How Margrave Rudeger Was Slain, LXXI–CII

"For me, most noble margrave! you must a message bear; These bracelets red were given me late by your lady fair, To wear at this high festal before the royal Hun. View them thyself, and tell her that I've her bidding done."

"Ah! might it please th' Almighty," Sir Rudeger replied, "That the margravine hereafter should give you more beside! Yet doubt not, noble Folker, I'll bear this message fain To my true love and lady, if e'er we meet again."

So promis'd gentle Rudeger, nor longer dallied yet; Up his shield he lifted, and forward fiercely set. He leapt on the Burgundians like a prowest knight; Many a swift stroke among them he struck to left and right.

Sir Folker and Sir Hagan both from him further stepp'd According to their promise which faithfully they kept, But at the stairs were standing warriors so bold and stout, That Rudeger the battle began with anxious doubt.

King Gunther and Sir Gernot in let him force his way To take his life the surer; stern knights and fierce were they. Young Giselher kept his distance; e'en yet he look'd for life, So spar'd, though half unwilling, the father of his wife.

Forward the margrave's warriors leapt with fierce intent; In their master's footsteps manfully they went. Sharp-cutting blades they brandish'd as in close fight they strove, And shiver'd many a buckler, and many a morion clove.

The guests, though faint and weary, dealt many a storm-swift blow At those of Bechlaren, that deep and smooth did go To flesh and bone and inward through links of iron weed. They wrought in that stern struggle full many a doughty deed.

The noble train of Rudeger now in had enter'd all. Folker at once and Hagan leapt on them in the hall, Nor quarter gave to any, but to that single man. The blood beneath their broadswords down through the helmets ran.

What a fearful clatter of clashing blades there rang! From shields beneath the buffets how the plates they sprang, And precious stones unnumber'd rain'd down into the gore. They fought so fell and furious as man will never more.

The Lord of Bechlaren went slashing here and there, As one who well in battle knew how himself to bear. Well prov'd the noble Rudeger in that day's bloody fight, That never handled weapon a more redoubted knight.

On the other side the slaughter Gunther and Gernot led; They smote in that grim conflict full many a hero dead; Giselher and Dankwart, little of aught reck'd they; Full many a prowest champion they brought to his last day.

Well prov'd the fiery margrave his strength and courage too, His weapon and his harness;—ah! what a host he slew! That saw a bold Burgundian; his passion mounted high. Alas for noble Rudeger! e'en then his death drew nigh.

Loud o'er the din of battle stout Gernot shouted then, "How now, right noble Rudeger? not one of all my men Thou'lt leave me here unwounded; in sooth it grieves me sore To see my friends thus slaughter'd; bear it can I no more.

"Now must thy gift too surely the giver harm to-day, Since of my friends so many thy strength has swept away. So turn about, and face me, thou bold and high-born man! Thy goodly gift to merit, I'll do the best I can."

Ere through the press the margrave could come Sir Gerno nigh, Full many a glittering mailcoat was stain'd a bloody die. Then those fame-greedy champions each fierce on th' other leapt, And deadly wounds at distance with wary ward they kept.

So sharp were both their broadswords, resistless was their dint; Sudden the good Sir Rudeger through th' helmet hard as flint So struck the noble Gernot, that forth the blood it broke; With death the stern Burgundian repaid the deadly stroke.

He heav'd the gift of Rudeger with both his hands on high, And, to the death though wounded, a stroke at him let fly Right through both shield and morion; deep was the gash and wide. At once the lord of Gotelind beneath the swordcut died.

In sooth a gift so goodly was worse requited ne'er, Down dead dropp'd both together, Gernot and Rudeger, Each slain by th' other's manhood, then prov'd, alas! too well. Thereat first Sir Hagan furious wax'd and fell.

Then cried the knight of Trony, "Sure we with ill are cross'd; Their country and their people in both these chiefs have lost More than they'll e'er recover;—woe worth this fatal day! We have here the margrave's meiny, and they for all shall pay."

All struck at one another, none would a foeman spare. Full many a one, unwounded, down was smitten there, Who else might have 'scap'd harmless, but now, though whole and sound, In the thick press was trampled, or in the blood was drown'd.

"Alas! my luckless brother who here in death lies low! How every hour I'm living brings some fresh tale of woe! And ever must I sorrow for the good margrave too. On both sides dire destruction and mortal ills we rue."

Soon as the youthful Giselher beheld his brother dead, Who yet within were lingering by sudden doom were sped. Death, his pale meiny choosing, dealt each his dreary dole. Of those of Bechlaren 'scap'd not one living soul.

King Gunther and young Giselher, and fearless Hagan, too, Dankwart as well as Folker, the noble knights and true, Went where they found together out-stretch'd the valiant twain. There wept th' assembled warriors in anguish o'er the slain.

"Death fearfully despoils us," said youthful Giselher, "But now give over wailing, and haste to th' open air To cool our heated hauberks, faint as we are with strife. God, methinks, no longer will here vouchsafe us life."

This sitting, that reclining, was seen full many a knight; They took repose in quiet; around (a fearful sight!) Lay Rudeger's dead comrades; all was hush'd and still; From that long dreary silence King Etzel augur'd ill.

"Alas for this half friendship!" thus Kriemhild frowning spake, "If it were true and steadfast, Sir Rudeger would take Vengeance wide and sweeping on yonder murderous band; Now back he'll bring them safely to their Burgundian land.

"What boot our gifts, King Etzel? Was it, my lord, for this We gave him all he ask'd us? The chief has done amiss. He who should have reveng'd us will now a treaty make." Thereto in answer Folker, the gallant minstrel, spake.

"Not so the truth is, lady! the more the pity, too! If one the lie might venture to give a dame like you, Most foully 'gainst the margrave you've lied, right noble queen! Sore trick'd in that same treaty he and his men have been.

"With such good-will the margrave his king's commands obey'd, That he and all his meiny dead on this floor are laid. Now look about you, Kriemhild! for servants seek anew; Well were you serv'd by Rudeger; he to the death was true.

"The fact, if still you're doubting, before your eyes we'll bring." 'Twas done e'en of set purpose her heart the more to wring. They brought the mangled margrave, where Etzel saw him well. Th' assembled knights of Hungary such utter anguish ne'er befell.

When thus held high before them they saw the margrave dead, Sure by the choicest writer could ne'er be penn'd nor said The woful burst of wailing from woman and eke from man, That from the heart's deep sorrow to strike all ears began.

Above his weeping people King Etzel sorrow'd sore; His deep-voiced wail resounded loud as the lion's roar In the night-shaded desert; the like did Kriemhild too; They mourn'd in heart for Rudeger, the valiant and the true.