National Epics by Kate Milner Rabb

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Beowulf spoke, Ecgtheow's son:
"Recall now, oh, famous kinsman of Healfdene,
Prince very prudent, now to part I am ready,
Gold-friend of earl-men, what erst we agreed on,
Should I lay down my life in lending thee assistance,
When my earth-joys were over, thou wouldst evermore serve me
In stead of a father; my faithful thanemen,
My trusty retainers, protect thou and care for,
Fall I in battle: and, Hrothgar beloved,
Send unto Higelac the high-valued jewels
Thou to me hast allotted. The lord of the Geatmen
May perceive from the gold, the Hrethling may see it
When he looks on the jewels, that a gem-giver found I
Good over-measure, enjoyed him while able.
And the ancient heirloom Unferth permit thou,
The famed one to have, the heavy-sword splendid,
The hard-edged weapon; with Hrunting to aid me,
I shall gain me glory, or grim death shall take me."
The atheling of Geatmen uttered these words and
Heroic did hasten, not any rejoinder
Was willing to wait for; the wave-current swallowed
The doughty-in-battle. Then a day's-length elapsed ere
He was able to see the sea at its bottom.
Early she found then who fifty of winters
The course of the currents kept in her fury,
Grisly and greedy, that the grim one's dominion
Some one of men from above was exploring.
Forth did she grab them, grappled the warrior
With horrible clutches; yet no sooner she injured
His body unscathed: the burnie out-guarded,
That she proved but powerless to pierce through the armor,
The limb-mail locked, with loath-grabbing fingers.
The sea-wolf bare then, when bottomward came she,
The ring-prince homeward, that he after was powerless.
(He had daring to do it) to deal with his weapons,
But many a mere-beast tormented him swimming,
Flood-beasts no few with fierce-biting tusks did
Break through his burnie, the brave one pursued they.
The earl then discovered he was down in some cavern
Where no water whatever anywise harmed him,
And the clutch of the current could not come anear him,
Since the roofed-hall prevented; brightness a-gleaming
Fire-light he saw, flashing, resplendent.
The good one saw then the sea-bottom's monster,
The mighty mere-woman; he made a great onset
With weapon-of-battle, his hand not desisted
From striking, that war-blade struck on her head then
A battle-song greedy. The stranger perceived then
The sword would not bite, her life would not injure,
But the falchion failed the folk prince when straitened:
Erst had it often onsets encountered,
Oft cloven the helmet, the fated one's armor:
'T was the first time that ever the excellent jewel
Had failed of its fame. Firm-mooded after,
Not heedless of valor, but mindful of glory,
Was Higelac's kinsman; the hero-chief angry
Cast then his carved-sword covered with jewels
That it lay on earth, hard and steel-pointed;
He hoped in his strength, his hand-grapple sturdy.
So any must act whenever he thinketh
To gain him in battle glory unending,
And is reckless of living. The lord of the War-Geats
(He shrank not from battle) seized by the shoulder
The mother of Grendel; then mighty in struggle
Swung he his enemy, since his anger was kindled,
That she fell to the floor. With furious grapple
She gave him requital early thereafter,
And stretched out to grab him; the strongest of warriors
Faint-mooded stumbled, till he fell in his traces,
Foot-going champion. Then she sat on the hall-guest
And wielded her war-knife wide-bladed, flashing,
For her son would take vengeance, her one only bairn.
His breast-armor woven bode on his shoulder;
It guarded his life, the entrance defended
'Gainst sword-point and edges. Ecgtheow's son there
Had fatally journeyed, champion of Geatmen,
In the arms of the ocean, had the armor not given,
Close-woven corselet, comfort and succor,
And had God most holy not awarded the victory,
All-knowing Lord; easily did heaven's
Ruler most righteous arrange it with justice;
Uprose he erect ready for battle.

Then he saw 'mid the war-gems a weapon of victory,
An ancient giant-sword, of edges a-doughty,
Glory of warriors: of weapons 't was choicest,
Only 't was larger than any man else was
Able to bear in the battle-encounter,
The good and splendid work of the giants.
He grasped then the sword-hilt, knight of the Scyldings,
Bold and battle-grim, brandished his ring-sword,
Hopeless of living, hotly he smote her,
That the fiend-woman's neck firmly it grappled,
Broke through her bone-joints, the bill fully pierced her
Fate-cursed body, she fell to the ground then:
The hand-sword was bloody, the hero exulted.
The brand was brilliant, brightly it glimmered,
Just as from heaven gemlike shineth
The torch of the firmament. He glanced 'long the building,
And turned by the wall then, Higelac's vassal
Raging and wrathful raised his battle-sword
Strong by the handle. The edge was not useless
To the hero-in-battle, but he speedily wished to
Give Grendel requital for the many assaults he
Had worked on the West-Danes not once, but often,
When he slew in slumber the subjects of Hrothgar,
Swallowed down fifteen sleeping retainers
Of the folk of the Danemen, and fully as many
Carried away, a horrible prey.
He gave him requital, grim-raging champion,
When he saw on his rest-place weary of conflict
Grendel lying, of life-joys bereaved,
As the battle at Heorot erstwhile had scathed him;
His body far bounded, a blow when he suffered,
Death having seized him, sword-smiting heavy,
And he cut off his head then. Early this noticed
The clever carles who as comrades of Hrothgar
Gazed on the sea-deeps, that the surging wave-currents
Were mightily mingled, the mere-flood was gory:
Of the good one the gray-haired together held converse,
The hoary of head, that they hoped not to see again
The atheling ever, that exulting in victory
He'd return there to visit the distinguished folk-ruler:
Then many concluded the mere-wolf had killed him.
The ninth hour came then. From the ness-edge departed
The bold-mooded Scyldings; the gold-friend of heroes
Homeward betook him. The strangers sat down then
Soul-sick, sorrowful, the sea-waves regarding:
They wished and yet weened not their well-loved friend-lord
To see any more. The sword-blade began then,
The blood having touched it, contracting and shrivelling
With battle-icicles; 't was a wonderful marvel
That it melted entirely, likest to ice when
The Father unbindeth the bond of the frost and
Unwindeth the wave-bands, He who wieldeth dominion
Of time and of tides: a truth-firm Creator.
Nor took he of jewels more in the dwelling,
Lord of the Weders, though they lay all around him,
Than the head and the handle handsome with jewels;
The brand early melted, burnt was the weapon:
So hot was the blood, the strange-spirit poisonous
That in it did perish. He early swam off then
Who had bided in combat the carnage of haters,
Went up through the ocean; the eddies were cleansed,
The spacious expanses, when the spirit from farland
His life put aside and this short-lived existence.
The seamen's defender came swimming to land then
Doughty of spirit, rejoiced in his sea-gift,
The bulky burden which he bore in his keeping.
The excellent vassals advanced then to meet him,
To God they were grateful, were glad in their chieftain,
That to see him safe and sound was granted them.
From the high-minded hero, then, helmet and burnie
Were speedily loosened: the ocean was putrid,
The water 'neath welkin weltered with gore.
Forth did they fare, then, their footsteps retracing,
Merry and mirthful, measured the earth-way,
To highway familiar: men very daring
Bare then the head from the sea-cliff, burdening
Each of the earlmen, excellent-valiant.
Four of them had to carry with labor
The head of Grendel to the high towering gold-hall
Upstuck on the spear, till fourteen most-valiant
And battle-brave Geatmen came there going
Straight to the palace: the prince of the people
Measured the mead-ways, their mood-brave companion,
The atheling of earlmen entered the building,
Deed-valiant man, adorned with distinction,
Doughty shield-warrior, to address King Hrothgar:
Then hung by the hair, the head of Grendel
Was borne to the building, where beer-thanes were drinking,
Loth before earlmen and eke 'fore the lady:
The warriors beheld then a wonderful sight.
_J. L. Hall's Translation, Parts XXI.-XXIV._

THE NIBELUNGEN LIED.

The Nibelungen Lied, or Song of the Nibelungen, was written about the
beginning of the thirteenth century, though the events it chronicles
belong to the sixth or seventh century. The manuscript poem was discovered
about the middle of the eighteenth century.

Lachmann asserts that the Nibelungen Lied consists of twenty songs of
various dates and authorship; other scholars, while agreeing that it is
the work of a single author, ascribe it variously to Conrad von
Kurenburger, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Heinrich von Ofterdingen, and Walther
von der Vogelweide.

Whoever was its author, he was only a compiler of legends that were the
property of the people for centuries, and are found in many other of the
popular German epics of the Middle Ages.

The poem consists of thirty-nine adventures, containing two thousand four
hundred and fifty-nine stanzas of four lines each. The action covers
thirty years. It is based on material obtained from four sources: (1) The
Frankish saga-cycle, whose hero is Siegfried; (2) the saga-cycle of
Burgundy, whose heroes are Guenther, king of Worms, and his two brothers;
(3) the Ostrogothic saga-cycle, whose hero is Dietrich of Bern; and (4)
the saga-cycle of Etzel, king of the Huns, with his allies and vassals.

Dietrich of Bern is supposed to be Theodoric of Italy, in exile at the
Hunnish court. Etzel is Attila the Hun, and Guenther, Gunducarius, king of
the Burgundians, who was destroyed by the Huns with his followers in the
year 436.

The Nibelungen Lied very much resembles the Iliad, not only in the
uncertainty of its origin and the impersonality of its author, but also in
its objectivity, its realism, the primitive passions of its heroes, and
the wondrous acts of valor performed by them. It contains many passages of
wonderful beauty, and gives a striking picture of the social customs and
the religious belief of the time.

BIBLIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM, THE NIBELUNGEN LIED.

Mary Elizabeth Burt's Story of the German Iliad, 1892;

Thomas Carlyle's Nibelungen Lied (see his Miscellaneous Essays, 1869, vol.
iii., pp. 111-162);

Sir G. W. Cox and E. H. Jones's Nibelungen Lied (see their Tales of the
Teutonic Lands, 1872, pp. 79-132);

G. T. Dippold's Nibelungenlied (see his Great Epics of Mediaeval Germany,
1882, pp. 1-117);

William T. Dobson's Nibelungenlied Epitomized (see his Classic Poets,
1878);

Auber Forestier's Echoes from Mistland, or the Nibelungen Lay Revealed,
Tr. by A. A. Woodward, 1877;

Joseph Gostwick's and Robert Harrison's Nibelungenlied (see their Outlines
of German Literature, n. d., pp. 16-24);

Hugh Reginald Haweis's Nibelungenlied (see his Musical Memories, 1887, pp.
225-250);

Frederick Henry Hedge's Nibelungenlied (see his Hours with the German
Classics, 1887, pp. 25-55);

James K. Hosmer's Nibelungen Lied (see his Short History of German
Literature, 1891, pp. 23-77);

J. P. Jackson's Ring of the Nibelung, Cosmopolitan, 1888, vol. vi. pp.
415-433;

Henry W. Longfellow's Nibelungenlied (see his Poets and Poetry of Europe,
new ed., enlarged, 1882, pp. 217-227);

J. M. F. Ludlow's Lay and Lament of the Niblungs (see his Popular Epics of
the Middle Ages, 1865, pp. 105-183);

E. Magnusson and William Morris's Voelsungs Saga, story of the Voelsungs and
Niblungs, 1870;

William Morris's Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs,
1887;

F. Max Mueller's Das Nibelungenlied (see his German Classics, new ed.,
1893, vol. i., pp. 112-136);

Ernst Raupach's Nibelungen Treasure, a tragedy from the German with
remarks, 1847;

A. M. Richey's Teutonic and the Celtic Epic, Fraser's Magazine, 1874, vol.
lxxxix., pp. 336-354;

Wilhelm Scherer's Nibelungenlied (see his History of German Literature,
1893, vol. i., pp. 101-115);

Leda M. Schoonamaker's Nibelungen Lied, Harper's Magazine, 1877, vol. lv.,
pp. 38-51;

Bayard Taylor's Nibelungen Lied (see his Studies in German Literature,
1893, pp. 101-134);

Wilhelm Wagner's Nibelungenlied (see his Epics and Romances of the Middle
Ages, 1883, pp. 229-306);

Henry Weber's The Song of the Nibelungen (see Weber and Jamieson,
Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, 1874, pp. 167-213).

STANDARD ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS, THE NIBELUNGEN.

The Nibelungen Lied, Tr. by Alfred G. Foster Barham, 1887;

The Lay of the Nibelungers, Tr. into English text after Lachman's text by
Jonathan Birch, ed. 3, 1887;

The Nibelungenlied, Tr. by Joseph Gostwick (see his Spirit of German
Poetry, 1843);

The Fall of the Nibelungers, Tr. by William Nanson Lettsom, ed. 2, 1874.

THE STORY OF THE NIBELUNGEN LIED.

In the beautiful city of Worms, in Burgundy, dwelt the maiden Kriemhild,
surpassing all others in beauty. Her father, long since dead, was Dancrat;
her mother, Uta, and her three brothers,--Guenther, Gernot, and
Giselher,--puissant princes whose pride it was to guard their lovely
sister. Among the noble lords their liegemen were Hagan of Trony,
Dankwart, his brother, Ortwine of Metz, Eckewart, Gary, Folker, Rumolt the
steward, Sindolt the butler, and Humolt the chamberlain.

The peace of the beautiful Kriemhild was one night disturbed by a dream,
in which she saw a young falcon that she had long reared with tender care
torn to pieces by two fierce eagles. When she confided this dream to her
mother, the wise Uta declared that it meant that she would one day wed a
fair prince threatened with a dreadful doom.

"Then I will never wed!" cried Kriemhild. "Better to forego the bliss thou
tellest me attends only the wedded state than to taste the anguish
foretold by my dream." Alas! little could she guess of what the future
held in store for her.

In the wide country of the Netherlands, in the city of Xanten, dwelt the
great prince Siegmund and his wife Sieglind. Their kingdom was wide, their
wealth great, but nothing gave them so much happiness as the renown of
their glorious son Siegfried. Such mighty deeds of valor had he performed
that his fame was already world-wide, though he was but a youth. To Xanten
the fame of the peerless princess Kriemhild had penetrated, and the young
prince declared to his parents his intention of seeking her out in
Burgundy, and wooing her for his wife. All entreaties were in vain; with
but twelve companions, each fitted out with the most gorgeous vestments,
by the care of the queen mother, the haughty prince advanced into
Burgundy.

King Guenther, surprised at the sight of the splendidly attired strangers,
called one after another of his knights to inform him who they were. None
knew, until Hagan was at last called because he was familiar with the
warriors of every land. He did not know them. "But," said he, "though I
have never set eyes on him, I'll wager that is the noble Siegfried, the
mighty warrior who slew the Nibelungers. Once, so I have heard the story,
when he was riding alone, he saw the two kings Nibelung and Shilbung
dividing the treasure of the Niblungs. They had just brought it out from
the cavern where it was guarded by the dwarf Albric, and they called
Siegfried to come and divide it for them. The task was so great that he
did not finish it, and when the angry kings set upon him he slew them
both, their giant champions and chiefs, and then overcame the dwarf
Albric, and possessed himself of his wondrous cloud-cloak. So he is now
lord of the Nibelungers and owner of the mighty treasure. Not only this,
my king; he once slew a poison-spitting dragon and bathed in its blood, so
that his skin is invulnerable. Treat the young prince with respect. It
would be ill-advised to arouse his hatred."

While the king and his counsellors were admiring his haughty bearing,
Siegfried and his followers advanced to the hall and were fittingly
welcomed. Siegfried haughtily declared that he had come to learn if
Guenther's renown for knighthood was correct, and wished to fight with him,
with their respective kingdoms as stakes. Guenther had no desire to fight
with such a doughty warrior, and he hastened to soothe Siegfried's wrath
with gentle words, inviting him to remain as his guest.

So happy was Siegfried in the tourneys and games enjoyed by Guenther's
court, that he remained in Worms for a year, and in all that time never
set eyes on Kriemhild. How enraptured would he have been had he known that
the gentle maiden watched for him daily at her lattice, and came to long
for a glimpse of the handsome stranger!

At the end of the year tidings were brought to Worms that the Saxons, led
by King Luedeger, and Luedegast, king of Denmark, were marching against
Burgundy. The Burgundians were terrified at the news; but Siegfried,
delighted at the thought of war, begged Guenther to give him but a thousand
Burgundians, in addition to the twelve comrades he had brought with him,
and he would pledge himself to defeat, unaided, the presumptuous enemy.
Many were the camps of the foe; full forty thousand were there mustered
out to fight, but Siegfried quickly scattered them, slew many thousands,
and took the two kings prisoners.

How joyful the melancholy Kriemhild became when the messenger bore to her
the glad tidings! Ruddy gold and costly garments he gained for his good
news.

On Siegfried's return he first met and loved Kriemhild. More blooming than
May, sweeter than summer's pride, she stood by the gallant warrior, who
dared not yet to woo her. The twelve days of revel in celebration of the
victory were one long dream of bliss to the happy lovers.

While Siegfried was still lingering at Guenther's court, tidings were
brought thither of the beauty, prowess, and great strength of Brunhild,
Queen of Issland, and Guenther determined to go thither and woo her.
Siegfried implored him not to go.

"Thou knowest not what thou must undertake," he said. "Thou must take part
in her contests, throw the javelin, throw the stone and jump after it, and
if thou fail in even one of these three games thou must lose thy life and
that of thy companions."

When Siegfried found that he could not move Guenther, he promised to go
with him and assist him, on condition that on their return Guenther would
give him the beautiful Kriemhild for his wife.

Attired in the most splendid raiment, prepared by the willing fingers of
Kriemhild and her maids, Guenther, with only three companions, Siegfried,
Hagan, and Dankwart, set forth to Issland. Siegfried requested his
companions to inform Brunhild that he was Guenther's man; and when she
welcomed him first, he himself told her to speak first to his master.
The little party was greatly impressed with the splendor of Brunhild's
three turreted palaces, and with the beauty and prodigious strength of the
queen. When they saw her huge golden shield, steel-studded, beneath whose
weight four chamberlains staggered, and the immense javelin of the
war-like maid, the warriors trembled for their lives, all save Siegfried,
who, wrapped in his cloud-cloak, invisible to all, stood behind the
bewildered Guenther.

"Give me thy buckler," he whispered. "Now make but the motions, and I will
hurl both spear and stone. But keep this a secret if thou wouldst save
both our lives."

To the surprise of every one Guenther won the games, and Brunhild,
surprised and mortified, ordered her followers to bow to her better, and
returned to the castle to make ready for the journey to Worms.

Siegfried carried the tidings to Worms, and the bridal party was met and
welcomed at the banks of the Rhine by the Queen Uta, Kriemhild, and a
large following. During the wedding feast, Siegfried reminded Guenther of
his promise, and the king, calling Kriemhild to him, affianced the two in
the presence of the company.

When the suspicious Brunhild saw Siegfried sitting at the table of the
king, she was angered, for she had been told that he was a vassal.
Although she could get no satisfaction from Guenther, she suspected some
secret. When she and Guenther retired for the night she conquered him, tied
him hand and foot with her magic girdle, and hung him on the wall until
morning. Guenther, overcome with wrath and vexation, told his humiliation
to Siegfried the next morning at the minster. "Be comforted," said
Siegfried. "Tonight I will steal into thy chamber wrapped in my
mist-cloak, and when the lights are extinguished I will wrestle with her
until I deprive her of the magic ring and girdle."

After some hesitation, Guenther assented, and Brunhild, supposing she was
conquered by Guenther, yielded herself willingly to her husband and lost
all her former strength. Siegfried carried away her girdle and ring and
gave them to his wife, little suspecting what harm they would do him in
the years to come.

The wedding festivities over, Siegfried took his bride home to the
Netherlands, where their arrival was celebrated with the greatest
festivities. Siegmund placed the crown on his son's head, and Siegfried
and Kriemhild ruled happily over the kingdom for ten years, during which
time a son was born to them, christened Guenther for his uncle.

During these years Brunhild had been fretting that the supposed vassal,
Siegfried, had never come to pay homage to his king. At last, affecting a
great longing to see Kriemhild once more, she induced Guenther to invite
his sister and her husband to visit them. This he did gladly, and on their
arrival many days were spent in feasting, merrymaking, and the tourney.

But one day, when the two queens were watching the tilting in the castle
court, Kriemhild, excited by the victories of her husband, declared that
Siegfried, because of his might, ought to be ruler of Burgundy. This
angered Brunhild, who reproached the wife of a vassal for such
presumption.

"My husband a vassal!" exclaimed the indignant Kriemhild. "He, ruler of
the Netherlands, who holds a higher place than my brother Guenther! I
cannot endure thy insolence longer."

"I will see," said Brunhild, "this very day whether thou receivest the
public respect and honor paid to me."

"I am ready for the test," responded Kriemhild, "and I will show thee
to-day, before our following, that I dare to enter the church before
Guenther's queen."

When the two queens met on the minster steps, and Brunhild declared that
no vassaless should enter before her, Kriemhild reproached her for being
the leman of Siegfried, and displayed in proof the ring and girdle he had
taken from Brunhild. Rage and fury rendered Brunhild speechless. The kings
were summoned, and both denied the truth of Kriemhild's words. But the two
queens were now bitter enemies, and the followers of Brunhild, among them
the gloomy Hagan of Trony, were deeply angered at Siegfried and his queen.
Hagan laid a plot to destroy Siegfried, and Guenther, though at first
unwilling, was at last induced to enter it.

Pretended messengers came to announce to Guenther that the Saxons again
threatened war against him. Siegfried proposed to take part in the war,
and preparations were at once begun. Hagan, with pretended tenderness,
told Kriemhild of the coming danger, and asked her if her lord had a weak
place, that he might know and guard it for him. Kriemhild confided to him
her husband's secret. When Siegfried was bathing in the dragon's blood, a
leaf fell between his shoulders, and that spot was vulnerable. There she
would embroider a cross on his vesture that Hagan might protect him in the
shock of battle.

The war was now abandoned and a great hunt undertaken. Gernot and
Giselher, though they did not see fit to warn Siegfried, refused to take
part in the plot and go to the hunt. Many a lion, elk, and boar fell by
Siegfried's hand that day before the hunters were called together to the
royal breakfast; when they at last sat down in the flowery meadow the wine
was wanting, and the warriors were compelled to quench their thirst at a
brooklet near by.

"A race!" cried the hero; and he, Hagan, and Guenther ran for the brook,
Siegfried gaining it first. After the king had quenched his thirst,
Siegfried threw down his arms and stooped to drink. Then Hagan, picking up
his ashen spear, threw it at the embroidered cross, and Siegfried fell in
the agonies of death, reproaching his traitorous friends whom he had
served so faithfully.

To add cruelty to cruelty, the vindictive Hagan placed the body of
Siegfried outside Kriemhild's chamber door, where she would stumble over
it as she went out to early mass next morning. Down she fell fainting when
she recognized her husband, and reviving, shrieked in her anguish,
"Brunhild planned it; Hagan struck the blow!"

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