The Project Gutenberg EBook of Gudrun, by Mary Pickering Nichols This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Gudrun A Mediaeval Epic Author: Mary Pickering Nichols Release Date: June 27, 2014 [EBook #46109] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GUDRUN *** Produced by sp1nd, Stephen Hutcheson, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) Gudrun: A Mediaeval Epic translated from the Middle High German Fac-simile of the Ambrasian manuscript of Gudrun, reproduced from Koenig’s Deutsche Literatur Geschichte. [iii] Gudrun, illuminated title page GUDRUN A Mediaeval Epic TRANSLATED FROM THE Middle High German by MARY PICKERING NICHOLS BOSTON AND NEW YORK Houghton, Mifflin and Company The Riverside Press, Cambridge M DCCC LXXXIX Copyright, 1889, By MARY PICKERING NICHOLS. All rights reserved. The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. Preface. [iv] [v] [vi] [vii] [ix] The epic poem of Gu-drun is one of the most important early literary works of the German race. It is attributed to the latter part of the twelfth or the beginning of the thirteenth century, and to a date a little subsequent to that of the Nibelungen Lied. It was first brought to the notice of the modern world in the year 1817, the only original manuscript now known to exist having been discovered about that time in the castle Ambras in the Tyrol, among other manuscripts which had been collected by the Emperor Maximilian I. (1493-1519). The manuscript is now in the Imperial Library at Vienna. It has been several times edited and printed in the original Middle High German, with critical annotations; various translations into modern German have also been published: but so far as I can learn, no complete metrical version in the English language has been made public. The name of the author is unknown; it is generally thought to have been constructed, in great measure, from earlier legends which had been repeated by wandering singers. According to the late Karl Bartsch, the distinguished critic and editor of Mediæval German literature, the tale shows affinity to legends of the Scalds of Norway and Denmark, and to those of the Shetland Isles. Traces of resemblance are said to be found among the relics of Anglo-Saxon literature. The supposition that the poem was constructed from various early legends explains some of the marvellous incidents of the tale, and those chronological inconsistencies where the rude habits and ideas of earlier times are combined with the later knightly usages of the Middle Ages and with Christian belief. The scene of the poem is laid principally on the shores of the North Sea, and includes Ireland and Normandy, as well as Holland, Denmark, and Friesland. Very vague ideas of geography were, however, entertained by the poet. Some names of places are thought to be fabulous, and critics disagree with regard to the modern countries designated by other names used. The poem is founded upon the themes of love and war, and properly consists of three parts. The first portion, embracing four tales, relates the adventures of Hagen, the grandfather of Gu-drun; the second part gives the story of the wooing and abduction of Hilda, his daughter, the mother of Gu-drun. The proper story of Gu-drun begins only with the ninth tale. The narrative gives a vivid picture of the ideas, manners, and customs of the age of the author; of the dwellings, dress, and ornaments in use; of the weapons and warfare; of the ships and sea-life; and of the tournaments and court festivities. From it we see the nature of the intellectual amusement enjoyed by the northern nations, at that period of their mental development when literary entertainment in the modern sense was yet unknown, and its place was supplied by listening to the recitals of wandering bards. Modern German critics agree in assigning a high literary value to the poem of Gu-drun, and compare it not unfavorably with the Nibelungen Lied. Bartsch, the critic above named, says: “The general impression which the poem gives is one of greater beauty, though not always of equal grandeur with that of the Nibelungen; it is a worthy companion-piece. The two are justly compared, as are the Iliad and the Odyssey. In the Nibelungen as in the Iliad the fate of a whole people is decided by the sword, and the ruling house, consisting of noble heroes, meets destruction before our eyes; but the conquerors do not fully rejoice in their success. The whole breathes a tragic spirit, even more than the Greek epic. ‘Nach Freude Leid’—‘after joy comes sorrow’—is the earnest tone throughout. Gu-drun, like the Odyssey, closes more tenderly and in a spirit of reconciliation. Although pitiless fate has destroyed the happiness of those for whom the poet has awakened our sympathy, and we see a noble being suffer in the most shameful manner, yet we are sustained by hope, and a happy end compensates for woes endured. ‘Aus Leid Freude’—‘sorrows end in joy’—is the final conclusion.... All the characters are worked out in the most minute and careful manner, and are developed consistently.... The best traits of the German nature, fearless bravery, unfaltering fidelity, and unswerving integrity, are presented. The nobility of a feminine soul which, inspired by pure love, in the distress of a hard captivity, preserves its fidelity to its beloved, perhaps in no poem of the German middle ages is so strikingly shown as in the character of Gu-drun.... The descriptions both of battle and scenery are masterly, and are painted with a few decisive strokes.” The metrical form of Gu-drun is similar to that of the Nibelungen. In both, the accentuation is determined by the logical sense, as in prose, and not always by the number of syllables, as in most modern verse. In both, the lines are metrically divided, giving three accents to each half-line of the stanza, except in the fourth line, in which Gu-drun differs from the Nibelungen in having five accents instead of four on the concluding half-line. The translator has adhered to the original rhythm, and has endeavored in each stanza to convey strictly the ideas of the author, being careful not to introduce anything, in thought or simile, foreign to the poem, and, as far as the verse would permit, to give a verbal rendering. The translation has been made from Bartsch’s edition of the original Middle High German (Brockhaus, Leipzig, 1874). He, like the other editors, has supplied some omissions in the manuscript, an instance of which may be seen in the sixth line of the fac-simile given. The drawings introduced are copied from mediæval German printed books. I wish to acknowledge my obligation to my brother for careful revision and for many important improvements throughout the translation. M. P. N. Boston, 1889. Contents. Tale I. Sigeband, king of Ireland, after the death of his father, marries a princess of Norway, who bears him a son, Hagen. During the celebration of a court festival, Hagen, now seven years old, while outside the castle in the care of his attendants, is caught up by a griffin, and borne to his nest in a distant land. Stanzas 1-66. Tale II. Hagen, falling from the grasp of one of the young griffins, crawls into a cave, where he finds three young daughters of kings, who had also been carried off by the griffins. He grows up in their company. At last, one day, he wanders with them to the seashore, where he finds a ship whose master, a lord from Karadie, he persuades to rescue them from their exile. 67-113. Tale III. The master of the ship inquires of Hagen and the maidens concerning their country, and learns that Hagen is the son of an old enemy. He threatens to keep him as a hostage, but Hagen seizes thirty of the sailors, and flings them into the sea, and compels the others to steer towards his home. There, he sends messengers to announce his arrival to his father and mother, who come down to the shore to meet him. 114-150. Tale IV. Hagen reconciles his father to the men who had brought him home, and receives from his father the government of the kingdom. He marries one of the three maidens, Hilda, from India. She gives birth to a daughter, likewise named Hilda. When she is grown up, her many suitors are rejected by her father. 151-203. Tale V. Hettel, king of the Hegelings, a suitor for Hilda, summons his vassals, Wâ-te, Horant, and Fru-te, and sends them to obtain her for his wife. They go, purporting to be merchants, carrying seven hundred warriors concealed in the hold of the ship. They send rich gifts to Hagen, and at the request of his daughter, Hilda, they are kindly received at court. 204-371. Tale VI. Horant delights the court with his singing, and he with his friend Morunc are introduced to the bower of Hilda. He tells her of Hettel’s suit, which she, charmed by the singing of Horant, receives with favor. They invite her to visit their ship, with her father and mother, and the invitation is accepted. 372-439. Tale VII. Hilda, with her father and mother and her maidens, rides down to the shore; she and the maidens go on board the ship. While Hagen’s attention is occupied, the vessel sets sail, and they arrive in Hettel’s land. 440-486. Tale VIII. Hagen and his warriors follow in their ships, in order to rescue Hilda, and reach the Hegeling land: a battle takes place on the seashore. At Hilda’s entreaty, peace is made, and Hagen consents to her marriage with Hettel. Hagen returns home, leaving Hilda and her maidens in Hettel’s kingdom. 487-562. Tale IX. Wâ-te, Horant, and the other vassals of Hettel go back to their homes. Hilda bears to Hettel a son, Ortwin, and a daughter, Gu-drun, who is afterwards sought by Siegfried, king of Moorland. He is rejected by her father, Hettel, and retires in anger. 563-586. Tale X. Hartmut, a Norman prince, son of Ludwig and Gerlind, hears of the beauty of Gu-drun, and resolves to woo her. Messengers are dispatched with letters, but receive a forbidding answer. 587-616. Tale XI. Herwic, king of Sealand, sends suitors for the hand of Gu-drun, who are also rejected. Hartmut of Normandy comes to woo her in person, and is kindly received by her; she, however, begs him, if he values his life, to leave the court. He returns to Normandy, resolved to win her by force. 617-629. Tale XII. Herwic, being forbidden by Hettel to woo his daughter, invades his kingdom, and, after a battle, Gu-drun, with Hettel’s consent, is betrothed to him. 630-667. Tale XIII. Siegfried, a rival suitor for Gu-drun, invades the land of Herwic, who sends to Hettel for his assistance: Hettel with many of his vassals comes to his help. Siegfried is driven into a castle, and there besieged. 668-724. Tale XIV. Hettel sends to announce to Hilda, his wife, and to Gu-drun, his daughter, his success in the fight with Siegfried. Hartmut, the Norman, takes advantage of the absence of both Hettel and Herwic, and invades the Hegeling kingdom. 725-752. Tale XV. Hartmut sends messengers again to Gu-drun to ask her hand, and threatens to take her by force if she still rejects his suit. She answers that she is betrothed to Herwic, and refuses him. Hartmut and Ludwig bring an army and capture the Hegeling castle, and carry away Gu- drun with her hand-maidens. 753-809. Tale XVI. Hettel and Herwic, being informed of their losses by Hilda, make peace with Siegfried, and release him on condition that he will unite with them in war against Hartmut. They take possession of the ships of a pilgrim band, and pursue Hartmut. 810-846. Tale XVII. Ludwig and Hartmut, on their way to Normandy with Gu-drun, stop at a desert island, called Wulpensand; Hettel and Herwic, in pursuit, reach the island, and a battle ensues. 847-879. Tale XVIII. Ludwig, king of the Normans, slays Hettel, and his army steals away with the maidens in the night. The Hegelings discover their departure, bury the dead, and erect a hospital and cloister in their memory. 880-918. Tale XIX. The Hegelings return, and announce to Queen Hilda the death of her husband and their ill-success. They decide to wait till the young knights become old enough for war, and then to make a second campaign against the Normans. 919-950. Tale XX. The Normans reach their land with Gu-drun and her maidens; she refuses to marry Hartmut, and is placed in the care of Gerlind, his mother, who treats her harshly and obliges her to perform menial service. Ortrun, the sister of Hartmut, shows kindness to Gu-drun. 951-1040. Tale XXI. Gu-drun receives better treatment, but, still refusing to marry Hartmut, she is sent to wash clothes on the seashore. Hildeburg, one of her maidens, obtains permission to share her labors, which are continued through many years. 1041-1070. Tale XXII. Hilda summons her vassals to make an expedition against the Normans. After visiting the graves of their kinsmen on the Wulpensand, they pass in safety the magnetic rocks at Givers, and arrive on the coast of Normandy. 1071-1141. Tale XXIII. Herwic and Ortwin, the brother of Gu-drun, agree to go forward in advance to procure intelligence in regard to her and her maidens. 1142-1164. Tale XXIV. While Gu-drun and Hildeburg are washing on the seashore, a swan announces to them the approach of Queen Hilda’s army for their rescue, and tells them that two knights will come the next morning to inform them still further of this. 1165-1206. Tale XXV. Herwic and Ortwin, coming in a boat, see the maidens washing on the shore, recognize them, and make themselves known. Thinking it dishonorable to take the maids away without winning them in fight, the knights return to bring their army. The maidens go back to Gerlind, and, feeling sure of her speedy rescue, Gu-drun pretends to agree to Hartmut’s suit, and is restored to favor. 1207-1334. Tale XXVI. On their return to their friends, Herwic and Ortwin make known the result of their search. The Hegeling army arrives before the Norman castle, and is discovered by Ludwig and Hartmut. 1335-1365. Tale XXVII. Hartmut names to Ludwig the banners of the coming knights. On learning that the Hegeling army is approaching, Gerlind counsels her son, Hartmut, to await a siege; but he chooses to sally forth, with Ludwig and their followers, and a battle ensues, in which Ludwig overthrows Herwic. 1366-1440. Tale XXVIII. Herwic, feeling mortified that Gu-drun from the castle should see his fall, returns to the fight, and slays Ludwig. Gerlind bribes one of her men to put Gu-drun to death, but he is prevented by the threats of Hartmut. Hartmut is taken prisoner, and carried on board a ship. 1441-1493. Tale XXIX. The Hegelings obtain possession of the castle, and spare neither old nor young. Ortrun seeks refuge with Gu-drun, and Gerlind also implores her protection, but she is recognized and killed by Wâ-te. The Hegeling army devastate the land: Hartmut and Ortrun are held captive. 1494-1560. Tale XXX. The Hegeling army returns home, bringing Gu-drun and her maidens, with the Norman captives. Hilda welcomes the returning ships, and embraces her daughter, whom she does not at first recognize, after her long absence. By Gu-drun’s request, Hilda is reconciled to Hartmut and Ortrun, and Ortwin takes Ortrun for his bride. Hartmut and his men are set free, on their promise not to escape, and Hartmut [xiii] [xiv] agrees to wed Hildeburg. Herwic’s sister is sent for, and betrothed to Siegfried. 1561-1666. Tale XXXI. A great wedding festival is held, at which the four kings, Herwic, Ortwin, Hartmut, and Siegfried, try to surpass each other in generous giving. Hartmut with his bride, Hildeburg, leaves for Normandy. 1667-1695. Tale XXXII. Siegfried, king of Moorland, goes home, taking his bride, Herwic’s sister. Herwic returns to his home with Gu-drun, after she has bidden farewell to her mother, Hilda, and to her brother, Ortwin, and Ortrun, his wife. 1696-1705. Names of Persons. Ger,—an early king of Ireland, grandfather of Hagen. U-te,—wife of Ger. Sigeband,—son of Ger and U-te. U-te,—a Norwegian princess, wife of Sigeband. Hagen,—son of Sigeband and the second U-te, and grandfather of Gu-drun. Hilda,—a princess of India, wife of Hagen. Hilda,—daughter of Hagen, wife of Hettel. Hettel,—king of the Hegelings, husband of Hilda, and father of Gu-drun and Ortwin. Gu-drun,—daughter of Hettel and Hilda. Ortwin,—prince of Ortland, son of Hettel and Hilda. Wâ-te, Fru-te, Horant, Morunc, Irold, } vassals of Hettel. Ludwig,—king of Normandy. Gerlind,—wife of Ludwig. Hartmut,—son of Ludwig and Gerlind, a suitor for Gu-drun. Ortrun,—daughter of Ludwig and Gerlind. Siegfried,—king of Moorland, a suitor for Gu-drun. Herwic,—king of Sealand, betrothed to Gu-drun. Hildeburg, Hergart, } maiden companions of Gu-drun. Names of Places. Abakie,—an imaginary Eastern land, subject to Siegfried. Abalie,—an Eastern land, noted for gems and cloths. Alzabie,—a fabulous Moorland city, the residence of Siegfried. Amile,—an imaginary Eastern land, the home of mermaids. Araby,—a land whence came fine clothes and treasures. Ballian,—Ballyghan, Hagen’s chief city in Ireland. Daneland,—not the present Denmark, but, in the ninth century, the seat of the Danes in Friesland, near the mouth of the Scheldt. Dietmarsch,—a province subject to Hettel. Friesland,—subject to Hettel, and held in fief by Morunc and Irold. Galeis,—a land whose people are friendly to Herwic. Galicia,—Portugal, the home of Hildeburg. Garadie,—an indeterminate country, near Ireland. Givers,—a fabulous land, subject to Horant. Gulstred,—a place in the West. Hegeling,—the name of a people on the North Sea, in Holland, governed by Hettel. Holstein,—variously mentioned as subject to Fru-te, to Irolt, and to Ortwin. Icaria,—a fabulous land whose people are allies of Siegfried of Moorland. Ireland,—The situation seems sometimes to correspond with the modern Ireland, and sometimes to a part of Holland. There is a place in Texel, at the present day, named Eijerland. Iserland,—the home of one of Gu-drun’s maiden companions. Kampalia,—a fabulous land noted for rich clothing. Kampatille,—Hettel’s castle, also called Matelan. Karadie,—a land belonging to Siegfried of Moorland. Kassian,—the chief city and castle of Normandy. Matelan,—see Kampatille. Moorland,—the kingdom of Siegfried; owing to the love of the marvelous in antiquity, regarded by the poet as the land of the Moors, [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] but probably a low country near the North Sea. Nifland,—“the land of fogs,” on the lower Rhine, the home of the Nibelungen, Normandy or Ormanie,—may be the country now known as Normandy, or is perhaps a region near the mouth of the Scheldt, where the name Ormans-kapelle occurs in an ancient map. Ortland,—probably Jutland, under the rule of Ortwin. Salme,—a fabulous country. Sealand,—Herwic’s kingdom, not the Danish Zealand, but probably the sea-lands of Friesland. Scotland,—spoken of as belonging to Norway. Sturmland,—subject to Wâ-te, adjoining Herwic’s kingdom. Waleis,—the western limit of Hettel’s kingdom, by some supposed to be Wales, but generally thought to be the country near the mouth of the river Waal in Holland. Wulpensand,—an island at the mouth of the Scheldt. woodcut Tale the First. HOW HAGEN WAS CARRIED OFF BY THE GRIFFIN. In olden days in Ireland a king to greatness came Who bore the name of Sigeband; Ger was his father’s name. Queen U-te was his mother; she of a king was daughter; High was her worth and goodness, and well her love beseemed the lord who sought her. The sway of Ger was mighty, as unto all is known; He many lands and castles and lordships seven did own: Four thousand knights or over he thence was often leading, And wealth, and name yet greater, he daily won, with those who did his bidding. Now the youthful Sigeband to his father’s court must go, That he might there be learning all he had need to know,— To bear the spear in riding, to thrust it, and to shield him, That when he met the foeman, the better fame thereby the fight would yield him. That age he now was reaching when he the sword might bear; Of all that a knight befitteth he learned a goodly share. This from kin and vassals praise unmeasured brought him; For this he still was striving, and of the toil it cost he ne’er bethought him. A few short days thereafter death came among them all, As even to men the greatest sadly doth befall. In every land and kingdom the truth of this we’re meeting, And we, with heavy sorrow, such news ourselves must every day be waiting. Sigeband’s mother, U-te, the widow’s seat must take; Her son, so high and worthy, left all things for her sake. No whit he cared for wedlock, and had no heart for wooing; Many a queenly lady at this was sad, young Sigeband’s sorrow ruing. A worthy wife to find him his mother him besought; So might he and his kingdom to greater name be brought; And he with all his kindred, after their bitter sorrow For the death of the king, his father, might for themselves no little gladness borrow. The teaching of his mother he heard in kindly mood, And began at once to follow, as that of a friend one should. The best of high-born maidens, ’mong those in Norway dwelling, [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] He bade his men to sue for: to help in this he found his kinsmen willing. She soon to him was wedded, as hath of old been said. With her, among her followers, came many a lovely maid, And, from over Scotland’s border, seven hundred warriors fully; They came with her right gladly, when the worth of the king was known to them more truly. Proudly their way they wended, as beseemed the maiden’s birth; With all the care they led her befitting his kingly worth; Hidden were the roadways by gazers without number, Who hasted to behold her; for three miles and a half the throngs the ways did cumber. Where’er along the roadside the path with green was spread, Flowers and grass were trampled, by crowds, with heavy tread. It fell upon that season when the leaves are springing, And in every copse and thicket all the birds their best of songs are singing. Of simple folk and merry there rode with her enough; While many loaded horses bore much costly stuff, Brought there from her birthland by followers of the maiden; They came with her by thousands, with gold as well as clothing heavy-laden. On the shore of two wide marches, the dwellers by the sea, As they saw the west wind waft her, gave her welcome free; They found a seemly lodging for the lovely, well-born lady, And brought her all things needful, by the youthful king, before, for her made ready. The fair young maid they welcomed with knightly tournament; Not soon their games they ended, when on the spear-fight bent. To the land of Ger his father they bore her to be wedded; She there was loved and mighty, and men to sound her name she never needed. All, as they were able, waited on the maid; The gaudy cloth for her saddle down to the grass was spread; The horses’ hoofs were hidden by the housing, heavy drooping. Aha! In mood how gleeful was Ireland’s lord, once more a blessing hoping! When now the time was fitting that he the maid should kiss, All crowded thick about him, in haste to see their bliss. The bosses of their bucklers were now heard loudly clashing, Struck with blows together; each strove to shun the throngs, in uproar crashing. Now with the dawn of morning, they sent out, far and wide, To give to all the tidings of the coming of the bride, And that, with their master, they erelong would crown her. His queen she was thereafter, and well she earned from him the honor shown her. It was not deemed becoming that he his love should plight, Since she by birth was queenly, and he not yet a knight: He first, before his lieges, must the crown be wearing; To this his kinsmen helped him, and later of his worth were all men hearing. He, with knights five hundred, then was dubbed with the sword; Whatever they could wish for was given them at his word,— Both shields, and, for their wearing, every kind of clothing. The youthful king so dauntless, thro’ life, of fame and honor wanted nothing. For many a day thereafter his sway did Ireland bless, And never did his greatness at any time grow less. To all he freely listened; the poor man’s wrongs he righted; Widely known was his goodness; no truer knight than he his word e’er plighted. His boundless acres yielded a full and ready gain; His wife was known for wisdom, and worthy to be his queen. To hold her as their mistress full thirty lords it booted; As long as the sway she wielded, her hand to each his lands and home allotted. She bore unto her husband, within the next three years, [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] A child to see most comely; (such is the tale one hears.) When later he was christened, and they were told to name him, They gave the name of Hagen; and never since, the tale of his life doth shame him. He had most careful breeding, and kindly was he nursed; Should he be like his fathers, he would of knights be first. Watched over by wise women, and by maidens of early age, His father and fond mother found in his face their glad eyes’ pasturage. When now the boy, well fostered, to his seventh year was bred, ’Twas seen that he by warriors by the hand was often led. He was happy in men’s teaching, but was with women wearied; All this he knew no longer; for, torn from them, he far away was carried. Whene’er to him it happened weapons at court to see, He understood them readily, and their wearer longed to be; The helmet and ringed armor would he have put on gladly: Alas! not long he saw them, and all his hopes of fighting ended sadly. While the kingly Sigeband, beneath a cedar-tree, One day on the turf was seated, the queen said earnestly: “Although good name and riches we share with one another, At one thing yet I wonder, and this from you I dare to hide no further.” He asked of her: “What is it?” Then said his helpmeet kind: “It me doth sorely worry in body and in mind, And my heart, alas! is heavy; to my wish you give no heeding, To see you ’midst your vassals, my beaming eyes with pride upon you feeding.” The king to her thus answered: “How should it ever be That you have had such longing me with my knights to see? I will strive thy will to follow, of this think not so sadly; Ever to meet thy wishes, both care and toil will I give myself most gladly.” She said: “No man is living who owns such wealth, I trow, Who has so many castles or lands so wide as thou, With silver and gems so costly, and gold so heavy weighing; For this are our ways too lowly, and nought there is in life to me worth saying. “When erst I was a maiden, and on Scotland’s soil drew breath, (Chide not, my lord, thy helpmeet, but list to what she saith,) I there was daily seeing the liegemen of my father For highest prizes striving; but here such games we never see together. “A king so rich and mighty, as you in name have been, Before his followers often should let himself be seen; He oft should ride in tilting with other champions knightly, That both himself and his kingdom should seem more fair, and hold their rank more fitly. “It shows, in a lord so noble, a most unworthy mind, When he has heaped together riches of every kind, If he with his faithful warriors to share them is unwilling: When men in the storm of warfare deep wounds have had, how else can they find healing?” Then said to her King Sigeband: “Lady, you mock at me; In all these warlike pastimes I will most earnest be; And for the strife so worthy my wish shall never waver: No man shall find it easy the ways of well-born kings to teach me ever.” She said: “You now for warriors must send throughout the land; Stores of wealth and clothing must be given with open hand. I too will send out heralds my kinsmen all to rally, And to show them my good wishes; we then shall find our life to pass more gaily.” At this the king of Ireland unto his wife thus said: “I yield to you most willingly, for men are often led By the wishes of fair women great feastings to make ready; I therefore now will gather my brave and hardy kinsmen, and those too of my lady.” [36] [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [46] [47] [48] [49] To him the queen then answered: “Sorrow no more I wear; Five hundred women’s garments I will give, to each her share; To four and sixty maidens gay clothes to give I’m willing.” Then the king did tell her high times he soon would hold, his word fulfilling. The sports were then bespoken: he bade his men to send, In eighteen days or sooner, to liegeman and to friend, To say to all in Ireland, who would in his games be riding, That, after summer was ended, they should spend the winter, with him abiding. He bade his men make benches, so our tale doth run, And for these, from out the wilderness, timber must be drawn; For sixty thousand warriors seats must they make ready. His henchmen and deft stewards, to do this work for the king, were skilled and speedy. Thither men then hastened on many a winding way; All were kindly cared for throughout their lengthened stay. Now from Ireland’s kingdom, as the king had bidden, Full six and eighty thousand of warriors strong there to his court had ridden. From the store-rooms of the castle clothing now was borne,— All the gear they wished for, and all that could be worn. Shields were also given, and steeds of Irish breeding; The proud and queenly lady bedecked her guests with all they could be needing. She gave to a thousand women costly clothes enow, And likewise to fair maidens what one to youth should allow,— Broidered bands and jewels, and silk that glistened brightly; The many lovely ladies, together standing there, were fair and sightly. To every one who wished it were given clothes well-made. Horses were there seen prancing, by the hand of foot-boys led; These light shields did carry, and their spears were seizing. U-te, the queenly mother, was gladly seen, as she on the leads sat gazing. The guests by the king were bidden freely in tilts to meet; The glitter of their helmets grew dim in the dust and heat. The ladies, held in honor, near by were also seated, Where they the deeds of the warriors saw full well, and with words of wonder greeted. As oft before has happened, the show had lasted long; The king was not unwilling to be looked on by the throng. This, meanwhile, to his lady happiness was giving, As she, amidst her women, sat on the roof, and saw their earnest striving. When now her lord had ridden, as doth beseem a king, He thought to end their onsets; some rest to them to bring He deemed not unbecoming; to stop the games he bade them. And then before the ladies, after their skill thus shown, he proudly led them. U-te, the high-born lady, began her friends to greet, With those from far-off kingdoms; them as guests to meet The queen was truly willing; on them her glad eyes rested. The gifts of Lady U-te were not on scornful friends that evening wasted. Knights and lovely ladies together there were seen. The good-will of the master to all well-known had been; In all their games and tilting, his kindness was not hidden. Once more the guests, that evening, to ride in warlike strife by him were bidden. Their games and sports had lasted until nine days were gone; They, as knights befitteth, their skill to the king had shown. By the many wandering players the show was liked the better, And they plied their work more briskly, and hoped that their reward would be the greater. Sackbuts loud and trumpets there might all men hear; Fluting too and harping fell upon the ear. Some on the rote were playing, others in song were vying; [50] [51] [52] [53] [54] [55] [56] [57] [58] [59] [60] [61] [62] [63] They, by their jigs and fifing, soon would better clothes for themselves be buying. On the tenth morn it happened, (now hark to my sorry tale,) That, after all their pastimes, there rose a bitter wail. About these days so merry new tales were told on the morrow; And tho’ they now were mirthful, they came to know deep gloom and heavy sorrow. When the guests were seated beside their kingly host, There came to them a player, and proudly made his boast That he, before all others, (who should indeed believe him?) Was far more skilled in playing, and even the greatest lords their ear must give him. Outside, a lovely maiden was leading by the hand The little son of Sigeband who swayed the Irish land; With him were likewise women who to the boy gave heeding, And friendly kinsmen also, who carefully taught the child, and oversaw his breeding. Within the great king’s palace was heard a din and shout; All were there heard laughing, the roomy walls throughout. The guardians of young Hagen crowded up too nearly, And thus lost sight of the maiden, together with the child they loved so dearly. The evil luck of their master to him that day drew near, And brought to him and U-te sudden woe and fear. Sent by the wicked devil, from afar his herald hasted To them in their happy kingdom; they were by this with sorrow sorely wasted. It was a strong, wild griffin had quickly thither flown; From the little boy of Sigeband, who ever care had known, Came ill luck to his father, who soon of this was tasting. His son, so well-belovéd, to him was lost, with the mighty bird far hasting. A shadow now came o’er them, from wings that bore him fleet, As if a cloud had risen; great strength had the bird, I weet. The guests, in pastime busy, no thought to this had given, And the maid, with the child she was leading, was standing now alone, unheeded even. Beneath the weight of the griffin forest trees broke down; And now the trusty maiden looked where the bird had flown; Then she herself sought shelter, and left the child forsaken. Hearing a tale so startling, one truly might the whole for a wonder reckon. The griffin soon alighted, and in his claws he held The little child, gripped tightly, while with fear it quailed. His ghastly mood and anger the bird was harshly showing; This must knights and kinsmen long bewail, with sorrow ever growing. The boy was sorely frightened, and began aloud to shriek; Higher the mighty griffin flew, with outstretched beak; To the clouds above them floating he his prey was bearing. Sigeband, lord of Ireland, loudly wept, his outcries never sparing. His friends and all his kinsmen the sorry tale soon heard; They, in the death of his offspring, his bitter sorrow shared. Downcast were he and his lady, and all their loss felt nearly; Sorely they wept together, mourning the boy, now torn from them so early. In this their mood so gloomy, the happy, merry plays Must now be sadly ended. Before their frightened gaze, The griffin so had robbed them that all for home now started, Sober, and filled with sadness. They truly felt forlorn, and heavy-hearted. The king was bitterly weeping, his breast with tears was wet; The high-born queen besought him his sorrows to forget, Thus wisely to him speaking: “Should all in death be stricken, There must be an end of all things; it is the will of God their lives hath taken.” Now all would hence be faring, but the queen to them did say: [64] [65] [66] [67] [68] [69] [70] [71] “I beg you, knights and warriors, longer with us to stay; Our gifts of gold and silver, that here for you are ready, You should not think of meanly; our love for you is ever true and steady.” The knights to her bowed lowly, and then began they all To say how they were thankful. The king, thereon, did call For silken stuffs, the richest, for all who there yet tarried; They had ne’er been cut nor opened; and from far-off lands had erst to the king been carried. He gave them also horses, both palfreys and war-steeds; The horses out of Ireland were tall and of hardy breeds. Red gold was likewise given, and silver without weighing; The king with care had bidden outfit good for his guests, no longer staying. Soon as the queen was willing, each her leave now takes, Both lovely maids and women; each one herself bedecks With gifts that made her fairer; all new clothes are wearing. The high times now are ended; Sigeband’s land they leave, and are homeward faring. woodcut woodcut Tale the Second. HOW HAGEN SLEW THE GRIFFIN. Of how their stay was ended I will speak no longer here; Now I tell you further of the rushing flight in the air, That the child with the angry griffin far away was bearing. For this his friends and kinsmen long in their hearts were heavy sorrow wearing. Because the Lord so willed it the child was not yet dead; But, none the less, he later a life of sadness led, After the harsh old griffin back to his nestlings bore him. When on their prey they gloated, hard toil enough the boy had now before him. Soon as the bird that bore him did on his nest alight, He dropped the boy he carried, and in his claws held tight; One of the young ones caught him: that he did not devour him Thanks to God thereafter were given, far and wide, for the watch kept o’er him. Else the birds had slain him, and with their claws had torn. Now listen all with wonder, and his bitter sorrow learn: Hear how the king of Ireland then from death was shielded; Him a young bird now carried, strongly clutched, and naught of his grip he yielded. From tree to tree in the forest he with the boy took flight; The bird a little too boldly trusted his strength and might. [72] [73] [74] [75] [76] [77] [78] [79] [80] [81] [82] [83] [84] Upon a branch he lighted, but now to the ground must flutter, For he was much too heavy; in the nest to have longer staid had methinks been better. The child, while the bird was falling, broke from him away, And hid among the bushes, a little, lorn estray; Well-nigh was he to starving, ’twas long since food he tasted. Yet on a day long after the hopes of women in Ireland on him rested. God doth many a wonder, truly one may say. By the craft of the mighty griffin, it came to pass one day, Three daughters fair of princes had been taken thither, And now near by were dwelling. No man can tell how there they lived together, And how, thro’ days so many, their lives to them were spared, Were it not that God in heaven for them in kindness cared. Hagen now no longer need live without a fellow; Those good and lovely maidens soon found the little waif in a rocky hollow. When, crawling to his hiding, they the child did see, It might, so thought the maidens, a dwarfish goblin be, Or perhaps it was a water-oaf, from out the sea up-driven; But when the boy came near them, at once a welcome kind to him was given. Hagen was ware of the maidens, as into their cave they stole, While with fear and sadness their little hearts were full, Before they yet had knowledge that they a Christian greeted. But the care they later showed him lifted the pain from many hearts o’erweighted. First spake the eldest maiden: “How darest thou in our cave, Where from the God of heaven we home and shelter have? Go, seek again thy playmates, the billowy waters under; Enough ourselves we sorrow, and on our bitter lot in sadness ponder.” The high-born child then answered: “I pray you let me stay; I truly am a Christian, you must not say me nay. One of the griffins seized me, and to the cave did carry; I cannot live all lonely, and here with you would I most gladly tarry.” Then to the child so friendless they loving welcome gave; But they of his worth thereafter did better knowledge have. They now could ask him only, whence he had been stolen; But, such was then his hunger, in telling his tale, his heart was full and swollen. Then spake the little foundling: “Food I sorely need; Give to me, in kindness, a little drink and bread. ’Tis long since I have had it, and now three days I’m fasting, The while the griffin bore me, and full a hundred miles was hither hasting.” Then answered one of the maidens: “Our lot it so hath been, That we our wonted cup-bearers never here have seen; Neither our lordly steward, who should food to us be giving.” Still they praised God’s goodness; altho’ their years were few, they were wisely living. A search they soon were making for roots and herbage wild, Wherewith they hoped to strengthen Sigeband’s darling child. Such food as they had lived on they gave to him most freely; To him ’twas a meal unwonted, but such as they long time had eaten daily. Yet he needs must eat it, for hunger sore he hath, And hard it is to any to meet with bitter death. Thro’ all the days so dreary, while with the maidens dwelling, To them his help most willing he ever gave, his thankfulness thus telling. They, too, had him in keeping, that can I say for truth; He there grew up in sadness, throughout his early youth; Until, one day, the children, to make them greatly sorrow, Before their cavern-dwelling saw wonders rise, that threatened more to-morrow. [85] [86] [87] [88] [89] [90] [91] [92] [93] [94] [95] [96] [97] [98] I know not from what border, tossing o’er sea to land, Came to those shores so rocky a holy pilgrim band. The ground-swell it was heavy, and rocked the bark full sorely; Thereat the banished maidens felt their care and sorrow growing hourly. Soon the ship was shattered; not one his life could save. Quickly the stern old griffins came down beside the wave; Seizing many drowned ones, back to their nest they hurried. Many a woman was mourning, soon as the sorry tale to her was carried. When to the hungry nestlings the food they took in haste, Back again the griffins came from their offspring’s nest; From what far spot I know not, along the sea-paths flying. Their young they left on the hillside, with a neighbor grim, while they were hither hieing. One day the goods of the sailors Hagen saw near the sea, For many had been drowned there; holy men were they. He thought, among the wreckage, food might still lie hidden; But, through fear of the wicked griffins, he softly crept to the shore, by hunger bidden. No one could he find there, but a body in armor alone; Thereby the wild old griffin hard work would give him soon. Out from his armor he shook him, nor did he spurn to wear it: He found a bow and weapons, by its side, on the sandy shore, lying near it. With these himself he girded, that simple little child; When in the air above him he heard a rushing wild. He wished that he had loitered, the sorry little master; But quickly came the griffin; to the sheltering cavern fain would he flee the faster. The bird swung down in anger to the sandy beach and foam; The little playmate and fellow of the young it left at home, Would by the angry griffin have at once been swallowed; But now the bold young Hagen the ways of a daring foeman bravely followed. He with strength but youthful the tightened string drew out, And arrows swift and many from the well-bent bow he shot. Alas! he did not hit him; what hope of his ill-luck turning? Then he of the sword bethought him; he heard the maids bewailing him and mourning. Tho’ his years were not yet many, he still was brave enough; A wing from the angry griffin he struck at the shoulder off, And in the leg he smote him a heavier blow and stronger; So that his wounded body the bird away from the spot could drag no longer. The boy was now the winner; one of his foes lay dead; But quickly came another, who sorrow for him made. All at last were slaughtered; nor old nor young were living; God in heaven helped him; but truly against such strength ’twere hopeless striving. When he that feat of wonder had done, with heart so brave, He called the friendly maidens from out their rocky cave. He said: “Let air and sunshine your sorry hearts be filling; Since now the God in heaven to grant to us some bliss at last is willing.” His call they kindly welcomed, and many times, forsooth, The boy by the lovely maidens was kissed upon the mouth. Their keeper now lay lifeless; and none there was to hinder Their roaming o’er the hillsides, and, far or near, at their good-will to wander. By help of the boy, from sorrow they now were wholly free; The little childish wanderer, so skilled with the bow was he, That birds his well-shot arrows could never shun by flying. He shot them now for pastime; but to get them soon for food must he be trying. He in heart was daring, he was mild, but also brave; Hey! from the wild beasts learning, what nimble leaps he gave! As doth the strong young panther, over the rocks he scrambled;