Part 25

Then seemed unto Blödel the castles and the gold a guerdon fair, And the witchery of beauty to his heart became a snare. Fain was he by battle-prowess to win that fair-one to wife: But foredoomed thereby was the warrior to cast away his life. He spake to the Queen: "To the feast-hall pass thou unto thy place. Ere these be ware of the peril, a tumult will I upraise. For the wrong he hath done thee shall Hagen make atonement at last, When this King Gunther's liegeman in bonds at thy feet I cast. Now arm you all, my liegemen!" to his vassals did Blödel cry. "We will forth against our foemen where in harbourage they lie. My Lady, the wife of King Etzel, constrains me to this assay. We must needs all set on the hazard life and limb this day!"

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So when from Blödel the warrior the Queen had wrung consent To make beginning of conflict, to the feast-hall thence she went Beside the great King Etzel, and their knights behind them pressed. A terrible doom for the strangers she purposed within her breast. (C) In what order they passed to the banquet unto you shall the song declare: Men saw great kings and mighty the crown before her bear; Yea, high-born princes many and thanes of high degree Before the Queen did service in great humility. (C) The King to his guests appointed their seats through the feast-hall wide, And the chiefest and noblest among them were nearest set to his side. For Christian knights and heathen were diverse meats prepared, Yet all to the full were feasted, for all in his wisdom he cared.

(C) Apart in the place of their lodging for the squires was a feast arrayed, And there before them the sewers all things in order laid With diligent heed that nothing of all they lacked should fail:-- Too soon were revel and joyance turned into woe and wail!

Now since the flame of battle could be lit in none other way,-- For the old pain crying for vengeance in Kriemhild's heart still lay,-- She caused that her child and Etzel's to the banquet-board should be brought. How by a vengeful woman could fearfuller deed be wrought? Forth four men went from the feast-hall of Etzel's following, And returned with the young prince Ortlieb, the little child of the King; And they set him before the princes--and Hagen sat thereby, He through whose murderous hatred that child was doomed to die.

So then when the great King Etzel beheld his son brought in, In faith and in lovingkindness he spake unto Kriemhild's kin: "Behold, my friends and my kinsmen, mine only son is this, And the child of Kriemhild your sister: your friend that shall be he is. If he favour his Rhineland kinsmen, a stalwart man shall he be, Mighty withal and noble, valiant and comely to see. {P. 262} If I live, I will make him ruler of lordships twelve in my land: So service fair shall be rendered to you of Ortlieb's hand. Therefore I fain would pray you, belovèd kinsmen mine, Whensoe'er again ye be riding homeward unto the Rhine, That ye take him, the child of your sister, in that day home with you, And show all lovingkindness to my son as kinsmen true. Train him in ways of honour, till unto man he shall grow; Then, if to your land a mischief be done of any foe, And he to his strength be waxen, his aid unto you shall he bring." --And all this speech heard Kriemhild, the wife of Etzel the King.

"Yea, well may all these warriors in his loyal faith confide, If ever he grow unto manhood," grimly Hagen replied; "But the young king is but a weakling, I trow, in outward show. Not oft to the court of Ortlieb shall folk behold me go." Then the King looked sharply at Hagen, for stung by the word was he, Albeit he answered nothing, of his kingly courtesy; Yet his soul was chafed and indignant, for he deemed it nowise good. Yea, also was Hagen's spirit nowise in jesting mood. No less than the King were his servants indignant, a princely band, That so evilly Hagen had spoken of the child of the lord of the land. To sit and endure such insult as gall to their spirit seemed; But of that which ere long by the warrior should be done, ah, little they dreamed! (C) Full many that heard it, whose hatred of him already was hot, Would fain have fallen upon him--yea, that would the King, I wot, Had his honour permitted; the hero had then been in evil plight. More cruelly soon did he wrong him, that he slew his child in his sight.

XXXII. Of the Slaughter of the Squires and the Slaying of the Slayer

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Now the knights that Blödel gathered arrayed themselves forthright. To the feast-hall they hied them, a thousand in hauberks harnessed for fight, To the hall where ranged at the tables the squires with Dankwart sate. Soon brake there forth between heroes the deadliest of all hate.

In strode the war-thane Blödel, and afront of the board stood grim. But with friendly courtesy Dankwart the Marshal greeted him: "With welcoming to our mansion, Lord Blödel, I hail thee now; Yet I marvel at thy coming. What tidings bringest thou?" "Thou hast nothing to do to greet me," sternly Blödel spake; "Seeing my coming hither an end of thee shall make, For that Hagen thy brother murdered Siegfried years agone; For the deed with heroes many shalt thou to the Huns atone." "Now nay, my good Lord Blödel," peaceably Dankwart replied; "Sooth, this were a sorry ending for us all unto this high-tide! But a child was I when Siegfried departed from light and life. No cause know I why hated I should be of Etzel's wife." "For thee, I know not and care not how the truth of the story lies: Thy kinsmen, Hagen and Gunther, did it in any wise. Defend you, ye doomed and homeless! Ye live not another day! Here, now, with your lives the forfeit unto Kriemhild must ye pay!"

"Ha, will ye forbear not?" cried Dankwart, "ye messengers of death! I repent me of mine entreaty: I had better have spared my breath!" That keen knight battle-eager leapt from his place at the board; He swept from out the scabbard a mighty and long sharp sword: Therewith hath he dealt unto Blödel a stroke that as lightning flashed; And lo, his head in the helmet down at his feet was dashed. {P. 264} "That be thy morning bride-gift," the war-fain warrior cried, "To the widowed wife of Nudung, whom thou wert to win for bride! Ay, let them wed her to-morrow to another traitor yet: If he craveth a dower, that Blödel hath gotten shall he too get!" So scoffed he touching the tidings that a Hun true-hearted had brought Of the plot whereby Queen Kriemhild the destruction of all these sought.

Then saw the men of Blödel how their good lord lay slain, And their hands from the guests Burgundian no longer would they refrain. With swords for the onset uplifted they rushed in furious mood On the squires--but this their emprise ere long full many rued. With a great voice then to his henchmen all did Dankwart cry: "Ye see well, squires brave-hearted, they have doomed us all to die! Now, homeless men, defend you, for sore is your need, I ween, --So then for this were we bidden guests of a gracious queen!" Then, whoso were swordless, 'twixt table and seat good weapons they found, For many a massy footstool swung they up from the ground. O yea, those youths Burgundian would flinch no foot from the fray, But with those ponderous maces the foes' helms dinted they. How grimly the friendless yeomen defended them in the fight! Those armèd knights from the feast-hall they drave in huddled flight. Five hundred--yea, more, it may be--fled not, for they lay there dead. There yeomen and squires all blood-drenched stood and crimson-red.

In a little while thereafter these heavy tidings came To the knights of King Etzel: with anguish and wrath were their souls aflame That Blödel with all those warriors nought save death had won. This had the brother of Hagen with his squires and his yeomen done. Or ever the King might hear it, a host of the Hunfolk stood, Two thousand--yea, more, it may be--mail-clad, in furious mood. They fell on the squires--one ending alone could there be to the strife;-- And they left of all that concourse no single soul in life. For a mighty host did the traitors lead to that hostelry, And the homeless men unarmoured withstood them valiantly. {P. 265} What profited strength and valour? One doom of death did they find. --But the feet of a terrible vengeance were treading close behind. Now must ye hear a marvel and a horror hard to be said: Burgundian squires nine thousand in the hall of blood lay dead, And with these lay the knights of Dankwart, twelve battle-helpers good; And alone at last and unholpen in the midst of his foes he stood.

The uproar fell to silence, the tumult was stilled for a space; Then Dankwart glanced around him o'er the slaughter-reeking place: "Alas for the dear friends," cried he, "that here in death lie low! And I--woe's me!--I am standing alone in the midst of the foe!" Upon that one man in fury did countless sword-strokes leap: But the wife of many a hero for this had cause to weep. Higher he lifted his buckler; the arm-brace lower he drew. Then many a rifted harness was drenched with crimson dew. Cried Aldrian's son: "My torment is greater than man may bear! Give way, ye knights of the Hunfolk; let me win forth to free air, That over the warfare-weary the cooling breeze may play!" To the door through blows down-hailing he gallantly hewed his way. When the battle-weary champion forth of the portal sprang, How many swords unblooded then on his helmet rang Wielded by them who had seen not the marvels wrought by his hand! Forth leapt to meet them the hero, the pride of Burgundia-land.

"Now would to God," cried Dankwart, "that a messenger were but nigh, Who should tell my brother Hagen of mine extremity, Who am thus by armèd traitors beset before and behind! Me from their midst would he rescue, or his own death here would he find." Answered the Hunfolk scoffing: "That messenger thou must be, When into thy brother's presence we drag a dead man--thee! Then first shall the liegeman of Gunther gaze on his own heart's woe. Thou to the men of King Etzel hast here done mischief enow." "Have done with your threats!" he shouted. "Give back, ye traitor brood! Else many a man's war-harness will I drench with his own life-blood. {P. 266} I, even I, to the palace will bear these tidings of bane, And there of the wrong and the outrage to my lords will I complain."

Then he plunged in their midst, and such havoc he wrought in the Hunnish horde, That they shrank before him, and dared not close in the strife of the sword; But they hurled their spears, till so thickly did the shafts in his buckler stand That the weight thereof constrained him to cast it away from his hand. Then thought they to overbear him, that one man shieldless left. Ha! but he hewed two-handed, and through helmet and brain he cleft. Before him many a brave man went reeling and staggering back. High praise and renown bold Dankwart won in the battle-wrack. Then leapt his adversaries upon him to left and to right:-- Ha! but of these full many too hastily came to the fight! Full on the foemen charged he, as chargeth a forest-boar On the hounds in the wood--was valour like his seen ever before?

Ever gushing as streams from a fountain the hot blood reddened his way. Did e'er knight single-handed more gallantly turn to bay Facing such hosts of foemen as in that hour did he? On pressed to the palace the brother of Hagen triumphantly. The cupbearers heard and the stewards the bickering blades' fierce clang, And they caught at their swords, down casting the cups on the floor that rang: Some clutched spears, dropping the bakemeats that they to the feast-hall bare; So when Dankwart won to the palace, fresh foemen thronged the stair. "How now, ye knightly sewers," did the weary warrior say, "Of a truth, to the guests of your master meet service should ye pay, And should bear to the waiting princes the goodly meats through the hall, And let me bear to my masters the tidings I come withal." Whosoe'er with presumptuous courage to bar his coming essayed, Upon him with his swinging war-glaive such giant strokes he laid, That the rest all terror-stricken fell back from his fierce onslaught. Marvels exceeding mighty by his prowess had he wrought.

XXXIII. How the Fight began in Etzel's Hall

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So then when the aweless Dankwart strode through the feast-hall door, Shouting to Etzel's servants, "Back! bar my path no more!" Behold, with the blood of slaughter all his apparel dripped, And a sword exceeding mighty unsheathed in his hand he gripped.

(C) In that instant it was, when Dankwart through the portal entered so, That men were bearing Ortlieb through the feast-hall to and fro From table unto table to the princes one after one-- And now through his evil tidings was the innocent undone! For loud and clear cried Dankwart in the presence of all that throng: "Thou sittest, O brother Hagen, here at thine ease too long! Unto you and to God in Heaven of wrong unto us I complain. Our knights and our squires together in the hostelry lie slain!" Cried Hagen to him in answer: "Now who hath done this thing?" "This was the deed of Blödel and of them of his following: But dearly he paid for his treason, unto all men here be it said; For with these mine hands from his shoulders have I hewn the traitor's head."

"He hath paid for his wrong too lightly," Hagen the dauntless cried, "If men may but say of the traitor as of any knight who hath died, That stilled by the hands of a hero he hath slept the iron sleep; Fair ladies for one so smitten shall have less cause to weep. Make answer to me, dear brother, how art thou thus all red? I trow thou hast been sore wounded, and full evilly hast sped. If the villain be here in presence who did this deed contrive, Except the Foul Fiend help him, he goeth not hence alive!" "Nay, before you I stand unwounded; my raiment is wet with blood; But it gushed from the deadly gashes of other war-thanes good {P. 268} Whereof this day so many beneath my sword-edge fell-- If I must make oath of their number, good sooth, I could not tell."

"Brother Dankwart," he cried, "our warder of yon door do thou be, And let no man of the Hunfolk win forth of the hall by thee. Now with these knights will I reason, as our wrong constraineth us. Dead lie our fellows guiltless: it is they have entreated them thus!" "Must I," said the valiant hero, "be the chamber-sentinel? In presence of kings so mighty the office liketh me well. Dear as I cherish mine honour, I will faithfully guard yon stair." At his word on the knights of Kriemhild fell the shadow of despair.

"Now exceeding sorely I marvel," rang Hagen's bitter jeer, "What secret the Hunfolk whisper each in his fellow's ear. I ween they would gladly spare him who watcheth yonder the door, Who unto the men Burgundian such royal tidings bore! Long time since, I bethink me, have I heard Queen Kriemhild say That she would not endure her anguish of heart unavenged for aye. A loving-cup to her vengeance! In Etzel's wine be it poured! And the first to spill the death-drink be the hope of the Hunfolk's Lord!" Then he lashed at the young child Ortlieb, Hagen the terrible thane, That down o'er his hand from the sword-blade did the blood of the innocent rain, And into the lap of his mother hurled was the head from the stroke. Then mid the knights a murder grim and great awoke. For next on the young child's guardian, which tended him truly and well, A mighty stroke two-handed swift as the lightning fell, That afront of the foot of the table his head on the floor was cast. A woeful guerdon he gave him for all his travail past!

He marked where at Etzel's table was seated a minstrel-man: Swiftly upon him Hagen in madness of fury ran; He smote him where on his viol rested the bard's right hand-- "That have thou for the message thou broughtest to Burgundy-land!" {P. 269} "Woe for mine hand!" cried Werbel the harper of Etzel the King. "Wherein, Lord Hagen of Troneg, have I wronged thee in anything? I came to the land of thy masters in faith and in loyalty. How shall I waken my music who am maimed of mine hand by thee?" Little enow recked Hagen, though never he harped again! Then up and down the feast-hall he raged, till his hands had slain Full many a knight of Etzel, to sate his murder-lust: Many an earl in the palace through the gates of death he thrust.

Volker the battle-eager from his place at the table sprang; His viol-bow now was his war-glaive, and loud in the hands it rang Of that viol-minstrel of Gunther: a music of death did he wake: Many a foe mid the Hunfolk for kinsmen slain did he make. Leapt up withal from the table the noble Princes three: They would fain have parted the fighters, ere wilder the work should be, But all in vain was their prudence, and nothing availed their might; For those twain, Volker and Hagen, were mad with the fury of fight.

Now ware was the Lord of Rhineland that he could not still the fray: Then himself unsheathed his war-glaive, and fell on the foes' array, And he cleft their shining hauberks, and dealt wounds deep and wide. What man of his hands was the hero that havoc testified. Then also Gernot the stalwart plunged mid the surges of strife: Out of many a valiant champion of the Huns he smote the life. With the keen-edged brand of battle, the gift that Rüdiger gave, For many a knight of Etzel did he open the gates of the grave. Then the youngest son of Uta hurled into the tempest-roar: His battle-brand victorious through many a morion shore Of the warriors of King Etzel, the pride of the Hunfolk's land. Ay, marvels of hero-prowess were wrought by Giselher's hand. But, how brave were the rest soever, the kings and their vassal-train, Yet no man like unto Volker might ye see, as he battled amain Facing the starkest foemen--ha, 'twas a warrior good! Many a champion before him fell wounded to death in his blood.

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Of a truth the liegemen of Etzel made stout defence that day: But the guests--ye might see them hewing forth and back their way Through the length and breadth of the feast-hall of the King with the lightening brand, While scream and groan of the stricken went up on every hand. Then they without right gladly would have holpen their friends within: But when they would force that doorway, small honour could they win. And they in the hall full gladly would have gotten to outer air, But past that door-ward Dankwart might none set foot on the stair.

So gathered before that portal throngs upon throngs of foes, And loud were the helmets ringing as the swords dealt crashing blows. Then hardly bestead was the warder, Dankwart the unafraid; But his brother marked his peril, as love and loyalty bade. With a mighty voice unto Volker straightway did Hagen shout: "Seest thou yonder, my comrade, how beset by a Hunnish rout Alone my brother standeth, while down on him stark blows rain? O friend, do thou help my brother, ere sped be the valiant thane." Made answer the viol-minstrel: "Yea verily will I so." Through the hall he strode to the music of that strange viol-bow, That sword of the ice-brook's temper, that rang in his grasp evermore; And the Rhineland knights as they heard it gave hearty thanks therefor. Then unto Dankwart Volker the aweless hero said: "This day hast thou sorely travailed, and now art thou hardly bestead: Wherefore to me for thine helping did Hagen thy brother appeal. Them from without withstand thou, and with these from within will I deal."

Now without is the door well warded, for Dankwart the keen stands there. Whosoever would win the threshold back hurled he down the stair. To the ringing music of sword-blades in many a hero's hand Within was the door well warded by Volker of Burgundy-land. Then over the tossing tumult a cry did the minstrel send: "Safe warded is the mansion, thou seest, Hagen my friend {P. 271} The door of Etzel's palace is locked and bolted amain Fast as with bars a thousand, by the hands of heroes twain!" So then when Hagen of Troneg saw that the door was fast, That battle-eager hero his shield behind him cast; Then, then in grimmest earnest he began to avenge the wrong. Then faint grew the hearts of the valiant, and palsied the might of the strong.

When the Prince of Bern, Lord Dietrich, saw the marvels that he wrought, Saw Hagen the valiant cleaving the morions as he fought, Then sprang the chief of the Amals on a bench amidst of the hall, And he cried: "Here Hagen poureth a death-draught bitter as gall!" Well might the Lord of the Hunfolk be stricken with sore affright. --What hosts of his friends were falling down gulfs of death in his sight!-- Death's wings overgloomed him, for round him was closing the foes' stern ring. In anguish he sat--what profit was it now unto him to be King? Then cried in her fear unto Dietrich Kriemhild, a great king's wife: "Help me, O noble hero, O help me hence with life! By the chivalrous honour I pray thee of the princes of Amelung-land! For if yon Hagen reach me, death is at my right hand." "How may I avail to help thee," Dietrich the princely said, "O noble Daughter of Princes? For myself do I stand in dread, So fiercely the wrath is kindled of yon King Gunther's array, That for no man's life can I answer in this season of dismay." "Now nay, Lord Dietrich, noblest of all knights," cried the Queen; "Let the chivalry of thy spirit in this dark hour be seen. Forth of this place do thou help me or ever I lie here dead!" Of a surety the spirit of Kriemhild was anguished with mortal dread. "Nay then, if perchance it avail you, your help will I essay, Albeit have I seen never through many a perilous day Aflame with such bitter fury such hosts of warriors good. I see from the helmets spurting 'neath sword-strokes ever the blood!"

Then did that peerless warrior uplift a shattering shout: Like the horn of a wild bull blaring his mighty voice rang out, {P. 272} That through all the wide-built fortress its thunder-echoes rolled; So great was the strength of Dietrich, its measure may not be told. Then heard that shout King Gunther, and he hearkened thereunto As it pealed o'er the battle-tempest, and the voice of the hero he knew; And he cried: "The voice of Dietrich!--it fell on mine ear but now. Our knights in the battle have smitten a friend of his, I trow. There on the table I see him: he beckoneth with his hand. Ho ye, my friends and kinsmen, knights of Burgundia-land, From the strife for a little refrain you, that so we may hear and see What hurt hath been done unto Dietrich by them of my company."