Then a certain man of the Hunfolk saw Rüdiger making dole

Then a certain man of the Hunfolk saw Rüdiger making dole With weeping eyes; for long time had he stood there bitter of soul. And spake to the Queen that scorner: "Behold him idly stand Whom Etzel and thou have exalted above all else in the land! Lordships he hath and vassals; to him all minister. Wherefore be castles so many committed to Rüdiger, Those stately towers that he holdeth now of the King our Lord? No knightly blow hath he stricken in this war-storm with his sword. Meseemeth he recketh little what here unto us may betide, So himself be full of substance and his greed be satisfied. Men vaunt him a champion braver than any in all our array: Little enow hath he proved it in this our evil day!"

In sorrow and wrath the hero, the man of the loyal heart, Glared on the Hunnish mocker who hurled that slander-dart. He thought: "For this thou payest! A craven am I, saidst thou? In the presence of kings too loudly hast thou told thy story now!" He clenched his fist in his anger; full on the scoffer he ran, And with such might resistless he smote that Hunnish man, That down to the earth he dashed him, and dead at his feet did he lie. But the sorrow of King Etzel was made but the more thereby. "Away with thee, vile caitiff!" did the good knight Rüdiger cry. "Trouble enow and anguish of soul before had I! What hast thou to do to taunt me that here I have struck no blow? Of a truth to hate yon strangers reason have I enow. Yea, now were I striving against them to the uttermost of my might, Were it not that I was escort hither to prince and knight. Yea, it was I that convoyed them to my lord Etzel's land; Therefore I may not against them uplift my wretched hand." Then to the Lord of the Marches did Etzel the great King say: "Rüdiger, noble hero, how hast thou helped us to-day? Good sooth, in the land have perished more than enough of my folk: No more murders are needed! Thou hast stricken an evil stroke."

But the noble knight made answer: "He angered my spirit sore; For he taunted me with mine honours and my wealth's unstinted store, With the gifts that with hand ungrudging thou hast heaped upon me, O King! Of a truth to the reckless liar was his scoff an evil thing!"

Drew nigh that Daughter of Princes, which also had seen it done, That deed which the hero's anger had wrought on the hapless Hun. Bitterly did she lament it, many a tear she shed; And unto Rüdiger spake she: "Wherein have we merited That to me and the King yet further thou shouldst multiply sorrow and pain? Thou hast, O Rüdiger, promised unto us, yea, once and again, That thou wouldst venture thine honour, yea, and thy life for us. Oft have I heard knights yield thee the prize of the valorous. Of the oath-plight now I remind thee that thou swarest by thy right hand, When, chosen of knights, thou didst woo me to be queen of Etzel's land, That thou wouldst render me service even to our life's end. Never—ah me all-hapless!—had I such need of a friend!"

"O Queen, no whit I deny it, an oath unto thee did I take That my life and my very honour I would venture for thy sake. But to peril my soul's salvation!—that have I never sworn. It was I that brought to this high-tide those princes nobly-born." "Rüdiger," said she, "bethink thee of that thy plighted troth, How that in all mine affliction—thou didst promise and seal it by oath— Aye wouldst thou be mine avenger, in my wrongs wouldst stand by my side." Made answer the Lord of the Marches: "Never yet hath my word been belied!"

Then did the great King Etzel set him withal to entreat; And they knelt in supplication, they twain, at the hero's feet. Then was the noble Margrave 'neath a burden of sorrow bowed, And the loyal knight in anguish of spirit cried aloud: "Woe's me, the God-forsaken, that I live to see this day! All my manhood's honour must I now cast away,

All loyal faith God-given, and all my knightly renown! Ah God in Heaven, why rather may death not smite me down? Which deed soever I turn from, to take the other on me, I play the part of a traitor, I act all evilly. Though I take the part of neither, still will the world cry shame. Oh that He now would guide me, from whose fashioning hands I came!"

They hung upon him so sorely, the King and Kriemhild his wife, That doomed was many a warrior to cast away his life By Rüdiger's right hand smitten, yea, the hero's self must die. Now hearken ye to the story of the woe he won thereby. Well knew he that scathe and sorrow unmixed should be all his gain. Of a truth unto Etzel and Kriemhild had he denied full fain Herein to fulfil their pleasure. A dark thought haunted his breast, That the world would hold him accursèd if he slew one single guest.

Then spake once more unto Etzel that hero battle-bold: "Lord King, take back, I pray thee, all things that of thee I hold, My lordships and my castles—I will keep nor wealth nor lands. Forth on my feet into exile will I fare with empty hands. (C) Stripped bare of all my possessions thy land will I leave—to be free! Only my wife and my daughter will I lead by the hand with me. I choose this, rather than passing to meet death perjured-souled. In an evil hour to thy service did I bind me to earn thy gold!" But answer made King Etzel: "Who then shall mine helper be? Behold, thy land and thy vassals, all these I committed to thee To the end that thou mightest avenge me on whoso should do me despite. Do this, and next unto Etzel shalt thou reign in kingly might."

But Rüdiger made answer: "How can I do this thing? Unto mine house I bade them with friendly welcoming, With meats and with drinks love-lavished their feast did I array, And I gave to them gifts at parting—shall I fall on them now and slay?

What if the world misdeem me, and say that Rüdiger quailed? At the least in all true service to them have I never failed. If now I should fall upon them, that were a deed most vile. I should sorely rue the friendship knit up with these erewhile. I gave to wife my daughter unto Giselher the thane: On earth no worthier bridegroom for my dear child could I gain, Nor in knightly spirit nor honour, nor in faith, nor in this world's good. Never was prince thus youthful so chivalrous of mood."

But again made answer Kriemhild: "O Rüdiger, noble chief, Think also on us; have pity on all our wrongs and our grief, Upon mine and my Lord King Etzel's; yea, ponder well thereon. No host in the wide world ever more pestilent guests hath won." Thereat unto Queen Kriemhild did the Lord of the Marches say: "His life must be rendered in payment by Rüdiger this day For all the kindness showed me of thee and my Lord the King. For this must I die: remaineth no space for lingering. This day I know of a surety my castles and my land Shall be yielded up, shall be wrested from me by a foeman's hand. I commit to your lovingkindness my wife and my fatherless child, And all mine household abiding in Bechlaren's halls exiled." "Now God reward thee," answered the King, "O Rüdiger!"— Even he and the Lady Kriemhild, so glad at heart they were— "The care of all thy people as a solemn trust we receive. Yet, as I hope salvation, I look that thyself shalt live."

So did he set on the hazard both soul and mortal life. And now brake forth into weeping Kriemhild, Etzel's wife. But he said: "I must keep unbroken the oath that I sware unto thee. Alas for you, friends! Sad-hearted I become your enemy!" So from King Etzel's presence he departed heavy of cheer; And he looked, and behold, his warriors to their lord had now drawn near. And he cried: "Ye must forthwith arm you, all ye my faithful ones. Woe's me, I must needs do battle with Burgundia's valiant sons!"

Straightway his warriors shouted, "Ho, bring my battle-gear!" Then here might ye see a helmet, and a massy buckler here Across the court borne swiftly by the squires for their lords to don. Too soon were the evil tidings to the haughty strangers known!

Now Rüdiger stood full-armoured, with his five hundred men: Twelve knights of Etzel's war-band joined them withal to him then: They thirsted to win them glory in the storm of the battle-strain— But they knew not the end of the story, nor that death should be all their gain. Strode forward under helmet the Lord of the Marches there. Battle-glaives keen-whetted the knights of Rüdiger bare: Each man gripped by the arm-brace a broad shield burnished bright; And the viol-minstrel beheld them, and his heart sank down at the sight.

And behold, his fair bride's father young Giselher saw come, On his gallant head his helmet:—what should he divine therefrom As touching the warrior's purpose, but the help of a loyal ally? And his soul went out to meet him, his heart with joy beat high. "Thank God for such true friendship," in gladness the young Prince cried, "As we won for our help in trouble, when we rode unto this high-tide! Now unto us deliverance for my young bride's sake draws nigh. By my faith, my heart rejoiceth that wedded to her am I!" "On a broken reed thou leanest," the viol-minstrel said. "When sawest thou heroes so many with helmet laced on head Draw near for reconcilement, and with swords made bare in the hand? Against us he cometh, to render service for castles and land."

Or ever the viol-minstrel had fully spoken the word, In front of the great hall-portal men saw that noble lord. He set his goodly buckler on the earth before his feet, And he looked on the friends he could help not, on the faces he might not greet. Then cried the noble Margrave to the hall, a cry of woe: "O dauntless men of the Niblungs, now guard you against a foe!

Ye ought to have had mine helping—that debt will never be paid! We were friends close-knit by troth-plight—to my troth am I renegade!" Then sorely aghast at his saying were the warriors hard-bestead. Their joy for his coming withered, and hope at the birth fell dead. This friend must battle against them, he whom they loved was their foe! From their enemies had they suffered travail and hurt enow.

"Now God in Heaven forbid it," Gunther the knightly cried, "That this thy friendship to usward so utterly be belied, And the trust wherewith we trusted in our own familiar friend! Nay, but I will not believe it, that all this so shall end!" "For me there is no returning," the valiant warrior spake. "With you I must needs do battle, even for mine oath's sake. Now stand on your guard, brave heroes, by all your love of life! From mine oath will she not release me, this King Etzel's wife."

"Too late," the King made answer, "thy love dost thou forswear. Now God on high reward thee, thou noble Rüdiger, For the faith and the lovingkindness that thou hast shown us still, So thou to the end maintain it, and all thy pledge fulfil. Unto thee will we aye be beholden for the gifts that thou didst give, Even I and my friends, so thou leave us unharmed of thee to live, For the sake of the gifts most princely whereby our trust was won When to Etzel's land thou didst bring us. O Rüdiger, think thereon!" "How gladly this would I grant you," the good thane Rüdiger said, "How gladly lavish upon you the gifts of my bountihead, So much as my soul desireth—how gladly do all this, And no serpent-tongue of slander against my name should hiss!"

"Ah Rüdiger, refrain thee!" Prince Gernot pleaded yet. "Never a host before thee with kindlier welcome met Guests, nor with mien so gracious, as we were greeted of thee; And for this, if we win hence living, requited shalt thou be."

"Would God, O noble Gernot," in anguish Rüdiger said, "That ye were again in Rhineland, and that I were lying dead With mine honour still unsullied, since I cannot but fall on thee! Never were heroes entreated of friends so evilly!" "Lord Rüdiger, God reward thee," again did Gernot reply, "For the gifts of thy princely bounty! Distressed for thy death am I, In that all that chivalrous spirit should be doomed to perish with thee. Lo here that sword which thou gavest, O noble thane, unto me. Not once this steel hath failed me through this distressful tide; Beneath its undulled edges hath many a hero died: A lordly blade and a goodly, stubborn it is and bright. Of a truth, such royal bounty was never bestowed of knight. Yet, if thou wilt nowise refrain thee, but wilt raise against us thine hand, If thou slaughter these my kinsmen which here beside me stand, Then with thine own good war-glaive I needs must take thy life. Wherefore for thee I sorrow, and for thy noble wife." "May God vouchsafe it, Gernot, and may it so befall, That in all things as thou desirest, so may it be, yea, in all, And that thou and all thy kinsfolk in life may long endure! In you should the trust of the widow and my fatherless child be sure."

Spake Giselher, son of Uta, the Prince of Burgundy: "How canst thou so, Lord Margrave? These which have come with me, Unto thee are they all love-bounden. An ill deed dost thou essay! Thy daughter by thee shall be widowed, who scarce is a bride this day. If thou and thy battle-helpers beset me now in fight, What treason unto friendship should this be in all men's sight, For that beyond all other in thee did I confide In the hour wherein I won me thy daughter to be my bride!" "Ah, think thou on thy troth-plight!" spake Rüdiger answering; "And if God shall bring you safely forth hence, O noble king, Requite not thou on my daughter the sin of Rüdiger. By all thy princely honour, be gracious unto her!"

"It were meet that I held to the troth-plight," young Giselher replied; "Yet, if mine high-born kinsmen who stand in the hall at my side, If these by thy deed shall perish, snapped is the twofold chain, The love 'twixt me and thy daughter, and the friendship 'twixt us twain."

"Then God have mercy upon us!" so did the hero groan. Then his men uplifted their bucklers, and now were at point to set on Against those guests, to grapple in fight in Kriemhild's hall:— But suddenly from the stair-head aloud did Hagen call: "For a little space yet tarry, O Rüdiger, noble heart!" Said Hagen; "once more commune we, ere the links of friendship part, With thee, even I and my masters, in our sore extremity. What profit is this unto Etzel, that here the homeless die? Myself am in grievous trouble," furthermore Hagen spake: "The shield that the Lady Gotlind gave me to bear for her sake, Even this in the strife with the Hunfolk was in fragments hewn from mine hand; A memorial of thy kindness I brought it to Etzel's land. Now would that God in Heaven would grant to me this one prayer, That such a trusty buckler even I might also bear As that which is on thy shoulder, O Rüdiger, noble knight! Then, though I had not a hauberk, I were fenced in the storm of the fight." "How gladly to thee would I render my shield for thy battle-screen, If I dared unto thine hand give it in presence of Kriemhild the Queen!— Yet take it, O take it, Hagen, and grip it thou with thine hand. Ah, that thou mightest but bear it back to Burgundia-land!"

When that warrior noble-hearted so freely gave his shield, Red grew the eyes of heroes many, with hot tears filled. That was his last gift—never again, till time shall end, Will Rüdiger of Bechlaren give aught to guest or friend. How stern soever was Hagen, and unused to the melting mood, Yet thrilled with ruth was his spirit for the gift which the hero who stood Now on the very grave-brink so freely gave unto him. Mourned many a high-born warrior, and their eyes with tears were dim.