National Epics by Kate Milner Rabb
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Kate Milner Rabb >> National Epics
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Her grief was terrible to see. One moment the unhappy queen was accusing
herself for revealing her husband's secret; again she was vowing revenge
against Hagan, and at another time she reviled the traitorous Guenther.
When her father-in-law Siegmund returned home, she would not go with him,
but remained near the body of her husband, under the protection of her
brothers Gernot and Giselher and in the company of her mother.
Kriemhild, living in joyless state in her lonely palace, was at last
induced to speak to Guenther and pardon him. The pardon granted, Guenther
and Hagan at once plotted to have the Nibelungen hoard, Siegfried's
morning-gift to Kriemhild, brought to Worms. Never before was such a
treasure seen. Twelve huge wagons, journeying thrice a day, required four
nights and days to carry it from the mountain to the bay. It consisted of
nothing but precious stones and gold, and with it was the magic
wishing-rod. It filled Kriemhild's towers and chambers to overflowing, and
won many friends for the queen, who distributed it liberally.
When the envious Hagan could not induce Guenther to take the treasure from
Kriemhild, he selected a time when the king and his brothers were away
from home, and seizing the treasure, cast it into the Rhine, hoping to get
it again. In this he failed, so the great treasure was forever lost.
Thus ends the first part of the Lay of the Nibelungen. The second part is
sometimes called the Need or Fall of the Nibelungen.
While Kriemhild was bewailing her loss and revolving plans for revenge,
Etzel, King of the Huns, who had heard of the charms of Siegfried's widow,
sent the noble Margrave Ruedeger into Burgundy with proposals for her hand.
Guenther and his brothers begged Kriemhild to accept the offer; their
counsellors advised it; only the sage Hagan protested. He knew too well
how Kriemhild longed for revenge. "When once she gets among the Huns, she
will make us rue the day," said he.
But the others laughed at Hagan's scruples. The land of the Huns was far
away, and they need never set foot in it. Moreover, it was their duty to
make Kriemhild happy.
Moved by the eloquence of Ruedeger, Kriemhild consented to wed Etzel, and
set out in great state to meet the king.
She was splendidly entertained along the way, tarried a short time at the
home of the Margrave Ruedeger, and at Tulna met the great monarch Etzel,
riding to meet her, among his hosts of Russians, Polacks, Greeks, and
Wallachians.
The splendid wedding-feast was held at Vienna. Kriemhild was received with
the greatest honor, and so lavish was she of the gold and jewels she had
brought with her, and so gracious to the attendant Huns, that every one
loved her, and willingly worked her will.
For seven long years she and Attila lived happy together, and to them was
given a son whom they christened Ortlieb. Then Kriemhild, still
remembering her loss and the cruelties of her Burgundian relatives and
friends, bethought herself of her revenge.
Feigning a great desire to see her brothers, she entreated Etzel to invite
them to visit her; and the king, not suspecting her fell purpose, and glad
of an opportunity to welcome her friends, at once despatched messengers
with the invitation.
This time other counsellors besides Hagan mistrusted the queen, and
advised King Guenther and his brothers to decline the invitation. But the
princes grew angry at their advice; and Hagan, who could not endure to be
laughed at, set forth with them, accompanied with a great train of
warriors.
The Rhine was too swollen to ford, and Hagan was sent up the stream to
find a ferryman. As he looked for the boatman, he spied some mermaids
bathing, and seizing their garments, would not restore them until they
told him what would befall the Burgundians in Hungary.
"Safe will you ride to Etzel's court, and safe return," said one, as he
returned the garments. But as he turned to go, another called: "My aunt
has lied to thee that she might get back her raiment. Turn now, or you
will never live to see Burgundy. None save the chaplain will return in
safety."
Hagan went on gloomily and found the ferryman, who, proud and sullen,
refused to take the party across. Hagan slew him, and, returning with the
boat, threw the unfortunate chaplain into the river, thinking by drowning
him to prove the mermaid's prophecy untrue. But the chaplain escaped to
the other side, and walked back to Burgundy. Then Hagan told the party of
the prophecy and they resolved to go on together, though they realized
that they were going to their doom.
Because of the slaughter of the ferryman, they were attacked by Gelfrat,
the ruler of the land; but he was overcome and slain by Dankwart.
The Margrave Ruedeger received the travellers hospitably, and betrothed his
fair daughter to Giselher. He then accompanied the Burgundians to Etzel's
court.
The Burgundians suspected Kriemhild from the first. Giselher was the only
one of her brothers whom she kissed, and she and Hagan quarrelled over the
treasure at their first meeting.
They were warned by Eckewart, who had accompanied Kriemhild from Burgundy,
and by Dietrich of Bern, an exile at the court of Etzel, who told them
that every morning since her stay in Hunland she had moaned and wailed for
Siegfried. By Hagan's advice they all kept on their armor, telling Etzel
that it was the custom in their country to wear it for the first three
days.
Kriemhild's design was to destroy Hagan and spare her brothers. But Hagan,
on his guard, drove her warriors away from his room at night, and saved
himself at church from the jostling Hunnish lords, never, in the mean
time, sparing his insults to Kriemhild.
The Huns, who were devoted to their queen, were not slow in showing their
anger at Hagan's treatment of her, and the ill feeling between the
warriors increased as the days passed by.
As the Burgundians sat at the banquet with Etzel and his wife, in burst
Dankwart, exclaiming that he had been attacked by Bloedel, who had slain
all his followers.
"Be stirring, brother Hagan!" he cried. "Help me to avenge my wrongs!"
At this moment the little prince Ortlieb had been brought into the hall
and passed around among the guests.
"Let us drink to friendship with moody Kriemhild in king's wine!" cried
Hagan, and with one blow of the sword sent the child's head in his
mother's lap. Then arose a fearful clamor. Spear rang against shield, and
the cries of the fierce Huns mingled with the defiant shouts of the
Burgundians.
Dietrich of Bern, leaping upon a bench, asked King Guenther, that, as a
friend to both parties, he might be permitted to withdraw from the hall
with his friends. When the Burgundians assented, he led forth the king and
queen. The same privilege was accorded to Ruedeger.
Then, while the terrible Folker guarded the door with his fiddle bow, one
side of which was a trenchant sword, the battle began. The Burgundians
taunted the Huns with their weakness and cowardice until they ventured
into the hall and were cut down by Hagan and his desperate men. When
evening fell the thousand and four who had entered the hall all lay dead
by the hands of the Burgundians.
When Kriemhild's offer to give her brothers their lives if they would
surrender Hagan was refused, she ordered fire to be set to the four
corners of the hall, thinking thus to drive them forth. But the burning
rafters fell into the rivers of blood and were quenched, and the
Burgundians derived new courage and strength from huge draughts of blood
from their fallen foes.
Then Kriemhild and Etzel, seeing how their Hunnish men had fallen, and
perceiving that the Burgundians were in no wise injured by the fire,
reproached the Margrave Ruedeger that he did not enter the fight. In vain
he told them of his friendship with the princes; of the betrothal of his
daughter and Giselher. Kriemhild persisted in reminding him of the promise
he had made to serve her to her dying day. At last he reluctantly summoned
his men, and bidding farewell to his cruel king and queen, he entered the
hall. Gladly was he welcomed by the Burgundians, who could not believe
that he came to do battle with them. He explained how he was forced to
fight them, and amid the tears of both sides, he exchanged shields with
Hagan, whose buckler was broken. Then was the grim Hagan moved to tears,
and he vowed not to touch Ruedeger in the fight. Fearful was the clatter of
shield and blade as Ruedeger fought with Gernot, and fell at last by the
blade he had himself given the prince.
Great was the wailing of the Huns when they saw the lifeless body of
Ruedeger, and deeply did Etzel regret the loss of the valiant and true
margrave.
Dietrich of Bern, who sat afar off, sent some of his best warriors under
his man Hildebrand, to inquire of the truth of the report of Ruedeger's
death. These fiery men disobeyed the orders of their master, and fought
with the Burgundians until none remained save Guenther and Hagan on one
side, and Hildebrand on the other.
When Dietrich heard of the slaughter of his followers, he was overcome
with sorrow, and himself sought the hall. He promised Guenther and Hagan
that if they would surrender, he would himself lead them back in safety to
Burgundy; but to this they would not consent. By this time they were so
worn out, however, from the long battle, that Dietrich easily overpowered
them and led them captive before Kriemhild, who promised to show them fair
treatment.
But Kriemhild's mind had become so warped by her desire for revenge, that
she could not think of mercy. She cast her prisoners into separate
dungeons, and visiting Hagan first, demanded her treasure. "But give it to
me again, and thou shalt return living into Burgundy."
"Pray not to me, haughty queen," replied Hagan. "I swore that while my
lords were living I would ne'er tell where it lies. Thy prayer is thrown
away."
Straightway the savage Kriemhild ordered the head of Guenther to be struck
off, and bearing it by the hair, she displayed it to Hagan, asking him now
to tell her the secret.
"Now that all my lords are dead," said he, "no one shall know, thou least
of all, she-fiend!"
Kriemhild, beside herself with grief and rage, snatched from him the sword
Balmung that he had taken from Siegfried, and ever since carried, and
raising it high with both hands, struck off the head of her hated enemy.
At this the grief of Etzel broke forth, and the aged Hildebrand, enraged
to see a woman do such deeds, sprang upon Kriemhild and smote her to death
with his sword.
Bitterly wept King Etzel and Dietrich as they gazed on the corpses
scattered round, and the disfigured body of the fair queen. Nothing
remained for the Hunnish people but grief and woe.
Here on earth pain ever follows in the steps of pleasure.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NIBELUNGEN LIED.
HOW BRUNHILD WAS RECEIVED AT WORMS.
Brunhild, queen of Issland, was won by Guenther of Worms with the aid of
Siegfried, whom Guenther sent forward to Worms to announce the coming of
the royal pair. Queen Uta and Princess Kriemhild, with many followers from
the Burgundian court, went forward to the Rhine to meet and welcome the
royal bridal party.
Beyond the Rhine King Guenther, with many a well-arm'd rank
And all his guests about him, rode towards the river's bank;
You might see by the bridle led forward many a maid.
Those, who were to receive them, were ready all array'd.
Soon as the men of Issland came to the shallops down,
And eke the Nibelungers, lieges of Siegfried's crown,
To th' other shore they hasten'd (busy was every hand)
Where them the friends of Guenther awaited on the strand.
Now hear, by wealthy Uta what a device was wrought.
Down with her from the castle a virgin train she brought,
That rode where she was riding in that procession bright;
So many a maid acquainted became with many a knight.
Kriemhild by the bridle the Margrave Gary led,
But only from the castle; then forward Siegfried sped,
And did that gentle service; fair was the blushing maid;
Full well for that thereafter the warrior she repaid.
Ortwine, the fearless champion, rode by Dame Uta's rein;
Knights and maids together follow'd, a social train.
At such a stately meeting, all must confess, I ween,
So many lovely ladies were ne'er together seen.
Full many a famous champion careering you might spy
(Ill there was sloth and idlesse) beneath fair Kriemhild's eye
E'en to the place of landing; by knights of fair renown
There many a high-born lady from steed was lifted down.
The king was now come over, and many a worthy guest.
Ah, before the ladies what spears were laid in rest!
How many went in shivers at every hurtling close!
Buckler clashed with buckler; ah, what a din arose!
Now might you see the ladies fast by the haven stand.
With his guests King Guenther debark'd upon the strand,
In his hand soft leading the martial maiden fair.
Then each on each flash'd radiance, rich robes and jewels rare.
With that the smiling Kriemhild forth stepp'd a little space,
And Brunhild and her meiny greeted with gentle grace,
Each with snowy fingers back her headband drew,
And either kiss'd the other lovingly and true.
Then spoke in courteous manner Kriemhild the fair and free,
"In this our land, dear Brunhild, ever welcome be
To me and to my mother and all by us allow'd
For faithful friends and liegemen." Then each to th' other bow'd.
Next to greet Dame Brunhild approach'd Dame Uta too;
Oft she and oft her daughter their arms about her threw,
And on her sweet mouth lavish'd many a loving kiss.
Never was known a welcome so kind and frank as this.
Soon as Brunhild's women were all come to the strand,
Many a courtly warrior took by her lily hand
A lady fair, and gently her mincing steps upstay'd,
Now before Dame Brunhild stood many a noble maid.
'T was long before the greeting had gone through all the list.
On either part in plenty rosy mouths were kiss'd.
Still the two fair princesses were standing side by side,
A pair with love and rapture by longing warriors ey'd.
What erst had been but rumour, was now made clear to sight,
That nought had yet been witness'd so beautiful and bright
As those two lovely damsels; 't was plain to every eye;
None the slightest blemish in either form could spy.
Whoever look'd on women with but the sight for guide,
Such for her faultless beauty praised Guenther's, stately bride;
But those whose thoughts went deeper, and div'd into the mind,
Maintain'd that gentle Kriemhild left Brunhild far behind.
Now met the dames and damsels in friendly converse free;
Fair robes and fairer beauties were there in store to see;
Many a silk pavilion and many a gorgeous tent
The plain before the city fill'd in its whole extent.
King Guenther's kinsmen ceas'd not to press to that fair show.
And now was begg'd each princess from the sun to go
Close by, with their attendants, where shade was overhead.
By bold Burgundian warriors thither were they led.
Then clomb to horse the heroes, and scour'd the sounding field;
Many a joust was practis'd with order'd spear and shield;
Right well were prov'd the champions, and o'er the trampled plain,
As though the land were burning, the dust curl'd up amain.
So all before the ladies display'd their skill and force,
Nor doubt I that Sir Siegfried rode many a knightly course
Before the rich pavilions, and ever as he sped,
His thousand Nibelungers, a stately squadron, led.
Then came the knight of Trony by the good king's command;
In friendly wise he parted the jousters on the strand,
For fear the dust, now thick'ning, the ladies might molest.
Him with ready reverence obey'd each gentle guest.
Then spake the noble Gernot, "Let each now rest his steed
Till the air be cooler, 't will then be ours to lead
These lovely ladies homeward e'en to the palace wide.
So keep yourselves all ready till it please the king to ride."
Thus ended was the tourney, and now the warriors went
To join the dames and damsels beneath each lofty tent,
And there in gentle converse their grace and favor sought;
So flew the hours in pastime till of riding home they thought.
Now as drew on the twilight, when cooler grew the air
And the sun was setting, they would not linger there,
But up rose lords and ladies to seek the castle high;
Many a fair dame was cherish'd by many a love-lit eye.
So on the fair they waited as from good knights is due.
Then hardy squires, hot spurring before the nobles' view,
After the country's custom rode for the prize of weed
As far as to the palace, where sprung the king from steed.
There too the proud queens parted, each taking thence her way.
Dame Uta and her daughter with their handmaids gay
Into a spacious chamber both together went.
There might you see on all sides the sound of merriment.
In hall the seats were order'd; the king would instant hie
With all his guests to table; beside him you might spy
His lovely bride, Queen Brunhild; her royal crown she wore
There in King Guenther's country; so rich was none before.
Seats were there plac'd unnumber'd with tables broad and good,
As is to us reported, full heap'd with costly food.
How little there was wanted that passes for the best!
There with the king was seated full many a noble guest.
The chamberlains of Guenther in ewers of ruddy gold
Brought to the guests the water; should you be ever told
That at a prince's table service was better done,
'T were labor lost to say so, 't would be believ'd by none.
Then, ere the lord of Rhineland touch'd the water bright,
Up to him, as befitted, went Siegfried the good knight,
And brought to his remembrance the promise made him there,
Ere yet afar in Issland he look'd on Brunhild fair.
Said he, "You must remember what swore to me your hand,
That soon as Lady Brunhild were come into this land,
To me you 'd give your sister, your oaths now where are they?
On me throughout your journey much toil and travail lay."
"Well did you to remind me," the noble king replied,
"By what my hand has promis'd, I ever will abide,
And in this thing to serve you will do my best, my all."
Then sent he to beg Kriemhild to come into the hall.
Straight to the hall came Kriemhild begirt with many a maid,
When from the lofty staircase young Giselher thus said,
"Send back your maidens, Kriemhild, this bus'ness is your own;
On this the king, our brother, would speak with you alone."
Then forward led was Kriemhild, as Guenther gave command,
Where stood the king, and round him from many a prince's land
Were noble knights unnumber'd; at once all silence kept;
At that same instant Brunhild had just to table stepp'd.
Thence came it she knew nothing of what was to be done.
Then to his gather'd kinsmen spoke Dancrat's royal son,
"Help me to move my sister Siegfried for lord to take."
"Such match," they all made answer, "with honour she may make."
Then spoke the king to Kriemhild, "Sister, I ask of thee
From an oath to set me by thy kindness free.
Thee to a knight I promis'd; if thou become his bride,
Thou 'lt do the will of Guenther, and show thy love beside."
Then spake the noble maiden, "Dearest brother mine,
It needed not to ask me; whate'er command be thine,
I'll willingly perform it; so now, for thy sake,
Whom thou for husband giv'st me, fain I, my lord, will take."
With love and eke with pleasure redden'd Siegfried's hue;
At once to Lady Kriemhild he pledg'd his service true.
They bade them stand together in the courtly circle bright,
And ask'd her if for husband she took that lofty knight.
In modest maiden fashion she blush'd a little space,
But such was Siegfried's fortune and his earnest grace.
That not altogether could she deny her hand.
Then her for wife acknowledg'd the noble king of Netherland.
He thus to her affianc'd, and to him the maid,
Straight round the long-sought damsel in blushing grace array'd
His arms with soft emotion th' enamour'd warrior threw,
And kiss'd the high-born princess before that glitt'ring crew.
_Lettsom's Translation, Tenth Adventure._
HOW MARGRAVE RUEDEGER WAS SLAIN.
The Margrave Ruedeger did not take part in the battle fought in Etzel's
hall between the Burgundians visiting the Hunnish court and the Huns,
because of his friendship for the Burgundians, and the betrothal of his
daughter to Prince Giselher. Because of this, he was taunted by a Hun, who
said to the queen that although Ruedeger had accepted many favors from
Etzel he did not fight for him. When the Hun fell dead under Ruedeger's
blow, Etzel reproached him for slaying one of his followers when he had
need of so many.
Then came the fair Queen Kriemhild; she too had seen full well
What from the hero's anger the luckless Hun befell;
And she too mourn'd it deeply; with tears her eyes were wet.
Thus spake she to Ruedeger, "How have we ever yet
"Deserv'd that you, good Ruedeger, should make our anguish more?
Now sure to me and Etzel you've promised o'er and o'er,
That you both life and honour would risk to do us right.
That you 're the flower of knighthood is own'd by every knight.
"Now think upon the homage that once to me you swore,
When to the Rhine, good warrior, King Etzel's suit you bore,
That you would serve me ever to either's dying day.
Ne'er can I need so deeply, that you that vow should pay."
"'T is true, right noble lady; in this we 're not at strife;
I pledg'd, to do you service, my honour and my life,
But my soul to hazard never did I vow.
I brought the princes hither, and must not harm them now."
* * * * *
With that, to beg and pray him the king began as well;
King and queen together both at his feet they fell.
Then might you the good margrave have seen full ill bestead,
And thus in bitterest anguish the faithful hero said:--
"Woe's me the heaven-abandon'd, that I have liv'd to this!
Farewell to all my honours! woe for my first amiss!
My truth--my God-giv'n innocence--must they be both forgot?
Woe's me, O God in heaven! that death relieves me not!"
Then thus bespake him Kriemhild, "Right noble Ruedeger,
Take pity on our anguish; thou see'st us kneeling here,
The king and me before thee; both clasp thy honour'd knees.
Sure never host yet feasted such fatal guests as these."
With that the noble margrave thus to the queen 'gan say,
"Sure must the life of Ruedeger for all the kindness pay,
That you to me, my lady, and my lord the king have done.
For this I'm doomed to perish, and that ere set of sun.
"Full well I know, this morning my castles and my land
Both will to you fall vacant by stroke of foeman's hand,
And so my wife and daughter I to your grace commend,
And all at Bechelaren, each trusty homeless friend."
* * * * *
So to war the margrave under helmet strode;
Sharpest swords his meiny brandished as they rode;
Each in hand, bright-flashing, held his shield before.
That saw the dauntless minstrel, and seeing sorrow'd sore.
Then too was by young Giselher his lady's father seen
With helm laced as for battle. "What," thought he, "can he mean?
But nought can mean the margrave but what is just and right."
At the thought full joyous wax'd the youthful knight.
"I know not what you trust in;" thus the stern minstrel spake;
"Where saw you warriors ever for reconcilement's sake
With helmets laced advancing, and naked swords in hand?
On us will earn Sir Ruedeger his castles and his land."
Scarcely the valiant minstrel his words had utter'd all,
When the noble Ruedeger was close before the hall.
His shield, well proved in battle, before his feet he laid,
But neither proffered service, nor friendly greeting made.
To those within he shouted, "Look not for succor hence;
Ye valiant Nibelungers, now stand on your defence.
I'd fain have been your comrade; your foe I now must be.
We once were friends together; now from that bond I'm free."
"Now God forbid," said Guenther, "that such a knight as you
To the faith wherein we trusted, should ever prove untrue,
And turn upon his comrades in such an hour as this.
Ne'er can I think that Ruedeger can do so much amiss."
"I can't go back," said Ruedeger, "the deadly die is cast;
I must with you do battle; to that my word is pass'd.
So each of you defend him as he loves his life.
I must perform my promise; so wills King Etzel's wife."
* * * * * * *
"Tarry yet a little, right noble Ruedeger!
I and my lords a moment would yet with you confer;
Thereto hard need compels us, and danger gathering nigh;
What boot were it to Etzel though here forlorn we die?
"I'm now," pursued Sir Hagan, "beset with grievous care;
The shield that Lady Gotelind gave me late to bear,
Is hewn, and all-to broken by many a Hunnish brand.
I brought it fair and friendly hither to Etzel's land.
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