Fain had he giv'n denial alike to king and queen.
Much fear'd the gentle margrave, if in the stern debate
He slew but one Burgundian, the world would bear him hate.
XXIII
With that, unto King Etzel thus spake the warrior bold,
"Sir king! take back, I pray you, all that of you I hold,
My fiefs, both lands and castles; let none with me remain.
To distant realms, a wanderer, I'll foot it forth again.
XXIV
"Thus stripp'd of all possessions I'll leave at once your land.
Rather my wife and daughter I'll take in either hand,
Than faithless and dishonor'd in hateful strife lie dead.
Ah! to my own destruction I've ta'en your gold so red."
XXV
Thereto replied King Etzel, "Who then will succor me?
My land as well as liegemen, all will I give to thee,
If thou'lt revenge me, Rudeger, and smite my foemen down.
High shalt thou rule with Etzel, and share his kingly crown."
XXVI
Then spake the blameless margrave, "How shall I begin?
To my house I bade them, as guests I took them in,
Set meat and drink before them, they at my table fed,
And my best gifts I gave them;--how can I strike them dead?
XXVII
"The folk ween in their folly that out of fear I shrink.
No! no! on former favors, on ancient bonds I think.
I serv'd the noble princes, I serv'd their followers too,
And knit with them the friendship, I now so deeply rue.
XXVIII
"I to the youthful Giselher my daughter gave of late;
In all the world the maiden could find no fitter mate,
True, faithful, brave, well-nurtur'd, rich, and of high degree;
Young prince yet saw I never so virtue-fraught as he."
XXIX
Then thus bespake him Kriemhild, "Right noble Rudeger
Take pity on our anguish! thou see'st us kneeling here,
The king and me, before thee; both clasp thy honor'd knees.
Sure never host yet feasted such fatal guests as these."
XXX
With that, the noble margrave thus to the queen 'gan say,
"Sure must the life of Rudeger for all the kindness pay,
That you to me, my lady, and my lord the king have done.
For this I'm doom'd to perish, and that ere set of sun.
XXXI
"Full well I know, this morning, my castles and my land
Both will to you fall vacant by stroke of foeman's hand,
And so my wife and daughter I to your grace commend,
And all at Bechlaren, each trusty homeless friend."
XXXII
"Now God," replied King Etzel, "reward thee, Rudeger!"
He and his queen together resum'd their lively cheer.
"From us shall all thy people receive whate'er they need;
Thou too, I trust, this morning thyself wilt fairly speed."
XXXIII
So body and soul to hazard put the blameless man.
Meanwhile the wife of Etzel sorely to weep began.
Said he, "My word I gave you, I'll keep it well to-day.
Woe for my friends, whom Rudeger in his own despite must slay."
XXXIV
With that, straight from King Etzel he went with many a sigh.
Soon his band of heroes found he muster'd nigh.
Said he, "Up now, my warriors! don all your armor bright.
I 'gainst the bold Burgundians must to my sorrow fight."
XXXV
Quick his valiant followers bade their arms be brought.
In a trice th' attendants shields and helms up caught,
And all their glittering harness bore to their masters bold.
Soon to the haughty strangers the sorry news were told.
XXXVI
Arm'd were to see with Rudeger five hundred men of might;
Twelve besides went with him, each a prowest knight,
Who hoped to win them worship on that fierce Rhenish band.
Little thought the warriors, how close was Death at hand.
XXXVII
So to war the margrave under helmet strode;
Sharpest swords his meiny brandish'd as they rode;
Each in hand, bright-flashing, held his shield before.
That saw the dauntless minstrel and seeing sorrow'd sore.
XXXVIII
Then too was by young Giselher his lady's father seen
With helm laced as for battle; "What," thought he, "can he mean?
But naught can mean the margrave but what is just and right."
At the thought full joyous wax'd the youthful knight.
XXXIX
"Well's me with friends so faithful," Sir Giselher 'gan say,
"These, whom by happy fortune we gain'd upon the way.
My late-espoused lady will stand us in good stead.
In sooth it much contents me, that e'er I came to wed."
XL
"I know not what you trust in;" thus the stern minstrel spake;
"Where saw you warriors ever for reconcilement's sake
With helmets laced advancing, and naked swords in hand?
On us will earn Sir Rudeger his castles and his land."
XLI
Scarcely the valiant minstrel his words had utter'd all,
When the noble Rudeger was close before the hall.
His shield, well prov'd in battle, before his feet he laid,
But neither proferr'd service, nor friendly greeting made.
XLII
To those within he shouted, "Look not for succor hence;
Ye valiant Nibelungers, now stand on your defence.
I'd fain have been your comrade; your foe I now must be.
We once were friends together; now from that bond I'm free."
XLIII
The hard-beset Burgundians to hear his words were woe.
Was not a man among them, but sorrow'd, high and low,
That thus a friend and comrade would 'gainst them mingle blows,
When they so much already had suffer'd from their foes.
XLIV
"Now God forbid," said Gunther, "that such a knight as you
To the faith, wherein we trusted, should ever prove untrue,
And turn upon his comrades in such an hour as this.
Ne'er can I think that Rudeger can do so much amiss."
XLV
"I can't go back," said Rudeger, "the deadly die is cast;
I must with you do battle; to that my word is past.
So each of you defend him as he loves his life.
I must perform my promise, so wills King Etzel's wife,"
XLVI
Said Gunther, "This renouncement comes all too late to-day.
May God, right noble Rudeger, you for the favors pay
Which you so oft have done us, if e'en unto the end
To those, who ever lov'd you, you show yourself a friend.
XLVII
"Ever shall we be your servants for all you've deign'd to give,
Both I and my good kinsmen, if by your aid we live.
Your precious gifts, fair tokens of love and friendship dear,
Given when you brought us hither, now think of them, good Rudeger!"
XLVIII
"How fain that would I grant you!" the noble knight replied;
"Would that my gifts forever might in your hands abide,
I'd fain in all assist you, that life concerns or fame,
But that I fear, so doing, to get reproach and shame."
XLIX
"Think not of that, good Rudeger," said Gernot, "in such need.
Sure host ne'er guests entreated so well in word or deed,
As you did us, your comrades, when late with you we stay'd.
If hence alive you bring us, 'twill be in full repaid."
L
"Now would to God! Sir Gernot," said Rudeger ill bestead,
"That you were safe in Rhineland, and I with honor dead!
Now must I fight against you to serve your sister's ends.
Sure never yet were strangers entreated worse by friends."
LI
"Sir Rudeger," answer'd Gernot, "God's blessing wait on you
For all your gorgeous presents! your death I sore should rue,
Should that pure virtue perish, which ill the world can spare.
Your sword, which late you gave me, here by my side I wear.
LII
"It never once has failed me in all this bloody fray;
Lifeless beneath its edges many a good champion lay.
Most perfect is its temper; 'tis sharp and strong as bright;
Knight sure a gift so goodly will give no more to knight.
LIII
"Yet, should you not go backward, but turn our foe to-day,
If of the friends around me in hostile mood you slay,
With your own sword, good Rudeger, I need must take your life,
Though you (heaven knows) I pity, and your good and noble wife."
LIV
"Ah! would to heaven, Sir Gernot, that it might e'en be so!
That e'en as you would wish it this matter all might go,
And your good friends 'scape harmless from this abhorréd strife!
Then sure should trust in Gernot my daughter and my wife."
LV
With that, the bold Burgundian, fair Uta's youngest, cried,
"Why do you thus, Sir Rudeger? my friends here by my side
All love you, e'en as I do; why kindle strife so wild?
'Tis ill so soon to widow your late-betrothed child.
LVI
"Should you now and your followers wage war upon me here,
How cruel and unfriendly 'twill to the world appear!
For more than on all others on you I still relied,
And took, through such affiance, your daughter for my bride."
LVII
"Fair king! thy troth remember," the blameless knight 'gan say,
"Should God be pleas'd in safety to send thee hence away.
Let not the maiden suffer for aught that I do ill.
By your own princely virtue vouchsafe her favor still."
LVIII
"That will I do and gladly," the youthful knight replied,
"But should my high-born kinsmen, who here within abide,
Once die by thee, no longer could I thy friend be styl'd;
My constant love 'twould sever from thee and from thy child."
LIX
"Then God have mercy on us!" the valiant margrave said.
At once their shields they lifted, and forward fiercely sped
In the hall of Kriemhild to force the stranger crowd.
Thereat down from the stair-head Sir Hagan shouted loud,
LX
"Tarry yet a little, right noble Rudeger!
I and my lords a moment would yet with you confer;
Thereto hard need compels us, and danger gathering nigh;
What boot were it for Etzel though here forlorn we die?
LXI
"I'm now," pursued Sir Hagan, "beset with grievous care;
The shield that Lady Gotelind gave me late to bear,
Is hewn and all-to broken by many a Hunnish brand.
I brought it fair and friendly hither to Etzel's land.
LXII
"Ah! that to me this favor heaven would be pleas'd to yield
That I might to defend me bear so well-prov'd a shield,
As that, right noble Rudeger, before thee now display'd!
No more should I in battle need then the hauberk's aid."
LXIII
"Fain with the same I'd serve thee to th' height of thy desire,
But that I fear, such proffer might waken Kriemhild's ire.
Still, take it to thee, Hagan, and wield it well in hand.
Ah! might'st thou bring it with thee to thy Burgundian land!"
LXIV
While thus with words so courteous so fair a gift he sped,
The eyes of many a champion with scalding tears were red.
'Twas the last gift, that buckler, e'er given to comrade dear
By the Lord of Bechlaren, the blameless Rudeger.
LXV
However stern was Hagan, and of unyielding mood,
Still at the gift he melted, which one so great and good
Gave in his last few moments, e'en on the eve of fight,
And with the stubborn warrior mourn'd many a noble knight.
LXVI
"Now God in heaven, good Rudeger, thy recompenser be!
Your like on earth, I'm certain, we never more shall see,
Who gifts so good and gorgeous to homeless wanderers give.
May God protect your virtue, that it may ever live!
LXVII
"Alas! this bloody business!" Sir Hagan then went on,
"We have had to bear much sorrow, and more shall have anon.
Must friend with friend do battle, nor heaven the conflict part?"
The noble margrave answer'd, "That wounds my inmost heart."
LXVIII
"Now for thy gift I'll quit thee, right noble Rudeger!
Whate'er may chance between thee and my bold comrades here,
My hand shall touch thee never amidst the heady fight,
Not e'en if thou should'st slaughter every Burgundian knight."
LXIX
For that to him bow'd courteous the blameless Rudeger.
Then all around were weeping for grief and doleful drear,
Since none th' approaching mischief had hope to turn aside.
The father of all virtue in that good margrave died.
LXX
Then from the house call'd Folker, the minstrel good at need,
"Now that my comrade Hagan has to this truce agreed,
From my hand too, Sir Rudeger, take firm and sure the same.
You've ever well deserv'd it since to this land we came.
LXXI
"For me, most noble margrave! you must a message bear;
These bracelets red were given me late by your lady fair,
To wear at this high festal before the royal Hun.
View them thyself, and tell her that I've her bidding done."
LXXII
"Ah! might it please th' Almighty," Sir Rudeger replied,
"That the margravine hereafter should give you more beside!
Yet doubt not, noble Folker, I'll bear this message fain
To my true love and lady, if e'er we meet again."
LXXIII
So promis'd gentle Rudeger, nor longer dallied yet;
Up his shield he lifted, and forward fiercely set.
He leapt on the Burgundians like a prowest knight;
Many a swift stroke among them he struck to left and right.
LXXIV
Sir Folker and Sir Hagan both from him further stepp'd
According to their promise which faithfully they kept,
But at the stairs were standing warriors so bold and stout,
That Rudeger the battle began with anxious doubt.
LXXV
King Gunther and Sir Gernot in let him force his way
To take his life the surer; stern knights and fierce were they.
Young Giselher kept his distance; e'en yet he look'd for life,
So spar'd, though half unwilling, the father of his wife.
LXXVI
Forward the margrave's warriors leapt with fierce intent;
In their master's footsteps manfully they went.
Sharp-cutting blades they brandish'd as in close fight they strove,
And shiver'd many a buckler, and many a morion clove.
LXXVII
The guests, though faint and weary, dealt many a storm-swift blow
At those of Bechlaren, that deep and smooth did go
To flesh and bone and inward through links of iron weed.
They wrought in that stern struggle full many a doughty deed.
LXXVIII
The noble train of Rudeger now in had enter'd all.
Folker at once and Hagan leapt on them in the hall,
Nor quarter gave to any, but to that single man.
The blood beneath their broadswords down through the helmets ran.
LXXIX
What a fearful clatter of clashing blades there rang!
From shields beneath the buffets how the plates they sprang,
And precious stones unnumber'd rain'd down into the gore.
They fought so fell and furious as man will never more.
LXXX
The Lord of Bechlaren went slashing here and there,
As one who well in battle knew how himself to bear.
Well prov'd the noble Rudeger in that day's bloody fight,
That never handled weapon a more redoubted knight.
LXXXI
On the other side the slaughter Gunther and Gernot led;
They smote in that grim conflict full many a hero dead;
Giselher and Dankwart, little of aught reck'd they; Full many a prowest
champion they brought to his last day.
LXXXII
Well prov'd the fiery margrave his strength and courage too,
His weapon and his harness;--ah! what a host he slew!
That saw a bold Burgundian; his passion mounted high.
Alas for noble Rudeger! e'en then his death drew nigh.
LXXXIII
Loud o'er the din of battle stout Gernot shouted then,
"How now, right noble Rudeger? not one of all my men
Thou'lt leave me here unwounded; in sooth it grieves me sore
To see my friends thus slaughter'd; bear it can I no more.
LXXXIV
"Now must thy gift too surely the giver harm to-day,
Since of my friends so many thy strength has swept away.
So turn about, and face me, thou bold and high-born man!
Thy goodly gift to merit, I'll do the best I can."
LXXXV
Ere through the press the margrave could come Sir Gerno nigh,
Full many a glittering mailcoat was stain'd a bloody die.
Then those fame-greedy champions each fierce on th' other leapt,
And deadly wounds at distance with wary ward they kept.
LXXXVI
So sharp were both their broadswords, resistless was their dint;
Sudden the good Sir Rudeger through th' helmet hard as flint
So struck the noble Gernot, that forth the blood it broke;
With death the stern Burgundian repaid the deadly stroke.
LXXXVII
He heav'd the gift of Rudeger with both his hands on high,
And, to the death though wounded, a stroke at him let fly
Right through both shield and morion; deep was the gash and wide.
At once the lord of Gotelind beneath the swordcut died.
LXXXVIII
In sooth a gift so goodly was worse requited ne'er,
Down dead dropp'd both together, Gernot and Rudeger,
Each slain by th' other's manhood, then prov'd, alas! too well.
Thereat first Sir Hagan furious wax'd and fell.
LXXXIX
Then cried the knight of Trony, "Sure we with ill are cross'd;
Their country and their people in both these chiefs have lost
More than they'll e'er recover;--woe worth this fatal day!
We have here the margrave's meiny, and they for all shall pay."
XC
All struck at one another, none would a foeman spare.
Full many a one, unwounded, down was smitten there,
Who else might have 'scap'd harmless, but now, though whole and sound,
In the thick press was trampled, or in the blood was drown'd.
XCI
"Alas! my luckless brother who here in death lies low!
How every hour I'm living brings some fresh tale of woe!
And ever must I sorrow for the good margrave too.
On both sides dire destruction and mortal ills we rue."
XCII
Soon as the youthful Giselher beheld his brother dead,
Who yet within were lingering by sudden doom were sped.
Death, his pale meiny choosing, dealt each his dreary dole.
Of those of Bechlaren 'scap'd not one living soul.
XCIII
King Gunther and young Giselher, and fearless Hagan, too,
Dankwart as well as Folker, the noble knights and true,
Went where they found together out-stretch'd the valiant twain.
There wept th' assembled warriors in anguish o'er the slain.
XCIV
"Death fearfully despoils us," said youthful Giselher,
"But now give over wailing, and haste to th' open air
To cool our heated hauberks, faint as we are with strife.
God, methinks, no longer will here vouchsafe us life."
XCV
This sitting, that reclining, was seen full many a knight;
They took repose in quiet; around (a fearful sight!)
Lay Rudeger's dead comrades; all was hush'd and still;
From that long dreary silence King Etzel augur'd ill.
XCVI
"Alas for this half friendship!" thus Kriemhild frowning spake,
"If it were true and steadfast, Sir Rudeger would take
Vengeance wide and sweeping on yonder murderous band;
Now back he'll bring them safely to their Burgundian land.
XCVII
"What boot our gifts, King Etzel? Was it, my lord, for this
We gave him all he ask'd us? The chief has done amiss.
He who should have reveng'd us will now a treaty make."
Thereto in answer Folker, the gallant minstrel, spake.
XCVIII
"Not so the truth is, lady! the more the pity, too!
If one the lie might venture to give a dame like you,
Most foully 'gainst the margrave you've lied, right noble queen!
Sore trick'd in that same treaty he and his men have been.
XCIX
"With such good-will the margrave his king's commands obey'd,
That he and all his meiny dead on this floor are laid.
Now look about you, Kriemhild! for servants seek anew;
Well were you serv'd by Rudeger; he to the death was true.
C
"The fact, if still you're doubting, before your eyes we'll bring."
'Twas done e'en of set purpose her heart the more to wring.
They brought the mangled margrave, where Etzel saw him well.
Th' assembled knights of Hungary such utter anguish ne'er befell.
CI
When thus held high before them they saw the margrave dead,
Sure by the choicest writer could ne'er be penn'd nor said
The woful burst of wailing from woman and eke from man,
That from the heart's deep sorrow to strike all ears began.
CII
Above his weeping people King Etzel sorrow'd sore;
His deep-voiced wail resounded loud as the lion's roar
In the night-shaded desert; the like did Kriemhild too;
They mourn'd in heart for Rudeger, the valiant and the true.
THIRTY-EIGHTH ADVENTURE
HOW SIR DIETRICH'S MEN WERE ALL SLAIN
I
The cry of lamentation now spread so far around
That tower and hall and palace rang with the rueful sound.
A certain Berner heard it, the noble Dietrich's man.
To tell the bloody tidings, how swift away he ran!
II
Then thus the prince bespake he, "Sir Dietrich, hear my tale;
Surely heard I never such wild and woful wail,
As in my ears is ringing, through all the life I've past.
The king himself, I doubt not, has join'd the feast at last.
III
"Why else should such loud sorrow through all the people spread?
The king, or Lady Kriemhild, or both of them are dead,
By those redoubted strangers laid low through fell despite;
So weeping and so wailing is many a courtly knight."
IV
Then outspake the Berner, "My merrymen every one,
Now be not over-hasty; what has e'en now been done
By those home-distant champions, through hard constraint befell.
I proffer'd them my service, now let it boot them well."
V
Quick then spake Sir Wolfhart, "Straight I'll thither run,
And inquire the tidings, what the guests have done,
Then, my good lord, will tell you, when I there have been
And of the truth possess'd me, what all this wail may mean."
VI
Thereto replied Sir Dietrich, "When the heart is gall,
Should reckless, rough inquiries just then perchance befall,
Wrath's yet glowing embers flame up with ease anew.
I would not have the question, good Wolfhart, ask'd by you."
VII
Then turn'd he to Sir Helfrich, and bade him speed his best,
And either from Hungarian or from stranger guest
Learn what had really happen'd, that so their grief had stirr'd.
Ne'er had in any country so wild a wail been heard.
VIII
The messenger 'gan question, "Why what has here been done?"
"Oh! we are lost forever!" straight replied a Hun.
"All joy's forever vanish'd, that cheer'd King Etzel's reign.
Here lies the noble Rudeger, by yon Burgundians slain.
IX
"Of those who enter'd with him return'd no living soul,"
At the words stood Helfrich struck dumb with mortal dole.
Tale of such deep horror never met his ear.
The messenger to Dietrich went back with many a tear.
X
"What are the news you bring us?" cried Dietrich at the sight,
"Why do you weep so bitterly, Sir Helfrich, noble knight?"
"Alas!" exclaim'd the champion, "well may I weep and plain;
The hands of yon Burgundians good Rudeger have slain."
XI
"Now God forbid!" cried Dietrich, "that could I ne'er have ween'd;
Sure 'twere a fearful vengeance, and sport for the foul fiend.
How at their hands had Rudeger deserv'd so sad an end?
Full well I know, those strangers had ne'er so firm a friend."
XII
Then answer made Sir Wolfhart, "If they this deed have done,
Their lives shall pay the forfeit; die shall they every one.
'Twould be to our dishonor, should we such outrage bear.
Oft we have had good service from noble Rudeger."
XIII
The lord of th' Amelungers yet more to know was bent.
Down sat he at a window anxious and ill content;
Then Hildebrand straight bade he haste to the strangers bold,
And what had really happen'd from their own lips be told.
XIV
A well-approved warrior was master Hildebrand,
Yet took he, on his message, nor shield nor sword in hand,
For all in peaceful fashion to seek the guests he meant. His sister's son
beheld it with angry discontent.
XV
Then sternly spake grim Wolfhart, "If thus unarm'd you go,
Naught but reproach and insult can hap from such a foe.
With outrage and dishonor needs must you hither back;
But if you're seen in harness, you'll find the foremost slack."
XVI
So th' old and wise took counsel of the foolish and the young.
Ere he could don his armor, theirs on in haste had flung
All the knights of Dietrich; each shook his naked blade.
Sore it irk'd the warrior; full fain had he renounced such aid.
XVII
Whither would they, inquir'd he--"Thither, good knight with you;
What if o'erweening Hagan, to his ill habit true,
So much the worse upon you his spite and scorn should vent."
When this was told the champion, he could not but consent.
XVIII
Soon as the valiant Folker saw sheath'd in armor bright
The flower of Bern advancing, Sir Dietrich's men of might,
Bucklers all uplifting, girded all with swords,
Ready notice gave he to his Burgundian lords.
XIX
Thus spake the fearless minstrel, "On this, my lords, advise;
There see I Dietrich's Berners come on in hostile guise,
All helmeted and harnessed;--they'll fight us, well I know.
With us forlorn and friendless ill now, I ween, 'twill go."
XX
Scarce had he done speaking, when Hildebrand came on.
Before his feet the warrior set down his shield anon,
And thus began his question to put to Gunther's crew;
"Alas! ye valiant heroes, what has Rudeger done to you?
XXI
"I come from my lord Dietrich, from you the truth to gain,
If any here among you with bloody hand has slain
The good and noble margrave, as some to us declare.
Such weight of mortal sorrow were more than we could bear."
XXII
"The woful news," said Hagan, "cannot be denied;
Would for the sake of Rudeger your messenger had lied,
And yet the chief were living! 'tis all too true a tale;
For the good knight must ever both man and woman wail."
XXIII
Soon as the knights of Dietrich heard he indeed was dead,
As love and truth impell'd them, they wailed drearihead.
Bitter tears forth gushing beard and chin ran o'er;
Such deep remorse for Rudeger in their inmost hearts they bore.
XXIV
A duke of Bern, Sir Siegstab, sighing then began,
"So comes to end the kindness, wherewith this blameless man,
After our days of sorrow, reliev'd our woe and pain.
Here the poor exile's comfort lies by you heroes slain."
XXV