How the Knights Went to Church, XXXVI–LXX

Then spake the noble minstrel Folker with scornful glance, "These knights, methinks, will never confront us lance to lance. I hear it loudly rumor'd they bear us mortal spite; Surely can they never find better time to fight.

"So let us to our quarters," the fearless warrior cried, "Send hence our weary horses; back we can hither ride, If there be time, toward evening; 'twere fitter then than now; What if to us Burgundians the queen should praise allow?"

Just then there rode so proudly into the lists a Hun, That so no knight among them the general gaze had won. Perchance e'en then in secret for some fair maid he sigh'd. He wore as rich apparel as any noble bride.

At once outspake Sir Folker, "I needs must spoil his cheer; Yonder ladies' darling must feel a push of spear. No one shall prevent it—let him guard his life. I reck not, though it kindle the wrath of Etzel's wife."

"No! as you love me, Folker," straight the king 'gan say, "The people all will blame us if we commence the fray. Let the Huns begin it: 'twere better so, I ween." Still was King Etzel sitting beside his moody queen.

"I'll join you in the tourney," fierce Hagan sternly cried; "Let's show both knights and ladies how we Burgundians ride. 'Twere well, by proof they knew it; they'd rate us higher then. Now they deny all credit to good King Gunther's men."

Back into the tourney swift Folker hotly spurr'd; Thereby was many a lady to grievous sorrow stirr'd. Right through that proud Hun's body he drove the griding spear. That stroke both dames and damsels cost many a bitter tear.

That saw at once Sir Hagan, nor dallying there abode; With sixty of his champions, all thundering as they rode, 'Gainst th' Huns he hotly hurtled fast by the gleeman's side. King Etzel and Queen Kriemhild the tourney closely eyed.

Nor would the three kings basely in dastard sloth repose, And leave the minstrel aidless among unnumber'd foes, With them came to the rescue a thousand warriors good; Haughty and overweening they did whate'er they would.

Soon as by Sir Folker the wealthy Hun was slain, You might hear his kinsmen cry out and loudly plain. All in a breath were asking, "Who has this outrage done?" "Folker the bold minstrel," gave answer many a one.

Straight for swords and bucklers were calling all the band Akin to the young margrave of the Hunnish land; The fearless minstrel Folker they thought at once to slay. The host down from a window took in haste his way.

From the Huns on all sides a cry arose amain. Before the hall alighted the kings and all their train. Every bold Burgundian sent his steed away; Up in haste came Etzel and parted straight the fray.

He found one of the kinsmen with his sword drawn in his hand; From him in an instant he snatch'd the naked brand, And beat the brawlers backward, chafing and raging sore. "In sooth with these good warriors my favor all were o'er,"

Said Etzel, "If among us this minstrel here ye slew; 'Twas by mere misadventure he ran your kinsman through. I had my eye upon him just as he struck the blow. It was his steed that stumbled; 'twas heaven would have it so.

"Then leave my friends in quiet, and from the tilt-yard speed." Himself then gave them escort; meanwhile each battle-steed Was led thence to their quarters, for those Burgurdian guests Had many a zealous varlet to tend their high behests.

Then with his friends King Etzel into his palace went; He bade all cease from anger, and calm'd their fierce intent. Ready were set the tables; for all was water brought. The lives of the Burgundians many a stout foeman sought.

However irk'd it Etzel, still many an armed knight Press'd close behind the princes, e'en in the king's despite, Lowering with hateful glances as they to table went, Each to revenge his kinsman on those proud strangers bent.

"'Tis an ill use," said Etzel, "and one I scarce can bear, At the feastful table the weeds of war to wear. But whosoe'er his vengeance on these my guests shall wreak, His head shall pay the forfeit; this to you Huns I speak."

'Twas long before was seated every lordly guest. Fell care and deep disquiet wrung Kriemhild's laboring breast. "Prince of Bern," she murmur'd, "thy counsel, aid and grace I seek in sore affliction; pity my mournful case."

Then answer'd her Sir Hildebrand, a warrior frank and free, "Who'd slay the Nibelungers shall have no help from me, No, not for countless treasure; th' attempt he well may rue; The good knights ne'er were conquer'd, with whom he'll have to do."

Said she, "Yet surely Hagan has done me cruel wrong; He murder'd my beloved, the strongest of the strong. Who'd lure him from the others, should have my gold for meed. 'Twould inly discontent me should one but Hagan bleed."

Then answer'd Master Hildebrand, "How can that ever be? Slay him among his fellows? Why surely you must see, That, if we strike at Hagan, to battle straight will all, And rich and poor together must in one slaughter fall."

Then in his courteous fashion thereto Sir Dietrich spake, "Great queen, this talk give over, and better counsel take. Me never wrong'd your kinsmen, nor is there cause that I Should warriors, whom I value, to mortal strife defy.

"It does you little honor, the simple truth to say, Against your trusting kinsmen such deadly plots to lay. 'Twas under a safe-conduct they enter'd Etzel's land. Revenge for Siegfried never expect from Dietrich's hand."

When she no spark of treason found in the Berner brave, Of a wide march to Blœdel the promise straight she gave. It once belong'd to Nudung; a gift 'twas for a queen; Yet a stroke of Dankwart's made him forget it quite and clean.

"To give me help, Sir Blœdel," said she, "the task be thine; Harbor'd within this palace are mortal foes of mine, The same, who my dear husband Sir Siegfried did to die; Who helps me to revenge it, to him for ever bound am I."

Thus answer'd her Sir Blœdel, "Lady, to truth give ear; I dare not wreak your vengeance, for Etzel's wrath I fear. He's glad to see your kinsmen and all their vassals throng, And never would forgive me if I should do them wrong."

"Nay, say not so, Sir Blœdel, I'll stand thy friend at need; Silver and gold in plenty I'll give thee for thy meed, Besides a beauteous damsel, whom Nudung had to wife. Lapp'd in her soft caresses thou'lt lead a loving life.

"The lands and eke the castles to thee I'll freely give; So may'st thou, noble warrior, with joy for ever live, If thou but win the lordships where Nudung once held sway. I'll truly keep the promise I've given you here to-day."

No sooner heard Sir Blœdel of such a guerdon tell, Beside that for her beauty the lady pleas'd him well, Than he resolv'd by battle to win the lovely bride. He miss'd, alas! the damsel, and lost his life besides.

He thus bespake Queen Kriemhild, "To th' hall back haste away; Ere one can take precaution, I'll stir a bloody fray. Hagan, who sow'd in murder, shall reap a harvest meet. I'll bring the man of Gunther in fetters to your feet.

"Now arm ye straight," said Blœdel, "my merry men one and all! Hence to the strangers' quarters upon our foes to fall. So wills our royal lady, King Etzel's noble wife. Ye heroes! at her bidding each boldly risk his life."

When Kriemhild thus found Blœdel to work her will intent, And eager to do battle, to table straight she went With the redoubted Etzel and eke with all his train, Against the guests from Rhineland fell counsel had she ta'en.

How they went all to table, I now at full must say. First went the king attended, crown'd and in rich array; Many a proud prince behind them, many a good knight was seen, And all display'd their courtship before the noble queen.

The good host at the tables found place for every guest; He seated close beside him the highest and the best. The Christian knights and heathen there feasted nothing loath. Their food indeed was different, but there was store for both.