Tale the Twenty-Eighth

Now said Herwic sadly: “Ah, welaway! Woe’s me! If fair Gu-drun, my lady, my fall did lately see. Should e’er the hour be coming when I shall clasp the maiden, And as a wife shall own her, with blame and scorn shall I by her be laden.

“Sorely doth it shame me, that now the gray old man Thus has overthrown me.” Forthwith he bade again His men to raise his banner, and ’gainst King Ludwig bear it; Then rushed they on the foemen, who might not flee the fight, but all must share it.

Ludwig heard behind him an uproar loud and din; Then he turned him quickly, and Herwic sought again. Soon he heard on helmets many sword-blows stricken. Those who stood near Ludwig well might dread the wrath that both did quicken.

They sprang upon each other, and fast and well they smote; Blows on blows loud sounded the stormy field throughout. Who can tell how many now in death were lying? The day was lost to Ludwig, who there his strength with Herwic would be trying.

Soon Gu-drun’s betrothéd reached over Ludwig’s shield, And smote him ’neath his helmet; well his sword did he wield. Him he sorely wounded, and strength no more did leave him; Grim death he there awaited until King Herwic should of life bereave him.

Then Herwic with his broadsword smote the king anew; At once the head of Ludwig from off his shoulders flew. Well repaid was Herwic for his shameful overthrowing; The king lay dead before him. For this fair eyes must soon be overflowing.

Ludwig’s faithful followers, after their king was slain, His banner to the castle thought to bear again; But all too far from the gateway they had now been straying: From them the flag was taken, and death must them erelong with their lord be laying.

The watchman saw from the castle how Ludwig lost his life; Then was heard the mourning of knights and many a wife: Their king, so old and mighty, they knew in death was lying; Gu-drun and all her maidens stood in the hall in fear, and loud were crying.

As yet the Norman Hartmut, knew nothing of the tale, How that the king, his father, and kinsmen young as well, With many bravest warriors, now in death were sleeping, Then he heard from the castle the shrieks and wails of those who there were weeping.

Now the knightly Hartmut unto his followers said: “’Tis best we hence withdraw us; how many here lie dead Who in stormy fighting thought our men to be slaying! Now will we seek the castle, and there until a better time be staying.”

To him they listened gladly, and followed where he rode. Great was the work of slaughter the field around them showed, Where with grimmest foemen they were closely warring; Freely had blood been flowing beneath the hand of Hartmut and his followers daring.

“So well,” he said, “have you helped me, who my kinsmen are, That all my lands and riches gladly with you I’ll share. We now will ride to my castle, and there to rest betake us; Men the gates will open, and wine for us will pour, and mead will make us.”