Quoth the margrave: "Inly doth this grieve me."

"Now God requite you, for the gift, most noble Rudeger. Howso these

high-born warriors deport them toward you, my hand shall never touch you

in the fight, and ye slew them all from the Burgundian land."

Courteously the good Sir Rudeger bowed him low. On every side they wept,

that none might soothe this pain of heart. That was a mighty grief. In

Rudeger would die the father of all knightly virtues.

Then Folker, the minstrel, spake from out the hall: "Sith my comrade

Hagen hath made his peace with you, ye shall have it just as steadfastly

from my hand, for well ye earned it, when we came into this land. Most

noble margrave, ye shall be mine envoy, too. The margravine gave me

these ruddy arm rings, that I should wear them here at the feasting.

These ye may yourself behold, that ye may later be my witness."

"Now God of heaven grant," spake Rudeger, "that the margravine may give

you more! I'll gladly tell these tales to my dear love, if I see her in

health again. Of this ye shall not doubt."

When he had vowed him this, Rudeger raised high his shield. No longer

he bided, but with raging mood, like a berserker, he rushed upon the

guests. Many a furious blow the noble margrave struck. The twain, Folker

and Hagen, stepped further back, as they had vowed to him afore. Still

he found standing by the tower such valiant men, that Rudeger began the

fight with anxious doubts. With murderous intent Gunther and Gernot let

him in, good heroes they! Giselher stood further back, which irked him

sore, in truth. He voided Rudeger, for still he had hope of life. Then

the margrave's men rushed at their foes; in knightly wise one saw them

follow their lord. In their hands they bare their keen-edged swords,

the which cleft there many a helm and lordly shield. The tired warriors

dealt the men of Bechelaren many a mighty blow, that cut smooth and deep

through the shining mail, down to the very quick.

Rudeger's noble fellowship was now come quite within. Into the fight

Folker and Hagen sprang anon. They gave no quarter, save to one man

alone. Through the hands of the twain the blood streamed down from

the helmets. How grimly rang the many swords within! The shield plates

sprang from their fastenings, and the precious stones, cut from the

shields, fell down into the gore. So grimly they fought, that men will

never do the like again. The lord of Bechelaren raged to and fro, as

one who wotteth how to use great prowess in the fray. Passing like to

a worshipful champion and a bold did Rudeger bear him on that day. Here

stood the warriors, Gunther and Gernot, and smote many a hero dead in

the fray. Giselher and Dankwart, the twain, recked so little, that

they brought full many a knight to his last day of life. Full well did

Rudeger make appear that he was strong enow, brave and well-armed. Ho,

what knights he slew! This a Burgundian espied; perforce it angered him,

and thus Sir Rudeger's death drew near.

The stalwart Gernot accosted the hero; to the margrave he spake: "It

appeareth, ye will not leave my men alive, most noble Rudeger. That

irketh me beyond all measure, no longer can I bear the sight. So may

your present work you harm, sith ye have taken from me such store of

friends. Pray address you unto me, most noble man and brave, your gift

shall be paid for as best I can."

Or ever the margrave could reach his foe, bright armor rings must needs

grow dull with blood. Then at each other sprang these honor-seeking men.

Either gan guard him against mighty wounds. So sharp were their swords,

that naught might avail against them. Then Rudeger, the knight, smote

Gernot a buffet through his helmet, the which was as hard as flint, so

that the blood gushed forth. But this the bold knight and good repaid

eftsoon. High in his hand he now poised Rudeger's gift, and though

wounded unto death, he smote him a stroke through his good and trusty

shield down to his helmet band. And so fair Gotelind's husband was done

to death. Certes, so rich a gift was never worse repaid. So fell alike

both Gernot and Rudeger, slain in the fray, through each other's hand.

Then first waxed Hagen wroth, when he saw the monstrous scathe. Quoth

the hero of Troneg: "Evil hath it fared with us. In these two men we

have taken a loss so great that neither their land nor people will e'er

recover from the blow. Rudeger's champions must answer to us homeless

men."

"Alas for my brother, who hath here been done to death. What evil tales

I hear all time! Noble Rudeger, too, must ever rue me. The loss and the

grievous wounds are felt on either side."

When Lord Giselher saw his betrothed's father dead, those within the

hall were forced to suffer need. Fiercely death sought his fellowship;

not one of those of Bechelaren escaped with life. Gunther and Giselher

and Hagen, too, Dankwart and Folker, the right good knights, went to

where they found the two men lying. Then by these heroes tears of grief

were shed.

"Death doth sorely rob us," spake Giselher, the youth. "Now give over

your weeping and go we bite the breeze, that the mailed armor of us

storm-weary men may cool. Certes, I ween, that God in heaven vouchsafeth

us no more to live."

This champion was seen to sit and that to lean against the wall, but all

again were idle. Rudeger's heroes lay still in death. The din had died

away; the hush endured so long, it vexed King Etzel.

"Alack for such services," spake the queen. "They be not so true, that

our foes must pay with their life at Rudeger's hands. I trow, he doth

wish to lead them back to the Burgundian land. What booteth it, King

Etzel, that we have given him whatso he would? The knight hath done

amiss, he who should avenge us, doth make his peace."

To this Folker, the full dapper knight, made answer: "This is not true,

alas, most noble queen. Durst I give the lie to such a high-born dame,

then had ye most foully lied against Rudeger. He and his champions be

cozened in this peace. So eagerly he did what the king commanded,

that he and all his fellowship lie here in death. Now look around you,

Kriemhild, to see whom ye may now command. The good Knight Rudeger hath

served you to his end. And ye will not believe the tale, we'll let you

see."

To their great grief 'twas done; they bare the slain hero to where the

king might see him. Never had there happed to Etzel's men a grief so

great. When they saw the margrave borne forth dead, no scribe might

write or tell the frantic grief of men and women, which there gan show

itself from dole of heart. King Etzel's sorrow waxed so great that the

mighty king did voice his woe of heart, as with a lion's roar. Likewise

did his queen. Beyond all measure they bewailed the good Knight

Rudeger's death.

ENDNOTES:

(1) "Parlous", older English for 'perilous'.

(2) "Fey", 'doomed to death', here in the sense of 'already

slain'. See Adventure V, note 2.

(3) "Strangers", i.e., those who are sojourning there far from

home.

ADVENTURE XXXVIII. How All Sir Dietrich's Warriors Were Slain.

On every side one heard a grief so great, that the palace and the towers

rang with the wailing. Then a liegeman of Dietrich heard it, too. How

quickly he gan haste him with the fearful tales! To the lording he

spake: "Hear, my lord, Sir Dietrich, however much I've lived to see till

now, yet heard I never such a monstrous wail, as now hath reached mine

ears. I ween, King Etzel himself hath come to grief. How else might all

be so distressed? One of the twain, the king or Kriemhild, hath sorely

been laid low by the brave strangers in their wrath. Full many a dapper

warrior weepeth passing sore."

Then spake the Knight of Borne: "My faithful men, now haste ye not

too fast. Whatever the homeless warriors may have done, they be now in

mickle need. Let it profit them, that I did offer them my peace."

At this brave Wolfhart spake: "I will hie me hence and ask for tidings

of what they have done, and will tell you then, my most dear lord, just

as I find it, what the wail may be."

Then spake Sir Dietrich: "Where one awaiteth wrath, and rude questions

then are put, this doth lightly sadden the lofty mood of warriors. In

truth, I will not, Wolfhart, that ye ask these questions of them."

Then he told Helfrich (1) to hasten thither speedily, and bade him find

from Etzel's men or from the guests themselves, what there had fortuned,

for men had never seen from folks so great a grief. The messenger gan

ask: "What hath here been done?"

At this one among them spake: "Whatever of joy we had in the Hunnish

land hath passed away. Here lieth Rudeger, slain by the Burgundians'

hands; and of those who were come with him, not one hath 'scaped

alive."

Sir Helfrich could never have had a greater dole. Sorely weeping, the

envoy went to Dietrich. Never was he so loth to tell a tale. "What

have ye found for us?" quoth Dietrich. "Why weep ye so sore, Knight

Helfrich?"

Then spake the noble champion: "I have good cause for wail. The

Burgundians have slain the good Sir Rudeger."

At this the hero of Berne made answer: "Now God forbid. That were a

fearful vengeance, over which the foul fiend would gloat. Wherewith hath

Rudeger deserved this at their hands? I know full well, forsooth, he is

the strangers' friend."

To this Wolfhart answered: "And have they done this deed, 'twill cost

them all their lives. 'Twould be our shame, should we let this pass, for

of a truth the hand of the good knight Rudeger hath served us much and

oft."

The lord of the Amelungs bade learn it better. In bitter grief he sate

him at a window and begged Hildebrand to hie him to the strangers, that

he might find from them what had been done. The storm-brave warrior,

Master Hildebrand, (2) bare neither shield nor weapon in his hand. In

courtly wise he would hie him to the strangers; for this he was chided

by his sister's son. Grim Wolfhart spake: "And ye will go thither so

bare, ye will never fare without upbraiding; ye must return with shame.

But if ye go there armed, each will guard against that well."

Then the wise man armed him, through the counsel of youth. Or ever he

was ware, all Dietrich's warriors had donned their war-weeds and held

in their hands their swords. Loth it was to the hero, and he would have

gladly turned their mind. He asked whither they would go.

"We will hence with you. Perchance Hagen of Troneg then will dare the

less to address him to you with scorn, which full well he knoweth how to

use." When he heard this, the knight vouchsafed them for to go.

Soon brave Folker saw the champions of Berne, the liegemen of Dietrich,

march along, well armed, begirt with swords, while in their hands they

bare their shields. He told it to his lords from out the Burgundian

land. The fiddler spake: "Yonder I see the men of Dietrich march along

in right hostile wise, armed cap-a-pie. They would encounter us; I ween

'twill go full ill with us strangers."

Meanwhile Sir Hildebrand was come. Before his feet he placed his shield,

and gan ask Gunther's men: "Alas, good heroes, what had Rudeger done

you? My Lord Dietrich hath sent me hither to you to say, that if the

hand of any among you hath slain the noble margrave, as we are told, we

could never stand such mighty dole."

Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "The tale is true. How gladly could I wish,

that the messenger had told you false, for Rudeger's sake, and that he

still did live, for whom both man and wife may well ever weep."

When they heard aright that he was dead, the warriors made wail for

him, as their fealty bade them. Over the beards and chins of Dietrich's

champions the tears were seen to run. Great grief had happened to them.

Siegstab, (3) the Duke of Berne, then spake: "Now hath come to an end

the cheer, that Rudeger did give us after our days of dole. The joy of

all wayfaring folk lieth slain by you, sir knights."

Then spake the Knight Wolfwin (4) of the Amelungs: "And I saw mine own

father dead to-day, I should not make greater dole, than for his death.

Alas, who shall now comfort the good margrave's wife?"

Angry of mood Knight Wolfhart spake: "Who shall now lead the warriors

to so many a fight, as the margrave so oft hath done? Alas, most noble

Rudeger, that we should lose thee thus!"

Wolfbrand (5) and Helfrich and Helmnot, too, with all their men bewailed

his death. For sighing Hildebrand might no longer ask a whit. He spake:

"Sir knights, now do what my lord hath sent you here to do. Give us

the corse of Rudeger from out the hall, in whom our joy hath turned to

grief, and let us repay to him the great fealty he hath shown to us and

to many another man. We, too, be exiles, just as Rudeger, the knight.

Why do ye let us wait thus? Let us bear him away, that we may yet

requite the knight in death. More justly had we done it, when he was

still alive."

Then spake King Gunther: "Never was there so good a service as that,

which a friend doth do to a friend after his death. When any doeth that,

I call it faithful friendship. Ye repay him but rightly, for much love

hath he ever shown you."

"How long shall we still beseech?" spake Knight Wolfhart. "Sith our best

hope hath been laid low in death by you, and we may no longer have him

with us, let us bear him hence to where the warrior may be buried."

To this Folker made answer: "None will give him to you. Fetch ye him

from the hall where the warrior lieth, fallen in the blood, with mortal

wounds. 'Twill then be a perfect service, which ye render Rudeger."

Quoth brave Wolfhart: "God wot, sir minstrel, ye have given us great

dole and should not rouse our ire. But that I durst not for fear of my

lord, ye should all fare ill. We must perforce abstain, sith he forbade

us strife."

Then spake the fiddler: "He hath a deal too much fear who doth abstain

from all that one forbiddeth him. That I call not a real hero's mood."

This speech of his war comrade thought Hagen good.

"Long not for that," answered Wolfhart, "or I'll play such havoc with

your fiddle strings, that ye'll have cause to tell the tale, when ye

ride homeward to the Rhine. I cannot brook in honor your overweening

pride."

Quoth the fiddler: "If ye put out of tune my strings, then must the

gleam of your helmet grow dim from this hand of mine, however I ride to

the Burgundian land."

Then would he leap at him, but his uncle Hildebrand grasped him firmly.

"I ween, thou wouldst rage in thy silly anger. Then hadst thou lost

forever the favor of my lord."

"Let go the lion, master, he is so fierce of mood," quoth the good

knight Folker. "Had he slain the whole world with his one hand, I'll

smite him, and he come within my reach, so that he may never sing the

answer to my song."

At this the men of Berne waxed passing wroth of mood. Wolfhart, a

doughty knight and a good, snatched up his shield. Like a wild lion

he ran to meet him, swiftly followed by all his friends. But howsoever

great the strides he took towards the hall, yet did old Hildebrand

overtake him at the steps. He would not let him reach the fray before

him. At the hands of the homeless knights they later found the strife

they sought. Master Hildebrand then sprang at Hagen. In the hands of

both one heard the swords ring out. That both were angry, might be

plainly seen; from the swords of the twain streamed forth a blast of

fire-red sparks. Then they were parted in the stress of battle by the

men of Berne, as their strength did bid them. At once Hildebrand turned

him away from Hagen, but stout Wolfhart addressed him to Folker the

bold. Such a blow he smote the fiddler upon his good helmet, that the

sword's edge pierced to the very helmet bands. This the bold gleeman

repaid with might; he smote Wolfhart, so that the sparks flew wide. Enow

of fire they struck from the armor rings, for each bare hatred to the

other. Then Knight Wolfwin of Berne did part them--an' he be not a hero,

never was there one.

With willing hand Gunther, the champion, greeted the heroes of the

Amelung land. Lord Giselher made many a gleaming helmet red and wet with

blood. Dankwart, Hagen's brother, a fierce man was he; whatever he had

done before to Etzel's warriors in strife was as a wind to the fury with

which bold Aldrian's son now fought. Ritschart (6) and Gerbart, Helfrich

and Wichart had spared themselves full seldom in many battle storms;

this they now made Gunther's liegemen note full well. Wolfbrand, too,

was seen in the strife bearing him in lordly wise. Old Hildebrand fought

as though he raged. At Wolfhart's hands many good knights, struck by the

sword, must needs fall dead down into the blood. Thus the bold champions

and good avenged Knight Rudeger.

Then Lord Siegstab fought as his prowess bade him. Ho, what good helmets

of his foes this son of Dietrich's sister clove in the strife! Nor

might he ever do better in the fray. When sturdy Folker espied that bold

Siegstab hewed a bloody stream from the hard armor rings, wroth of mood

the hero grew. He sprang to meet him, and Siegstab lost his life full

soon at the fiddler's hands, for Folker gave him such a sample of his

art, that he soon lay dead, slain by his sword. This old Hildebrand

avenged, as his might did bid him.

"Alas for my dear lord," spake Master Hildebrand, "who lieth here dead

at Folker's hands. Now shall the fiddler no longer live."

How might bold Hildebrand ever be fiercer? Folker he smote, so that

on all sides the clasps flew to the walls of the hall from helmet and

shield of the doughty gleeman. Thus stout Folker was done to death. At

this the men of Dietrich pressed forward to the strife. They smote so

that the armor rings whirled far and wide, and high through the air

the sword-points wore seen to fly. From the helmets they drew the warm

gushing stream of blood. When Hagen of Troneg saw Folker dead, that was

the greatest sorrow, that he had gained at the feasting in kinsman or

in liegeman. Alas, how fiercely Hagen gan venge the knight! "Now old

Hildebrand shall not profit by this deed. My helpmate lieth slain by the

hero's hand, the best war comrade that I did ever win." Higher he raised

his helmet, and ran, slashing as he went.

Stout Helfrich slew Dankwart. Loth enow it was to Gunther and Giselher,

when they saw him fall in cruel need, but with his own hands he himself

had well avenged his death. Meanwhile Wolfhart raged back and forth,

hewing alway King Gunther's men. For the third time he was come through

the hall, and many a warrior fell, struck by his hands.

Then Lord Giselher cried out to Wolfhart: "Alas, that I have ever gained

so grim a foe! Noble knight and brave, now address you unto me. I'll

help to make an end; this may be no longer."

At this Wolfhart turned him in strife to Giselher, and each smote other

many a gaping wound. He pressed so mightily toward the king, that

the blood beneath his feet spurted high above his head. With grim

and fearful blows the son of fair Uta then greeted the brave knight

Wolfhart. However strong the warrior, he might not save his life. Never

could so young a king have been more brave; Wolfhart he smote through

his stout hauberk, that his blood streamed down from the wound. Unto

death he wounded Dietrich's liegeman. None save a champion had done such

deed. When brave Wolfhart felt the wound, he let fall his shield and

lifted higher in his hand his mighty sword (sharp enow it was); through

both helmet and armor rings the hero smote Giselher. Thus each did other

fiercely unto death.

Now was none left of Dietrich's men. Old Hildebrand saw Wolfhart fall;

never before his death, I ween, did such dole happen to him. The men of

Gunther all lay dead, and those of Dietrich, too. Hildebrand hied him to

where Wolfhart had fallen in the gore, and clasped in his arms the brave

knight and good. He would fain bear him from the hall, but he was a

deal too heavy, and so he must needs let him lie. Then the dying warrior

looked upward from the blood in which he lay; well he saw, that his

uncle would fain help him hence. Though wounded unto death, he spake:

"Dear uncle mine, ye may not aid me now. 'Tis well, methinks, that ye

should guard you against Hagen. A fierce mood he beareth in his heart.

And if perchance my kinsmen would mourn me after I am dead; pray tell

the nearest and the best, that they weep not for me; there is no need of

that. At the hands of a king I have met a glorious death and have also

avenged me, so that the wives of the good knights may well bewail it. If

any ask you of this, ye may boldly say, that full a hundred lie slain by

my hand alone."

Then Hagen, too, bethought him of the gleeman, whom bold Hildebrand

had robbed of life. To the knight he spake: "Ye'll requite me now my

sorrows. Through your hatred ye have bereft us of many a lusty knight."

He dealt Hildebrand such a blow, that men heard Balmung ring, the which

bold Hagen had taken from Siegfried, when he slew the knight. Then the

old man warded him; in sooth he was brave enow. Dietrich's champion

struck with a broad sword, that cut full sore, at the hero of Troneg,

but could not wound King Gunther's liegeman. Hagen, however, smote him

through his well-wrought hauberk. When old Hildebrand felt the wound, he

feared more scathe at Hagen's hand; his shield he slung across his back

and thus Sir Dietrich's man escaped from Hagen, though sorely wounded.

Now of all the knights none was alive save the twain, Gunther and

Hagen alone. Dripping with blood old Hildebrand went to where he found

Dietrich, and told him the baleful tale. He saw him sitting sadly, but

much more of dole the prince now gained. He spied Hildebrand in his

blood-red hauberk, and asked him tidings, as his fears did prompt him.

"Now tell me, Master Hildebrand, how be ye so wet with your lifeblood?

Pray who hath done you this? I ween, ye have fought with the strangers

in the hall. I forbade it you so sorely, that ye should justly have

avoided it."

Then said he to his lord: "'Twas Hagen that did it. He dealt me this

wound in the hall, when I would fain have turned me from the knight. I

scarce escaped the devil with my life."

Then spake the Lord of Berne: "Rightly hath it happed you, for that ye

have broken the peace, which I had sworn them, sith ye did hear me vow

friendship to the knights. Were it not mine everlasting shame, ye should

lose your life."

"My Lord Dietrich, now be ye not so wroth; the damage to my friends and

me is all too great. Fain would we have carried Rudeger's corse away,

but King Gunther's liegemen would not grant it us."

"Woe is me of these sorrows! If Rudeger then be dead, 'twill bring

me greater dole, than all my woe. Noble Gotelind is the child of my

father's sister; alas for the poor orphans, that be now in Bechelaren."

Rudeger's death now minded him of ruth and dole. Mightily the hero gan

weep; in sooth he had good cause. "Alas for this faithful comrade whom I

have lost! In truth I shall ever mourn for King Etzel's liegeman. Can ye

tell me, Master Hildebrand, true tidings, who be the knight, that hath

slain him there?"

Quoth he: "That stout Gernot did, with might and main, but the hero,

too, fell dead at Rudeger's hands."

Again he spake to Hildebrand: "Pray say to my men, that they arm them

quickly, for I will hie me hither, and bid them make ready my shining

battle weeds. I myself will question the heroes of the Burgundian land."

Then spake Master Hildebrand: "Who then shall join you? Whatso of living

men ye have, ye see stand by you. 'Tis I alone; the others, they be

dead."

He started at this tale; forsooth, he had good cause, for never in his

life had he gained so great a grief. He spake: "And are my men all dead,

then hath God forgotten me, poor Dietrich. Once I was a lordly king,

mighty, high, and rich." Again Sir Dietrich spake: "How could it hap,

that all the worshipful heroes died at the hands of the battle-weary,

who were themselves hard pressed? Were it not for mine ill-luck, death

were still a stranger to them. Sith then mine evil fortune would have it

so, pray tell me, are any of the strangers still alive?"

Then spake Master Hildebrand: "God wet, none other save only Hagen and

Gunther, the high-born king."

"Alas, dear Wolfhart, and I have lost thee too, then may it well rue me,

that ever I was born. Siegstab and Wolfwin and Wolfbrand, too! Who then

shall help me to the Amelung land? Bold Helfrich, hath he, too, been

slain, and Gerbart and Wichart? How shall I ever mourn for them in

fitting wise? This day doth forever end my joys. Alas, that none may die

for very grief!"

ENDNOTES:

(1) "Helfrich" appears also in the "Thidreksaga", chap. 330,

where we are told that he was the bravest and courtliest of

all knights.

(2) "Master Hildebrand", see Adventure XXVIII, note 1.

(3) "Siegstab" is Dietrich's nephew. He also appears in the

"Thidreksaga", but in a different role.

(4) "Wolfwin" is mentioned in the "Klage", 1541, as Dietrich's

nephew.

(5) "Wolfbrand" and "Helmnot" appear only here.

(6) "Ritschart". With the exception of Helfrich (see Above

note 1), these names do not occur elsewhere, though one of

the sons of Haimon was called Wichart.

ADVENTURE XXXIX. How Gunther And Hagen And Kriemhild Were Slain.

Then Sir Dietrich fetched himself his coat of mail, and Master

Hildebrand helped him arm. The mighty man made wail so sore, that the

whole house resounded with his voice. But then he gained again a real

hero's mood. The good knight was now armed and grim of mind; a stout

shield he hung upon his arm. Thus he and Master Hildebrand went boldly

hence.

Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "Yonder I see Sir Dietrich coming hither; he

would fain encounter us, after the great sorrow, that hath here befallen

him. To-day we shall see, to whom one must give the palm. However strong

of body and grim of mood the lord of Berne thinketh him to be, right

well dare I match him," so spake Hagen, "an' he will avenge on us that

which hath been done him."

Dietrich and Hildebrand heard this speech, for Hagen came to where he

found the champion stand before the house, leaning against the wall.

Dietrich set his good shield upon the ground, and spake in grievous

dole: "Gunther, mighty king, why have ye so acted against me, banished

man? What have I done to you? I stand alone, bereft of all my comfort.

Ye thought it not enow of bitter need, when ye did kill Knight Rudeger,

our friend. Now ye have robbed me of all my men. Forsooth I never had

wrought you heroes sorrow such as this. Think on yourselves and on your

wrongs. Doth not the death of your kinsmen and all the hardship grieve

the minds of you good knights? Alas, what great dole Rudeger's death

doth give me! Never in all the world hath more of sorrow happed to any

man. Ye thought but little on me and on your pain. Whatsoever joy I had,

that lieth slain by you. Certes, I never can bewail my kin enow."

"Forsooth we be not so guilty," answered Hagen. "Your warriors came to

this hall in a large band, armed with care. Methinks the tale hath not

been told you rightly."

"What else should I believe? Hildebrand told me, that when my knights

from the Amelung land asked that ye should give up Rudeger's corse from

out the hall, ye did naught but mock the valiant heroes from above the

steps."

Then spake the king from the Rhine: "They said, that they would fain

bear Rudeger hence, and I bade this be denied them to vex King Etzel,

and not thy men, until then Wolfhart began to rail about it."

Then the hero of Berne made answer: "Fate would have it so. Gunther,

most noble king, now through thy courtesie requite me of the wrongs,

that have happed to me from thee, and make such amends, brave knight,

that I may give thee credit for the deed. Give thyself and thy men to me

as hostages, and I will guard you, as best I may, that none here do thee

aught among the Huns. Thou shalt find me naught but good and true."

"Now God forbid," quoth Hagen, "that two knights give themselves up

to thee, that still do stand opposed to thee so doughtily and walk so

unfettered before their foes."

"Gunther and Hagen, ye should not deny me this," spake Dietrich. "Ye

have grieved my heart and mind so sore, that it were but right, and ye

would requite me. I give you my hand and troth as pledge, that I will

ride with you, home to your land. I'll lead you in all honor, or else

lie dead, and for your sakes I will forget my grievous wrongs."

"Crave this no longer," answered Hagen. "'Twere fitting, that the tale

be told of us, that two men so brave had given themselves up to you. We

see none standing by you, save Hildebrand alone."

Then up spake Master Hildebrand: "God wot, Sir Hagen, the hour will

come, when ye will gladly take the peace, if so be any offer to keep it

with you. Ye might well content you with the truce my lord doth offer."

"Forsooth I'd take the truce," quoth Hagen, "or ever I'd flee from out

a hall so shamefully as ye did, Master Hildebrand. I weened, ye could

stand better against a foe."

To this Hildebrand made answer: "Why twit ye me with that? Who was it

sate upon a shield hard by the Waskstone, (1) when Walter of Spain slew

so many of his kin? Ye, too, have faults enow of your own to show."

Then spake Sir Dietrich: "Ill doth it beseem heroes, that they should

scold like aged beldams. I forbid you, Hildebrand, to speak aught more.

Grievous wrongs constrain me, homeless warrior. Let's hear, Knight

Hagen, what ye twain did speak, ye doughty men, when ye saw me coming

toward you armed? Ye said, that ye alone would fain encounter me in

strife."

"Certes, none doth deny," Knight Hagen spake, "that I will essay it here

with mighty blows, unless be, that the sword of Nibelung break in my

hand. Wroth am I, that we twain have here been craved as hostages."

When Dietrich noted Hagen's raging mood, quickly the doughty knight and

good snatched up his shield. How swiftly Hagen sprang toward him from

the steps! Loudly the good sword of Nibelung rang on Dietrich's head.

Then wist Dietrich well, that the bold knight was grim of mood. The

lord of Berne gan guard him against the fearful blows, for well he knew

Hagen, the stately knight. Balmung he also feared, a weapon stout enow.

Dietrich returned the blows at times in cunning wise, until at last he

conquered Hagen in the strife. A wound he dealt him, the which was

deep and long. Then Lord Dietrich thought him: "Thou art worn out with

strife; little honor shall I have, and thou liest dead before me. I will

try, if perchance I can force thee to be my hostage."

This he wrought with danger. His shield he let fall, great was his

strength, and clasped Hagen of Troneg in his arms. Thus the brave knight

was overcome by Dietrich. Noble Gunther gan wail thereat. Dietrich now

bound Hagen and led him to where he found the high-born queen; into her

hand he gave the bravest warrior that ever bare a sword. Then merry enow

she grew after her great dole. For very joy King Etzel's wife bowed low

before the knight. "May thy heart and body be ever blest. Thou hast well

requited me of all my woes. For this will I ever serve thee, unless be,

that death doth hinder me therefrom."

Then spake Lord Dietrich: "Pray let him live, most noble queen. And if

this still may be, how well will I requite you of that which he hath

done you! Let him not suffer, because ye see him stand here bound."

She bade Hagen then be led away to duress, where he lay locked in and

where none did see him. Gunther, the high-born king, began to call:

"Whither went the knight of Berne? He hath done me wrong."

At this Lord Dietrich went to meet him. Gunther's might was worthy

of praise; no more he bided, but ran outside the hall, and from the

clashing of the swords of the twain a mighty din arose. However much and

long Lord Dietrich's prowess had been praised, yet Gunther was so sorely

angered and enraged, for because of the grievous dole, he was his deadly

foe, that men still tell it as a wonder, that Sir Dietrich did not fall.

Great were both their prowess and their strength. The palace and the

towers resounded with the blows, when with the swords they hewed at the

sturdy helmets. King Gunther was of lordly mood, but the knight of Berne

overcame him, as happed to Hagen afore. The hero's blood was seen to

ooze through the armor rings, drawn forth by a keen-edged sword, the

which Sir Dietrich bare. Though weary, Sir Gunther had guarded him most

valiantly. The lord was now bound by Dietrich's hands. Though kings

should not endure such bonds, yet Dietrich thought, if he set free the

king and his liegeman, that all they met must needs fall dead at their

hands.

Dietrich of Berne now took him by the hand and led him bound to where

he found Kriemhild. At sight of his sorrow much of her fear took flight.

She spake: "Welcome, Gunther, from the Burgundian land."

Quoth he: "I would bow before you, dear sister mine, if your greetings

were but kinder. I know you, queen, to be so wroth of mood that ye do

give me and Hagen meagre greetings."

Up spake the knight of Berne: "Most noble queen, never were such good

knights made hostages, as I have given you in them, exalted lady. For my

sake, I pray you, spare these homeless men."

She vowed she'd do it gladly. Then Sir Dietrich left the worshipful

knights with weeping eyes. Later Etzel's wife avenged her grimly; she

took the life of both the chosen heroes. To make their duress worse she

let them lie apart, so that neither saw the other, till she bare her

brother's head to Hagen. Kriemhild's vengeance on both was great enow.

Then the queen went to Hagen. In what right hostile wise she spake to

the knight: "If ye will give me back what ye have taken from me, then ye

may still go home alive to Burgundy."

Grim Hagen answered: "Thou dost waste thy words, most noble queen.

Forsooth I have sworn an oath, that I would not show the hoard, the

while and any of my lords still live; so I shall give it to none."

"I'll make an end of this," quoth the high-born wife. Then she bade her

brother's life be taken. His head they struck off, and by the hair she

bare it to the knight of Troneg. Loth enow it was to him. When sad of

mind the warrior gazed upon his master's head, he spake to Kriemhild:

"Thou hast brought it to an end after thy will, and it hath happed, as I

had thought me. The noble king of Burgundy now lieth dead, and Giselher,

the youth, and Sir Gernot, too. None knoweth of the treasure now save

God and me, and it shall ever be hid from thee, thou fiend."

Quoth she: "Ye have requited me full ill, so I will keep the sword of

Siegfried, the which my sweetheart bare, when last I saw him, in whom

dole of heart hath happed to me through you."

From the sheath she drew it, nor could he hinder her a whit. She planned

to rob the knight of life. With her hands she raised it and struck off

his head. This King Etzel saw, and sore enow it rued him. "Alack!" cried

the lording, "how lieth now dead at a woman's hands the very best of

knights, that ever came to battle or bare a shield! However much I was

his foe, yet it doth grieve me sorely."

Then spake old Hildebrand: "Forsooth it shall not boot her aught, that

she durst slay him. Whatso hap to me, and however much it may bring me

to a dangerous pass, yet will I avenge bold Troneg's death."

Hildebrand sprang in wrath towards Kriemhild. For fear of him she

suffered pain; but what might it avail her, that she shrieked so

frightfully? He dealt the queen a grievous sword-blow, the which did

cut the high-born dame in twain. Now all lay low in death whom fate had

doomed. Dietrich and Etzel then began to weep; sorely they mourned

both kin and liegemen. Their mickle honors lay there low in death; the

courtiers all had grief and drearihead. The king's high feast had ended

now in woe, as joy doth ever end in sorrow at the last. I cannot tell

you, that which happed thereafter, save that knights and ladies and

noble squires were seen to weep for the death of loving kinsmen. The

tale hath here an end. This is the Nibelungs' fall. (2) (3)

ENDNOTES:

(1) "Waskstone", see Adventure XXXV, note 2.

(2) "Fall". The word "not", translated here "fall", means

really 'disaster', but as this word is not in keeping with

the style, "fall" has been chosen as preferable to 'need',

used by some translators. The MS. C has here "liet" instead

of "not" of A and B.

(3) The "Nibelungenlied" is continued by the so-called "Klage",

a poem written in short rhyming couplets. As the name

indicates, it describes the lamentations of the survivors

over the dead. The praises of each warrior are sung and a

messenger dispatched to acquaint Gotelind, Uta, and Brunhild

with the sad end of their kinsmen. It closes with

Dietrich's departure from Etzel's court and his return home.

Although in one sense a continuation of our poem, the

"Klage" is an independent work of no great merit, being

excessively tedious with its constant repetitions. A

reprint and a full account of it will be found in Piper's

edition of our poem, vol. I.