Then in his gloomy silence strode off the warrior proud.
Still higher up the river along the shore he hied,
Until a lonely hostel on th' other bank he spied.
XLV
He straight across the water 'gan call with all his might,
"Come, carry me over, ferryman," shouted the lusty knight.
"Of ruddy gold an armlet I'll give thee for thy meed.
Come, carry me, well thou knowest how pressing is my need."
XLVI
The ferryman was wealthy, to serve he scarce could bear,
And hence it seldom happened he deign'd to take a fare.
His men were like their master, as moody and misproud.
Still on this side Sir Hagan stood ever shouting loud.
XLVII
So loud and strong he shouted, that all the water rung,
While the deep-chested warrior thus thunder'd from his tongue,
"Come, put me o'er, I'm Amelrich, who Elsy serv'd and sued,
The same who from this country fled for a mortal feud."
XLVIII
High on his sword an armlet held out the champion bold
(Bright was it and glittering and ruddy all with gold)
That he might be put over thence into Gelfrat's land.
Then took the burly boatman himself an oar in hand.
XLIX
He was in sooth, that boatman, an ill-condition'd elf.
Nothing leads men to ruin like hankering after pelf.
He thought by ferrying Hagan his ruddy gold to get;
A sword-stroke for an armlet, and death for gain he met.
L
With sinewy might the boatman row'd o'er to yonder strand,
But not the man he heard of sprung to the boat from land.
The ferryman wax'd furious when Hagan there he found;
Thus he bespake the hero, and speaking darkly frown'd.
LI
"Your name it may be Amelrich for ought I know," said he,
"But you're like him I look'd for as little as can be.
In sooth he was my brother, by father and mother's side
You've put a trick upon me, so on this bank shall bide."
LII
"Nay, think again, for heaven's sake," Sir Hagan made reply,
"In pain for sundry comrades a foreign knight am I;
So take my fare contented, and kindly put me o'er;
You'll bind me to your service, your friend for evermore."
LIII
"No, no," replied the ferryman, "it must not, faith, be so;
My good lords all around them have many a deadly foe;
For this, I ne'er put over strangers into this land,
So, as your life you value, out with you to the strand."
LIV
"Nay, speak not so," said Hagan, "you see my drooping cheer;
Take of me, and welcome, the gold I hand you here,
And ferry a thousand horses and as many knights of pride."
"That will I do never," the ferryman grim replied.
LV
With the word up caught he an oar both broad and long,
And lent the knight a buffet so sturdy and so strong,
That in the boat he brought him at once upon his knee.
Such a boisterous boatman never before met he.
LVI
Yet more the haughty stranger to wrath would he provoke,
So on the head of Hagan a boat-pole next he broke,
The ferryman of Elsy was sure a lusty wight,
Yet naught but loss and ruin got he by all his might.
LVII
The grim knight up starting ended soon the fray;
To the sheath quick gripp'd he wherein his weapon lay.
Off he his head has smitten, and to the bottom thrown.
Soon were the glad tidings to the bold Burgundians known.
LVIII
The boat meanwhile, ere Hagan its master yet had slain,
Had dropp'd into the current; this wrought him mickle pain,
For ere he round could bring it, faint he to wax began,
Yet strongly row'd and stoutly King Gunther's large-limb'd man.
LIX
The brawny stranger turn'd it with many a sturdy stroke,
Till in his grasp o'ermaster'd the oar asunder broke.
He long'd to reach his comrades at a near landing-place,
But oar had ne'er another, so this he join'd apace.
LX
With a shield-thong together (poor cord, but workman good!)
And then adown the river made for a neighboring wood.
There his good lords the warrior found waiting on the strand;
Many a bold knight ran toward him as he drew nigh the land.
LXI
Him well his comrades greeted beside the foamy flood,
But when they saw the shallop reeking all with blood
From that grim wound, that sudden the ferryman did to death,
They put a thousand questions to Hagan in a breath.
LXII
When beheld King Gunther the hot blood, how it ran
About the heaving ferry, thus he straight began.
"Here's a boat, Sir Hagan, but where's the boatman left?
Your sturdy strength, I fear me, the wretch's life hath reft."
LXIII
With lying tongue he answer'd, "The shallop I espied
Fast by a desert meadow, myself the same untied.
I have seen no boatman; this I can truly say;
And harm to none has happen'd by fault of mine to-day."
LXIV
Thereto the bold Burgundian Sir Gernot made reply,
"To-day deep care besets me; many a dear friend must die.
With not a boatman ready to put our people o'er,
'Twere hard to cross the river; this I must needs deplore."
LXV
Loud then shouted Hagan, "Lay down upon the grass
Our riding-gear, ye yeomen! I recollect I was
On Rhine the best of ferrymen that e'er took oar in hand.
Trust me, I'll put you over safe into Gelfrat's land."
XLVI
To make their passage quicker, the horses in a throng
They drove into the river; these swam so well and strong,
That by the forceful current the warriors lost not one;
A few down lower landed with weary toil foredone.
LXVII
Long and broad and massy was that huge ferry-boat.
Five hundred men and better it all at once could float
With their food and weapons from sounding shore to shore.
That day many a good warrior perforce strain'd at the oar.
LXVIII
Aboard then plac'd the heroes their gold and eke their weed.
The goal of dark destruction they sought with fatal speed.
Hagan was master-boatman; his luckless skill alone
Full many a gallant champion brought to that land unknown.
LXIX
Noble knights a thousand first he ferried o'er,
Thereto his own stout followers; behind still tarried more.
Nine thousand lusty varlets he after brought away.
The hand of him of Trony had little rest that day.
LXX
As the good knight thus deftly was putting o'er his freight,
He thought on the strange warning he had receiv'd so late
From those wise river-ladies with their prophetic breath;
It brought King Gunther's chaplain within a hair of death.
LXXI
By his holy things close seated he found the priest at rest,
With one hand gently leaning above a relique-chest;
But in the grasp of Hagan that help'd him not the least.
Sore wrong perforce he suffer'd, that heaven-forsaken priest.
LXXII
He caught and cast him over sooner than can be told.
Many a voice loud shouted, "Hold, hold, Sir Hagan, hold!"
Wroth at the deed was Giselher, Dame Uta's youngest son,
But hold would not Sir Hagan till the mischief he had done.
LXXIII
Then the bold Burgundian the good Sir Gernot spake,
"What can it boot you, Hagan, the chaplain's life to take?
Had any other done it, he should have rued it straight.
What can thus have mov'd you the holy man to hate?"
LXXIV
Stoutly swam the chaplain; to 'scape ne'er doubted he,
Would any but assist him, but that was not to be;
Stern Hagan, fierce and furious, as close he swam along,
Dash'd him to the bottom, wrong heaping still on wrong.
LXXV
None there but thought it outrage, yet none came to his aid,
Which when he saw, back turning for th' other bank he made;
Though fail'd his strength o'erwearied, yet God's almighty hand
Back bore him through the billows, and brought him safe to land.
LXXVI
There stood the poor clerk shivering, and shook his dripping weed.
By this well knew Sir Hagan that their dark doom decreed,
As those wild mermaids warn'd him, 'twas all in vain to shun.
Thought he, "These hopeful champions must perish every one."
LXXVII
Soon as the bark was emptied, and all the goods it bore
By the three brethren's vassals were safely brought to shore,
Stern Hagan broke it piecemeal and down the current cast;
The good knights star'd upon him, with wonder all aghast.
LXXVIII
"What are you doing, brother?" Dankwart sudden cried,
"How shall we cross the river, when back we have to ride
To the Rhine from Hungary our homes again to see?"
Thereafter Hagan told him, that that was ne'er to be.
LXXIX
Then said the Knight of Trony, "I do it to this end,
That, should a coward among us upon this journey wend,
Who would perchance desert us through heart-appalling fear,
A shameful death may meet him in the wild waters here."
LXXX
Then when the priest saw Hagan the bark in pieces break,
Far o'er the boiling billows to the stern knight he spake.
"What did I to you ever, base murderer," he began,
"That you this day attempted to drown a guiltless man?"
LXXXI
Then answer gave Sir Hagan, "Now of this no more;
I tell you on my honor, Sir Priest, it irks me sore
That thus you have escap'd me; I neither jest nor feign."
"For this God prais'd be ever!" said the poor chaplain.
LXXXII
"I fear you not, assure you, though brought to death so nigh.
Now on with you to Hungary; over the Rhine will I.
God grant you never thither come back, you knight untrue!
So hence with my worst wishes, for what you could not do!"
LXXXIII
With those undaunted squadrons from Burgundy there came
A bold quick-handed champion; Folker was his name.
Whate'er he thought, out-spake he with ready wit and light.
All that was done by Hagan, the minstrel held for right.
LXXXIV
Their steeds were ready saddled; their sumpters loaded too;
Not yet, throughout the journey, had one had cause to rue,
Save only the king's chaplain, the nearly drown'd divine;
He plod must weary homeward, and foot it to the Rhine.
TWENTY-SIXTH ADVENTURE
HOW DANKWART SLEW GELFRAT
I
When now were all the warriors debark'd upon the strand,
The king began to question, "Who now can through the land
Direct us, lest we wander through wildering ways unknown?"
Then answer'd valiant Folker, "That task be mine alone."
II
"Now guard you well," said Hagan, "yeoman as well as knight,
And follow friendly counsel, for thus it seems me right;
News know I, sad to utter, and sad alike to learn;
Not one of us shall ever to Burgundy return.
III
"'Twas told me by two mermaids this morn without disguise,
That back should we come never; now hear what I advise.
Take to your arms, ye heroes, and wend your wary way
(Since here we have stout foemen) in battailous array.
IV
"I thought to prove the mermaids, and catch them in a lie,
Who said that we in Hungary were surely doom'd to die,
And that alone the chaplain should come to Rhenish ground,
So him in yonder river I gladly would have drown'd."
V
The woe-denouncing tidings flew quick from rank to rank;
With ashen cheeks the warriors astonied sat and blank,
As on their death they ponder'd by dismal doom decreed,
From that disastrous journey; each shudder'd on his steed.
VI
'Twas near the town of Mœring that they the stream had cross'd;
'Twas there that Elsy's boatman his luckless life had lost.
Then thus bespake them Hagan, "This morning by the flood
I made me certain enemies, so look for wounds and blood.
VII
"I slew that self-same boatman at early dawn to-day;
By this, all know the story; so buckle to the fray;
If Gelfrat here and Elsy our onward journey cross,
Let it be, Burgundians, to their disgrace and loss.
VIII
"I know them for so valiant that they will ne'er abstain,
So let us pace our horses the slower o'er the plain,
That nobody may fancy we rather flee than ride."
"That counsel will I follow," young Giselher replied.
IX
"But who shall guide our party? This country's strange and lone."
All shouted, "That shall Folker (for well to him are known
The highways and the byways), the hardy minstrel good."
They scarce had breath'd their wishes, when in his armor stood
X
The ever-ready gleeman; his helmet on he bound;
He donn'd in haste his hauberk that brightly flash'd around,
And to his spear-shaft fasten'd a pennon bloody red.
Soon with the kings his masters to a dismal doom he sped.
XI
By this, to valiant Gelfrat his boatman's death was known;
Swift-wing'd are evil tidings; the news as soon had flown
To the redoubted Elsy; sore griev'd thereat were both.
Straight summon'd they their vassals; all gather'd nothing loth;
XII
And I can well assure you, that scarce few hours were past,
Ere, to find the wrong-doers, were pricking fiery fast
A sturdy troop of warriors long prov'd in war before;
In aid of noble Gelfrat seven hundred came or more.
XIII
All for revenge were thirsting, all eager for th' attack,
Their warlike lords were foremost; too hotly in the track
They follow'd of those strangers, and learnt it to their cost.
Many a good friend soon after their valiant leaders lost.
XIV
Hagan the cautious Tronian their hasty counsels marr'd;
How could a warrior better his friends and kinsmen guard?
He took in charge the rearward, and there his men array'd
With his brave brother Dankwart; all with one soul obey'd.
XV
The day had sunk and vanish'd; 'twas gloom and darkness all.
He fear'd lest harm or danger his comrades should befall.
Well marshall'd through Bavaria beneath their shields went they;
Yet in short time their foemen assail'd them by the way.
XVI
On either side the highway, though nothing met their view,
Hoofs heard they frequent trample, and close behind them too.
Then out spoke fearless Dankwart, "Upon us is the foe;
Bind fast your helmets, warriors; prudence would have it so."
XVII
Upon their march they halted, for now they were so nigh,
That bucklers faintly glimmering they through the dark could spy,
Nor longer wish'd Sir Hagan in silence to abide.
"Who hunts us on the highway?" the deep-voiced warrior cried.
XVIII
The stern Bavarian Margrave Gelfrat gave answer back,
"We're seeking out our foemen, and close are on their track.
I know not who among you this morn my boatman slew;
He was a knight of prowess; his loss I surely rue."
XIX
Then answer'd he of Trony, "Was that same ferryman thine?
He would not put us over; the guilt, if guilt, is mine.
I slew him, I confess it, but what besides could I?
Myself first by his fury was all but done to die.
XX
"I offer'd gold and raiment for meed (what could I more?)
Into thy land, Sir Gelfrat, if he'd but put us o'er.
He flew into a fury, and caught me o'er the crown
With a heavy boat-pole, and knock'd me roughly down.
XXI
"I snatch'd my sword in anger; from his wrath I kept my life;
A mortal wound I gave him; this clos'd at once the strife.
Yet such amends I offer as you think just and right."
They hearken'd but to vengeance, burning with scorn and spite.
XXII
"I knew full well," said Gelfrat, "if Gunther pass'd along
This country with his meiny, that we should suffer wrong
At the hands of Hagan; 'scape shall he not to-day;
He did to death the ferryman, and for the deed shall pay."
XXIII
To smite above the bucklers they couch'd their lances straight.
Gelfrat and Hagan both clos'd with eager hate.
Elsy too and Dankwart each bore him like a knight;
Each prov'd the other's manhood; stern and stubborn was the fight.
XXIV
Who better could defend them? who better could assail?
Borne was the stalwart Hagan clean o'er his horse's tail,
And on the grass lay floundering by Gelfrat's sturdy stroke.
In the shock asunder his charger's pöitral broke.
XXV
Then knew he what was fighting; all round the lances crash'd;
From the green Sir Hagan upstarted, unabash'd,
Or rather kindling courage from overthrow so rude.
He turn'd, I ween, on Gelfrat, not in the mildest mood.
XXVI
Who held them both their horses, is more than I can tell.
To the ground the champions were both brought down from selle.
They rush'd upon each other; they mingled sword and shield.
Their comrades to the rescue flock'd round from all the field.
XXVII
However fiercely Hagan on noble Gelfrat sprung,
A huge piece from his buckler (loud with the stroke it rung)
Was hewn by the stout margrave; fire forth in sparkles flew;
The ferryman like to follow was Gunther's liegeman true.
XXVIII
To the valiant Dankwart he shouted loud and high,
"Help, help me, dearest brother, I've just been like to die
By a stout-handed champion; he'll let me ne'er go free."
Thereto replied bold Dankwart, "Then I'll your umpire be."
XXIX
Close to them leapt the hero; nothing more he said;
Once his sword he lifted, down dropp'd Gelfrat dead.
Elsy had fain reveng'd him, but forc'd was he to yield.
He and his fear-struck comrades fled that disastrous field.
XXX
Slain was his valiant brother, himself was wounded sore,
Of his war-practis'd champions eighty the best, or more,
Lay with grim Death companion'd; what then beside could he
But from the men of Gunther with loss and anguish flee?
XXXI
Soon as they of Bavaria gave way through ghastly fear,
Behind them deadly sword-strokes loud ringing you might hear.
So the bold men of Trony held their foes in chase,
Who sought to 'scape the forfeit and ever fled apace.
XXXII
Then Dankwart thus behind them loud shouted o'er the plain,
"Forthwith must we be wending back on our steps again;
So let them fly unfollow'd, each bleeding as he flies,
While we rejoin our comrades; this I in truth advise."
XXXIII
When back had come the warriors to where the fight had been,
Thus spoke the Knight of Trony, "Chiefs, now 'twere fit, I ween,
To reckon up the missing, and learn whom we to-night
Have lost through Gelfrat's anger in this sharp sudden fight."
XXXIV
Four of their friends had perish'd, slight cause had they to plain,
For they had well aveng'd them; on th' other hand were slain
Of the repuls'd Bavarians a hundred men or more,
The shields of the stout Tronians were dimm'd and soak'd with gore.
XXXV
From the clouds a moment broke out the gleaming moon;
"We shall overtake," said Hagan, "our friends and comrades soon;
But none to my good masters speak of this hasty fray;
Let them without suspicion remain till dawn of day."
XXXVI
When those who fought the battle had now rejoin'd the rest,
They found them with long travail exhausted and oppress'd.
"How long have we to journey?" asked many a champion brave.
"Here's neither host nor hostel," was th' answer Dankwart gave,
XXXVII
"You all must until morning ride on as best you can."
Next sent the nimble Folker, the leader of the van,
To ask the noble marshal, "Where shall we lodge the crew
To-night? Where rest the horses and our good masters too?"
XXXVIII
Then answer gave bold Dankwart, "That's more than I can say;
Rest must we ne'er a moment before the dawn of day,
And, wheresoe'er we meet it, lie down upon the green."
To most of those who heard him 'twas heavy news, I ween.
XXXIX
Long time remain'd unnotic'd the stains of bloody red,
Till the fair sun, up rising, his glittering radiance spread
At morn above the mountains; at once the king espied
That they had just been fighting, and full of anger cried,
XL
"How now, friend Hagan? so you, it seems, disdain'd
To have me for your comrade, when thus with blood was stain'd
And dabbled all your hauberks; who put you in that plight?"
Said he, "'Twas done by Elsy; he fell on us last night.
XLI
"To revenge his ferryman this fierce assault he plann'd
There slain was sturdy Gelfrat by my good brother's hand,
And Elsy scarce escap'd us; 'faith he was ill bestead.
We lost but four companions, and he a hundred dead."
XLII
We know not, where that morning the warriors laid them down,
Straight learn'd all the people in country and in town,
That noble Uta's children to court were on their road.
On them a hearty welcome was at Passau soon bestow'd.
XLIII
Well pleas'd was Bishop Pilgrin, the uncle of the queen.
That with so many champions, all cas'd in armor sheen,
His proud Burgundian nephews had come into the land.
Soon, what good will he bore them, he made them understand.
XLIV
Along the roads to lodge them their friends all did their best.
At Passau room was wanting to harbor every guest;
They cross'd perforce the water, where on an open ground
Were hasty tents erected, and rich pavilions pitch'd around.
XLV
They there were forc'd to tarry the space of one whole day,
And eke the night till morning; how well receiv'd were they!
Thence to the land of Rudeger they were to ride anew.
Swift to him the tidings of their coming flew.
XLVI
When the way-weary warriors had ta'en some needful rest,
And now were close approaching the country of their quest,
They found upon the border a man that sleeping lay;
Sir Hagan sprung upon him, and took his sword away.
XLVII
He was call'd Sir Eckewart, that sleep-oppressed knight;
Sore griev'd was he and downcast at his defenceless plight,
Stripp'd of so strong a weapon, and at a stranger's will.
They found the march of Rudeger watch'd and warded ill.
XLVIII
"Woe's me for this dishonor!" the grief-struck warrior cried,
"Alas that the Burgundians e'er hither thought to ride!
Sure, since I lost Sir Siegfried, all joy is flown from me.
Oh, well away, Sir Rudeger, how have I injur'd thee!"
XLIX
Sir Hagan scarcely waited to hear his sorrows through;
He gave him back his weapon, and six red armlets too.
"Take these, Sir Knight, as tokens that thou my friend wilt be:
Thou'rt a bold chief to slumber thus lonely on the lea."
L
"God quit you for your armlets!" Sir Eckewart replied;
"Yet much, I own, it grieves me that to the Huns you ride.
You took the life of Siegfried, all hate you deadly here;
As your true friend I warn you; watch well, and wisely fear."
LI
"Now God watch well and ward us," Hagan gave answer back;
"No care have these good warriors, save for what now they lack,
Fit and convenient quarters; fain would we learn aright
Where we, both kings and subjects, may hope to lodge to-night.
LII
"Our steeds by this long journey are ruin'd past a doubt,"
Said the bold warrior Hagan, "our stores are all run out;
Naught's to be had for money; we need (or else we're sped),
Some host, who of his goodness to-night would give us bread."
LIII
Straight Eckewart made answer, "I'll show you such a host,
That scarcely could a better be found in any coast,
Than he, who here, assure ye, your coming fain will greet,
If you be pleas'd, bold strangers, Sir Rudeger to meet.
LIV
"He dwells fast by the highway, and never yet on earth
Was there a host more liberal; his heart gives virtues birth,
As meadows grass and flowerets in the sweet month of May,
To do good knights good service he waxes blithe and gay."
LV
Straight answer'd then King Gunther, "Will you a message take,
So ask my dear friend Rudeger, if he will for my sake
Me and my kinsmen shelter and all this numerous clan?
To serve him ever after I'll do the best I can."
LVI
"Fain will I do your bidding," Eckewart replied.
With good will off he started; well his spurs he plied,
And what he brought to Rudeger he told without delay.
To him no such glad tidings had come for many a day.
LVII
A knight toward Bechlaren spurr'd fast as fast might be;
Rudeger himself discerned him; "On yonder road," said he,
"'Tis Kriemhild's liegeman Eckewart, that rides so hot a pace."
He thought his foes had harm'd him, and held him still in chase.
LVIII
To the gate he hurried; the knight there saw he stand,
Who straight his sword ungirded, and laid it from his hand.
The news that he brought with him he car'd not to withhold
From the host and those about him, but straight his story told.
LIX
He thus bespake the margrave, "A message you I bring
From my good master Gunther, the stout Burgundian king,
And Giselher his brother and noble Gernot too;
Every one of the warriors sends you his service true.
LX
"The same does also Hagan and Folker bold, as well,
With firm entire devotion, and I beside must tell
What from the king's marshal I have too in command,
That need have the good yeomen of lodging at your hand."
LXI
Merrily laugh'd Sir Rudeger as thus he made reply,
"I joy to hear these tidings, that kings so great and high
Deign to request my service; my zeal they soon shall see;
If they my dwelling enter, right happy shall I be."
LXII
"Dankwart the marshal also by me the number sends
Of those, who seek your homestead with your Burgundian friends;
Sixty nimble champions, good knights a thousand too,
And yeomen full nine thousand." Right glad the margrave grew.
LXIII
"In truth I shall be happy," said noble Rudeger,
"To see guests of such worship in my poor dwelling here,
To whom I have but rarely yet render'd service due.
Now ride ye forth to meet them, good friends and kinsmen true."
LXIV
With that in haste they mounted: forth flew squire and knight,
Whate'er their lord commanded, that pass'd with all for right;
The better thus their duties they did when need requir'd.
Yet nothing knew Dame Gotelind, who sat in power retir'd.
TWENTY-SEVENTH ADVENTURE
RUDEGER'S HOSPITALITY
I
There lingered not the margrave, but straight the ladies sought,
His wife and his fair daughter, and what good news he brought,
By Eckewart deliver'd, told with exulting glee,
How their good lady's brethren their guests were soon to be.
II