The Nibelungenlied: The Lay of the Nibelungs (Oxford World's Classics) (41 page)

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wanted to go. ‘We want to go with you. What if Hagen of Tronege is not so ready then to hurl insults at you, as is his habit?’ When he heard those words, the warrior gave them leave to go.

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Then bold Volker saw the warriors of Bern, Dietrich’s men, approaching well-armed, girded with swords. They bore shields in their hands. He told this to his lord of Burgundy. The fiddler said:

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‘I see Dietrich’s men approaching there, full of hostility, armed beneath helmets—they want to attack us. I believe we strangers to this land have hard times ahead.’

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At that moment Hildebrant arrived. He laid his shield-rim down at his feet. He asked Gunther’s men: ‘Alas, you worthy heroes, what harm had Rüedeger done you? My lord Dietrich has sent

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me to you here. If any of you had slain the noble margrave, as we’ve been told, we’d never be able to overcome such grievous sorrow.’

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Hagen of Tronege replied: ‘What you say is no lie. How gladly I would grant you that the messenger had deceived you, for love of Rüedeger, and that he were still alive! Both men and women may weep forever over his loss!’

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When they heard for certain that he was dead, the warriors mourned him as their loyalty demanded. Tears were seen to fall down the beards and chins of Dietrich’s warriors—great sorrow had befallen them. Sigestap,
*
the Duke of Bern, then said: ‘Now all the

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ease is at an end which Rüedeger brought about for us after our days of hardship. The joy of exiles lies slain by you heroes.’

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Then Wolfwin,
*
the warrior of the Amelungs, said: ‘Even if I were to see my father dead today, I would never grieve more than for Rüedeger. Alas, who now is to console the worthy margrave’s wife?’

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Then Wolf hart the warrior, angry in his mind, said: ‘Who now is to lead the warriors on so many a campaign as the margrave has done time and again? Alas, most noble Rüedeger, that we have thus lost you!’

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Wolfprant
*
and Helpfrich, and also Helmnot,
*
along with all their friends, wept over his death. Hildebrant could put no further questions, so heavily did he sigh. He said: ‘Do now, you warriors, what my lord has sent you for.
*
Hand over Rüedeger to us out of

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the hall, dead as he is, he with whom our joy has all fallen to grief. Let us repay him for all that he ever did for us, the great loyalty

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that he showed us and many another man. We are also exiles, as was Rüedeger the warrior. Why are you keeping us waiting? Let us bear him away, so that we may yet reward him after his death. It would have been just if we had done so in his lifetime.’

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King Gunther replied: ‘Never was service so good as that which a friend renders his friend after his death. That I call constant loyalty, if a man can fulfil it. You are right to reward him—he acted kindly towards you.’

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‘How long are we to plead?’ said Wolf hart the warrior. ‘Now that our best hope lies dead at your hands, and we must, sadly, do without him, let us carry him away so that we can bury the warrior.’

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Volker answered: ‘No one will give him to you. If you take him from the hall where the warrior lies, fallen with mortal wounds into the blood, that would be paying full homage to Rüedeger.’

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Bold Wolfhart then said: ‘God knows, sir minstrel, there is no need for you to provoke us! You have brought us sorrow. If I dared, despite my lord’s command, you’d meet with peril for this. We must let it be now, for he forbade us to do battle here.’
*

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The fiddler replied: ‘That fear is too great by far if a man wants to renounce all that is forbidden him. I cannot call that a true hero’s spirit.’ Those words of his companion-in-arms seemed good to Hagen.

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’Do not be so eager!’ answered Wolf hart. ‘I’ll so disarrange your strings that when you ride back to the Rhine, you’ll have a fine tale to tell. I cannot in all honour put up with your haughtiness.’

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The fiddler replied: ‘If you ever rob my strings of sweet melodies, your helmet’s bright sheen must be dimmed by my hands, whether or not I ride back to Burgundy.’

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Wolf hart wanted to leap at him then, but Hildebrant, his uncle, did not let him, grasping him firmly in his arms. ‘I believe you wanted to go berserk in your foolish anger. You would have forfeited my lord’s favour forever.’

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‘Let the lion loose, master—he is so fierce! Yet if he falls into my hands,’ said Volker, that worthy warrior, ‘even if he had slain all the world with his hands, I’ll strike him such a blow that he’ll never be able to tell the tale.’

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The man of Bern was greatly enraged at that. Wolf hart, that bold, worthy warrior, grabbed his shield. Like a wild lion he ran in ahead of them. His friends made haste to follow him. Though he took

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great leaps towards the wall of the hall, old Hildebrant caught up with him in front of the stairs. He did not want to let him enter battle before him. They were to find what they sought at the foreigners’ hands. Master Hildebrant leapt at Hagen then. The swords in their

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hands were heard to ring out. They were in a great rage, as could soon be perceived. Fiery red sparks blazed from their two swords. In the

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heat of the battle they were then parted. That was the doing of the men of Bern, so strong were they. Hildebrant at once turned away from Hagen. Then strong Wolf hart ran at bold Volker. He struck

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the fiddler such a blow on his sturdy helmet that the sword’s blade pierced its straps. The bold minstrel paid him back courageously. He struck Wolf hart such a blow then that he sprayed sparks. They

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hewed ample fire out of their chainmail. Each bore the other great hostility. Then Wolfwin, the warrior of Bern, parted them. If he had not been a hero, that could not have happened.

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Gunther the warrior welcomed the famed heroes from the land of the Amelungs with a most willing hand. Lord Giselher rendered great numbers of bright visors red and wet with blood there.

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Dancwart, Hagen’s brother, was a grim foe. All that he had done before in battle against Etzel’s warriors was but a trifle. Bold Aldrian’s son fought in a great rage now. Ritschart
*
and Gerbart,
*
Helpfrich

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and Wichart,
*
had seldom spared themselves in many onslaughts,
as they made Gunther’s vassals well aware. Then Wolfprant was seen to stride proudly into battle. Old Hildebrant fought as if he were

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berserk. Wolf hart’s hands caused many worthy warriors to fall dead into the blood by his sword’s blows. Thus the bold and worthy warriors avenged Rüedeger.

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Lord Sigestap then fought as his courage counselled him. Ah, what good helmets of his foes Dietrich’s sister’s son hewed to pieces in that onslaught! He could never have fought better than in that battle!

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Mighty Volker, that hero, when he beheld that bold Sigestap hewed such a bloody brook out of hard mail, grew angry. He leapt towards him—swiftly then Sigestap lost his life at the hands of the

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fiddler there! He granted him such a share of his art there that he lay dead by his sword.

Old Hildebrant avenged that, as his valour demanded of him.

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‘Alas for my dear lord,’ said Master Hildebrant, ‘who lies slain here by Volker’s hand! Now the fiddler shall live no longer!’ Bold Hildebrant, how could he ever be fiercer? He struck Volker such a

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blow then that the bold minstrel’s helm-straps flew up in all directions against the wall of the hall, both from his helmet and his shield. By that mighty Volker met his end there.

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Then Dietrich’s men forced their way into the battle. They struck such blows that rings of mail flew far off, and the points of swords were seen to fly high in the air. They fetched a hotly flowing brook from the helmets.

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Then Hagen of Tronege saw that Volker was dead. That was his greatest anguish of all at that festivity, of all that he had gained among his kinsmen and vassals there. Ah, how hard Hagen then set about avenging the hero! ‘Now old Hildebrant shall not profit by

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this! My helper lies slain by that hero’s hand, the best companion-in-arms I ever had!’ He raised his shield higher—he then strode off, hewing about him.

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Mighty Helpfrich slew Dancwart. Gunther and Giselher were full of grief when they saw him fall in the heat of the battle. He had fully requited his death by his deeds.

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Meanwhile Wolf hart strode back and forth, hewing at Gunther’s men all the time. He had made his third turn through the hall, great numbers of warriors falling at his hands. Then Lord Giselher

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shouted at Wolf hart: ‘Alas that I ever won so fierce a foe! Noble, bold knight, turn to face me now! I want to help end this—it cannot
last longer!’ Wolfhart turned towards Giselher to do battle. Each

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of them then struck one another great numbers of gaping wounds. Wolf hart pressed forward so strongly towards the king that the blood leapt up from beneath his feet, all over his head. With fierce, grim

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blows fair Uote’s son then welcomed Wolf hart, that bold hero. Strong as the warrior was, he could live no longer. No king so young could ever have been bolder. He struck such a blow at Wolf hart through

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his stout breastplate that the blood flowed down from his wound. He dealt Dietrich’s vassal a mortal wound. No one except that warrior could have done that. When bold Wolf hart realized he was

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wounded, he let his shield fall. Higher in his hand he raised a mighty sword—that was sharp enough! With a blow that pierced both his helmet and mail the hero then slew Giselher. They had both dealt

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one another grim death.

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None of Dietrich’s men were left alive then. Old Hildebrant saw Wolf hart fall. No such true sorrow, I believe, ever befell him as long as he lived. All Gunther’s men had then died, as well as those of Dietrich. Hildebrant walked over to where Wolf hart had fallen down into the blood. He took the bold and worthy warrior into his arms.

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He wanted to carry him out of the hall with him. Wolf hart was somewhat too heavy—he had to leave him lying there. The dying man then glanced up at him out of the blood. Wolf hart saw clearly that his kinsman would gladly have helped him away from there. The

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mortally wounded man then said: ‘My dearest uncle, you cannot help me at this time. Be on your guard against Hagen now—I think that good counsel. He is grim of heart. If my kinsmen want to mourn over

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my death, then you must tell my nearest and best not to weep for me—there is no need. I lie dead here in splendour, killed by a king’s hands. Moreover, I have taken such toll for my death in this hall

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that worthy knights’ wives may have good reason to weep over it. If anyone asks you, then you can readily say that a good hundred lie slain by my hands alone.’

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Then Hagen’s thoughts turned again to the bold minstrel, whose life bold Hildebrant had taken. He said to that warrior: ‘You will pay for my sorrows. You have robbed us in here of great numbers of gallant warriors.’ He struck such a blow at Hildebrant that Balmunc

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was clearly heard to ring out there, the sword that bold Hagen took from Sivrit when he slew the hero. The old man defended himself—he had ample courage!

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Dietrich’s warrior struck a blow with his broad sword upon the hero of Tronege, a blow that cut very deep. Yet he could not wound Gunther’s vassal. Then Hagen, in return, struck him through his fair breastplate. When old Hildebrant realized he was wounded, he feared

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more harm at Hagen’s hands. Dietrich’s vassal threw his shield over his back. Deeply wounded, the hero then ran away from Hagen.

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None was left alive there of all those warriors except those two alone, Gunther and Hagen. With the blood running from him, old Hildebrant walked away. He took grievous tidings over to Dietrich.

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He saw him sitting there in sadness. The prince then gained even greater grief. He saw Hildebrant in his red breastplate. He asked him for tidings then, as anxiety compelled him: ‘Now tell me, master

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Hildebrant, why are you so wet with heart’s blood? Or who has done this to you? I believe you have fought with the guests in the hall. I forbade you to do so strongly—you ought rightly to have refrained from this.’

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Then he said to his lord: ‘It was Hagen who did this. He struck me this wound in that chamber when I wanted to turn away from that warrior. I barely escaped with my life from that devil.’

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Then the Lord of Bern said: ‘You have met with your just deserts, since you heard me aver friendship to those warriors—that you should break the truce I had given them! If it were not to disgrace me forever, you would lose your life for this!’

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‘Now do not be so angry, my lord Dietrich. The harm that has been done to me and my friends is all too great. We wanted to carry Rüedeger away. King Gunther’s men would not grant us leave.’

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‘Woe is me for such sorrow, if Rüedeger is indeed dead! This must be grief to me above all other anguish of mine. Noble Gotelint is my aunt’s daughter. Alas for the poor orphans left there in Pöchlarn!

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’ Rüedeger’s death then recalled to him loyalty and grief. He began to weep sorely, as the hero had good cause to do: ‘Alas for the loyal help I have lost! I’ll never overcome the death of King Etzel’s vassal.

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Can you tell me for certain, master Hildebrant, who was the warrior who slew him there?’

Hildebrant said: ‘It was mighty Gernot in his strength. At Rüedeger’s hands that hero also lies dead.’