How Margrave Rudeger Was Slain, I–XXXV

That morn had fought the strangers as fitted well their fame; Meanwhile fair Gotelind's husband into the courtyard came. Naught saw he there on all sides but woe and doleful drear. At the sight wept inly the faithful Rudeger.

"Woe's me," began the margrave, "That ever I was born, That none can stay the sorrows of this disastrous morn! Howe'er I long for concord, the king will ne'er agree; Woes sees he wax around him, and more has yet to see."

With that, the faithful margrave to good Sir Dietrich sent, That they might seek together to turn the king's intent. Thereto sent answer Dietrich, "The mischief who can stay? To none will now King Etzel give leave to part the fray."

Just then a Hunnish warrior observ'd the margrave true With tearful eyes there standing, as he was wont to do. The same thus said to Kriemhild, "See how he stands to-day, Whom Etzel o'er his fellows hath rais'd to power and sway,

"He who from all has service, from liegemen and from land! O'er what a crowd of castles has Rudeger command! How much the royal Etzel has giv'n him, well we know, Yet ne'er in all this battle has he struck one knightly blow.

"Methinks, of what befalls us he takes but little care, While of broad fiefs at pleasure he holds an ample share. 'Tis said, in skill and courage the margrave stands alone, But ill, I'm sure, have either here in our need been shown.

In angry mood this slander the faithful warrior took; He turn'd and on the murmurer cast a withering look. Thought he, "Thou sure shalt pay for it; thou say'st that I am cow'd; I'll show how much I fear thee: thy tale was told too loud."

At once his fist he doubled, and fiercely on him ran. Such a fearful buffet he dealt the Hunnish man, As needed not a second; dead at his feet he lay. This wrung the heart of Etzel and heighten'd his dismay.

"Away with thee, base babbler!" (thus the good margrave spake) "Here have I pain and trouble enough my heart to break, And thou, too, must revile me, as here I would not fight! These guests I should with reason have held in high despite,

"And plagued them to my utmost alike in act and thought, But that I the warriors myself had hither brought. I was their guide and conduct into my master's land; Against them ne'er can Rudeger uplift his wanderer's hand."

Then unto the margrave spake Etzel standing near, "How have you this day help'd us, right noble Rudeger! When dead in such abundance our bleeding country fill, More we nothing needed; you've done us grievous ill."

The noble knight made answer, "I own he stirr'd my mood, Twitting me with the favors (brawler coarse and rude!) That thy free hand so largely has shower'd upon me here; But his malicious tattle hath cost the liar dear."

Then came the fair Queen Kriemhild; she too had seen full well What from the hero's anger the luckless Hun befell; And she too mourn'd it deeply; with tears her eyes were wet. Thus she spake to Rudeger, "How have we ever yet

"Deserv'd, that you, good Rudeger, should make our anguish more; Now sure to me and Etzel you've promised o'er and o'er, That you both life and honor would risk to do us right. That you're the flower of knighthood, is own'd by every knight.

"Now think upon the homage that once to me you swore, When to the Rhine, good warrior, King Etzel's suit you bore, That you would serve me ever to either's dying day. Ne'er can I need so deeply, that you that vow should pay."

"Tis true, right noble lady; in this we're not at strife; I pledg'd, to do you service, my honor and my life, But my soul to hazard never did I vow. I brought the princes hither, and must not harm them now."

Said she, "Remember, Rudeger, the promise thou didst make, Thy word, thy oath remember that thou would'st vengeance take On whosoever wrong'd me, and wrong with wrong repay." Thereto replied the margrave, "I've never said you nay."

With that, to beg and pray him the king began as well; King and queen together both at his feet they fell. Then might you the good margrave have seen full ill bestead, And thus in bitterest anguish the faithful hero said.

"Woe's me the heaven-abandon'd, that I have liv'd to this! Farewell to all my honors! woe for my first amiss! My truth—my God-giv'n innocence—must they be both forgot? Woe's me, O God in heaven! that death relieves me not!

"Which part soe'er I foster, and whichsoe'er I shun, In either case forsaken is good, and evil done; But should I side with neither, all would the waverer blame. Ah! would He deign to guide me, from whom my being came!"

Still went they on imploring, the king and eke his wife, Whence many a valiant warrior soon came to lose his life By the strong hand of Rudeger, and he, too, lastly fell. So all his tale of sorrow you now shall hear me tell.

He nothing thence expected but loss and mortal teen. Fain had he giv'n denial alike to king and queen. Much fear'd the gentle margrave, if in the stern debate He slew but one Burgundian, the world would bear him hate.

With that, unto King Etzel thus spake the warrior bold, "Sir king! take back, I pray you, all that of you I hold, My fiefs, both lands and castles; let none with me remain. To distant realms, a wanderer, I'll foot it forth again.

"Thus stripp'd of all possessions I'll leave at once your land. Rather my wife and daughter I'll take in either hand, Than faithless and dishonor'd in hateful strife lie dead. Ah! to my own destruction I've ta'en your gold so red."

Thereto replied King Etzel, "Who then will succor me? My land as well as liegemen, all will I give to thee, If thou'lt revenge me, Rudeger, and smite my foemen down. High shalt thou rule with Etzel, and share his kingly crown."

Then spake the blameless margrave, "How shall I begin? To my house I bade them, as guests I took them in, Set meat and drink before them, they at my table fed, And my best gifts I gave them;—how can I strike them dead?

"The folk ween in their folly that out of fear I shrink. No! no! on former favors, on ancient bonds I think. I serv'd the noble princes, I serv'd their followers too, And knit with them the friendship, I now so deeply rue.

"I to the youthful Giselher my daughter gave of late; In all the world the maiden could find no fitter mate, True, faithful, brave, well-nurtur'd, rich, and of high degree; Young prince yet saw I never so virtue-fraught as he."

Then thus bespake him Kriemhild, "Right noble Rudeger Take pity on our anguish! thou see'st us kneeling here, The king and me, before thee; both clasp thy honor'd knees. Sure never host yet feasted such fatal guests as these."

With that, the noble margrave thus to the queen 'gan say, "Sure must the life of Rudeger for all the kindness pay, That you to me, my lady, and my lord the king have done. For this I'm doom'd to perish, and that ere set of sun.

"Full well I know, this morning, my castles and my land Both will to you fall vacant by stroke of foeman's hand, And so my wife and daughter I to your grace commend, And all at Bechlaren, each trusty homeless friend."

"Now God," replied King Etzel, "reward thee, Rudeger!" He and his queen together resum'd their lively cheer. "From us shall all thy people receive whate'er they need; Thou too, I trust, this morning thyself wilt fairly speed."

So body and soul to hazard put the blameless man. Meanwhile the wife of Etzel sorely to weep began. Said he, "My word I gave you, I'll keep it well to-day. Woe for my friends, whom Rudeger in his own despite must slay."

With that, straight from King Etzel he went with many a sigh. Soon his band of heroes found he muster'd nigh. Said he, "Up now, my warriors! don all your armor bright. I 'gainst the bold Burgundians must to my sorrow fight."

Quick his valiant followers bade their arms be brought. In a trice th' attendants shields and helms up caught, And all their glittering harness bore to their masters bold. Soon to the haughty strangers the sorry news were told.