It chanc'd the young Prince Ortlieb was carried to and fro
From table unto table; the news of that fell strife,
So sudden brought among them, cost the fair child his life.
III
To a good knight then Dankwart shouted loud and strong,
"Be stirring, brother Hagan, you're sitting all too long.
To you and God in heaven our deadly strait I plain;
Yeomen and knights together lie in their quarters slain."
IV
"Tell me who has done it?" Hagan fiercely cried.
"Sir Blœdel and his meiny," Dankwart straight replied,
"And paid too has he dearly; he's dead among the dead;
This hand from off his shoulders smote at a stroke his head."
V
"Small is the loss," said Hagan, "whenever one can tell
That a vanquish'd hero by hands heroic fell.
Thus it still befitteth a knight to yield his breath;
So much the less fair ladies should sorrow for his death.
VI
"Now tell me, brother Dankwart, why are you so red?
Your wounds, methinks, oppress you; they must have sorely bled.
If he's yet in this country who has harm'd you thus in strife,
But the foul fiend aid him, it shall cost his life."
VII
"You see me whole and hearty; my weed with blood is wet,
But 'tis from wounds of others whom sword to sword I met,
Of whom I slew so many, though furious all and fell,
That, if I had to swear it, th' amount I ne'er could tell."
VIII
Said th' other, "Brother Dankwart, keep guard upon the door;
Let not one Hungarian step the threshold o'er.
Straight, as need impels us, converse with them will I.
Our friends by their devices were guiltless done to die."
IX
"Since I'm to be door-keeper," replied the champion true
"(And well to such great monarchs such service I can do),
As fits me, 'gainst all comers the staircase I'll maintain."
Naught could be more distasteful to Kriemhild's knightly train.
X
"In sooth," resum'd Sir Hagan, "I can't but wonder here,
What now these Huns are whisp'ring each in his fellow's ear.
I ween, they well could spare him, who keeps the door so bold,
Him, who to us Burgundians his courtly tale has told.
XI
"Long have I heard and often of moody Kriemhild tell,
That still her heart's deep sorrow she harbors fierce and fell;
Now then let's drink to friendship! king's wine shall quench
our thirst,
And the young Prince of Hungary himself shall pledge us first."
XII
With that the good Knight Hagan smote Ortlieb the young child;
The gushing blood, down flowing, both sword and hand defil'd;
Into the lap of Kriemhild bounded the ghastly head.
At once among the warriors a fearful butchery spread.
XIII
Then with both hands uplifted he dealt a stroke at large
'Gainst the grave-visag'd tutor, who had the child in charge;
His sever'd head down falling, before the table lay.
For all his learned lessons t' faith 'twas sorry pay.
XIV
Just then at Etzel's table a minstrel met his view;
Upon him in an instant in wrath Sir Hagan flew.
His right hand on his viol off lopp'd he suddenly;
"Take that for the kind message thou brought'st to Burgundy."
XV
"Alas! my hands!" cried Werbel frantic with pain and woe,
"What have I done, Sir Hagan, that you should serve me so?
I came in faith and honor into your master's land.
How can I now make music since I have lost my hand?"
XVI
Little reck'd Sir Hagan if ne'er he fiddled more;
Then round his death-strokes dealing he stretch'd upon the floor
Many a good knight of Etzel's, and wide the slaughter spread,
Turning to bale the banquet, and heap'd the hall with dead.
XVII
Up the ready Folker leapt from table quick;
In his hand loud clatter'd his deadly fiddlestick.
Harsh crashing notes discordant King Gunther's minstrel play'd.
Ah! what a host of foemen among the Huns he made!
XVIII
Up, too, leapt from table the royal brethren three;
They thought to part the battle ere mischief more should be.
But lost was all their labor, vain was all help of man;
When Folker and stern Hagan once so to rage began.
XIX
When saw the Lord of Rhineland no power could stint the strife,
He too dealt dole about him with wounds that let out life,
Through the shining hauberks cutting deadly way.
A prowest knight was Gunther, as clear he show'd that day.
XX
At once into the battle the sturdy Gernot flew;
Thick as they flock'd around him the clustering Huns he slew
With his sword, the gift of Rudeger, the which he wielded so,
That many a knight of Etzel's he laid for ever low.
XXI
The third too of the brethren rush'd into the fray;
Through th' helms of Etzel's warriors his swords made bloody way;
Death follow'd every buffet; right wondrous deeds were done
That hour by youthful Giselher, Dame Uta's youngest son.
XXII
Well fought that day the brethren, well too their men of might,
But ever valiant Folker stood foremost in the fight,
Against his foes so knightly himself the warrior bore.
Many brought he among them to wallow in their gore.
XXIII
On their defence, too, stoutly stood Etzel's champions all.
Then might you see the strangers through the kingly hall
With their glittering broadswords slashing and hewing go.
Loud thrill'd throughout the palace wild screams of wail and woe.
XXIV
Then those without in hurried to aid their friends within,
But found upon the staircase more was to lose than win;
Out fain would rush the others, and through the doorway fare.
To none gave Dankwart passage, nor up nor down the stair.
XXV
To force the guarded portal throng'd the Huns amain.
With the clattering sword-strokes the morions rang again.
Then stood the valiant Dankwart in deadly peril there;
Of that his loving brother took heed with timely care.
XXVI
Straight to dauntless Folker, Hagan shouted loud,
"See you there my brother beset by yonder crowd,
Batter'd by blades unnumber'd, by countless bucklers cross'd?
Up, and save him, comrade! or the good knight is lost."
XXVII
"Fear not," replied the minstrel, "I'll do your bidding soon."
Straight strode he through the palace playing his harshest tune.
Oft clash'd the keen-edg'd broadsword that in his hand he bore.
The noble chiefs of Rhineland thank'd him o'er and o'er.
XXVIII
Then to the fearless Dankwart the minstrel-knight 'gan say,
"You must have surely suffered sore press and toil to-day.
Sent hither by your brother to aid you I have been.
If you'll without be warder, I'll keep the door within."
XXIX
Firm the nimble Dankwart stood outside the door;
All who the stairs were mounting down drove he evermore;
In the grasp of the warriors their swords clash'd fearfully.
The like within did stoutly Folker of Burgundy.
XXX
Loud the valiant minstrel shouted o'er the throng,
"The hall is shut, friend Hagan! the locks are firm and strong.
The hands of two stout warriors King Etzel's door secure;
A thousand bolts, believe me, would not be half so sure."
XXXI
When Hagan saw the portal secur'd against attack,
By the thong his buckler the fiery chief threw back,
And whirl'd his sword for vengeance with huge two-handed sway;
No hope had then his foemen with life to come away.
XXXII
When good Sir Dietrich noted how with each swashing stroke
The furious Lord of Trony a Hunnish morion broke,
On to a bench straight leapt he, to see the knights of Rhine.
Said he, "Sure Hagan's serving the very worst of wine."
XXXIII
The host was sore bewilder'd with horror and surprise;
What crowds of friends and subjects were slain before his eyes!
Scarce 'midst the bloody turmoil himself from danger free,
He sat in mortal anguish; what boot was his a king to be?
XXXIV
Proud Kriemhild cried to Dietrich in ghastly drear affright,
"Help me with thy valor, good and noble knight
By the worth of all the princes of th' Amelungers' land.
If Hagan only reach me, Death have I close at hand."
XXXV
"Fair queen," replied Sir Dietrich, "how can I help you here?
Or how protect another when for myself I fear?
So wroth are these Burgundians, so high their passions run,
That I in such a moment can promise peace to none."
XXXVI
"Nay, say not so, Sir Dietrich, renown'd and noble knight!
Show forth this day amongst us thy high heroic might
To bring me hence in safety; else, I shall surely die.
Dole and dismay beset me; in mortal strait am I."
XXXVII
"At least I'll make the trial, if boot you yet I can,
For ne'er before beheld I many a mighty man,
To sudden wrath enkindl'd, so fierce to battle rush.
Blood see I through the helmets at every sword-stroke gush."
XXXVIII
So the fair queen's entreaty he would no longer scorn;
Up his voice he lifted like a blast on a buffalo's horn,
That all the echoing castle rung through its breadth and length;
So loud the voice of Dietrich, so wondrous was his strength!
XXXIX
Soon as heard King Gunther the voice of such a man
Peal o'er the clash and tumult, to listen he began.
Said he, "The voice of Dietrich sounds in my ears amain;
I fear our eager champions some friend of his have slain.
XL
"I see him on the table beckoning with his hand.--
Loving friends and kinsmen of Burgundy's fair land,
Hold a little season! let us hear and see
What we have done to Dietrich, or what his wish may be."
XLI
Soon as thus King Gunther begg'd and commanded too,
In th' heat of that dire struggle back their swords they drew;
Yet more his power effected, that still they stood and stern;
Then thus the King of Rhineland bespake the Lord of Bern.
XLII
Said he, "Right noble Dietrich, has any of my friends
Done you here an injury? I'll make you full amends.
Be sure, the satisfaction shall with the fault along.
In sooth, 'twould inly grieve me, were you to suffer wrong."
XLIII
Him answer'd good Sir Dietrich, "No cause have I to grieve.
Let me with your safe-conduct this hall of Etzel's leave,
And quit this bloody banquet with those who follow me,
And for this grave for ever I'll at your service be."
XLIV
"Why beg instead of bidding?" fierce Wolfhart interpos'd,
"The door, methinks, yon minstrel has not so firmly clos'd,
But we can set it open, and go where'er we will."
"Silence!" return'd Sir Dietrich, "the devil prompts thee ill.
XLV
"I give you full permission," thus noble Gunther spake,
"Hence whom you will, Sir Dietrich, or few or many, take,
Except my mortal foeman; in Hungary have they
Done deadly wrong to Gunther, and here behind must stay."
XLVI
Then lingered not the Berner; under his arm he took
The noble queen all trembling; fear-stricken was her look.
On the other side King Etzel away with him he led,
Eke many a stately champion forth with Sir Dietrich sped.
XLVII
The noble Margrave Rudeger then cried, "If any more
May quit this house uninjur'd, and pass yon reeking door,
Tell us, who ever lov'd you, and now would serve your ends,
So peace will last for ever with true and faithful friends."
XLVIII
Thereto made answer Giselher, the knight of Burgundy,
"Let there be peace betwixt us and constant amity,
For you were ever faithful, you and your warriors tried,
So part ye hence in safety, and all your friends besides."
XLIX
Soon as the good Sir Rudeger left the blood-reeking hall,
There follow'd him stout champions five hundred or more in all.
In this the lords of Rhineland did faithfully and well,
Yet ruin and destruction King Gunther thence befell.
L
Just then a knight of Hungary, who saw King Etzel take
His way beside Sir Dietrich, came nigh for safety's sake,
When him the furious minstrel with such a sword-stroke sped,
That at the feet of Etzel straight lay his sever'd head.
LI
Soon as the Lord of Hungary from th' house had come at last,
He turn'd, and on fierce Folker as fierce a glance he cast.
"Woe's me for these fell strangers! Oh, grievous strait," he said,
"That all my faithful warriors should lie before them dead!
LII
"Ah! woe for this sad meeting! woe for this festal-fight!
There spreads, within, destruction one that Folker hight;
Like a wild boar he rages, yet but a minstrel he.
Thank heaven! 'tis well in safety from such a fiend to be.
LIII
"In sooth, ill sound his measures; his strokes are bloody red;
His oft-repeated quavers lay many a hero dead.
I know not why this gleeman should spite us o'er the rest;
Never had I for certain so troublesome a guest."
LIV
Thereat straight to their quarters the noble knights withdrew,
The lord of Bern, Sir Dietrich, and the good margrave too.
To mix in that fierce struggle neither had desire,
And from it, too, their followers they bade in peace retire.
LV
But had the bold Burgundians foreseen the deadly woe
That they from those two champions were soon to undergo,
Ne'er from the hall had either so quietly been sent,
But at their hands had suffer'd a bloody chastisement.
LVI
They, whom they pleas'd, permitted to leave that hall of ill;
Then rose within, redoubled, the death-cry wild and shrill.
The guests 'gainst their wrong-doers for deadly vengeance strove;
Folker the valiant minstrel, ah! how the helms he clove!
LVII
At the clash King Gunther turn'd, and to Hagan cried,
"Hear you what a measure Folker, the door beside,
Plays with each poor Hungarian who down the stairs would go;
See! what a deep vermilion has dyed his fiddle-bow!"
LVIII
"I own, it much repents me," Hagan straight replied,
"That I sat here at table from the good knight so wide.
We still were constant comrades, not wont before to sever.
If we again see Rhineland, no chance shall part us ever.
LIX
"Now see, great king! right loyal to thee is Folker bold;
Well deserves the warrior thy silver and thy gold.
His fiddlestick, sharp-cutting, can hardest steel divide,
And at a stroke can shiver the morion's beamy pride.
LX
"Never yet saw I minstrel so high and lordly stand,
As did to-day Sir Folker among the hostile band. On helms and clattering
bucklers his lays make music rare.
Ride should he good war-horses, and gorgeous raiment wear."
LXI
Of all the fierce Hungarians that at the board had been,
Now not a single champion remain'd alive within. Then first was hush'd
the tumult, when none was left to fight.
Then down his sword laid reeking each bold Burgundian knight.
THIRTY-FOURTH ADVENTURE
HOW THEY THREW DOWN THE DEAD
I
Then after all their labor the lords sat down at last.
Before the hall together Folker and Hagan pass'd.
The pair of haughty champions upon their bucklers leant,
And each the time with th' other in gentle converse spent.
II
Then the youthful Giselher thus his mind express'd,
"Ye must not yet, dear comrades, think of ease or rest;
From out the house first hasten to bear the dead away.
Once more shall we do battle; that I can truly say.
III
"Beneath our feet 'twere better they should no longer lie.
Ere these proud Huns subdue us, and we o'ermaster'd die,
Hewn will be many a hauberk, and blood in torrents flow;
No sight can please me better than a bleeding foe."
IV
"I'm proud of such a master," cried Hagan with delight;
"Who could e'er give such counsel save a redoubted knight?
When words so wise and valiant from our young lord you hear,
Needs must ye, bold Burgundians! be all of lively cheer."
V
The counsel straight they follow'd, and carried through the door,
And cast out from among them, seven thousand dead or more.
Adown the stairs they tumbled and lay in heaps below.
Then burst forth from their kinsmen a thrilling scream of woe.
VI
'Mongst these was many a warrior, though wounded and in pain,
Who yet with milder treatment might have wax'd whole again.
Crush'd by the fall they perish'd, who half had 'scap'd the sword.
Their friends with moans of sorrow their fatal doom deplor'd.
VII
Then spake the minstrel Folker, the warrior void of fear,
"I oft have heard reported, and now behold I clear,
That Huns are vile and worthless; they like weak women wail,
When they should tend the wounded, and soothe their dreary bale."
VIII
Then ween'd a Hunnish margrave, he thus through kindness spake;
He saw a luckless kinsman fall'n in a bloody lake;
So threw his arms about him, and hoped away to bear.
Him shot to death the minstrel; down fell he dying there.
IX
When this was seen by th' others, they took at once to flight;
That same redoubted gleeman all curs'd with all their might.
He brandish'd high a javelin, well-temper'd, bright, and keen,
Which by a Hun against him before had darted been.
X
This through the echoing castle he sent with mastering main
Far o'er the crowd of tremblers; that shot to Etzel's train
Gave another station more distant from the hall.
The matchless strength of Folker dismay'd their leaders all.
XI
Before the house assembled were many thousand men;
Sir Folker and Sir Hagan both together then
Began unto King Etzel all their mind to tell,
Whence grievous ill thereafter both the good knights befell.
XII
"The trembling crowd to hearten," said Hagan, "sure 'tis right
That kings and leaders ever be foremost in the fight;
E'en so do here among us my own redoubted lords,
And, when they cleave the morions, blood spouts beneath their swords."
XIII
A valiant knight was Etzel; his shield in hand he took.
"Be wary," cried Dame Kriemhild: "to your good liegemen look;
Fill shields with gold, to move them yon stranger to defy.
Death must be needs your neighbor if Hagan comes you nigh."
XIV
The king he was so fearless, he would not budge an inch;
Seldom are such great princes so disinclin'd to flinch.
By his shield's thong his warriors then drew him back perforce.
Hagan went on to mock him in accents loud and coarse.
XV
"I' faith the kin was distant," he cried with scornful sound,
"That Etzel and Sir Siegfried in one alliance bound.
He cheer'd fair Lady Kriemhild long ere she look'd on thee.
Dishonor'd king and worthless! why knit thy brow at me?"
XVI
His proud disdainful mockery the wrath of Kriemhild stirr'd;
To be revil'd of Hagan, while Etzel's warriors heard,
And jeer'd before the many, was more than she could brook,
So now yet deadlier counsel against the guests she took.
XVII
"Who Hagan, Lord of Trony, shall slay," she fiercely said,
"And bring unto me hither his abhorred head,
For him the shields of Etzel I'll heap with ruddy gold,
And give him, too, for guerdon lands and castles manifold."
XVIII
"I know not," said the minstrel, "what now can keep them back;
Sure never saw I warriors so heartless stand and slack,
When a fair dame had promis'd such rich and ample pay.
Etzel can trust them never if they should flinch to-day.
XIX
"Those who the bread of Etzel have eaten many a year,
And, when his need is greatest, like cowards fail him here,
These see I stand fear-troubled; they dare not move a jot,
And yet would pass for warriors! shame ever be their lot!"
XX
Thus with distress and sorrow was Etzel ill bestead,
Right bitterly bewailing his kin and subjects dead.
Good knights of many a country stood round, a mournful ring,
And for that bloody banquet wept with their weeping king.
XXI
Then thought the best among them, "Sure Folker tells us true."
But none so inly sorrow'd of all that wavering crew,
As the bold Margrave Iring, the fearless Danish knight;
This soon he prov'd before them by deeds of manly might.
THIRTY-FIFTH ADVENTURE
HOW IRING WAS SLAIN.
I
Then loudly shouted Iring the Danish margrave strong,
"I've shap'd my course in honor, and aim'd at glory long,
And ever have in battle borne me like a knight,
So bring me now my harness, and I'll with Hagan fight."
II
"That I scarce would counsel," in scorn Sir Hagan cried.
"Bid the knights of Hungary stand farther yet aside,
Let two or three together then leap into the hall,
Back wounded down the staircase I'll dash them one and all."
III
"I'll not renounce my challenge," Iring stern replied,
"Ere now have I, and often, such hard adventures tried.
Now sword to sword I'll meet thee; let ruth aside be flung!
What boots thy haughty passion, and valor of the tongue?"
IV
Then at once Sir Iring arm'd him for the fight,
And Irnfried or Thüringia, a young and lusty knight,
And the large-limb'd Hawart with a thousand in his train;
All sought to vouch the quarrel of that redoubted Dane.
V
Soon as the dauntless minstrel so huge a troop espied
Forth all in armor coming on the fierce margrave's side,
Each with his glittering helmet laced ready for the fray,
Somewhat the wrath of Folker kindled at their array.
VI
"See you now, friend Hagan, how comes Sir Iring nigh?
Sure I must condemn him--ill fits a knight to lie.
To stand against thee singly he promis'd just before,
And now he brings in armor a thousand chiefs or more."
VII
"Call me not a liar," Hawart's liegeman cried.
"Yes! I have given a promise; I'd fain my words abide.
I'll ne'er renounce th' adventure; fear is to me unknown;
How fierce soe'er be Hagan, I'll meet him here alone."
VIII
He begg'd his friends and kinsmen, down falling at their feet,
That they would let him singly the stern Burgundian meet.
Fain would they have denied him, for all too well they knew
How stout a knight was Hagan, and how remorseless too.
IX
So long he still entreated, at last they gave consent;
When him on that fierce battle they saw so wildly bent
And so athirst for honor, with grief they let him go.
A deadly strife then follow'd 'twixt either frowning foe.
X
The valiant knight of Denmark bore high his quivering spear,
And crouch'd beneath his buckler through caution, not through fear,
Then, to the hall swift mounting, with Hagan sought to close.
From the death-doing champions a deafening din arose.
XI
Each cast his spear at th' other with such o'ermastering might,
Piercing through the strong bucklers e'en to the harness bright,
That the shafts, high whirling, to a distance flew;
Their swords then, sternly frowning, the rival champions drew.
XII
Huge was the strength of Hagan, his heart and hand were stout,
Yet on him smote Sir Iring, that rang the hall throughout.
Wall and tower re-echoed at every thundering blow.
Still could not he his purpose work on his burly foe.
XIII
So Iring there let Hagan as yet unwounded stand,
And on the warlike minstrel, turn'd at once his hand;
He thought to bring him under with buffets fierce and fell,
But the long-practis'd gleeman his blows all warded well.
XIV
Then Folker, kindling passion, smote Iring's buckler so,
That the steel plates which bound it flew off at every blow.
Then turn'd he from the minstrel (he struck too boisterously),
And fell at once on Gunther the King of Burgundy.
XV
Then 'twixt the valiant couple a furious strife arose;
King Gunther and Sir Iring, like hail they bandied blows.
Yet the red blood could neither with all his buffets draw,
So goodly was their harness without a fault or flaw.
XVI
With that he left King Gunther, and straight at Gernot ran;
The fire from out his mailcoat to hammer he began.
But then to him King Gernot made such a fierce reply,
That the redoubted Iring he all but did to die.
XVII
From the prince he bounded; swift the warrior flew;
Four of the Burgundians in a trice he slew,
All high-descended courtiers from Worms across the Rhine;
Well might the youthful Giselher at such a loss repine.
XVIII
"Now by heaven, Sir Iring!" in his wrath he said,
"Thy life shall pay the forfeit for those who here lie dead
Through thy remorseless fury."--He ran at him full fleet,
And smote the Dane so sternly, he could not keep his feet.
XIX
Down he dropp'd before him grovelling in the gore;
Sure then ween'd each beholder that he never more
Blow would give or parry on a battle-day;
Yet Iring all unwounded before his foeman lay.
XX
So deep his morion sounded, so loud the sword-stroke clash'd,
His senses were confounded as to the ground he dash'd,
And like a corpse, though living, he lay unconscious there;
So wondrous was the prowess of strong-arm'd Giselher!
XXI
When from his brain bewilder'd the swoon had parted slow,
Which had his wits confounded from that o'er mastering blow,
Thought he, "I yet am living, and all unwounded, too.
Now know I Giselher's manhood, and feel what he can do."
XXII
He heard his foes about him as there he lay o'erthrown;
Worse would he have to suffer if once the truth were known
Well, too, the youthful Giselher perceiv'd he standing by.
Then thought he, from amongst them, by what device to fly.
XXIII
From the blood he started; pressing was his need;
Sure for his good fortune he might thank his speed.
From the house he darted just where Hagan stood,
And struck at him in passing with all the force he could.
XXIV
Then thought the Knight of Trony, "Thou'rt in the clutch of death;
Sure, but the devil guard thee, thou canst not 'scape with breath."
Yet with a wound through th' head-piece he straight Sir Hagan paid;
That did the knight with Wasky, his sharp and peerless blade.
XXV