Part 2

[12] Of simple folk and merry there rode with her enough; While many loaded horses bore much costly stuff, Brought there from her birthland by followers of the maiden; They came with her by thousands, with gold as well as clothing heavy-laden.

[13] On the shore of two wide marches, the dwellers by the sea, As they saw the west wind waft her, gave her welcome free; They found a seemly lodging for the lovely, well-born lady, And brought her all things needful, by the youthful king, before, for her made ready.

[14] The fair young maid they welcomed with knightly tournament; Not soon their games they ended, when on the spear-fight bent. To the land of Ger his father they bore her to be wedded; She there was loved and mighty, and men to sound her name she never needed.

[15] All, as they were able, waited on the maid; The gaudy cloth for her saddle down to the grass was spread; The horses’ hoofs were hidden by the housing, heavy drooping. Aha! In mood how gleeful was Ireland’s lord, once more a blessing hoping!

[16] When now the time was fitting that he the maid should kiss, All crowded thick about him, in haste to see their bliss. The bosses of their bucklers were now heard loudly clashing, Struck with blows together; each strove to shun the throngs, in uproar crashing.

[17] Now with the dawn of morning, they sent out, far and wide, To give to all the tidings of the coming of the bride, And that, with their master, they erelong would crown her. His queen she was thereafter, and well she earned from him the honor shown her.

[18] It was not deemed becoming that he his love should plight, Since she by birth was queenly, and he not yet a knight: He first, before his lieges, must the crown be wearing; To this his kinsmen helped him, and later of his worth were all men hearing.

[19] He, with knights five hundred, then was dubbed with the sword; Whatever they could wish for was given them at his word,— Both shields, and, for their wearing, every kind of clothing. The youthful king so dauntless, thro’ life, of fame and honor wanted nothing.

[20] For many a day thereafter his sway did Ireland bless, And never did his greatness at any time grow less. To all he freely listened; the poor man’s wrongs he righted; Widely known was his goodness; no truer knight than he his word e’er plighted.

[21] His boundless acres yielded a full and ready gain; His wife was known for wisdom, and worthy to be his queen. To hold her as their mistress full thirty lords it booted; As long as the sway she wielded, her hand to each his lands and home allotted.

[22] She bore unto her husband, within the next three years, A child to see most comely; (such is the tale one hears.) When later he was christened, and they were told to name him, They gave the name of Hagen; and never since, the tale of his life doth shame him.

[23] He had most careful breeding, and kindly was he nursed; Should he be like his fathers, he would of knights be first. Watched over by wise women, and by maidens of early age, His father and fond mother found in his face their glad eyes’ pasturage.

[24] When now the boy, well fostered, to his seventh year was bred, ’Twas seen that he by warriors by the hand was often led. He was happy in men’s teaching, but was with women wearied; All this he knew no longer; for, torn from them, he far away was carried.

[25] Whene’er to him it happened weapons at court to see, He understood them readily, and their wearer longed to be; The helmet and ringed armor would he have put on gladly: Alas! not long he saw them, and all his hopes of fighting ended sadly.

[26] While the kingly Sigeband, beneath a cedar-tree, One day on the turf was seated, the queen said earnestly: “Although good name and riches we share with one another, At one thing yet I wonder, and this from you I dare to hide no further.”

[27] He asked of her: “What is it?” Then said his helpmeet kind: “It me doth sorely worry in body and in mind, And my heart, alas! is heavy; to my wish you give no heeding, To see you ’midst your vassals, my beaming eyes with pride upon you feeding.”

[28] The king to her thus answered: “How should it ever be That you have had such longing me with my knights to see? I will strive thy will to follow, of this think not so sadly; Ever to meet thy wishes, both care and toil will I give myself most gladly.”

[29] She said: “No man is living who owns such wealth, I trow, Who has so many castles or lands so wide as thou, With silver and gems so costly, and gold so heavy weighing; For this are our ways too lowly, and nought there is in life to me worth saying.

[30] “When erst I was a maiden, and on Scotland’s soil drew breath, (Chide not, my lord, thy helpmeet, but list to what she saith,) I there was daily seeing the liegemen of my father For highest prizes striving; but here such games we never see together.

[31] “A king so rich and mighty, as you in name have been, Before his followers often should let himself be seen; He oft should ride in tilting with other champions knightly, That both himself and his kingdom should seem more fair, and hold their rank more fitly.

[32] “It shows, in a lord so noble, a most unworthy mind, When he has heaped together riches of every kind, If he with his faithful warriors to share them is unwilling: When men in the storm of warfare deep wounds have had, how else can they find healing?”

[33] Then said to her King Sigeband: “Lady, you mock at me; In all these warlike pastimes I will most earnest be; And for the strife so worthy my wish shall never waver: No man shall find it easy the ways of well-born kings to teach me ever.”

[34] She said: “You now for warriors must send throughout the land; Stores of wealth and clothing must be given with open hand. I too will send out heralds my kinsmen all to rally, And to show them my good wishes; we then shall find our life to pass more gaily.”

[35] At this the king of Ireland unto his wife thus said: “I yield to you most willingly, for men are often led By the wishes of fair women great feastings to make ready; I therefore now will gather my brave and hardy kinsmen, and those too of my lady.”

[36] To him the queen then answered: “Sorrow no more I wear; Five hundred women’s garments I will give, to each her share; To four and sixty maidens gay clothes to give I’m willing.” Then the king did tell her high times he soon would hold, his word fulfilling.

[37] The sports were then bespoken: he bade his men to send, In eighteen days or sooner, to liegeman and to friend, To say to all in Ireland, who would in his games be riding, That, after summer was ended, they should spend the winter, with him abiding.

[38] He bade his men make benches, so our tale doth run, And for these, from out the wilderness, timber must be drawn; For sixty thousand warriors seats must they make ready. His henchmen and deft stewards, to do this work for the king, were skilled and speedy.

[39] Thither men then hastened on many a winding way; All were kindly cared for throughout their lengthened stay. Now from Ireland’s kingdom, as the king had bidden, Full six and eighty thousand of warriors strong there to his court had ridden.

[40] From the store-rooms of the castle clothing now was borne,— All the gear they wished for, and all that could be worn. Shields were also given, and steeds of Irish breeding; The proud and queenly lady bedecked her guests with all they could be needing.

[41] She gave to a thousand women costly clothes enow, And likewise to fair maidens what one to youth should allow,— Broidered bands and jewels, and silk that glistened brightly; The many lovely ladies, together standing there, were fair and sightly.

[42] To every one who wished it were given clothes well-made. Horses were there seen prancing, by the hand of foot-boys led; These light shields did carry, and their spears were seizing. U-te, the queenly mother, was gladly seen, as she on the leads sat gazing.

[43] The guests by the king were bidden freely in tilts to meet; The glitter of their helmets grew dim in the dust and heat. The ladies, held in honor, near by were also seated, Where they the deeds of the warriors saw full well, and with words of wonder greeted.

[44] As oft before has happened, the show had lasted long; The king was not unwilling to be looked on by the throng. This, meanwhile, to his lady happiness was giving, As she, amidst her women, sat on the roof, and saw their earnest striving.

[45] When now her lord had ridden, as doth beseem a king, He thought to end their onsets; some rest to them to bring He deemed not unbecoming; to stop the games he bade them. And then before the ladies, after their skill thus shown, he proudly led them.

[46] U-te, the high-born lady, began her friends to greet, With those from far-off kingdoms; them as guests to meet The queen was truly willing; on them her glad eyes rested. The gifts of Lady U-te were not on scornful friends that evening wasted.

[47] Knights and lovely ladies together there were seen. The good-will of the master to all well-known had been; In all their games and tilting, his kindness was not hidden. Once more the guests, that evening, to ride in warlike strife by him were bidden.

[48] Their games and sports had lasted until nine days were gone; They, as knights befitteth, their skill to the king had shown. By the many wandering players the show was liked the better, And they plied their work more briskly, and hoped that their reward would be the greater.

[49] Sackbuts loud and trumpets there might all men hear; Fluting too and harping fell upon the ear. Some on the rote were playing, others in song were vying; They, by their jigs and fifing, soon would better clothes for themselves be buying.

[50] On the tenth morn it happened, (now hark to my sorry tale,) That, after all their pastimes, there rose a bitter wail. About these days so merry new tales were told on the morrow; And tho’ they now were mirthful, they came to know deep gloom and heavy sorrow.

[51] When the guests were seated beside their kingly host, There came to them a player, and proudly made his boast That he, before all others, (who should indeed believe him?) Was far more skilled in playing, and even the greatest lords their ear must give him.

[52] Outside, a lovely maiden was leading by the hand The little son of Sigeband who swayed the Irish land; With him were likewise women who to the boy gave heeding, And friendly kinsmen also, who carefully taught the child, and oversaw his breeding.

[53] Within the great king’s palace was heard a din and shout; All were there heard laughing, the roomy walls throughout. The guardians of young Hagen crowded up too nearly, And thus lost sight of the maiden, together with the child they loved so dearly.

[54] The evil luck of their master to him that day drew near, And brought to him and U-te sudden woe and fear. Sent by the wicked devil, from afar his herald hasted To them in their happy kingdom; they were by this with sorrow sorely wasted.

[55] It was a strong, wild griffin had quickly thither flown; From the little boy of Sigeband, who ever care had known, Came ill luck to his father, who soon of this was tasting. His son, so well-belovéd, to him was lost, with the mighty bird far hasting.

[56] A shadow now came o’er them, from wings that bore him fleet, As if a cloud had risen; great strength had the bird, I weet. The guests, in pastime busy, no thought to this had given, And the maid, with the child she was leading, was standing now alone, unheeded even.

[57] Beneath the weight of the griffin forest trees broke down; And now the trusty maiden looked where the bird had flown; Then she herself sought shelter, and left the child forsaken. Hearing a tale so startling, one truly might the whole for a wonder reckon.

[58] The griffin soon alighted, and in his claws he held The little child, gripped tightly, while with fear it quailed. His ghastly mood and anger the bird was harshly showing; This must knights and kinsmen long bewail, with sorrow ever growing.

[59] The boy was sorely frightened, and began aloud to shriek; Higher the mighty griffin flew, with outstretched beak; To the clouds above them floating he his prey was bearing. Sigeband, lord of Ireland, loudly wept, his outcries never sparing.

[60] His friends and all his kinsmen the sorry tale soon heard; They, in the death of his offspring, his bitter sorrow shared. Downcast were he and his lady, and all their loss felt nearly; Sorely they wept together, mourning the boy, now torn from them so early.

[61] In this their mood so gloomy, the happy, merry plays Must now be sadly ended. Before their frightened gaze, The griffin so had robbed them that all for home now started, Sober, and filled with sadness. They truly felt forlorn, and heavy-hearted.

[62] The king was bitterly weeping, his breast with tears was wet; The high-born queen besought him his sorrows to forget, Thus wisely to him speaking: “Should all in death be stricken, There must be an end of all things; it is the will of God their lives hath taken.”

[63] Now all would hence be faring, but the queen to them did say: “I beg you, knights and warriors, longer with us to stay; Our gifts of gold and silver, that here for you are ready, You should not think of meanly; our love for you is ever true and steady.”

[64] The knights to her bowed lowly, and then began they all To say how they were thankful. The king, thereon, did call For silken stuffs, the richest, for all who there yet tarried; They had ne’er been cut nor opened; and from far-off lands had erst to the king been carried.

[65] He gave them also horses, both palfreys and war-steeds; The horses out of Ireland were tall and of hardy breeds. Red gold was likewise given, and silver without weighing; The king with care had bidden outfit good for his guests, no longer staying.

[66] Soon as the queen was willing, each her leave now takes, Both lovely maids and women; each one herself bedecks With gifts that made her fairer; all new clothes are wearing. The high times now are ended; Sigeband’s land they leave, and are homeward faring.

Tale the Second. HOW HAGEN SLEW THE GRIFFIN.

[67] Of how their stay was ended I will speak no longer here; Now I tell you further of the rushing flight in the air, That the child with the angry griffin far away was bearing. For this his friends and kinsmen long in their hearts were heavy sorrow wearing.

[68] Because the Lord so willed it the child was not yet dead; But, none the less, he later a life of sadness led, After the harsh old griffin back to his nestlings bore him. When on their prey they gloated, hard toil enough the boy had now before him.

[69] Soon as the bird that bore him did on his nest alight, He dropped the boy he carried, and in his claws held tight; One of the young ones caught him: that he did not devour him Thanks to God thereafter were given, far and wide, for the watch kept o’er him.

[70] Else the birds had slain him, and with their claws had torn. Now listen all with wonder, and his bitter sorrow learn: Hear how the king of Ireland then from death was shielded; Him a young bird now carried, strongly clutched, and naught of his grip he yielded.

[71] From tree to tree in the forest he with the boy took flight; The bird a little too boldly trusted his strength and might. Upon a branch he lighted, but now to the ground must flutter, For he was much too heavy; in the nest to have longer staid had methinks been better.

[72] The child, while the bird was falling, broke from him away, And hid among the bushes, a little, lorn estray; Well-nigh was he to starving, ’twas long since food he tasted. Yet on a day long after the hopes of women in Ireland on him rested.

[73] God doth many a wonder, truly one may say. By the craft of the mighty griffin, it came to pass one day, Three daughters fair of princes had been taken thither, And now near by were dwelling. No man can tell how there they lived together,

[74] And how, thro’ days so many, their lives to them were spared, Were it not that God in heaven for them in kindness cared. Hagen now no longer need live without a fellow; Those good and lovely maidens soon found the little waif in a rocky hollow.

[75] When, crawling to his hiding, they the child did see, It might, so thought the maidens, a dwarfish goblin be, Or perhaps it was a water-oaf, from out the sea up-driven; But when the boy came near them, at once a welcome kind to him was given.

[76] Hagen was ware of the maidens, as into their cave they stole, While with fear and sadness their little hearts were full, Before they yet had knowledge that they a Christian greeted. But the care they later showed him lifted the pain from many hearts o’erweighted.

[77] First spake the eldest maiden: “How darest thou in our cave, Where from the God of heaven we home and shelter have? Go, seek again thy playmates, the billowy waters under; Enough ourselves we sorrow, and on our bitter lot in sadness ponder.”

[78] The high-born child then answered: “I pray you let me stay; I truly am a Christian, you must not say me nay. One of the griffins seized me, and to the cave did carry; I cannot live all lonely, and here with you would I most gladly tarry.”

[79] Then to the child so friendless they loving welcome gave; But they of his worth thereafter did better knowledge have. They now could ask him only, whence he had been stolen; But, such was then his hunger, in telling his tale, his heart was full and swollen.

[80] Then spake the little foundling: “Food I sorely need; Give to me, in kindness, a little drink and bread. ’Tis long since I have had it, and now three days I’m fasting, The while the griffin bore me, and full a hundred miles was hither hasting.”

[81] Then answered one of the maidens: “Our lot it so hath been, That we our wonted cup-bearers never here have seen; Neither our lordly steward, who should food to us be giving.” Still they praised God’s goodness; altho’ their years were few, they were wisely living.

[82] A search they soon were making for roots and herbage wild, Wherewith they hoped to strengthen Sigeband’s darling child. Such food as they had lived on they gave to him most freely; To him ’twas a meal unwonted, but such as they long time had eaten daily.

[83] Yet he needs must eat it, for hunger sore he hath, And hard it is to any to meet with bitter death. Thro’ all the days so dreary, while with the maidens dwelling, To them his help most willing he ever gave, his thankfulness thus telling.

[84] They, too, had him in keeping, that can I say for truth; He there grew up in sadness, throughout his early youth; Until, one day, the children, to make them greatly sorrow, Before their cavern-dwelling saw wonders rise, that threatened more to-morrow.

[85] I know not from what border, tossing o’er sea to land, Came to those shores so rocky a holy pilgrim band. The ground-swell it was heavy, and rocked the bark full sorely; Thereat the banished maidens felt their care and sorrow growing hourly.

[86] Soon the ship was shattered; not one his life could save. Quickly the stern old griffins came down beside the wave; Seizing many drowned ones, back to their nest they hurried. Many a woman was mourning, soon as the sorry tale to her was carried.

[87] When to the hungry nestlings the food they took in haste, Back again the griffins came from their offspring’s nest; From what far spot I know not, along the sea-paths flying. Their young they left on the hillside, with a neighbor grim, while they were hither hieing.

[88] One day the goods of the sailors Hagen saw near the sea, For many had been drowned there; holy men were they. He thought, among the wreckage, food might still lie hidden; But, through fear of the wicked griffins, he softly crept to the shore, by hunger bidden.

[89] No one could he find there, but a body in armor alone; Thereby the wild old griffin hard work would give him soon. Out from his armor he shook him, nor did he spurn to wear it: He found a bow and weapons, by its side, on the sandy shore, lying near it.

[90] With these himself he girded, that simple little child; When in the air above him he heard a rushing wild. He wished that he had loitered, the sorry little master; But quickly came the griffin; to the sheltering cavern fain would he flee the faster.

[91] The bird swung down in anger to the sandy beach and foam; The little playmate and fellow of the young it left at home, Would by the angry griffin have at once been swallowed; But now the bold young Hagen the ways of a daring foeman bravely followed.

[92] He with strength but youthful the tightened string drew out, And arrows swift and many from the well-bent bow he shot. Alas! he did not hit him; what hope of his ill-luck turning? Then he of the sword bethought him; he heard the maids bewailing him and mourning.

[93] Tho’ his years were not yet many, he still was brave enough; A wing from the angry griffin he struck at the shoulder off, And in the leg he smote him a heavier blow and stronger; So that his wounded body the bird away from the spot could drag no longer.