven for honor now long time, and in the storm of battle have been among the best. Now bring me my harness, for in sooth I will encounter me with Hagen."
Then shouted Margrave Iring of Denmark: "I've been fighting for honor for a long time, and in the heat of battle, I've held my own among the best. Now bring me my armor, because I truly intend to face Hagen."
"I would not counsel that," spake Hagen, "but bid the Hunnish knights stand further back. If twain of you or three leap into the hall, I'll send them back sore wounded down the steps."
"I wouldn't advise that," Hagen said, "but tell the Hunnish knights to step back. If two or three of you jump into the hall, I'll send them back down the steps seriously hurt."
"Not for that will I give it over," quoth Iring again. "I've tried before such daring things; in truth with my good sword I will encounter thee alone. What availeth all thy boasting, which thou hast done in words?"
"That's not enough for me to give up," Iring said again. "I've attempted bold things before; honestly, I’ll face you alone with my trusty sword. What good is all your bragging if it's just talk?"
Then were soon arrayed the good Knight Iring and Irnfried of Thuringia, a daring youth, and the stalwart Hawart and full a thousand men. Whatever Iring ventured, they would all fain give him aid. Then the fiddler spied a mighty troop, that strode along well armed with Iring. Upon their heads they bare good helmets. At this bold Folker waxed a deal full wroth of mood. "See ye, friend Hagen, Iring striding yonder, who vowed to match you with his sword alone? How doth lying beseem a hero? Much that misliketh me. There walk with him full a thousand knights or more, well armed."
Then the noble Knight Iring soon appeared alongside Irnfried of Thuringia, a brave young warrior, and the strong Hawart, along with a full thousand men. Whatever challenge Iring faced, they all rushed to support him. Then the fiddler noticed a large group walking strongly alongside Iring, all well-armed and wearing good helmets. This bold sight made Folker quite angry. "Look, friend Hagen, there's Iring over there, who promised to face you with just his sword. How does such a lie suit a hero? I really don't like this. He's walking with at least a thousand knights or more, all well-equipped."
"Say not that I lie," spake Hawart's liegeman. "Gladly will I perform what I have vowed, nor will I desist therefrom through any fear. However frightful Hagen be, I will meet him single-handed."
"Don't say that I'm lying," said Hawart's loyal servant. "I will gladly do what I've promised, and I won't back down out of fear. No matter how scary Hagen is, I will face him alone."
On his knees Iring begged both kinsmen and vassals to let him match the knight alone. This they did unwillingly, for well they knew the haughty Hagen from the Burgundian land. But Iring begged so long that at last it happed. When the fellowship beheld his wish and that he strove for honor, they let him go. Then a fierce conflict rose between the twain. Iring of Denmark, the peerless high-born knight, bare high his spear and covered him with his shield. Swiftly he rushed on Hagen before the hall, while a great shout arose from all the knights around. With might and main they cast the spears with their hands through the sturdy shields upon their shining armor, so that the shafts whirled high in air. Then the two brave men and fierce reached for their swords. Bold Hagen's strength was mickle and great, but Iring smote him, that the whole hall rang. Palace and towers resounded from their blows, but the knight could not achieve his wish.
On his knees, Iring pleaded with his relatives and vassals to let him face the knight alone. They agreed reluctantly, fully aware of the arrogant Hagen from the Burgundian land. However, Iring begged for so long that they finally relented. When the fellowship saw his determination and that he was fighting for honor, they allowed him to proceed. A fierce battle broke out between the two. Iring of Denmark, the unmatched high-born knight, raised his spear and shield. He charged at Hagen in front of the hall, while a great cheer erupted from all the knights around. They hurled their spears through the sturdy shields at their shining armor, causing the shafts to soar high into the air. Then the two brave and fierce men reached for their swords. Bold Hagen was strong and powerful, but Iring struck him so hard that the entire hall echoed. The palace and towers reverberated from their blows, yet the knight could not achieve his goal.
Iring now left Hagen stand unharmed, and hied him to the fiddler. He weened to fell him by his mighty blows, but the stately knight wist how to guard bin, well. Then the fiddler struck a blow, that the plates of mail whirled high above the buckler's rim. An evil man he was, for to encounter, so Iring let him stand and rushed at Gunther of the Burgundian land. Here, too, either was strong enow in strife. The blows that Gunther and Iring dealt each other drew no blood from wounds. This the harness hindered, the which was both strong and good.
Iring now left Hagen unharmed and went after the fiddler. He thought he could take him down with his powerful blows, but the noble knight knew how to defend himself well. Then the fiddler landed a hit that sent the plates of armor flying high above the shield's edge. He was a wicked opponent, so Iring chose to leave him and charged at Gunther of the Burgundian land. Here too, both were strong in battle. The hits that Gunther and Iring exchanged didn’t draw blood from wounds. Their armor prevented that, as it was both strong and well-made.
He now let Gunther be, and ran at Gernot, and gan hew sparks of fire from his armor rings. Then had stalwart Gernot of Burgundy nigh done brave Iring unto death, but that he sprang away from the prince (nimble enow he was), and slew eftsoon four noble henchmen of the Burgundians from Worms across the Rhine. At this Giselher might never have waxed more wroth. "God wot, Sir Iring," spake Giselher, the youth, "ye must pay me weregild (1) for those who have fallen dead this hour before you."
He let Gunther be and charged at Gernot, striking sparks from his armor. Then the brave Gernot of Burgundy nearly killed Iring, but he managed to dodge away from the prince (he was quick enough), and soon after, he killed four noble henchmen of the Burgundians from Worms across the Rhine. This made Giselher even angrier than ever. "Honestly, Sir Iring," said Giselher, the young one, "you have to pay me restitution for those who have just fallen dead before you."
Then at him he rushed and smote the Dane, so that he could not stir a step, but sank before his hands down in the blood, so that all did ween the good knight would never deal a blow again in strife. But Iring lay unwounded here before Sir Giselher. From the crashing of the helmet and the ringing of the sword, his wits had grown so weak that the brave knight no longer thought of life. Stalwart Giselher had done this with his might. When now the ringing gan leave his head, the which he had suffered from the mighty stroke, he thought: "I am still alive and nowhere wounded. Now first wot I of Giselher's mighty strength." On either side he heard his foes. Wist they the tale, still more had happed him. Giselher, too, he marked hard by; he bethought him, how he might escape his foes. How madly he sprang up from the blood! Well might he thank his nimbleness for this. Out of the house he ran to where he again found Hagen, whom he dealt a furious blow with his powerful hand.
Then he charged at the Dane and struck him down, leaving him unable to move, sinking to the ground in his blood, leading everyone to believe that the brave knight would never fight again. But Iring lay unharmed there before Sir Giselher. After the crash of the helmet and the ringing of the sword, his mind had become so clouded that the courageous knight no longer thought about surviving. Strong Giselher had achieved this with his power. As the ringing in his head subsided from the heavy blow he had received, he thought, "I'm still alive and not hurt. Now I truly realize Giselher's incredible strength." He could hear his enemies on both sides. If they knew the situation, he would be in even more trouble. Giselher was close by; he considered how he might evade his enemies. How desperately he jumped up from the blood! He could really thank his agility for this. He ran out of the house to where he found Hagen again, and he delivered a furious blow with his strong hand.
Hagen thought him: "Thou art doomed. Unless be that the foul fiend protect thee, thou canst not escape alive."
Hagen thought to himself, "You are doomed. Unless the evil spirit protects you, you won't escape alive."
Yet Iring wounded Hagen through his crest. This the hero wrought with Waska, (2) a passing goodly sword. When Sir Hagen felt the wound, wildly he brandished his weapon in his hand. Soon Hawart's liegeman was forced to yield his ground, and Hagen gan pursue him down the stairs. Brave Iring swung his shield above his head, but had the staircase been the length of three, Hagen would not have let him strike a blow the while. Ho, what red sparks did play above his helmet!
Yet Iring injured Hagen through his helmet. The hero did this with Waska, a really good sword. When Sir Hagen felt the pain, he wildly waved his weapon around. Soon, Hawart's servant was forced to give up his position, and Hagen started chasing him down the stairs. Brave Iring held his shield high above his head, but even if the staircase had been three times longer, Hagen wouldn't have let him land a hit. Wow, what red sparks flashed above his helmet!
Iring returned scatheless to his liegemen. Then the tidings were brought to Kriemhild, of that which he had wrought in strife with Hagen of Troneg. For this the queen gan thank him highly. "Now God requite thee, Iring, thou peerless hero and good. Thou hast comforted well my heart and mind. I see that Hagen's weeds be wet with blood." For very joy Kriemhild herself relieved him of his shield.
Iring returned unharmed to his followers. Then the news was brought to Kriemhild about what he had done in battle with Hagen of Troneg. For this, the queen greatly praised him. "May God reward you, Iring, you unmatched hero and good person. You’ve truly eased my heart and mind. I see that Hagen's clothes are stained with blood." Out of sheer joy, Kriemhild herself helped him take off his shield.
"Be not too lavish of your thanks," spake Hagen. "'Twould well befit a knight to try again. A valiant man were he, if he then came back alive. Little shall the wound profit you, which I have at his bands; for that ye have seen the rings wet with blood from my wound doth urge me to the death of many a man. Now first am I enraged at Hawart's liegeman. Small scathe hath Knight Iring done me yet."
"Don't be too generous with your thanks," Hagen said. "It would suit a knight to try again. He would be a brave man if he returned alive. The wound I have from him won’t really help you, because seeing the rings stained with my blood only drives me to kill many men. Now I'm really angry at Hawart's servant. Knight Iring hasn't harmed me much yet."
Meanwhile Iring of Denmark stood in the breeze; he cooled his harness and doffed his casque. All the folk then praised his prowess, at which the margrave was in passing lofty mood. Again Sir Iring spake: "My friends, this know; arm me now quickly, for I would fain try again, if perchance I may not conquer this overweening man."
Meanwhile, Iring of Denmark stood in the breeze; he cooled his gear and took off his helmet. Everyone praised his skills, which put the margrave in a good mood. Again, Sir Iring spoke: "My friends, listen to me; arm me quickly, for I want to give it another shot, in case I can defeat this arrogant man."
His shield was hewn to pieces, a better one he gained; full soon the champion was armed again. Through hate he seized a passing heavy spear with which he would encounter Hagen yonder. Meantime the death-grim man awaited him in hostile wise. But Knight Hagen would not abide his coming. Hurling the javelin and brandishing his sword, he ran to meet him to the very bottom of the stairs. Forsooth his rage was great. Little booted Iring then his strength; through the shields they smote, so that the flames rose high in fiery blasts. Hagen sorely wounded Hawart's liegeman with his sword through shield and breastplate. Never waxed he well again. When now Knight Iring felt the wound, higher above his helmet bands he raised his shield. Great enow he thought the scathe he here received, but thereafter King Gunther's liegeman did him more of harm. Hagen found a spear lying now before his feet. With this he shot Iring, the Danish hero, so that the shaft stood forth from his head. Champion Hagen had given him a bitter end. Iring must needs retreat to those of Denmark. Or ever they unbound his helmet and drew the spear-shaft from his head, death had already drawn nigh him. At this his kinsmen wept, as forsooth they had great need.
His shield was smashed, but he got a better one; soon the champion was armored up again. Out of anger, he grabbed a heavy spear to confront Hagen over there. Meanwhile, the grim man waited for him with hostility. But Knight Hagen wasn’t going to wait for him to approach. Throwing his javelin and swinging his sword, he ran to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. His rage was intense. Iring's strength didn’t help him much; their shields clashed, causing flames to shoot up in fiery bursts. Hagen severely injured Hawart's man with his sword, cutting through shield and armor. He never recovered. When Knight Iring felt the wound, he raised his shield higher above his helmet. He thought the damage he took was bad enough, but King Gunther's man did even more harm. Hagen spotted a spear lying at his feet. With it, he pierced Iring, the Danish hero, so that the shaft stuck out from his head. Champion Hagen had dealt him a cruel end. Iring had to retreat to his fellow Danes. Before they could remove his helmet and pull the spear out of his head, death was already closing in on him. His kinsmen wept for him, as they truly needed to.
Then the queen came and bent above him. She gan bewail the stalwart Iring and bewept his wounds, indeed her grief was passing sharp. At this the bold and lusty warrior spake before his kinsmen: "Let be this wail, most royal queen. What availeth your weeping now? Certes, I must lose my life from these wounds I have received. Death will no longer let me serve you and Etzel." To the men of Thuringia and to those of Denmark he spake: "None of you must take from the queen her shining ruddy gold as meed, for if ye encounter Hagen, ye must gaze on death."
Then the queen came and leaned over him. She began to mourn for the brave Iring and cried over his wounds; her grief was truly intense. At this, the bold and spirited warrior spoke in front of his relatives: "Stop this crying, most royal queen. What good is your weeping now? I must accept my fate from these wounds I've received. Death will no longer allow me to serve you and Etzel." He addressed the men of Thuringia and Denmark: "None of you should take the queen's shining red gold as a reward, because if you run into Hagen, you’ll be facing death."
Pale grew his hue; brave Iring bare the mark of death. Dole enow it gave them, for no longer might Hawart's liegeman live. Then the men of Denmark must needs renew the fray. Irnfried and Hawart with well a thousand champions leaped toward the hall. On every side one heard a monstrous uproar, mighty and strong. Ho, what sturdy javelins were cast at the Burgundian men! Bold Irnfried rushed at the minstrel, but gained great damage at his hands. Through his sturdy helmet the noble fiddler smote the landgrave. Certes, he was grim enow! Then Sir Irnfried dealt the valiant gleeman such a blow that his coat of mail burst open and his breastplate was enveloped with a bright red flame. Yet the landgrave fell dead at the minstrel's hands. Hawart and Hagen, too, had come together. Wonders would he have seen, who beheld the fight. The swords fell thick and fast in the heroes' hands. Through the knight from the Burgundian land Hawart needs must die. When the Thuringians and the Danes espied their lordings dead, there rose before the hall a fearful strife, before they gained the door with mighty hand. Many a helm and shield was hacked and cut thereby.
Pale was his skin; brave Iring showed the mark of death. It caused them great sorrow, for Hawart's loyal servant could no longer live. Then the men of Denmark had to jump back into the fight. Irnfried and Hawart, along with nearly a thousand warriors, rushed toward the hall. All around, there was a huge uproar, powerful and fierce. Oh, what strong javelins were thrown at the Burgundian men! Bold Irnfried charged at the minstrel but suffered greatly at his hands. The noble fiddler struck the landgrave through his sturdy helmet. Indeed, he was fearsome enough! Then Sir Irnfried hit the brave minstrel with such force that his armor burst open, and his breastplate was engulfed in bright red flames. Still, the landgrave fell dead at the minstrel's feet. Hawart and Hagen had also come together. Anyone who witnessed the battle would have seen wonders. The swords fell quickly and fiercely in the heroes' hands. Because of the knight from the Burgundian lands, Hawart had to die. When the Thuringians and the Danes saw their leaders dead, a terrible fight erupted outside the hall as they tried to break through the door with great force. Many helmets and shields were chopped and shattered in the process.
"Give way," spake Folker, "and let them in, for else what they have in mind will not be ended. They must die in here in full short time. With death they'll gain what the queen would give them."
"Make way," Folker said, "and let them in, or what they have planned won't come to an end. They will die in here very soon. With death, they'll achieve what the queen would offer them."
When these overweening men were come into the hall, the head of many a one sank down so low that he needs must die from their furious strokes. Well fought the valiant Gernot, and the same did Giselher, the knight. A thousand and four were come into the hall and many a whizzing stroke of the swords was seen flash forth, but soon all the warriors lay slain therein. Mickle wonders might one tell of the Burgundian men. The hall grew still, as the uproar died away. On every side the dead men's blood poured through the openings down to the drain-pipes. This the men from the Rhine had wrought with their passing strength.
When these arrogant men entered the hall, many of their heads hung so low they seemed ready to die from the brutal blows. The brave Gernot fought well, and so did the knight Giselher. A thousand and four warriors charged into the hall, and many flashes of swords could be seen, but soon all the fighters lay dead inside. There are many wonders to tell about the men of Burgundy. The hall fell silent as the chaos faded away. Blood from the dead poured through the openings into the drainpipes. This was the work of the men from the Rhine, done with their overwhelming strength.
Those from the Burgundian land now sate them down to rest and laid aside their swords and shields. But still the valiant minstrel stood guard before the hall. He waited, if any would perchance draw near again in strife. Sorely the king made wail, as did the queen. Maids and ladies were distraught with grief. Death, I ween, had conspired against them, wherefore many of the warriors perished through the guests.
Those from the Burgundian land now settled down to rest and put aside their swords and shields. But still, the brave minstrel stood guard in front of the hall. He waited, in case anyone might come near again in conflict. The king lamented bitterly, as did the queen. The maids and ladies were heartbroken with grief. Death, it seems, had conspired against them, which is why many of the warriors perished because of the guests.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Weregild" (O.E. "wer", 'a man', "gild", 'payment of money'), legal term for compensation paid for a man killed. (2) "Waska". In "Biterolf" it is the name of the sword of Walther of Wasgenstein and is connected with the old German name, "Wasgenwald", for the Vosges.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Weregild" (O.E. "wer", 'a man', "gild", 'payment of money'), a legal term for the compensation paid for a man who was killed. (2) "Waska". In "Biterolf" it is the name of the sword of Walther of Wasgenstein and is related to the old German name, "Wasgenwald", for the Vosges.
ADVENTURE XXXVI. How The Queen Gave Orders To Burn the Hall.
"Now unbind your helmets," spake the good Knight Hagen. "I and my comrade will guard you well, and should Etzel's men be minded to try again, I'll warn my lords as soon as I ever can."
"Now take off your helmets," said the good Knight Hagen. "My companion and I will protect you, and if Etzel's men decide to try again, I'll let my lords know as soon as I can."
Then many a good knight bared his head. They sate them down upon the wounded, who had fallen in the blood, done to death at their hands. Evil looks were cast upon the noble strangers. Before the eventide the king and the queen brought it to pass that the Hunnish champions tried again. Men saw full twenty thousand warriors stand before them, who must perforce march to the fray. Straightway there rose a mighty storming towards the strangers. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, the doughty knight, sprang from his lordings' side to meet the foes without the door. All weened that he were dead, yet forth he stood again unscathed. The furious strife did last till nightfall brought it to a close. As befitted good knights, the strangers warded off King Etzel's liegemen the livelong summer day. Ho, how many a bold knight fell doomed before them! This great slaughter happed upon midsummer's day, when Lady Kriemhild avenged her sorrow of heart upon her nearest kin and upon many another man, so that King Etzel never again gained joy.
Then many good knights removed their helmets. They sat down by the wounded, who had fallen in their blood, killed by their hands. Evil glances were aimed at the noble newcomers. Before evening, the king and queen made it happen that the Hunnish champions tried again. People saw a full twenty thousand warriors standing before them, forced to march into battle. Immediately, there was a fierce charge towards the strangers. Dankwart, Hagen’s brother, the brave knight, jumped from his lord’s side to confront the enemies outside the door. Everyone thought he was dead, yet he stood up again unharmed. The fierce fighting continued until nightfall brought it to an end. As befit good knights, the newcomers defended themselves against King Etzel's men all day long in the summer. Oh, how many brave knights fell doomed before them! This great slaughter happened on midsummer’s day, when Lady Kriemhild avenged her heartache on her closest kin and many others, so that King Etzel never found joy again.
The day had passed away, but still they had good cause for fear. They thought, a short and speedy death were better for them, than to be longer racked with monstrous pain. A truce these proud and lusty knights now craved; they begged that men would bring the king to see them. Forth from the hall stepped the heroes, bloody of hue, and the three noble kings, stained from their armor. They wist not to whom they should make plaint of their mighty wounds. Thither both Etzel and Kriemhild went; the land was theirs and so their band waxed large. He spake to the strangers: "Pray tell me, what ye will of me? Ye ween to gain here peace, but that may hardly be. For damage as great as ye have done me, in my son and in my many kinsmen, whom ye have slain, peace and pardon shall be denied you quite; it shall not boot you aught, an' I remain alive."
The day had ended, but they still had good reason to be scared. They thought that a quick death would be better for them than suffering from terrible pain for a longer time. These proud and strong knights now wanted a truce; they asked for someone to bring the king to see them. Out from the hall stepped the heroes, bloodied and bruised, along with the three noble kings, marked by their armor. They didn’t know to whom they should complain about their serious wounds. Then both Etzel and Kriemhild arrived; the land was theirs, and their group grew larger. He spoke to the strangers: "Please tell me, what do you want from me? You think you can find peace here, but that's unlikely. For the harm you’ve caused me, with the death of my son and many of my relatives, whom you’ve killed, peace and forgiveness will be completely denied to you; it won’t help you at all if I stay alive."
To this King Gunther answered: "Dire need constrained us; all my men-at-arms lay dead before thy heroes in the hostel. How did I deserve such pay? I came to thee in trust, I weened thou wast my friend."
To this, King Gunther replied: "We were forced by dire circumstances; all my soldiers are dead at the hands of your heroes in the inn. How did I deserve this fate? I came to you in good faith, believing you were my friend."
Young Giselher of Burgundy likewise spake: "Ye men of Etzel, who still do live, what do ye blame me with? What have I done to you, for I rode in friendly wise into this land of yours."
Young Giselher of Burgundy also spoke: "You men of Etzel, who are still alive, what do you blame me for? What have I done to you, since I rode into your land in a friendly manner?"
Quoth they: "From thy friendliness this castle is filled with grief and the land as well. We should not have taken it ill, in sooth, if thou hadst never come from Worms beyond the Rhine. Thou and thy brothers have filled this land with orphans."
Quoth they: "Because of your friendliness, this castle and the land are filled with sorrow. We wouldn't have minded at all if you had never come from Worms across the Rhine. You and your brothers have turned this land into a place full of orphans."
Then spake Knight Giselher in angry mood: "And ye will lay aside this bitter hate and make your peace with us stranger knights, 'twere best for either side. We have not merited at all what Etzel here doth do us."
Then Knight Giselher spoke in an angry tone: "If you will set aside this bitter hate and make peace with us, stranger knights, it would be best for both sides. We have not deserved at all what Etzel is doing to us."
Then spake the host to his guests: "Unlike are my wrongs and yours. The mickle grievance from the loss and then the shame, which I have taken here, are such that none of you shall e'er go hence alive."
Then the host spoke to his guests: "My grievances are different from yours. The great pain from the loss and the shame I have experienced here is such that none of you will leave this place alive."
At this mighty Gernot spake to the king: "May God then bid you act in merciful wise. Slay, if ye will, us homeless knights, but let us first descend to you into the open court. That will make to you for honor. Let be done quickly whatever shall hap to us. Ye have still many men unscathed, who dare well encounter us and bereave us storm-weary men of life. How long must we warriors undergo these toils?"
At this, the mighty Gernot spoke to the king: "May God inspire you to act with mercy. If you must, kill us homeless knights, but please, let us first come down to the open court. That would bring you honor. Let whatever is going to happen to us happen quickly. You still have many unscathed men who are brave enough to face us and end the lives of we storm-weary warriors. How long must we endure these hardships?"
King Etzel's champions had nigh granted this boon and let them leave the hall, but Kriemhild heard it and sorely it misliked her. Therefore the wanderers were speedily denied the truce. "Not so, ye Hunnish men. I counsel you in true fealty, that ye do not what ye have in mind, and let these murderers leave the hall, else must your kinsmen suffer a deadly fall. Did none of them still live, save Uta's sons, my noble brothers, and they came forth into the breeze and cooled their armor rings, ye would all be lost. Bolder heroes were never born into the world."
King Etzel's champions were just about to grant this favor and let them leave the hall, but Kriemhild heard it and was very displeased. So, the travelers were quickly denied the truce. "No way, you Hunnish men. I advise you sincerely, do not proceed with your plan, and do not let these murderers leave the hall, or else your kin will suffer a fatal defeat. If none of them were left alive except for Uta's sons, my noble brothers, and they stepped out into the fresh air to cool their armor, all of you would be doomed. There have never been bolder heroes born into this world."
Then spake young Giselher: "Fair sister mine, full evil was my trust, when thou didst invite me from across the Rhine hither to this land, to this dire need. How have I merited death here from the Huns? I was aye true to thee; never did I do thee wrong, and in the hope that thou wast still my friend, dear sister mine, rode I hither to thy court. It cannot be but that thou grant us mercy."
Then young Giselher said, "My dear sister, how wrong I was to trust when you invited me from across the Rhine to this land in this desperate time. How have I deserved death here at the hands of the Huns? I have always been loyal to you; I never wronged you, and hoping that you remained my friend, dear sister, I came to your court. You must grant us mercy."
"I will not grant you mercy, merciless is my mood. Hagen of Troneg hath done me such great wrongs that it may never be amended, the while I live. Ye must all suffer for this deed," so spake King Etzel's wife. "And ye will give me Hagen alone as hostage, I will not deny that I will let you live, for ye be my brothers and children of one mother, and will counsel peace with these heroes that be here."
"I will not show you mercy; I am in a merciless mood. Hagen of Troneg has wronged me so deeply that it can never be fixed while I live. You all must pay for this deed," said King Etzel's wife. "And if you give me Hagen alone as a hostage, I won't deny that I will let you live, since you are my brothers and children of the same mother, and I will work towards peace with these heroes who are here."
"Now God in heaven forbid," spake Gernot; "were there here a thousand of us, the clansmen of thy kin, we'd rather all lie dead, than give thee a single man as hostage. Never shall this be done."
"Now God in heaven forbid," said Gernot; "if there were a thousand of us here, the clansmen of your family, we would all rather lie dead than give you even one man as a hostage. This will never happen."
"We all must die," spake then Giselher, "but none shall hinder that we guard us in knightly wise. We be still here, if any list to fight us; for never have I failed a friend in fealty."
"We all have to die," Giselher said, "but no one will stop us from protecting ourselves like knights. We're still here if anyone wants to challenge us; I've never let a friend down in loyalty."
Then spake bold Dankwart (it had not beseemed him to have held his peace): "Forsooth my brother Hagen standeth not alone. It may yet rue those who here refuse the truce. I'll tell you of a truth, we'll make you ware of this."
Then spoke bold Dankwart (it wasn't like him to stay silent): "Indeed, my brother Hagen isn't alone. Those who refuse the truce may regret it. I'll tell you the truth, we'll make you aware of this."
Then spake the queen: "Ye full lusty heroes, now go nigher to the stairs and avenge my wrongs. For this I will ever serve you, as I should by right. I'll pay Hagen well for his overweening pride. Let none at all escape from the house, and I will bid the hall be set on fire at all four ends. Thus all my wrongs shall be well avenged."
Then the queen spoke: "You brave heroes, come closer to the stairs and avenge my wrongs. For this, I will always serve you as is right. I'll make Hagen pay dearly for his arrogance. Let no one escape from the house, and I will order the hall to be set on fire at all four corners. This way, all my wrongs will be properly avenged."
Soon were King Etzel's champions ready still stood without into the hall with blows and shots. Mickle waxed the din, yet the lordings and their liegemen would not part. For very fealty they could not leave each other. Etzel's queen then bade the hall be set on fire, and thus they racked the bodies of the knights with fire and flame. Fanned by the breeze, the whole house burst into flames full soon. I ween, no folk did ever gain such great distress. Enow within cried out: "Alack this plight! We would much rather die in stress of battle. It might move God to pity, how we all are lost! The queen now wreaketh monstrously on us her wrath."
Soon King Etzel's champions were ready; they stood outside the hall, surrounded by blows and shots. The noise grew louder, but the nobles and their loyal men would not separate. Out of loyalty, they couldn't leave each other. Then Etzel's queen ordered the hall to be set on fire, and they tormented the knights' bodies with fire and flames. Driven by the wind, the entire house quickly caught fire. I believe no one has ever experienced such great suffering. Inside, many cried out: "Oh, this awful situation! We would much rather die in battle. It might move God to pity how lost we are! The queen is now unleashing her monstrous wrath upon us."
Quoth one of them within: "We must all lie dead. What avail us now the greetings which the king did send us? Thirst from this great heat giveth me such dole, that soon, I ween, my life must ebb away in anguish."
Quoth one of them inside: "We all must die. What good are the greetings the king sent us now? This intense heat makes me so miserable from thirst that I think my life will soon fade away in pain."
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "Ye noble knights and good, let him whom pangs of thirst constrain, drink here this blood. In such great heat, 'tis better still than wine. We can purvey us at this time none better."
Then Hagen of Troneg said: "You noble knights, let anyone who suffers from thirst drink this blood. In this intense heat, it's better than wine. We can't find anything better at this moment."
One of the warriors hied him then to where he found a corpse, and knelt him down beside the wound; then he unbound his helmet and began to drink the flowing blood. However little wont to such a drink, him thought it passing good: "Sir Hagen, now God requite you," spake the weary man, "that I have drunk so well at your advice; seldom hath better wine been proffered me. And I live yet a while, I shall ever be your friend."
One of the warriors hurried to where he found a corpse and knelt beside the wound. He took off his helmet and started to drink the flowing blood. Even though he wasn't used to such a drink, he thought it tasted surprisingly good: "Sir Hagen, may God reward you," said the weary man, "for I have drunk so well at your suggestion; I’ve rarely been offered better wine. As long as I live, I will always be your friend."
When now the others heard this, it thought them good, and soon there were many more that drank the blood. From this the body of each gained much of strength; but many a stately dame paid dear for this through the loss of loving kin. Into the hall the fire fell thick and fast upon them, but with their shields they turned it from them to the ground. Both the heat and the smoke did hurt them sore; in sooth, I ween, that nevermore will such anguish hap to heroes.
When the others heard this, they thought it was great, and soon many more started drinking the blood. Because of this, each person's body gained a lot of strength; however, many noblewomen paid a heavy price for this by losing their loved ones. The fire fell upon them thick and fast in the hall, but they used their shields to deflect it to the ground. Both the heat and the smoke caused them serious pain; truly, I believe that heroes will never again experience such torment.
Again Hagen of Troneg spake: "Stand by the sides of the hall. Let not the firebrands fall upon your helmet bands, but stamp them with your feet down deeper in the blood. Forsooth it is an evil feast which the queen doth give us here."
Again Hagen of Troneg spoke: "Stand by the sides of the hall. Don’t let the burning brands hit your helmets, but stomp them down deeper into the blood with your feet. Truly, this is a terrible feast the queen is giving us here."
In such dire woes the night did wear away at last, and still the brave minstrel and his comrade Hagen stood before the hall, a-leaning on their shields. More scathe they awaited from those of Etzel's band. Then spake the fiddler: "Now go we into the hall. Then the Huns will ween, that we all be dead from the torture that hath been done us here. They'll yet see us go to meet them in the strife."
In such desperate times, the night finally passed, and still the brave minstrel and his companion Hagen stood outside the hall, leaning on their shields. They braced themselves for more harm from Etzel's men. Then the fiddler said, "Let's go into the hall. The Huns will think we’re all dead from the torture we’ve endured here. They’ll still see us go to confront them in battle."
Now spake Giselher of Burgundy, the youth: "I trow the day dawneth, a cooling wind doth blow. May God in heaven let us live to see a liefer time, for my sister Kriemhild hath given us here an evil feast."
Now spoke Giselher of Burgundy, the young man: "I think the day is breaking, a cool wind is blowing. May God in heaven let us live to see a better time, for my sister Kriemhild has given us a terrible feast here."
Again one spake: "I see the day. Sith we cannot hope for better things, so arm you, heroes, think on your life. Certes, King Etzel's wife will come to meet us soon again."
Again one spoke: "I see the day. Since we can't hope for better things, so gear up, heroes, think about your life. Surely, King Etzel's wife will come to meet us soon again."
The host weened well, that his guests were dead from their toil and the pangs of fire; but yet within the hall six hundred brave men, as good as any knight that king ever gained, were still alive. Those set to guard the strangers had well seen that the guests still lived, despite the damage and the dole that had been done both to the lordings and their men. In the hall one saw them stand full safe and sound. They then told Kriemhild that many were still alive, but the queen replied: "It could never be, that any should have lived through such stress of fire. Rather will I believe that all lie dead."
The host felt confident that his guests had perished from their efforts and the agony of flames; however, within the hall, six hundred brave men, as noble as any knight ever gathered by a king, were still alive. Those assigned to watch over the strangers had clearly seen that the guests were still breathing, despite the harm and suffering inflicted on both the lords and their men. In the hall, they appeared safe and sound. They then informed Kriemhild that many were still alive, but the queen responded: "It can’t be true that anyone has survived such a fiery ordeal. I would rather believe that all are dead."
The lordings and their men would still fain have lived, had any listed to do them mercy, but they could find none among those of the Hunnish land. So with full willing hand they avenged their dying. On this same day, towards morning, men proffered them a fierce attack as greeting, which brought the champions in stress again. Many a stout spear was hurled upon them, but the bold and lordly warriors warded them in knightly wise. High rose the mood of Etzel's men at the thought that they should earn Queen Kriemhild's gold. Thereto they were minded to perform whatso the King did bid them. Many of them because of this must soon needs gaze on death. Of pledges and of gifts one might tell wonders. She bade the ruddy gold be carried forth on shields and gave it to whomsoever craved it and would take it. Certes, greater wage was nevermore given against foes. To the hall a mickle force of well-armed warriors marched.
The lords and their men would have happily continued to live if anyone had been willing to show them mercy, but they couldn't find any among the people of the Hunnish land. So, with determined hands, they sought revenge for their impending deaths. On that same day, toward morning, they were met with a fierce attack as a greeting, which put the champions in a difficult situation once again. Many strong spears were thrown at them, but the brave and noble warriors defended themselves like true knights. The spirits of Etzel's men were lifted at the thought of earning Queen Kriemhild's gold. They were ready to do whatever the King commanded. Many of them would soon face death because of this. There were wonders to be told about the promises and gifts. She ordered the bright gold to be brought out on shields and gave it to anyone who asked for it and was willing to take it. Indeed, a greater reward had never been offered against enemies. A large force of well-armed warriors marched into the hall.
Then cried bold Folker: "We're here again, ye see. Never saw I heroes more gladly come to fight than these that have taken the king's gold to do us scathe."
Then shouted brave Folker: "We're here again, you see. I've never seen heroes more eager to fight than those who have taken the king's gold to harm us."
Then enow did call: "Nearer, heroes, nearer, that we may do betimes what we must bring to an end. Here dieth none that is not doomed to die."
Then he called out: "Closer, heroes, closer, so we can get done what we need to finish. No one here dies who isn't meant to die."
Soon their shields were seen sticking full of darts that had been thrown. What more can I say? Full twelve hundred men tried hard to match them, surging back and forth. The strangers cooled well their mood with wounds. None might part the strife, and so blood was seen to flow from mortal wounds, many of which were dealt. Each one was heard to wail for friends. All the great king's doughty warriors died, and loving kinsmen mourned them passing sore.
Soon their shields were seen filled with arrows that had been thrown. What more can I say? A full twelve hundred men tried hard to stand their ground, surging back and forth. The strangers kept their composure even while being wounded. No one could stop the fighting, and blood was seen to flow from many fatal wounds. Each one was heard crying out for their friends. All the great king's brave warriors died, and their grieving families mourned them deeply.
ADVENTURE XXXVII. How Margrave Rudeger Was Slain.
The strangers had done full well at dawn. Meanwhile Gotelind's husband came to court. Bitterly faithful Rudeger wept when he saw the grievous wounds on either side. "Woe is me," quoth the champion, "that I was ever born, sith none may stay this mickle grief! However fain I would make for peace, the king will not consent, for he seeth ever more and more the sufferings of his men."
The strangers had done very well at dawn. Meanwhile, Gotelind's husband came to court. Bitterly loyal Rudeger wept when he saw the serious wounds on both sides. "Woe is me," said the champion, "that I was ever born, since no one can stop this great grief! Although I would gladly strive for peace, the king will not agree, for he sees more and more the suffering of his men."
Then the good Knight Rudeger sent to Dietrich, if perchance they might turn the fate of the high-born kings. The king of Berne sent answer: "Who might now forfend? King Etzel will let none part the strife."
Then the good Knight Rudeger messaged Dietrich to see if they could possibly change the fate of the noble kings. The king of Berne replied: "Who could intervene now? King Etzel won't allow anyone to stop the conflict."
Then a Hunnish warrior, that saw Rudeger stand with weeping eyes, and many tears had he shed, spake to the queen: "Now behold how he doth stand, that hath the greatest power at Etzel's court and whom both lands and people serve. Why have so many castles been given to Rudeger, of which he doth hold such store from the king in fief? Not one sturdy stroke hath he dealt in all this strife. Methinks, he recketh not how it fare here at court, sith he hath his will in full. Men say of him, he be bolder than any other wight. Little hath that been seen in these parlous (1) days."
Then a Hunnish warrior, who saw Rudeger standing there with tearful eyes, having shed many tears, spoke to the queen: "Look at him, the one who holds the most power at Etzel's court, and whom both the lands and people serve. Why have so many castles been given to Rudeger, of which he holds so many from the king in fief? He hasn’t struck a single blow in this conflict. It seems he doesn’t care how things are going at court, since he gets his way completely. People say he is bolder than anyone else, but that hasn't been evident in these dangerous times."
Sad in heart the faithful vassal gazed at him whom he heard thus speak. Him-thought: "Thou shalt pay for this. Thou sayest, I be a craven, and hast told thy tale too loud at court."
Sad in heart, the loyal servant looked at the one he heard speaking like this. He thought: "You will pay for this. You say I'm a coward, and you've told your story a bit too loudly at court."
His fist he clenched, then ran he at him and smote the Hunnish man so mightily that he lay dead at his feet full soon. Through this King Etzel's woe grew greater.
His fist clenched, then he ran at him and struck the Hunnish man so forcefully that he was soon dead at his feet. Because of this, King Etzel's sorrow increased.
"Away, thou arrant coward," cried Rudeger, "forsooth I have enow of grief and pain. How dost thou taunt me, that I fight not here? Certes, I have good cause to hate the strangers, and would have done all in my power against them, had I not led the warriors hither. Of a truth I was their safeguard to my master's land. Therefore the hand of me, wretched man, may not strive against them."
"Away, you complete coward," yelled Rudeger, "I have more than enough grief and pain. How can you mock me for not fighting here? I really have good reason to hate the outsiders and would have done everything I could against them if I hadn’t brought the warriors here. The truth is, I was their protector in my master's land. That's why my hand, as a miserable man, cannot fight against them."
Then spake Etzel, the noble king, to the margrave: "How have ye helped us, most noble Rudeger! We have so many fey (2) in the land, that we have no need of more. Full evil have ye done."
Then spoke Etzel, the noble king, to the margrave: "How have you helped us, most noble Rudeger! We have so many foes in the land that we don't need more. You've done us a great disservice."
At this the noble knight made answer: "Forsooth he grieved my mood and twitted me with the honors and the goods, such store of which I have received from thy hand. This hath cost the liar dear."
At this, the noble knight replied, "Indeed, he troubled my spirit and mocked me about the honors and the wealth, a great deal of which I have received from you. This has cost the liar dearly."
The queen, too, was come and had seen what fortuned to the Huns through the hero's wrath. Passing sore she bewailed it; her eyes grew moist as she spake to Rudeger: "How have we deserved that ye should increase the sorrows of the king and me? Hitherto ye have told us, that for our sake ye would risk both life and honor. I heard full many warriors accord to you the palm. Let me mind you of your fealty and that ye swore, when that ye counseled me to Etzel, good knight and true, that ye would serve me till one of us should die. Never have I, poor woman, had such great need of this."
The queen had arrived and witnessed the misfortune that had befallen the Huns due to the hero's anger. She mourned deeply, her eyes filled with tears as she spoke to Rudeger: "How have we deserved for you to add to the sorrows of the king and me? Until now, you have told us that for our sake you would risk both your life and your honor. I’ve heard many warriors praise you. Let me remind you of your loyalty and the oath you took when you advised me to Etzel, noble knight and true, that you would serve me until one of us dies. I, a poor woman, have never needed this more than now."
"There's no denying that I swore to you, my lady, for your sake I'd risk both life and honor, but I did not swear that I would lose my soul. 'Twas I that bade the high-born lordings to this feast."
"There's no denying that I promised you, my lady, that for your sake I would risk both my life and my honor, but I didn't promise that I would lose my soul. It was I who invited the noble lords to this feast."
Quoth she: "Bethink thee, Rudeger, of thy great fealty, of thy constancy, and of thine oaths, that thou wouldst ever avenge mine injuries and all my woes."
She said: "Remember, Rudeger, your great loyalty, your steadfastness, and your oaths that you would always avenge my injuries and all my suffering."
Said the margrave: "Seldom have I denied you aught."
Said the margrave: "I rarely deny you anything."
Mighty Etzel, too, began implore; upon their knees they sank before the knight. Men saw the noble margrave stand full sad. Pitifully the faithful warrior spake: "Woe is me, most wretched man, that I have lived to see this day. I must give over all my honors, my fealty, and my courtesie, that God did bid me use. Alas, great God of heaven, that death will not turn this from me! I shall act basely and full evil, whatever I do or leave undone. But if I give over both, then will all people blame me. Now may he advise me, who hath given me life."
Mighty Etzel, too, began to plead; they sank to their knees before the knight. People saw the noble margrave standing there, full of sadness. The loyal warrior spoke pitifully: "Woe is me, the most wretched man, that I have lived to see this day. I must give up all my honors, my loyalty, and my courtesy that God asked me to uphold. Alas, great God of heaven, that death won’t take this away from me! I will act poorly and out of malice, no matter what I do or don’t do. But if I give up both, then everyone will blame me. Now let him who gave me life advise me."
Still the king and the queen, too, begged unceasingly. Through this warriors must needs thereafter lose their lives at Rudeger's hands, when the hero also died. Ye may well hear it now, that he deported him full pitifully. He wist that it would bring him scathe and monstrous woe. Gladly would he have refused the king and queen. He feared full sore that if he slew but one of the strangers, the world would bear him hate.
Still, the king and queen begged relentlessly. As a result, warriors would inevitably lose their lives at Rudeger’s hands when the hero also died. You can hear it now, how he treated him with great pity. He knew it would cause him harm and immense sorrow. He would have gladly turned down the king and queen's request. He was deeply afraid that if he killed even one of the strangers, the world would hate him.
Then the brave man addressed him to the king: "Sir King, take back again all that I have from you, my land with its castles, let not a whit remain to me. On foot will I wander into other lands."
Then the brave man spoke to the king: "Your Majesty, take back everything you’ve given me, my land with its castles—let nothing remain. I will walk into other lands."
At this King Etzel spake: "Who else should help me then? I'll give thee the land and all its castles, as thine own, that thou mayst avenge me on my foes. Thou shalt be a mighty king at Etzel's side."
At this, King Etzel said: "Who else should help me then? I'll give you the land and all its castles, as your own, so that you can avenge me on my enemies. You will be a powerful king beside Etzel."
Then answered Rudeger: "How shall I do this deed? I bade them to my house and home; in friendly wise I offered them both food and drink and gave them gifts. How may I counsel their death? People will lightly ween, that I be craven. No service of mine have I refused these noble lordings and their men. Now I rue the kinship I have gained with them. I gave my daughter to Giselher, the knight; to none in all the world could she have been better given, for courtesie and honor, for fealty and wealth. Never have I seen so young a prince of such right courteous mind."
Then Rudeger replied, "How should I carry this out? I invited them to my home; I offered them food and drink in a friendly manner and gave them gifts. How can I consider their death? People will easily think I’m a coward. I haven’t denied any service to these noble lords and their men. Now I regret the bond I’ve formed with them. I gave my daughter to Giselher, the knight; she couldn’t have been better matched in the entire world, given his courtesy and honor, loyalty and wealth. I've never seen such a young prince with such a truly courteous spirit."
Then Kriemhild spake again: "Most noble Rudeger, take pity on our griefs, on mine and on the king's. Bethink thee well, that king did never gain such baneful guests."
Then Kriemhild spoke again: "Most noble Rudeger, have mercy on our sorrow, on mine and on the king's. Remember well that the king has never had such harmful guests."
To the noble dame the margrave spake: "Rudeger's life must pay to-day for whatsoever favors ye and my lord have shown me. Therefore must I die; no longer may it be deferred. I know full well, that my castles and my lands will be voided for you to-day through the hand of one of these men. To your mercy I commend my wife and children and the strangers (3) who be at Bechelaren."
To the noble lady, the margrave said: "Rudeger's life must pay today for all the favors you and my lord have shown me. So I must die; it can’t be postponed any longer. I know very well that my castles and my lands will be taken from me today by one of these men. I entrust my wife and children, as well as the strangers at Bechelaren, to your mercy."
"Now God requite thee, Rudeger," spake the king, and both he and the queen grew glad. "Thy people shall be well commended to our care. For mine own weal I trust thou too shalt go unscathed."
"Now may God reward you, Rudeger," said the king, and both he and the queen felt happy. "Your people will be well looked after by us. For my own sake, I hope you will also come through this unharmed."
Etzel's bride began to weep. Then body and soul he staked upon the venture. He spake: "I must perform what I have vowed. Alas for my friends, whom I am loth to fight."
Etzel's bride started to cry. Then he committed everything he had to the challenge. He said, "I have to fulfill my vow. It's a pity for my friends, whom I don't want to battle."
Men saw him go sadly from the presence of the king. Close at hand he found his warriors standing. He spake: "Ye must arm you all, my men, for, alas, I must needs encounter the bold Burgundians."
Men watched him leave the king’s presence with a heavy heart. Nearby, he found his warriors waiting. He said, "You all need to gear up, my men, because, unfortunately, I have to face the brave Burgundians."
They bade the squires run nimbly to where lay their arms. Whether it were helm or buckler, 'twas all brought forth to them by their meiny. Later the proud strangers heard told baleful tales. Rudeger was now armed, and with him five hundred men; thereto he gained twelve champions, who would fain win renown in the stress of battle. They wist not that death drew nigh them. Then Rudeger was seen to march with helmet donned. The margrave's men bare keen-edged swords, and their bright shields and broad upon their arms. This the fiddler saw; greatly he rued the sight. When young Giselher beheld his lady's father walk with his helm upon his head, how might he know what he meant thereby, save that it portended good? Therefore the noble prince waxed passing merry of mood.
They told the squires to quickly run and get their gear. Whether it was a helmet or shield, everything was brought to them by their crew. Later, the proud strangers heard grim stories. Rudeger was now suited up for battle, and with him were five hundred men; he also gained twelve champions who were eager to earn glory in the heat of combat. They were unaware that death was approaching them. Then Rudeger was seen marching with his helmet on. The margrave's men carried sharp swords and had bright shields strapped to their arms. The fiddler witnessed this sight and deeply regretted it. When young Giselher saw his lady's father walking with his helmet on, how could he interpret it other than as a sign of good? So the noble prince became exceptionally cheerful.
"Now well is me of such kinsmen," spake Knight Giselher, "whom we have won upon this journey; from my wife we shall reap much profit here. Lief it is to me, that this betrothal hath taken place."
"Now I’m really glad about these relatives we’ve gained on this journey," said Knight Giselher. "We’ll gain a lot from my wife here. I’m very pleased that this engagement has happened."
"I know not whence ye take your comfort," spake then the minstrel; "when have ye seen so many heroes walk with helmets donned and swords in hand, for the sake of peace? Rudeger doth think to win his castles and his lands in fight with us."
"I don’t know where you find your comfort," said the minstrel. "When have you seen so many heroes walking around in helmets and wielding swords, all for the sake of peace? Rudeger believes he can gain his castles and lands by fighting against us."
Or ever the fiddler had ended his speech, men saw the noble Rudeger before the house. At his feet he placed his trusty shield, and now both service and greeting he must needs refuse his friends. Into the hall the noble margrave called: "Ye doughty Nibelungs, now guard you well on every side. Ye were to profit by me, now I shall bring you scathe. Aforetime we were friends, but of this troth I now would fain be rid."
Or before the fiddler finished his speech, people saw the noble Rudeger in front of the house. He placed his trusty shield at his feet, and now he had to refuse both service and greeting to his friends. In the hall, the noble margrave called out: "You brave Nibelungs, watch yourselves closely on all sides. You were meant to benefit from me, but now I’ll bring you harm. We were friends before, but now I want to be done with that promise."
The hard-pressed men were startled at this tale, for none gained aught of joy, that he whom they did love would now fain fight them. From their foes they had already suffered mickle stress of war. "Now God of heaven forbid," spake Gunther, the knight, "that ye should give over your love of us and your great fealty, on which we counted of a truth. Better things I trow of you, than that ye should ever do this deed."
The stressed men were taken aback by this story, as nobody found any joy in the fact that the one they loved would now willingly fight against them. They had already endured a lot from their enemies in the war. "Now, God in heaven forbid," said Gunther, the knight, "that you should abandon your love for us and your strong loyalty, which we truly relied on. I believe better things of you than that you would ever do this."
"Alas, I cannot give it over, but must fight you, for I have vowed it. Now ward you, brave heroes, and ye love your life. King Etzel's wife would not release me from mine oath."
"Unfortunately, I can't hand it over, so I must fight you, because I promised to. Now be careful, brave heroes, if you value your lives. King Etzel's wife wouldn't let me break my oath."
"Ye declare this feud too late," spake the high-born king. "Now may God requite you, most noble Rudeger, for all the love and fealty that ye have shown us, if ye would only act more kindly at the end. I and my kinsmen, we ought ever to serve you for the noble gifts ye gave us, when ye brought us hither faithfully to Etzel's land. Now, noble Rudeger, think on this."
"You’re bringing up this feud too late," said the noble king. "May God reward you, dear Rudeger, for all the love and loyalty you’ve shown us, if only you would act more kindly at the end. My family and I should always serve you for the generous gifts you gave us when you brought us here faithfully to Etzel's land. Now, noble Rudeger, consider this."
"How gladly would I grant you," spake Knight Rudeger, "that I might weigh out my gifts for you with full measure, as willingly as I had hoped, if I never should be blamed on that account."
"How gladly would I grant you," said Knight Rudeger, "that I could give you my gifts in full measure, just as I wished, if I would never be blamed for it."
"Turn back, noble Rudeger," spake then Gernot, "for host did never give his guests such loving cheer as ye did us. This shall profit you well, and we remain alive."
"Turn back, noble Rudeger," then said Gernot, "for the host never treated his guests with such kindness as you did us. This will benefit you greatly, and we will remain alive."
"Would to God," spake Rudeger, "most noble Gernot, that ye were on the Rhine and I were dead with passing honor, sith I must now encounter you! Never did friends act worse to heroes."
"God, I wish," said Rudeger, "most noble Gernot, that you were on the Rhine and I were dead with tremendous honor, since I must now face you! Friends have never acted worse to heroes."
"Now God requite you, Sir Rudeger," answered Gernot, "for your passing rich gifts. Your death doth rue me, if such knightly virtues shall be lost with you. Here I bear your sword that ye gave me, good knight and true. It hath never failed me in all this need. Many a knight fell dead beneath its edges. It is bright and steady, glorious and good; nevermore, I ween, will warrior give so rich a gift. And will ye not turn back, but come to meet us, and slay aught of the friends I still have here, with your own sword will I take your life. Then will ye rue me, Rudeger, ye and your high-born wife."
"Now may God reward you, Sir Rudeger," replied Gernot, "for your incredible gifts. I regret your death, as it means such noble qualities might be lost with you. Here I hold the sword you gave me, true knight. It has never let me down in times of need. Many a knight has fallen dead at its edge. It is sharp and reliable, magnificent and noble; I don't think any warrior will ever give a gift as valuable again. And if you won’t turn back but come to face us and harm any of my remaining friends, I will take your life with your own sword. Then you will regret it, Rudeger, you and your high-born wife."
"Would to God, Sir Gernot, that this might come to pass, that all your will might here be done, and that your kinsmen escaped unscathed! Then both my daughter and my wife may trust you well, forsooth."
"Would to God, Sir Gernot, that this could happen, that all your wishes might be fulfilled here, and that your family stays safe! Then both my daughter and my wife can trust you completely."
Then of the Burgundians there spake fair Uta's son: "Why do ye so, Sir Rudeger? Those that be come with us, do all like you well. Ye encounter us in evil wise; ye wish to make your fair daughter a widow far too soon. If ye and your warriors match me now with strife, how right unkindly do ye let it appear, that I trust you well above all other men and therefore won me your daughter to wife."
Then Uta's son from Burgundy spoke up: "Why are you acting like this, Sir Rudeger? Everyone who has come with us thinks well of you. You're treating us poorly; you want to make your beautiful daughter a widow way too soon. If you and your warriors challenge me to a fight now, it’s incredibly unkind, considering that I trust you more than anyone else, which is why I won your daughter’s hand in marriage."
"Think on your fealty, most noble and high-born king. And God let you escape," so spake Rudeger, "let the maiden suffer not for me. For your own virtue's sake, vouchsafe her mercy."
"Consider your loyalty, most noble and high-born king. And may God allow you to escape," said Rudeger, "do not let the maiden suffer because of me. For your own honor, please show her mercy."
"That I should do by right," spake the youthful Giselher, "but if my noble kinsmen here within must die through you, then my steadfast friendship for you and for your daughter must be parted."
"That I should do by right," said the young Giselher, "but if my noble relatives here are going to die because of you, then my loyal friendship for you and for your daughter must end."
"Now may God have mercy on us," answered the valiant man. Then they raised their shields, as though they would hence to fight the guests in Kriemhild's hall, but Hagen cried full loud adown the steps. "Pray tarry awhile, most noble Rudeger," so spake Hagen; "I and my lords would fain have further parley, as doth befit our need. What can the death of us wanderers avail King Etzel? I stand here in a fearful plight; the shield that Lady Gotelind gave me to bear hath been cut to pieces by the Huns. I brought it with friendly purpose into Etzel's land. O that God in heaven would grant, that I might bear so good a shield as that thou hast in thy hand, most noble Rudeger! Then I should no longer need a hauberk in the fray."
"Now may God have mercy on us," replied the brave man. Then they raised their shields, as if they were about to fight the guests in Kriemhild's hall, but Hagen shouted loudly down the steps, "Please wait a moment, most noble Rudeger," Hagen said; "I and my lords would like to discuss things further, as is necessary for us. What good would our deaths do King Etzel? I stand here in a terrible situation; the shield that Lady Gotelind gave me to carry has been destroyed by the Huns. I brought it into Etzel's land with good intentions. Oh, that God in heaven would allow me to have such a good shield as the one you hold, most noble Rudeger! Then I wouldn't need a hauberk in battle."
"Gladly would I serve thee with my shield, durst I offer it before Kriemhild. Yet take it, Hagen, and bear it on thine arm. Ho, if thou couldst only wield it in the Burgundian land!"
"Of course, I'd be happy to serve you with my shield if I could present it to Kriemhild. But take it, Hagen, and carry it on your arm. Oh, if only you could use it in Burgundian territory!"
When he so willingly offered to give the shield, enow of eyes grew red with scalding tears. 'T was the last gift that ever Rudeger of Bechelaren gave to any knight. However fierce Hagen, and however stern of mood, the gift did touch him, which the good hero, so near to death, had given. Many a noble knight gan mourn with him.
When he gladly offered the shield, many eyes filled with burning tears. It was the last gift that Rudeger of Bechelaren ever gave to any knight. No matter how fierce Hagen was, or how serious his demeanor, this gift from the brave hero, so close to death, moved him. Many noble knights began to mourn with him.
"Now God in heaven requite you, most noble Rudeger. Your like will nevermore be found, who giveth homeless warriors such lordly gifts. God grant that your courtesie may ever live." Again Hagen spake: "Woe is me of these tales, we had so many other griefs to bear. Let complaint be made to heaven, if we must fight with friends."
"Now God in heaven reward you, most noble Rudeger. You are one of a kind, who gives generous gifts to homeless warriors. May your kindness always be remembered." Then Hagen said, "Woe to me for these stories, we have so many other sorrows to endure. Let’s take our complaints to heaven if we have to fight against our friends."
Quoth the margrave: "Inly doth this grieve me."
Quoth the margrave: "This truly troubles me."
"Now God requite you, for the gift, most noble Rudeger. Howso these high-born warriors deport them toward you, my hand shall never touch you in the fight, and ye slew them all from the Burgundian land."
"Now may God reward you for the gift, noble Rudeger. No matter how these high-born warriors treat you, I will never lay a hand on you in battle, especially since you killed them all from the Burgundian land."
Courteously the good Sir Rudeger bowed him low. On every side they wept, that none might soothe this pain of heart. That was a mighty grief. In Rudeger would die the father of all knightly virtues.
Politely, the good Sir Rudeger bowed deeply. Around them, everyone cried, unable to ease this heartache. It was a great sorrow. In Rudeger, the father of all chivalrous virtues would perish.
Then Folker, the minstrel, spake from out the hall: "Sith my comrade Hagen hath made his peace with you, ye shall have it just as steadfastly from my hand, for well ye earned it, when we came into this land. Most noble margrave, ye shall be mine envoy, too. The margravine gave me these ruddy arm rings, that I should wear them here at the feasting. These ye may yourself behold, that ye may later be my witness."
Then Folker, the minstrel, spoke from the hall: "Since my friend Hagen has made his peace with you, you will receive it just as sincerely from me, because you truly deserve it when we arrived in this land. Most noble margrave, you will be my messenger as well. The margravine gave me these red arm rings to wear here at the feast. You can see them yourself, so that you can later testify for me."
"Now God of heaven grant," spake Rudeger, "that the margravine may give you more! I'll gladly tell these tales to my dear love, if I see her in health again. Of this ye shall not doubt."
"Now may the God of heaven grant," said Rudeger, "that the margravine may give you more! I'll happily share these stories with my dear love if I see her healthy again. You can count on that."
When he had vowed him this, Rudeger raised high his shield. No longer he bided, but with raging mood, like a berserker, he rushed upon the guests. Many a furious blow the noble margrave struck. The twain, Folker and Hagen, stepped further back, as they had vowed to him afore. Still he found standing by the tower such valiant men, that Rudeger began the fight with anxious doubts. With murderous intent Gunther and Gernot let him in, good heroes they! Giselher stood further back, which irked him sore, in truth. He voided Rudeger, for still he had hope of life. Then the margrave's men rushed at their foes; in knightly wise one saw them follow their lord. In their hands they bare their keen-edged swords, the which cleft there many a helm and lordly shield. The tired warriors dealt the men of Bechelaren many a mighty blow, that cut smooth and deep through the shining mail, down to the very quick.
When he had made this promise, Rudeger raised his shield high. No longer did he wait, but with a fierce rage, like a berserker, he charged at the guests. The noble margrave struck many furious blows. Folker and Hagen stepped back, as they had promised him before. Still, he found such brave men standing by the tower that Rudeger began the fight filled with anxious doubts. With deadly intent, Gunther and Gernot let him in, those noble heroes! Giselher stood further back, which truly annoyed him. He avoided Rudeger, for he still had hope of survival. Then the margrave's men rushed at their enemies; one could see them follow their lord with knightly resolve. They held their sharp swords, which cleaved through many helmets and noble shields. The weary warriors dealt the men of Bechelaren many powerful blows that sliced smoothly and deeply through the shining armor, down to the very flesh.
Rudeger's noble fellowship was now come quite within. Into the fight Folker and Hagen sprang anon. They gave no quarter, save to one man alone. Through the hands of the twain the blood streamed down from the helmets. How grimly rang the many swords within! The shield plates sprang from their fastenings, and the precious stones, cut from the shields, fell down into the gore. So grimly they fought, that men will never do the like again. The lord of Bechelaren raged to and fro, as one who wotteth how to use great prowess in the fray. Passing like to a worshipful champion and a bold did Rudeger bear him on that day. Here stood the warriors, Gunther and Gernot, and smote many a hero dead in the fray. Giselher and Dankwart, the twain, recked so little, that they brought full many a knight to his last day of life. Full well did Rudeger make appear that he was strong enow, brave and well-armed. Ho, what knights he slew! This a Burgundian espied; perforce it angered him, and thus Sir Rudeger's death drew near.
Rudeger’s noble fellowship was now fully engaged. Folker and Hagen jumped into the fight immediately. They showed no mercy, except to one man. Blood poured down from the helmets through the hands of the two of them. The sounds of swords clashing echoed grimly! The shields came loose from their fittings, and precious stones, cut from the shields, fell into the blood. They fought so fiercely that no one will ever fight like that again. The lord of Bechelaren moved back and forth like someone who knew how to wield great strength in battle. Like a honored champion and a brave warrior, Rudeger carried himself that day. The warriors Gunther and Gernot stood here, killing many heroes in the fight. Giselher and Dankwart, the two of them, cared so little that they sent many knights to their final moments. Rudeger made it clear that he was strong enough, brave, and well-armed. Oh, what knights he killed! A Burgundian saw this, which naturally angered him, and so Sir Rudeger’s death drew near.
The stalwart Gernot accosted the hero; to the margrave he spake: "It appeareth, ye will not leave my men alive, most noble Rudeger. That irketh me beyond all measure, no longer can I bear the sight. So may your present work you harm, sith ye have taken from me such store of friends. Pray address you unto me, most noble man and brave, your gift shall be paid for as best I can."
The steadfast Gernot confronted the hero and said to the margrave, "It seems you won’t let my men live, noble Rudeger. That troubles me more than anything; I can no longer stand to watch. May your current actions bring you harm, since you’ve taken so many of my friends from me. Please speak to me, brave and noble man, and I’ll repay your gift as best I can."
Or ever the margrave could reach his foe, bright armor rings must needs grow dull with blood. Then at each other sprang these honor-seeking men. Either gan guard him against mighty wounds. So sharp were their swords, that naught might avail against them. Then Rudeger, the knight, smote Gernot a buffet through his helmet, the which was as hard as flint, so that the blood gushed forth. But this the bold knight and good repaid eftsoon. High in his hand he now poised Rudeger's gift, and though wounded unto death, he smote him a stroke through his good and trusty shield down to his helmet band. And so fair Gotelind's husband was done to death. Certes, so rich a gift was never worse repaid. So fell alike both Gernot and Rudeger, slain in the fray, through each other's hand.
Or before the margrave could reach his enemy, the shiny armor had to lose its luster from the blood. Then these honor-driven men sprang at each other. Both guarded themselves against heavy blows. Their swords were so sharp that nothing could stand against them. Then Rudeger, the knight, struck Gernot a blow through his helmet, which was as hard as stone, causing blood to gush out. But the brave and noble knight quickly retaliated. He raised Rudeger’s gift high in his hand, and though mortally wounded, he dealt him a strike that went through his sturdy and reliable shield down to his helmet band. And so, Gotelind’s husband was killed. Indeed, such a valuable gift was never repaid so poorly. Thus, both Gernot and Rudeger fell, slain in battle by each other’s hands.
Then first waxed Hagen wroth, when he saw the monstrous scathe. Quoth the hero of Troneg: "Evil hath it fared with us. In these two men we have taken a loss so great that neither their land nor people will e'er recover from the blow. Rudeger's champions must answer to us homeless men."
Then Hagen became very angry when he saw the terrible damage. The hero of Troneg said: "We have suffered a great loss. These two men have caused us a blow so severe that neither their land nor their people will ever fully recover. Rudeger's champions must answer to us, the homeless."
"Alas for my brother, who hath here been done to death. What evil tales I hear all time! Noble Rudeger, too, must ever rue me. The loss and the grievous wounds are felt on either side."
"Sadly for my brother, who has been killed here. What terrible stories I hear all the time! Noble Rudeger will always regret me, too. The loss and the painful wounds are felt on both sides."
When Lord Giselher saw his betrothed's father dead, those within the hall were forced to suffer need. Fiercely death sought his fellowship; not one of those of Bechelaren escaped with life. Gunther and Giselher and Hagen, too, Dankwart and Folker, the right good knights, went to where they found the two men lying. Then by these heroes tears of grief were shed.
When Lord Giselher saw his fiancée's father dead, everyone in the hall had to endure hardship. Death relentlessly pursued him; not one of the people from Bechelaren survived. Gunther, Giselher, Hagen, Dankwart, and Folker, the brave knights, went to where they found the two men lying. Then these heroes shed tears of sorrow.
"Death doth sorely rob us," spake Giselher, the youth. "Now give over your weeping and go we bite the breeze, that the mailed armor of us storm-weary men may cool. Certes, I ween, that God in heaven vouchsafeth us no more to live."
"Death really takes a lot from us," said Giselher, the young man. "Now stop your crying and let's go enjoy the fresh air, so our heavy armor can cool off. Honestly, I think God in heaven isn’t going to let us live much longer."
This champion was seen to sit and that to lean against the wall, but all again were idle. Rudeger's heroes lay still in death. The din had died away; the hush endured so long, it vexed King Etzel.
This champion was seen sitting while another leaned against the wall, but everyone else was inactive. Rudeger's heroes lay silent in death. The noise had faded; the silence lasted so long that it irritated King Etzel.
"Alack for such services," spake the queen. "They be not so true, that our foes must pay with their life at Rudeger's hands. I trow, he doth wish to lead them back to the Burgundian land. What booteth it, King Etzel, that we have given him whatso he would? The knight hath done amiss, he who should avenge us, doth make his peace."
"Alas for such services," said the queen. "They're not so genuine that our enemies must pay with their lives at Rudeger's hands. I think he wants to lead them back to Burgundy. What good is it, King Etzel, that we've given him whatever he wanted? The knight has gone wrong; the one who should avenge us is making his peace."
To this Folker, the full dapper knight, made answer: "This is not true, alas, most noble queen. Durst I give the lie to such a high-born dame, then had ye most foully lied against Rudeger. He and his champions be cozened in this peace. So eagerly he did what the king commanded, that he and all his fellowship lie here in death. Now look around you, Kriemhild, to see whom ye may now command. The good Knight Rudeger hath served you to his end. And ye will not believe the tale, we'll let you see."
To this, the stylish knight responded: "That's not true, oh most noble queen. If I dared to call out such a high-born lady as a liar, then you have most shamefully lied about Rudeger. He and his champions have been deceived in this peace. He followed the king's orders so eagerly that he and all his friends are now here in death. Now take a look around you, Kriemhild, and see who you can command. The good Knight Rudeger served you until the end. And if you won't believe the story, we'll show you."
To their great grief 'twas done; they bare the slain hero to where the king might see him. Never had there happed to Etzel's men a grief so great. When they saw the margrave borne forth dead, no scribe might write or tell the frantic grief of men and women, which there gan show itself from dole of heart. King Etzel's sorrow waxed so great that the mighty king did voice his woe of heart, as with a lion's roar. Likewise did his queen. Beyond all measure they bewailed the good Knight Rudeger's death.
To their deep sadness, it was done; they carried the fallen hero to where the king could see him. Never had Etzel's men experienced such immense grief. When they saw the margrave being brought out dead, no writer could capture or convey the frantic sorrow of the men and women, which was clear from their broken hearts. King Etzel's sorrow grew so intense that the powerful king expressed his anguish with a roar like a lion. The queen did the same. They mourned the death of the noble Knight Rudeger beyond all measure.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Parlous", older English for 'perilous'. (2) "Fey", 'doomed to death', here in the sense of 'already slain'. See Adventure V, note 2. (3) "Strangers", i.e., those who are sojourning there far from home.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Parlous", an old English term for 'dangerous'. (2) "Fey", meaning 'doomed to die', used here to imply 'already dead'. See Adventure V, note 2. (3) "Strangers", referring to those who are staying there far from home.
ADVENTURE XXXVIII. How All Sir Dietrich's Warriors Were Slain.
On every side one heard a grief so great, that the palace and the towers rang with the wailing. Then a liegeman of Dietrich heard it, too. How quickly he gan haste him with the fearful tales! To the lording he spake: "Hear, my lord, Sir Dietrich, however much I've lived to see till now, yet heard I never such a monstrous wail, as now hath reached mine ears. I ween, King Etzel himself hath come to grief. How else might all be so distressed? One of the twain, the king or Kriemhild, hath sorely been laid low by the brave strangers in their wrath. Full many a dapper warrior weepeth passing sore."
On every side, there was such intense grief that the palace and towers echoed with the crying. Then one of Dietrich's knights heard it too. He quickly rushed to deliver the terrifying news. To his lord, he said: "Listen, my lord Sir Dietrich, no matter how much I’ve seen in my life, I have never heard such a terrible wail as the one reaching me now. I fear King Etzel himself has suffered a great loss. How else could everyone be so upset? One of the two—either the king or Kriemhild—has been seriously harmed by the brave strangers in their anger. So many brave warriors are crying deeply."
Then spake the Knight of Borne: "My faithful men, now haste ye not too fast. Whatever the homeless warriors may have done, they be now in mickle need. Let it profit them, that I did offer them my peace."
Then spoke the Knight of Borne: "My loyal men, don't rush too quickly. No matter what the homeless warriors have done, they are now in great need. Let it benefit them that I offered them my peace."
At this brave Wolfhart spake: "I will hie me hence and ask for tidings of what they have done, and will tell you then, my most dear lord, just as I find it, what the wail may be."
At this, the brave Wolfhart said: "I will go now and ask for news about what they have done, and I will tell you then, my dear lord, exactly what I find out, what the situation may be."
Then spake Sir Dietrich: "Where one awaiteth wrath, and rude questions then are put, this doth lightly sadden the lofty mood of warriors. In truth, I will not, Wolfhart, that ye ask these questions of them."
Then Sir Dietrich said: "When someone is expecting anger, and then harsh questions are asked, it easily brings down the spirits of warriors. Honestly, I don't want you, Wolfhart, to ask them these questions."
Then he told Helfrich (1) to hasten thither speedily, and bade him find from Etzel's men or from the guests themselves, what there had fortuned, for men had never seen from folks so great a grief. The messenger gan ask: "What hath here been done?"
Then he told Helfrich (1) to hurry there quickly and asked him to find out from Etzel's men or the guests themselves what had happened, for no one had ever seen such great sorrow from such important people. The messenger started to ask: "What has happened here?"
At this one among them spake: "Whatever of joy we had in the Hunnish land hath passed away. Here lieth Rudeger, slain by the Burgundians' hands; and of those who were come with him, not one hath 'scaped alive."
At this point, one of them said: "Any joy we had in the land of the Huns is gone. Here lies Rudeger, killed by the Burgundians; and of those who came with him, not one has escaped alive."
Sir Helfrich could never have had a greater dole. Sorely weeping, the envoy went to Dietrich. Never was he so loth to tell a tale. "What have ye found for us?" quoth Dietrich. "Why weep ye so sore, Knight Helfrich?"
Sir Helfrich could never have received a greater blow. Deeply crying, the envoy went to Dietrich. He had never been so reluctant to share a story. "What have you found for us?" Dietrich asked. "Why are you crying so much, Knight Helfrich?"
Then spake the noble champion: "I have good cause for wail. The Burgundians have slain the good Sir Rudeger."
Then the noble champion said, "I have a good reason to mourn. The Burgundians have killed the good Sir Rudeger."
At this the hero of Berne made answer: "Now God forbid. That were a fearful vengeance, over which the foul fiend would gloat. Wherewith hath Rudeger deserved this at their hands? I know full well, forsooth, he is the strangers' friend."
At this, the hero of Berne replied, "God forbid. That would be a terrible revenge that the evil one would revel in. What has Rudeger done to deserve this from them? I know very well he is a friend to strangers."
To this Wolfhart answered: "And have they done this deed, 'twill cost them all their lives. 'Twould be our shame, should we let this pass, for of a truth the hand of the good knight Rudeger hath served us much and oft."
To this, Wolfhart replied, "If they did this, it will cost them their lives. It would be a shame for us to let this slide because the good knight Rudeger has helped us a lot and many times."
The lord of the Amelungs bade learn it better. In bitter grief he sate him at a window and begged Hildebrand to hie him to the strangers, that he might find from them what had been done. The storm-brave warrior, Master Hildebrand, (2) bare neither shield nor weapon in his hand. In courtly wise he would hie him to the strangers; for this he was chided by his sister's son. Grim Wolfhart spake: "And ye will go thither so bare, ye will never fare without upbraiding; ye must return with shame. But if ye go there armed, each will guard against that well."
The lord of the Amelungs urged him to find out more. Deeply saddened, he sat by a window and asked Hildebrand to hurry to the strangers to learn what had happened. The brave warrior, Master Hildebrand, went without a shield or weapon. He intended to approach the strangers respectfully, but his sister's son scolded him for it. Grim Wolfhart said, "If you go there unarmed, you'll only come back with shame; you need to go in armed, so everyone will be cautious."
Then the wise man armed him, through the counsel of youth. Or ever he was ware, all Dietrich's warriors had donned their war-weeds and held in their hands their swords. Loth it was to the hero, and he would have gladly turned their mind. He asked whither they would go.
Then the wise man equipped him, guided by the advice of youth. Before he even realized it, all of Dietrich's warriors had put on their battle gear and were holding their swords. The hero found it hard to accept, and he would have gladly changed their minds. He asked where they were planning to go.
"We will hence with you. Perchance Hagen of Troneg then will dare the less to address him to you with scorn, which full well he knoweth how to use." When he heard this, the knight vouchsafed them for to go.
"We will go with you. Perhaps Hagen of Troneg will be less likely to speak to you with disdain, which he certainly knows how to do." When he heard this, the knight agreed to let them go.
Soon brave Folker saw the champions of Berne, the liegemen of Dietrich, march along, well armed, begirt with swords, while in their hands they bare their shields. He told it to his lords from out the Burgundian land. The fiddler spake: "Yonder I see the men of Dietrich march along in right hostile wise, armed cap-a-pie. They would encounter us; I ween 'twill go full ill with us strangers."
Soon brave Folker saw the champions of Berne, the loyal men of Dietrich, marching by, well-armed, with swords at their sides and shields in hand. He informed his lords from the Burgundian land. The fiddler said, "Over there, I see the men of Dietrich marching in a very hostile manner, fully armed. They must be planning to confront us; I fear things will go badly for us outsiders."
Meanwhile Sir Hildebrand was come. Before his feet he placed his shield, and gan ask Gunther's men: "Alas, good heroes, what had Rudeger done you? My Lord Dietrich hath sent me hither to you to say, that if the hand of any among you hath slain the noble margrave, as we are told, we could never stand such mighty dole."
Meanwhile, Sir Hildebrand arrived. He placed his shield at his feet and asked Gunther's men, "Oh no, brave warriors, what did Rudeger do to you? My lord Dietrich sent me to tell you that if any of you has killed the noble margrave, as we've heard, we could never bear such great sorrow."
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "The tale is true. How gladly could I wish, that the messenger had told you false, for Rudeger's sake, and that he still did live, for whom both man and wife may well ever weep."
Then Hagen of Troneg said, "The story is true. How much I wish that the messenger had brought you false news, for Rudeger's sake, and that he were still alive, for whom both men and women can truly mourn."
When they heard aright that he was dead, the warriors made wail for him, as their fealty bade them. Over the beards and chins of Dietrich's champions the tears were seen to run. Great grief had happened to them.
When they realized he was truly dead, the warriors cried out for him, as their loyalty required. Tears flowed down the beards and chins of Dietrich's champions. They were filled with deep sorrow.
Siegstab, (3) the Duke of Berne, then spake: "Now hath come to an end the cheer, that Rudeger did give us after our days of dole. The joy of all wayfaring folk lieth slain by you, sir knights."
Siegstab, (3) the Duke of Berne, then said: "The celebration that Rudeger offered us after our difficult times has now ended. The happiness of all travelers has been destroyed by you, knights."
Then spake the Knight Wolfwin (4) of the Amelungs: "And I saw mine own father dead to-day, I should not make greater dole, than for his death. Alas, who shall now comfort the good margrave's wife?"
Then spoke Knight Wolfwin (4) of the Amelungs: "And when I saw my own father dead today, I couldn’t grieve more than I do for his death. Alas, who will now comfort the good margrave's wife?"
Angry of mood Knight Wolfhart spake: "Who shall now lead the warriors to so many a fight, as the margrave so oft hath done? Alas, most noble Rudeger, that we should lose thee thus!"
Angry and upset, Knight Wolfhart said: "Who will now lead the warriors into battle as the margrave has so often done? Alas, most noble Rudeger, that we should lose you like this!"
Wolfbrand (5) and Helfrich and Helmnot, too, with all their men bewailed his death. For sighing Hildebrand might no longer ask a whit. He spake: "Sir knights, now do what my lord hath sent you here to do. Give us the corse of Rudeger from out the hall, in whom our joy hath turned to grief, and let us repay to him the great fealty he hath shown to us and to many another man. We, too, be exiles, just as Rudeger, the knight. Why do ye let us wait thus? Let us bear him away, that we may yet requite the knight in death. More justly had we done it, when he was still alive."
Wolfbrand (5) and Helfrich and Helmnot, along with all their men, mourned his death. Hildebrand, who could only sigh, spoke up: "Knights, now do what my lord has sent you here to do. Bring Rudeger's body out of the hall, for our joy has turned to sorrow, and let us repay him for the great loyalty he has shown to us and to many others. We are also exiles, just like Rudeger, the knight. Why do you make us wait like this? Let us carry him away, so we can honor the knight in death. It would have been more fitting to do it when he was still alive."
Then spake King Gunther: "Never was there so good a service as that, which a friend doth do to a friend after his death. When any doeth that, I call it faithful friendship. Ye repay him but rightly, for much love hath he ever shown you."
Then King Gunther said, "There has never been a greater service than what a friend does for another friend after they’ve passed away. When someone does that, I consider it true friendship. You’re honoring him as he deserves, for he has always shown you great love."
"How long shall we still beseech?" spake Knight Wolfhart. "Sith our best hope hath been laid low in death by you, and we may no longer have him with us, let us bear him hence to where the warrior may be buried."
"How much longer shall we plead?" said Knight Wolfhart. "Since our greatest hope has been taken from us by death, and we can no longer have him with us, let us take him away to where the warrior can be buried."
To this Folker made answer: "None will give him to you. Fetch ye him from the hall where the warrior lieth, fallen in the blood, with mortal wounds. 'Twill then be a perfect service, which ye render Rudeger."
To this, Folker replied, "No one will hand him over to you. Go get him from the hall where the warrior lies, fallen in blood and with deadly wounds. That will be a true service you do for Rudeger."
Quoth brave Wolfhart: "God wot, sir minstrel, ye have given us great dole and should not rouse our ire. But that I durst not for fear of my lord, ye should all fare ill. We must perforce abstain, sith he forbade us strife."
Quoth brave Wolfhart: "Honestly, sir minstrel, you have caused us great pain and should not anger us. If I weren't afraid of my lord, you would all be in trouble. We have to hold back since he has forbidden us from fighting."
Then spake the fiddler: "He hath a deal too much fear who doth abstain from all that one forbiddeth him. That I call not a real hero's mood." This speech of his war comrade thought Hagen good.
Then the fiddler said, "Anyone with too much fear avoids everything they're told not to do. I wouldn't call that a real hero's mindset." Hagen, his fellow warrior, thought well of this speech.
"Long not for that," answered Wolfhart, "or I'll play such havoc with your fiddle strings, that ye'll have cause to tell the tale, when ye ride homeward to the Rhine. I cannot brook in honor your overweening pride."
"Don’t wish for that," replied Wolfhart, "or I’ll ruin your violin strings so badly that you’ll have a story to share when you ride back home to the Rhine. I can’t tolerate your excessive pride."
Quoth the fiddler: "If ye put out of tune my strings, then must the gleam of your helmet grow dim from this hand of mine, however I ride to the Burgundian land."
Quoth the fiddler: "If you mess up my strings, then the shine of your helmet will fade from my hand, no matter how I travel to the Burgundian land."
Then would he leap at him, but his uncle Hildebrand grasped him firmly. "I ween, thou wouldst rage in thy silly anger. Then hadst thou lost forever the favor of my lord."
Then he would leap at him, but his uncle Hildebrand held him firmly. "I see you would go wild in your foolish anger. If you did, you would lose my lord's favor forever."
"Let go the lion, master, he is so fierce of mood," quoth the good knight Folker. "Had he slain the whole world with his one hand, I'll smite him, and he come within my reach, so that he may never sing the answer to my song."
"Let the lion go, master, he's in such a fierce mood," said the good knight Folker. "Even if he could kill the whole world with one hand, I'll strike him down if he comes within my reach, so he can never respond to my song."
At this the men of Berne waxed passing wroth of mood. Wolfhart, a doughty knight and a good, snatched up his shield. Like a wild lion he ran to meet him, swiftly followed by all his friends. But howsoever great the strides he took towards the hall, yet did old Hildebrand overtake him at the steps. He would not let him reach the fray before him. At the hands of the homeless knights they later found the strife they sought. Master Hildebrand then sprang at Hagen. In the hands of both one heard the swords ring out. That both were angry, might be plainly seen; from the swords of the twain streamed forth a blast of fire-red sparks. Then they were parted in the stress of battle by the men of Berne, as their strength did bid them. At once Hildebrand turned him away from Hagen, but stout Wolfhart addressed him to Folker the bold. Such a blow he smote the fiddler upon his good helmet, that the sword's edge pierced to the very helmet bands. This the bold gleeman repaid with might; he smote Wolfhart, so that the sparks flew wide. Enow of fire they struck from the armor rings, for each bare hatred to the other. Then Knight Wolfwin of Berne did part them—an' he be not a hero, never was there one.
At this, the men of Berne became extremely angry. Wolfhart, a brave knight, grabbed his shield and ran like a wild lion to confront him, quickly followed by all his friends. But no matter how fast he rushed toward the hall, old Hildebrand caught up with him at the steps. He wouldn’t let Wolfhart reach the battle before him. Later, they found the conflict they were looking for at the hands of the homeless knights. Master Hildebrand then lunged at Hagen. Their swords clashed loudly in their hands. It was clear that both were furious, as flames of red sparks flew from their swords. The men of Berne separated them in the heat of battle, as their strength allowed. Hildebrand immediately turned away from Hagen, but brave Wolfhart focused on Folker the Bold. He struck the fiddler hard on his sturdy helmet, breaking through to the helmet bands. The bold minstrel responded with force, hitting Wolfhart so hard that sparks flew everywhere. They created plenty of sparks from their armor, as each one despised the other. Then Knight Wolfwin of Berne came in to separate them—if he isn’t a hero, then there has never been one.
With willing hand Gunther, the champion, greeted the heroes of the Amelung land. Lord Giselher made many a gleaming helmet red and wet with blood. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, a fierce man was he; whatever he had done before to Etzel's warriors in strife was as a wind to the fury with which bold Aldrian's son now fought. Ritschart (6) and Gerbart, Helfrich and Wichart had spared themselves full seldom in many battle storms; this they now made Gunther's liegemen note full well. Wolfbrand, too, was seen in the strife bearing him in lordly wise. Old Hildebrand fought as though he raged. At Wolfhart's hands many good knights, struck by the sword, must needs fall dead down into the blood. Thus the bold champions and good avenged Knight Rudeger.
With a willing hand, Gunther, the champion, welcomed the heroes of the Amelung land. Lord Giselher stained many shining helmets red and wet with blood. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, was a fierce man; whatever he had done before to Etzel's warriors in battle was nothing compared to the fury with which bold Aldrian's son fought now. Ritschart (6) and Gerbart, Helfrich and Wichart rarely held back in the many storms of battle; they made sure that Gunther's men noticed this well. Wolfbrand was also seen in the fight, carrying himself with a noble bearing. Old Hildebrand fought like he was on fire. Many good knights fell dead in the blood from Wolfhart's sword. Thus, the brave champions avenged Knight Rudeger.
Then Lord Siegstab fought as his prowess bade him. Ho, what good helmets of his foes this son of Dietrich's sister clove in the strife! Nor might he ever do better in the fray. When sturdy Folker espied that bold Siegstab hewed a bloody stream from the hard armor rings, wroth of mood the hero grew. He sprang to meet him, and Siegstab lost his life full soon at the fiddler's hands, for Folker gave him such a sample of his art, that he soon lay dead, slain by his sword. This old Hildebrand avenged, as his might did bid him.
Then Lord Siegstab fought as he was skilled to do. Wow, what great helmets this son of Dietrich's sister smashed during the battle! He couldn't have done any better in the fight. When sturdy Folker saw that brave Siegstab was cutting a bloody path through the tough armor, he grew angry. He charged at him, and Siegstab quickly lost his life at the hands of the fiddler. Folker showed him just how talented he was, and soon Siegstab lay dead, killed by his sword. Old Hildebrand avenged this, as his strength compelled him to do.
"Alas for my dear lord," spake Master Hildebrand, "who lieth here dead at Folker's hands. Now shall the fiddler no longer live."
"Unfortunately for my dear lord," said Master Hildebrand, "who lies here dead at Folker's hands. Now the fiddler shall no longer live."
How might bold Hildebrand ever be fiercer? Folker he smote, so that on all sides the clasps flew to the walls of the hall from helmet and shield of the doughty gleeman. Thus stout Folker was done to death. At this the men of Dietrich pressed forward to the strife. They smote so that the armor rings whirled far and wide, and high through the air the sword-points wore seen to fly. From the helmets they drew the warm gushing stream of blood. When Hagen of Troneg saw Folker dead, that was the greatest sorrow, that he had gained at the feasting in kinsman or in liegeman. Alas, how fiercely Hagen gan venge the knight! "Now old Hildebrand shall not profit by this deed. My helpmate lieth slain by the hero's hand, the best war comrade that I did ever win." Higher he raised his helmet, and ran, slashing as he went.
How could brave Hildebrand ever become fiercer? He struck Folker so hard that the clasps flew off his helmet and shield, scattering against the hall walls. Thus, the valiant Folker met his end. At this, Dietrich’s men charged into the battle. They struck so fiercely that the rings of armor flew far and wide, and the tips of swords soared high into the air. They drew forth the warm, gushing stream of blood from the helmets. When Hagen of Troneg saw Folker dead, it was his greatest sorrow, having lost a kinsman and a loyal companion at the feast. Oh, how fiercely Hagen sought vengeance for the knight! "Now old Hildebrand won't benefit from this act. My ally lies slain by the hero's hand, the best battle companion I've ever had." He raised his helmet higher and rushed in, slashing as he went.
Stout Helfrich slew Dankwart. Loth enow it was to Gunther and Giselher, when they saw him fall in cruel need, but with his own hands he himself had well avenged his death. Meanwhile Wolfhart raged back and forth, hewing alway King Gunther's men. For the third time he was come through the hall, and many a warrior fell, struck by his hands.
Stout Helfrich killed Dankwart. It was quite a blow to Gunther and Giselher when they saw him fall in dire circumstances, but he had avenged his own death. Meanwhile, Wolfhart was in a frenzy, cutting down King Gunther's men. For the third time, he came through the hall, and many warriors fell, struck by his hands.
Then Lord Giselher cried out to Wolfhart: "Alas, that I have ever gained so grim a foe! Noble knight and brave, now address you unto me. I'll help to make an end; this may be no longer."
Then Lord Giselher shouted to Wolfhart: "Oh, how unfortunate that I've ever faced such a fierce enemy! Noble and brave knight, now turn your attention to me. I'll help to put an end to this; it can't go on any longer."
At this Wolfhart turned him in strife to Giselher, and each smote other many a gaping wound. He pressed so mightily toward the king, that the blood beneath his feet spurted high above his head. With grim and fearful blows the son of fair Uta then greeted the brave knight Wolfhart. However strong the warrior, he might not save his life. Never could so young a king have been more brave; Wolfhart he smote through his stout hauberk, that his blood streamed down from the wound. Unto death he wounded Dietrich's liegeman. None save a champion had done such deed. When brave Wolfhart felt the wound, he let fall his shield and lifted higher in his hand his mighty sword (sharp enow it was); through both helmet and armor rings the hero smote Giselher. Thus each did other fiercely unto death.
At this, Wolfhart turned to Giselher, and they each struck each other with deep wounds. He pressed so hard toward the king that blood spurted up high above his head. With fierce and terrifying blows, the son of fair Uta then attacked the brave knight Wolfhart. No matter how strong the warrior was, he couldn't save his life. Never could a young king have been braver; Wolfhart was struck through his sturdy armor, causing blood to stream down from the wound. He inflicted a fatal wound on Dietrich's vassal. No one but a true champion had done such a thing. When brave Wolfhart felt the injury, he dropped his shield and raised his mighty sword (which was sharp enough); through both helmet and armor, the hero struck Giselher. Thus, they fought each other fiercely to the death.
Now was none left of Dietrich's men. Old Hildebrand saw Wolfhart fall; never before his death, I ween, did such dole happen to him. The men of Gunther all lay dead, and those of Dietrich, too. Hildebrand hied him to where Wolfhart had fallen in the gore, and clasped in his arms the brave knight and good. He would fain bear him from the hall, but he was a deal too heavy, and so he must needs let him lie. Then the dying warrior looked upward from the blood in which he lay; well he saw, that his uncle would fain help him hence. Though wounded unto death, he spake: "Dear uncle mine, ye may not aid me now. 'Tis well, methinks, that ye should guard you against Hagen. A fierce mood he beareth in his heart. And if perchance my kinsmen would mourn me after I am dead; pray tell the nearest and the best, that they weep not for me; there is no need of that. At the hands of a king I have met a glorious death and have also avenged me, so that the wives of the good knights may well bewail it. If any ask you of this, ye may boldly say, that full a hundred lie slain by my hand alone."
Now there were none left of Dietrich's men. Old Hildebrand saw Wolfhart fall; never before his death, I think, had such sorrow come to him. All of Gunther's men lay dead, and those of Dietrich, too. Hildebrand hurried to where Wolfhart had fallen in the blood and held the brave knight close. He wanted to carry him from the hall, but he was far too heavy, so he had to let him lie there. Then the dying warrior looked up from the blood in which he lay; he could see well that his uncle wanted to help him. Though mortally wounded, he spoke: "Dear uncle, you cannot help me now. It's best that you protect yourself from Hagen. He has a fierce anger in his heart. And if perhaps my relatives mourn for me after I'm gone, please tell those closest and finest not to weep for me; there’s no need for that. At the hands of a king, I have met a glorious death and avenged myself, so the wives of the good knights may grieve. If anyone asks you about this, you can boldly say that a full hundred lie slain by my hand alone."
Then Hagen, too, bethought him of the gleeman, whom bold Hildebrand had robbed of life. To the knight he spake: "Ye'll requite me now my sorrows. Through your hatred ye have bereft us of many a lusty knight."
Then Hagen also remembered the minstrel, whom brave Hildebrand had killed. He said to the knight: "Now you will repay me for my pain. Because of your hatred, you have taken many strong knights from us."
He dealt Hildebrand such a blow, that men heard Balmung ring, the which bold Hagen had taken from Siegfried, when he slew the knight. Then the old man warded him; in sooth he was brave enow. Dietrich's champion struck with a broad sword, that cut full sore, at the hero of Troneg, but could not wound King Gunther's liegeman. Hagen, however, smote him through his well-wrought hauberk. When old Hildebrand felt the wound, he feared more scathe at Hagen's hand; his shield he slung across his back and thus Sir Dietrich's man escaped from Hagen, though sorely wounded.
He hit Hildebrand with such force that everyone heard Balmung ring, which brave Hagen had taken from Siegfried when he killed the knight. Then the old man protected himself; truly, he was quite brave. Dietrich's champion attacked with a broad sword that could cut deeply, aiming for the hero of Troneg, but he couldn't hurt King Gunther's vassal. However, Hagen managed to strike him through his well-crafted armor. When old Hildebrand felt the injury, he feared more harm from Hagen; he slung his shield across his back and thus Sir Dietrich's man escaped from Hagen, though he was badly wounded.
Now of all the knights none was alive save the twain, Gunther and Hagen alone. Dripping with blood old Hildebrand went to where he found Dietrich, and told him the baleful tale. He saw him sitting sadly, but much more of dole the prince now gained. He spied Hildebrand in his blood-red hauberk, and asked him tidings, as his fears did prompt him.
Now, among all the knights, only two were alive: Gunther and Hagen. Covered in blood, old Hildebrand approached Dietrich and shared the grim news. He noticed Dietrich sitting there, looking sorrowful, but the prince felt even more grief. He saw Hildebrand in his blood-soaked armor and asked him what had happened, as his worries compelled him.
"Now tell me, Master Hildebrand, how be ye so wet with your lifeblood? Pray who hath done you this? I ween, ye have fought with the strangers in the hall. I forbade it you so sorely, that ye should justly have avoided it."
"Now tell me, Master Hildebrand, why are you so soaked with your blood? Please, who did this to you? I believe you have fought with the outsiders in the hall. I warned you so strongly that you should have definitely avoided it."
Then said he to his lord: "'Twas Hagen that did it. He dealt me this wound in the hall, when I would fain have turned me from the knight. I scarce escaped the devil with my life."
Then he said to his lord: "It was Hagen who did it. He gave me this wound in the hall when I tried to turn away from the knight. I barely escaped with my life."
Then spake the Lord of Berne: "Rightly hath it happed you, for that ye have broken the peace, which I had sworn them, sith ye did hear me vow friendship to the knights. Were it not mine everlasting shame, ye should lose your life."
Then spoke the Lord of Berne: "You have brought this upon yourselves because you broke the peace that I promised them, since you heard me vow friendship to the knights. If it weren’t for my everlasting shame, you would lose your life."
"My Lord Dietrich, now be ye not so wroth; the damage to my friends and me is all too great. Fain would we have carried Rudeger's corse away, but King Gunther's liegemen would not grant it us."
"My Lord Dietrich, please don’t be so angry; the damage to my friends and me is all too much. We would have gladly taken Rudeger’s body away, but King Gunther’s men would not allow it."
"Woe is me of these sorrows! If Rudeger then be dead, 'twill bring me greater dole, than all my woe. Noble Gotelind is the child of my father's sister; alas for the poor orphans, that be now in Bechelaren."
"Woe is me for these sorrows! If Rudeger is dead, it will cause me greater grief than all my misery. Noble Gotelind is the child of my father's sister; alas for the poor orphans who are now in Bechelaren."
Rudeger's death now minded him of ruth and dole. Mightily the hero gan weep; in sooth he had good cause. "Alas for this faithful comrade whom I have lost! In truth I shall ever mourn for King Etzel's liegeman. Can ye tell me, Master Hildebrand, true tidings, who be the knight, that hath slain him there?"
Rudeger's death now filled him with sorrow and grief. The hero began to weep; he truly had a good reason. "Oh, how I mourn this loyal friend I've lost! Honestly, I will always grieve for King Etzel's knight. Can you, Master Hildebrand, tell me who the knight is that killed him?"
Quoth he: "That stout Gernot did, with might and main, but the hero, too, fell dead at Rudeger's hands."
He said, "That brave Gernot fought with all his strength, but the hero also fell dead at Rudeger’s hands."
Again he spake to Hildebrand: "Pray say to my men, that they arm them quickly, for I will hie me hither, and bid them make ready my shining battle weeds. I myself will question the heroes of the Burgundian land."
Again he spoke to Hildebrand: "Please tell my men to get their armor ready quickly, because I will hurry here, and I want them to prepare my shining battle gear. I will speak to the heroes of the Burgundian land myself."
Then spake Master Hildebrand: "Who then shall join you? Whatso of living men ye have, ye see stand by you. 'Tis I alone; the others, they be dead."
Then Master Hildebrand said, "Who will join you? All the living men you see standing beside you are here. It's just me; the others are all dead."
He started at this tale; forsooth, he had good cause, for never in his life had he gained so great a grief. He spake: "And are my men all dead, then hath God forgotten me, poor Dietrich. Once I was a lordly king, mighty, high, and rich." Again Sir Dietrich spake: "How could it hap, that all the worshipful heroes died at the hands of the battle-weary, who were themselves hard pressed? Were it not for mine ill-luck, death were still a stranger to them. Sith then mine evil fortune would have it so, pray tell me, are any of the strangers still alive?"
He was taken aback by the story; indeed, he had every reason to be, for he had never felt such deep sorrow in his life. He said, “Are all my men really dead? Has God forgotten me, poor Dietrich? Once, I was a noble king, powerful, exalted, and wealthy.” Sir Dietrich continued, “How could it be that all the brave heroes fell at the hands of those weary from battle, who were themselves in a tough spot? If it weren't for my bad luck, death would still be a stranger to them. Since fate has dealt me this unfortunate hand, please tell me, are any of the strangers still alive?”
Then spake Master Hildebrand: "God wet, none other save only Hagen and Gunther, the high-born king."
Then Master Hildebrand said, "God knows, no one else but Hagen and Gunther, the noble king."
"Alas, dear Wolfhart, and I have lost thee too, then may it well rue me, that ever I was born. Siegstab and Wolfwin and Wolfbrand, too! Who then shall help me to the Amelung land? Bold Helfrich, hath he, too, been slain, and Gerbart and Wichart? How shall I ever mourn for them in fitting wise? This day doth forever end my joys. Alas, that none may die for very grief!"
"Unfortunately, dear Wolfhart, I have lost you too; it makes me regret that I was ever born. Siegstab and Wolfwin and Wolfbrand, as well! Who will help me to the Amelung land? Brave Helfrich, has he also been killed, along with Gerbart and Wichart? How can I ever mourn them properly? This day marks the end of all my happiness. It's sad that no one can die from sheer grief!"
ENDNOTES: (1) "Helfrich" appears also in the "Thidreksaga", chap. 330, where we are told that he was the bravest and courtliest of all knights. (2) "Master Hildebrand", see Adventure XXVIII, note 1. (3) "Siegstab" is Dietrich's nephew. He also appears in the "Thidreksaga", but in a different role. (4) "Wolfwin" is mentioned in the "Klage", 1541, as Dietrich's nephew. (5) "Wolfbrand" and "Helmnot" appear only here. (6) "Ritschart". With the exception of Helfrich (see Above note 1), these names do not occur elsewhere, though one of the sons of Haimon was called Wichart.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Helfrich" is also mentioned in the "Thidreksaga", chap. 330, where it states he was the bravest and most courteous of all knights. (2) "Master Hildebrand", see Adventure XXVIII, note 1. (3) "Siegstab" is Dietrich's nephew. He also appears in the "Thidreksaga", but in a different role. (4) "Wolfwin" is referenced in the "Klage", 1541, as Dietrich's nephew. (5) "Wolfbrand" and "Helmnot" are only mentioned here. (6) "Ritschart". Except for Helfrich (see above note 1), these names don’t appear anywhere else, though one of Haimon’s sons was named Wichart.
ADVENTURE XXXIX. How Gunther And Hagen And Kriemhild Were Slain.
Then Sir Dietrich fetched himself his coat of mail, and Master Hildebrand helped him arm. The mighty man made wail so sore, that the whole house resounded with his voice. But then he gained again a real hero's mood. The good knight was now armed and grim of mind; a stout shield he hung upon his arm. Thus he and Master Hildebrand went boldly hence.
Then Sir Dietrich put on his mail coat, and Master Hildebrand helped him get ready. The mighty man cried out so loudly that the entire house echoed with his voice. But then he regained the spirit of a true hero. The brave knight was now fully armed and determined; he strapped a sturdy shield to his arm. With that, he and Master Hildebrand boldly set off.
Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "Yonder I see Sir Dietrich coming hither; he would fain encounter us, after the great sorrow, that hath here befallen him. To-day we shall see, to whom one must give the palm. However strong of body and grim of mood the lord of Berne thinketh him to be, right well dare I match him," so spake Hagen, "an' he will avenge on us that which hath been done him."
Then Hagen of Troneg said, "I see Sir Dietrich coming this way; he wants to face us after the great sorrow he has experienced here. Today, we will see who deserves the victory. No matter how strong and serious the lord of Berne thinks he is, I believe I can take him on," Hagen said, "if he seeks to get revenge for what has happened to him."
Dietrich and Hildebrand heard this speech, for Hagen came to where he found the champion stand before the house, leaning against the wall. Dietrich set his good shield upon the ground, and spake in grievous dole: "Gunther, mighty king, why have ye so acted against me, banished man? What have I done to you? I stand alone, bereft of all my comfort. Ye thought it not enow of bitter need, when ye did kill Knight Rudeger, our friend. Now ye have robbed me of all my men. Forsooth I never had wrought you heroes sorrow such as this. Think on yourselves and on your wrongs. Doth not the death of your kinsmen and all the hardship grieve the minds of you good knights? Alas, what great dole Rudeger's death doth give me! Never in all the world hath more of sorrow happed to any man. Ye thought but little on me and on your pain. Whatsoever joy I had, that lieth slain by you. Certes, I never can bewail my kin enow."
Dietrich and Hildebrand heard the speech because Hagen approached the champion standing in front of the house, leaning against the wall. Dietrich set his good shield on the ground and spoke with deep sorrow: "Gunther, mighty king, why have you acted so against me, an exiled man? What have I done to you? I stand alone, stripped of all my comfort. You didn’t think it was enough to harm me when you killed Knight Rudeger, our friend. Now you've taken away all my men. Truly, I never caused you heroes such sorrow. Think about yourselves and your wrongs. Doesn't the death of your kinsmen and all the hardship trouble you good knights? Alas, the great sorrow Rudeger's death brings me! Never in all the world has anyone experienced more sorrow than I have. You thought little of me and your own pain. Whatever joy I had is now slain by you. Indeed, I can never mourn my kin enough."
"Forsooth we be not so guilty," answered Hagen. "Your warriors came to this hall in a large band, armed with care. Methinks the tale hath not been told you rightly."
"Truly, we're not that guilty," Hagen replied. "Your warriors came to this hall in a large group, armed and ready. I think the story hasn't been told to you correctly."
"What else should I believe? Hildebrand told me, that when my knights from the Amelung land asked that ye should give up Rudeger's corse from out the hall, ye did naught but mock the valiant heroes from above the steps."
"What else am I supposed to believe? Hildebrand told me that when my knights from the Amelung land asked you to give up Rudeger's body from the hall, you just mocked the brave heroes standing at the top of the steps."
Then spake the king from the Rhine: "They said, that they would fain bear Rudeger hence, and I bade this be denied them to vex King Etzel, and not thy men, until then Wolfhart began to rail about it."
Then the king spoke from the Rhine: "They said that they wanted to take Rudeger away, and I ordered that they be denied that to annoy King Etzel, not your men, until Wolfhart started complaining about it."
Then the hero of Berne made answer: "Fate would have it so. Gunther, most noble king, now through thy courtesie requite me of the wrongs, that have happed to me from thee, and make such amends, brave knight, that I may give thee credit for the deed. Give thyself and thy men to me as hostages, and I will guard you, as best I may, that none here do thee aught among the Huns. Thou shalt find me naught but good and true."
Then the hero of Berne replied, "It’s just how fate has decided it. Gunther, our noble king, now please repay me for the wrongs you’ve done to me, and make it right, brave knight, so I can respect your actions. Give yourself and your men to me as hostages, and I’ll protect you as best I can, ensuring that no one here harms you among the Huns. You’ll find me to be nothing but good and trustworthy."
"Now God forbid," quoth Hagen, "that two knights give themselves up to thee, that still do stand opposed to thee so doughtily and walk so unfettered before their foes."
"God forbid," said Hagen, "that two knights surrender to you, who still stand firmly against you and walk freely in front of their enemies."
"Gunther and Hagen, ye should not deny me this," spake Dietrich. "Ye have grieved my heart and mind so sore, that it were but right, and ye would requite me. I give you my hand and troth as pledge, that I will ride with you, home to your land. I'll lead you in all honor, or else lie dead, and for your sakes I will forget my grievous wrongs."
"Gunther and Hagen, you shouldn’t deny me this," Dietrich said. "You’ve hurt my heart and mind so deeply that it would be fair for you to make it up to me. I promise you my hand and my word as a pledge that I’ll ride with you back to your land. I'll lead you with honor, or else I’ll die trying, and for your sake, I’ll forget my painful wrongs."
"Crave this no longer," answered Hagen. "'Twere fitting, that the tale be told of us, that two men so brave had given themselves up to you. We see none standing by you, save Hildebrand alone."
"Stop wanting this," Hagen replied. "It’s only right that the story of us gets told—that two brave men surrendered themselves to you. We see no one standing by you, except for Hildebrand."
Then up spake Master Hildebrand: "God wot, Sir Hagen, the hour will come, when ye will gladly take the peace, if so be any offer to keep it with you. Ye might well content you with the truce my lord doth offer."
Then Master Hildebrand spoke up: "Honestly, Sir Hagen, the time will come when you’ll be eager to accept peace if there's any chance to maintain it with you. You should be satisfied with the truce my lord is offering."
"Forsooth I'd take the truce," quoth Hagen, "or ever I'd flee from out a hall so shamefully as ye did, Master Hildebrand. I weened, ye could stand better against a foe."
"I would definitely take the truce," said Hagen, "before I would run away from a hall as shamefully as you did, Master Hildebrand. I thought you could stand up better against an enemy."
To this Hildebrand made answer: "Why twit ye me with that? Who was it sate upon a shield hard by the Waskstone, (1) when Walter of Spain slew so many of his kin? Ye, too, have faults enow of your own to show."
To this, Hildebrand replied: "Why are you accusing me of that? Who was it that sat on a shield near the Waskstone, (1) when Walter of Spain killed so many of his relatives? You have plenty of your own faults to point out."
Then spake Sir Dietrich: "Ill doth it beseem heroes, that they should scold like aged beldams. I forbid you, Hildebrand, to speak aught more. Grievous wrongs constrain me, homeless warrior. Let's hear, Knight Hagen, what ye twain did speak, ye doughty men, when ye saw me coming toward you armed? Ye said, that ye alone would fain encounter me in strife."
Then Sir Dietrich said, "It's not right for heroes to argue like old women. I forbid you, Hildebrand, to say anything more. Serious issues force me, homeless warrior. Let's hear, Knight Hagen, what you two brave men said when you saw me approach you armed? You said that you alone would like to face me in battle."
"Certes, none doth deny," Knight Hagen spake, "that I will essay it here with mighty blows, unless be, that the sword of Nibelung break in my hand. Wroth am I, that we twain have here been craved as hostages."
"Surely, no one denies," Knight Hagen said, "that I will try my best here with powerful strikes, unless the sword of Nibelung breaks in my hand. I am angry that we have both been demanded as hostages."
When Dietrich noted Hagen's raging mood, quickly the doughty knight and good snatched up his shield. How swiftly Hagen sprang toward him from the steps! Loudly the good sword of Nibelung rang on Dietrich's head. Then wist Dietrich well, that the bold knight was grim of mood. The lord of Berne gan guard him against the fearful blows, for well he knew Hagen, the stately knight. Balmung he also feared, a weapon stout enow. Dietrich returned the blows at times in cunning wise, until at last he conquered Hagen in the strife. A wound he dealt him, the which was deep and long. Then Lord Dietrich thought him: "Thou art worn out with strife; little honor shall I have, and thou liest dead before me. I will try, if perchance I can force thee to be my hostage."
When Dietrich saw Hagen's furious mood, the brave knight quickly grabbed his shield. Hagen leaped toward him from the steps in an instant! The good sword of Nibelung clashed loudly against Dietrich's head. Then Dietrich realized that the bold knight was in a dark mood. The lord of Berne stood ready to defend himself against the powerful blows, for he knew well Hagen, the impressive knight. He also feared Balmung, a weapon strong enough. Dietrich skillfully countered the blows for a while until he finally defeated Hagen in the fight. He inflicted a wound that was deep and long. Then Lord Dietrich thought to himself: "You’re exhausted from the struggle; I won’t gain much honor if you lie dead before me. I’ll see if I can force you to become my hostage."
This he wrought with danger. His shield he let fall, great was his strength, and clasped Hagen of Troneg in his arms. Thus the brave knight was overcome by Dietrich. Noble Gunther gan wail thereat. Dietrich now bound Hagen and led him to where he found the high-born queen; into her hand he gave the bravest warrior that ever bare a sword. Then merry enow she grew after her great dole. For very joy King Etzel's wife bowed low before the knight. "May thy heart and body be ever blest. Thou hast well requited me of all my woes. For this will I ever serve thee, unless be, that death doth hinder me therefrom."
This he did with great danger. He dropped his shield, showing his immense strength, and embraced Hagen of Troneg. Thus, the brave knight was defeated by Dietrich. Noble Gunther mourned at this. Dietrich then bound Hagen and took him to where he found the noble queen; he placed the bravest warrior who ever wielded a sword into her hands. She became very happy after her deep sorrow. Out of pure joy, King Etzel’s wife bowed low before the knight. "May your heart and body always be blessed. You have truly repaid me for all my troubles. For this, I will always serve you, unless death prevents me from doing so."
Then spake Lord Dietrich: "Pray let him live, most noble queen. And if this still may be, how well will I requite you of that which he hath done you! Let him not suffer, because ye see him stand here bound."
Then Lord Dietrich said, "Please let him live, most noble queen. And if that can still be, I will repay you well for what he has done to you! Don’t let him suffer just because you see him standing here bound."
She bade Hagen then be led away to duress, where he lay locked in and where none did see him. Gunther, the high-born king, began to call: "Whither went the knight of Berne? He hath done me wrong."
She then ordered Hagen to be taken away to confinement, where he was locked up and unseen. Gunther, the noble king, began to call out: "Where did the knight of Berne go? He has wronged me."
At this Lord Dietrich went to meet him. Gunther's might was worthy of praise; no more he bided, but ran outside the hall, and from the clashing of the swords of the twain a mighty din arose. However much and long Lord Dietrich's prowess had been praised, yet Gunther was so sorely angered and enraged, for because of the grievous dole, he was his deadly foe, that men still tell it as a wonder, that Sir Dietrich did not fall. Great were both their prowess and their strength. The palace and the towers resounded with the blows, when with the swords they hewed at the sturdy helmets. King Gunther was of lordly mood, but the knight of Berne overcame him, as happed to Hagen afore. The hero's blood was seen to ooze through the armor rings, drawn forth by a keen-edged sword, the which Sir Dietrich bare. Though weary, Sir Gunther had guarded him most valiantly. The lord was now bound by Dietrich's hands. Though kings should not endure such bonds, yet Dietrich thought, if he set free the king and his liegeman, that all they met must needs fall dead at their hands.
At this, Lord Dietrich went to confront him. Gunther's strength was commendable; he couldn't wait any longer and dashed outside the hall, where the clash of their swords created a loud uproar. Even though Lord Dietrich's skills had been highly praised, Gunther was extremely angry and filled with rage because of the serious injustice, making him Dietrich's sworn enemy. People still talk about how remarkable it was that Sir Dietrich didn't fall. Both were incredibly skilled and strong. The palace and its towers echoed with the sound of their blows as they struck at each other's sturdy helmets. King Gunther was in a commanding mood, but the knight from Berne overpowered him, just like what happened to Hagen before. Blood was seen seeping through the rings of armor, drawn out by the sharp sword that Sir Dietrich wielded. Though exhausted, Sir Gunther defended himself valiantly. The lord was now captured by Dietrich. Although kings shouldn't be subjected to such restraints, Dietrich thought that if he freed the king and his vassal, anyone they encountered would undoubtedly fall at their hands.
Dietrich of Berne now took him by the hand and led him bound to where he found Kriemhild. At sight of his sorrow much of her fear took flight. She spake: "Welcome, Gunther, from the Burgundian land."
Dietrich of Berne grabbed his hand and led him, still tied up, to where he found Kriemhild. When she saw his sorrow, a lot of her fear faded away. She said, "Welcome, Gunther, from the Burgundian land."
Quoth he: "I would bow before you, dear sister mine, if your greetings were but kinder. I know you, queen, to be so wroth of mood that ye do give me and Hagen meagre greetings."
Quoth he: "I would bow before you, dear sister of mine, if your greetings were a bit kinder. I know you, queen, to be so angry that you give me and Hagen pretty cold greetings."
Up spake the knight of Berne: "Most noble queen, never were such good knights made hostages, as I have given you in them, exalted lady. For my sake, I pray you, spare these homeless men."
Up spoke the knight of Berne: "Most noble queen, never have such good knights been taken as hostages, as I have given you in them, exalted lady. For my sake, please spare these homeless men."
She vowed she'd do it gladly. Then Sir Dietrich left the worshipful knights with weeping eyes. Later Etzel's wife avenged her grimly; she took the life of both the chosen heroes. To make their duress worse she let them lie apart, so that neither saw the other, till she bare her brother's head to Hagen. Kriemhild's vengeance on both was great enow.
She promised she would do it willingly. Then Sir Dietrich left the honored knights with tears in his eyes. Later, Etzel's wife took her revenge; she killed both of the chosen heroes. To make their suffering worse, she kept them apart, so that neither could see the other, until she presented her brother's head to Hagen. Kriemhild's revenge on both was significant enough.
Then the queen went to Hagen. In what right hostile wise she spake to the knight: "If ye will give me back what ye have taken from me, then ye may still go home alive to Burgundy."
Then the queen went to Hagen. In a clearly hostile manner, she spoke to the knight: "If you return what you've taken from me, then you can still go home alive to Burgundy."
Grim Hagen answered: "Thou dost waste thy words, most noble queen. Forsooth I have sworn an oath, that I would not show the hoard, the while and any of my lords still live; so I shall give it to none."
Grim Hagen replied, "You're wasting your breath, most noble queen. I have sworn an oath that I won’t reveal the treasure as long as any of my lords are still alive; so I won’t be giving it to anyone."
"I'll make an end of this," quoth the high-born wife. Then she bade her brother's life be taken. His head they struck off, and by the hair she bare it to the knight of Troneg. Loth enow it was to him. When sad of mind the warrior gazed upon his master's head, he spake to Kriemhild: "Thou hast brought it to an end after thy will, and it hath happed, as I had thought me. The noble king of Burgundy now lieth dead, and Giselher, the youth, and Sir Gernot, too. None knoweth of the treasure now save God and me, and it shall ever be hid from thee, thou fiend."
"I'll put an end to this," said the noble wife. Then she ordered her brother to be killed. They chopped off his head, and she took it by the hair to the knight of Troneg. It was a heavy blow for him. When the warrior sadly looked at his master's head, he spoke to Kriemhild: "You’ve gotten what you wanted, and it has turned out as I expected. The noble king of Burgundy is now dead, along with young Giselher and Sir Gernot. Only God and I know about the treasure now, and it will always be hidden from you, you monster."
Quoth she: "Ye have requited me full ill, so I will keep the sword of Siegfried, the which my sweetheart bare, when last I saw him, in whom dole of heart hath happed to me through you."
Quoth she: "You have treated me very poorly, so I will keep the sword of Siegfried, which my beloved carried when I last saw him, and because of you, my heart is filled with sorrow."
From the sheath she drew it, nor could he hinder her a whit. She planned to rob the knight of life. With her hands she raised it and struck off his head. This King Etzel saw, and sore enow it rued him. "Alack!" cried the lording, "how lieth now dead at a woman's hands the very best of knights, that ever came to battle or bare a shield! However much I was his foe, yet it doth grieve me sorely."
From the sheath, she pulled it out, and he couldn't stop her at all. She intended to take the knight's life. With her hands, she lifted it and beheaded him. King Etzel witnessed this and deeply regretted it. "Oh no!" cried the lord, "how is it that the greatest knight, who ever fought or bore a shield, now lies dead at a woman's hands! No matter how much I was his enemy, it pains me greatly."
Then spake old Hildebrand: "Forsooth it shall not boot her aught, that she durst slay him. Whatso hap to me, and however much it may bring me to a dangerous pass, yet will I avenge bold Troneg's death."
Then old Hildebrand said, "It won't help her at all that she dared to kill him. No matter what happens to me, and no matter how much trouble it puts me in, I will still avenge brave Troneg's death."
Hildebrand sprang in wrath towards Kriemhild. For fear of him she suffered pain; but what might it avail her, that she shrieked so frightfully? He dealt the queen a grievous sword-blow, the which did cut the high-born dame in twain. Now all lay low in death whom fate had doomed. Dietrich and Etzel then began to weep; sorely they mourned both kin and liegemen. Their mickle honors lay there low in death; the courtiers all had grief and drearihead. The king's high feast had ended now in woe, as joy doth ever end in sorrow at the last. I cannot tell you, that which happed thereafter, save that knights and ladies and noble squires were seen to weep for the death of loving kinsmen. The tale hath here an end. This is the Nibelungs' fall. (2) (3)
Hildebrand angrily charged at Kriemhild. Out of fear, she felt agony; but what good did her terrified screams do? He struck the queen with a severe blow of his sword, cutting the noble lady in half. Now, all were laid low in death whom fate had chosen. Dietrich and Etzel then began to weep; they mourned deeply for both family and loyal men. Their great honors lay dead; all the courtiers were filled with grief and sadness. The king’s grand feast had now ended in sorrow, just as joy always concludes with sadness in the end. I can't tell you what happened next, except that knights, ladies, and noble squires were seen mourning for the death of their loving relatives. The story ends here. This is the downfall of the Nibelungs. (2) (3)
ENDNOTES: (1) "Waskstone", see Adventure XXXV, note 2. (2) "Fall". The word "not", translated here "fall", means really 'disaster', but as this word is not in keeping with the style, "fall" has been chosen as preferable to 'need', used by some translators. The MS. C has here "liet" instead of "not" of A and B. (3) The "Nibelungenlied" is continued by the so-called "Klage", a poem written in short rhyming couplets. As the name indicates, it describes the lamentations of the survivors over the dead. The praises of each warrior are sung and a messenger dispatched to acquaint Gotelind, Uta, and Brunhild with the sad end of their kinsmen. It closes with Dietrich's departure from Etzel's court and his return home. Although in one sense a continuation of our poem, the "Klage" is an independent work of no great merit, being excessively tedious with its constant repetitions. A reprint and a full account of it will be found in Piper's edition of our poem, vol. I.
ENDNOTES: (1) "Waskstone", see Adventure XXXV, note 2. (2) "Fall". The word "not", translated here as "fall", really means 'disaster', but since that word doesn’t fit the style, "fall" was chosen over 'need', which some translators use. The MS. C has "liet" instead of "not" found in A and B. (3) The "Nibelungenlied" continues with what's known as the "Klage", a poem written in short rhyming couplets. As the name suggests, it describes the mourning of the survivors for the dead. The achievements of each warrior are praised, and a messenger is sent to inform Gotelind, Uta, and Brunhild about the tragic fate of their relatives. It ends with Dietrich leaving Etzel's court and heading back home. While it can be seen as a continuation of our poem, the "Klage" stands alone and lacks significant value, being overly tedious with its constant repetitions. A reprint and a detailed account of it are included in Piper's edition of our poem, vol. I.
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