How Siegfried Was Slain, XXXVI–LXX

In his state how lordly thither he came along! Huge was his mighty boar-spear, weighty and broad and strong; To his spur descended the good sword that he wore; Of ruddy gold fair glittering a hunting horn he bore.

Of better hunting-vesture never heard I tell. His coat of darkest samite became the warrior well. His cap of richest sable sat with a careless grace, And his death-fraught quiver was bound with many a lace.

With the skin of a panther the same was cover'd o'er For its balmy sweetness; a strong bow too he bore, Which none but with a windlass could draw, howe'er he strove, Unless himself was present at the mark to rove.

All his outer garment was of a lynx's hide, From head to foot with cunning 'twas speckled all and pied. On either side descending of the master-hunter bold From the rich fur there glitter'd many a bright thread of gold.

Girded he was with Balmung, a broad and mighty blade, With such keen cutting edges, that straight its way it made Where'er it smote on helmet, and thousands did to die. 'Sooth was the lordly hunter of bearing proud and high.

Besides (of this my story to tell you every part) Fraught was his splendid quiver with many a dreary dart; The shaft of each was gilded, a hand's-breadth was the steel. 'Twas death of those grim arrows a single wound to feel.

So stately from the forest rode on the noble knights; The men of Gunther mark'd him soon as he came in sight, And ran, and held his courser, and gave him tendance fair. Meanwhile close to the saddle lay bound the groaning bear.

The knight, from horse alighting, soft the band untied That bound his paws and muzzle; straight when the bear they spied, All the pack of yelpers open'd on him loud. The beast made for the forest, scattering the startled crowd.

Scared by the din and uproar he through the kitchen rac'd. Ah! how the cooks and scullions from round the fire he chas'd! Upset were pans and kettles, and store of savory hashes, Roast, boil'd, and stew'd together were hissing in the ashes.

From their seats upstarted the lords and all the band; The bear flew into fury; straight gave the king command The hounds to uncouple, and slip them on the prey. Had it all thus ended, it had been a merry day.

With bows and mighty boar-spears (no more was quiet there) Upsprung the light-foot warriors and chas'd the flying bear. The dogs there were so many, none dar'd a dart to fling. With shouting and hallooing they made the mountains ring.

Before the dogs he scamper'd; they follow'd where he led; But 'twas the swift-foot Siegfried that caught him as he fled. Once with his sword he smote him; he wallow'd in his gore. Back to the scatter'd tryst-fire his friends the monster bore.

Loud shouted each beholder that 'twas a matchless blow. Now the high-born hunters were bidden to table go. Down in a flowery meadow sat they right merrily. Ah! what dainty viands cheer'd that proud company!

Still delay'd the attendants the ruddy wine to pour. Never else were warriors better serv'd before. But for the heinous treason with which they fram'd their plot, All that choice band of champions were free from blame or blot.

Then said the noble Siegfried, "I needs must wonder here, That joyous wine is wanting with such abundant cheer. When so o'erflows the kitchen, how is't the cellar's dry? Treat merry hunters better, or hunt no more will I.

"I have deserv'd in Rhineland more hospitable care." Then answering from the table spoke Gunther false and fair. "This fault shall soon be mended, and reason done you first. For this we may thank Hagan, who makes us die of thirst."

Then said the Chief of Trony, "My lord and master dear, I thought that this day's hunting was not to be held here, But in the wood of Spessart, so thither sent the wine. The like shall never happen again by fault of mine."

Then said the Netherlander, "Little thank I such care. I look'd for seven good sumpters to mend our thirsty fare With mead and wine of spices; if so we could not dine, Better by far have placed us close beside the Rhine."

Then spake the Chief of Trony, "Ye noble knights and bold, I know just to our wishes a runnel clear and cold Close by, so be not angry, but thither let us go." Th' advice brought many a champion sorrow and mortal woe.

Yet could not then his danger the death-doom'd hero spy. Little thought he so foully by seeming friends to die. His heart knew naught of falsehood; 'twas open, frank and plain. For his death dear paid thereafter who fondly hop'd to gain.

The noble knight Sir Siegfried with thirst was sore opprest, So earlier rose from table, and could no longer rest, But straight would to the mountain the running brook to find, And so advanc'd the treason his faithless foes design'd.

Meanwhile were slowly lifted on many a groaning wain The beasts in that wild forest by Siegfried's manhood slain. Each witness gave him honor, and loud his praises spoke. Alas! that with him Hagan his faith so foully broke.

Now when to the broad linden they all would take their way, Thus spake the fraudful Hagan, "Full oft have I heard say, That none a match in swiftness for Kriemhild's lord can be, Whene'er to race he pleases; would he grant us this to see?"

Then spake the Netherlander, Siegfried with open heart, "Well then! let's make the trial! together we will start From hence to yonder runnel; let us at once begin, And he shall pass for winner who shall be seen to win."

"Agreed!" said treacherous Hagan, "let us each other try." Thereto rejoin'd stout Siegfried, "And if you pass me by, Down at your feet I'll lay me humbled on the grass." When these words heard Gunther, what joy could his surpass?

Then said the fearless champion, "And this I tell you more, I'll carry all th' equipment that in the chase I wore, My spear, my shield, my vesture—leave will I nothing out." His sword then and his quiver he girt him quick about.

King Gunther and Sir Hagan to strip were nothing slow; Both for the race stood ready in shirts as white as snow. Long bounds, like two wild panthers, o'er the grass they took, But seen was noble Siegfried before them at the brook.

Whate'er he did, the warrior high o'er his fellows soar'd. Now laid he down his quiver, and quick ungirt his sword. Against the spreading linden he lean'd his mighty spear. So by the brook stood waiting the chief without a peer.

In every lofty virtue none with Sir Siegfried vied. Down he laid his buckler by the water's side. For all the thirst that parch'd him, one drop he never drank Till the king had finish'd; he had full evil thank.

Cool was the little runnel, and sparkled clear as glass. O'er the rill King Gunther knelt down upon the grass. When he his draught had taken he rose and stepp'd aside. Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.

Dear paid he for his courtesy; his bow, his matchless blade, His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord convey'd, Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear, And to find out the token survey'd his vesture near;

Then, as to drink Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found, He pierc'd him through the crosslet, that sudden from the wound Forth the life-blood spouted e'en o'er his murderer's weed. Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.

Between his shoulders sticking he left the deadly spear. Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear, As from the matchless champion whom he had butcher'd there. Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware,

Up he from the runnel started as he were wood. Out from betwixt his shoulders his own huge boar-spear stood. He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true. The traitor for his treason had then receiv'd his due.

But, ah! the deadly wounded nor sword nor quiver found; His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground. This from the bank he lifted and straight at Hagan ran; Him could not then by fleetness escape King Gunther's man.