There is probably no poem of German literature that has excited such
universal interest, or that has been so much studied and discussed, as
the "Nibelungenlied". In its present form it is a product of the age
of chivalry, but it reaches back to the earliest epochs of German
antiquity, and embraces not only the pageantry of courtly chivalry,
but also traits of ancient Germanic folklore and probably of Teutonic
mythology. One of its earliest critics fitly called it a German "Iliad",
for, like this great Greek epic, it goes back to the remotest times and
unites the monumental fragments of half-forgotten myths and historical
personages into a poem that is essentially national in character, and
the embodiment of all that is great in the antiquity of the race. Though
lacking to some extent the dignity of the "Iliad", the "Nibelungenlied"
surpasses the former in the deep tragedy which pervades it, the tragedy
of fate, the inevitable retribution for crime, the never-dying struggle
between the powers of good and evil, between light and darkness.
That the poem must have been exceedingly popular during the Middle Ages
is evinced by the great number of Manuscripts that have come down to us.
We possess in all twenty-eight more or less complete MSS., preserved
in thirty-one fragments, fifteen of which date from the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries. Of all these MSS., but nine are so well preserved
that, in spite of some minor breaks, they can be considered complete. Of
this number three, designated respectively as A, B, C, are looked upon
as the most important for purposes of textual criticism, and around them
a fierce battle has been waged, which is not even yet settled. (1) It
is now generally conceded that the longest MS., C, is a later redaction
with many additional strophes, but opinions are divided as to whether
the priority should be given to A or B, the probabilities being that B
is the more original, A merely a careless copy of B.
In spite of the great popularity of the "Nibelungenlied", the poem was
soon forgotten by the mass of the people. With the decay of courtly
chivalry and the rise of the prosperous citizen class, whose ideals and
tastes lay in a different direction, this epic shared the fate of many
others of its kind, and was relegated to the dusty shelves of monastery
or ducal libraries, there to wait till a more cultured age, curious
as to the literature of its ancestors, should bring it forth from
its hiding places. However, the figures of the old legend were not
forgotten, but lived on among the people, and were finally embodied in a
popular ballad, "Das Lied vom Hürnen Seyfrid", which has been preserved
in a print of the sixteenth century, although the poem itself is thought
to go back at least to the thirteenth. The legend was also dramatized by
Hans Sachs, the shoemaker poet of Nuremberg, and related in prose form
in a chap book which still exists in prints of the eighteenth century.
The story and the characters gradually became so vague and distorted,
that only a trained eye could detect in the burlesque figures of the
popular account the heroes of the ancient Germanic Legend.
The honor of rediscovering the "Nibelungenlied" and of restoring it to
the world of literature belongs to a young physician by the name of J.H.
Obereit, who found the manuscript C at the castle of Hohenems in the
Tirol on June 29, 1755; but the scientific study of the poem begins with
Karl Lachmann, one of the keenest philological critics that Germany
has ever produced. In 1816 he read before the University of Berlin
his epoch-making essay upon the original form of the "Nibelungenlied".
Believing that the poem was made up of a number of distinct ballads
or lays, he sought by means of certain criteria to eliminate all parts
which were, as he thought, later interpolations or emendations. As a
result of this sifting and discarding process, he reduced the poem
to what he considered to have been its original form, namely, twenty
separate lays, which he thought had come down to us in practically the
same form in which they had been sung by various minstrels.
This view is no longer held in its original form. Though we have every
reason to believe that ballads of Siegfried the dragon killer, of
Siegfried and Kriemhild, and of the destruction of the Nibelungs existed
in Germany, yet these ballads are no longer to be seen in our poem. They
formed merely the basis or source for some poet who thought to revive
the old heroic legends of the German past which were familiar to his
hearers and to adapt them to the tastes of his time. In all probability
we must assume two, three, or even more steps in the genesis of the
poem. There appear to have been two different sources, one a Low German
account, quite simple and brief, the other a tradition of the Lower
Rhine. The legend was perhaps developed by minstrels along the Rhine,
until it was taken and worked up into its present form by some Austrian
poet. Who this poet was we do not know, but we do know that he was
perfectly familiar with all the details of courtly etiquette. He seems
also to have been acquainted with the courtly epics of Heinrich von
Veldeke and Hartman von Ouwe, but his poem is free from the tedious and
often exaggerated descriptions of pomp, dress, and court ceremonies,
that mar the beauty of even the best of the courtly epics. Many
painstaking attempts have been made to discover the identity of the
writer of our poem, but even the most plausible of all these theories
which considers Kurenberg, one of the earliest of the "Minnesingers",
to be the author, because of the similarity of the strophic form of our
poem to that used by him, is not capable of absolute proof, and
recent investigations go to show that Kurenberg was indebted to
the "Nibelungen" strophe for the form of his lyric, and not the
"Nibelungenlied" to him. The "Nibelungen" strophe is presumably much
older, and, having become popular in Austria through the poem, was
adopted by Kurenberg for his purposes. As to the date of the poem, in
its present form it cannot go back further than about 1190, because of
the exactness of the rhymes, nor could it have been written later
than 1204, because of certain allusions to it in the sixth book of
"Parzival", which we know to have been written at this date. The two
Low German poems which probably form the basis of our epic may have been
united about 1150. It was revised and translated into High German and
circulated at South German courts about 1170, and then received its
present courtly form about 1190, this last version being the immediate
source of our manuscripts.
The story of Siegfried, his tragic death, and the dire vengeance visited
upon his slayers, which lies at the basis of our poem, antedates the
latter by many centuries, and was known to all nations whose languages
prove by their resemblance to the German tongue their original identity
with the German people. Not only along the banks of the Rhine and the
Danube and upon the upland plains of Southern Germany, but also along
the rocky fjords of Norway, among the Angles and Saxons in their new
home across the channel, even in the distant Shetland Islands and on the
snow-covered wastes of Iceland, this story was told around the fires at
night and sung to the harp in the banqueting halls of kings and nobles,
each people and each generation telling it in its own fashion and adding
new elements of its own invention. This great geographical distribution
of the legend, and the variety of forms in which it appears, make it
difficult to know where we must seek its origin. The northern version is
in many respects older and simpler in form than the German, but still it
is probable that Norway was not the home of the saga, but that it took
its rise in Germany along the banks of the Rhine among the ancient
tribe of the Franks, as is shown by the many geographical names that are
reminiscent of the characters of the story, such as a Siegfried "spring"
in the Odenwald, a Hagen "well" at Lorsch, a Brunhild "bed" near
Frankfort, and the well-known "Drachenfels", or Dragon's Rock, on the
Rhine. It is to Norway, however, that we must go for our knowledge
of the story, for, singularly enough, with the exception of the
"Nibelungenlied" and the popular ballad, German literature has preserved
almost no trace of the legend, and such as exist are too late and too
corrupt to be of much use in determining the original features of the
story.
Just when the legend emigrated to Skandinavia we do not know, but
certainly at an early date, perhaps during the opening years of the
sixth century. It may have been introduced by German traders, by slaves
captured by the Northmen on their frequent marauding expeditions, or,
as Mogk believes, may have been taken by the Heruli on their return
to Norway after their defeat by the Langobardi. By whatever channel,
however, the story reached the North, it became part and parcel of
Skandinavian folklore, only certain names still pointing to the original
home of the legend. In the ninth century, when Harald Harfagr changed
the ancient free constitution of the land, many Norwegians emigrated
to Iceland, taking with them these acquired legends, which were better
preserved in this remote island because of the peaceful introduction
of Christianity, than on the Continent, where the Church was more
antagonistic to the customs and legends of the heathen period.
The Skandinavian version of the Siegfried legend has been handed down
to us in five different forms. The first of these is the poetic or
older "Edda", also called Saemund's "Edda", as it was assigned to the
celebrated Icelandic scholar Saemundr Sigfusson. The "Codex Regius", in
which it is preserved, dates from the middle of the thirteenth century,
but is probably a copy of an older manuscript. The songs it contains
were written at various times, the oldest probably in the first half of
the ninth century, the latest not much before the date of the earliest
manuscript. Most of them, however, belong to the Viking period, when
Christianity was already beginning to influence the Norwegians, that
is, between the years 800 and 1000. They are partly heroic, partly
mythological in character, and are written in alliterative strophes
interspersed with prose, and have the form of dialogues. Though the
legends on which these songs are based were brought from Norway, most of
them were probably composed in Iceland. Among these songs, now, we find
a number which deal with the adventures of Siegfried and his tragic end.
The second source of the Siegfried story is the so-called
"Volsungasaga", a prose paraphrase of the "Edda" songs. The MS. dates
from the beginning of the thirteenth century, but the account was
probably written a century earlier. The adventures of Siegfried and his
ancestors are here related in great detail and his ancestry traced back
to Wodan. Although a secondary source, as it is based on the "Edda", the
"Volsungasaga" is nevertheless of great importance, since it supplies a
portion of the "Codex Regius" which has been lost, and thus furnishes us
with the contents of the missing songs.
The third source is the prose "Edda", sometimes called the "Snorra
Edda", after the famous Icelander Snorri Sturluson (1178-1241), to whom
it was ascribed. The author was acquainted with both the poetic "Edda"
and the "Volsungasaga", and follows these accounts closely. The younger
"Edda" is not really a tale, but a book of poetics; it relates, however,
the Siegfried saga briefly. It is considered an original source, since
it evidently made use of songs that have not come down to us, especially
in the account of the origin of the treasure, which is here told more
in detail and with considerable differences. The "Nornagestsaga" or
"Nornageststhattr", the story of "Nornagest", forms the fourth source of
the Siegfried story. It is really a part of the Olaf saga, but contains
the story of Sigurd and Gunnar (the Norse forms of Siegfried and
Gunther), which an old man Nornagest relates to King Olaf Tryggvason,
who converted the Norwegians to Christianity. The story was written
about 1250 to illustrate the transition from heathendom to the Christian
faith. It is based on the "Edda" and the "Volsungasaga", and is
therefore of minor importance as a source.
These four sources represent the early introduction of the Siegfried
legend into Skandinavia. A second introduction took place about the
middle of the thirteenth century, at the time of the flourishing of
the Hanseatic League, when the story was introduced together with other
popular German epics. These poems are products of the age of chivalry,
and are characterized by the romantic and courtly features of this
movement. The one which concerns us here, as the fifth source of the
Siegfried story, is the so-called "Thidreksaga", which celebrates
the adventures of the famous legendary hero, Dietrich of Berne,
the historical Theodorich of Ravenna. In as far as it contains the
adventures of the Nibelungs, it is also called the "Niflungasaga". The
"Thidreksaga" was written about 1250 by a Norwegian who, as he himself
tells us, heard the story from Germans in the neighborhood of Bremen
and Munster. Since it is thus based on Saxon traditions, it can be
considered an independent source of the legend, and, in fact, differs
from the earlier Norse versions in many important details. The author
was acquainted, however, with the older versions, and sought to
compromise between them, but mostly followed his German authorities.
The story, as given in the older Norse versions, is in most respects
more original than in the "Nibelungenlied". It relates the history of
the treasure of the Nibelungs, tracing it back to a giant by the name of
"Hreithmar", who received it from the god "Loki" as a compensation for
the killing of the former's son "Otur", whom Loki had slain in the form
of an otter. Loki obtained the ransom from a dwarf named "Andwari",
who in turn had stolen it from the river gods of the Rhine. Andwari
pronounces a terrible curse upon the treasure and its possessors, and
this curse passes from Loki to the Giant Hreithmar, who is murdered when
asleep by his two sons "Fafnir" and "Regin". The latter, however, is
cheated out of the coveted prize by Fafnir, who carries it away to the
"Gnita" heath, where he guards it in the form of a dragon.
This treasure, with its accompanying curse, next passes into the hands
of a human being named Sigurd (the Norse form of Siegfried, as we have
seen), a descendant of the race of the Volsungs, who trace their history
back to Wodan and are especially favored by him. The full story of
Siegfried's ancestry is far too long to relate here, and does not
especially concern us, as it has little or no influence on the later
development of the story. It is sufficient for our purpose to know that
Siegfried was the son of Siegmund, who was slain in battle before the
birth of his son. Sigurd was carefully reared by his mother "Hjordis"
and the wise dwarf Regin, who taught him the knowledge of runes and
of many languages. (2) At the suggestion of Regin, Sigurd asks for and
receives the steed "Grani" from the king, and is then urged by his tutor
to help him obtain the treasure guarded by the latter's brother Fafnir.
Sigurd promises, but first demands a sword. Two, that are given him by
Regin, prove worthless, and he forges a new one from the pieces of his
father's sword, which his mother had preserved. With this he easily
splits the anvil and cuts in two a flake of wool, floating down the
Rhine. He first avenges the death of his father, and then sets off with
Regin to attack the dragon Fafnir. At the advice of the former Sigurd
digs a ditch across the dragon's peth and pierces him from below with
his sword, as the latter comes down to drink. In dying the dragon warns
Sigurd against the treasure and its curse, and against Regin, who, he
says, is planning Sigurd's death, intending to obtain the treasure for
himself.
When Regin sees the dragon safely dead, he creeps from his place of
concealment, drinks of the blood, and, cutting out the heart, begs
Sigurd to roast it for him. While doing so, Sigurd burns his fingers,
and, putting them in his mouth, understands at once the language of the
birds and hears them say that Sigurd himself should eat the heart and
then he would be wiser than all other men. They also betray Regin's evil
designs, and counsel the lad to kill his tutor. This Sigurd then does,
cutting off Regin's head, drinking the blood of both brothers, and
eating Fafnir's heart. (3) On the further advice of the birds Sigurd
first fetches the treasure from the cave, and then journeys to the
mountain "Hindarfjall", where he rescues the sleeping Valkyrie,
"Sigrdrifa" ("Brynhild", "Brunhild"), who, stung by the sleep thorn
of Wodan, and clad in full armor, lies asleep within a castle that is
surrounded by a wall of flame. With the help of his steed Grani, Sigurd
succeeds in penetrating through the fire to the castle. The sleeping
maiden awakes when he cuts the armor from her with his sword, for it
was as tight as if grown fast to the flesh. She hails her deliverer
with great joy, for she had vowed never to marry a man who knew fear. At
Sigurd's request she teaches him many wise precepts, and finally pledges
her troth to him. He then departs, after promising to be faithful to her
and to remember her teachings.
On his journeyings Sigurd soon arrives at the court of "Giuki" (the
Norse form of the German "Gibicho", "Gibich"), a king whose court lay on
the lower Rhine. Giuki has three sons, "Gunnar", "Hogni", and "Gutthorm",
and a daughter "Gudrun", endowed with great beauty. The queen bears
the name of Grimhild, and is versed in magic, but possessed of an evil
heart. (4) Sigurd is received with great honor, for his coming had been
announced to Gudrun in dreams, which had in part been interpreted to her
by Brynhild. The mother, knowing of Sigurd's relations to the latter,
gives him a potion which produces forgetfulness, so that he no longer
remembers his betrothed, and accepts the hand of Gudrun, which the king
offers him at the queen's request. The marriage is celebrated with
great pomp, and Sigurd remains permanently attached to Giuki's court,
performing with the others many deeds of valor.
Meanwhile Grimhild urges her son Gunnar to sue for the hand of Brynhild.
Taking with him Sigurd and a few others, Gunnar visits first Brynhild's
father "Budli", and then her brother-in-law "Heimir", from both of whom
he learns that she is free to choose whom she will, but that she will
marry no one who has not ridden through the wall of flame. With this
answer they proceed to Brynhild's castle, where Gunnar is unable to
pierce the flames, even when seated on Sigurd's steed. Finally Sigurd
and Gunnar change forms, and Sigurd, disguised as Gunnar, rides through
the wall of fire, announces himself to Brynhild as Gunnar, the son of
Giuki, and reminds her of her promise to marry the one who penetrated
the fire. Brynhild consents with great reluctance, for she is busy
carrying on a war with a neighboring king. Sigurd then passes three
nights at her side, placing, however, his sword Gram between them, as
a bar of separation. At parting he draws from her finger the ring, with
which he had originally pledged his troth to her, and replaces it with
another, taken from Fafnir's hoard. Soon after this the marriage of
Gunnar and Brynhild is celebrated with great splendor, and all return to
Giuki's court, where they live happily for some time.
One day, however, when the ladies go down to the river to take a bath,
Brynhild will not bathe further down stream than Gudrun, that is, in the
water which flows from Gudrun to her, (5) giving as the reason, that her
father was mightier and her husband braver, since he had ridden through
the fire, while Sigurd had been a menial. Stung at this, Gudrun retorts
that not Gunnar but Sigurd had penetrated the flames and had taken from
her the fateful ring "Andvaranaut", which she then shows to her rival in
proof of her assertion. Brynhild turns deathly pale, but answers not
a word. After a second conversation on the subject had increased the
hatred of the queens, Brynhild plans vengeance. Pretending to be ill,
she takes to her bed, and when Gunnar inquires what ails her, she asks
him if he remembers the circumstances of the wooing and that not he but
Sigurd had penetrated the flames. She attempts to take Gunnar's life, as
she had pledged her troth to Sigurd, and is thereupon placed in chains
by Hogni. Seven days she sleeps, and no one dares to wake her. Finally
Sigurd succeeds in making her talk, and she tells him how cruelly she
has been deceived, that the better man had been destined for her, but
that she had received the poorer one. This Sigurd denies, for Giuki's
son had killed the king of the Danes and also Budli's brother, a great
warrior. Moreover, although he, Sigurd, had ridden through the flames,
he had not become her husband. He begs her therefore not to harbor a
grudge against Gunnar.
Brynhild remains unconvinced, and plans Sigurd's death, and threatens
Gunnar with the loss of dominion and life, if he will not kill Sigurd.
After some hesitation, Gunnar consents, and, calling Hogni, informs
him that he must kill Sigurd, in order to obtain the treasure of the
Rhinegold. Hogni warns him against breaking his oath to Sigurd, when it
occurs to Gunnar, that his brother Gutthorm had sworn no oath and might
do the deed. Both now proceed to excite the latter's greed, and give him
wolf's and snake meat to eat to make him savage. Twice Gutthorm makes
the attempt, as Sigurd lies in bed, but is deterred by the latter's
penetrating glance. The third time he finds Sigurd asleep, and pierces
him with his sword. Sigurd, awakening at the pain, hurls his own sword
after his murderer, fairly cutting him in two. He then dies, protesting
his innocence and designating Brynhild as the instigator of his murder.
Brynhild at first laughs aloud at Gudrun's frantic grief, but later her
joy turns into sorrow, and she determines to share Sigurd's death. In
vain they try to dissuade her; donning her gold corselet, she pierces
herself with a sword and begs to be burned on Sigurd's funeral pyre. In
dying she prophesies the future, telling of Gudrun's marriage to "Atli"
and of the death of the many men which will be caused thereby.
After Brynhild's death Gudrun in her sorrow flees to the court of King
"Half" of Denmark, where she remains seven years. Finally Grimhild
learns of the place of her daughter's concealment, and tries to bring
about a reconciliation with Gunnar and Hogni. They offer her much
treasure, if she will marry Atli. At first she refuses and thinks only
of revenge, but finally she consents and the marriage is celebrated in
Atli's land. After a time Atli, who is envious of Gunnar's riches, for
the latter had taken possession of Sigurd's hoard, invites him to his
court. A man named "Vingi", who was sent with the invitation, changes
the runes of warning, which Gudrun had given him, so that they, too,
read as an invitation. The brothers determine to accept the invitation,
and, though warned by many dreams, they set out for Atli's court, which
they reach in due time. Vingi now breaks forth into exultations, that he
has lured them into a snare, and is slain by Hogni with a battle axe.
As they ride to the king's hall, Atli and his sons arm themselves for
battle, and demand Sigurd's treasure, which belongs by right to Gudrun.
Gunnar refuses to surrender it, and the fight begins, after some
exchange of taunting words. Gudrun tries at first to reconcile the
combatants, but, failing, arms herself and fights on the side of her
brothers. The battle rages furiously with great loss on both sides,
until nearly all of the Nibelungs are killed, when Gunnar and Hogni
are forced to yield to the power of numbers and are captured and bound.
Gunnar is asked, if he will purchase his life with the treasure. He
replies that he first wishes to see Hogni's bleeding heart. At first the
heart of a slave is cut out and brought to him, but Gunnar recognizes it
at once as that of a coward. Then they cut out Hogni's heart, who laughs
at the pain. This Gunnar sees is the right one, and is jubilant, for now
Atli shall never obtain the treasure, as Gunnar alone knows where it is
hid. In a rage Atli orders Gunnar to be thrown to the snakes. Though
his hands are bound, Gunnar plays so sweetly with his toes on the harp,
which Gudrun has sent him, that all the snakes are lulled to sleep, with
the exception of an adder, which stings him to the heart, so that he
dies.
Atli now walks triumphantly over the dead bodies, and remarks to Gudrun
that she alone is to blame for what has happened. She refuses his offers
of peace and reconciliation, and towards evening kills her two sons
"Erp" and "Eitil", and serves them at the banquet, which the king gives
for his retainers. When Atli asks for his sons, he is told that he had
drunk their blood mixed with wine and had eaten their hearts. That night
when Atli is asleep, Gudrun takes Hogni's son "Hniflung", who desires
to avenge his father, and together they enter Atli's room and thrust a
sword through his breast. Atli awakes from the pain, only to be told
by Gudrun that she is his murderess. When he reproaches her with thus
killing her husband, she answers that she cared only for Sigurd. Atli
now asks for a fitting burial, and on receiving the promise of this,
expires. Gudrun carries out her promise, and burns the castle with
Atli and all his dead retainers. Other Edda songs relate the further
adventures of Gudrun, but they do not concern us here, as the
"Nibelungenlied" stops with the death of the Nibelungs.
This in brief is the story of Siegfried, as it has been handed down to
us in the Skandinavian sources. It is universally acknowledged that
this version, though more original than the German tradition, does not
represent the simplest and most original form of the tale; but what the
original form was, has long been and still is a matter of dispute. Two
distinctly opposite views are held, the one seeing in the story the
personification of the forces of nature, the other, scouting the
possibility of a mythological interpretation, seeks a purely human
origin for the tale, namely, a quarrel among relatives for the
possession of treasure. The former view is the older, and obtained
almost exclusively at one time. The latter has been gaining ground of
recent years, and is held by many of the younger students of the legend.
According to the mythological view, the maiden slumbering upon the
lonely heights is the sun, the wall of flames surrounding her the
morning red ("Morgenrote"). Siegfried is the youthful day who is
destined to rouse the sun from her slumber. At the appointed time he
ascends, and before his splendor the morning red disappears. He awakens
the maiden; radiantly the sun rises from its couch and joyously greets
the world of nature. But light and shade are indissolubly connected; day
changes of itself into night. When at evening the sun sinks to rest
and surrounds herself once more with a wall of flames, the day again
approaches, but no longer in the youthful form of the morning to arouse
her from her slumber, but in the sombre shape of Gunther, to rest at her
side. Day has turned into night; this is the meaning of the change of
forms. The wall of flame vanishes, day and sun descend into the realm of
darkness. Under this aspect the Siegfried story is a day myth; but under
another it is a myth of the year. The dragon is the symbol of winter,
the dwarfs of darkness. Siegfried denotes the bright summer, his sword
the sunbeams. The youthful year grows up in the dark days of winder.
When its time has come, it goes forth triumphantly and destroys
the darkness and the cold of winter. Through the symbolization the
abstractions gain form and become persons; the saga is thus not a mere
allegory, but a personification of nature's forces. The treasure may
have entered the saga through the widespread idea of the dragon as the
guardian of treasure, or it may represent the beauty of nature which
unfolds when the season has conquered. In the last act of the saga,
Siegfried's death, Wilmanns, the best exponent of this view, sees again
a symbolic representation of a process of nature. According to him it
signifies the death of the god of the year in winter. In the spring he
kills the dragon, in the winter he goes weary to his rest and is foully
slain by the hostile powers of darkness. Later, when this act was
connected with the story of Gunther's wooing Brunhild, the real meaning
was forgotten, and Siegfried's death was attributed to the grief and
jealousy of the insulted queen.
Opposed now to the mythological interpretation is the other view already
spoken of, which denies the possibility of mythological features, and
does not seek to trace the legend beyond the heroic stage. The best
exponent of this view is R. C. Boer, who has made a remarkable attempt
to resolve the story into its simplest constituents. According to him
the nucleus of the legend is an old story of the murder of relatives
("Verwandienmord"), the original form being perhaps as follows. Attila
(i.e., the enemy of Hagen under any name) is married to Hagen's sister
Grimhild or Gudrun. He invites his brother-in-law to his house, attacks
him in the hope of obtaining his treasure, and kills him. According
to this view Hagen was originally the king, but later sinks to a
subordinate position through the subsequent connection of the story with
the Burgundians. It is of course useless to hunt for the date of such
an episode in history. Such a murder could have frequently occurred, and
can be localized anywhere. Very early we find this Hagen story united
with the Siegfried legend. If the latter is mythological, then we have
a heterogeneous combination, a mythical legend grafted on a purely human
one. This Boer thinks unlikely, and presents a number of arguments to
disprove the mythical character of the Siegfried story, into which
we cannot enter here. He comes, however, to the conclusion, that the
Siegfried tale is likewise purely human, and consisted originally of the
murder of relatives, that is, a repetition of the Hagen title. Siegfried
is married to Hagen's sister, and is killed by his brother-in-law
because of his treasure. The kernel of the legend is, therefore, the
enmity between relatives, which exists in two forms, the one in which
the son-in-law kills his father-in-law, as in the "Helgi" saga, the
other in which Hagen kills his son-in-law and is killed by him, too, as
in the "Hilde" saga. The German tradition tries to combine the two by
introducing the new feature, that Kriemhild causes the death of her
relatives, in order to avenge her first husband. Boer is of the opinion
that both the Norse and the German versions have forgotten the original
connection between the two stories, and that this connection was nothing
more nor less than the common motive of the treasure. The same treasure,
which causes Hagen to murder Siegfried, causes his own death in turn
through the greed of Attila. There was originally, according to Boer, no
question of revenge, except the revenge of fate, the retribution which
overtakes the criminal. This feeling for the irony of fate was lost
when the motive, that Hagen kills Siegfried because of his treasure,
was replaced by the one that he does it at the request of Brunhild. This
leads Boer to the conclusion, that Brunhild did not originally belong to
the Siegfried story, but to the well-known fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty
("Erlosungsmurchen"), which occurs in a variety of forms. The type is
that of a hero who rescues a maiden from a magic charm, which may take
the form of a deep sleep, as in the case of Sleeping Beauty, or of being
sewed into a garment, as in No. 111 of Grimm's fairy tales. By the union
of the two stories, i.e., the Hagen-Siegfried saga with the Sleeping
Beauty tale, Siegfried stands in relation to two women; on the one hand
his relation to Sigrdrifa-Brynhild, the maiden whom he rescues on the
rock, on the other his marriage with Grimhild-Gudrun and his consequent
death. This twofold relation had to be disposed of, and since his
connection with Grimhild was decisive for his fate, his relation to
Brunhild had to be changed. It could not be entirely ignored, for it
was too well known, therefore it was given a different interpretation.
Siegfried still rescues a maiden from the rock, not for himself,
however, but for another. The exchange of forms on the part of
Siegfried and Gunther is a reminiscence of the older form. It gives the
impression, that Siegfried, and yet not Siegfried, won the bride. This
alteration probably took place when the Burgundians were introduced into
the legend. With this introduction an unlocalized saga of unknown heroes
of ancient times became one of events of world-wide importance; the fall
of a mighty race was depicted as the result of Siegfried's death. To
render this plausible, it was necessary on the one hand to idealize
the hero, so that his death should appear as a deed of horror demanding
fearful vengeance, and on the other, to make the king of the Burgundians
an active participator in Siegfried's death, for otherwise it would not
seem natural, that the whole race should be exterminated for a crime
committed by the king's brother or vassal. As the role of Brunhild's
husband had become vacant, and as Gunther had no special role, it was
natural that it should be given to him. Boer traces very ingeniously
the gradual development of this exchange of roles through the various
sources.
Another method of explaining away Siegfried's relation to two women is
to identify them, and this has been done by the Seyfrid ballad. Here the
hero rescues Kriemhild from the power of the dragon, marries her,
and then is later killed by her brothers through envy and hatred. As
Brunhild and Kriemhild are here united in one person, there is no need
of a wooing for the king, nor of vengeance on the part of Brunhild,
accordingly the old motive of greed (here envy) reappears.
As to the fight with the dragon, Boer believes that it did not
originally belong to the saga, for in none of the sources except the
popular ballad is the fight with the dragon connected with the release
of Brunhild. If the Siegfried-Hagen story is purely human, then the
dragon cannot have originally belonged to it, but was later introduced,
because of the widespread belief in the dragon as the guardian of
treasure, and in order to answer the question as to the provenience of
the hoard. This is, however, only one answer to the question. Another,
widespread in German legends, is that the treasure comes from the
Nibelungs, that is, from the dwarfs. Many identify the dwarfs and the
dragon, but this finds no support in the sources, for here the dwarfs
and Fafnir are never confused. The "Nibelungenlied" describes an
adventure with each, but the treasure is only connected with the dwarfs.
The "Thidreksaga" knows only the dragon fight but not the dwarfs, as is
likewise the case with the Seyfrid ballad. Only in the Norse sources
do we find a contamination. The story of Hreithmar and his sons, who
quarrel about the treasure, resembles that of Schilbung and Nibelung in
the "Nibelungenlied", and probably has the same source. One of the sons,
because of his guarding the treasure, is identified with the dragon,
and so we read that Fafnir becomes a dragon, after gaining the treasure.
Originally, however, he was not a dragon, but a dwarf. These two
independent forms can be geographically localized. The dwarf legend is
the more southern; it is told in detail in the "Nibelungenlied". The
dragon legend probably originated in the Cimbrian peninsula, where the
"Beowulf" saga, in which the dragon fight plays such an important part,
likewise arose.
There thus stand sharply opposed to each other two theories, one seeing
in the Siegfried saga a personification of natural forces, the other
tracing it back to a purely human story of murder through greed. It may
be, that the true form of the original saga lies half way between
these two views. The story of the fall of the Nibelungs, that is, their
killing at Etzel's court, may go back to the tale of the murder of
relatives for money. On the other hand it is hard to believe that the
Siegfried saga is nothing but a repetition of the Attila motive, for
this is too brief a formula to which to reduce the long legend of
Siegfried, with its many deeds. Even if we discard the mythological
interpretation, it is the tale of a daring hero, who is brought up in
the woods by a cunning dwarf. He kills a dragon and takes possession of
his hoard, then rescues a maiden, imprisoned upon a mountain, as in the
older Norse version and the popular ballad, or in a tower, as in the
"Thidreksaga", and surrounded either by a wall of fire, as in the
Norse, or by a large body of water, as in the "Nibelungenlied". After
betrothing himself to the maiden, he sets forth in search of further
adventures, and falls into the power of an evil race, who by their
magic arts lure him to them, cause his destruction, and then obtain
his treasure and the maiden for themselves. By her very name Sigrdrifa
belongs to Siegfried, just as Gunther and Gudrun-Grimhild belong
together, and it seems hardly possible that she should have entered the
story later, as Boer would have us believe. After all, it is largely a
matter of belief, for it is impossible to prove positively that mythical
elements did or did not exist in the original.
To the combined Siegfried-Nibelung story various historical elements
were added during the fifth century. At the beginning of this period the
Franks were located on the left bank of the Rhine from Coblenz downward.
Further up the river, that is, to the south, the Burgundians had
established a kingdom in what is now the Rhenish Palatinate, their
capital being Worms and their king "Gundahar", or "Gundicarius", as the
Romans called him. For twenty years the Burgundians lived on good terms
with the surrounding nations. Then, growing bolder, they suddenly
rose against the Romans in the year 436, but the rebellion was quietly
suppressed by the Roman general Aetius. Though defeated, the Burgundians
were not subdued, and the very next year they broke their oaths and
again sought to throw off the Roman yoke. This time the Romans called to
their aid the hordes of Huns, who had been growing rapidly in power and
were already pressing hard upon the German nations from the east. Only
too glad for an excuse, the Huns poured into the land in great numbers
and practically swept the Burgundian people from the face of the earth.
According to the Roman historians, twenty thousand Burgundians were
slain in this great battle of the Catalaunian Fields. Naturally this
catastrophe, in which a whole German nation fell before the hordes of
invading barbarians, produced a profound impression upon the Teutonic
world. The King Gundahar, the Gunther of the "Nibelungenlied", who also
fell in the battle, became the central figure of a new legend, namely,
the story of the fall of the Burgundians.
Attila is not thought to have taken part in the invasion, still, after
his death in 454, his name gradually came to be associated with the
slaughter of the Burgundians, for a legend operates mainly with types,
and as Attila was a Hun and throughout the Middle Ages was looked upon
as the type of a cruel tyrant, greedy for conquest, it was but natural
for him to play the rôle assigned to him in the legend. Quite plausible
is Boer's explanation of the entrance of Attila into the legend. The
"Thidreksaga" locates him in Seest in Westphalia. Now this province once
bore the name of "Hunaland", and by a natural confusion, because of
the similarity of the names, "Huna" and "Huns", Attila, who is the
chief representative of Hunnish power, was connected with the legend
and located at Seest. This would show that the original extension of the
legend was slight, as Xanten, the home of Hagen, is but seventy miles
from Seest. The original form would then be that Hagen was slain by a
king of "Hunaland", then because history relates that the Burgundians
were slain by the Huns, the similarity of the names led to the
introduction of Attila and the identification of the Nibelungs with the
Burgundians. The fact, too, that the Franks rapidly took possession
of the district depopulated by the crushing defeat of the Burgundians
likewise aided the confusion, and thus the Franks became the natural
heirs of the legend concerning the death of Gunther, and so we read of
the fall of the Nibelungs, a name that is wholly Frankish in character.
This identification led also to Attila's being considered the avenger of
Siegfried's death. Poetic justice, however, demands that the slaughter
of the Burgundians at the hands of Attila be also avenged. The rumor,
that Attila's death was not natural, but that he had been murdered by
his wife Ildico ("Hildiko"), gave the necessary features to round out
the story. As Kriemhild was the sister of the Burgundian kings, it was
but natural to explain her killing of Attila, as described in the Norse
versions, by her desire to avenge her brothers.
In our "Nibelungenlied", however, it is no longer Attila, but Kriemhild,
who is the central figure of the tragedy. Etzel, as he is called here,
has sunk to the insignificant role of a stage king, a perfectly passive
observer of the fight raging around him. This change was brought about
perhaps by the introduction of Dietrich of Berne, the most imposing
figure of all Germanic heroic lore. The necessity of providing him
with a role corresponding to his importance, coupled with a growing
repugnance on the part of the proud Franks to acknowledge defeat at the
hands of the Huns, caused the person of Attila to dwindle in importance.
Gradually, too, the role played by Kriemhild was totally changed.
Instead of being the avenger of her brothers, as depicted in the Norse
versions, she herself becomes the cause of their destruction. Etzel
is not only innocent of any desire to harm the Nibelungs, but is even
ignorant of the revenge planned by his wife. This change in her role was
probably due to the feeling that it was incumbent upon her to avenge the
murder of Siegfried.
Our "Nibelungenlied" knows but little of the adventures of Siegfried's
youth as depicted in the Norse versions. The theme of the poem is no
longer the love of Sigurd, the homeless wanderer, for the majestic
Valkyrie Brunhild, but the love idyll of Siegfried, the son of the king
of the Netherlands, and the dainty Burgundian princess Kriemhild.
The poem has forgotten Siegfried's connection with Brunhild; it knows
nothing of his penetrating the wall of flames to awake and rescue her,
nothing of the betrothal of the two. In our poem Siegfried is carefully
reared at his father's court in the Netherlands, and sets out with great
pomp for the court of the Burgundians. In the Norse version he naturally
remains at Gunther's court after his marriage, but in our poem he
returns to the Netherlands with his bride. This necessitates the
introduction of several new scenes to depict his arrival home, the
invitation to the feast at Worms, and the reception of the guests on the
part of the Burgundians.
In the "Nibelungenlied" the athletic sports, as an obstacle to the
winning of Brunhild, take the place of the wall of flames of the older
Norse versions. Siegfried and Gunther no longer change forms, but
Siegfried dons the "Tarnkappe", which renders him invisible, so that
while Gunther makes the motions, Siegfried really does the work, a thing
which is rather difficult to imagine. The quarrel of the two queens is
likewise very differently depicted in the "Nibelungenlied" from what it
is in the Norse version. In the latter it takes place while the
ladies are bathing in the river, and is brought on by the arrogance of
Brunhild, who refuses to stand lower down the stream and bathe in the
water flowing from Gudrun to her. In the "Thidreksaga" it occurs in the
seclusion of the ladies' apartments, but in our poem it culminates in
front of the cathedral before the assembled court, and requires as its
background all the pomp and splendor of medieval chivalry. With a master
hand and a wonderful knowledge of female character, the author depicts
the gradual progress of the quarrel until it terminates in a magnificent
scene of wounded pride and malignant hatred. Kriemhild, as usual, plays
the more important part, and, while standing up for her rights, tries in
every way to conciliate Brunhild and not to hurt her feelings. At
last, however, stung by the taunts of the latter, she in turn loses her
patience, bursts out with the whole story of the twofold deception to
which Brunhild has been subjected, and then triumphantly sweeps into
the church, leaving her rival stunned and humiliated by the news she
has heard. In the Norse tradition the scene serves merely to enlighten
Brunhild as to the deception played upon her. In the "Nibelungenlied" it
becomes the real cause of Siegfried's death, for Brunhild plans to kill
Siegfried to avenge the public slight done to her. She has no other
reason, as Siegfried swears that there had been no deception. Brunhild
appeals to us much less in the "Nibelungenlied" than in the Norse
version. In the latter she feels herself deeply wronged by Siegfried's
faithlessness, and resolves on his death because she will not be the
wife of two men. In our poem she has no reason for wishing his death
except her wounded pride. In the "Nibelungenlied", too, she disappears
from view after Siegfried's death, whereas in the Norse tradition she
ascends his funeral pyre and dies at his side.
The circumstances of Siegfried's death are likewise totally different
in the two versions. In the Norse, as we have seen, he is murdered while
asleep in bed, by Gunnar's younger brother Gutthorm. In our poem he is
killed by Hagen, while bending over a spring to drink. This is preceded
by a scene in which Hagen treacherously induces Kriemhild to mark the
one vulnerable spot on Siegfried's body, on the plea of protecting
him. This deepens the tragedy, and renders Kriemhild's misery and
self-reproaches the greater. After Siegfried's burial his father,
who had also come to Worms with his son, vainly endeavors to persuade
Kriemhild to return with him to the Netherlands. Her refusal is
unnatural in the extreme, for she had reigned there ten years or
more with Siegfried, and had left her little son behind, and yet she
relinquishes all this and remains with her brothers, whom she knows to
be the murderers of her husband. This is evidently a reminiscence of
an earlier form in which Siegfried was a homeless adventurer, as in the
"Thidreksaga".
The second half of the tale, the destruction of the Nibelungs,
is treated of very briefly in the early Norse versions, but the
"Nibelungenlied", which knows so little of Siegfried's youth, has
developed and enlarged upon the story, until it overshadows the first
part in length and importance and gives the name to the whole poem.
The main difference between the two versions is that in the older
Norse tradition it is Attila who invites the Nibelungs to his court and
attacks them in order to gain possession of the treasure, while Gudrun
(Kriemhild) first tries to reconcile the warring parties, and, not
succeeding in this, snatches up a sword and fights on the side of
her brothers and later kills her husband as an act of revenge. In the
"Thidreksaga" and the "Nibelungenlied", however, she is the instigator
of the fight and the cause of her brothers' death, and finally suffers
death herself at the hands of Master Hildebrand, who is furious that
such noble heroes should fall at a woman's hand. The second part of
the poem is grewsome reading at best, with its weltering corpses and
torrents of blood. The horror is relieved only by the grim humor of
Hagen and by the charming scene at Rudeger's court, where the young
prince Giselher is betrothed to Rudeger's daughter. Rudeger is without
doubt the most tragic figure of this part. He is bound on the one hand
by his oath of allegiance to Kriemhild and on the other by ties of
friendship to the Burgundians. His agony of mind at the dilemma in which
Kriemhild's command to attack the Burgundians places him is pitiful.
Divided between love and duty, the conviction that he must fulfill his
vow, cost what it may, gradually forces itself upon him and he rushes to
his death in combat with his dearest friends.
Towering above all others in its gloomy grandeur stands the figure of
Hagen, the real hero of the second half of the poem. Fully aware that
he is going to his death, he nevertheless scorns to desert his
companions-in-arms, and awaits the fate in store for him with a stoicism
that would do honor to a Spartan. He calmly accepts the consequences of
his crime, and to the last mocks and scoffs at Kriemhild, until her fury
knows no bounds. No character shows so little the refining influences of
Christianity as does his. In all essential respects he is still the same
old gigantic Teuton, who meets us in the earliest forms of the legend.
As to the various minor characters, many of which appear only in the
"Nibelungenlied", space will not permit of their discussion here,
although they will be treated of briefly in the notes. Suffice it to
say, that the "Nibelungenlied" has introduced a number of effective
scenes for the purpose of bringing some of them, especially Folker and
Dankwart, into prominence. Among the best of these are, first, the night
watch, when Folker first plays the Burgundians to sleep with his violin,
and then stands guard with Hagen, thus preventing the surprise planned
by Kriemhild; further, the visit to the church on the following morning,
when the men of both parties clash; and lastly the tournament between
the Huns and the Burgundians, which gives the author an excellent chance
to show the prowess of the various heroes.
Let us pass now to the consideration of the strophic form of the
"Nibelungenlied". The two Danish ballads of "Grimhild's Revenge"
("Grimhild's Haevn"), which are based upon the first combination of
the Low German, i.e., Saxon, and the Rhenish traditions, prove that the
strophe is considerably older than the preserved redactions of our poem,
and that it was probably of Saxon origin. The metrical form goes back
most probably to the four-accented verse of the poet Otfrid of the ninth
century, although some have thought that Latin hymns, others that the
French epic verse, may have been of influence. The direct derivation
from Otfrid seems, however, the most plausible, as it accounts for the
importance of the caesura, which generally marks a pause in the
sense, as well as in the verse, and also for its masculine ending. The
"Nibelungen" strophe consists of four long lines separated by a caesura
into two distinct halves. The first half of each line contains four
accents, the fourth falling upon the last syllable. This last stress,
however, is not, as a rule as strong as the others, the effect being
somewhat like that of a feminine ending. On this account some speak of
three accents in the first half line, with a feminine ending. The fourth
stress is, however, too strong to be thus disregarded, but because of
its lighter character is best marked with a grave accent. The second
half of each line ends in a masculine rhyme. The first three lines have
each three stresses in the second half, while the second half of the
fourth line has four accents to mark the end of the strophe. This
longer fourth line is one of the most marked characteristics of the
"Nibelungen" strophe. The rhymes are arranged in the order of "a", "a",
"b", "b", though in a few isolated cases near the end of the poem but
one rhyme is used throughout the strophe.
The opening lines of the poem may serve to illustrate the strophic form
and scansion, and at the same time will give the reader an idea of the
Middle High German language in which the poem is written:
Uns ist in alten maeren wunders vil geseit
von heleden lobebaeron, von grozer arebeit,
von froude und hochgeziten, von weinen und von klagen,
von kuener recken striten muget ir nu wunder hoeren sagen.
Ez wuochs in Burgonden ein edel magedin,
daz in allen landen niht schoeners mohte sin,
Kriemhild geheizen; si wart ein scoene wip,
darambe muosen degene vil verliesen den lip.
Der minneclichen meide triuten wol gezam,
ir muotten kuene recken, niemen was ir gram,
ane ma zen schoene so was ir edel lip;
der iunevrouwen tugende zierten anderiu wip.
Ir pflagen drie künege edel unde rich,
Gunther unde Gernot, die recken lobelich,
und Giselher der iunge, ein uz erwelter degen,
diu frouwe was ir swester, die fu'rsten hetens in ir
pflegen.
Die herren waren milte, von arde hohe erborn,
mit kraft unmazen kuene, die recken uz erkorn,
dazen Burgonden so was ir lant genant,
si framden starkiu wunder sit in Etzelen lant.
Ze Wormze bidem Rine si wenden mit ir kraft,
in diende von ir landen stolziu ritterscaft
mit lobelichen eren unz an ir endes zit,
sit sturben si inemerliche von zweier edelen frouwen nit.
Some of the final rhymes with proper names, such as "Hagene": "degene"
(str. 84) or "Hagene": "tragene" (str. 300) appear to be feminine, but
it is really the final "e" that rhymes, and a scansion of the line in
question shows that the three accents are not complete without this
final "e". In this respect our poem differs from most of the Middle High
German poems, as this practice of using the final "e" in rhyme began to
die out in the twelfth century, though occasionally found throughout the
period. The rhymes are, as a rule, quite exact, the few cases of impure
rhymes being mainly those in which short and long vowels are rhymed
together, e.g. "mich": "rich" or "man": "han". Caesural rhymes are
frequently met with, and were considered by Lachmann to be the marks of
interpolated strophes, a view no longer held. A further peculiarity
of the "Nibelungen" strophe is the frequent omission of the unaccented
syllable in the second half of the last line of the strophe between the
second and third stresses. Examples of this will be found in the second,
third, and fifth strophes of the passage given above.
The language of the "Nibelungenlied" is the so-called Middle High
German, that is, the High German written and spoken in the period
between 1100 and 1500, the language of the great romances of chivalry
and of the "Minnesingers". More exactly, the poem is written in the
Austrian dialect of the close of the twelfth century, but contains many
archaisms, which point to the fact of its having undergone a number of
revisions.
In closing this brief study of the "Nibelungenlied", just a word or
two further with reference to the poem, its character, and its place in
German literature. Its theme is the ancient Teutonic ideal of "Treue"
(faithfulness or fidelity), which has found here its most magnificent
portrayal; faithfulness unto death, the loyalty of the vassal for his
lord, as depicted in Hagen, the fidelity of the wife for her husband,
as shown by Kriemhild, carried out with unhesitating consistency to the
bitter end. This is not the gallantry of medieval chivalry, which colors
so largely the opening scenes of the poem, but the heroic valor, the
death-despising stoicism of the ancient Germans, before which the
masters of the world, the all-conquering Romans, were compelled to bow.
In so far as the "Nibelungenlied" has forgotten most of the history of
the youthful Siegfried, and knows nothing of his love for Brunhild, it
is a torso, but so grand withal, that one hardly regrets the loss of
these integral elements of the old saga. As it is a working over of
originally separate lays, it is not entirely homogeneous, and contains
not a few contradictions. In spite of these faults, however, which a
close study reveals, it is nevertheless the grandest product of Middle
High German epic poetry, and deservedly the most popular poem of older
German literature. It lacks, to be sure, the grace of diction found in
Gottfried von Strassburg's "Tristan und Isolde", the detailed and often
magnificent descriptions of armor and dress to be met with in the epics
of Hartman von Ouwe; it is wanting in the lofty philosophy of Wolfram
von Eschenbach's "Parzival", and does not, as this latter, lead the
reader into the realms of religious doubts and struggles. It is imposing
through its very simplicity, through the grandeur of the story, which
it does not seek to adorn and decorate. It nowhere pauses to analyze
motives nor to give us a picture of inner conflict as modern authors are
fond of doing. Its characters are impulsive and prompt in action, and
when they have once acted, waste no time in useless regret or remorse.
It resembles the older "Spielmannsdichtung", or minstrel poetry, in the
terseness and vigor of its language and in the lack of poetic imagery,
but it is free from the coarseness and vulgar and grotesque humor of the
latter. It approaches the courtly epic in its introduction of the pomp
of courtly ceremonial, but this veneer of chivalry is very thin, and
beneath the outward polish of form the heart beats as passionately and
wildly as in the days of Herman, the Cheruscan chief. There are perhaps
greater poems in literature than the "Nibelungenlied", but few so
majestic in conception, so sublime in their tragedy, so simple in their
execution, and so national in their character, as this great popular
epic of German literature.
ENDNOTES:
(1) A is a parchment MS. of the second half of the thirteenth
century, now found in Munich. It forms the basis of
Lachmann's edition. It is a parchment MS. of the middle of
the thirteenth century, belonging to the monastery of St.
Gall. It has been edited by Bartsch, "Deutsche Klassiker
des Mittelalters", vol. 3, and by Piper, "Deutsche National-
Literatur", vol. 6. C is a parchment MS., of the thirteenth
century, now in the ducal library of Donauesehingen. It is
the best written of all the MSS., and has been edited by
Zarncke.
(2) The "Thidreksaga" differs from the other Norse versions in
having "Sigfrod", as he is called here, brought up in
ignorance of his parents, a trait which was probably
borrowed from the widespread "Genoveva" story, although
thought by some to have been an original feature of our
legend.
(3) The "Thidreksaga", which has forgotten the enmity of the
brothers, and calls Sigurd's tutor "Mimr", tells the episode
in somewhat different fashion. The brothers plan to kill
Sigurd, and the latter is attacked by the dragon, while
burning charcoal in the forest. After killing the monster
with a firebrand, Sigurd bathes himself in the blood and
thus become covered with a horny skin, which renders him
invulnerable, save in one place between the shoulder blades,
which he could not reach. This bathing in the blood is also
related in the Seyfrid ballad and in the "Nibelungenlied",
with the difference, that the vulnerable spot is caused by a
linden leaf falling upon him.
(4) The fact that all but one of these names alliterate, shows
that the Norse version is here more original. Gunnar is the
same as Gunther (Gundaharius), Hogni as Hagen; Gutthorm
(Godomar) appears in the German version as Gernot. In this
latter the father is called Dancrat, the mother Uote, and
the name Grimhild is transferred from the mother to the
daughter.
(5) In the prose "Edda", in the water which drips from Gudrun's
hair.