He slew, four strong ure-oxen, and last a savage shelk.
No beast, how swift soever, could leave his steed behind;
Scarcely their speed could profit the flying hart or hind.
XXIII
Next the sagacious limer a monstrous wild boar trac'd;
Just then the master-hunter came sudden up in haste,
And cross'd his path undaunted as he to fly began.
Straight the churning monster at his opponent ran.
XXIV
Then forward sprung Sir Siegfried, and with his sword him slew;
Such feat, I ween, no hunter besides had dared to do.
Then leash'd they the good limehound, and from the thicket led,
And told all the Burgundians how Siegfried's chase had sped.
XXV
Then said his merry huntsmen, "Sir Siegfried, be so kind
As not our wood to empty, but leave some game behind.
There'll else be nothing living on mountain or on wold."
The champion at their jesting his laughter scarce could hold.
XXVI
They heard then all about them, throughout those forest grounds,
Such shouting and such baying of huntsmen and of hounds,
That hill and wood re-echoed with the wild uproar.
Th' attendants had uncoupled four and twenty dogs or more.
XXVII
Then full many a monster was doom'd his last to groan.
They thought with glad expectance to challenge for their own
The praise for the best hunting; but lower sunk their pride,
When to the tryst-fire shortly they saw Sir Siegfried ride.
XXVIII
The hunting now was over for the most part at least;
Game was brought in plenty and skins of many a beast
To the place of meeting, and laid the hearth before.
Ah! to the busy kitchen what full supplies they bore!
XXIX
Then bade Gunther summon the noble hunting crew
To the royal breakfast; a horn a huntsman blew
That far and wide re-echoed, and told to all around
That by the tryst-fire ready the king was to be found.
XXX
Said one of Siegfried's huntsmen, "I heard a warning blast,
That thrilling horn assures me our hunting time is past;
We must back to our fellows; answer it will I."
So through the wood resounding rang question and reply.
XXXI
Then spake the good Sir Siegfried, "Well! let us leave the wood."
His courser bore him smoothly, fast prick'd his comrades good.
With their noise they rous'd a monster, a wild bear fierce and grim.
Said Siegfried o'er his shoulder to those who follow'd him,
XXXII
"Now, comrades, look for pastime! see you yon thicket there?
Slip the dog directly; I spy a monstrous bear.
The same shall instant with us hence to the trysting-place.
To get off in safety swift he indeed must pace."
XXXIII
Straight they slipp'd the limer; off leapt the bear with speed;
Sir Siegfried thought to catch him through swiftness of his steed.
He came on fallen timber, so thus it could not be;
Then deem'd himself the monster from his fierce hunter free.
XXXIV
Down sprang from horse Sir Siegfried, and plied on foot the chase;
Naught then could aid the monster o'ermaster'd in the race.
Sir Siegfried strongly seized him, and cast a rope around,
And, ere he once could wound him, the struggling bear he bound.
XXXV
So fast the warrior bound him, he could nor scratch nor bite,
Then tied him to the saddle, and after mounted light.
So to the tryst-fire laughing with his snorting load,
By way of sport and pastime, the fearless warrior rode.
XXXVI
In his state how lordly thither he came along!
Huge was his mighty boar-spear, weighty and broad and strong;
To his spur descended the good sword that he wore;
Of ruddy gold fair glittering a hunting horn he bore.
XXXVII
Of better hunting-vesture never heard I tell.
His coat of darkest samite became the warrior well.
His cap of richest sable sat with a careless grace,
And his death-fraught quiver was bound with many a lace.
XXXVIII
With the skin of a panther the same was cover'd o'er
For its balmy sweetness; a strong bow too he bore,
Which none but with a windlass could draw, howe'er he strove,
Unless himself was present at the mark to rove.
XXXIX
All his outer garment was of a lynx's hide,
From head to foot with cunning 'twas speckled all and pied.
On either side descending of the master-hunter bold
From the rich fur there glitter'd many a bright thread of gold.
XL
Girded he was with Balmung, a broad and mighty blade,
With such keen cutting edges, that straight its way it made
Where'er it smote on helmet, and thousands did to die.
'Sooth was the lordly hunter of bearing proud and high.
XLI
Besides (of this my story to tell you every part)
Fraught was his splendid quiver with many a dreary dart;
The shaft of each was gilded, a hand's-breadth was the steel.
'Twas death of those grim arrows a single wound to feel.
XLII
So stately from the forest rode on the noble knights;
The men of Gunther mark'd him soon as he came in sight,
And ran, and held his courser, and gave him tendance fair.
Meanwhile close to the saddle lay bound the groaning bear.
XLIII
The knight, from horse alighting, soft the band untied
That bound his paws and muzzle; straight when the bear they spied,
All the pack of yelpers open'd on him loud.
The beast made for the forest, scattering the startled crowd.
XLIV
Scared by the din and uproar he through the kitchen rac'd.
Ah! how the cooks and scullions from round the fire he chas'd!
Upset were pans and kettles, and store of savory hashes,
Roast, boil'd, and stew'd together were hissing in the ashes.
XLV
From their seats upstarted the lords and all the band;
The bear flew into fury; straight gave the king command
The hounds to uncouple, and slip them on the prey.
Had it all thus ended, it had been a merry day.
XLVI
With bows and mighty boar-spears (no more was quiet there)
Upsprung the light-foot warriors and chas'd the flying bear.
The dogs there were so many, none dar'd a dart to fling.
With shouting and hallooing they made the mountains ring.
XLVII
Before the dogs he scamper'd; they follow'd where he led;
But 'twas the swift-foot Siegfried that caught him as he fled.
Once with his sword he smote him; he wallow'd in his gore.
Back to the scatter'd tryst-fire his friends the monster bore.
XLVIII
Loud shouted each beholder that 'twas a matchless blow.
Now the high-born hunters were bidden to table go.
Down in a flowery meadow sat they right merrily.
Ah! what dainty viands cheer'd that proud company!
XLIX
Still delay'd the attendants the ruddy wine to pour.
Never else were warriors better serv'd before.
But for the heinous treason with which they fram'd their plot,
All that choice band of champions were free from blame or blot.
L
Then said the noble Siegfried, "I needs must wonder here,
That joyous wine is wanting with such abundant cheer.
When so o'erflows the kitchen, how is't the cellar's dry?
Treat merry hunters better, or hunt no more will I.
LI
"I have deserv'd in Rhineland more hospitable care."
Then answering from the table spoke Gunther false and fair.
"This fault shall soon be mended, and reason done you first.
For this we may thank Hagan, who makes us die of thirst."
LII
Then said the Chief of Trony, "My lord and master dear,
I thought that this day's hunting was not to be held here,
But in the wood of Spessart, so thither sent the wine.
The like shall never happen again by fault of mine."
LIII
Then said the Netherlander, "Little thank I such care.
I look'd for seven good sumpters to mend our thirsty fare
With mead and wine of spices; if so we could not dine,
Better by far have placed us close beside the Rhine."
LIV
Then spake the Chief of Trony, "Ye noble knights and bold,
I know just to our wishes a runnel clear and cold
Close by, so be not angry, but thither let us go."
Th' advice brought many a champion sorrow and mortal woe.
LV
Yet could not then his danger the death-doom'd hero spy.
Little thought he so foully by seeming friends to die.
His heart knew naught of falsehood; 'twas open, frank and plain.
For his death dear paid thereafter who fondly hop'd to gain.
LVI
The noble knight Sir Siegfried with thirst was sore opprest,
So earlier rose from table, and could no longer rest, But straight would
to the mountain the running brook to find,
And so advanc'd the treason his faithless foes design'd.
LVII
Meanwhile were slowly lifted on many a groaning wain
The beasts in that wild forest by Siegfried's manhood slain.
Each witness gave him honor, and loud his praises spoke.
Alas! that with him Hagan his faith so foully broke.
LVIII
Now when to the broad linden they all would take their way,
Thus spake the fraudful Hagan, "Full oft have I heard say,
That none a match in swiftness for Kriemhild's lord can be,
Whene'er to race he pleases; would he grant us this to see?"
LIX
Then spake the Netherlander, Siegfried with open heart,
"Well then! let's make the trial! together we will start
From hence to yonder runnel; let us at once begin,
And he shall pass for winner who shall be seen to win."
LX
"Agreed!" said treacherous Hagan, "let us each other try."
Thereto rejoin'd stout Siegfried, "And if you pass me by,
Down at your feet I'll lay me humbled on the grass."
When these words heard Gunther, what joy could his surpass?
LXI
Then said the fearless champion, "And this I tell you more,
I'll carry all th' equipment that in the chase I wore,
My spear, my shield, my vesture--leave will I nothing out."
His sword then and his quiver he girt him quick about.
LXII
King Gunther and Sir Hagan to strip were nothing slow;
Both for the race stood ready in shirts as white as snow.
Long bounds, like two wild panthers, o'er the grass they took,
But seen was noble Siegfried before them at the brook.
LXIII
Whate'er he did, the warrior high o'er his fellows soar'd.
Now laid he down his quiver, and quick ungirt his sword.
Against the spreading linden he lean'd his mighty spear.
So by the brook stood waiting the chief without a peer.
LXIV
In every lofty virtue none with Sir Siegfried vied.
Down he laid his buckler by the water's side.
For all the thirst that parch'd him, one drop he never drank
Till the king had finish'd; he had full evil thank.
LXV
Cool was the little runnel, and sparkled clear as glass.
O'er the rill King Gunther knelt down upon the grass.
When he his draught had taken he rose and stepp'd aside.
Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.
LXVI
Dear paid he for his courtesy; his bow, his matchless blade,
His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord convey'd,
Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear,
And to find out the token survey'd his vesture near;
LXVII
Then, as to drink Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found,
He pierc'd him through the crosslet, that sudden from the wound
Forth the life-blood spouted e'en o'er his murderer's weed.
Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.
LXVIII
Between his shoulders sticking he left the deadly spear.
Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear,
As from the matchless champion whom he had butcher'd there.
Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware,
LXIX
Up he from the runnel started as he were wood.
Out from betwixt his shoulders his own huge boar-spear stood.
He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true.
The traitor for his treason had then receiv'd his due.
LXX
But, ah! the deadly wounded nor sword nor quiver found;
His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground.
This from the bank he lifted and straight at Hagan ran;
Him could not then by fleetness escape King Gunther's man.
LXXI
E'en to the death though wounded, he hurl'd it with such power,
That the whirling buckler scatter'd wide a shower
Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke.
Full gladly had the warrior ta'en vengeance with that stroke.
LXXII
E'en as it was, his manhood fierce Hagan level'd low.
Loud, all around, the meadow rang with the wondrous blow.
Had he in hand good Balmung, the murderer he had slain.
His wound was sore upon him; he writh'd in mortal pain.
LXXIII
His lively color faded; a cloud came o'er his sight;
He could stand no longer; melted all his might;
In his paling visage the mark of death he bore.
Soon many a lovely lady sorrow'd for him sore.
LXXIV
So the lord of Kriemhild among the flowerets fell.
From the wound fresh gushing his heart's blood fast did well.
Then thus amidst his tortures, e'en with his failing breath,
The false friends he upbraided who had contriv'd his death.
LXXV
Thus spake the deadly wounded, "Ay! cowards false as hell!
To you I still was faithful; I serv'd you long and well;--
But what boots all?--for guerdon treason and death I've won,
By your friends vile traitors! foully have you done.
LXXVI
"Whoever shall hereafter from your loins be born,
Shall take from such vile fathers a heritage of scorn.
On me you have wreak'd malice where gratitude was due.
With shame shall you be banish'd by all good knights and true."
LXXVII
Thither ran all the warriors where in his blood he lay.
To many of that party sure 'twas a joyless day.
Whoe'er were true and faithful, they sorrow'd for his fall.
So much the peerless champion had merited of all.
LXXVIII
With them the false King Gunther bewept his timeless end.
Then spake the deadly wounded, "Little it boots your friend
Yourself to plot his murder, and then the deed deplore.
Such is a shameful sorrow; better at once 'twere o'er."
LXXIX
Then spake the low'ring Hagan, "I know not why you moan.
Our cares all and suspicions are now for ever flown.
Who now are left, against us who'll dare to make defence?
Well's me, for all this weeping, that I have rid him hence."
LXXX
"Small cause hast thou," said Siegfried, "to glory in my fate.
Had I ween'd, thy friendship cloak'd such murderous hate,
From such as thou full lightly could I have kept my life.
Now grieve I but for Kriemhild, my dear, my widow'd wife.
LXXXI
"Now may God take pity, that e'er I had a son,
Who this reproach must suffer from deed so foully done,
That by his murderous kinsmen his father thus was slain.
Had I but time to finish, of this I well might plain.
LXXXII
"Surely so base a murder the world did never see,"
Said he, and turn'd to Gunther, "as you have done on me.
I sav'd your life and honor from shame and danger fell,
And thus am I requited by you I serv'd so well."
LXXXIII
Then further spake the dying, and speaking sigh'd full deep,
"Oh king! if thou a promise with anyone wilt keep,
Let me in this last moment thy grace and favor find
For my dear love and lady, the wife I leave behind.
LXXXIV
"Remember, she's thy sister, yield her a sister's right,
Guard her with faith and honor, as thou'rt a king and knight.
My father and my followers for me they long must wait,
Comrade ne'er found from comrade so sorrowful a fate."
LXXXV
In his mortal anguish he writh'd him to and fro,
And then said, deadly groaning, "This foul and murderous blow
Deep will ye rue hereafter; this for sure truth retain,
That in slaying Siegfried you yourselves have slain."
LXXXVI
With blood were all bedabbled the flowerets of the field.
Some time with death he struggled, as though he scorn'd to yield
E'en to the foe, whose weapon strikes down the loftiest head.
At last prone in the meadow lay mighty Siegfried dead.
LXXXVII
When now the chiefs were certain that dead was the good knight,
They laid him on a buckler with gold all richly dight,
Then counsel took together the general to mislead,
And keep the shameful secret that Hagan did the deed.
LXXXVIII
Then many said, repenting, "This deed will prove our bale;
Still let us shroud the secret, and all keep in one tale,
That the good lord of Kriemhild to hunt alone preferr'd,
And so was slain by robbers as through the wood he spurr'd."
LXXXIX
"I'll bring him home, and gladly," said Hagan, frowning stern;
"As to his wife, I reck not whether the truth she learn,
Who slander'd gentle Brunhild, and wrought her so much ill.
I care not for her weeping, do she whate'er she will."
XC
Of that same little runnel where Siegfried murder'd fell,
The true and rightful story you now shall hear me tell.
In th' Odenwald is a village, Odenheim is its name.
There still the brook is running; doubt not it is the same.
SEVENTEENTH ADVENTURE
HOW SIEGFRIED WAS BEWAILED AND BURIED
I
Till nightfall there they tarried, and then the Rhine recross'd;
Never yet hunted warriors at such a grievous cost.
Many a fair lady sorrow'd for a hart they slew that day;
The life of many a champion must for that hunting pay.
II
Of overweening outrage now must tell my strain,
And dire revenge remorseless; the dead, thus foully slain,
As though athirst for horrors, Hagan bade bear away,
And cast before the chamber where unweeting Kriemhild lay.
III
He bade his followers darkling down lay him at the door,
That she might surely find him, as she stepp'd the threshold o'er.
Going forth to matins ere the dawn of day,
For from a single service she seldom kept away.
IV
The minster bells were ringing at th' early 'custom'd hour.
Upstarted then fair Kriemhild, and wak'd each maid in bower.
For light she call'd and vesture that she might straight be gown'd.
A chamberlain hasten'd thither, and there Sir Siegfried found.
V
He saw him blood-bespatter'd, with weed all dabbled o'er;
He knew not 'twas his master stretch'd on the reeking floor;
In went he to the chamber; with him the light he took,
By which on such deep horror sad Kriemhild was to look.
VI
As she now with her maidens to church would take her way,
The chamberlain bespoke her; "Lady, a little stay;
A murder'd knight is lying close before the sill."
"O woe!" cried fearful Kriemhild, "what means this tale of ill?"
VII
Ere yet she could see clearly 'twas her lord who lay there lay slain,
The question put by Hagan rush'd to her mind again,
How he could guard her husband; then anguish first she felt.
From his death for ever with lingering grief she dwelt.
VIII
To earth down sank she senseless, that not a word she spoke.
There lay the fair, the friendless, beneath that mortal stroke.
Then, from her swoon reviving, up from the ground she sprang,
And shriek'd so shrill and sudden, that all the chamber rang.
IX
Then said her trembling maidens, "What stranger here lies slain?"
From her mouth a bloody torrent burst through heart-quelling pain.
"No, no!" said she, "'tis Siegfried, my love, that there lies low.
'Twas Brunhild gave the counsel, and Hagan struck the blow."
X
Thither where the corpse was lying, her maids their lady led;
With her lily hand, all trembling, she raised his languish'd head;
Howe'er with blood 'twas dabbled, her lord at once she knew.
There lay the Chief of Netherland, a piteous sight to view.
XI
Then weeping thus and wailing the queen her sorrows pour'd;
"Woe's me, woe's me for ever! sure no fair foeman's sword
Shiver'd thy failing buckler; 'twas murder stopp'd thy breath;
O that I knew who did it! death I'd requite with death."
XII
Then wept and wail'd full shrilly her gentle maidens all
With their beloved mistress; woe were they for the fall
Of their noble master there in his blood embrued.
Hagan the wrath of Brunhild had wreak'd with deadly feud.
XIII
Then spake the sorrow-laden, "Go hence with your best speed,
Quick call up Siegfried's liegemen, his warriors good at need;
To Siegmund, too, let tidings of my deep loss be borne,
That he may help his daughter his murder'd son to mourn."
XIV
A messenger ran quickly, and came where slept the band
Of Siegfried's chosen champions from the Nibelunger's land.
Their merry cheer his tidings chang'd to sorrow deep.
His tale they would not credit until they saw him weep.
XV
Thence quickly came he running where aged Siegmund lay
From the king's aching eyelids sweet sleep was far away.
His heart, I ween, foreboded the deed that had been done,
And that the childless father no more should see his son.
XVI
"Wake, wake! Sir King! Sir Siegmund! Kriemhild, my lady dear,
In haste hath sent me hither; she's plung'd in doleful drear;
Woe, that all woe surpasses, wrings her inmost heart.
Help her to mourn the misery, whereof you own a part."
XVII
Then said the king, half-rising, "What has happ'd of woe
To the fair Lady Kriemhild, which here thou com'st to show?"
"Alas!" replied he weeping, "concealment here is vain;
The noble Netherlander, Siegfried, thy son, is slain."
XVIII
Then said the good King Siegmund, "Leave off such idle sport; For my sake
spread no further this mischievous report.
Were't true indeed that Siegfried my son were made away,
Ne'er could I cease from wailing e'en to my dying day."
XIX
"If me you will not credit, but still will doubt my tale,
Hark then yourself to Kriemhild, hear her so wildly wail,
Her and her band of maidens, for noble Siegfried dead."
Then sorely shudder'd Siegmund; deep cause had he for dread.
XX
Straight from his bed up sprang he, and his hundred warriors too;
Their long sharp-edged weapons with hasty hand they drew.
Where they heard the wailing, headlong they thither ran;
Thither too Siegfried's thousand, each a chosen man,
XXI
Led by the shrieks of horror, ran with like eager speed.
Some of the household fancied, they came for funeral weed.
Well might they be confounded, and from their senses start.
The sting of deadly sorrow was deep in every heart.
XXII
Then said the good King Siegmund, when Kriemhild he had seen,
"Woe worth our journey hither! would it had never been!
'Midst such good friends and kinsmen, who has this murder done,
Which thee hath cost thy husband, and me, alas! my son?"
XXIII
The noble lady answer'd, "Could I the murderer find,
I'd wreak on him such vengeance with all my heart and mind,
That all his friends should sorrow at the woful tale,
While they had eyes for weeping, while they had tongues to wail."
XXIV
His arms round the dead champion Sir Siegmund trembling threw;
Thereat so loud the sorrow of each beholder grew,
That the proud hall of Gunther and the palace high
And Worms, through all his quarters, rung to the thrilling cry.
XXV
But none there could bring comfort to Siegfried's lady true.
Out from his bloodied vesture his comely limbs they drew,
And wash'd his wound wide-gaping, and laid him on the bier.
Woe were his weeping followers through heart-consuming drear.
XXVI
Out then spake his warriors from the Nibelungers' land;
"Revenge will we our master each with his own good hand
This very house must harbor him who has done the deed."
Then hasten'd Siegfried's meiny to don their warlike weed.
XXVII
Now did the chosen squadron each with his buckler stand,
Eleven hundred champions; at head of all the band
Was seen the reverend Siegmund; to faith and honor true
Fain would he take vengeance on those who Siegfried slew.
XXVIII
With whom they were to battle they could not yet discern,
Unless it were with Gunther and his Burgundians stern,
For with them did Siegfried to the fatal hunting go.
When Kriemhild saw them weapon'd, 'twas ill on ill, 'twas woe on woe.
XXIX
However deep her anguish, however great her need,
She fear'd to see her followers the Nibelungers bleed
Beneath her brother's numbers; so, their stout minds to bend,
She gave them gentle counsel, as friend should deal with friend.
XXX
Thus said the mournful lady, "Siegmund, my lord, give ear.
What is it you are doing? some rash resolve I fear.
King Gunther has about him full many a man of might;
You and all must perish in such unequal fight."
XXXI
Each had bound on his buckler; each held his sword in hand;
They yearn'd for blood and vengeance; with prayer and with command
She press'd th' impatient warriors to choose the milder part;
They call'd for instant battle; that cut her to the heart.
XXXII
She spake, "My good lord Siegmund, lay thoughts of vengeance by
Till some more fitting season; then with you fain will I
Revenge my murder'd husband; could I but come to know
Who has made me thus a widow, woe should be his for woe.
XXXIII
"Many are the haughty warriors here on the banks of Rhine,
So keep peace for the present; such sure advice is mine;
The match is too unequal, thirty at least to one;
God do to them hereafter as they to us have done.
XXXIV
"Stay here, and in my sorrow be pleas'd a part to take,
Mine and my lord's revengers, till day begin to break,
And help me then to coffin my lord who there lies low."
Then all the warriors answer'd, "Dear lady, be it so."
XXXV
In sooth it was a wonder that none can tell aright,
How wept and loud lamented many a dame and many a knight,
That e'en unto the city the rueful wail was borne;
In haste the noble burghers came when they heard them mourn.
XXXVI
They with the guests lamented, for sore they griev'd as well.
What was the offence of Siegfried, none of them could tell,
For which by stroke so sudden the chief had lost his life.
There with the high-born ladies wept each good burgher's wife.
XXXVII