C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
From the Nibelungenlied
By Nibelungenlied (Twelfth Century)
I
Of champions well approved in perils manifold.
Of feasts and merry meetings, of weeping and of wail,
And deeds of gallant daring I’ll tell you in my tale.
That in all the world together a fairer could not be.
This maiden’s name was Kriemhild; through her in dismal strife
Full many a prowest warrior thereafter lost his life.
Wooed the lovely lady; she from none had blame.
Matchless was her person, matchless was her mind:
This one maiden’s virtue graced all womankind.
Gunther and eke Gernot, each a redoubted knight,
And Giselher the youthful, a chosen champion he;
This lady was their sister, well loved of all the three.
But in field and foray champions fierce and rude.
They ruled a mighty kingdom, Burgundy by name;
They wrought in Etzel’s country deeds of deathless fame.
There had they suit and service from haughtiest chivalry
For broad lands and lordships, and glorious was their state,
Till wretchedly they perished by two noble ladies’ hate….
How a wild young falcon she trained for many a day,
Till two fierce eagles tore it; to her there could not be
In all the world such sorrow as this perforce to see.
But she the threatening future could only thus unfold:
“The falcon that thou trainedst is sure a noble mate;
God shield him in his mercy, or thou must lose him straight.”
Ne’er to love, assure thee, my heart will I resign.
I’ll live and die a maiden, and end as I began,
Nor (let what else befall me) will suffer woe for man.”
Would’st thou true heartfelt pleasure taste ever here below,
Man’s love alone can give it. Thou’rt fair as eye can see:
A fitting mate God send thee, and naught will wanting be.”
From many a woman’s fortune this truth is clear as day,
That falsely smiling Pleasure with Pain requites us ever.
I from both will keep me, and thus will sorrow never.”
Lived the noble maiden many a happy day,
Nor one more than another found favor in her sight;
Still at the last she wedded a far-renownèd knight.
Foretold by her wise mother. What vengeance took the queen
On her nearest kinsmen who him to death had done!
That single death atoning died many a mother’s son.
I
(Whose father was called Siegmund, his mother Siegelind),
In a sumptuous castle down by the Rhine’s fair side;
Men did call it Xanten: ’twas famous far and wide.
From shame and from dishonor lived he ever free.
Forthwith fierce and famous waxed the mighty man.
Ah! what height of worship in this world he wan!
Many a kingdom sought he in his manly mood,
And through strength of body in many a land rode he.
Ah! what men of valor he found in Burgundy!
His hand had mighty wonders achieved in war’s debate,
Whereof the voice of rumor will ever sing and say,
Though much must pass in silence in this our later day.
One might full many a marvel tell in Siegfried’s praise:
What lofty honors graced him, and how fair his fame;
How he charmed to love him many a noble dame.
And his own lofty nature gave him virtues rare;
From him his father’s country grace and honor drew,
To see him proved in all things so noble and so true.
The people saw him gladly; many a wife and many a maid
Wished he would often thither, and bide for ever there;
They viewed him all with favor, whereof he well was ware.
And but with guards about him they seldom let him ride.
Uptrained was he by sages, who what was honor knew,
So might he win full lightly broad lands and liegemen too.
Whatever thereto needed, he had of it full store.
He began fair ladies to his love to woo,
And they inclined to Siegfried with faith and honor true.
A
As I have heard reported, he found beside a hill
With Niblung’s hoarded treasure full many a man of might;
Strange seemed they to the champion, till he came to know them right.
Forth from a yawning cavern: now hear a wonder tell,
How those fierce Nibelungers the treasure would divide;
The noble Siegfried eyed them, and wondered as he eyed.
Till they got sight of him too, when one of them began,
“Here comes the stalwart Siegfried, the chief of Netherland.”
A strange adventure met he with that Nibelungers’ band.
With one accord they begged him, those noble princes young,
To part the hoard betwixt them; and ever pressing bent
The hero’s wavering purpose till he yielded full consent.
That not a hundred wagons could bear the costly load.
Still more of gold so ruddy from the Nibelungers’ land:
All this was to be parted by noble Siegfried’s hand.
But ill was done the service, which they had sought so fain,
And he so hard had granted: Siegfried, the hero good,
Failed the long task to finish; this stirred their angry mood.
When the two kings indignant set on him with their train;
But Siegfried gripped sharp Balmung (so hight their father’s sword),
And took from them their country and the beaming precious hoard.
A strong and sturdy giant; but what could all avail?
All twelve to death successive smote Siegfried’s mastering hand,
And vanquished chiefs seven hundred of the Nibelungers’ land
Both of the forceful swordsman and of the sword he swayed,
Unnumbered youthful heroes to Siegfried bent that hour,—
Themselves, their lands, their castles submitting to his power.
Then waged with puissant Albric a stern and dubious strife,—
Who thought to take full vengeance for both his masters slain,
But found his might and manhood with Siegfried’s matched in vain.
Like to wild mountain lions to th’ hollow hill they ran;
He ravished there the cloud-cloak from struggling Albric’s hold,
And then became the master of th’ hoarded gems and gold.
Then bade he bring the treasure back to the cave again,
Whence the men of Niblung the same before had stirred;
On Albric last the office of keeper he conferred.
In all that to a master from his man is due.
Such deeds (said he of Trony) has conquering Siegfried done;
Be sure such mighty puissance, knight has never won.
A poison-spitting dragon he slew with courage bold,
And in the blood then bathed him; this turned to horn his skin.
And now no weapons harm him, as often proved has been.
N
From misty clouds outbeaming; then all his weary woes
Left him, in heart who bore her, and so long time had done.
He saw there stately standing the fair, the peerless one.
Her rosy blushes darted a softer, milder light.
Whate’er might be his wishes, each could not but confess
He ne’er on earth had witnessed such perfect loveliness.
That through the clouds so purely glimmers from afar,
E’en so love-breathing Kriemhild dimmed every beauty nigh.
Well might at such a vision many a bold heart beat high.
Around th’ high-mettled champions close and closer drew,
Each pressing each, and struggling to see the matchless maid.
Then inly was Sir Siegfried both well and ill apaid.
That I should dare to woo thee? sure ’twas an idle dream!
Yet, rather than forsake thee, far better were I dead.”
Thus thinking, thus impassioned, waxed he ever white and red.
As though upon a parchment in glowing hues portrayed
By some good master’s cunning; all owned, and could no less,
Eye had not seen a pattern of such fair manliness.
Straight did the gentle warriors, as such became, obey.
There many a knight, enraptured, saw many a dame in place
Shine forth in bright perfection of courtliness and grace.
“Him who in hour of peril his aid so frankly brought,
Requite, dear brother Gunther, as fits both him and you,
Before this fair assembly; th’ advice I give, I ne’er shall rue.
’Twill sure be to our profit, if she the warrior greet.
’Twill make him ours for ever, this man of matchless might,
If she but give him greeting, who never greeted knight.”
And found and fair saluted the knight of Netherland:—
“The king to court invites you, such favor have you won;
His sister there will greet you: this to honor you is done.”
His heart was full of pleasure without alloy of pain,
To see and meet so friendly fair Uta’s fairer child.
Then greeted she the warrior maidenly and mild.
His cheek as fire all glowing; then said she modestly,
“Sir Siegfried, you are welcome, noble knight and good!”
Yet loftier at that greeting rose his lofty mood.
Love’s strong constraint together impelled th’ enamored pair;
Their longing eyes encountered, their glances every one
Bound knight and maid for ever; yet all by stealth was done.
I do not know for certain, but well can understand
’Twere surely past believing they ventured not on this:
Two loving hearts, so meeting, else had done amiss.
Knew he such heartfelt pleasure as on this happy day,
When she, than May more blooming, more bright than summer’s pride,
His own, a dream no longer, was standing by his side.
To be with lovely Kriemhild as Siegfried now I see,
Or closer e’en than Siegfried: well were I then, I ween.”
Never yet was champion who so deserved a queen.
All could look on nothing save on that gentle pair.
Now ’twas allowed that Kriemhild the peerless knight should kiss.
Ne’er in the world had drained he so full a draught of bliss….
There so her stately beauty her rich attire became,
That drooped each high aspiring, born but at once to die.
Sure was that maid created to ravish every eye.
Well might he thank his fortune that, all those knights among,
To him inclined the maiden whom still in heart he bore,
While he to her, as fitted, returned as much or more.
Again to come beside her was called the champion good.
Then first by that sweet maiden thanks to the knight were given,
That he before his comrades so warrior-like had striven.
“For all your high deservings in honor’s bead-roll filed,
The which I know from all men have won you fame and grace.”
Sir Siegfried, love-bewildered, looked Kriemhild in the face.
Nor once, while I have being, will head on pillow lay,
Till I have done to please them whate’er they bid me do;
And this, my lady Kriemhild, is all for love of you.”
O
From certain lusty champions that for their pastime chose
To prove themselves at tilting in the castle court;
Then many a knight and lady ran thither to see the sport.
Each on a good knight thinking that either loved full well.
Then thus began fair Kriemhild, “My husband’s of such might,
That surely o’er these kingdoms he ought to rule by right.”
Were there none other living but thou and he alone,
Then might, no doubt, the kingdoms be ruled by him and thee;
But long as Gunther’s living, that sure can never be.”
How proud he stalks,—conspicuous among those warrior bands,
As doth the moon far-beaming the glimmering stars outshine?
Sure have I cause to pride me when such a knight is mine.”
How stout soe’er or stately, one greater is than he:
Gunther, thy noble brother, a higher place may claim,
Of knights and kings the foremost in merit and in fame.”
All praise that I can give him can ne’er be termed too great.
In all he does how matchless! In honor too how clear!
Believ’st thou this, Queen Brunhild? At least he’s Gunther’s peer.”—
What I said, assure thee, with ample cause I spake.
I heard them both allow it, then when both first I saw,
And the stout king in battle compelled me to his law.
’Twas fairly owned by Siegfried that he was Gunther’s man.
Myself I heard him own it, and such I hold him still.”
“Forsooth,” replied fair Kriemhild, “they must have used me ill.
As to make me, their sister, a lowly vassal’s bride?
For manners’ sake then, Brunhild, this idle talk give o’er,
And by our common friendship, let me hear no more.”
“Shall I renounce the service of all the knightly train
That hold of him, our vassal, and are our vassals too?”
Into sudden anger at this fair Kriemhild flew:
Thee with his vassal service: he fills a higher place
Than e’en my brother Gunther, noble though be his strain.
Henceforth thou shouldst be wiser, nor hold such talk again.
Since both of us thou rulest with so much power and might,
Why to thee his service so long he has denied.
Nay! I can brook no longer thy insolence and pride.”
“Fain would I see this instant whether to thee be paid
Public respect and honor such as waits on me.”
Then both the dames with anger lowering you might see.
Since thou my noble husband a vassal hast declared,
By the men of both our consorts to-day it shall be seen,
That I the church dare enter before King Gunther’s queen.
And that my noble husband worthier is than thine;
Nor for this with presumption shall I be taxed, I trow:
To-day thou’lt see moreover thy lowly vassal go
Assure thee, thou’lt behold me honored more royally
Than the proudest princess that ever here wore crown.”
The dames their spite attested with many a scowl and frown.
“Then thou with thy women must apart remain
From my dames and damsels, as to the church we go.”
Thereto Kriemhild answered, “Trust me it shall be so.
“You must not let your mistress here be put to shame;
That you have gorgeous raiment make plain to every eye.
What she has just asserted, she soon shall fain deny.”
Matrons alike and maidens each donned a glittering vest.
Queen Brunhild with her meiny was now upon her way.
By this was decked fair Kriemhild in royal rich array,
Bright stuffs were their apparel, in far Arabia wrought.
So towards the minster marched the maidens fair;
All the men of Siegfried were waiting for them there.
How with their trains far-sundered passed either noble queen,
Not walking both together as was their wont before;
Full many a prowest warrior thereafter rued it sore.
Meanwhile by way of pastime many a warrior good
Held light and pleasant converse with many a smiling dame;
When up the lovely Kriemhild with her radiant meiny came.
Was as wind to the splendor her dazzling ladies wore.
So rich her own apparel in gold and precious things,
She alone might outglitter the wives of thirty kings.
That such resplendent vesture never met mortal eye
As on that fair retinue then sparkled to the sun.
Except to anger Brunhild, Kriemhild had not so done.
There at once the hostess let out her deadly spite.
Bitterly and proudly she bade fair Kriemhild stand:
“No vassaless precedeth the lady of the land.”
“Couldst thou still be silent, better ’twere for thee.
Thou’st made thy beauteous body a dishonored thing.
How can a vassal’s leman be consort of a king?”
“So call I thee,” said Kriemhild: “thy maidenly disdain
Yielded first to Siegfried, my husband, Siegmund’s son;
Ay! ’twas not my brother that first thy favors won.
To take a lowly lover, to ease a vassal’s pain!
Complaints from thee,” said Kriemhild, “methinks are much amiss.”
“Verily,” said Brunhild, “Gunther shall hear of this.”
Why didst thou me, thy equal, with vassalship upbraid?
Know this for sure and certain (to speak it gives me pain),
Never can I meet thee in cordial love again.”
Straight with all her followers before the queen she made
Her way into the minster; then deadly hate ’gan rise;
And starting tears o’erclouded the shine of brightest eyes.
Still it seemed to Brunhild they lingered all too long.
Both on her mind and body a load like lead there lay.
Many a high-born hero for her sorrow was to pay.
Thought she, “This wordy woman shall tell me something more
Of her charge against me spread so loud and rife.
If he has but so boasted, let him look to his life!”
Then spake the noble Brunhild, “Stop and do me right.
You’ve voiced me for a wanton: prove it ere you go.
You and your foul speeches have wrought me pain and woe.”
E’en with the gold I’ll prove it that on my hand I wear;
’Twas this that Siegfried brought me from where by you he lay.”
Never lived Queen Brunhild so sorrowful a day.
And mischievously hidden has since been many a year.
But now I’ve met with something by which the thief to guess.”
Both the dames were frenzied with passion masterless.
Thou wouldst have kept silence, hadst thou a sense of shame.
By the girdle here about me prove full well I can
That I am ne’er a liar; Siegfried was indeed thy man.”
With precious stones well garnished; a better ne’er was wrought:
When Brunhild but beheld it, her tears she could not hold.
The tale must needs to Gunther and all his men be told.
G
To execute their treason, resolved to scour the wold,
The bear, the boar, the wild bull, by hill or dale or fen,
To hunt with keen-edged javelins: what fitter sport for valiant men?
Good store of costly viands they brought with them along.
Anon by a cool runnel he lost his guiltless life.
’Twas so devised by Brunhild, King Gunther’s moody wife.
He and his friend already had on the sumpters bound
Their gorgeous hunting raiment; they o’er the Rhine would go.
Never before was Kriemhild sunk so deep in woe.
“God grant me, dame, returning in health to see thee here;
So may those eyes see me too: meanwhile be blithe and gay
Among the gentle kinsmen; I must hence away.”
How she had told it Hagan; then the poor lady fell
To wailing and lamenting that ever she was born.
Then wept she without measure, sobbing and sorrow-worn.
I dreamt last night of evil,—how two fierce forest swine
Over the heath pursued thee; the flowers turned bloody red.
I cannot help thus weeping: I’m chilled with mortal dread.
Lest malice should be borne thee for misconceived offense.
Stay, my beloved Siegfried, take not my words amiss,—
’Tis the true love I bear thee that bids me counsel this.”—
Not a soul in Rhineland know I who bears me hate:
I’m well with all thy kinsmen; they’re all my firm allies:
Nor have I from any e’er deservèd otherwise.”—
Last night I dreamt two mountains fell thundering on thy head,
And I no more beheld thee: if thou from me wilt go,
My heart will sure be breaking with bitterness of woe.”
Lovingly he kissed her, that faithful wife and true;
Then took his leave, and parted: in a moment all was o’er;—
Living, alas poor lady! she saw him nevermore.
T
So earlier rose from table, and could no longer rest,
But straight would to the mountain the running brook to find,—
And so advanced the treason his faithless foes designed.
The beasts in that wild forest by Siegfried’s manhood slain.
Each witness gave him honor, and loud his praises spoke.
Alas, that with him Hagan his faith so foully broke!
Thus spake the fraudful Hagan, “Full oft have I heard say,
That none a match in swiftness for Kriemhild’s lord can be,
Whene’er to race he pleases: would he grant us this to see?”
“Well then! let’s make the trial! Together we will start
From hence to yonder runnel; let us at once begin:
And he shall pass for winner who shall be seen to win.”
Thereto rejoined stout Siegfried, “And if you pass me by,
Down at your feet I’ll lay me humbled on the grass.”
When these words heard Gunther, what joy could his surpass?
I’ll carry all the equipment that in the chase I wore,—
My spear, my shield, my vesture,—leave will I nothing out.”
His sword then and his quiver he girt him quick about.
Both for the race stood ready in shirts as white as snow.
Long bounds, like two wild panthers, o’er the grass they took,
But seen was noble Siegfried before them at the brook.
Now laid he down his quiver, and quick ungirt his sword;
Against the spreading linden he leaned his mighty spear:
So by the brook stood waiting the chief without a peer.
Down he laid his buckler by the water’s side;
For all the thirst that parched him, one drop he never drank
Till the king had finished: he had full evil thank.
O’er the rill King Gunther knelt down upon the grass;
When he his draught had taken he rose and stepped aside.
Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.
His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord conveyed,
Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear,
And to find out the token surveyed his vesture near;
He pierced him through the croslet, that sudden from the wound
Forth the life-blood spouted e’en o’er his murderer’s weed.
Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.
Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear,
As from the matchless champion whom he had butchered there.
Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware,
Out from betwixt his shoulders his own huge boar-spear stood!
He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true;
The traitor for his treason had then received his due:
His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground;
This from the bank he lifted, and straight at Hagan ran:
Him could not then by fleetness escape King Gunther’s man.
That the whirling buckler scattered wide a shower
Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke:
Full gladly had the warrior ta’en vengeance with that stroke.
Loud all around the meadow rang with the wondrous blow:
Had he in hand good Balmung, the murderer he had slain.
His wound was sore upon him; he writhed in mortal pain.
He could stand no longer; melted all his might.
In his paling visage the mark of death he bore.
Soon many a lovely lady sorrowed for him sore.
From the wound fresh gushing his heart’s blood fast did well.
Then thus amidst his tortures, e’en with his failing breath,
The false friends he upbraided who had contrived his death.
To you I still was faithful; I served you long and well:
But what boots all? for guerdon, treason and death I’ve won;
By your friends, vile traitors! foully have you done.
Shall take from such vile fathers a heritage of scorn.
On me you have wreaked malice where gratitude was due;—
With shame shall you be banished by all good knights and true.”
To many of that party sure ’twas a joyless day;
Whoe’er were true and faithful, they sorrowed for his fall,—
So much the peerless champion had merited of all.
Then spake the deadly wounded, “Little it boots your friend
Yourself to plot his murder, and then the deed deplore:
Such is a shameful sorrow; better at once ’twere o’er.”
Our cares all and suspicions are now for ever flown.
Who now are left, against us who’ll dare to make defense?
Well’s me, for all this weeping, that I have rid him hence.”
Had I weened thy friendship cloaked such murderous hate,
From such as thou full lightly could I have kept my life.
Now grieve I but for Kriemhild, my dear, my widowed wife.
Who this reproach must suffer from deed so foully done,
That by his murderous kinsmen his father thus was slain.
Had I but time to finish, of this I well might plain.
Said he, and turned to Gunther, “as you have done on me.
I saved your life and honor from shame and danger fell,
And thus am I requited by you I served so well.”
“O king! if thou a promise with any one wilt keep,
Let me in this last moment thy grace and favor find
For my dear love and lady, the wife I leave behind.
Guard her with faith and honor, as thou’rt a king and knight.
My father and my followers for me they long must wait,
Comrade ne’er found from comrade so sorrowful a fate.”
And then said, deadly groaning, “This foul and murderous blow
Deep will ye rue hereafter; this for sure truth retain,
That in slaying Siegfried you yourselves have slain.”
Some time with death he struggled, as though he scorned to yield
E’en to the foe whose weapon strikes down the loftiest head.
At last prone in the meadow lay mighty Siegfried dead.
“W
Farewell to all my honors! woe for my first amiss!
My truth—my God-given innocence—must they be both forgot?
Woe’s me, O God in heaven! that death relieves me not!
In either case forsaken is good, and evil done;
But should I side with neither, all would the waverer blame.
Ah! would He deign to guide me, from whom my being came!”
Whence many a valiant warrior soon came to lose his life
By the strong hand of Rudeger, and he too lastly fell.
So all his tale of sorrow you now shall hear me tell.
Fain had he given denial alike to king and queen.
Much feared the gentle margrave, if in the stern debate
He slew but one Burgundian, the world would bear him hate.
“Sir King! take back, I pray you, all that of you I hold,
My fiefs, both lands and castles; let none with me remain.
To distant realms, a wanderer, I’ll foot it forth again.
Rather my wife and daughter I’ll take in either hand,
Than faithless and dishonored in hateful strife lie dead.
Ah! to my own destruction I’ve ta’en your gold so red.”
My land as well as liegemen, all will I give to thee,
If thou’lt revenge me, Rudeger, and smite my foemen down.
High shalt thou rule with Etzel, and share his kingly crown.”
To my house I bade them, as guests I took them in,
Set meat and drink before them, they at my table fed,
And my best gifts I gave them;—how can I strike them dead?
No! no! on former favors, on ancient bonds I think.
I served the noble princes, I served their followers too,
And knit with them the friendship I now so deeply rue.
In all the world the maiden could find no fitter mate,—
True, faithful, brave, well-nurtured, rich, and of high degree;
Young prince yet saw I never so virtue-fraught as he.”
Take pity on our anguish! thou see’st us kneeling here,
The king and me, before thee: both clasp thy honored knees.
Sure never host yet feasted such fatal guests as these.”
“Sure must the life of Rudeger for all the kindness pay,
That you to me, my lady, and my lord the king have done,—
For this I’m doomed to perish, and that ere set of sun.
Both will to you fall vacant by stroke of foeman’s hand;
And so my wife and daughter I to your grace commend,
And all at Bechelaren, each trusty homeless friend.”
He and his queen together resumed their lively cheer.
“From us shall all thy people receive whate’er they need;
Thou too, I trust, this morning thyself wilt fairly speed.”
Meanwhile the wife of Etzel sorely to weep began.
Said he, “My word I gave you, I’ll keep it well to-day.
Woe for my friends, whom Rudeger in his own despite must slay.”
Soon his band of heroes found he mustered nigh.
Said he, “Up now, my warriors! don all your armor bright;
I ’gainst the bold Burgundians must to my sorrow fight.”…
Ye valiant Nibelungers! now stand on your defense.
I’d fain have been your comrade: your foe I now must be.
We once were friends together: now from that bond I’m free.”
Was not a man among them but sorrowed, high and low,
That thus a friend and comrade would ’gainst them mingle blows,
When they so much already had suffered from their foes.
To the faith wherein we trusted should ever prove untrue,
And turn upon his comrades in such an hour as this;—
Ne’er can I think that Rudeger can do so much amiss.”
I must with you do battle; to that my word is past.
So each of you defend him as he loves his life.
I must perform my promise,—so wills King Etzel’s wife.”
May God, right noble Rudeger, you for the favors pay
Which you so oft have done us, if e’en unto the end
To those who ever loved you you show yourself a friend.
Both I and my good kinsmen—if by your aid we live.
Your precious gifts, fair tokens of love and friendship dear,
Given when you brought us hither,—now think of them, good Rudeger!”
“Would that my gifts for ever might in your hands abide!
I’d fain in all assist you that life concerns or fame,
But that I fear, so doing, to get reproach and shame.”
Sure host ne’er guests entreated so well in word or deed,
As you did us, your comrades, when late with you we stayed.
If hence alive you bring us, ’twill be in full repaid.”
“That you were safe in Rhineland, and I with honor dead!
Now must I fight against you to serve your sister’s ends:
Sure never yet were strangers entreated worse by friends.”
For all your gorgeous presents! Your death I sore should rue,
Should that pure virtue perish, which ill the world can spare.
Your sword, which late you gave me, here by my side I wear.
Lifeless beneath its edges many a good champion lay.
Most perfect is its temper; ’tis sharp and strong as bright:
Knight sure a gift so goodly will give no more to knight.
If of the friends around me in hostile mood you slay,
With your own sword, good Rudeger, I needs must take your life,
Though you (Heaven knows!) I pity, and your good and noble wife.”
That e’en as you would wish it this matter all might go,
And your good friends ’scape harmless from this abhorrèd strife!
Then sure should trust in Gernot my daughter and my wife.”
“Why do you thus, Sir Rudeger? My friends here by my side
All love you, e’en as I do: why kindle strife so wild?
’Tis ill so soon to widow your late-betrothèd child.
How cruel and unfriendly ’twill to the world appear!
For more than on all others on you I still relied,
And took, through such affiance, your daughter for my bride.”
“Should God be pleased in safety to send thee hence away:
Let not the maiden suffer for aught that I do ill;
By your own princely virtue vouchsafe her favor still.”
“But should my high-born kinsmen who here within abide,
Once die by thee, no longer could I thy friend be styled;
My constant love ’twould sever from thee and from thy child.”
At once their shields they lifted, and forward fiercely sped
In the hall of Kriemhild to force the stranger crowd.
Thereat down from the stair-head Sir Hagan shouted loud:—
I and my lords a moment would yet with you confer;
Thereto hard need compels us, and danger gathering nigh:
What boot were it for Etzel though here forlorn we die?
The shield that lady Gotelind gave me late to bear
Is hewn and all-to broken by many a Hunnish brand.
I brought it fair and friendly hither to Etzel’s land.
That I might to defend me bear so well-proved a shield,
As that, right noble Rudeger, before thee now displayed!
No more should I in battle need then the hauberk’s aid.”—
But that I fear such proffer might waken Kriemhild’s ire.
Still, take it to thee, Hagan, and wield it well in hand.
Ah! might’st thou bring it with thee to thy Burgundian land!”
The eyes of many a champion with scalding tears were red.
’Twas the last gift, that buckler, e’er given to comrade dear
By the lord of Bechelaren, the blameless Rudeger:
Still at the gift he melted, which one so great and good
Gave in his last few moments, e’en on the eve of fight;
And with the stubborn warrior mourned many a noble knight.
Your like on earth, I’m certain, we never more shall see,
Who gifts so good and gorgeous to homeless wanderers give.
May God protect your virtue, that it may ever live!
“We have had to bear much sorrow, and more shall have anon.
Must friend with friend do battle, nor Heaven the conflict part?”
The noble margrave answered, “That wounds my inmost heart.”
Whate’er may chance between thee and my bold comrades here,
My hand shall touch thee never amidst the heady fight,
Not e’en if thou shouldst slaughter every Burgundian knight.”
Then all around were weeping for grief and doleful drear,
Since none th’ approaching mischief had hope to turn aside.
The father of all virtue in that good margrave died.
T
Thus the knight bespake she, ah! with what fell intent!
“Wilt thou but return me what thou from me hast ta’en,
Back thou mayst go living to Burgundy again.”
High-descended lady: I took an oath whilere,
That while my lords were living, or of them only one,
I’d ne’er point out the treasure: thus ’twill be given to none.”
Ah! when did ever falsehood assume so foul a shape?
He feared that soon as ever the queen his life had ta’en,
She then would send her brother to Rhineland back again.
Her brother’s life straight bade she in his dungeon take.
Off his head was smitten; she bore it by the hair
To the lord of Trony: such sight he well could spare.
Then to remorseless Kriemhild thus the warrior said:—
“E’en to thy wish this business thou to an end hast brought,—
To such an end, moreover, as Hagan ever thought.
Young Giselher and eke Gernot alike with him are sped:
So now, where lies the treasure, none knows save God and me,
And told shall it be never, be sure, she-fiend! to thee.”
At least in my possession I’ll keep my Siegfried’s sword;
My lord and lover bore it, when last I saw him go.
For him woe wrung my bosom, that passed all other woe.”
At once to slay the champion was Kriemhild’s stern intent.
High with both hands she heaved it, and off his head did smite.
That was seen of King Etzel; he shuddered at the sight.
That the hand of a woman the noblest knight should slay
That e’er struck stroke in battle, or ever buckler bore!
Albeit I was his foeman, needs must I sorrow sore.”
In that by her contrivance this noble chief was slain;
Though to sore strait he brought me, let ruin on me light,
But I will take full vengeance for Trony’s murdered knight.”
To the death he smote her as his sword he swung.
Sudden and remorseless he his wrath did wreak:
What could then avail her her fearful thrilling shriek?
There lay, hewn in pieces, the fair and noble queen.
Sir Dietrich and King Etzel, their tears began to start;
For kinsmen and for vassals each sorrowed in his heart.
For this had all the people dole and drearihead.
The feast of royal Etzel was thus shut up in woe.
Pain in the steps of Pleasure treads ever here below.
Save that there was weeping for friends beloved so well;
Knights and squires, dames and damsels, were seen lamenting all.
So here I end my story. This is T