it chanced that King Siegfried was then in the land of the Nibelungs,
and thither they sought him, bearing the message from Günther and
Brunhild. Supposing the King to be again beset by foes he declared
himself ready to set out at once to his relief, but the Margrave made
him aware that not to do battle was he bidden, but to celebrate the
feast of the equinox about to be held in Worms. Siegfried thereupon
took counsel with his chiefs, who deemed it prudent that he should
go attended by not less than a thousand knights, while his father,
Siegmund, made ready to accompany him with his own band of a hundred
warriors.
Laden with costly gifts, the messengers returned to Burgundy with the
news that Siegfried would shortly follow. But when Hagen beheld the
treasures they brought with them he secretly coveted the Nibelung hoard
and longed to see it all in Worms.
Meanwhile Günther had not failed to recall to Brunhild the loving
welcome she had met with from Kriemhild when first she came to
Burgundy, and charged her now not to be in any way behind in her
greetings to his sister, and Brunhild gave her word thereto. On the
appointed day the whole Burgundian court rode forth to meet the
expected guests, and right joyous was their welcome. The whole city was
given up to feasting and rejoicing, and all went well for eleven days,
when a grand tournament was held. It chanced, as the two Queens sat at
a window looking on at the jousting, that Kriemhild, rapt in watching
Siegfried, exclaimed:
“Ah! look thou upon my lord! So brave and knightly doth he bear him, as
were the whole world’s homage but his due.”
This displeased the haughty Brunhild, and she replied scornfully: “Ay,
so indeed, perchance, were thou and he alone upon the earth.”
But Kriemhild, her gaze still fixed on Siegfried, continued: “How truly
noble is my royal spouse! Methinks among yon chiefs he is so far the
first as doth the moon outshine the starry host!”
“Rare and matchless though he be, forsooth,” returned Brunhild, “yet is
he not so great a King as is my Günther!”
At this Kriemhild’s anger began to rise, and she cried out: “In no way
is Siegfried behind thy lord or any man on earth!” Whereupon Brunhild
with an evil glance at Kriemhild declared that Siegfried with his own
lips had owned himself vassal to King Günther when they came to Iceland
for the wooing. Kriemhild was greatly troubled, yet she answered
proudly:
“Were my lord in truth what thou sayest, then methinks it passing
strange that he hath paid no tribute to Günther as his liege lord in
all these many years.”
“By my faith, thou dost presume too much!” cried Brunhild, furiously.
“We shall see anon whether thou or I be most deserving homage!”
With this the Queens parted, bitter anger swelling in their breasts.
_Chapter XIV_
_The Queens’ Quarrel_
When on the next morning Kriemhild repaired with her women to the
cathedral, Brunhild was before her, and stood at the door with all
her train clad in their costliest robes, whereat the people wondered
greatly, for the two Queens were wont to walk side by side in stately
procession. Kriemhild was about to ascend the steps when Brunhild in
a loud voice bade her stand aside, since it was not seemly that the
wife of a vassal should go before the Queen of Burgundy into the house
of God. This went to Kriemhild’s heart, for she felt the rude speech
injured her beloved Siegfried more than herself. Beside herself with
anger, she cried out:
“Vassal or no vassal, yet my lord is greater than thine: for know,
if thou must, it was he who overcame thee and delivered thee up to
Günther!”
At this Brunhild burst into tears, and Kriemhild, not desiring to
prolong the quarrel, passed into the church. Brunhild followed, but so
filled with burning rage was she that little did she hear of sermon or
of song. When the service was ended she awaited Kriemhild at the door
and overwhelming her with passionate reproaches, demanded the proof of
her words.
Now, Siegfried had given to his wife the ring and girdle he had taken
from Brunhild. During the service Kriemhild’s anger had cooled, and her
wish was to depart in peace; yet since Brunhild would not permit this,
but grew more and more violent, in the end Kriemhild drew forth the
ring and showed it to her rival, saying: “If thou wilt have the truth,
by this token was it Siegfried who did conquer thee!”
“Then, forsooth, hath it been stolen from me!” retorted Brunhild,
changing color.
But now Kriemhild also produced the girdle; whereupon Brunhild,
wringing her hands, burst into a passion of tears, and both Queens went
upon their way.
Hastily summoning Günther, his weeping spouse related to him all that
had passed, adding that Siegfried himself must have devised this means
of publicly affronting her. Whereupon Günther forthwith sought out
Siegfried, and he, knowing naught of the matter, was much disturbed to
hear of the quarrel.
Nevertheless, he bade his comrade soothe the anger of Brunhild, and
vowed therewith soundly to reprove his wife for her rash speech. Then
was King Günther glad once more, for he loved Siegfried and was loath
to be at enmity with him. But all Günther’s efforts to make peace were
useless. Brunhild refused to be appeased; and when Hagen came to visit
her she told him of the insult that had been offered her, protesting
that Siegfried alone had been the cause thereof. Whereupon Hagen fell
into a terrible passion and swore to avenge his Queen’s dishonor.
Then came Giselher, and when he had heard all, he warned Hagen not
to be blinded by sudden anger, dwelling on the good-will and favor
Siegfried had ever borne the King and all the land. Meanwhile other
chiefs came forward, and now Ortwin spoke out, saying:
“An the King so wills, by my hand the traitor shall perish; nor shall
his mighty strength avail to save him!”
Yet none was there that found this saying good, save Hagen, the grim.
But with crafty words day after day he urged Günther on to revenge,
dwelling on the wealth and power that would be his were Siegfried’s
lands with all the Nibelung treasure to become his own, until at last
the temptation grew too strong for the King, and he yielded himself to
Hagen’s will.
_Chapter XV_
_The Betrayal_
Hagen now bethought him of a plan whereby he might learn from Kriemhild
the secret of Siegfried’s vulnerable spot. Some of his men donned the
garb of foreign messengers and appeared at the court, with a false
challenge from Lendeger and Lendegast, the two Kings Siegfried had
formerly vanquished. Again Günther wavered in his purpose, at the
thought of such treachery toward Siegfried, who had ever been his loyal
friend, and of whose innocence moreover he felt sure; but Hagen’s
evil counsel once more prevailed, and the voice of his conscience was
stifled.
Siegfried soon perceived that something was amiss, and questioning
Günther as to the cause of his silence and gloom, drew from him that
the Saxon and Danish Kings had sworn vengeance and were coming to lay
waste the land. Whereupon he avowed himself ready and eager to meet
Günther’s foes again in battle.
“Do thou bide here,” he said, “whilst I with my eleven hundred chosen
knights go forth and chastise this presumptuous pair.”
Joyfully the hero made ready to depart, and Hagen, who had declared he
would ride with them, went to take leave of Kriemhild. She besought
him to be no longer angry with her for the words she had spoken to
Brunhild, adding:
“I have been punished enough for my folly in my lord Siegfried’s
displeasure!”
“All is forgotten, fair lady,” replied Hagen. “Nor is it save for love
of King Siegfried that I go with him to this war. Should there be aught
wherein it may avail, be sure he shall not lack my aid.”
Then was Kriemhild overjoyed and began therewith to sound the praises
of her lord, dwelling on the love and loyalty he had ever shown toward
Burgundy, and her fear lest through his reckless valor he might
perchance hazard his life.
Whereupon the wily Hagen answered: “Methinks there can be no danger to
thy lord, since he is proof against all harm; yet tell me, I pray thee,
if by any chance this be not so, that I may know how best to secure his
safety.”
At this, Kriemhild opened her heart to Hagen, and having full faith
in his honesty and loyalty, confided to him how, when Siegfried had
covered himself with the fat of the dragons, a linden leaf had fallen
between his shoulders, leaving one spot wherein he might come to harm.
Thereupon she charged him anew to guard Siegfried well, lest in the
heat of battle some foe should wound him from the rear. Overjoyed with
the success of his strategy, Hagen counselled Kriemhild to mark this
spot upon Siegfried’s garment, that he might be the better able to
shield him, and vowing to bide faithfully at his side in battle, took
his leave.
That same evening Kriemhild took the outer garment of her beloved
spouse and wrought with finest silk upon it a small red cross--his
death mark, alas! for Hagen saw and fixed the spot well in his mind.
The next morning, as Siegfried and his well-armed followers were about
to set forth, Hagen contrived that other messengers should appear with
the news that the two Kings had taken counsel and determined to abandon
the war with Burgundy.
“Then have we armed to no purpose!” said Siegfried to Günther, who
nevertheless gave him thanks with fair but lying words for his
willingness to aid them; and therewith, by Hagen’s counsel, he urged
Siegfried to go with them to a hunt on the following morning in the
Vosges forest, for there it was that Hagen had planned to accomplish
his evil purpose.
_Chapter XVI_
_Siegfried’s Death_
When the morning was come, therefore, Siegfried made him ready for
the hunt and went to take leave of Kriemhild. She was full of anxious
forebodings. Hagen’s grim visage rose before her eyes, and she began
to mistrust him and his friendly words. Bitterly now she repented that
her love and fear for her husband had led her to reveal his vulnerable
spot. Nor did she dare make known to Siegfried what had passed, for he
had strictly forbidden her ever to speak thereof. She had spent the
night in terror and distress, and evil dreams had haunted her broken
slumbers; wherefore she now besought Siegfried with tears to abandon
the hunt, clinging to him as if she would never loose her hold.
“I dreamed last night that two wild boars gave thee chase,” she cried,
“and wounded thee so sorely that the grass was reddened with thy blood.
Surely that forebodes two foes that seek thy life. Ah! go not hence,
dear lord! I beseech thee, stay!”
Tenderly Siegfried embraced her and sought to calm her fears, and
knowing that he had never wrought evil to any man but had ever shown
kindness and good-will to all, he said:
“Dispel these idle fears, sweet wife! All thy kinsmen, methinks, bear
me love and favor; nor is there any that hath cause to do me ill.”
Yet still did Kriemhild weep, saying: “I dreamed again, and thou didst
stand betwixt two lofty mountain peaks that tottered to their fall. And
as I gazed they plunged together and thou wast swallowed from my sight.
Oh, trust me, lord, some dire evil will surely chance, an thou dost
hunt this day!”
Alas! had Kriemhild but confessed to Siegfried all, how different might
have been the ending of this tale! But he kissed away her tears with
loving words of comfort and she dared not speak. Once again--for the
last time upon earth--he clasped her to his heart and thus they parted.
Siegfried, mounting his horse, rode swiftly to the appointed place of
meeting.
Cheerily the huntsmen took their way to the Vosges forest, and when
they were come thither, Hagen proposed that all should separate,
whereby at the end it might be seen which was the best sportsman; and
this, in the secret hope that Siegfried’s boldness and daring might
cause him to be slain by some wild beast, for well he knew the plan he
had devised was fraught with no small danger to himself.
Siegfried asked only for a single hound to track his game and Günther
bestowed on him a well-trained beagle; whereupon he set spurs to
his horse and was soon deep in the heart of the forest. Ere-long a
huge wild boar crossed his path, and he slew it with his sword; and
thereafter a buffalo bull, an elk, four mighty mountain bulls, and
a fierce stag fell before his spear. Retainers followed and dragged
the game into one heap, while on every side sounded the notes of the
hunting horns and the joyous baying of the four-and-twenty hounds.
At length, King Günther wound his golden horn to summon the huntsmen to
a repast, and soon all were assembled in a green glade of the forest,
where a fire burned brightly and the cooks were preparing a goodly meal
of beef and venison. But Siegfried had roused a bear, and resolving
for sport to capture it alive had pursued it fast and far. At last the
brute sought shelter in a thicket, whereupon Siegfried sprang from his
saddle and, after a short struggle, had it fast by the skin of its
neck. Then he bound up the jaws with their rows of sharp teeth, wound
a cord about the paws, and laying it across his horse, set out to join
the huntsmen.
Glorious indeed to look upon was the mighty Siegfried as he rode
joyously through the green forest! Lightly he poised the stout,
keen-edged hunting-spear, and the good sword Balmung hung downward
to his spurs. He wore a silken tunic of black, glittering with gold
ornaments and bordered with sable, and a cap of the same fur, while the
lining of his quiver was of panther’s hide, the odor whereof was held
to attract the game. He also carried a long bow of rare workmanship.
When he came to the meeting-place he took the bear from his horse and
unbound it; whereupon the beast, seeking to escape, bolted in amongst
the pots and kettles and sent the terrified cooks flying hither and
thither. Thereupon a great shout arose from the amazed huntsmen; the
dogs were loosed and away they all went into the forest in pursuit
of the fleeing captive. Clear rang the horns of the hunters, loudly
bayed the furious pack; yet their quarry was like to escape them, for
none dared use bow or spear lest he should wound the hounds. Whereupon
Siegfried bounding forward soon outstripped hounds and huntsmen, and
struck the bear dead with his sword. In triumph they bore it back to
the fire, and all agreed that to Siegfried should be adjudged the
prize. Many indeed who were aware of Hagen’s fell design would fain
have had him forego the treacherous deed, yet none dared speak of this
to him, for well they knew his vengeful fury.
Soon were the huntsmen seated round the board, and ample justice did
they to the goodly viands wherewith it was spread; but Siegfried,
looking about for wine, found none at hand. Now, this was part of
Hagen’s plan, yet he excused himself when Günther questioned him
thereon, with the plea that he had erred in naming the place of the
hunt and the wine therefore had been sent to the Spessart forest.
Then Siegfried declared he could have wished they were nearer to the
Rhine, for the hunt had given him a mighty thirst. Whereupon Hagen,
assuming an air of indifference, replied:
“Most noble knight, hard by I know a cool and limpid spring, whose
waters may quench thy thirst. Let us go thither.”
Those who knew Hagen’s meaning shuddered at these words, but Siegfried
joyfully agreed. Whereat Hagen said: “Oft have I heard it said, my lord
Siegfried, that none can outstrip thee in running. Here is good ground
for proof, and I myself will race thee to yon brooklet for a wager!”
“That gladly will I do,” replied Siegfried, “and with all my armor on.”
Hagen now pointed out the spring and forth they bounded like two
panthers over the grassy plain, all the huntsmen following. Siegfried
was the swifter; coming first to the spring he laid aside his sword,
bow, and shield, and leaned his spear against a linden tree. Had he
but drunk his fill now and taken up his arms once more, all Hagen’s
base scheming would have been undone, for none had dared to assail the
hero armed and on his guard. But restraining his thirst, he waited till
Günther as sovereign prince should first have tasted of the spring. The
King was third to reach the spot, the others lagging far behind, for
upon them had come a sudden fear and trembling. Kneeling by the spring,
he drank and thereafter stooped Siegfried also to dip up the clear
cold water in his hand. Now was Hagen’s time. Swiftly and noiselessly
he bore away the hero’s sword and bow. Ill indeed had it fared with
the false knight had Siegfried marked his act; but little thought had
he of such foul plot to reward his loyalty. Seizing the spear, Hagen
hurled it with all his force at Siegfried’s back, and so well had he
marked the spot shown him by the cross Kriemhild had wrought that the
weapon pierced deep into the breast of the hero and there remained.
The shameful deed was done, and truly never was there crime on all the
earth more foul than this.
The red blood spouted from the wound upon the bow of the assassin, and
he fled; for, though wounded to the death, yet was Siegfried terrible
in his wrath. Springing to his feet, the hero sought his weapons, but
they were gone; whereupon with shield aloft he rushed after Hagen and
smote him therewith so powerfully that it burst asunder, scattering a
shower of jewels all about. Hagen was stretched upon the ground, and it
seemed his end had come. But now the strength fled from Siegfried, a
deadly pallor overspread his countenance, and he sank upon the ground,
his life blood staining the grass and flowers crimson. Then Hagen arose
and drew nigh, his dark features lit with savage joy at the success of
his evil work.
Günther, too, approached, and after him came the rest of the huntsmen,
and a deathly stillness reigned as all gazed upon the dying hero. At
last Siegfried broke the silence. In noble wrath he spoke:
“Ye dastards! to slay me from behind, and this as meed for all the
service I have rendered you!”
The glance of the hero, wounded unto death, appalled the stoutest
hearts; rough cheeks were wet with tears; and even from Günther’s
breast was forced a cry of anguish. But Siegfried was not deceived
thereby. Clearly now he saw the whole treacherous plot.
“Too late is it now, King Günther of Burgundy, to bewail the evil thou
thyself hast wrought; better for thee had it been left undone.”
And Hagen with a scornful glance at his comrades cried fiercely:
“Fools! Wherefore, then, do ye lament? Is not this an end to all our
discontent? Well was it that I had the will to do the deed against your
craven counsel!”
Again the hero spoke, although his voice grew faint: “Vaunt not thyself
too much my lord, Hagen! Had I but known thee for the base assassin
that thou art, thy schemes had been of small avail against me. For
naught I grieve save Kriemhild, my true and loving wife, and that my
son must one day learn how his sire was foully slain by his nearest
kin.”
All grew dark before his eyes, yet still his thoughts were with his
wife; her name the last upon his lips. “If aught there yet be within
thy breast of faith or loyalty,” he said to Günther, “then be thou true
unto thy sister Kriemhild! My father and my brave knights now, alas,
will wait for me in vain. Oh, never yet hath man so basely dealt by his
true friend as thou by me!”
Thereupon the death struggle seized him, but it was soon over; his eyes
grew dim, and the soul of the mighty Siegfried took its flight.
When they saw that he was dead, they laid his body on a golden shield
upon which to bear it away, and thereafter they took counsel as to what
should be done. Some thought it well to say that thieves had slain King
Siegfried, but Hagen spoke out boldly, saying:
“I myself will take him back to Worms. It is naught to me if Kriemhild
learns ’twas by my hand he died. He defamed our Queen, and for that
wrong his life has paid the price, forsooth. Little care I for
Kriemhild’s tears or moans.”
So they waited till the pale moon stood high in the heavens, and then,
bearing the corpse of Siegfried, King Günther and his companions once
more crossed the Rhine.
_Chapter XVII_
_Kriemhild’s Grief_
Hagen had bethought him of a plan to make his terrible revenge
complete, by leaving Kriemhild to find the body of her lord before her
door. And so it was, for, when at daybreak the bells for matins sounded
from the minster spire and Kriemhild awakened her women to go with her
to service as was their wont, the chamberlain coming to attend them
saw the body without her chamber. Thereupon the door opened and the
Queen would have come forth, but the chamberlain, raising his torch to
light the passage, warned her to go back, till he should have borne
the body thence. But Kriemhild straightway divining what had befallen,
uttered a loud shriek and fell senseless to the ground. When she had
come to herself again her women sought to calm her, saying the corpse
was surely of some stranger knight, but Kriemhild, wringing her hands,
cried out:
“Ah no! it is my lord, foully slain by Günther, and Brunhild it was who
urged him to the deed!”
Bending over the lifeless form, while the chamberlain lowered his
torch, she gently lifted the head and laid it on her knee; and
therewith, disfigured as the noble features were, she knew it for her
husband.
“Woe is me!” she cried, “by no good sword stroke hath his shield been
shattered. ’Twas a murderer’s hand that laid my Siegfried low!”
Thereupon she caused the Nibelungs to be awakened and a messenger
despatched to Siegmund. The aged King had passed a sleepless night
so fearful was he for his son; yet this terrible news he could not
credit, but hastened to Kriemhild only to find her in an agony of
grief, surrounded by her weeping women. When the Nibelungs came and saw
the lifeless body of their King, they cried aloud in bitter wrath and
woe, and drawing their swords, would have avenged his death forthwith;
but Kriemhild restrained them, and there before them all she took a
solemn oath never to rest till she had found the murderer and wrought
vengeance upon him for the bloody deed.
Then Siegfried’s wounds were washed, his body clothed in costly
garments and raised upon a bier, and thereafter borne to the cathedral
amid tolling of bells and chanting of hymns, while all the people
flocked to look upon the hero and join in bewailing his death. Thither
too came Günther and Hagen with a great show of grief and horror,
to join the mourners. But Kriemhild bade her brother cease his
lamentations, since but for him her husband then had been alive.
Günther stoutly denied this, and swore that Siegfried had been slain
by robbers in the forest; whereupon Kriemhild demanded that he and all
his followers should singly approach the bier. Günther and his two
brothers strode past it in silence; then came Hagen, and when he stood
beside the corpse, lo! the wounds began to bleed afresh. Again Günther
maintained that they were innocent, but Kriemhild, fixing her gaze full
on Hagen, cried aloud in grief and wrath:
“Now do I know his murderer!”
A great coffin, long and wide, of silver and gold embossed with knobs
of steel, was made ready and therein, wrapped in a winding sheet of
richest silk, Siegfried’s body was laid. For three days and nights it
rested in the minster, and Kriemhild watched beside it. She neither ate
nor drank, but besought God to have pity on her and let her also die,
that she might be laid with her husband in the tomb.
On the third day the funeral rites were held; and when they were ended,
Kriemhild caused the coffin lid to be raised, and in an agony of grief
embraced the corpse of her beloved and kissed the pale lips for the
last time. Swooning she was borne away; and thereupon, amid tolling of
bells and the sobs of the multitude, was the mighty hero laid to rest
within the minster vault.
After some days had passed, Siegmund sought Kriemhild and said to her:
“Now let us depart to our own land, my daughter; for here methinks we
are but unwelcome guests.”
But thereon came Gernot and Giselher, the King’s two brothers, who were
guiltless of the death of Siegfried, and with loving words besought her
to abide with them.
For a time Kriemhild hesitated, but the thought of departing from the
burial place of her beloved spouse cost her such pangs that at the last
she yielded and promised her brothers to remain in Worms. Siegmund bade
farewell to none but Kriemhild, and bowed with grief, the aged King and
his faithful Nibelungs mounted their steeds and rode away from the land
of the Burgundians, never to return.
_Chapter XVIII_
_The Nibelung Hoard_