With the mighty hunting-javelin, of the keen broad blade and long,
With the goodly battle-broadsword that low as his spur-tip hung,
With the ruddy golden bugle from the hero's baldric slung!
Of goodlier hunting-raiment never hath story told.
His mighty frame did a doublet of the velvet black enfold:
With the sable's fur dark-lustrous his golden hair was crowned;
And ah, what rich-wrought fringes bordered his quiver round!
A panther's fell, by reason that ever about it clung
A strange sweet scent, encased it: from his shoulders a cross-bow
swung
So mighty, that, save with a windlass, none but himself alone
Could bend its arch, yet lightly by his fingers was it done.
Sea-otter's skin was his mantle, the fell from a far shore brought;
From shoulder to heel with white tufts was it richly overwrought;
And all throughout the fur-gloss shone flicker and glint of gold
That over-rippled the mantle of that forest-master bold.
Girt to his side was Balmung, that broad and sunbright brand,
Of such exceeding sharpness that none might its edge withstand
When lightened through battle's tempest that helmet-sundering sword.
Well might he be heart-uplifted, that princely hunter-lord!
If I needs must tell the story from end to end all o'er,
I must sing of the goodly quiver and its plenteous arrow-store,
Whose shafts had gold bands clamping the handbreadth heads thereto.
Woe to the mark of that archer, for death on the points of them flew.
{P. 130}
On came that stately rider forth of the forest-glade,
And the liegemen of Gunther beheld him like a king of hunters
arrayed;
And they ran to meet him coming, and his bridle held they for him:--
Lo, cast across his saddle a huge bear mighty of limb!
Soon as on earth he lighted, from muzzle and shaggy paw
Loosed he the bands that bound it, and all the bandogs saw
That bear in their midst, and straightway all furiously they bayed.
Then rushed for the forest the monster: ha, many were sore afraid;
For the beast, from the tumult fleeing, through their woodland
cooking-hall
Burst--how from the fires did the henchmen leap, and asunder fall!
Overturned was many a caldron, the brands hurled every way--
Woe's me for the goodly victual flung mid the ashes grey!
Up from their seats on the greensward did earl and henchman spring:
Fiercely the bear snarled fleeing: straightway commanded the King
To loose the hound-pack on him, for by this all leashed they lay.
Ah, the day had had blithe ending--had that been the end of the day!
With bows and with spears on rushed they, was none that tarried
there.
Fast followed the swift pursuers on the track of the fleeing bear:
Yet no man dared loose arrow, so thronged the hounds at his heels.
So loud was the tumult, the forest rang with the echo-peals.
The brute from the host of the bandogs fled with his uttermost might:
None save the lord of Kriemhild could follow that headlong flight;
But he swooped on the maddened quarry, with his sword he smote him
and slew;
And the shaggy spoil to the camp-fire back the henchmen drew.
Then cried they all which beheld it, "Sooth, here is a stalwart
lord!"
Now bade they the princely hunters to the forest banquet-board.
There in a fair green wood-lawn they sat in a great wide ring.
Unto these lordly hunters what goodly meats did they bring!
But the cupbearers far off lingered: no man with wine drew near,
Else never had feasting heroes been served with nobler cheer.
{P. 131}
Had false hearts not thereunder been contriving treachery,
Those royal banquet-givers from reproach had been wholly free.
(C) By the wings of death overshadowed, nought knew he, the hero
betrayed,
Neither dreamed of the snares of treason that round his feet were
laid.
Yea, he was the flower of knighthood, deceit in him there was none.
--Ah, many that gat no profit thereof for his death must atone!
Then out spake Siegfried the noble: "In sooth, I marvel sore
That, seeing they bring from the camp-fires of meat such plenteous
store,
The cupbearers bring not also therewithal the wine!
If this be your wont, ye are henceforth no hunting-fellows of mine.
Yet sure might I well deserve it, that ye fairly entreat your guest."
Then spake from his place at the table the King with guileful breast:
"For this will we yet make atonement, this one day's oversight.
Blameworthy is Hagen only, who would slay us with thirst outright."
Made answer Hagen of Troneg: "My lord and master dear,
I weened that to-day our hunting should have been afar from here
In the forest of the Spessart, and thither the wine I sent.
If to-day ye be wineless, hereafter shall your hearts be well
content."
Made answer Siegfried the noble: "Small thank for thy promise have
thou!
Of mead and of wine of the clearest seven sumpter-loads even now
Should have been in our midst unladen; or, if this too hard were
found,
Nigher the good Rhine-water should have been our camping-ground."
Made answer Hagen of Troneg: "My lords, and thou, O King,
I know where nigh to us lieth a cool-upwelling spring.
That ye be not indignant against me, I counsel that thither we go."
--That rede unto many a hero was fraught with bitter woe!
Now by this was the good knight Siegfried with thirst-pangs sore
distressed.
"Now thrust ye aside the table," the hero cried to the rest;
"I will hence away to the hill-side, and drink thereby of the well."
So all that counsel of treason as the false lords plotted befell.
{P. 132}
The woodland spoil they laded upon wains, and bore through the land,
Even all that in that day's hunting had fallen to Siegfried's hand.
What folk soever beheld it the praise of the hero spoke
Even in the hour when Hagen his faith with Siegfried broke.
When these to the broad lime shading the spring were at point to
have sped,
Even then spake Hagen of Troneg: "Oft have I heard this said,
That none with the lord of Kriemhild in fleetness of foot may vie,
If he put forth his strength in running: lo now, the truth let us
try."
Then the noble thane and valiant, the Hero of Netherland, spake:
"Thereof may ye well make trial, if with me ye be minded to make
A running-match to the well-head. If this shall of us be done,
Whoso is first, account we him our fleetest one."
"Good, let us thereof make trial," made answer Hagen the thane.
Then again spake Siegfried the stalwart: "If ye pass me, either of
twain,
Then on the grass my body before your feet will I fling."
How blithe to hear that promise was Gunther the traitor king!
Then spake that fearless hero: "This too unto you will I say:
I will bear on my body my raiment and all my war-array,
My boar-spear, yea, and my buckler, and all mine hunter's weed."
Therewithal with his sword and his quiver he girded himself with
speed.
Then these twain stripped all raiment from their limbs, and on earth
they laid,
And in nought save thin white tunics men saw their bodies arrayed.
Bounding as two wild panthers they raced o'er the clover green;
But long ere they won to the fountain, there standing was Siegfried
seen.
In all manner of prowess ever men gave him the chiefest renown.
Straightway he unbuckled his war-glaive, his quiver laid he down,
And he leaned the stubborn boar-spear on the linden-tree's smooth
shaft.
And the princely guest stood waiting where the dimpling ripples
laughed:
Yea, Siegfried then, as ever, his knightly courtesy showed.
He laid on the earth his buckler hard by where the runnel flowed.
How sorely he thirsted soever, not yet the hero drank
Till first the King had drunken--he earned right evil thank!
{P. 133}
Clear was the spring as crystal, pure was the water and cool.
Down on the brink bowed Gunther, and stooped his lips to the pool;
And when to the full he had drunken, again to his feet did he rise,
While still looked Siegfried the fearless on the water with longing
eyes.
For his courtesy heavily paid he!--his bow and his mighty sword
Were borne away by Hagen from their noble-hearted lord.
Back swiftly sprang the traitor; on the javelin his grasp he laid,
And glared in search of the token at the vest of the man betrayed.
Even as Siegfried the noble drank of the life-giving flood,
Fair through the crosslet he stabbed him. Sprang from the wound the
blood,
His heart's blood; and Hagen's tunic was besprent with murder's
stain.
--Never may hand of warrior such villainy do again!
There in his heart deep-planted the murderer left the spear.
How swiftly thence did Hagen flee in his deadly fear!
Never on earth so fleetly from the face of man fled he
As when Siegfried's limbs at the death-stab leapt convulsively.
Forthright did the maddened hero up from the well-brink spring:
Stood far out 'twixt his shoulders the long shaft quivering:
Swift glanced he around, as thinking to find there bow or sword--
Good sooth, he had dealt unto Hagen a richly-earned reward!
But now when the deadly-wounded might nowhere find his brand,
No weapon save only his buckler lay ready there to his hand:
That snatched he up from the well-side, and in chase of the murderer
ran.
Full soon was the fleeing Hagen outrun by the dying man.
Albeit to death he was stricken, he smote with such mighty power
That out of the shield-face started and fell to earth in a shower
The costly gemstones: rifted was the very buckler's rim--
Grim earnest of what stern vengeance he fain would have wreaked upon
him!
By his hands' resistless smiting was Hagen hurled to the ground:
With the clang of that mighty buffet the wood-lawn echoed round.
Had he gripped in his hand but his war-glaive, surely had Hagen been
slain.
Maddened him now that death-wound, a very torment of pain.
{P. 134}
Now fled from his face all colour, he was reeling on tottering feet:
Fainted his strength from his body as when earth-spilt waters fleet:
Death set on his brow his token, his lips were ashen-grey.
--Ah, many a comely woman for this mourned many a day!
On flowers with red dew sprinkled the belovèd of Kriemhild fell,
With the blood from his wound outbursting as the streams from a
spring outwell.
Then he brake into bitter upbraiding from the lips by anguish wrung
Against them which had compassed his murder by the snare of a lying
tongue.
Loud cried the deadly-wounded: "Dastards, accursèd be ye!
Where now is my guerdon for service to you who have murdered me?
Your stay was I still and your helper: for all this death is my meed!
O caitiffs, that do unto kinsman and friend so evil a deed!
Accursèd for this your offspring, even all that shall see the light,
Shall be ever from this day onward! Your malice and your spite
Ruthlessly on my body have ye wreaked all causelessly!
By all good knights shunned ever for your villainy ye shall be!"
Now by this had the knights run thither, and saw where murdered he
lay.
To many a man true-hearted was that a joyless day.
Who cherished faith and honour, they wailed for the glory slain:
Well of them all he deserved it, that battle-fearless thane!
The traitor king that consented to his death wept now for it:
But the death-stricken cried: "Thou needest not this, thou hypocrite!
What doth he to weep for the mischief, who the profit thereof hath
won?
O'erlate the accursèd repenteth the deed best left undone!"
Spake Hagen then, the relentless: "I see not why ye should rue.
There is an end of the terror that hath haunted us hitherto.
Few now are the foes remaining that against our might shall stand.
Glad am I that this man's lordship is brought to an end by mine
hand."
{P. 135}
"Lightly enow may ye vaunt you!" did the hero of Netherland cry:
"Had I known thy murderous purpose, thou serpent of treachery,
Full well against this thy plotting had Siegfried warded his life!
Ah, now is my chiefest sorrow for Kriemhild my widowed wife.
Now God forgive it, that ever to me hath a son been born
On whom shall be cast his life long the flouts of men and their
scorn,
Because of the man whom his kinsfolk betrayed to his death with a
kiss!
Had I but time--had I respite--well might I wail for this!
(C) Never was murder compassed so with villainy fraught,"
Unto the King said Siegfried, "as this that on me ye have wrought!
In the day of your dread I saved you, I helped you in bitterest need:
And for all my service rendered this is mine evil meed!"
Yet again that death-stricken hero spake with an anguished moan:
"If it be possible, Gunther, that to any on earth can be shown
By thee true faith hereafter, let one be commended now,
My dear-loved wife, to thine honour as a king: protect her thou.
May this for her profit avail her, that she is thy sister still.
By all the honour of princes, defend her thou from ill!
For me, for me shall my father and my liegemen tarry long.
Ne'er from her nearest and dearest hath woman received such wrong!"
(C) Then writhed he in mortal sufferance: he gasped with hard-drawn
breath;
And he groaned from a heart sore anguished: "For this my murderous
death
Through all your days hereafter shall ye bear the brand of Cain.
Know me herein true prophet--your own selves have ye slain!"
To right and to left were the flowers all drenched with the crimson
flow.
Now hard with death is he wrestling, but short is the agony-throe,
For the wound that the blade death-dealing had stricken was all too
sore.
Now the peerless knight and stainless shall never speak word more.
When they saw, those lords there standing, that the noble hero was
dead,
They lifted him up, and they laid him on a golden buckler red.
{P. 136}
Then took they counsel together that the truth might be known unto
none,
And how this thing should be hidden, that of Hagen the deed had been
done.
Spake of them many: "Evil this day is, a day of bale!
Remaineth only concealment: ye needs must be all in a tale.
We must say, as alone he was riding, robbers beset and slew
The hero, the lord of Kriemhild, as he fared the wildwood through."
Spake Hagen of Troneg: "To Rhineland will I bear him, even I.
No whit shall it trouble Hagen, though she know all certainly,
That woman who dared flout Brunhild, and fill her heart with woe!
Let her weep, let her do as she listeth--I shall reck of it little
enow."
(C) Now as touching that selfsame fountain--if ye peradventure be
fain
To learn where welleth the water whereby was Siegfried slain--
On the Odenwald's fringe a village, hight Odenheim, doth lie:
Still floweth the stream--of a surety Siegfried died thereby.
XVII.
How Siegfried was Mourned and Buried
Till the even they waited; in darkness they crossed the Rhineflood
then.
Never from eviller hunting came heroes home again!
That quarry was cause of lamenting unto many a noble wife:
For his sake must many a warrior forfeit a gallant life.
Of exceeding arrogant outrage now must the minstrel sing,
Yea, of revenge inhuman; for Hagen made them bring
The Netherland hero Siegfried, even his murdered kin,
Before a certain chamber--and Kriemhild lay therein!
Secretly there he laid him, before that door to lie,
That his wife might find his body when her feet came forth thereby
Unto mass in the grey dawn faring ere rising of the sun;
For thereof the Lady Kriemhild missed full seldom one.
{P. 137}
Then heard they the bells as aforetime peal from the minster-tower;
And Kriemhild the lovely wakened the maidens of her bower;
And she bade bring lights, and the raiment withal that she should
wear;
And a chamberlain bringing them stumbled on Siegfried lying there.
He beheld one blood-empurpled, with all his vesture wet;
But that this was his own lord Siegfried in no wise knew he yet.
So bare he into the chamber the torch in his hand that burned;
And from him the Lady Kriemhild a tale of horror learned.
For, even as she with her maidens would forth to the holy place,
"O Lady," the chamberlain stammered, "tarry a little space!
Behold, without the chamber a murdered knight doth lie!"
Rang out from the lips of Kriemhild an exceeding bitter cry.
Ere she had looked, ere the fearful truth was certainly known,
Back to that question of Hagen her thought had swiftly flown,
How he should shield him. Anguish she never had known till that day;
But now with his death all gladness from her life had fled away.
To the floor then sank she swooning; no word her lips could say.
There in the heavy silence the lovely and joyless lay.
Full was her cup of sorrow, sharp was her anguish-pang.
She came to herself with a wild shriek, that all the chamber rang.
Then faltered her bower-maidens, "A stranger it haply may be."
But the blood from her mouth came bursting in her heart's fierce
agony--
"O nay, it is Siegfried, Siegfried, my lord, my belovèd one!
Brunhild hath plotted the murder, and Hagen the deed hath done!"
Then forth did her handmaids lead her, where lay the hero dead;
And the wife's white hands uplifted the husband's comely head.
Albeit with blood all crimsoned, he was known of love's keen sight.
There lay the Niblung hero in lamentable plight.
Then the cry of a queen's heart-anguish through the shadowy palace
pealed
"Woe for my bitter affliction!--behold, how lieth thy shield
With swords unbacked! O Siegfried, thee did a murderer smite!
Him--knew I the doer--my vengeance to the uttermost should requite!"
{P. 138}
Brake forth into wailing her maidens with lamentation loud
With her, their belovèd Lady: they mourned all sorrow-bowed
For their noble King and their Master, lost unto them for aye.
Foully avenged by Hagen was Brunhild's wrath that day!
Then spake the sorrow-stricken: "Let some one haste away,
And swiftly arouse from slumber my Siegfried's vassal-array:
Let him tell withal unto Siegmund the tale of my bitter pain.
He must bear his part in the wailing o'er valiant Siegfried slain."
Then ran a messenger, hasting where lay the warrior-band
Of the vassals of King Siegfried, the Lord of the Netherland.
That story of sore tribulation stripped bare their life of its joys.
They believed not, till came far-ringing that lamentable voice.
Hasted the messenger onward, where the old King lay on his bed;
Yet not on the eyes of Siegmund had the dews of slumber been shed,
For dimly his heart foreboded the sorrow hard by the door.
He was doomed to behold his belovèd, his son, in life no more!
"Wake thee, O wake, King Siegmund! Tidings to thee I bring
From the Lady Kriemhild my mistress--there hath happed a fearful
thing.
Above all woes known or imagined she hath suffered grief and wrong.
Thou must bear thy part in the wailing, for to thee doth the sorrow
belong."
Uprose then Siegmund, and questioned: "For what lamenteth she,
My daughter, Kriemhild the lovely, as now thou sayest to me?"
"Sore cause hath she for lamenting," weeping the messenger said:
"Murdered is Siegfried the valiant, her lord and her love lieth
dead!"
Answered and spake King Siegmund: "Jest me no jests! Have done
With a tale of such evil tidings concerning Siegfried my son!
Unto no man say thou hereafter that slain he is!--O nay,
For then could I never with wailing have done to my latest day!"
"Nay then, if thou wilt not believe me, if thou wilt not receive my
tale,
Thou shalt learn for thine own self--hearken! for that is Kriemhild's
wail
And the cry of all her maidens for Siegfried in death laid low!"
Sharp terror thrilled through Siegmund, and pangs of unfeignèd woe.
{P. 139}
He sprang from his bed: gathered round him a hundred men of his
band.
Each man had caught up swiftly a sword keen-whetted in hand.
Forth ran they whither the woeful death-keen guided them on,
And after them knights a thousand, bold Siegfried's vassals, are
gone.
Was none that bethought him of vesture, till suddenly these drew nigh
Where the long wild wail of the women went shivering up to the sky.
In their anguish had none remembered; they knew not what they did;
All thought was buried with sorrow in the grave of their hearts deep
hid.
So came King Siegmund where Kriemhild crouched by Siegfried's side:
"Woe for our journey hither to this land accursèd!" he cried.
"Who hath reft from thee thine husband, hath torn this son most dear
From me by the hand of murder, when none but friends were near?"
"Ha, if I knew but the felon," in fierce grief answered the Queen,
"Never mine heart should forgive him while memory's edge is keen!
With such vengeance would I requite him, that all his friends and his
kin.
Trust me, should weep for my weeping, should find their affliction
therein!"
Then in his arms did Siegmund embrace that fallen chief;
Then rose from all his lovers so mighty a cry of grief
That with that wild lamentation did hall and palace ring,
And wailed up the streets of the city the shrieks wide-echoing.
Who then to the wife of Siegfried to speak of comfort dared?
They drew off the blood-stained raiment, and his goodly limbs they
bared.
They washed his wounds dark-clotted, they laid him on the bier.
High swelled the tide of anguish in all that held him dear.
Then cried aloud his warriors that came from the Netherland:
"Ready and eager for vengeance waiteth ever our hand.
Here in this castle he lurketh of whom the deed was done!"
Then hasted the knights of Siegfried to gird their armour on.
With their shields those chosen heroes full-armed returned again,
Brave knights eleven hundred; they were all of the warrior-train
Now of the old King Siegmund: full fain for the death of his son
Would the father have taken vengeance; yea, honour spurred him on.
{P. 140}
But as yet these wronged ones knew not upon whom should their
vengeance light,
Unless peradventure with Gunther and his vassals they closed in
fight;
For these on that woeful hunting with Siegfried rode that day.
Then all-armed Kriemhild beheld them, and filled was her soul with
dismay.
How wild was her grief soever, how tortured soever her breast,
Yet for the lives of the Niblungs she trembled terror-distressed,
Lest by the men of her brethren they be slain; and she earnestly
spake,
And in love she warned them, as ever doth friend for a dear friend's
sake:
And she cried from the depths of her sorrow: "My lord, O Siegmund
King,
What would ye essay? Ye know not how all too hard is the thing.
For the valiant men of Gunther be a passing great array:
Ye shall perish all of a surety, if ye fall on so many as they!"
But they clashed their uptossed bucklers, with the battle-lust were
they mad.
But the noble Daughter of Princes now pleaded, and now forbade
Those knights all battle-eager to rush upon their doom;
And it troubled her very sorely that they would not be turned
therefrom.
Then she turned to the King--"Lord Siegmund, for this time sheathed
be the sword
Till there come a convenient season. Fear not, for my murdered lord
I will help you to wreak full vengeance. Who hath torn my love from
mine hands
Shall drink of my vengeance deeply, when once convicted he stands.
But here by the Rhine so many of our haughty foes there are,
That I counsel you, I beseech you, rush not yet into war.
They can set in array full thirty where we can set but one.
May God so do to the traitors as they unto us have done!
Abide ye here in the palace, and mourn for my dead with your Queen,
Until the day beginneth, O heroes battle-keen:
Then help me to lay in a coffin the man beloved of me."
Answered the thanes: "Dear Lady, as thou wilt, so shall it be."
The marvel of that lamentation, no man can tell it o'er,
How the wail of the knights and the maidens, like the stormy
tempest-roar,
{P. 141}
Shrieked through the shuddering city till all her people heard,
And thitherward hasted the burghers, a great throng terror-stirred.
They joined to the guests' their wailing, they grieved for the glory
gone.
Wherein had Siegfried offended, unto no man was it known:
Nay, none could divine cause wherefore the good knight lost his life.
So wept with the Queen's handmaidens many a burgher's wife.
Now for the silversmiths sent they, and bade them haste to mould
A great and strong-knit coffin of silver and ruddy gold;
And with burnished steel they bade them brace it in every part.
All folk were of sorrowful spirit, and exceeding heavy of heart.
By this was the night passed over: one said, "Lo, day is near."
And the noble Queen commanded to the minster-door to bear
Her royal dead, her husband for ever well-beloved;
And with her all friends sore weeping in long procession moved.
So when to the minster they brought him, tolled forth many a bell,
And the chant of the priests rose upward, and the requiem's solemn
swell.
And thitherward King Gunther and all his liegemen came.
Yea, Hagen the grim mid the mourners stood--and had no shame!