Part 28

But again made answer Kriemhild: "O Rüdiger, noble chief, Think also on us; have pity on all our wrongs and our grief, Upon mine and my Lord King Etzel's; yea, ponder well thereon. No host in the wide world ever more pestilent guests hath won." Thereat unto Queen Kriemhild did the Lord of the Marches say: "His life must be rendered in payment by Rüdiger this day For all the kindness showed me of thee and my Lord the King. For this must I die: remaineth no space for lingering. This day I know of a surety my castles and my land Shall be yielded up, shall be wrested from me by a foeman's hand. I commit to your lovingkindness my wife and my fatherless child, And all mine household abiding in Bechlaren's halls exiled." "Now God reward thee," answered the King, "O Rüdiger!"-- Even he and the Lady Kriemhild, so glad at heart they were-- "The care of all thy people as a solemn trust we receive. Yet, as I hope salvation, I look that thyself shalt live."

So did he set on the hazard both soul and mortal life. And now brake forth into weeping Kriemhild, Etzel's wife. But he said: "I must keep unbroken the oath that I sware unto thee. Alas for you, friends! Sad-hearted I become your enemy!" So from King Etzel's presence he departed heavy of cheer; And he looked, and behold, his warriors to their lord had now drawn near. And he cried: "Ye must forthwith arm you, all ye my faithful ones. Woe's me, I must needs do battle with Burgundia's valiant sons!" {P. 297} Straightway his warriors shouted, "Ho, bring my battle-gear!" Then here might ye see a helmet, and a massy buckler here Across the court borne swiftly by the squires for their lords to don. Too soon were the evil tidings to the haughty strangers known!

Now Rüdiger stood full-armoured, with his five hundred men: Twelve knights of Etzel's war-band joined them withal to him then: They thirsted to win them glory in the storm of the battle-strain-- But they knew not the end of the story, nor that death should be all their gain. Strode forward under helmet the Lord of the Marches there. Battle-glaives keen-whetted the knights of Rüdiger bare: Each man gripped by the arm-brace a broad shield burnished bright; And the viol-minstrel beheld them, and his heart sank down at the sight.

And behold, his fair bride's father young Giselher saw come, On his gallant head his helmet:--what should he divine therefrom As touching the warrior's purpose, but the help of a loyal ally? And his soul went out to meet him, his heart with joy beat high. "Thank God for such true friendship," in gladness the young Prince cried, "As we won for our help in trouble, when we rode unto this high-tide! Now unto us deliverance for my young bride's sake draws nigh. By my faith, my heart rejoiceth that wedded to her am I!" "On a broken reed thou leanest," the viol-minstrel said. "When sawest thou heroes so many with helmet laced on head Draw near for reconcilement, and with swords made bare in the hand? Against us he cometh, to render service for castles and land."

Or ever the viol-minstrel had fully spoken the word, In front of the great hall-portal men saw that noble lord. He set his goodly buckler on the earth before his feet, And he looked on the friends he could help not, on the faces he might not greet. Then cried the noble Margrave to the hall, a cry of woe: "O dauntless men of the Niblungs, now guard you against a foe! {P. 298} Ye ought to have had mine helping--that debt will never be paid! We were friends close-knit by troth-plight--to my troth am I renegade!" Then sorely aghast at his saying were the warriors hard-bestead. Their joy for his coming withered, and hope at the birth fell dead. This friend must battle against them, he whom they loved was their foe! From their enemies had they suffered travail and hurt enow.

"Now God in Heaven forbid it," Gunther the knightly cried, "That this thy friendship to usward so utterly be belied, And the trust wherewith we trusted in our own familiar friend! Nay, but I will not believe it, that all this so shall end!" "For me there is no returning," the valiant warrior spake. "With you I must needs do battle, even for mine oath's sake. Now stand on your guard, brave heroes, by all your love of life! From mine oath will she not release me, this King Etzel's wife."

"Too late," the King made answer, "thy love dost thou forswear. Now God on high reward thee, thou noble Rüdiger, For the faith and the lovingkindness that thou hast shown us still, So thou to the end maintain it, and all thy pledge fulfil. Unto thee will we aye be beholden for the gifts that thou didst give, Even I and my friends, so thou leave us unharmed of thee to live, For the sake of the gifts most princely whereby our trust was won When to Etzel's land thou didst bring us. O Rüdiger, think thereon!" "How gladly this would I grant you," the good thane Rüdiger said, "How gladly lavish upon you the gifts of my bountihead, So much as my soul desireth--how gladly do all this, And no serpent-tongue of slander against my name should hiss!"

"Ah Rüdiger, refrain thee!" Prince Gernot pleaded yet. "Never a host before thee with kindlier welcome met Guests, nor with mien so gracious, as we were greeted of thee; And for this, if we win hence living, requited shalt thou be." {P. 299} "Would God, O noble Gernot," in anguish Rüdiger said, "That ye were again in Rhineland, and that I were lying dead With mine honour still unsullied, since I cannot but fall on thee! Never were heroes entreated of friends so evilly!" "Lord Rüdiger, God reward thee," again did Gernot reply, "For the gifts of thy princely bounty! Distressed for thy death am I, In that all that chivalrous spirit should be doomed to perish with thee. Lo here that sword which thou gavest, O noble thane, unto me. Not once this steel hath failed me through this distressful tide; Beneath its undulled edges hath many a hero died: A lordly blade and a goodly, stubborn it is and bright. Of a truth, such royal bounty was never bestowed of knight. Yet, if thou wilt nowise refrain thee, but wilt raise against us thine hand, If thou slaughter these my kinsmen which here beside me stand, Then with thine own good war-glaive I needs must take thy life. Wherefore for thee I sorrow, and for thy noble wife." "May God vouchsafe it, Gernot, and may it so befall, That in all things as thou desirest, so may it be, yea, in all, And that thou and all thy kinsfolk in life may long endure! In you should the trust of the widow and my fatherless child be sure."

Spake Giselher, son of Uta, the Prince of Burgundy: "How canst thou so, Lord Margrave? These which have come with me, Unto thee are they all love-bounden. An ill deed dost thou essay! Thy daughter by thee shall be widowed, who scarce is a bride this day. If thou and thy battle-helpers beset me now in fight, What treason unto friendship should this be in all men's sight, For that beyond all other in thee did I confide In the hour wherein I won me thy daughter to be my bride!" "Ah, think thou on thy troth-plight!" spake Rüdiger answering; "And if God shall bring you safely forth hence, O noble king, Requite not thou on my daughter the sin of Rüdiger. By all thy princely honour, be gracious unto her!" {P. 300} "It were meet that I held to the troth-plight," young Giselher replied; "Yet, if mine high-born kinsmen who stand in the hall at my side, If these by thy deed shall perish, snapped is the twofold chain, The love 'twixt me and thy daughter, and the friendship 'twixt us twain."

"Then God have mercy upon us!" so did the hero groan. Then his men uplifted their bucklers, and now were at point to set on Against those guests, to grapple in fight in Kriemhild's hall:-- But suddenly from the stair-head aloud did Hagen call: "For a little space yet tarry, O Rüdiger, noble heart!" Said Hagen; "once more commune we, ere the links of friendship part, With thee, even I and my masters, in our sore extremity. What profit is this unto Etzel, that here the homeless die? Myself am in grievous trouble," furthermore Hagen spake: "The shield that the Lady Gotlind gave me to bear for her sake, Even this in the strife with the Hunfolk was in fragments hewn from mine hand; A memorial of thy kindness I brought it to Etzel's land. Now would that God in Heaven would grant to me this one prayer, That such a trusty buckler even I might also bear As that which is on thy shoulder, O Rüdiger, noble knight! Then, though I had not a hauberk, I were fenced in the storm of the fight." "How gladly to thee would I render my shield for thy battle-screen, If I dared unto thine hand give it in presence of Kriemhild the Queen!-- Yet take it, O take it, Hagen, and grip it thou with thine hand. Ah, that thou mightest but bear it back to Burgundia-land!"

When that warrior noble-hearted so freely gave his shield, Red grew the eyes of heroes many, with hot tears filled. That was his last gift--never again, till time shall end, Will Rüdiger of Bechlaren give aught to guest or friend. How stern soever was Hagen, and unused to the melting mood, Yet thrilled with ruth was his spirit for the gift which the hero who stood Now on the very grave-brink so freely gave unto him. Mourned many a high-born warrior, and their eyes with tears were dim.

{P. 301}

"Now God in Heaven reward thee, Rüdiger, noblest of men! In all the earth thy fellow shall never be seen again, Who givest to friendless warriors the best of all thy store. May God vouchsafe that the glory of thy goodness live evermore! Woe's me for the word thou bringest!" Hagen cried again: "Already we bear a burden too heavy of grief and pain. God pity us, if battle we must with a friend like this!" Answered the Lord of the Marches, "As thine my heart's grief is." "Now, Rüdiger noble-hearted, thee for thy gift I requite: Whatsoever in battle betide thee from any prince or knight, Not against thee uplifted in anger shall be mine hand, Though thou slay till thou leave none living of the men of Burgundia-land." Bowed unto him in silence that noble-hearted thane; And all men brake into weeping. That nought might make them refrain From such sorrow-fraught contention, it was sore calamity. In Rüdiger perished the father of all true chivalry!

Then Volker the viol-minstrel cried from the stairway's height: "Forasmuch as my comrade Hagen his peace unto thee doth plight, That same shall be moreover assured thee from mine hand. Of a surety well didst thou earn it at our coming into this land. Take thou, O noble Margrave, the message I leave with thee: These ruddy golden armlets Dame Gotlind gave unto me To wear them at this great high-tide, a memorial of her love, I do it, thyself beholdest: be thou my witness thereof." "Now would to God in Heaven," earnestly Rüdiger cried, "That the Margravine might give thee as many more beside! Unto my wife, my belovèd, full fain will I tell the tale, If so be that I live to behold her: doubt not my word shall fail."

Soon as the promise was given, a shield the knight up-caught: No whit more there would he linger: unto madness of fury wrought He leapt on the guests Burgundian like a knightly battle-lord. Fast, fast the strokes down-lightened from the mighty Margrave's sword. {P. 302} Twain, even Volker and Hagen, aside from his path withdrew, According as these two champions erewhile had pledged them to do. Yet dauntless foes so many by the gate-tower fronted him That the Margrave in that first onset knew well that his peril was grim. Gunther and Gernot, for slaughter athirst, let him win his way Into the hall: like heroes eager they were for the fray. But Giselher shrank from his coming, for his heart was wrung with pain; And he would not face him in battle, being loth to slay or be slain.

Now the men of Rüdiger's war-band swarm up to meet their foes After their lord undaunted; in the grapple of fight they close; Keen armour-sundering weapons in mighty hands they wield; Many a helmet cleave they, they hack through many a shield. Then also the battle-weary flashed many a lightning stroke Down on the men of Bechlaren: the unswerving edges broke Deep through the strong-linked hauberks, yea, to the heart they won. Of these in the storm of battle was many a marvel done.

Now in the hall were gathered all Rüdiger's gallant array. No longer hung back Volker and Hagen; they plunged mid the fray; They thrust, and they spared not any, save one only man; They smote, and from riven helmets the blood in torrents ran. Wildly and sternly the clangour of the hailing sword-strokes rang: Steel buckler-bands were shattered, the loosened shield-plates sprang: The precious stones of their blazons to the blood-pools flashed like rain. Never shall such grim battle be fought in the world again!

To right and to left death's highway the Lord of Bechlaren hewed; Sank roaring surges of battle before his fury subdued. By deeds was approved the prowess that day of Rüdiger, A lord of the ringing battle, without reproach or fear. Unflinching there stood Gunther and Gernot side by side: They lashed at the reeling war-ranks, and many a hero died. {P. 303} Smote Giselher and Dankwart, and of life and limb recked nought; Many a stalwart champion to his latest day they brought.

Of his giant strength the Margrave gave tokens all too true: Dreadless and mighty-weaponed, how many a foe he slew! That saw a Prince Burgundian, and his grief and wrath 'gan swell:-- Then, then death's imminent shadow o'er the noble Rüdiger fell:-- It was Gernot the strong; to the hero he shouted across the hall, To the Margrave crying: "So many of my people before thee fall, Thou wilt leave, O Rüdiger, living no man of my vassal-train! I am stung into wrath above measure; from vengeance no more I refrain! Now shall the gift thou gavest be turned into scathe for thee, Since thou of my nearest and dearest hast reft so many from me. Hitherward turn thee, face me, thou noble and dreadless man! For thy gift will I give full payment, the uttermost that I can."

Ere, cleaving the war-waves, the Margrave might win unto where he stood, Bright rings of many a hauberk were crimson-sullied with blood; But at last those glory-cravers in the deadly grapple clashed; And they smote, and the death swift-leaping with the buckler aside they dashed. Yet nought might withstand the keenness of their swords all-sundering; And Rüdiger the Hero smote mightily Gernot the King, Smote through the flint-hard helmet, that the blood rushed down the blade: But swiftly the good knight dreadless that deadly stroke repaid. In his hand was the gift of the Margrave; he swung on high that steel: Though unto death he was wounded, yet one grim stroke did he deal: It crashed through the hard-knit buckler, it shore through the helmet-band-- Alas, the doom went with it of the lord of the open hand!

Ah me! such rich gifts never so ill requited were. Down fell they dead together, Gernot and Rüdiger. In the war-storm each by other smitten on one doom came; And Hagen saw, and his anger burst into sudden flame, {P. 304} And shouted the Hero of Troneg: "Evil hath come upon us! Such grievous hurt have we suffered by these who have perished thus, That for two lands and two peoples nor amends nor atonement there is. To the homeless shall Rüdiger's heroes now pay forfeit for this!"

(C) No mercy they showed thereafter, no foeman would they spare. Many a man down-beaten not sorely hurt fell there, Who might of his wounds have recovered, but overwhelmed by the flood Of war, 'neath the trampling of fighters he was drowned in a lake of blood. "Ah, woe is me for my brother," cried Giselher, "here laid low! Woe for the tale of sorrow that hour by hour doth grow! Yea, for my young bride's father for ever must I lament. The bitter scathe is twofold, and the grief that mine heart hath rent." Giselher looked on the father of his bride, where dead he lay; Then turned he from him to his vengeance on the last of the foes' array. Death stalked through the hall aye searching for the men of the Margrave slain, Till of all Bechlaren's vassals alive did none remain.

Thereafter Gunther and Hagen and Giselher the young, And Dankwart and Volker the minstrel, the knights of fame far-sung, Unto that place went together where those dead twain were found, And sorely wept and lamented those heroes song-renowned. "Evilly death hath robbed us!" cried the young Prince Giselher: "Yet now refrain your weeping: let us forth to the outer air; Let us cool these reeking hauberks, O battle-weary thanes. Unto us, I ween, God willeth that but little of life remains."

Sitting was one, one leaning against the stairway-wall; But again their hands were idle, for Rüdiger's liegemen all Lay dead within: the tumult of war had fallen asleep. Then Etzel's heart misgave him, so long was the hush and so deep. "Woe's me for this treacherous service!" in anger cried the Queen: "Too long be they holding parley! Our enemies therewithin {P. 305} Are like to be wholly scatheless of our champion Rüdiger's hand! He is plotting to send them safely back to Burgundia-land! What boots it, O King Etzel, that on this man we have heaped All wealth he desired soever? A foul return have we reaped! He that was pledged to avenge us, a truce with our foes will he make!" Unto her made answer Volker, and the knightly minstrel spake: "Not so, alas, is the story, O Queen exalted high; And--dared I unto such high-born lady to give the lie-- Thou dost lie in thy throat most foully of Rüdiger's trust betrayed. A sorry truce with the homeless he and his knights have made! With such good will he accomplished the hest of the King his lord, That he and all his liegemen be lying slain with the sword. Look round thee now, Queen Kriemhild, for another whom thou mayst send, For truly hath Rüdiger served thee unto the bitter end. If haply thou wilt not believe me, let thine eyes bear witness to thee." Then, to her heart's deep anguish, they gave proof plain to see; For they brought that mangled hero unto where of the King was he seen. Never the knights of Etzel knew grief so bitter-keen.

When they saw the corpse of the Margrave held forth in their sight, ah then Utterly it passeth the power of tongue or pen To tell of the wild lamentation that from women and men wailed high, The voice of a people's anguish, an exceeding bitter cry. So passing great was the sorrow of Etzel the mighty King, That, as when a wounded lion maketh the forest ring With his roar, so loud he lamented, and the Queen shrieked forth her pain. So wailed they in measureless dolour for noble Rüdiger slain.

XXXVIII. How Dietrich's Men were all slain

{P. 306}

So measureless-wide the wailing swelled in that dolorous hour, That with cries of lamentation re-echoed palace and tower; And the tumult was heard by a warrior of Bern, who was Dietrich's man, And bearing the heavy tidings to his lord in haste he ran. He spake to the princely hero: "Lord Dietrich, hearken my tale: Through all the years of my life-tide such agony of wail Never I heard upshrieking, as that I have hearkened but now. The King himself, even Etzel, hath come unto scathe, I trow. For what cause else should the people with one voice all make dole? Of the twain one, Etzel or Kriemhild, is no more a living soul. By the wrath of the dauntless strangers have they slept the iron sleep, And countless knightly heroes in measureless anguish weep." But the Lord of Bern made answer: "True liegemen mine, beware Lest in judging ye be o'er-hasty: what desperate deed soe'er Hath been done by the homeless heroes, sore need constraineth their will. My peace with them I plighted--let this advantage them still."

Then out spake Wolfhart the dreadless: "Lo, I will hence to the hall: I will ask of sorrow her story, what woe hath chanced to befall, And to thee will I bring the tidings, O well-belovèd chief, So soon as I learn what meaneth that voice of a people's grief," Spake Dietrich the noble: "When heroes in each face look for a foe, And one cometh with rough sharp questions, where a word is like a blow, Then all too quickly enkindled their smouldering anger is: Therefore I will not, Wolfhart, that thou question touching this." Then he commanded Helfric to go swift-hastening, And he bade him ask of the matter from the folk of Etzel the King, {P. 307} Or, as it might be, from the strangers, what hap had befallen there; For never had such lamentation of a multitude thrilled the air.

So the messenger came, and he questioned: "What thing hath chanced this day?" And a woeful voice made answer: "All joy hath fled away, Yea, the last that was yet remaining to the Hunfolk's stricken land! Here lieth Rüdiger, slaughtered by some Burgundian hand; Not one of his liegemen liveth, that with him went into the fight." Never could woefuller tidings on the ears of Helfrich smite; Never so loth in spirit a tale to his lord he bore; And he came back unto Dietrich weeping and mourning sore. "What hast thou learnt?--thy tidings?" Dietrich spake forthright. "Why weepest thou so sorely, O Helfrich, my good knight?" "Good cause have I for lamenting," answered the noble thane: "The good Lord Rüdiger lieth by hands Burgundian slain!" Cried the Hero of Bern: "Forbid it, God, that this should be! This were a ghastly vengeance, 'twere the Fiend's arch-mockery! Rüdiger?--how should he ever such evil requital have earned? True friend to the homeless strangers was he, long since I learned." Cried Wolfhart the lion-hearted: "If the righteous blood they have shed, All these shall dearly abye it! Their lives be forfeited! If we should endure such outrage, our shame and reproach it were! How oft hath it rendered us service, the hand of Rüdiger!"

The Prince of the Amal people bade them inquire yet more. He sat him down at a casement: heavy his heart was and sore. Old Hildebrand he commanded to the warrior guests to speed, And to hear from their lips the story of this most evil deed. The good knight battle-fearless, old Master Hildebrand, Took neither sword nor buckler; all weaponless was his hand: He purposed to go to the strangers in knightly courtesy; Thereat the son of his sister chode with him angerly. {P. 308} Spake the grim warrior Wolfhart: "And goest thou fenceless there? Then flout and scoff for answer, be sure, they will not spare; And so, like a hound well beaten, with shame wilt thou turn again! But go, like a man, war-harnessed, and their malapert tongues will they rein."

Thereat did the old knight arm him, after the young man's rede; And, or ever Hildebrand knew it, stood all in battle-weed The eager warriors of Dietrich: sword in hand stood they. And the hero was grieved, and had turned them, an he might, from their purposed way. "Whither away?" he asked them. "Thither will we with thee; And haply Hagen of Troneg less eager then shall be With jeering speech to mock thee, as his cruel wont is still." And the hero hearkened and answered, "Be it then as ye will."

Then looked forth Volker the valiant, and the knights of Bern he saw, The liegemen of Lord Dietrich, full-harnessed thitherward draw, Girded about with war-glaives, with bucklers gripped in hand; And he told it unto his masters, the Lords of Burgundia-land; And spake the viol-minstrel: "Yonder I see draw near The vassal-throng of Dietrich, like foes in battle-gear Harnessed, and under helmet, as who would beset us in fight. I ween we homeless heroes shall now be in evil plight."