The Nibelungenlied: The Lay of the Nibelungs (Oxford World's Classics) (40 page)

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mind, but will attack us now, if you slay any of my friends that I still have in here, I’ll take your life with your own sword. I will grieve then for you, Rüedeger, and for your noble wife.’

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‘Would God, Sir Gernot, that it might happen that all your wishes were carried out here, and that your friends might survive! Both my daughter and my wife must place their full trust in you.’
*

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Then fair Uote’s son of Burgundy said: ‘Why are you doing this, Sir Rüedeger? Those who have come here with me all hold you dear—you act ill to intervene. You want to make a widow of your fair daughter too early. If you and your warriors attack me in battle, that

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is no friendly way to show why I trust you above all other men, which is why I took your daughter for my wife.’

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‘Bear your loyalty in mind, most noble, proud king. If God sends you away from here,’ said Rüedeger, ‘do not let the damsel pay the price for my deeds. Be merciful to her in your courtesy.’

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‘I’d do so in all justice,’ said young Giselher, ‘yet if my noble kinsmen who are still inside here should die at your hands, then my most constant friendship with you, and also your daughter, must be at an end.’

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‘Now God grant us mercy!’ said the bold warrior.

Then they raised their shields, setting off to do battle with the guests in Kriemhilt’s hall. Hagen called out loudly then, down the steps: ‘Stay a while, most noble Rüedeger,’ said Hagen. ‘We would

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talk more, I and my lords, as our peril compels us. How can the death of us foreigners aid Etzel?’ ‘I stand here in great trouble,’ Hagen

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went on. ‘The Huns have hewn to pieces before my hands the shield which Lady Gotelint gave me to bear. I bore it in friendship into Etzel’s land. May God in Heaven grant that I should yet bear so good

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a shield as that you hold before your hand, most noble Rüedeger! Then I would have no need of any hauberk in battles.’

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‘I would most willingly help you by giving you my shield, if I dared offer it you, despite Kriemhilt. Yet take it, Hagen, and bear it in your hand. Ah, if only you were to take it back home to Burgundy!’

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When he so willingly offered to give him the shield, plenty of eyes grew red with hot tears. It was the last gift that Rüedeger of Pöchlarn ever offered to any warrior. No matter how grim Hagen was and how

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hard of heart, the gift that the worthy hero gave him, so close to his
end, moved him to pity. Great numbers of noble knights were saddened along with him.

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‘Now God in Heaven reward you, most noble Rüedeger! Your like will never live again, giving such splendid gifts to foreign warriors. May God command that your courtesy lives forever! Alas for these

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tidings!’ Hagen went on. ‘We had so many other burdens to bear. If we are to fight with friends, let that be lamented to God!’

The margrave replied: ‘I am heartily sorry for this.’

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‘Now God reward you for this gift, most noble Rüedeger! No matter how these proud warriors treat you, my hand will never touch you in battle here, even if you were to slay all the men of Burgundy.’

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Worthy Rüedeger bowed courteously to him for that. On all sides they wept that no one could put an end to those heart’s sorrows. There was great anguish there. (The father of all virtues was to lie dead with Rüedeger.)

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Then Volker the minstrel spoke from the hall: ‘Since my companion Hagen has made this truce with you, you shall have it in constancy from my hand also. You earned it well when we came into this land.

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Most noble margrave, you must be my messenger. The margravine gave me these red torques to wear at the festivity here. You can see them for yourself—be my witness that I did so.’

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‘Would God in Heaven,’ Rüedeger replied, ‘that the margravine should give you yet more! I’ll gladly tell these tidings to my beloved, if I live to see her—rest assured of that!’

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When he had made that vow to him, Rüedeger raised his shield. He went berserk. He waited no longer there, but ran at the guests, most like a warrior. The wealthy margrave struck many a mighty blow.

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Those two stood back, Volker and Hagen, for those bold knights had vowed to him before that they would do so. Yet Rüedeger found such bold men standing by the doors that he began battle with a troubled mind. Bent on slaughter, Gunther and Gernot let him

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enter—they had heroes’ minds. Giselher stood back then; he was truly sorry for this. He still thought to survive, which was why he avoided Rüedeger.

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Then the margrave’s men leapt at their foes. They were seen to follow their lord in most warrior-like fashion. They bore in their hands cutting swords, which caused many helmets to break apart there, and many a splendid rim. The weary Burgundians struck

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against those of Pöchlarn many fierce blows which weighed straight
and deep, right through the bright mail to the seat of life. They did most splendid deeds in that battle.

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By now the noble retinue of Pöchlarn had all made its way in. Volker and Hagen quickly leapt to the attack. They had given a truce to none but the one man. The blood ran down through helmets at the blows struck by their hands. How fiercely many swords rang out in

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the hall! Many shield-clasps leapt out of their fastenings, the gems in the shields falling into the blood as they were hewn to pieces. They fought so fiercely that none will ever do the like again.

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The overlord of Pöchlarn strode back and forth as only a man of courage can in battle. That day Rüedeger showed beyond doubt that he was a valiant warrior of high renown.

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Those warriors Gunther and Gernot stood their ground there; they slew great numbers of heroes in the battle. Giselher and Dancwart, those two, thought little of dispatching great numbers to their doom.

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Rüedeger showed beyond doubt that he had ample strength and was bold and well armed. Ah, what heroes he slew! One of the Burgundians saw this—he was enraged. That caused noble Rüedeger’s death to draw near. Mighty Gernot called out to the hero. He said to

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the margrave: ‘You will let none of my men live, most noble Rüedeger! That troubles me beyond measure—I can’t look on any longer. Now your gift may well come to harm you, since you have taken

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so many of my friends from me. Turn around and face me now, most noble, bold warrior. I shall prove worthy of your gift as best as I can!’

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Before the margrave could make his way over to him, bright mail had to be discoloured.
*
Then those two men, avid for honour, leapt at one another. Both ducked under their shields to avoid deep wounds.

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Their swords were so sharp that nothing could counter them. Then Rüedeger the warrior struck Gernot through his flint-hard helmet, so that the blood flowed down. The bold and worthy knight was quick to repay him for that. He swung Rüedeger’s gift high in his hands.

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Although he was mortally wounded, he struck him a blow through his excellent shield, right down to his helmet-straps.
*
By that blow fair Gotelint’s husband had to die. Never was such a rich gift worse

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rewarded. Both fell slain then, Gernot and Rüedeger, by each other’s hands in the battle.

Only now was Hagen enraged, when he saw what great harm had been done. The hero of Tronege then said: ‘An ill fate has befallen us.

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We have suffered such great harm by the loss of these two that their
people and lands will never overcome it. Rüedeger’s heroes will pay the price for this at the hands of us strangers to this land.’

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‘Alas for my brother,
*
whose death has been brought about here! What ill tidings reach me at all times! I must also rue noble Rüedeger forever. There is harm and grievous loss on both sides.’

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When Lord Giselher saw that his father-in-law was dead, those who were in the hall there had to suffer peril. Death sought hard for his retinue there. Of the men of Pöchlarn, not a single one survived.

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Gunther and Giselher, and also Hagen, Dancwart, and Volker, those worthy warriors, walked over to where they saw the two men lying. The heroes wept there in their grief. ‘Death is robbing us

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harshly,’ said young Giselher. ‘Now leave off your weeping and let us go out into the breeze, so that our chainmail may cool, battle-weary as we are. I don’t believe God in Heaven will deign to let us live longer here.’ Some warriors were seen sitting, others leaning. They were idle

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again. Rüedeger’s heroes lay dead there. The clamour had died down.

The silence lasted so long that it irked Etzel. ‘Alas for such service!’

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said the king’s wife. ‘It has not been so constant that our foes can have paid the price at Rüedeger’s hands. He wants to lead them back into Burgundy. How does it help, King Etzel, that we have shared with

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him all that he wanted? The hero has acted ill. He who ought to have avenged us there wants to seek a truce.’

Volker, that most gallant warrior, answered her: ‘Sadly, that is not

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so, most noble king’s wife. If I dared to call such a noble person a liar, then I might say that you have lied devilishly about Rüedeger. He and his warriors have been entirely deceived if they thought to obtain a truce. He has done the king’s bidding so willingly that he

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and his retinue lie dead here. Look all about you now, Kriemhilt, for someone to command now. Rüedeger the hero has served you until his end. If you don’t want to believe this, you shall be shown the

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truth of the matter.’

To her heart’s grief that then took place. They carried the hero who had been hewn down to where the king could see him. Etzel’s warriors were never so truly grief-stricken. When they saw the margrave

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borne dead, no scribe could ever record or tell aloud of the great breast-beating which began to show itself there, on the part of man and woman alike, in their hearts’ grief. Etzel’s grief was so great that

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the mighty king roared like a lion in his heartfelt cry of woe, as also did his wife. They mourned beyond measure for worthy Rüedeger.

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T
HEN
such great grief was heard on all sides that the palace and the towers resounded with the cries of woe. One of Dietrich of Bern’s men heard this, too. How he hurried when he heard those stark tidings! He said then to the prince: ‘Listen, my lord Dietrich!

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As long as I have lived, I have never heard such truly impossible lamentation as I have now heard. I think King Etzel himself has come to harm. How might they otherwise all be in such anguish? The

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king or Kriemhilt—one or other of them lies dead as a result of the bold guests’ hostility. Great numbers of gallant knights are weeping beyond measure.’

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Then the hero of Bern said: ‘My beloved men, do not be in too great haste now. All that the foreign warriors have done here was caused by dire necessity. Let them profit by the truce I offered them.’

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Then bold Wolf hart said: ‘I will go over and ask for tidings as to what they have done, and will tell you them then, my dearest lord, once I’ve found out what has caused this lament.’

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Then Lord Dietrich said: ‘When anger is to be expected if uncouth questions are put, that can easily trouble warriors’ minds. I don’t want you, Wolf hart, to ask questions of them.’ Then he asked

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Helpfrich
*
to hurry over and find out from Etzel’s men or the guests themselves what had happened there.

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Such great lamentation had never been seen. The messenger put

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his questions: ‘What has been done here?’

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One amongst them then said: ‘What happiness we had in Hungary has all vanished. Rüedeger lies slain here by the hands of the Burgundians. Of those who entered the hall with him, not one

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has survived.’

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Helpfrich could never be more sorrowful. Never had he been so unwilling to tell tidings. The messenger went back to Dietrich, weeping sorely.

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‘What have you found out for us?’ said Dietrich then. ‘Why are you weeping so sorely, Sir Helpfrich?’

The noble warrior replied: ‘I have good reason to mourn. The Burgundians have slain worthy Rüedeger.’

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Then the hero of Bern said: ‘God forbid! That would be stark vengeance, and fit for the Devil’s scorn! How might Rüedeger have merited that of them? I know full well that the foreigners hold him dear.’

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Wolf hart answered: ‘If they have done this, it must cost all of them their lives. If we were to tolerate this, we would be disgraced. Worthy Rüedeger has done us great service.’
*

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The overlord of the Amelungs ordered that more be found out. Full of troubles, he sat at a window. He asked Hildebrant, then, to go to the guests to find out from them what had been done there. Master Hildebrant, that battle-bold
*
warrior, bore neither

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shield nor sword in his hands: he wanted to approach the guests with courtesy. His sister’s son chided him. Fierce Wolf hart said: ‘If you

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want to go there unarmed, you’re bound to be insulted, and you’ll have to return in disgrace. If you go there armed, then some of them may well hold back from scorn.’

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Then the wise old man armed himself on the young fool’s advice. Before he was aware of it, all Dietrich’s warriors were in their battle-gear and bore swords in their hands. The hero was sorry for it; he would most willingly have prevented it. He asked where they