The Lay of the Nibelung Men

INTRODUCTION (continued 6)

Arthur S. (Arthur Sanders) Way translation

That never a one of their thousands did the rush of the strong flood drown,

Albeit were some forwearied, and won to the land far down.

Then into the barge they carried their gold and their vesture-store,

Forasmuch as now from the journey they could turn them back no more.

And Hagen steered them over, that, with his strong hand on the helm,

Came many a gallant warrior into the stranger’s realm.

At the first proud knights a thousand, and his own thanes threescore

Did Hagen ferry over: then came aye more and more,

Till squires had crossed nine thousand: all these he brought to land.

Small rest that day had the valiant Lord of Troneg’s hand!

Five hundred or more uncumbered it bare at a single freight

Over the waters, heroes with their victual and war-array.

Full many a stalwart warrior must strain at the oar that day.

When all these over the river Hagen had safely brought,

Thereafter the fierce-heart hero on that weird prophecy thought,

The boding the wild mermaiden so lately spake unto him.

And for this King Gunther’s chaplain well-nigh lost life and limb.

In the boat stood the priest with his vessels of holy sacrament;

His hand on the sacred relics and the hallowed things he leant.

But their sanctity nothing availed him when Hagen’s cruel eye

Fell on the priest, and doomed him to sore calamity.

With sudden violence he seized him, he hurled him over the side

Of the barge, while “Hold! hold, Hagen!” many a warrior cried,

And brake into wrath indignant the young Prince Giselher.

Yet, till he had well-nigh drowned him, would Hagen not forbear.

Thereat did the princely Gernot, the lord Burgundian, cry:

“What profit to thee is it, Hagen, that Gunther’s chaplain should die?

Had another done such outrage, it had cost him his life, I trow!

What wrong had the poor priest done thee, that thou shouldst be his foe?”

Hard strained the priest in swimming: he had gotten aboard again,

If but any man had helped him; but his striving was all in vain,

By reason that Hagen the stalwart—savage was he of mood—

Back thrust him under the water: was none that deemed it good.

So when that hapless chaplain no human aid could see,

Back turned he, and swam shoreward: in bitter strait was he.

With failing strength was he sinking; but upborne by God’s own hand

Were his limbs, that at last in safety he won back unto the land.

There stood the priest all-hapless, and his streaming vesture wrung;

And by that sign known unto Hagen was the truth of the tale that the tongue

Of the wild mermaiden had uttered, of the doom no man might shun.

And he thought, “These knights of a surety be dead men every one!”

So soon as the barge was unladed, and men had borne ashore

The possessions of Gunther’s liegemen, and all the treasure-store,

Then Hagen shattered the planking, and thrust it forth on the flood

To founder: exceedingly marvelled the valiant knights and good.

“Why hast thou done this, brother?” did Dankwart wondering say.

“How shall we pass hereover on the homeward-faring way,

What time from the land of the Hunfolk back to the Rhine we ride?”

Thereafter did Hagen tell him that this should never betide;

But now said the Hero of Troneg: “Herein was this my thought,

That if haply any faint-heart thus far on the way have been brought,

Who might think in his fear to forsake us, and return by the way that he came,

He should know that in these wild waters there waited a death of shame.”

There was one in their host who had journeyed forth of Burgundia-land,

And his name of renown was Volker, a hero mighty of hand.

The thoughts of his fearless spirit with a biting tongue would he tell.

Whatsoever was done of Hagen, it liked that minstrel well.

He lifted his voice, and to Hagen across the water he cried:

“Thou murderer and faithless, what had I done unto thee

That thine heart should devise the drowning of a guiltless priest, even me?”

By my troth, ’tis for this I am sorry, that now thou art out of the reach

Of the hands that be fain to slay thee! No gibe, but the truth it is.”

Made answer the priest all-hapless: “I praise God ever for this!

Now fare ye on into Hunland, and back over Rhine will I.

May God vouchsafe to thee never to come over Rhine again!

This is mine heart’s petition, for my life well-nigh hast thou ta’en.”

“Lo, I will fully requite thee for all that Hagen hath done

Unto thee in his evil anger, whensoever back to the Rhine

Alive thou shalt see me returning: no fear thereof be thine.

And unto my wife, my belovèd, take my greetings thou.

And by thee do I greet my kinsfolk, as is meet and right for a king.

Bear thou unto them glad tidings of our prosperous wayfaring.”

Now harnessed the horses waited, and the sumpters each with its load

And as yet no scathe had befallen any as onward they rode,

Nor cause for fear or for grieving, save the priest, by a deed unmeet

Constrained to fare back Rhineward alone upon his feet.

XXVI. How Foes fell on them as they journeyed by Night

So when they were now all mustered upon the Danube strand,

Then spake to his men King Gunther: “Who through the unknown land

Shall now on the right path guide us, that our feet err not from the same?”

Out spake the valiant Volker: “This office for mine I claim.”

“Nay, halt ye a space,” said Hagen: “halt, both squire and knight!

His friends must a man needs follow, it seemeth me meet and right.

But a tale of evil tidings now at my mouth must ye learn—

Home to the land Burgundian not one of us all shall return.

Unto me this morning early was it told of mermaids two

That for us was no more returning: now counsel I what ye shall do:

Gird on your armour, ye heroes: ward you with heedful care.

Stark foemen await us: ride ye as men that battleward fare.

I had hoped to prove those mermaids false in their prophecy,

When they said unto me, that no man of all our array should see

Again the home in the Rhineland, except the chaplain alone:

Therefore would I so gladly have drowned him a little agone.”

From rank unto rank of their thousands the evil tidings flew.

Pale with a ghastly foreboding many a good knight grew,

As the hideous terror gripped them of the bitter death so near

At the end of this festival-faring, and their hearts were cold with fear.

That place was nigh unto Möring where they passed across the flood,

Where the ferryman of Elsè poured out his life in blood.

Again to the rest spake Hagen: “I have made for myself by the way

Foes, and our march shall shortly be beset by their array.

To-day have I slain their boatman while yet was the morning grey,

And by this have they heard the tidings. Haste ye, prepare for the fray,

That, soon as Gelfrat and Elsè fall on our company,

They may fall on their own destruction, so stern shall their welcome be.

They will nowise fail to attack us, for I know how bold is the foe;

Wherefore let ye your horses all softly pacing go,

That none of them all may imagine that we flee before them in dread.”

“Yea, I will follow thy counsel,” the young Prince Giselher said.

“Now by whom to our host on-marching through the land shall the ways be shown?”

They answered: “Our guide shall be Volker, for unto him well-known

Be highways alike and byways, the lordly minstrel-knight.”

And lo, ere any could ask him, he was there, all-armed as for fight,

That valiant viol-minstrel: his helm on his head was laced;

With blazonry splendour-tinted was his armour overtraced:

On his spear was a crimson pennon, a fluttering tongue of flame.

—Ah, soon with his royal masters into terrible peril he came!

And by this of his certain knowledge unto Gelfrat had one brought word

Concerning the ferryman’s slaying; and another withal had heard

The tale, even Elsè the stalwart: they raged with wrathful pain,

And they summoned their vassals, and ready with speed was their warrior-train.

But a little while thereafter, as singeth still the Lay,

To their banner came riding champions, whose hands in many a fray

Had wrought wild havoc of carnage, a mighty chivalry;

Unto Gelfrat thronged seven hundred, yea, more it may haply be.

On the track of those grim foemen they set forth spurring in haste;

But their lords, their battle-leaders, afront of them all on-raced

Pursuing the fearless strangers: athirst for revenge they sped;

Yet on to their own destruction full many a friend they led.

Now Hagen the Lord of Troneg had ordered their marching so—

How could a hero better ward friends against a foe?—

That himself with the men of his war-band rode ever in the rear,

And with him Dankwart his brother: wise war-craft was verily here.

Ran out the sands of the day-tide; all light faded away.

On the hero’s heart the peril of his comrades heavily lay.

With shield on arm still rode they on through Bavaria-land:

Well was it for them, for the onset of foes must they shortly withstand.

On either side of the highway and behind them thundering close

Heard they the sound of hoof-beats of reckless-riding foes.

Then cried the valiant Dankwart: “The foe be at point to set on!

Bind on your brows your helmets: I trow it were wisely done!”

Then, as needs must be, the riders drew rein, and rearward wheeled.

Gleamed dancing lights through the darkness, the glint of many a shield.

No longer might Hagen refrain him; he shouted his challenge-cry—

“Who followeth us on the highway?” From Gelfrat rang the reply,

And the lord of Bavarian marches flung fierce answer back:

“We are in search of our foemen, we follow fast on their track.

I know not who this morning my ferryman hath slain.

He was a valiant warrior, and mine heart is hot with pain!”

Made answer Hagen of Troneg: “And was that ferryman thine?

He refused to ferry us over: the guilt of his blood is mine;

I smote and I slew the strong one. Of a truth good cause had I,

For of this thy stalwart liegeman was mine own death brought full nigh.

I tendered to him fair guerdon, raiment and golden band,

And prayed him to ferry us over, hero, into thy land;

And thereat so flamed he with fury that he dealt me an evil blow

With his oar-blade strong and massy; and my wrath waxed grim enow.

Mine hand went unto my sword-hilt; from his wrath I warded mine head

With a wound that was past all healing, and lo, thine hero was dead.

For the deed am I ready to answer so soon as seemeth thee good.”

They addressed them straightway to battle, for exceeding fierce was their mood.

“Full well did I know,” cried Gelfrat, “that whene’er with his vassal-throng

Gunther passed over the river, to us would be wrought foul wrong

By the insolence of this Hagen! For this shall his heart’s blood pay!

Yea, for my ferryman’s murder his life shall atone straightway!”

Then couched they over the bucklers for the onset-shock their spears,

Gelfrat and Hagen the mighty: their rage was exceeding fierce.

Dankwart the while and Elsè in fight clashed man against man.

Right well did they prove their prowess, and stern was the strife that began.

When was more gallant encounter of champions so renowned?

In the mighty shock of their clashing was Hagen borne to the ground,

Over his charger’s crupper by Gelfrat’s hand back-forced,

Since the breast-band had snapped asunder: then first was Hagen unhorsed.

With crashing of shivering lances then met their men withal.

Swift to his feet leapt Hagen, more terrible from that fall

Wherein by his enemy’s lance-thrust he was hurled from the selle to the sward.

As flaming fire against Gelfrat was the wrath of Troneg’s lord.

I know not in battle-travail who held each warrior’s steed,

For both had voided the saddle, and face to face on the mead

Stood they, Hagen and Gelfrat: then each at the other sprang.

Knights aided their lords: all round them the din of conflict rang.

How furiously soever Hagen on Gelfrat leapt,

Yet the sword of the noble Margrave from the hero’s buckler swept

A huge shard earthward-clanging; the sparks were as lightning-flame.

Then the champion of King Gunther even to death’s brink came.

He lifted his voice, and to Dankwart he cried for aid, and he said:

“Help me, O brother belovèd, for now am I hardly bestead

Of a mighty-handed hero; he putteth in peril my life!”

Answered him Dankwart the fearless, “Lo, I will part your strife!”

With a leap of his horse he was on them: so fierce and fell a blow

With the keen sword dealt he to Gelfrat, that in death he laid him low.

Then Elsè would fain take vengeance for the mighty champion slain;

But, so fast were they falling, backward borne were his vassal-train.

Slain was his hero-brother, himself had a grievous wound:

Full eighty of his war-thanes already were stretched on the ground

A prey unto death the relentless: of need must the princely knight

Flee from the men of Gunther in headlong-hasty flight.

As the men of the land Bavarian fled from the face of their foes,

Ringing and clanging behind them ever echoed the dread death-blows,

As the vassals of Troneg’s hero held them close in chase.

Whoso would ’scape, small respite had he in that terrible race!

But amidst of pursuit and slaughter, to the rest cried Dankwart the thane:

“Halt! on the path of our journey backward turn we the rein.

Let us leave them riding in panic, while fast their gashes bleed.

Back to our friends let us hasten: of a truth ’tis the better rede.”

When back to the place of their conflict they came, where many had died,

Spake Hagen of Troneg: “Heroes, now let us be certified

Who from our ranks be missing, whom of our friends we have lost

Here, where the wrath of Gelfrat so many lives hath cost.”

So they numbered, and four were lacking; but for these they made short moan.

Well were they avenged of a surety! For the deaths of these to atone

There lay of Bavaria’s champions more than a hundred dead.

The shields of the men of Troneg with blood were bedimmed and red.

Fitfully out of the cloud-rack brake the clear moon’s light.

Then to the rest spake Hagen: “Let no man tell this night

To my well-belovèd liege-lords what hap hath befallen us here.

Till the morrow, as touching our welfare, no care let them know nor fear.”

When the rest of the host was o’ertaken by these which had come from the fray,

Behold, all men were complaining for weariness of the way.

“How long must we ride unresting?” many a warrior cried.

Spake Dankwart the brave: “No hostel is here wherein to abide.

Needs must ye still ride onward till breaketh the light of day.”

Then Volker the swift war-helper, which ordered their array,

Sent one to ask of the Marshal: “Where shall we halt to-morn,

Where the steeds and our well-loved masters may rest with toil outworn?”

But answered Dankwart the fearless: “I may not certainly say.

But we cannot and may not rest us till dawn in the sky is grey:

Then, wheresoever we find us, on the grass must we lay us to rest.”

Heavily weighed the tidings on many a warrior’s breast.

Unbewrayed by the blood red-reeking through those dark hours they rode,

Till the sun shot forth, for a greeting to Morning’s feet, as they trode

The crests of the hills, his flame-shafts. Then straightway the King espied

The tokens of that grim conflict, and in indignation he cried:

“What meaneth this, friend Hagen? And thought ye scorn of our aid,

That I might not come to your helping when the rings of your mail were made

Red with the blood of battle? Who brought you unto this plight?”

He answered: “The deed was Elsè’s: he fell on us in the night.

To avenge his ferryman’s slaying his riders pursued us fast.

Dead by the hand of my brother Gelfrat to earth was cast.

Then Elsè fleeing outran us—of sore need surely he fled!

Of us but four, but a hundred of them, on the field lie dead.”

Where stayed they for rest and for slumber, no witness hath testified.

Swift ran the tale of their coming through all the country-side,

How the sons of Uta the noble unto Etzel’s feast would fare.

At the last they won unto Passau, and good was their welcome there.

The noble princes’ uncle, the bishop Pilgerin,

Was exceeding gladdened in spirit to behold his royal kin,

When into his land with comrades so many and knightly they rode.

How fain he was to behold them his deeds right speedily showed.

Friends thronged to meet them and greet them afar from the city-wall;

And, seeing that lodging in Passau could not be found for them all,

To the farther side of the river to a mead were the more part led

Wherein by the squires were pavilions and many a fair tent spread.

There were they constrained to tarry for the space of one whole day

And the night that followed thereafter: right well entreated were they.

Thence riding forth and onward, unto Rüdiger’s land they passed,

And to him the joyful tidings of their coming sped full fast.

Now when by the night’s rest strengthened those way-worn warriors were,

And by this were drawing nearer to the land of Rüdiger,

There, hard by the marches sleeping, on a certain man did they light,

From whose side was stolen by Hagen a goodly glaive of fight.

Now the name of the sleeper was Eckwart, a good and noble knight;

And exceeding sorrowful-hearted was he for his swordless plight,

For the weapon lost through the passing of heroes the while he slept.

He was warder of Rüdiger’s marches, but for once ill guard had he kept.

“Ah, woe is me,” cried Eckwart, “that I wake to know this shame!

Alas for me, that ever the Burgundians hitherward came!

Siegfried’s death was the well-spring of all my calamity!

Alas for my betrayal of Rüdiger’s trust in me!”

Full well was heard by Hagen the sorrow of that good knight.

He restored him his sword, and he added six armlets of red gold bright:

“Take these for thy guerdon, hero, and be thou a friend to us now.

Though here unguarded thou liest, a valiant thane art thou.”

“God guerdon thee for thine armlets!” Eckwart the knight replied.

“Yet must I surely sorrow that ye to the Huns will ride.

Thou wast the slayer of Siegfried: here hate is undying still.

Look well to thyself!—I counsel in all faith and good-will.”

“Why then, may God protect us,” spake Hagen answering;

“But now these thanes be troubled concerning none other thing

Save for their harbourage only—my lords and their vassals withal—

Even where we shall rest and refresh us at this day’s evenfall:

For by this forspent be our horses with the weary way they have gone;

And consumed is all our victual”—Hagen the thane spake on—

“Neither see we where we may buy it. Some noble host would we meet

Whose open-handed bounty might give to us bread to eat.”

And to him made answer Eckwart: “Such a host unto you will I show,

That entertainment so goodly on you should none bestow

As here shall be your portion, in all lands far or near,

If ye, O valiant warriors, will seek unto Rüdiger.

Nigh to the highway he dwelleth: the noblest host is he

That ever hath dwelt in mansion: his heart with charity

Blooms as the grass with flowers at the touch of May’s bright feet.

Blithe is he and thankful ever such heroes with service to greet.”

Then spake unto him King Gunther: “Mine herald wilt thou be

To my dear friend Rüdiger? Ask him if, for a grace unto me,

To me and to these my kinsmen and vassals he will be host.

So will I requite that service unto mine uttermost.”

“Gladly will I be thine herald,” answering Eckwart said.

Straightway forth on the errand with eager haste he sped

Unto Rüdiger, bearing the message told even now in his ear.

There had come no such glad tidings to his lord for many a year.

Men saw from the towers of Bechlaren a knight spur thitherward fast.

Well Rüdiger knew that rider, and he said: “In furious haste

Cometh Eckwart, vassal of Kriemhild, galloping hitherward.”

He weened that of foes some mischief had been done to that valiant lord.

To the castle-gateway he hied him, and there did the messenger stand

Who unclasped his sword from his girdle and laid at his feet the brand.

Spake Rüdiger unto the warrior: “What tidings hast thou brought

That so hath constrained thee to hasten? hath any spoiled us of aught?”

“No man hath done us a mischief,” straightway Eckwart replied,

“But to-day of three kings bidden unto thee have I hitherward hied,

Of the King of Burgundia, Gunther, of Gernot and Giselher:

And of these knights each commendeth unto thee his service fair.

The like do Hagen and Volker; and each man sayeth it

In loyal faith and hearty. Moreover I do thee to wit

Of the message that the marshal of Gunther hath charged me withal,

That the good knights pray thee to grant them lodging at evenfall.”

With smiling lips of kindness unto him did Rüdiger say:

“Welcome to me be the tidings that kings so noble as they

Now stand in need of my service: nothing to these I deny.

So they will but come to my dwelling, exceeding glad am I.”

“From Dankwart the marshal moreover a message to thee I bring,

How many unto thy castle this day be journeying.

Threescore valiant champions and a thousand knights draw near,

And with these be squires nine thousand.” Blithe was the host of cheer.

“Welcome be these guests! Welcome the tidings,” did Rüdiger cry,

“That such noble and valiant heroes to my castle-halls draw nigh

Unto whom I have ne’er shown kindness for kindness shown unto me!

What ho, my kinsmen and vassals, ride forth to meet them ye!”

Then hasted they to their horses, and rode forth, squire and knight.

Whatsoever their lord commanded, that seemed them meet and right;

For so with swifter obedience they rendered him service due.

But still in her bower sat Gotlind, and nothing thereof she knew.

XXVII. How they came to Bechlaren

Thence hasted him the Margrave to where in the Ladies’ Bower

Were sitting his wife and his daughter: unto these in the selfsame hour

Told he the joyful tidings that but now had gladdened his ear,

That the brethren of her Lady and Queen to their halls drew near.

“Now therefore, O my belovèd,” spake Rüdiger earnestly,

“Graciously shalt thou receive them, these noble princes three,

When they and their train come hither as they fare unto Etzel’s court.

And Hagen, Gunther’s liegeman, shalt thou greet in friendly sort.

With these cometh also another, and Dankwart he hath to name,

And another withal, named Volker, of knightly honour and fame.

Upon these six thou and my daughter shall the greeting-kiss bestow,

And the grace of courteous kindness unto all the knights shall ye show.”

All this did the ladies promise, and nothing loth were they.

Then sought they out of the coffers their goodliest array,

That so they might greet the warriors in worthy bravery.

So with eager haste they bestirred them, those ladies fair to see.

Of false-feigned bloom of roses on their cheeks was little enow;

But shining golden chaplets they bare upon each white brow

Fashioned as rich-wrought garlands, that so their braided hair

By the wind might not be ruffled: all dainty and fresh they were.

In the labours of women busied those courtly dames leave we,

The while went swiftly riding far over the river-lea

Rüdiger’s friends and kinsmen, till they spied that princely band;

Then heartiest welcome they gave them into the Margrave’s land.

So when to the castle the Margrave beheld that company ride,

How blithely hailing their presence the eager Rüdiger cried,

“Welcome to me, ye princes, and all in your vassal-train!

Here in mine own fair country I behold you exceeding fain.”

Then bowed them to him the heroes in friendship and faith unfeigned.

Well proved he with what gladness by their host were they entertained.

Unto Hagen special greeting, as a friend known long agone,

He gave, and withal unto Volker, Burgundia’s hero-son.

Dankwart withal he greeted; then spake that valiant thane:

“If thou care for us here in thy castle, who then will see to our train,

Unto all the array which hath followed from Worms beyond the Rhine?”

Straightway answered the Margrave: “Put by this fear of thine;

For all thy vassal-companions, and what possessions soe’er

Ye have brought into this my country—steeds, silver, and raiment fair—

I will cause them to have such warding that nought therefrom shall be lost.

By a single spur no poorer shall be any man of your host.

Pitch the pavilions therefore, ye squires, on yonder lea.

Whatsoe’er from your store shall be missing shall be all made good by me.

Cast off the bit and bridle, and let the steeds range wide.”

Never had men such welcome from any host beside!

Glad were the guests when they heard it. So then when his bidding was done,

And the lords rode thence to the castle, the squires all one after one

Stretched them at ease on the greensward. Sweet rest at last had they:

Nought like it before nor after found they in all the way.

To the front of the castle-gateway did the noble Margravine haste

With her beauteous daughter; and many a lady lovely-faced

Upon this side and that was standing, and many a winsome maid

In carcanet and bracelet and queenly apparel arrayed.

Gleamed many a precious gemstone casting afar its sheen

Forth of their costly vesture—ah, fair were they to be seen!

Forward the guests came riding; from selle sprang they to the earth,—

What knightly grace and courteous showed they of Burgundian birth!

There were six-and-thirty maidens, and many a dame beside.

Fair to all heart’s desiring were the women lovely-eyed

That with many a valiant warrior to meet the strangers came:

Yea, fairest greeting was tendered of noble damsel and dame.

Then the Margravine welcomed the princes with the kiss of courtesy,

The like did also her daughter. Now Hagen stood thereby,

And her father bade her kiss him: but the maiden looked upon him,

And fain would she have refrained her, for his favour was passing grim.

Yet as their host her father commanded needs must she do:

But came and went her colour, she was pale and red of hue.

Thereafter Dankwart kissed she, and the lord of the viol-string,

For his might and his valour won him the greeting due to a king.

Then, to usher him into the castle, the maiden stretched her hand

Unto Giselher the courteous, the Prince of Burgundia-land.

And the hand of the valiant Gunther the Margravine hath ta’en.

So blithely into the castle with the heroes passed these twain.

The host gave hand unto Gernot: to the great hall so they came.

There sat they down on the high-seats, brave knight and comely dame.

Then poured they the wine of welcome, and bare to the guests all round.

Never more gracious greeting have heroes-errant found!

With eyes of admiration looked many a warrior there

On the damsel, Rüdiger’s daughter, for the maiden was passing fair.

In his heart did many a good knight her loveliness embrace:

Well might they, her queenly spirit made a splendour of her face.

Ah, they might dream as they listed!—’twas a dream no morn should fulfil!

Hither and thither the glances of the heroes wandered still

To the faces and forms of maidens and of dames that thronged the hall.

But the heart of the noble minstrel warmed to their host above all.

Then was the company sundered: the knights and the dames straightway

Passed into several feast-halls, as the wont of the land was aye.

In the great hall of the castle for the knights were the tables arrayed,

And there to the friends from a far land was eager service paid.

For a grace to her guests Burgundian the noble Margravine

Sat in their midst at the table; but there was her child not seen,

For apart she abode with the maidens, as the land’s wont was from of old;

And the brave knights sighed for the beauty they might no longer behold.

So when with the meats and the wine-cup the guests were satisfied,

Back to the feast-hall led they the ladies lovely-eyed.

Then a murmur of admiration and of worship from all men broke,

And chiefly the valiant Volker the praise of beauty spoke;

For that same viol-minstrel spake freely and openly:

“O noble Lord of the Marches, God hath bestowed upon thee

All gifts of his gracious bounty: he hath given to thee for wife

A lady exceeding lovely, he hath crowned with bliss thy life.

Now if I were the heir to a kingdom,” that viol-minstrel said,

“And if I bare crown and sceptre, then would I choose to wed

None other than thy fair daughter—in all sincerity

I speak:—she is lovely to look on, noble and good is she.”

But the Margrave spake in answer: “How might it befall, this thing,

That my daughter should be the chosen and the heart’s delight of a king?

Here I and my wife be homeless, nor demesne nor castle we own:

No lands can we give for her portion—what availeth beauty alone?”

Answered and spake to him Gernot, the royal-natured knight:

“Might I choose for my bride a maiden in whom my soul should delight,

Such wife as she should gladden ever mine heart and mine eyes.”

Spake Hagen withal and answered in knightly-courteous wise:

“For my young lord Giselher’s spousals a fitting time were this:

And of such right noble lineage the child of the Margrave is,

That with joy would we render her homage, I and his liegemen all,

When crowned mid the folk Burgundian she paceth in purple and pall.”

Good in the eyes of the Margrave was the word of the princes found,

And sweet in the ears of Gotlind did the counsel of Hagen sound.

So of one accord were the heroes that the noble Giselher

Should take to wife that maiden—meet bride for a king she were!

Who may withstand the issue that is doomed by fate to befall?

They summoned the Margrave’s daughter to appear before them in hall:

Then sware the father to give him the lovely damsel to wife,

And the Prince for his part hath pledged him to cherish her all his life.

To the maiden the Kings for her portion allotted castles and land;

And with oaths of confirmation by the noble Gunther’s hand

Was it sealed unto her, and by Gernot, that all should so be done.

Then spake her father: “Albeit castles have I none,

And I can but loyally prove me your friend for evermore,

Yet shall my daughter’s dower be silver and gold good store

So much as a hundred sumpters fully laden may bear,

That his kin may with honour content them with the bride of Giselher.”

Into the midst of a circle led they the plighted twain

After the ancient custom. Full many a strong young thane

Stood there and gazed upon them with laughter-litten eyes,

Thinking such thoughts as ever in young hearts wont to rise.

So then when her kin put question unto the winsome maid—

“Wilt thou take this knight to thine husband?” awhile was she loth and afraid:

Yet her heart within her was pleading for him, that goodly one;

But for shame she hung on her answer, as many a maiden hath done.

Then Rüdiger her father spake saying, “Answer yea,

And gladly for husband take him.” How swiftly did he straightway

With loving white hands clasping to his heart his belovèd press;

Even Giselher the young prince!—how brief was their happiness!

Then spake once more the Margrave: “O kings of lineage high,

What time to the realm Burgundian returning ye pass hereby,

Then will I give you my daughter, even as is meet and right,

To bear her with you to the home-land.” Unto this their troth did they plight.

The tumult of feasting and joyance at last must have an end;

And then did the new-wed maiden to her bridal-chamber wend,

And the guests through the castle rested and slept till the day shone clear.

Then brake they the bread of the morning, and the host made abundant cheer.

And now when the feasting was ended, they addressed them thence to go

Journeying on to the Hunland—“I pray you, do not so,”

Said the Margrave noble-hearted; “awhile yet tarry here.

Long is it since in my castle I have harboured guests so dear.”

Answered and spake to him Dankwart: “Now nay, this may not be.

Whence should provision of victual and of wine be gotten of thee

Enough to suffice for the feasting of so great a company?”

But the host made answer: “I pray you, put all such vain words by!

My lords and dearly beloved, ye may not say me nay.

With meat and drink can I feast you till endeth the fourteenth day,

And all that with you came hither, both lords and vassal-train.

Little enow of my substance King Etzel from me hath ta’en.”

How sorely soe’er they excused them, yet there perforce they abode

Till dawned the fourth day’s morning. Such lavish gifts were bestowed

Of their host’s free-handed bounty, that the fame thereof spread wide,

How he gave to his guests rich raiment and gallant steeds to ride.

No longer now might they tarry: they must needs press on to the goal.

But of all his mighty possessions would Rüdiger’s princely soul

Spare nought in his lavish bounty: whatsoever any might crave,

Unto none he denied or begrudged it; to the heroes gladly he gave.

Before the gate of the castle the squires brought harness-dight

Long lines of goodly horses: then came forth many a knight

Unto where the steeds stood waiting. Their shields on their arms they bare,

For thence would they now be riding unto Etzel’s land to fare.

But, or ever the high-born strangers forth of the feast-hall strode,

Freely the host on the heroes the gifts of his love had bestowed.

He could live wealth-crowned with honour, how largely he gave soe’er.

His daughter, a gift all-priceless, had he given to Giselher;

But to Gunther the peerless hero Rüdiger gave a thing

That well might add new honour to the majesty of a king.

Right seldom the King took presents, but he bowed him courteously

As he took from the hand all-courteous the hauberk goodly to see.

And a sword, a light of battle, unto Gernot the princely he gave;

Ere long in the wild war-tempest mightily flashed that glaive.

Smiled on him the wife of the Margrave as he took that gift from his hand.

—Ah me, but her noble husband was to die by that same brand!

Then, as well beseemed such a lady, unto Hagen Gotlind brought

Gifts of her lovingkindness: since the King had refused them not,

She prayed he would fare not forward unto Etzel’s festal-tide

Unholpen of her bounty; but the hero refused, and replied:

“Of all things that ever,” said Hagen, “I have seen unto this day,

Nought I desire so sorely to bear with me hence away

As the shield that hangeth yonder against your palace-wall:

That same would I bear right gladly unto Etzel’s festival.”

When heard of the wife of the Margrave was the word that Hagen spake,

It wakened her sleeping sorrow: no marvel her tears outbrake!

With anguish she called to remembrance the death of Nudung, her son,

Whom Wittich had slain; and rekindled was the olden grief and moan.

To the thane made answer the mother: “O yea, the shield will I give.

Ah, would to God in Heaven that yet on the earth he might live

Who bare it of old! In battle he slept the iron sleep.

I must needs evermore lament him: sore cause have I to weep.”

Then the noble wife of the Margrave rose up from her carven chair,

And she took down the shield of the dear dead with her own white hands, and bare

And gave it, her gift unto Hagen: he received in his hands the same;

Ay, and he won for the buckler new glory of deathless fame!

A cover of bright-hued loomwork enfolded its blazonries.

Never hath shone the daylight on better shield than this.

So richly with precious gemstones bordered was its device,

That, if any were fain to buy it, a thousand marks were its price.

His squires bare forth at his bidding that shield for the mighty thane.

Then came his brother Dankwart before the chatelaine,

And on him rich-broidered vesture did the Margrave’s daughter bestow

Which thereafter he wore glad-hearted in the halls of the Hunland foe.

But of all gifts Rüdiger gave them, how great soever of worth,

Unto none had the haughty princes stretched a finger forth,

Were it not for his courteous kindness, and the love it begat that day—

Yet ere long were they foes so bitter that they needs must smite him and slay!

Then Volker the battle-eager, with his viol in his hand,

Stepped forth with courtly bearing before Gotlind to stand;

And the sweet notes rang through the feast-hall as he chanted the lovely lay.

So took he leave of the Lady ere he passed from Bechlaren away.

Then the wife of the Margrave commanded that her maids unto her should bring

A casket—of gifts love-sweetened now shall the minstrel sing:—

Twelve armlets she took from the coffer, and she slid them over his hand:

“These bear thou, Volker, I pray thee, into King Etzel’s land;

And there for my sake shalt thou wear them in presence of King and thane,

That folk may tell me the story, when hither thou comest again,

Of the courtly service rendered unto me of Etzel’s guest.”

And the bold knight did thereafter according to all her request.

Then spake to his guests the Margrave: “For your safe journeying hence

Myself will be your escort: so strong shall be your defence,

That none shall set upon you to do you hurt by the way.”

Then was his sumpter-palfrey saddled without delay.

Arrayed he stood for the journey, and, furnished with raiment and steed

Good knights with him five hundred; and all these thence did he lead

Bound for the Hunfolk’s high-tide with merry hearts and light—

There returned again to Bechlaren of them all no single knight!

Then did their host with kisses of love from his dear wife part;

With kisses was Giselher sundered from his bride; with yearning heart

They held in their arms fond-clasping their wives, the passing fair.

Ah, soon bewept full sorely by many a maiden they were!

All through that stately castle they flung the casements wide

To see the Lord of the Marches with all his men forth ride.

Their hearts with mournful boding whispered to them, I trow:

Wept many a winsome lady and maiden to see them go.

For beloved friends and for kinsmen all these were sorrowing sore

Whom the watchers should see returning to Bechlaren never more.

Yet rode that company blithely down to the river-strand,

And far through the Danube-valley away to the Hunfolk’s land.

Then to the thanes Burgundian the princely Margrave cried,

Even Rüdiger the noble: “We may now no longer hide

From the lords of the realm the tidings that to Hunland we draw near.

Sooth, never hath King Etzel heard aught to his heart so dear.”

Then rode swift heralds many to the land of the Easterling,

And so full soon did the tidings through all the country ring

That from Worms-over-Rhine the heroes were coming thitherward.

Welcomer news heard never the vassals of Hunland’s Lord.

From her stricken heart in a measure the burden of grief was rolled,

Since now from the land of her fathers came they which had done her a wrong—

Ay, they through whom King Etzel had sorrow enow ere long!

Fast, fast pressed onward the heralds as the tale to the King they bare

How that the Niblung chieftains nigh unto Hunland were.

Kriemhild the Queen from a casement watched with eager eye

For her kinsmen, as friends sore-yearning look forth as friends draw nigh.

At last she beheld those thousands from the ancient home that came;

And ware was the King of their coming, and he laughed with joy for the same:—

“See to it, O dear wife, Kriemhild, thou receive them worthily.

To be crowned with exceeding honour thy brethren come unto thee.”

“Glad am I for these good tidings,” spake Kriemhild her heart within.

“Ha, many a bright new buckler they bring, my faithless kin,

And hauberks gleaming and glancing!—now whoso will take of my gold,

And think on my wrongs, such champion my friend for aye will I hold.”

He who hath utterly emptied my life of all its bliss

Shall drink, if I may but contrive it, to the dregs the cup of pain

At this guest-greeting! Ready am I and exceeding fain.

My vengeance shall stand triumphant, betide thereof what may,

Over his hateful body who bereaved me utterly

Of love, of the joy of living—but the hour of requital is nigh!”

XXVIII. How the Burgundians came to Etzel’s strong City

Now when the Burgundian Heroes came to the Hunfolk’s land,

Told was the thing to the warrior of Bern, old Hildebrand,

And he unto Dietrich told it; and his lord with grief and dismay

Heard; yet he bade him welcome that valiant knightly array.

Then were the horses saddled at the bidding of Wolfhart the strong.

With the Hero of Bern went riding knights in a lordly throng

To greet the friends far-travelled. On the river-plain they met

Where many a goodly pavilion the squires by this had set.

So soon as Hagen of Troneg beheld them from far away,

In knightly-courteous fashion unto his lords did he say:

“Now, warriors battle-eager, leap each man down from the selle,

And go ye forward to meet them which be come to greet you well.

A warrior company cometh; full well be they known unto me;

Thanes battle-eager and stalwart from the Amals’ land they be;

And the Hero of Bern is their leader, and their courage is high in the fray.

Ye shall nowise scorn the service they proffer to you this day.”

Then sprang to the earth from the saddle, even as was meet and right,

Dietrich, and there with their captain were many a squire and knight.

Forward to that guest-greeting they strode to the hero-band,

And in kindliest wise they welcomed the men of Burgundia-land.

So now when the noble Dietrich beheld them drawing nigh,

Well knew he the deadly secret: a grief was their journey to him;

But he weened that Rüdiger knew it, and had told of the peril grim.

“Welcome, my lords! O Gunther and Giselher, welcome be ye!

Gernot and Hagen, welcome! Lord Volker, welcome to thee

And to Dankwart the battle-eager!—but hath no man told you the tale

How still for the Niblung Hero doth Kriemhild weep and wail?”

“Let her weep so long as she listeth!” scornfully Hagen replied.

“Many a year hath fleeted since her lord was smitten and died.

Ay, let her joy and her solace be the love of the Lord of the Hun!

Siegfried returneth never; he was buried long agone.”

“Enough of the slaying of Siegfried! His memory is not dead.

So long as Kriemhild liveth may the vengeance-snare be spread.”

—So spake the noble Dietrich, the Hero of Bern, his rede.—

“O hope of the Niblung Nation, of her vengeance take good heed!”

“Beware of my sister!—and wherefore?” proudly the King replied.

“Etzel hath sent to us heralds—what should I ask beside?—

Bidding us ride to meet him here in this land as a friend.

Yea, many a loving greeting did my sister Kriemhild send.”

“Hearken,” again spake Hagen, “and so will I counsel you.

Hear ye this story of Kriemhild, and let it be told all through

By Dietrich the Lord of the Amals, and his heroes valorous:

So shall the mind of Kriemhild be wholly revealed unto us.”

Then drew them apart the Princes, and spake together the three,

Even Gunther the King and Gernot and Dietrich secretly:

“O Knight of Bern most noble and valiant, tell us now—

Of the inmost mind of Kriemhild the Queen what knowest thou?”

And the Prince of Bern made answer: “What other can be my tale

Save this, that morning by morning I hear her weep and wail—

This Etzel’s wife, Queen Kriemhild—with bitter and passionate breath

Appealing to God in Heaven to avenge strong Siegfried’s death?”

“O’erlate is it now for repenting as touching this thou hast told,”

Spake Volker the viol-minstrel, the warrior ever bold.

“Let us on to the court of the Hun-king, and let it there be seen

What deeds shall be done of the Hunfolk to the warriors battle-keen.”

So on to the court went riding that bold Burgundian band,

Bearing themselves right proudly after the wont of their land.

Then many a valiant warrior of the Huns watched eagerly

For the coming of Hagen of Troneg, what manner of man should he be.

Known long since was the story to all folk, how that his hand

Had dealt unto Siegfried the death-stab, to the King of the Nether Land,

Of all stark knights the strongest, the lord of Kriemhild the Queen:

Therefore the expectation of men to behold him was keen.

Mighty of mould was the hero, as the soothfast songs declare,

Exceeding broad in the shoulders and deep of chest, and his hair

By this was a sable silvered; sinewy, long of limb,

As a king was he stately in going, and his face as death was grim.

Then all the thanes Burgundian into hostels did they bring;

But the train of the squires of Gunther were sundered far from the King.

It was done by the Queen’s devising, for the hate that to him she bare.

Slain ere long in their hostels all those henchmen were.

Dankwart the brother of Hagen was marshal of all that train,

And to him did the King commit them, charging him once and again

To do his utmost endeavour for supplying of all their need;

And he laboured with willing spirit, and served with diligent heed.

Forth came the fair Queen Kriemhild with a goodly company.

With falsely-feignèd kindness those Niblungs greeted she.

Then Giselher her brother did she kiss, and she clasped his hand:

When Hagen of Troneg saw it, he tightened his helmet-band.

“Good sooth, after such a welcome,” Hagen cried, “there is need

That the battle-eager warriors should take to themselves good heed!

The greeting of prince and of liegeman is here no whit the same.

I wot, on an evil journey to this high-tide we came!”

She answered, “To him be welcome who joyeth to see thy face!

For thy friendship’s sake is accorded here no greeting’s grace.

This tell to me, what dost thou bring me from Worms beyond the Rhine,

That unto me so welcome should be this presence of thine?”

“What new thing shall this be, quotha!” spake Hagen scornfully,

“That these good knights Burgundian should be bringers of gifts unto thee?

Had I known that thou wert so grasping—I am rich enow, I wot,—

A gift unto thee of my bounty to the Hunland had I brought.”

“Thy gifts!—thou answer the question I ask of thee this day:

The Hoard, the Niblung Treasure—where have ye thrust it away?

That at least was mine own possession, well dost thou understand!

That should ye have brought to its owner unto King Etzel’s land.”

“Of a truth, my lady Kriemhild, full many a day hath passed

Since the gold of the Niblung Treasure of me was beholden last.

Under the Rhine-river waters by command of my lords was it drowned:

There must it stay of a surety till the Trumpet of Doom shall sound.”

And the Queen made bitter answer: “I trowed that so it would be!

Of his spoil has the thief brought hither little enow unto me,

Though the gold was mine own possession, erewhile of me controlled!

For the gold and its lord have I suffered anguish manifold.”

“The Fiend a gift do I bring thee!” cried Hagen in savage scorn.

“’Tis enough for me that I carry the shield on mine arm that is borne,

And the harness about my body, and mine helm bright-glittering,

And the sword at my side—they suffice me: nothing to thee do I bring.”

I need not to stint my bounty, enough have I and to spare.

But the murderer, twice a robber, who hath stol’n from my life its light,

The spoiler of helpless women, him would I fain requite!”

Then spake that Daughter of Princes to Burgundy’s warriors all:

“It fits not that ye bear weapons here in the royal hall.

Commit them to me, ye heroes, and well will I ward them for you.”

“Of a truth,” made answer Hagen, “that will we never do!

I crave not the honour, O gracious child of a princely line,

That thou to thy place of safety bear any weapon of mine,

Nor shield, nor battle-harness—queen, well I wot, thou art here.

Wisely my father taught me to ward mine own war-gear.”

“Ah, woe is me for the sorrows heaped on me!” Kriemhild cried.

“For what cause now of my brother and of Hagen is this denied

That I have their shields in my keeping? Of a surety, warned are they!

If I knew what man hath betrayed me, his head for his treason should pay!”

Then Dietrich flamed into anger, and swiftly answered he:

“Lo, I am he that hath warned them, these Princes of Burgundy,

And the King of the Rhineland’s liegemen, and Hagen the unafraid!

Make trial, thou child of the Devil, if the debt shall by me be paid!”

Then quailed before him Kriemhild, and darkly she flushed with shame:

For before the mighty Dietrich great fear on her spirit came.

Straightway she went from their presence: no word to her lips arose,

But one swift glance of hatred she flashed upon her foes.

Stood face to face these heroes with hand in right hand clasped:

Dietrich of Bern in friendship the hand of Hagen grasped.

Then spake to the knight of Troneg that battle-mighty chief:

“Of a truth your journey to Hunland is pain unto me and grief,

Forasmuch as yon Daughter of Princes hath so revealed her hate.”

Answered him Hagen of Troneg: “We will put to the test our fate.”

So did the dauntless heroes each unto other say.

King Etzel beheld them communing, and he questioned of them straightway:

“Fain would I one should tell me,” so asked of his men the King,

“What knightly warrior yonder with such friendly welcoming

Is greeted by our lord Dietrich. A lofty spirit he bears:

What thane soe’er was his father, a goodly knight he appears.”

Spake of the train of Kriemhild to the King a certain knight:

“Troneg is the warrior’s birthplace, his father Aldrian hight.

How blithely soever he bear him, a grim stark foeman he is.

I trow, ere long shall I prove it, that utter truth is this.”

“Nay, how should I learn that the hero is in battle so grim?” he replied;

For as yet had the King no knowledge of the snares of death spread wide

Around the feet of her kinsmen by the Queen for revenge who yearned—

So wide, that back from the Hunland no man of them all returned.

“Well knew I Aldrian,” spake he: “my liegeman he was of old.

Praise at my court he won him and honour manifold:

Yea, and of me was he knighted, and I gave him gold and gear;

And my true and faithful Lady, Helka, held him dear.

Well known thereafter was Hagen unto me: in years long fled

As hostages high-born children twain to my land I led,

Even him and Walter the Spaniard. Here unto men grew they,

Till I sent home Hagen; but Walter with Hildegund fled away.”

So mused he on days passed over and deeds done long agone,

And his warrior-friend of Troneg whom there of old he had known,

Who in youth had rendered him service in many a strenuous day,

But now in his age was destined a host of his friends to slay.

XXIX. How Hagen refused to rise up in Presence of the Queen

Now did those thanes far-famous each from other turn,

Hagen the Lord of Troneg, and Dietrich the Hero of Bern.

Then over his shoulder glancing did Gunther’s liegeman gaze

Keenly around for a comrade, and he marked him in little space.

For anigh Prince Giselher standing Volker he straightway espied,

Volker the viol-minstrel; and he prayed him, “Stand by my side!”

For well had he proved his spirit, how grim he was in fight,

And in all that a knight beseemeth a fearless warrior wight.

The lords Burgundian left they standing amidst of the court;

But the twain in the sight of all men strode with lion-port

Alone across the bailey, and in front of a palace wide.

They cared not who should withstand them, they faced all dauntless-eyed.

They sat them down on a settle before the palace-wall

Over against the windows and the doors of the Queen’s own hall.

On their mighty limbs was gleaming their royal-rich array;

And many an one who beheld them much marvelled who were they.

Many an one of the Hunfolk, as on wild beasts of the wold,

Gazed open-mouthed upon them, on the heroes haughty-souled.

And Etzel’s Queen through a casement beheld that terrible twain,

And the heart of Kriemhild the comely was darkened afresh with pain.

She thought upon all her sorrows, and she wept for grief and shame.

Then on the thanes, the liegemen of Etzel, amazement came,

As they marvelled what should have troubled the royal heart of the Queen;

And she answered, “The deed was Hagen’s, O good knights battle-keen.”

Hotly they answered their Lady: “What deed hath of him been done?

Lo, of good cheer we beheld thee and blithe but a little agone.

Whosoever hath done thee a mischief, be he never so valorous,

So thou but bid us avenge thee, with his life shall he answer to us.”

“Unto him for aye were I bounden who avenged me on my foe.

What boon he may ask soever ready am I to bestow.

I bow at your feet in suppliance!” cried King Etzel’s wife.

“Avenge me upon this Hagen! Let him forfeit limb and life!”

Then armed them the valiant champions; sixty by tale they were:

For love of their Lady Kriemhild forth of the hall would they fare

And fall upon Hagen and smite him, the battle-dauntless lord,

And with him the viol-minstrel: all they were of one accord.

But the Queen looked on her champions, and marked their slender array,

And in wrathful indignation to the heroes did she say:

“From such manner of desperate emprise, I counsel you, refrain!

Ye be all too few to grapple with Hagen in battle-strain.

How valiant and mighty soever the Hero of Troneg be,

The man that sitteth beside him is mightier far than he,

Volker the viol-minstrel: a very fiend he is.

Ye may nowise meet yon heroes with so scanty a band as this.”

So when they had heard that warning, four hundred warriors more

Clad them in battle-harness. With longing exceeding sore

Was the heart of the Queen a-hungered for vengeance for her wrong.

Therefrom were the valiant champions into grim straits brought ere long.

And so soon as armed for the onset she saw her vassal-train,

To the warriors battle-eager the Queen spake yet again:

“Now tarry ye here for a season; stand ye still for a space.

With my crown on mine head yon foemen will I first meet face to face.

Hearken as I reproach him for the wrongs he hath done unto me,

This Hagen of Troneg, vassal of Gunther of Burgundy.

I know him so high-hearted, that his crime he will scorn to deny.

What shall befall him thereafter from avengers nought care I.”

Then the valiant viol-minstrel, the lord of the strings, was ware

Of the high-born Daughter of Princes, as her feet came down the stair

That led from the palace-portal. Soon as he saw that sight,

Unto his warrior-comrade spake Volker the dreadless knight:

“Behold now, O friend Hagen, and mark as she draweth nigh

Who as guests hath bidden us hither with purpose of treachery.

Never so many warriors saw I follow a queen

With sword in hand drawing nigh me, and with faces battle-keen.

Of this art thou ware, friend Hagen, that to thee are they foemen fell:

Wherefore I give thee counsel, take heed that thou guard well

Thy life and thy knightly honour. I trow such rede is good;

For in very deed meseemeth they come in angry mood.

There is many a man amongst them broad-chested and stalwart of frame.

Whoso would keep life scatheless, betimes let him see to the same!

I mark how under their vesture glittering hauberks they wear:

What deed thereby they purpose I know not, neither care.”

Made answer in scornful anger Hagen the aweless man:

“Well know I, for my destruction is all their plot and plan;

And for this are the gleaming weapons that yon men bear in hand.

But for all they may do, shall I yet ride back into Burgundy-land.

Now tell unto me, friend Volker, by me art thou minded to stand

If these be fain to beset me, yon men of Kriemhild’s band?

Lo, by thy love I adjure thee, tell me thy mind herein,

And my love and my loyal service for ever shalt thou win.”

“Yea, of a surety I help thee,” the minstrel made reply;

“And though I beheld against us a king of the earth draw nigh

With all his knights about him, so long as endureth my life,

Through fear will I ne’er draw backward one foot from thy side in the strife.”

“Now God in Heaven reward thee, Volker, thou peerless of worth!

Though all these rise up against us, what need I more on earth?

If thou but stand mine helper, as now thou hast said in mine ear,

These knights have need to be wary of coming a step more near.”

“Now,” said the viol-minstrel, “rise we up from our seat

In presence of this King’s Daughter, as before us pass her feet;

So render we due honour unto a high-born queen,

And by courtesy do we honour unto ourselves, I ween.”

“Nay,” Hagen replied, “if thou love me, in no wise do this thing.

Yon knights will be puffed up haply with vain imagining

That I did it of failing courage, and were minded to flinch from her face.

But I,—for no soul among them will I rise up from my place.

From such honour to her refrain we; it better beseemeth us so.

What, should I render her homage who hath set her to be my foe?

No, that will I do never so long as endureth my life!

What reck I of the malice of this King Etzel’s wife?”

Across his knees did Hagen in haughty defiance lay

A flashing glaive of battle, and with restless splendour-ray

A jasper shone on the pommel—spring grass were not so green.

Full well did Kriemhild know it, for Siegfried’s sword had it been.

She saw the brand, and remembered, and anguish it was to see.

Of gold were the hilts, and the scabbard all crimson broidery.

The olden grief was rewakened, and fast did the hot tears flow.

In sooth, with none other purpose had Hagen done it, I trow.

Then close to his side on the settle Volker the unafraid

Drew a viol-bow strange-fashioned, a mighty and long steel blade:

Yea, as a sword was it shapen, and keen it was and broad.

Thus sat these knights in the presence of a throng of their foes unawed.

Of such high worth they accounted themselves, that fearless twain,

For dread of any foeman never a whit would they deign

To rise from the place of their session. Now stood before them there

That high-born Daughter of Princes, and a bitter greeting she bare;

For she spake: “Now say, Lord Hagen, who sent a bidding to thee

That thou darest hither to journey to my land thus hardily,

Albeit full well thou knewest what deeds unto me thou hast done?

Hadst thou been prudent of spirit, into peril thou hadst not run.”

“Me?—no man hath bidden me hither,” with careless scorn he replied.

“Hither to this thy kingdom were three knights bidden to ride,

And these same knights be my liege-lords, and I am their liegeman true.

Whensoever they wend to a high-tide, my wont is to be there too.”

She said: “This also tell me—why diddest thou that deed

For the which the hatred I bear thee is but thy rightful meed?

Thou, thou didst murder Siegfried!—my lord and my love didst thou slay

For whom I must needs mourn ever unto my latest day.”

“Tush! this sufficeth,” he answered. “Why idly waste thy breath?

I still am the same—that Hagen who dealt unto Siegfried death,

To the mighty-handed hero. Dearly he paid at last

For the flouts that the Lady Kriemhild upon Brunhild the fair had cast.

Dream not, O Queen most mighty, that I will conceal or deny

That of all the scathe and the mischief done to thee guilty am I.

Let whoso dareth avenge it!—let woman or man essay!

I have heaped thee the measure of sorrow, if I be not a liar this day.”

“Ye hear him, knights! He confesseth all shamelessly,” she cried,

“This crime that was cause of mine anguish! What unto him may betide

In requital for this, I care not, O vassals of Etzel the King!”

But her thanes looked each upon other with glances wavering.

Had they closed that instant in conflict, those two companions, I trow,

Right soon had exacted homage to their prowess from the foe,

As oft in the days passed over they had proved in battle-storm.

The thing they had undertaken now feared those men to perform.

Then spake a knight to his fellows: “Why look ye so upon me?

The deed that erewhile I promised, fulfilled may it nowise be.

No mortal’s gifts shall beguile me to barter away my life.

To our own destruction hither were we lured by Etzel’s wife!”

Then spake and answered another: “As thou art, so am I.

If one would give to me towers with the ruddy gold heaped high,

Against yon viol-minstrel in battle I would not stand.

I have marked his eagle-glances, and I fear the might of his hand.

Yea, and I knew yon Hagen in his youth long years ago.

It needs not that any should tell me of the prowess that I know:

In battles two-and-twenty have I seen him play his part.

Unto many a wife made widow hath he given sorrow of heart.

Yea, he and Walter the Spaniard upon many a foray fared;

And here under Etzel’s banner full many a deed they dared

For the King’s renown: they have proved them so oft in foughten field,

That men must needs unto Hagen the palm of honour yield.

Yet a child in years was the warrior what time he won such praise,

And now are they men grey-headed which were boys in those far days;

But now hath he gained war-cunning, and grimmer than he is none,

And he beareth the great sword Balmung by a deed of darkness won.”

So ended their vaunting, for no man dared battle with such stern foes.

In the heart of the Daughter of Princes the anguish-tide high rose,

As backward recoiled her champions: ay, death seemed all too near

At the hands of the viol-minstrel—good cause had they for fear!

How oft do men’s hearts fail them, that they shrink from an emprise aghast

When faced by friend that standeth at friend’s side loyal and fast!

Ay, intermeddlers in quarrels, if wisdom they have to refrain

And to take heed unto their goings, may deliver themselves from bane.

Then spake the dreadless Volker: “Now for ourselves have we found

The truth whereof we had warning, that here foes swarm all round.

Let us pass on then to the Princes, where in the palace they are,

That none may beset our masters unawares with array of war.”

“Good; lead thou on, I follow,” did Hagen answering say.

And thence went those two comrades; and there in the hall saw they

Those knights, and the Hunfolk greeting thronged them all about.

Then the voice of Volker the dreadless like a trumpet-blast rang out,

As he cried to his lords the Princes: “How long are ye minded to stay

To be thronged and pressed thus tamely? Ye should to the King straightway,

And hear in his presence-chamber what is his mood unto you.”

Then the good knights and valiant set forward two by two.

For the champion of Bern, Lord Dietrich, in fellowship took by the hand

The mighty ruler Gunther, the King of Burgundia-land;

And with Gernot the valiant hero was Irnfried handed there;

And with Giselher to the palace went the noble Rüdiger.

But, howsoe’er companioned were the rest, to the hall as they hied,

Never did Volker and Hagen leave one another’s side,

Save only in one grim conflict, until on their death they came,

Which was cause of sorrow and weeping unto many a noble dame.

On passed to the hall of the presence with the Princes a gallant train,

A thousand of their vassals, each man a valiant thane.

There were threescore knights moreover of that royal company,

Warriors whom Hagen the dauntless had brought from his seignory.

Hawart and Iring, chieftains of Etzel’s own war-band,

Went with Burgundia’s Princes to the palace hand in hand.

Dankwart withal, and Wolfhart, an earl of high degree,

Bare them amidst of the concourse with knightly courtesy.

So now when the Lord of Rhineland passed through the palace-door,

Etzel the King wide-ruling would tarry no whit more:

He leapt adown from his high-seat when he saw him standing there.

Never was welcoming given by king unto king more fair.

“Welcome be thou, Lord Gunther! Lord Gernot, welcome to thee,

And to Giselher your brother! I bade you Princes three,

With greeting and all true service, from Worms beyond the Rhine.

Welcome to me, King Gunther, be all these vassals of thine.

Be ye twain also welcome, good knights, to my festival,

Volker the valiant champion, and thou, Lord Hagen withal.

Unto me and my wife be ye welcome here in the land of the Hun:

Messages unto Rhineland hath she sent you many an one.”

Made answer Hagen of Troneg: “Her words of love have I heard.

Had I not in my masters’ service hither to Hunland spurred,

O King, to render thee honour had I come unto thy land.”

Then the host right noble and royal took each dear guest by the hand;

And he led them unto the high-seat, and set them at his own board.

For the guests the drink of welcome the cupbearers hasted and poured,

Mead, wine, and mulberry-brewis, into golden goblets wide;

So they hailed with gladsome welcome those thanes, Burgundia’s pride.

Then spake the great King Etzel: “O guests, I needs must avow

That nought on the earth more welcome to mine heart could befall me now

Than cometh, O knights, by your presence, for to see you here am I fain;

And thereby hath the Queen’s heart gotten relief from yearning pain.

Sooth, oftentimes had I marvelled wherein I had haply transgressed,

In that, though I had won to my feast-hall many a noble guest,

Yet ye, the chiefest, have never deigned to my land to ride:

But now at the last I behold you, and mine heart is satisfied.”

Answered a knight great-hearted, and Rüdiger made reply:

“Well may ye rejoice to behold them, for their knightly honour is high;

And this can my Mistress’ kinsmen in the face of the world maintain.

And they bring to thy palace-portals full many a hero-thane.”

On a fair Midsummer even they came, those guests renowned,

To the court of Etzel the mighty. Full seldom hath it been found

That the guests of a king had greeting so fair as the heroes won.

And by this was the hour of feasting, and the King to the board led on.

In the midst of his guests sat never a host more gracious-willed.

There were meats in abundant measure, and with wine were the cups aye filled.

Whatsoever a guest might crave for, straightway it lay at his side,

For honour to heroes whose prowess had been published far and wide.

Spent measureless toil and trouble, and nought for the cost did he care.

Palace and tower rose stately, with chambers therein untold,

And a lordly-fashioned feast-hall, in the midst of a great stronghold.

To lodge the knights unnumbered that sought to him ceaselessly,

And all the host of his liegemen: for twelve kings mighty of sway,

And warriors worship-worthy, had he in his war-band aye,

So lived he blithely with kinsmen and vassals about his throne;

And the good King’s halls with thronging and gladsome tumult were loud

That rose from his valiant warriors, and his heart was high and proud.

XXX. How Hagen and Volker kept Watch while Men slept

By this was the daylight ended, and nearer the night-tide drew.

But perplexed were the way-worn heroes, for as yet they nowise knew

Where they should find them couches for the rest of the slumber-tide.

Then Hagen put it to question, and by him were they certified.

For unto their host spake Gunther: “God prosper you of his grace!

We would fain go hence to our slumber: thou have us excused for a space.

Tomorn we return right early, if this to the King seem best.”

Then the host with blithe leave-taking let all depart to their rest.

But the Queen’s folk thronged and beset them, and pressed on every side.

Then out spake Volker the dreadless, and unto the Huns he cried:

“What mean ye to bar and to cumber our feet, discourteous crew?

If ye from our path avoid not, mischief shall light upon you!

Upon some this bow of my viol so heavily shall smite,

That whoso there be that love them shall weep for their woeful plight.

Hence from our path! Meseemeth it were best that ye block not our way!

Knights these name them—but little enow of the knight have they!”

The while that the viol-minstrel spake thus angerly,

Around him Hagen the dauntless cast a scornful eye;

And he said: “Ye have heard good counsel from the minstrel battle-keen.

Get you hence to your lodging, ye men of Kriemhild the Queen!

Whatsoe’er be your purpose of malice, now shall it nowise speed.

Come early to us to-morrow, if ye fain would essay some deed,

And leave us way-worn warriors to rest in peace this night.

It was ever the wont of true men to do their deeds in the light.”

Then brought they the guests Burgundian to a hall both great and wide;

For all that throng of warriors was it dight for the slumber-tide

With couches exceeding splendid: long and broad they were.

—There trusted Kriemhild to tangle their feet in murder’s snare.

With tapestries of Arras were the couches overspread.

Wrought all of radiant loomwork, and strown was every bed

With glistering silks Arabian, the richest that eye hath seen,

And coverlets lay thereover that gleamed with lordly sheen.

And rich rugs, some of ermine fashioned, lay in sight,

And some of the dusky sable, whereunder through the night

They should rest them lying softly till shone the light of day.

Sooth, never a king with his vassals in state more lordly lay.

“Alas for the place of our resting!” the young Prince Giselher cried,

“And alas for our friends and our kinsmen that hither with us have hied!

With what fair words soever my sister hath bidden us come,

We have won, I sorely fear me, through her hate to the Net of Doom!”

“Nay then, put by misgivings,” said Hagen, “and rest you well.

Myself will to-night be your watchman and slumber-sentinel,

And faithfully will I guard you till morning bringeth the day.

Fear nought till then: thereafter let him keep his head who may.”

Low bowed them unto him all men, and thanked him courteously;

Then on their beds they cast them. Few moments fleeted by

Ere hero by goodly hero untroubled rest had won.

And now ’gan Hagen the dreadless his harness of battle to don.

Then answered the viol-minstrel, and the good thane Volker spake:

“If thou scorn my request not, Hagen, with thee will I undertake

This night the watching in armour, till the shadows flee away.”

Then heartily thanked he Volker, and thus did the warrior say:

“Now God from his Heaven reward thee, Volker, of men most dear!

In all my sorest peril would I have none other near

Than thee alone, whensoever into hard straits I were brought.

Full well will I requite thee, so death forestall me not.”

Then did these twain array them in mail bright-glittering;

And over his arm his buckler did either warrior sling.

Forth of the great hall went they afront of the door to stand,

And they guarded the guests there lying with loyal heart and hand.

Then Volker the battle-eager unclasped his buckler good

From his arm, and upright set it, that propped by the wall it stood.

Then unto where was his viol he turned him back again,

And rendered his tired friends service worthy of such a thane.

For under the great hall’s doorway he sat on the threshold-stone—

More valiant viol-harper never hath mortal known.

When the strings thrilled under his fingers and the soul of the viol woke,

Low murmured their thanks unto Volker the proud, the homeless folk.

The walls and the rafters echoed as the chords pealed loud and clear—

In might and in music-cunning was the hero without a peer:—

Then sweeter and softer they whispered like the ripple of murmuring streams,

And so were the heavy-hearted lulled into happy dreams.

So when all slumbered, and Volker was ware that their cares were stilled,

Then over his arm the warrior drew once more his shield;

And forth he strode from the portal, and afront of the door he stood

To ward his friends and kinsmen from Kriemhild’s avengers of blood.

Now hard on the hour of midnight, or earlier perchance,

He marked, this Volker the dreadless, the gleam of a helmet glance

Far away through the darkness. The vassals of Kriemhild were there,

Full fain to have done some mischief to the sleepers unaware.

She said: “If ye come on them sleeping, in God’s name have a care

That of all this company one man, and only he, be slain,

Hagen the faithless traitor: your hands from the rest refrain.”

Then spake the viol-minstrel: “Friend Hagen, see to it now

That we bear this burden of peril together, I and thou.

Lo, in front of the hall in armour I see folk gathered near.

If I may divine their purpose, they come to fall on us here.”

“Hush!” answered Hagen: “suffer that they come unto us full close.

Ere they be ware of our presence, shall the helms of yonder foes

With these good swords be cloven that shall swing in the hands of twain.

In evil plight unto Kriemhild will we send them back again!”

Then ware was one of the warriors of the Hunfolk suddenly

How that the door was guarded. In haste to the rest spake he:

“The deed that we had purposed, now doth fate forestall.

I behold the viol-minstrel stand guard afront of the hall.

He wears on his head a helmet whose splendour flames through the dark,

As adamant hard and burnished, dintless withal and stark.

Bright glow the rings of his hauberk, as fire that flashes afar;

And beside him standeth Hagen. Well warded the strangers are!”

Then backward they faltered: when Volker marked how they turned to flee,

Straightway unto his comrade he spake full angerly:

“Now suffer me from the hall-way to go to yon men in mail:

I will speak with the vassals of Kriemhild, and ask of the night-tide’s tale.”

“Now nay, an thou lovest me,” Hagen answered, “thou shalt not so!

If once thou leave this portal, yon battle-eager foe

With onset of swords may bring thee right soon into such hard strait,

That I needs must help, though our kinsmen thereby met an evil fate.

For if we twain in battle were compassed by yon false crew,

Haply some two of their comrades, or four, or ever we knew,

Into the great hall rushing, therein might work such scathe

On our slumbering friends, that we surely should rue it unto our death.”

And again made answer Volker: “At the least let us do this then,

To cause them to know of a surety that we have espied yon men.

Then they, those vassals of Kriemhild, can nowise lie unto us

That they sought not to do to the King’s guests a deed most treacherous.”

Then cried the viol-minstrel, and the throng of the Huns he hailed:

“How cometh it, valiant heroes, that ye come thus armour-mailed?

Be ye fain, O vassals of Kriemhild, to ride in quest of spoil?

Then take ye me and my comrade to help in your knightly toil.”

But no man rendered him answer. Then wrathful waxed his mood.

“Out on you, caitiff dastards!” cried that warrior good.

“To murder us in our slumber—for this be ye prowling nigh?

Never yet to such noble heroes was done such treachery!”

Right soon thereafter the story unto the Queen was told

How the men she had sent had failed her: then waxed she heavy-souled.

New plots she devised, for her hatred was cruel as the grave.

Destined thereby to perish was many a hero brave.

XXXI. How they bore them at Mass and Tourney

“So chill now groweth mine harness,” said Volker unto his friend,

“That I trow in no long season will the night-tide draw to an end.

Yea, and I feel by the dawn-breeze that hard at hand is the day.”

Then waked they many a hero that still in slumber lay.

Now on the guests in the great hall the morning light shone fair,

And Hagen fell to question the good knights gathered there

If they would go to the minster the chanting of mass to hear;

For now after Christian custom the bells of prime rang clear.

The chanting was but a discord: sooth, marvel therein was none

That Christian men and heathen sang not in unison.

Yet minded to go to the minster were they of Gunther’s train;

And they rose up all from the couches whereon through the night they had lain.

Then did the warriors clothe them in such royal-rich array

That to no king’s kingdom ever in any after-day

Brought heroes goodlier vesture. But wroth waxed Hagen thereat,

And he cried: “It were well ye arrayed you in other raiment than that!

Ye know too well of a surety how doth the matter stand.

Therefore instead of roses take ye weapons in hand,

And instead of caps bejewelled your helmets gleaming bright,

Forasmuch as we have full warning of wicked Kriemhild’s spite.

This day for our lives must we battle: this unto you I say.

Instead of silken tunics ye must wear steel hauberks to-day;

And instead of costly mantles must bear shields massy and broad,

That if any rage against you ye may nowise be overawed.

My well-belovèd masters, kinsmen and liegemen mine,

With hearts of sincere repentance draw nigh to the holy shrine,

And lay before God Almighty your burden of need and fear;

For know ye this of a surety, that death to us all is near.

Forget not past transgressions, the sins wherein ye had part,

And stand in your God’s presence with humble and contrite heart.

Yea, hearken ye all to the warning, every valiant thane—

If God in Heaven help not, ye shall hear no mass again.”

Onward then to the minster princes and liegemen passed.

In the holy outer precinct were they bidden all stand fast

By Hagen, that each from other might so be sundered by none;

For he said: “As yet none knoweth what by the Huns shall be done.

Set down, O ye my kinsmen, your shields before your feet;

And, if any in insolent fashion us stranger guests shall greet,

With deadly wounds requite it. Lo, Hagen’s rede is this;

And thereby shall ye prove by trial that so for your honour it is.”

Those comrades, Volker and Hagen, planted them side by side

In front of the wide-walled minster: there fixed did they abide;

For they did it of this set purpose, that the Queen might enter not

Unjostled by their shoulders—unto such stern mood were they wrought.

Then came the Lord of the Hunland, and beside him his fair Queen paced.

With royal-rich apparel was Kriemhild’s beauty graced.

And valiant warriors many in the train of these drew nigh.

’Neath the tramp of the feet of the vassals of the Queen the dust rose high.

When the great King beheld them all mail-clad as for fight,

Those princes and their liegemen, he cried unto them forthright:

“What meaneth this?—behold I my friends in battle-gear?

By my troth, it should vex me sorely if any harmed them here!

All wrong, whatsoever atonement they asked, would I requite.

If to their heart and their spirit any have done despite,

I will show unto them and to all men what indignation have I.

What redress they demand soever, nothing do I deny.”

To the King made answer Hagen: “None doeth despite unto us.

It is ever the wont of my masters to go in armour thus,

Whose guests they be soever, till three full days have run.

We would make our complaint unto Etzel, if a wrong unto us had been done.”

Now the word that Hagen answered full well was heard of the Queen.

How flashed ’twixt her half-closed eyelids her hate’s glance bitter-keen!

But as touching her fatherland’s custom not she would utter the truth,

Albeit Burgundia’s daughter had known it full well from her youth.

How grim and stern soever was the Queen’s mood unto her foe,

Had any revealed her purpose unto Etzel the King, I trow,

He had verily prevented the thing that thereafter befell;

But their pride thought scorn of complaining, and nought unto him would they tell.

To the minster-door paced Kriemhild with a multitude in her train;

Yet to step aside at her coming they two would nowise deign

Two handbreadths: wroth were the Hunfolk, as men that chafe being wronged,

For in passing the stalwart heroes their Queen was jostled and thronged.

Wroth with their reckless defiance were Etzel’s chamberlains:

Full fain from the path had they thrust them, and angered those insolent thanes,

Had they but dared in the presence of the great King to do aught.

So then there was thronging and pressing, but more than this was there nought.

When again they turned them homeward from holy chant and prayer,

High-borne upon goodly chargers hosts of the Hunfolk were.

In Kriemhild’s train moreover was many a winsome maid,

And warriors full seven thousand in the Queen’s war-band were arrayed.

Amidst of her ladies Kriemhild at the casement sat on high

At Etzel’s side: that pageant well-pleased he saw sweep by.

They would fain see the far-famed heroes ride in the tourney-ring.

What gallant Burgundian barons were in presence of the King!

Now came Burgundia’s marshal bringing the mighty steeds,

And came with Dankwart the valiant to minister unto their needs

The squires of the princes and barons, the lords of Burgundia-land;

And they brought out the good steeds saddled for the Niblung warrior-band.

So soon as they all were mounted, the Princes and their men,

Volker the fearless captain gave them his counsel then

After their own land’s fashion to close in the wild mellay.

Then into the lists the heroes rode in gallant array.

That which the minstrel counselled, was none that against it spake.

Then in the lists did the clashing and clanging of arms awake.

Into the spacious tilt-yard thronged many a thane to the strife:

And high over all sat gazing King Etzel and his wife.

Unto the place of the tourney six hundred warriors came—

Knights were they all of Dietrich—to meet those guests of fame.

They would clash in the mimic battle with the sons of Burgundy:

Had their lord but given them licence, they had done it joyfully.

Ha, they were goodly warriors that rode to the barriers!

But tidings of their purpose were borne unto Dietrich’s ears:

Forthright their clashing in tourney with Gunther’s men he forbade.

He feared for his vassals, lest mischief befall them—good cause he had!

And so, when the knights of Dietrich were thus withheld from the fray,

On came the men of Bechlaren, even Rüdiger’s array;

Five hundred in front of the palace rode under buckler-fence.

Well pleased had been the Margrave, afar had they tarried thence.

On through the press fast riding he came to his retinue,

And he spake unto all his liegemen: “It must needs be known unto you

How chafed and ungentle of spirit the warriors of Rhineland be.

Ye therefore refrain from the tourney, and so shall ye pleasure me.”

So when these war-fain heroes had turned from the lists away,

Then came Thuringia’s champions, as telleth the ancient lay,

And valiant men from Daneland a thousand with these there were.

Then the shards of the shivered lances went leaping high through the air.

Into the ringing tourney Irnfried and Hawart rode,

But the champions of the Rhineland their onset proudly abode;

And they clashed with the knights Thuringian in the hero-sport of spears:

Full many a goodly shield-rim did the lightening lances pierce.

Then came the good knight Blödel, and followed him thousands three.

Etzel the King and Kriemhild watched full eagerly

The meeting of charging squadrons, the gallant glorious fray:

But in fierce joy Kriemhild waited till her hate should have its way.

“If haply any be wounded, then, ah then, I ween,

This sport may grow into earnest: then over my scornful foe

Should I stand in revenge triumphant—small were my grief, I trow!”

Then clashed Gibeke and Schrutan with the strangers front to front,

And with them Hornbog and Ramung, after the Hunnish wont:

Yet stayed by the knights Burgundian were the onsets of them all.

The splintered spear-shafts whirling flew over the palace-wall.

Yet, how featly they rode soever, it was nought but empty sound.

With clanging of smitten bucklers rang wide echoes round

From mansion and hall, as the champions of Gunther clashed with the Hun.

High praise and glorious honour by his mighty men were won.

So strenuous was their pastime as in grapple of giants they met,

That drenched were the saddle-housings with foam-flakes and with sweat

From the goodly chargers dripping, as in gentle and joyous sport

The heroes against the Hunfolk matched them in chivalrous sort.

Then the noble viol-minstrel, Volker the aweless, said:

“I trow these knights be faint-hearts; to meet us fairly they dread.

Yet hear I talk of their hatred, how bitter against us it is.

Sooth, never a better season may they find to prove it than this!

Now once more unto the stables,” again Lord Volker cried,

“Let the squires lead back the horses. Peradventure again will we ride

When draweth the day unto even, if haply the time suffice.

Perchance to the knights Burgundian will the Queen give valour’s prize!”

Then into the lists came riding one of such lordly mien

That in all the host of the Hunfolk no goodlier man was seen.

Perchance from a casement a dear one gazed on his pomp and his pride:

Like a maid was he richly apparelled, yea, like a young knight’s bride.

Then again in his scorn spake Volker: “Who now can forbear to smite?

He must needs take a buffet, yon minion of women, yon carpet-knight.

He hath set his life on the hazard: not I will be turned from my path!

As for yon wife of King Etzel, nothing I reck of her wrath.”

“Now nay, by my love I charge thee,” said Gunther, “do not thus!

All folk will blame if the first blood be wantonly shed by us.

Let the Huns be the first wrong-doers: it were more for our honour, I ween.”

—And all this while King Etzel at the casement sat with the Queen.

“I make one more in the tourney,” cried Hagen instantly.

“We will let yon dames at their casements and the knights that throng us see

How knightly is our jousting: yea, it were right well done.

In any wise, from our foemen small praise shall by us be won.”

Volker the battle-eager again rode into the strife:

That onset to many a woman with sore heart-anguish was rife.

From breast to back his lance-head hath pierced that noble Hun.

That stroke wept many a maiden and matrons many an one.

Straightway returning Hagen came with his hero-train;

With his own threescore warriors he rode the lists again.

On pricked they to where the minstrel had shown them such grim sport.

—Etzel the while and Kriemhild gazed down on the stormy court.

Now also Burgundia’s princes would leave not void of aid

In the midst of unnumbered foemen that minstrel unafraid.

With a thousand heroes behind them, the flower of chivalry,

They rode the lords of the tourney, and their hearts were proud and high.

Now when that knight of the Hunfolk in death had been thus laid low,

A cry brake forth from his kinsmen of lamentation and woe.

All through the throng were they shouting, “Now who hath done this thing?”

Men answered, “Volker the dauntless, the lord of the viol-string.”

They shouted, “Take ye the bucklers, and grip ye the sword in hand!”

Those friends of the slaughtered Margrave, the lords of the Hunfolk’s land.

Fain were they to smite the minstrel to death for that grim deed;

But down from the casement hasted the King with eager speed.

Then rose from the midst of the Hunfolk uproar that on all sides rang.

Down to the earth from their saddles the Kings with their liegemen sprang:

Behind them they put their horses, the men of Gunther’s array.

Now cometh in haste King Etzel, with intent to part the fray.

From a man of the slain Hun’s kinsmen, who chanced anigh him to stand,

He gat him a sword keen-whetted, yea, tore it out of his hand,

And therewith beat back his people, and he cried in exceeding wrath:

“May I not keep faith with the heroes? Must I break my plighted troth?

If ye had slain this minstrel in revenge for the deed he hath done,

On the word of a king, I had hanged you—I had hanged you every one!

As touching the spear-thrust given to the Hun—I marked him ride:—

It was not of his will, but his charger stumbled in his stride.

These be my guests: ye shall suffer that in peace they all go hence.”

So himself became their escort. Led were the horses thence

To the stalls, for squires there waited, and henchmen not a few,

With swift obedience ready to render them service due.

So back to the hall of the palace his guests did the host-king lead:

He suffered in his presence no wrathful word or deed.

They set the tables in order, the water the pages bare:

—Yet many a most stern foeman had the Rhineland warriors there.

Followed the lords Burgundian, and weapons had they all.

On the guests they scowled their hatred, as they passed to the feastful board;

For they burned to avenge their kinsman when time and place should accord.

Spake the lord of the land to his people, “is foul discourtesy

Now whoso dareth to offer an insult to any guest

Shall atone with his head for the outrage. Huns, ye have heard mine hest.”

Long was it, ere at the banquet seated were all those chiefs,

The while the heart of Kriemhild was racked with manifold griefs.

“O Prince of Bern,” she pleaded, “this day must I of thee

Entreat both help and counsel in my sore perplexity.”

Then unto her the good knight Hildebrand answer made:

“Whosoever slayeth the Niblungs doth it without mine aid.

What treasures tempt him soever, he taketh his death with the gold.

Never yet have they been vanquished, those warriors aweless-bold.”

Notes in this chapter

Note 1 · Gladness and sorrow within him strove for the mastery[11].