The Lay of the Nibelung Men

Of Kriemhild, and of her Dream

Many a marvellous story have the ancient singers told Of heroes and their glory and their travail manifold, Of great feasts splendour-flashing that with weeping and wailing ended, Of the thunder of war-waves clashing—in the Lay shall ye hear all blended.

In the Land Burgundian nurtured was a maiden princely of birth; Though ye searched, ye should find none fairer to the uttermost ends of the earth; And her name far-sung was Kriemhild, she was sweeter than speech may tell. Ah, many a valiant champion in battle for her sake fell! There was no man whose pride had warded his breast against love's dart Shot from the eyes victorious, from the snare of many a heart: She was lovely beyond all measure that speech or thought may find, Yea, queenly withal and gracious, a glory of womankind.

Three high-born Kings and wealthy guarded and held her dear; Gunther and Gernot, heroes in prowess without a peer, And Giselher the youngest, unmatched in foughten field: Their sister was she and their glory, and her sword were they and her shield. Lords were they of noble lineage, and of courtesy the crown, And their aweless might was matchless, and limitless their renown; And over the Land Burgundian they stretched the sceptred hand, Ere the strange, grim end of their story was told in Etzel's land.

In the City of Worms by the Rhine-flood these Kings in their might abode, And the best in the whole land served them, the proudest knights that rode, With glory of homage served them through their life's triumphant tide— Till the day when in woeful battle through the Feud of the Queens they died. And the mother that bare them was Uta, and the treasures of queens were hers, And their father the old king Dankart, and he made them heritors Of his realm in the hour of his dying, a champion mighty of old, Who in days of his youth reaped harvest of glory manifold.

As the tale of their goodlihead telleth, such kings were they, these three, Strong, fearless lords; and the vassals that bent before them the knee Were the best of all of whose doings their songs have the minstrels made, Stalwart and aweless of spirit, in battle unafraid. For these were Hagen of Troneg, and Dankwart his brother withal The battle-eager, and Ortwein the warder of Metz's wall; And with these stood Gere and Eckwart, lords of the marches twain, And Volker the Knight Alsatian, the name without a stain; And Rumold the feast-arrayer, a worship-worthy lord; Sindold and Hunold, which ever kept heedful watch and ward For the state of the palace royal, that all should be ordered well; And with these were there knightly vassals whose tale no bard may tell. Dankwart was their palace-marshal, and beside the feastful board Waited his nephew Ortwein, of Metz was he overlord; And Sindold bare them the wine-cup, a goodly baron he; And Hunold was chamberlain, perfect in utterest courtesy. But of all their palace-splendour, and their might renowned afar, And the majesty of their worship, and their knightly deeds of war, And the joy that the kingly heroes therein had all their days— No minstrel hath wholly told it, no harp sung all their praise.

Now it fell, in the midst of their glory, that a dream unto Kriemhild appeared: A strong, fair, tameless falcon in a bower of dreams she reared. But before her eyes two eagles swooped upon him and slew— Never a bitterer sorrow the heart of the maiden knew!

So she told to her mother the vision; but from Lady Uta's eyes Was it hid, that she could not interpret the dream save in halting wise: "The falcon reared in thy dream-bower, a princely husband is this— Now God from evil defend him, else swift dark doom shall be his!" "What is this that thou talkest of husbands, heart's dearest, mother, to me? In the net of love untangled will I for ever be. Unto my death in the beauty of maidenhood I will abide, That I taste not the manifold sorrows that from love of man betide." But she answered: "Not wholly renounce it, for thy vow hath been spoken amiss: For if ever on earth thou knowest a heart full-brimmed with bliss, Of the love of a man shall this come; and a fair and happy bride Shalt thou be, if a noble baron by God's grace stand by thy side." "Let be, let be vain talking, heart's dearest, mother mine. In many a wife's repentance have I read the warning sign, How love hath sorrow for guerdon when the end of its journey is won:— I will none of love nor of sorrow, I abide in my bliss alone."

So Kriemhild in pride of her spirit was a rebel to Lord Love's sway; And her heart-peace flowed as a river through many a sunlit day; And she looked upon earls and champions, but none might the heart of her move: Yet her hour drew near, and the breaking of the glory-dawn of love. For in flight even now was the Falcon, the fulfilment drew nigh and nigher Of the dream half read of her mother—but woe for the vengeance-hire That she paid to the eagles that slew him, her own blood-brethren they! Woe for the sons of women untold whom his death should slay!

Of the Fostering and the Knighting of Siegfried

Now grew unto man in the Low Land the child of a line world-famed. For Siegmund the King begat him, his mother was Siegelind named, In a tower-engirdled stronghold renowned through the earth afar, Where the Rhine and the sea meet: Xanten men named that burg of war.

Now telleth the tale of a hero, how fair and stately he grew, How the shield of his heart was honour, nor taint of shame he knew, How shone the star of his glory, how strong was that fearless lord:— Ho for the harvest of honour that earth's field gave to his sword! And his far-sung name was Siegfried, the name of a noble Knight; And he proved in his strength great-hearted full many a champion's might, And through many a strange land cleft he a path by his own right hand:— Ho for the fiery warriors he found in Burgundia-land!

(C) Or ever this valiant champion to man was fully grown, By deeds of such marvellous prowess had the might of his hands been shown That the minstrel's voice and the harpstrings rang ever with his praise: Not a tithe thereof is remembered in these the latter days. But the noontide of his glory, but the spring of his goodlihead— How marvelled the world at his story, what things were of Siegfried said, How bloomed as a bower his honour, how goodly he was to behold, How dreamed of his love fair women, how their eyes the heart's dream told! As beseems that a hero be fostered was he nurtured with diligent heed; But his own heart still was a wellspring of faith and of knightly deed, That by him was the land of his father as with gold of a diadem crowned, For in all the deeds of kingfolk all-kingly was he found. And by this so great was he waxen that to halls of kings must he fare: Glad-faced did the earls look on him, and dame and damsel there Sore longed to behold him wending thitherward evermore, And their eyes unto his shone welcome, and he knew the love they bore. Ever that child of princes rode girt by a henchman-ring, And in lovely-woven raiment of his mother's fashioning; And the wise and the lessoned in honour must teach him their lore, as one For whom there waited a kingdom and a nation's heart to be won. So waxed he to strength of manhood, till sword and shield he swayed, And in goodliest harness of battle were his mighty limbs arrayed. Then his thoughts after fair dream-faces of maids flew questing wide— And O for the bliss and the honour of her that should be his bride!

Then sent King Siegmund the bidding-word to his vassals all, And to all friends loyal-hearted, for a high-tide festival; And the tale thereof into kingdoms of other lords they bare With gifts for the friend and the stranger, even steeds and raiment fair. Wheresoever a strong young warrior high-born longed sore for the day That should bring to him knighthood's golden spurs, all such bade they To come to the land of Siegmund, to Siegfried's festal tide, To be girt with the sword of knighthood, standing by Siegfried's side. Long shall men sing of the wonder of that crown of festal days, How Siegmund and Siegelind won them the treasure-giver's praise For the gifts of cost uncounted that they gave with stintless hand, How the rumour thereof drew strangers from afar into Siegmund's land. Came thither squires four hundred in knighthood's vesture to be Arrayed with the young prince Siegfried; and maidens comely to see Sat fashioning goodly raiment, and their love with the threads was enwound, As they laid the priceless gemstones thereon with the gold set round, As their broidery-work on the robe-hems gleamed fair in coil on coil For the strong young knights high-hearted—they were worthy the love-sped toil.

And the King bade dight the high-seats for the guests, for the thanes of pride, At the feast of the knighting of Siegfried in the heart of the summer-tide. Then fared they on to the minster, young squires of high degree And noble knights full many; and in proud humility Did the elder serve the younger, by the law that from old time came. On their lips was mirth and laughter, in their eyes the hope of fame. When they chanted the Mass to the honour of God in the highest height, The mighty throngs surged inward to gaze on that gallant sight, When after the ancient custom those squires with spur and brand Were arrayed, and with honour never since seen in any land. Then hasted they where harnessed were the steeds abiding their lords: Then rose in the lists of Siegmund the clash of spears and swords: Then the halls of the palace re-echoed, as in joyous combat they crashed, When the mighty-hearted champions forth to the onset flashed.

From old knight and young warrior the clash and the clang rose high: The splintered spear-shafts flying leapt up to the laughing sky, The shards of the lances upsoaring to the roof of the palace-hall. And the earls and the high-born ladies sat throned beholding all. Then the King bade stay the combat, and they led the war-steeds thence, From the field wide-strewn with the strong shields, the brave heart's rifted fence, Strewn with the costly gemstones wherewith was the grass bestarred From the glittering shield-bands fallen in the grapple bitter-hard. Then sat those guests in the feast-hall in their own ordained high-seats; And the war-toil's ache was banished like a dream by the goodly meats And the wines of noble vintage that flowed as a fountain free. There homeland guest and stranger had honour plenteously. In gentle sports and joyous had they worn the long day out; And now the song of the minstrels through the feast-hall went about; And their singing had goodly guerdon of the ever-bounteous hand, And their praise was a crown of glory upon all King Siegmund's land. Then the King bade Siegfried deliver in fee to his vassals true Broad lands and stately castles, as himself had been wont to do. And he gave with hand ungrudging to his fellows of the sword, That their hearts were glad for his presence, for their coming thitherward.

So the feast sped on and the mirth-tide, till they saw the seventh sun rise; And all in the olden fashion did the Queen give gifts of price; Red gold for the love of Siegfried, and in Siegfried's name she gave. That to him as the giver of bounty the hearts of all men clave. Not a wandering bard thereafter in need in the land abode: Steeds, raiment on these were showered as though with gifts it snowed, As though there should come no morrow, and men's lives lack nothing more: Never were palace-stewards that lavished so of their store. So filled with the winning of honour that feast-tide fleeted by, That whiles one heard the earl-folk each unto other cry: "Well were we if but Prince Siegfried in his father's stead were our lord!" But a grief unto him was their longing, and his true heart loathed the word.

While endured the days of Siegmund and Siegelind, their son Siegfried, the loved and the loving, would in no wise sit on the throne. But he yearned in his fearless spirit to break the oppressor's yoke, And to rid of the fear of the spoiler the hearth of the lowly folk. (C) No man might make him a mocking: since first the sword he drew, The praise of the brave was his lodestar; but little rest he knew: Ever he wooed war-perils, and his battle-triumphant hand Bare the banner of his glory through many a far-off land.

How Siegfried rode to the City of Worms

Not often the heart of the hero had ache or sorrow known, Till the tidings came of a fair-one on a wind of rumour blown. Fair past all heart's desiring was the Star of Burgundy— She was doomed to be joy and anguish unto him in the days to be! With the fame of her glorious beauty there flew forth far and wide The tale of the queenly spirit, of the heart of tameless pride; And the souls of princely champions were set on fire of the word, That from lands afar to the guest-hall of Gunther the King they spurred. But for all the love of the wooers, and their burning words thereof, No whit were Kriemhild's heart-strings once swept by the finger of love, That she deigned to take of them any for the love of her life and her king. In a strange land yet was her Falcon with the victory in his wing.

When borne down love's dream-river was the heart of Siegelind's son, As an idle wind was the wooing of all save him alone. Above all men was Siegfried worthy the chosen of women to wed:— Now soon to the fair shall the fearless by the hand of love be led. Then his friends took thought for Siegfried, and the wise in council met, When they knew the heart of the hero on the love of woman set.

"Seek her for thy bride," they counselled, "whose birth shall shame not thee." Answered the prince: "None other than Kriemhild this shall be! Lo, she is a great king's daughter, and the Star of Burgundia she is, And she is the Queen of Beauty, and my heart knoweth certainly this— Never Kaiser nor King is so mighty, but, if he would choose him a bride, Kriemhild, the glory of women, for him were a crown of pride."

Then was told the tale of his purpose unto Siegmund the ancient King, For his people brought him the tidings, and so was he ware of the thing Whereunto was his son's mind steadfast; and the King was sore afraid For the peril of Siegfried's wooing of the haughty-hearted maid. Yea also the selfsame rumour did the lady Siegelind hear; And her heart was exceeding heavy with a burden of sorrow and fear; For she wotted how grim was Gunther and the earls of his war-array: And they laboured to turn Prince Siegfried from the perilous quest away. Then answered the aweless Siegfried: "Heart's dearest, father mine, Never to love of woman shall the soul of me incline, Except I may woo untrammelled where love leads forth mine heart!" And never, for all their pleading, would he from the word depart. "If thus thou abide unshaken," the King made answer again, "Know thou, of thine high-wrought purpose my soul is exceeding fain; And with heart and hand will I aid thee to the uttermost of my might. Yet mid King Gunther's vassals is many a haughty knight: Yea, had he none other than Hagen the stalwart to stand at his side, That champion is so uplifted with overweening pride, That I fear, I fear me sorely lest his malice bring us to bane If we woo that high-born maiden, the Lady of Disdain." "Shall the pride of the haughty thwart us?" hot-hearted Siegfried cried. "If they mock at the speech of friendship, if I be with scorn denied, Then will I do my wooing with the strength of mine own right hand; Yea, I will wrest from the proud ones their vassals and their land!" Then answered and spake King Siegmund: "Woe's me for this word of thine! For if haply this thy defiance should be told by the waters of Rhine,

Never couldst thou thereafter to the land of Gunther ride;— Long time have I known them, Gunther and Gernot, the children of pride. By violence may no man win her, that the maiden should stoop to his love," Spake Siegmund the King, "assurance most utter have I thereof. Yet if thou with a host of warriors wouldst thitherward spur the steed, Lo, all our battle-helpers shall with thee into Rhineland speed." "Now nay, it shall nowise please me," the son of Siegmund said, "That a host of knights into Rhineland by my banner should be led Arrayed in the ranks of battle; for my sorrow should it be To constrain that daughter of princes to yield her love unto me. I will woo her alone, unholpen of aught but mine own right hand: With none save with twelve companions will I unto Gunther's land. Thus far and no further, my father, mine emprise shall ye aid, That my knights be in bright-hued vesture and grey furs costly arrayed."

Unto Siegelind his mother were the tidings borne anon, And the queen brake forth into weeping for her well-beloved son: "If he meet the hosts of Gunther, he is lost unto me!" she said. Then wept that daughter of princes as women weep for the dead. But Siegfried the knight beheld her weeping, and came to her side With speech of loving comfort, and blithe of heart he cried: "Nought hast thou to do with weeping, dear lady and queen, for my sake. Though a host should arise against me, mine heart should in no wise quake. Nay, help me thou on my journey when to Burgundy I fare, And for me and my war-fellows fashion such goodly raiment to wear As shall be for the praise and the honour of knights so gallant as they; And so shall mine heart go singing its thanks unto thee alway." "If in sooth thou abidest unshaken," the lady Siegelind said, "Then, O my child, my beloved, of me shall thy journey be sped; For the costliest raiment and fairest that ever good knight wore Shall ye have, even thou and thy war-thanes, an exceeding plenteous store." Then lowly in thanks he bent him, Siegfried the fair and young; And he spake: "For my journeying-fellows shall I take no mighty throng,