“This should all have been yours, if you had not brought that little
fool into the house. I will go, and take my wealth to the king.”
“I have slain him and his men,” said Samson quietly; but he looked so
stern that his mother changed colour, and muttered,—
“Very well then, I will go and seek an heir who will give both me and
my treasures house-room.”
Three times Samson’s hand sought sword and dagger, but he mastered his
anger, and rode away through the dark pine forest to his home.
When he got there, he found Hildeswid hard at work with her maidens.
“Wife,” he said, going up to her, “my mother betrayed me for love of
gold—my sword and dagger both thirsted for her blood—but I would not,
could not slay her. If _you_ are false to me—then—they _must_ do
their work.”
He looked terrible in his wrath, but she took off his helmet and coat
of mail, kissed him and led him to his seat. And he at once grew
gentle, and told her that he wanted to win glory and honour for her
sake, and that he hoped soon to see her acknowledged queen of her
father’s realm.
When the death of Rodgeier was made known in Salern by the only one of
his men who had escaped to tell the tale, a Thing was summoned in order
that a new ruler might be chosen. The votes were all in favour of
Brunstein, brother of the late king, a man of great wisdom in counsel,
and a lover of justice. There would now have been peace in the realm,
had it not been for Samson, who made raids into the land and carried
off cattle and supplies. So Brunstein called together all the bravest
warriors of his own and other lands, and made them lay their hands in
his and swear to take Samson alive or dead, or themselves die in the
attempt. Then, led by the king, they set out and rode over mountains
and plains and through the dark forest, and all without finding the
object of their search. One evening they reached a strong fortress, and
being very tired, rested there for the night. After supper they went to
bed and slept. Every one slept, even the guards, when they had
carefully locked and bolted the great gates.
That night Samson came. Finding he could not break the gates, he set
fire to them, and while they were still burning, pulled them down, and
leaped into the place. The watchmen awoke and blew their horns; but as
there were many thatched roofs within the walls, all of which caught
fire, the king and his men naturally thought a large army had broken in
upon them, and were filled with terror. The gigantic figure of Black
Samson appearing now here, now there, amongst the flames, added to
their fear, and all that were left of them took refuge in flight.
The king, followed by six faithful attendants, made his way into the
forest, and after riding a long time came in sight of a goodly grange.
He entered, and found that the mistress of the house was his niece
Hildeswid. He asked after Samson, but she said he was out. He then
begged her to leave her husband and go with him; but she refused,
advising him to go away as quickly as he could, lest he should fall
into his enemy’s hands.
Brunstein confessed that she was right, and took his departure, but it
was even then too late. Samson had returned, and, seeing them, at once
set out in pursuit. No courage or strength, however great, could avail
against his terrible arm. Brunstein and five of his warriors fell never
to rise again, while the sixth got away with great difficulty and not
without severe wounds. Samson started in pursuit. When he got out of
the wood, he saw thirty horsemen galloping towards him. On their
banner, a lion was displayed on a golden field.
“So, ho,” cried the hero, “you are Amelungs. Welcome, Uncle Dietmar. I
rejoice to see you and your men.”
When they had rested and refreshed themselves in Samson’s grange,
Dietmar explained, that having heard that his nephew was outlawed and
in need of help, he had come to visit him and see whether he could be
of any use. Samson was much pleased, and announced his intention of
taking the open field now that he was no longer alone in the world. So
he and his companions set out next morning. No one ventured to oppose
him, and he soon had so large a district under his command that he was
able to take up the powers and dignity of duke. After that he made his
way towards Salern, and sent on messengers to desire the citizens to
elect him king, under pain of having their town and possessions burnt
about their ears.
After much conferring together, the burghers came to the conclusion
that they could not do better than obey; for while Samson had been
their friend, their town had been more flourishing than at any other
time. So they sent to beg him to come and rule over them.
When the hero found that all was going as he wished, he sent for his
wife, and, side by side, they rode into Salern, where they were
received with acclamation.
The new ruler governed with a strong hand, and administered justice
equally to all, both high and low. He showed a grateful remembrance of
every kindness he had met with in his adversity, and kept peace on his
borders. He grew old in the punctual fulfilment of these duties; and
when he felt that he was no longer strong enough to do the work alone,
he appointed his eldest son to be his assistant and successor. But he
did not like it to be supposed that he was too old and weak to be of
use; and so when his second son asked him what share he was to have in
the royal heritage, he answered him nothing, but called together the
whole army and made them an address.
He told them that when he was young every one had sought to do great
deeds, but now people had grown lazy. The long peace, that had brought
material blessing on the realm, had also brought the curse of a love of
ease and pleasure; and for fear this evil should increase, and the
country become an easy prey to some greedy neighbour, he summoned every
warrior to appear before him in three months’ time, each accompanied by
his men, and bearing a courageous heart within his breast, for he was
going to lead them against a powerful foe.
The same day that Samson made this announcement to his army, he wrote a
letter to the proud yarl Elsung of Bern (Verona), a man of about his
own age, and with an equal love of great and heroic deeds. In this
letter he demanded that Elsung should pay him tribute as his liege
lord, and should give his daughter, Odilia, to his second son. All this
he demanded as a right, due from a vassal to his king.
When the yarl read the letter, he was very angry, and made immediate
preparations for war. He began by ordering five of Samson’s ambassadors
to be hung on the spot, and the sixth to be sent back to his master
with his tongue cut out.
No sooner were the three months over than King Samson started for Bern
at the head of his men.
The armies met, and there was a great battle. The slaughter on either
side was hideous. At length Samson’s wondrous strength enabled him to
slay the yarl, and gain the victory. The Bernese, seeing that their
ruler was dead, thought it most prudent to choose Samson for their
king, and thus put an end to all ill-feeling between the two nations.
When this business was settled, the victor sent for the yarl’s
daughter, Odilia, and told her that he intended her to be the wife of
his second son, to whom he was going to make over her father’s realm.
The maiden wept, and said that she could not marry so soon after her
father’s death; but Samson’s rage at meeting with contradiction was so
terrible, that the girl in mortal fear consented to wed the prince. His
berserker wrath appeased by her obedience, the king at once regained
his usual genial manner, kissed her, and assured her of his protection.
The marriage arranged, Samson set out on his return to his own land,
accompanied by his eldest son. Before he had gone very far, he felt his
wounds painful. They would not heal, and caused him so much suffering
that he had to halt at a little town on the way, and there he died,
naming his youngest son ruler of the Rhineland, with Fritilaburg as his
residence.
[Illustration: DIETWART DEFENDS THE PRINCESS.]