Song and Legend From the Middle Ages
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William D. McClintock and Porter Lander McClintock >> Song and Legend From the Middle Ages
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"Lord God of men," spake Hildebrand, "from heaven
Stay strife between two men so near in blood!"
Then twisted from his arm the bracelet ring
That once the King of Huns had given him,
I give it you in token of my love."
Spake Hadubrand, the son of Hildebrand,
"At the spear's point I take of you such gifts,
Point against point. No comrade thou, old Hun,
With Bly, enticing words wouldst win me near:
My answer to thee is with cast of spear.
Thou'rt old. This cunning out of age is bred."
Over the Midland Sea came foes who said,
"Hildebrand, son of Herbrand, he is dead."
Hildebrand, son of Herbrand, spake again:
"Thine arms show that in this land thou couldst not gain
A liberal leader or a royal friend.
Now well away. Great God, fate's evil end!
For sixty years, exile in stranger lands,
Summer and winter with spear-darting bands,
Never once leg bound within city wall,
I come back by my own son's hand to fall,
Hewn by his sword, or be his murderer,--
But if thy strength hold, thou canst readily
Win of the brave his arms, spoil of the slain,
When thine by right." Said Hildebrand, "Now, worst
Of Ostrogoths be he who holds me back! My heart is for the fray.
Judge comrades who look on, which of us wins
The fame, best throws the dart, and earns the spoil."
The ashen spears then sped, stuck in the shields
With their keen points, and down on the white shields
The heavy axes rang with sounding blows,
Shattering their rims, the flesh behind stood firm. . . .
--Tr. by Morley.
In the second, or Middle High German Period, the heroic legends
of early times were revived and formed the subject matter of many
epic and semi epic poems. These legends have been classified into
six several cycles of romances:[1]
[1] Cf. Morley's "English Writers." Vol. III., pp. 152-4.
1. The Frankish cycle contains the stories of Siegfried, the
Sigurd of the Scandinavian tradition.
2. The Burgundian cycle contains King Gunther.
3. The Ostrogoth cycle contains Dietrich, Theodoric, and
Hildebrand.
4. The Hungarian cycle, to which belongs Attila or Etzel, and
Rudiger.
5. The Lombard cycle, to which belong King Rother, King Otnit,
and Wolfdietrich.
6. The North Saxon cycle, to which belongs the tale of Gudrun.
The two most important of all the epics based upon these cycles
are the Gudrun and the Niebelungenlied. The latter is the more
comprehensive, national, and famous. It includes and unifies all
the tales from the first four cycles of heroic legends.[1] The
whole of German art, literature, and tradition is full of
reflections of this poem. The best scholarship has concluded that
the poem is not the work of a single author, but, like other folk
epics, an edited collection of songs. The work was finished about
1190-1210. It consists of two greater parts, (1) the "Death of
Siegfried" and (2) the "Vengeance of Kriemhild".
[1] See Kluge, "Geschichte der Deutschen National-Literature," p.
33.
From the "Niebelungenlied". The first song in the poem gives us
Kriemhild's foreboding dream.
KRIEMHILD'S DREAM.
Stanzas 1-19.
In stories of our fathers high marvels we are told
Of champions well approved in perils manifold.
Of feasts and merry meetings, of weeping and of wail,
And deeds of gallant daring I'll tell you in my tale.
In Burgundy there flourish'd a maid so fair to see,
That in all the world together a fairer could not be.
This maiden's name was Kriemhild; through her in dismal strife
Full many a proudest warrior thereafter lost his life.
Many a fearless champion, as such well became,
Woo'd the lovely lady; she from none had blame.
Matchless was her person, matchless was her mind.
This one maiden's virtue grac'd all womankind.
Three puissant Kings her guarded with all the care they might,
Gunther and eke Gernot, each a redoubted knight,
And Giselher the youthful, a chosen champion he;
This lady was their sister, well lov'd of all the three.
They were high of lineage, thereto mild of mood,
But in field and foray champions fierce and rude.
They rul'd a mighty kingdom, Burgundy by name;
They wrought in Etzel's country deeds of deathless fame.
At Worms was their proud dwelling, the fair Rhine flowing by,
There had they suit and service from haughtiest chivalry
For broad lands and lordships, and glorious was their state,
Till wretchedly they perish'd by two noble ladies' hate.
Dame Uta was their mother, a queen both rich and sage;
Their father hight Dancrat, who the fair heritage
Left to his noble children when he his course had run;
He too by deeds of knighthood in youth had worship won.
Each of these three princes, as you have heard me say,
Were men of mighty puissance. They had beneath their sway
The noblest knights for liegemen that ever dwelt on ground;
For hardihood and prowess were none so high renown'd.
There was Hagan of Troy of a noble line,
His brother nimble Dankwart, and the knight of Metz, Ortwine,
Eckewart and Gary, the margraves stout in fight,
Folker of Alzeia, full of manly might.
Rumolt the steward (a chosen knight was he),
Sindolt, and Hunolt; these serv'd the brethren three,
At their court discharging their several duties well;
Besides, knights had they many whom now I cannot tell.
Dankwart was marshal to the king his lord,
Ortwine of Metz, his nephew, was carver at the board,
Sindolt he was butler, a champion choice and true,
The chamberlain was Hunolt; they well their duties knew.
The gorgeous pomp and splendour, wherein these brethren reign'd,
How well they tended knighthood, what worship they attain'd,
How they thro' life were merry, and mock'd at woe and bale--
Who'd seek all this to tell you, would never end his tale.
A dream was dreamt by Kriemhild the virtuous and the gay,
How a wild young falcon she train'd for many a day,
Till two fierce eagles tore it; to her there could not be
In all the world such sorrow at this perforce to see.
To her mother Uta at once the dream she told,
But she the threatening future could only thus unfold;
"The falcon that thou trainedst is sure a noble mate;
God shield him in his mercy, or thou must lose him straight."
"A mate for me? what say'st thou, dearest mother mine?
Ne'er to love, assure thee, my heart will I resign.
I'll live and die a maiden, and end as I began,
Nor (let what else befall me) will suffer woe for man."
"Nay", said her anxious mother, "renounce not marriage so;
Wouldst thou true heartfelt pleasure taste ever here below,
Man's love alone can give it. Thou'rt fair as eye can see,
A fitting mate God send thee, and nought will wanting be."
"No more," the maiden answer'd, "no more, dear mother, say;
From many a woman's fortune this truth is clear as day,
That falsely smiling Pleasure with Pain requites us ever.
I from both will keep me, and thus will sorrow never."
So in her lofty virtues, fancy-free and gay,
Liv'd the noble maiden many a happy day,
Nor one more than another found favour in her sight;
Still at the last she wedded a far-renowned knight.
He was the self-same falcon she in her dream had seen,
Foretold by her wise mother. What vengeance took the queen
On her nearest kinsmen who him to death had done!
That single death atoning died many a mother's son.
In his home in the Netherlands the hero Siegfried hears of the
beauty of Kriemhild and after magnificent preparations comes to
Worms to win her, if possible, for his bride. After a long stay
at the court of her brother, he finally sees her at a feast. They
love each other at their first meeting. In Isenstein, far over
the sea, lives Brunhild, the Amazon-queen, who is pledged to wed
only him who can conquer her in single combat. Gunther, the
brother of Kriemhild, desires her for his wife. Siegfried
promises to win her for him on condition that Gunther grant him
Kriemhild's hand in return. They proceed to Brunhild's land,
where Siegfried, by the aid of a magic cloak, which renders him
invisible, helps Gunther to overcome Brunhild.
THE CONQUEST OF BRUNHILD.
Stanza 447-455.
There too was come fair Brunhild; arm'd might you see her stand,
As though resolv'd to champion all kings for all their land.
She bore on her silk surcoat, gold spangles light and thin,
That quivering gave sweet glimpses of her fair snowy skin.
Then came on her followers, and forward to the field
Of ruddy gold far-sparkling bore a mighty shield,
Thick, and broad, and weighty, with studs of steel o'erlaid,
The which was wont in battle to wield the martial maid.
As thong to that huge buckler a gorgeous band there lay;
Precious stones beset it as green as grass in May;
With varying hues it glitter'd against the glittering gold.
Who would woo its wielder must be boldest of the bold.
Beneath its folds enormous three spans thick was the shield,
If all be true they tell us, that Brunhild bore in field.
Of steel and gold compacted all gorgeously it glow'd.
Four chamberlains, that bore it, stagger'd beneath the load.
Grimly smil'd Sir Hagan, Trony's champion strong,
And mutter'd, as he mark'd it trail'd heavily along,
"How now, my lord king Gunther? who thinks to scape with life?
This love of yours and lady--'faith she's the devil's wife."
. . . . . . . . . . .
Then to the maid was carried heavily and slow
A strong well-sharpen'd jav'lin, which she ever us'd to throw,
Huge and of weight enormous, fit for so strong a queen,
Cutting deep and deadly with its edges keen.
To form the mighty spear-head a wondrous work was done;
Three weights of iron and better were welden into one;
The same three men of Brunhild's scarcely along could bring;
Whereat deeply ponder'd the stout Burgundian king.
To himself thus thought he, "What have I not to fear?
The devil himself could scarcely 'scape from such danger clear.
In sooth, if I were only in safety by the Rhine,
Long might remain this maiden free from all suit of mine."
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Stanza 464-483.
Then was the strength of Brunhild to each beholder shown.
Into the ring by th' effort of panting knights a stone
Was borne of weight enormous, massy and large and round.
It strain'd twelve brawny champions to heave it to the ground.
This would she cast at all times when she had hurl'd the spear;
The sight the bold Burgundians fill'd with care and fear.
Quoth Hagan, "she's a darling to lie by Gunther's side.
Better the foul fiend take her to serve him as a bride."
Her sleeve back turn'd the maiden, and bar'd her arm of snow,
Her heavy shield she handled, and brandished to and fro
High o'er her head the jav'lin; thus began the strife.
Bold as they were, the strangers each trembled for his life;
And had not then to help him come Siegfried to his side,
At once by that grim maiden had good King Gunther died.
Unseen up went he to him, unseen he touch'd his hand.
His trains bewilder'd Gunther was slow to understand.
"Who was it just now touch'd me?" thought he and star'd around
To see who could be near him; not a soul he found.
Said th' other, "I am Siegfried, thy trusty friend and true;
Be not in fear a moment for all the queen can do."
Said he, "off with the buckler and give it me to bear;
Now, what I shall advise thee, mark with thy closest care.
Be it thine to make the gestures, and mine the work to do."
Glad man was then king Gunther, when he his helpmate knew.
"But all my trains keep secret; thus for us both 'twere best;
Else this o'erweening maiden, be sure, will never rest,
Till her grudge against thee to full effect she bring.
See where she stands to face thee so sternly in the ring!"
With all her strength the jav'lin the forceful maiden threw.
It came upon the buckler massy, broad, and new,
That in his hand unshaken, the son of Sieglind bore.
Sparks from the steel came streaming, as if the breeze before.
Right through the groaning buckler the spear tempestuous broke;
Fire from the mail-links sparkled beneath the thund'ring stroke,
Those two mighty champions stagger'd from side to side;
But for the wondrous cloud-cloak both on the spot had died.
From the mouth of Siegfried burst the gushing blood;
Soon he again sprung forward; straight snatch'd the hero good
The spear that through his buckler she just had hurl'd amain,
And sent it at its mistress in thunder back again.
Thought he "'t were sure a pity so fair a maid to slay;"
So he revers'd the jav'lin, and turn'd the point away.
Yet, with the butt end foremost, so forceful was the throw,
That the sore-smitten damsel totter'd to and fro.
From her mail fire sparkled as driven before the blast;
With such huge strength the jav'lin by Sieglind's son was cast,
That 'gainst the furious impulse she could no longer stand.
A stroke so sturdy never could come from Gunther's hand.
Up in a trice she started, and straight her silence broke,
"Noble knight, Sir Gunther, 'thank thee for the stroke."
She thought 't was Gunther's manhood had laid her on the lea;
No! It was not he had fell'd her, but a mightier far than he.
Then turn'd aside the maiden; angry was her mood;
On high the stone she lifted rugged and round and rude,
And brandish'd it with fury, and far before her flung,
Then bounded quick behind it, that loud her armour rung.
Twelve fathoms' length or better the mighty mass was thrown,
But the maiden bounded further than the stone.
To where the stone was lying Siegfried fleetly flew
Gunther did but lift it, th' Unseen it was, who threw.
Bold, tall, and strong was Siegfried, the first all knights
among;
He threw the stone far further, behind it further sprung.
His wondrous arts had made him so more than mortal strong,
That with him as he bounded, he bore the king along.
The leap was seen of all men, there lay as plain the stone,
But seen was no one near it, save Gunther all alone.
Brunhild was red with anger, quick came her panting breath;
Siegfried has rescued Gunther that day from certain death.
Then all aloud fair Brunhild bespake her courtier band,
Seeing in the ring at distance unharm'd her wooer stand,
"Hither, my men and kinsmen: low to my better bow;
I am no more your mistress; you're Gunther's liegemen now."
Down cast the noble warriors their weapons hastily,
And lowly kneel'd to Gunther the king of Burgundy.
To him as to their sovran was kingly homage done,
Whose manhood, as they fancied, the mighty match had won.
He fair the chiefs saluted bending with gracious look;
Then by the hand the maiden her conquering suitor took,
And granted him to govern the land with sovran sway;
Whereat the warlike nobles were joyous all and gay.
Upon the return to Worms the double marriage feast is
celebrated--the weddings of Gunther and Brunhild, of Siegfried
and Kriemhild. A second time is Gunther compelled to ask the help
of Siegfried in conquering Brunhild, who again thinks that
Gunther is the conqueror. From this second struggle Siegfried
carries away Brunhild's ring and girdle, which he gives to
Kriemhild. Siegfried and Kriemhild depart to his country, and
not until after ten years do they visit again the court of
Gunther. At the festival given in honor of this visit, the two
queens, looking on at the knightly games, fall into a bitter
quarrel concerning the prowess of their husbands. Kriemhild
boasts to Brunhild that it was Siegfried and not Gunther who
overcame her in both struggles. To prove her taunt she shows the
girdle and ring. Brunhild is thrown into violent anger by the
insult and desires only vengeance upon Siegfried and Kriemhild.
Hagen, the most valiant of Gunther's vassals, takes up her cause,
and seeks opportunity to kill Siegfried. A war against the
Saxons is declared, in which Siegfried offers to assist Gunther.
On the eve of the departure to battle, Hagen visits Kriemhild.
She begs him to protect Siegfried, and tells him the story of her
husband's one vulnerable spot--when Siegfried had killed the
dragon, he bathed in its blood, and was rendered invulnerable,
except in one spot, where a lime leaf fell between his shoulders.
This spot the dragon blood did not touch. Kriemhild promises to
mark this spot with a silken cross, that Hagen may the better
protect her husband. The next morning the excursion against the
Saxons is withdrawn, and the heroes conclude to go on a hunting
party.
THE HUNTING AND THE DEATH OF SIEGFRIED.
Stanzas 944-958.
Gunther and Hagan, the warriors fierce and bold,
To execute their treason, resolved to scour the wold.
The bear, the boar, the wild bull, by hill or dale or fen,
To hunt with keen-edg'd javelins; what fitter sport for valiant
men?
In lordly pomp rode with them Siegfried the champion strong.
Good store of costly viands they brought with them along.
Anon by a cool runnel he lost his guiltless life.
'T was so devis'd by Brunhild, King Gunther's moody wife.
But first he sought the chamber where he his lady found.
He and his friends already had on the sumpters bound
Their gorgeous hunting raiment; they o'er the Rhine would go.
Never before was Kriemhild sunk so deep in woe.
On her mouth of roses he kiss'd his lady dear;
"God grant me, dame, returning in health to see thee here;
So may those eyes see me too; meanwhile be blithe and gay
Among thy gentle kinsmen; I must hence away."
Then thought she on the secret (the truth she durst not tell)
How she had told it Hagan; then the poor lady fell
To wailing and lamenting that ever she was born.
Then wept she without measure, sobbing and sorrow-worn.
She thus bespake her husband, "Give up that chace of thine.
I dreamt last night of evil, how two fierce forest swine
Over the heath pursued thee; the flowers turn'd bloody red.
I cannot help thus weeping; I'm chill'd with mortal dread.
I fear some secret treason, and cannot lose thee hence,
Lest malice should be borne thee from misconceiv'd offence.
Stay, my beloved Siegfried, take not my words amiss.
'T is the true love I bear thee that bids me counsel this."
"Back shall I be shortly, my own beloved mate.
Not a soul in Rhineland know I, who bears me hate.
I'm well with all thy kinsmen; they're all my firm allies;
Nor have I from any e'er deserv'd otherwise."
"Nay! do not, dearest Siegfried! 't is e'en thy death I dread.
Last night I dreamt, two mountains fell thundering on thy head,
And I no more beheld thee; if thou from me wilt go,
My heart will sure be breaking with bitterness of woe."
Round her peerless body his clasping arms he threw;
Lovingly he kiss'd her, that faithful wife and true;
Then took his leave, and parted;--in a moment all was o'er--
Living, alas poor lady! she saw him never more.
In the chase Siegfried prefers to hunt with a single limehound.
But he achieves most marvelous feats of skill and strength.
Stanzas 962-971.
All, that the limehound started, anon with mighty hand
Were slain by noble Siegfried the chief of Netherland.
No beast could there outrun him, so swift is steed could race;
He won from all high praises for mastery in the chace.
Whatever he attempted, he went the best before.
The first beast he encounter'd was a fierce half-bred boar.
Him with a mighty death-stroke he stretch'd upon the ground;
Just after in a thicket a lion huge he found.
Him the limehound started; his bow Sir Siegfried drew;
With a keen-headed arrow he shot the lion through.
But three faint bounds thereafter the dying monster made.
His wond'ring fellow-huntsmen thanks to Sir Siegfried paid.
Then one upon another a buffalo, an elk
He slew, four strong ureoxen, and last a savage shelk.
No beast, how swift soever, could leave his steed behind;
Scarcely their speed could profit the flying hart or hind
. . . . . . .
They heard then all about them, throughout those forest grounds,
Such shouting and such baying of huntsmen and of hounds,
That hill and wood re-echoed with the wild uproar.
Th' attendants had uncoupled four and twenty dogs or more.
Then full many a monster was doom'd his last to groan.
They thought with glad expectance to challenge for their own
The praise for the best hunting; but lower sunk their pride,
When to the tryst-fire shortly they saw Sir Siegfried ride.
The hunting now was over for the most part at least;
Game was brought in plenty and skins of many a beast
To the place of meeting, and laid the hearth before.
Ah! to the busy kitchen what full supplies they bore!
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The chase being done, the hunters are summoned to a feast in a
neighboring glade. Here, though they are served with a profusion
of sumptuous viands, there is, according to Hagen's plot, no wine
to drink. When, toward the end of the meal Siegfried is tormented
with thirst, Hagen tells him of a cool runnel near by under a
linden, and proposes that he and Gunther and Siegfried shall try
a race to this brook. Siegfried gaily consents, and boasts that
he will run with all his clothing and his weapons upon him.
Stanzas 1005-1029.
King Gunther and Sir Hagan to strip were nothing slow;
Both for the race stood ready in shirts as white as snow.
Long bounds, like two wild panthers o'er the grass they took,
But seen was noble Siegfried before them at the brook.
Whate'er he did, the warrior high o'er his fellows soar'd.
Now laid he down his quiver, and quick ungirt his sword.
Against the spreading linden he lean'd his mighty spear.
So by the brook stood waiting the chief without a peer.
In every lofty virtue none with Sir Siegfried vied.
Down he laid his buckler by the water's side.
For all the thirst that parch'd him, one drop he never drank
Till the king had finished; he had full evil thank.
Cool was the little runnel, and sparkled clear as glass.
O'er the rill king Gunther knelt down upon the grass.
When he his draught had taken, he rose and stepp'd aside.
Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.
Dear paid he for his courtesy; his bow, his matchless blade,
His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord convey'd,
Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear,
And to find out the token survey'd his vesture near;
Then, as to drink Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found,
He pierc'd him through the croslet, that sudden from the wound
Forth the life-blood spouted e'en o'er his murderer's weed.
Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.
Between his shoulders sticking he left the deadly spear.
Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear,
As from the matchless champion whom he had butcher'd there.
Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware,
Up he from the runnel started, as he were wood
Out from betwixt his shoulders his own hugh boar-spear stood.
He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true.
The traitor for his treason had then receiv'd his due.
But, ah! the deadly-wounded nor sword nor quiver found;
His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground.
This from the bank he lifted and straight at Hagan ran;
Him could not then by fleetness escape king Gunther's man.
E'en to the death though wounded, he hurl'd it with such power,
That the whirling buckler scatter'd wide a shower
Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke.
Full gladly had the warrior then vengeance with that stroke.
E'en as it was, his manhood fierce Hagan level'd low.
Loud, all around, the meadow rang with the wondrous blow.
Had he in hand good Balmung, the murderer he had slain.
His wound was sore upon him; he writh'd in mortal pain;
His lively colour faded; a cloud came o'er his sight:
He could stand no longer; melted all his might;
In his paling visage the mark of death he bore.
Soon many a lovely lady sorrow'd for him sore.
So the lord of Kriemhild among the flowerets fell.
From the wound fresh gushing his heart's blood fast did well.
Then thus amidst his tortures, e'en with his failing breath,
The false friends he upbraided who had contriv'd his death.
Thus spake the deadly-wounded, "Ay! cowards false as hell!
To you I still was faithful; I serv'd you long and well;
But what boots all?--for guerdon treason and death I've won.
By your friends, vile traitors! foully have you done.
Whoever shall hereafter from your loins be born,
Shall take from such vile fathers a heritage of scorn.
On me you have wreak'd malice where gratitude was due.
With shame shall you be banish'd by all good knights and true."
Thither ran all the warriors where in his blood he lay.
To many of that party sure it was a joyless day.
Whoever were true and faithful, they sorrow'd for his fall.
So much the peerless champion had merited of all.
With them the false king Gunther bewept his timeless end.
Then spake the deadly-wounded; "little it boots your friend
Yourself to plot his murder, and then the deed deplore.
Such is a shameful sorrow; better at once it were o'er."
Then spake the low'ring Hagan, "I know not why you moan.
Our cares all and suspicions are now for ever flown.
Who now are left, against us who'll dare to make defence?
Well's me, for all this weeping, that I have rid him hence."
"Small cause hast thou," said Siegfried, "to glory in my fate.
Had I ween'd thy friendship cloak'd such murderous hate,
From such as thou full lightly could I have kept my life.
Now grieve I but for Kriemhild, my dear, my widow'd wife.
. . . . . . . . .
Then further spake the dying, and speaking sigh'd full deep,
"Oh king! if thou a promise with any one wilt keep,
Let me in this last moment thy grace and favour find
For my dear love and lady, the wife I leave behind.
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