Tale XI: How Herwic Sent to Seek Gudrun and How Hartmut Came Himself

Hartmut left his wooing / to wait for many a year.
Soon a tale was bruited / (’twas true what men did hear)
Of one whose name was Herwic, / a king as yet but youthful;
Often his worth was spoken, / and men yet speak of him with praises truthful.

He began his wooing, / trusting the lovely maid
Would take him for her lover; / long his hopes he fed,
And much he toiled to win her, / both with love and riches:
But tho’ the maid was willing, / her father, Hettel, he in vain beseeches.

Though Herwic long was striving, / and men to seek her rode,
Yet was his wooing slighted; / for this his wrath he showed.
The heart of proud young Herwic / by heavy care was fettered;
Freely his love he gave her, / and thought a life with her could not be bettered.

There came at length a morning / when it to them befell
That in the Hegeling kingdom / both knights and maids as well,
With many lovely ladies, / his coming never fearing,
Before them saw bold Hartmut; / Hettel could not believe he’d be so daring.

From this did endless evil / soon come upon the land:
These guests high-born and worthy / were yet an unknown band;
Hartmut and his kinsmen / their host’s goodwill were sharing,
And he the hope still harbored / that the maid would yet the crown with him be wearing.

Now before Queen Hilda / by ladies he was seen
To stand with lofty breeding, / and with a stately mien.
There the proud young Hartmut / wore a look so knightly,
That he the love of ladies / well might ask, and ’twould be granted rightly.

Well-grown was he in body, / fair he was and bold,
Kind as well as lordly. / Why I ne’er was told
Had Hettel and Queen Hilda / from him withheld their daughter,
When he had thought to woo her; / wroth was he to be scorned when now he sought her.

Of her his heart had longed for / he now had gained the sight;
There oft were stolen glances / between Gu-drun and the knight.
He made it known to the maiden, / by speech from others hidden,
That he was young King Hartmut, / and from the Norman land had lately ridden.

Then she told her wooer / the pain to her it gave;
And tho’ she wished he ever / a happy life might have,
Yet from her father’s kingdom / she begged him now to hasten,
For in the land of Hettel / was his life at risk, and this would never lessen.

She looked on him so kindly / that now her heart was warned
That he should stay no longer, / for here his suit was spurned.
Friendly was she to Hartmut, / who her love so wanted,
But his hopes she little heeded, / and while he wooed, not much to him she granted.

At last her well-bred lover / from Hettel’s land must go;
He bore upon his shoulders / a heavy load of woe:
To wreak his wrath on Hettel / would he now be choosing,
Yet feared he, if he harmed him, / that he the maiden’s love would then be losing.

’Twas thus the daring Hartmut / the Hegeling kingdom left;
Much he felt of sadness, / though not of hope bereft.
He knew not yet the ending / of his wooing of the maiden;
For the sake of her, thereafter, / were helmets cleft, and many sorrow-laden.

When he had reached his kingdom, / and home again did turn,
Where dwelt his father and mother, / Hartmut, grim and stern,
For war with Hettel longing, / began to make him ready.
Gerlind, the old she-devil, / at all times spurred him on with hatred steady.