Part 19

Then answer'd he of Trony, "Fear prompts not what I rede. If so you'll have it, heroes, fall to the work and speed; You'll find me not the hindmost to ride to Etzel's realm." Soon shatter'd he thereafter many a shield and many a helm.

IX

The boats were waiting ready, the band was muster'd there; Thither his choice apparel each one made haste to bear. Their toil was scarce well over ere eve fell on the lea; So from their homes they parted as merry as might be.

X

Beyond the Rhine's fair current their hasty camp was seen; There tents and proud pavilions bespotted all the green. The lovely queen her husband detain'd for that one night, The last they spent together, dole mingling with delight.

XI

At early dawn there sounded sweet flute and trumpet-clang; 'Twas the hour of parting; to work the warriors sprang. With a hasty kiss fond lovers were then constrain'd to sever. With woe and death fell Kriemhild soon sunder'd them for ever.

XII

The children of fair Uta a man had at their court, Bold alike and faithful, in all of best report. The same, as they were going, drew the king aside. "Woe's me," said he, "dear master, you to this feast will ride."

XIII

The good knight's name was Rumolt, a tall man of his hands. Said he, "To whom commit you your people and your lands? Would one could turn your warriors to do what best you should; This message of your sister's it never seem'd me good."

XIV

"This is my will and pleasure; to thee my infant heir, To thee I trust my country; of the women take good care; Whomever thou see'st weeping, his woe with comfort charm. Sure at the hands of Kriemhild we ne'er can come to harm."

XV

For the kings and for their liegemen the steeds were ready ranged; How many then, with kisses of true love interchanged, Full flown with lively vigor, athirst for bold emprise, Left each a stately lady to droop in tears and sighs.

XVI

When light into their saddles up sprang the warriors good, Then might you see the women how sorrowful they stood. All felt, they did for ever, and to their doom, depart, A dreary, dark foreboding, that shakes the firmest heart!

XVII

As the bold Burgundians rode forth in gallant show, To see them all the country ran hurrying to and fro. On either side the mountains both men and women wept. Little reck'd they the weepers; their joyous course they kept.

XVIII

In habergeons a thousand the knights of Nibelung's reign, Who many a lovely lady they ne'er should see again Had left at home in sorrow, rode gaily with the rest. The wounds of Siegfried fester'd in Kriemhild's throbbing breast.

XIX

So went they ever onward until the Main they spied, Thence up through Eastern Frankland the men of Gunther hied. Well knew the roads Sir Hagan, who led their steps aright; Their marshal was Sir Dankwart, the stout Burgundian knight.

XX

As on from Eastern Frankland to Schwanfeld still they rode, Their grace and stately courtesy and knightly bearing show'd, The princes and their kindred deserv'd their lofty fame. The king on the twelfth morning unto the Danube came.

XXI

A space the Knight of Trony rode on before the host; He still the Nibelungers best cheer'd and aided most. The fear-defying champion alighted on the lea, And fast beside the river his horse tied to a tree.

XXII

Swoln was the roaring river, bark was there none to spy; Every bold Nibelunger look'd on with wistful eye In doubt how to pass over, the surges spread so wide. Many a good knight from saddle down sprung the stream beside.

XXIII

"Good Lord of Rhine," said Hagan, "much mischief here may be, Much may'st thou have to suffer, as thou thyself may'st see. Strong is the flood and furious, the stream can ill be cross'd. Many a good knight, I fear me, will here to-day be lost."

XXIV

"Why dost thou check me, Hagan?" the troubled king 'gan say; "Do not, as thou are valiant, the daunted more dismay. Look out a ford up higher, above these lower meads, Where we may pass in safety our baggage and our steeds."

XXV

"I never," answer'd Hagan, "my life so weary found, But in these burly billows 'twould irk me to be drown'd. Many a knight of Etzel's, ere yet my day be o'er, By this good hand shall perish; that, 'faith, would please me more.

XXVI

"So here beside the water, ye noble knights, abide; Myself will seek the ferrymen along the river side, And bid them bring us over hence into Gelfrat's land." With that the sturdy Hagan took his good shield in hand.

XXVII

Well arm'd was the stern champion; he bore a shield of might; Strongly lac'd was his helmet, well-temper'd, burnish'd bright; His broadsword in a baldric hung o'er his armor sheen; Wounds could it cut full ghastly with both its edges keen.

XXVIII

As there and here for boatmen look'd out the warrior good, He heard a splash of water; listening awhile he stood. The sound came from wise women, who took their pleasure near, Bathing for refreshment in a fountain cool and clear.

XXIX

'Ware of them was Hagan; nigh he closely crept; Sudden they espied him,--how away they swept! That they had so escap'd him, their bosoms swell'd with joy; He seiz'd upon their raiment, nor wrought them more annoy.

XXX

Then one of them bespake him (Hadburg was her name), "Noble knight, Sir Hagan, go seek a worthier game. Give us back our raiment, and we will tell thee all That from this march to Hungary shall thee and thine befall."

XXXI

Like water-hens they floated before him on the wave. Him seem'd, their well-known wisdom of truth assurance gave; Hence what they chose to tell him, he took with more belief. Then thus they of the future resolv'd the listening chief.

XXXII

Said th' one, "To Etzel's country (doubt not what Hadburg saith) You well may ride and safely, for that I pledge my faith, And never band of heroes sought kingdom far or near To win such height of honor; 'tis true as we are here."

XXXIII

Well pleas'd her speech Sir Hagan, his heart wax'd light and gay; He gave them back their vesture, and would no longer stay; But when again the mermaids had donn'd their wondrous weed, They told in truth, how Gunther in Hungary should speed.

XXXIV

And then the other mermaid, that Sieglind hight, began, "I will warn thee, Hagan, thou son of Aldrian; My aunt has lied unto thee her raiment back to get; If once thou coms't to Hungary, thou'rt taken in the net.

XXXV

"Turn, while there's time for safety, turn, warriors most and least; For this, and for this only, you're bidden to the feast, That you perforce may perish in Etzel's bloody land. Whoever rideth thither, Death has he close at hand."

XXXVI

Thereto gave answer Hagan, "In vain you cheat and lie, How can it ever happen that there we all shall die, However fierce the hatred that one to us may bear?" They then began the future more fully to declare.

XXXVII

Then thus the first bespake him, "Yet so it needs must be; Not one of you his country again shall ever see, Not one but the king's chaplain; this well to us is known; To Gunther's land in safety return shall he alone."

XXXVIII

Then angrily Sir Hagan bespake her, frowning stern, "'Twere ill to tell my masters what they'd disdain and spurn, That we should all in Hungary death and destruction find. Now show us o'er the water, wisest of womankind."

XXXIX

Said she, "Since from this journey, it seems, thou wilt not turn, Up yonder by the river an inn thou may'st discern. A ferryman there dwelleth; no others here abide." The knight believ'd her answer, and took her words for guide.

XL

Him then the first call'd after as gloomily he went, "Stay yet awhile, Sir Hagan, why so on haste intent? Hear better our instructions to reach the farther strand. A margrave, that hight Elsy, is lord of all this land.

XLI

"He has a valiant brother (Sir Gelfrat men him call), A great lord in Bavaria; ill might it you befall, If through his march you travel; your course with caution plan, And smoothly deal and gently with yonder ferryman.

XLII

"He scarce will leave you scathless (so fierce is he and rude), Unless with sound discretion you temper his rough mood. Would you he'd put you over, pay down at once the fare. He is a friend of Gelfrat's and of this land has care.

XLIII

"And, should the ferryman tarry, across the river shout, And say your name is Amelrich, whom late a feud drove out Perforce from this, his country, a knight of birth and fame. Good speed will make the ferryman when once he hears the name."

XLIV

For all reply Sir Hagan to the wise ladies bow'd; Then in his gloomy silence strode off the warrior proud. Still higher up the river along the shore he hied, Until a lonely hostel on th' other bank he spied.

XLV

He straight across the water 'gan call with all his might, "Come, carry me over, ferryman," shouted the lusty knight. "Of ruddy gold an armlet I'll give thee for thy meed. Come, carry me, well thou knowest how pressing is my need."

XLVI

The ferryman was wealthy, to serve he scarce could bear, And hence it seldom happened he deign'd to take a fare. His men were like their master, as moody and misproud. Still on this side Sir Hagan stood ever shouting loud.

XLVII

So loud and strong he shouted, that all the water rung, While the deep-chested warrior thus thunder'd from his tongue, "Come, put me o'er, I'm Amelrich, who Elsy serv'd and sued, The same who from this country fled for a mortal feud."

XLVIII

High on his sword an armlet held out the champion bold (Bright was it and glittering and ruddy all with gold) That he might be put over thence into Gelfrat's land. Then took the burly boatman himself an oar in hand.

XLIX

He was in sooth, that boatman, an ill-condition'd elf. Nothing leads men to ruin like hankering after pelf. He thought by ferrying Hagan his ruddy gold to get; A sword-stroke for an armlet, and death for gain he met.

L

With sinewy might the boatman row'd o'er to yonder strand, But not the man he heard of sprung to the boat from land. The ferryman wax'd furious when Hagan there he found; Thus he bespake the hero, and speaking darkly frown'd.

LI

"Your name it may be Amelrich for ought I know," said he, "But you're like him I look'd for as little as can be. In sooth he was my brother, by father and mother's side You've put a trick upon me, so on this bank shall bide."

LII

"Nay, think again, for heaven's sake," Sir Hagan made reply, "In pain for sundry comrades a foreign knight am I; So take my fare contented, and kindly put me o'er; You'll bind me to your service, your friend for evermore."

LIII

"No, no," replied the ferryman, "it must not, faith, be so; My good lords all around them have many a deadly foe; For this, I ne'er put over strangers into this land, So, as your life you value, out with you to the strand."

LIV

"Nay, speak not so," said Hagan, "you see my drooping cheer; Take of me, and welcome, the gold I hand you here, And ferry a thousand horses and as many knights of pride." "That will I do never," the ferryman grim replied.

LV

With the word up caught he an oar both broad and long, And lent the knight a buffet so sturdy and so strong, That in the boat he brought him at once upon his knee. Such a boisterous boatman never before met he.

LVI

Yet more the haughty stranger to wrath would he provoke, So on the head of Hagan a boat-pole next he broke, The ferryman of Elsy was sure a lusty wight, Yet naught but loss and ruin got he by all his might.

LVII

The grim knight up starting ended soon the fray; To the sheath quick gripp'd he wherein his weapon lay. Off he his head has smitten, and to the bottom thrown. Soon were the glad tidings to the bold Burgundians known.

LVIII

The boat meanwhile, ere Hagan its master yet had slain, Had dropp'd into the current; this wrought him mickle pain, For ere he round could bring it, faint he to wax began, Yet strongly row'd and stoutly King Gunther's large-limb'd man.

LIX

The brawny stranger turn'd it with many a sturdy stroke, Till in his grasp o'ermaster'd the oar asunder broke. He long'd to reach his comrades at a near landing-place, But oar had ne'er another, so this he join'd apace.

LX

With a shield-thong together (poor cord, but workman good!) And then adown the river made for a neighboring wood. There his good lords the warrior found waiting on the strand; Many a bold knight ran toward him as he drew nigh the land.

LXI

Him well his comrades greeted beside the foamy flood, But when they saw the shallop reeking all with blood From that grim wound, that sudden the ferryman did to death, They put a thousand questions to Hagan in a breath.

LXII

When beheld King Gunther the hot blood, how it ran About the heaving ferry, thus he straight began. "Here's a boat, Sir Hagan, but where's the boatman left? Your sturdy strength, I fear me, the wretch's life hath reft."

LXIII

With lying tongue he answer'd, "The shallop I espied Fast by a desert meadow, myself the same untied. I have seen no boatman; this I can truly say; And harm to none has happen'd by fault of mine to-day."

LXIV

Thereto the bold Burgundian Sir Gernot made reply, "To-day deep care besets me; many a dear friend must die. With not a boatman ready to put our people o'er, 'Twere hard to cross the river; this I must needs deplore."

LXV

Loud then shouted Hagan, "Lay down upon the grass Our riding-gear, ye yeomen! I recollect I was On Rhine the best of ferrymen that e'er took oar in hand. Trust me, I'll put you over safe into Gelfrat's land."

XLVI

To make their passage quicker, the horses in a throng They drove into the river; these swam so well and strong, That by the forceful current the warriors lost not one; A few down lower landed with weary toil foredone.

LXVII

Long and broad and massy was that huge ferry-boat. Five hundred men and better it all at once could float With their food and weapons from sounding shore to shore. That day many a good warrior perforce strain'd at the oar.

LXVIII

Aboard then plac'd the heroes their gold and eke their weed. The goal of dark destruction they sought with fatal speed. Hagan was master-boatman; his luckless skill alone Full many a gallant champion brought to that land unknown.

LXIX

Noble knights a thousand first he ferried o'er, Thereto his own stout followers; behind still tarried more. Nine thousand lusty varlets he after brought away. The hand of him of Trony had little rest that day.

LXX

As the good knight thus deftly was putting o'er his freight, He thought on the strange warning he had receiv'd so late From those wise river-ladies with their prophetic breath; It brought King Gunther's chaplain within a hair of death.

LXXI

By his holy things close seated he found the priest at rest, With one hand gently leaning above a relique-chest; But in the grasp of Hagan that help'd him not the least. Sore wrong perforce he suffer'd, that heaven-forsaken priest.

LXXII

He caught and cast him over sooner than can be told. Many a voice loud shouted, "Hold, hold, Sir Hagan, hold!" Wroth at the deed was Giselher, Dame Uta's youngest son, But hold would not Sir Hagan till the mischief he had done.

LXXIII

Then the bold Burgundian the good Sir Gernot spake, "What can it boot you, Hagan, the chaplain's life to take? Had any other done it, he should have rued it straight. What can thus have mov'd you the holy man to hate?"

LXXIV

Stoutly swam the chaplain; to 'scape ne'er doubted he, Would any but assist him, but that was not to be; Stern Hagan, fierce and furious, as close he swam along, Dash'd him to the bottom, wrong heaping still on wrong.

LXXV

None there but thought it outrage, yet none came to his aid, Which when he saw, back turning for th' other bank he made; Though fail'd his strength o'erwearied, yet God's almighty hand Back bore him through the billows, and brought him safe to land.

LXXVI

There stood the poor clerk shivering, and shook his dripping weed. By this well knew Sir Hagan that their dark doom decreed, As those wild mermaids warn'd him, 'twas all in vain to shun. Thought he, "These hopeful champions must perish every one."

LXXVII

Soon as the bark was emptied, and all the goods it bore By the three brethren's vassals were safely brought to shore, Stern Hagan broke it piecemeal and down the current cast; The good knights star'd upon him, with wonder all aghast.

LXXVIII

"What are you doing, brother?" Dankwart sudden cried, "How shall we cross the river, when back we have to ride To the Rhine from Hungary our homes again to see?" Thereafter Hagan told him, that that was ne'er to be.

LXXIX

Then said the Knight of Trony, "I do it to this end, That, should a coward among us upon this journey wend, Who would perchance desert us through heart-appalling fear, A shameful death may meet him in the wild waters here."

LXXX

Then when the priest saw Hagan the bark in pieces break, Far o'er the boiling billows to the stern knight he spake. "What did I to you ever, base murderer," he began, "That you this day attempted to drown a guiltless man?"

LXXXI

Then answer gave Sir Hagan, "Now of this no more; I tell you on my honor, Sir Priest, it irks me sore That thus you have escap'd me; I neither jest nor feign." "For this God prais'd be ever!" said the poor chaplain.

LXXXII

"I fear you not, assure you, though brought to death so nigh. Now on with you to Hungary; over the Rhine will I. God grant you never thither come back, you knight untrue! So hence with my worst wishes, for what you could not do!"

LXXXIII

With those undaunted squadrons from Burgundy there came A bold quick-handed champion; Folker was his name. Whate'er he thought, out-spake he with ready wit and light. All that was done by Hagan, the minstrel held for right.

LXXXIV

Their steeds were ready saddled; their sumpters loaded too; Not yet, throughout the journey, had one had cause to rue, Save only the king's chaplain, the nearly drown'd divine; He plod must weary homeward, and foot it to the Rhine.

TWENTY-SIXTH ADVENTURE

HOW DANKWART SLEW GELFRAT

I

When now were all the warriors debark'd upon the strand, The king began to question, "Who now can through the land Direct us, lest we wander through wildering ways unknown?" Then answer'd valiant Folker, "That task be mine alone."

II

"Now guard you well," said Hagan, "yeoman as well as knight, And follow friendly counsel, for thus it seems me right; News know I, sad to utter, and sad alike to learn; Not one of us shall ever to Burgundy return.

III

"'Twas told me by two mermaids this morn without disguise, That back should we come never; now hear what I advise. Take to your arms, ye heroes, and wend your wary way (Since here we have stout foemen) in battailous array.

IV

"I thought to prove the mermaids, and catch them in a lie, Who said that we in Hungary were surely doom'd to die, And that alone the chaplain should come to Rhenish ground, So him in yonder river I gladly would have drown'd."

V

The woe-denouncing tidings flew quick from rank to rank; With ashen cheeks the warriors astonied sat and blank, As on their death they ponder'd by dismal doom decreed, From that disastrous journey; each shudder'd on his steed.

VI

'Twas near the town of Mœring that they the stream had cross'd; 'Twas there that Elsy's boatman his luckless life had lost. Then thus bespake them Hagan, "This morning by the flood I made me certain enemies, so look for wounds and blood.

VII

"I slew that self-same boatman at early dawn to-day; By this, all know the story; so buckle to the fray; If Gelfrat here and Elsy our onward journey cross, Let it be, Burgundians, to their disgrace and loss.

VIII

"I know them for so valiant that they will ne'er abstain, So let us pace our horses the slower o'er the plain, That nobody may fancy we rather flee than ride." "That counsel will I follow," young Giselher replied.

IX

"But who shall guide our party? This country's strange and lone." All shouted, "That shall Folker (for well to him are known The highways and the byways), the hardy minstrel good." They scarce had breath'd their wishes, when in his armor stood

X

The ever-ready gleeman; his helmet on he bound; He donn'd in haste his hauberk that brightly flash'd around, And to his spear-shaft fasten'd a pennon bloody red. Soon with the kings his masters to a dismal doom he sped.

XI

By this, to valiant Gelfrat his boatman's death was known; Swift-wing'd are evil tidings; the news as soon had flown To the redoubted Elsy; sore griev'd thereat were both. Straight summon'd they their vassals; all gather'd nothing loth;

XII

And I can well assure you, that scarce few hours were past, Ere, to find the wrong-doers, were pricking fiery fast A sturdy troop of warriors long prov'd in war before; In aid of noble Gelfrat seven hundred came or more.

XIII

All for revenge were thirsting, all eager for th' attack, Their warlike lords were foremost; too hotly in the track They follow'd of those strangers, and learnt it to their cost. Many a good friend soon after their valiant leaders lost.

XIV

Hagan the cautious Tronian their hasty counsels marr'd; How could a warrior better his friends and kinsmen guard? He took in charge the rearward, and there his men array'd With his brave brother Dankwart; all with one soul obey'd.

XV

The day had sunk and vanish'd; 'twas gloom and darkness all. He fear'd lest harm or danger his comrades should befall. Well marshall'd through Bavaria beneath their shields went they; Yet in short time their foemen assail'd them by the way.

XVI

On either side the highway, though nothing met their view, Hoofs heard they frequent trample, and close behind them too. Then out spoke fearless Dankwart, "Upon us is the foe; Bind fast your helmets, warriors; prudence would have it so."

XVII

Upon their march they halted, for now they were so nigh, That bucklers faintly glimmering they through the dark could spy, Nor longer wish'd Sir Hagan in silence to abide. "Who hunts us on the highway?" the deep-voiced warrior cried.

XVIII

The stern Bavarian Margrave Gelfrat gave answer back, "We're seeking out our foemen, and close are on their track. I know not who among you this morn my boatman slew; He was a knight of prowess; his loss I surely rue."

XIX

Then answer'd he of Trony, "Was that same ferryman thine? He would not put us over; the guilt, if guilt, is mine. I slew him, I confess it, but what besides could I? Myself first by his fury was all but done to die.

XX

"I offer'd gold and raiment for meed (what could I more?) Into thy land, Sir Gelfrat, if he'd but put us o'er. He flew into a fury, and caught me o'er the crown With a heavy boat-pole, and knock'd me roughly down.

XXI

"I snatch'd my sword in anger; from his wrath I kept my life; A mortal wound I gave him; this clos'd at once the strife. Yet such amends I offer as you think just and right." They hearken'd but to vengeance, burning with scorn and spite.

XXII