Tale XXI: How Gudrun Must Wash Clothes on the Beach

Then to Gu-drun they offered / castles strong and lands:
Of these would she have nothing. / So, upon the sands,
She must wash their clothing, / from early morn till even.
Great ill this wrought for Ludwig, / when he with Herwic in the fight had striven.

First, Gu-drun was bidden / to leave her seat, that soon
She, the high-born maiden, / should go with fair Ortrun;
They bade that she be merry, / and wine with her be drinking.
The homeless wanderer answered: / “To make me queen you never need be thinking.

“Well you wot, Lord Hartmut, / whate’er your wish may be,
Betrothed am I to another, / and am no longer free.
That I one day shall wed him / has with an oath been plighted;
Until by death he’s taken / I will not wed with any man e’er knighted.”

Then spake the lordly Hartmut: / “You only waste your breath;
By nought shall we be sundered / unless it shall be death.
In friendship with my sister / you should now be living;
Your hardships she will lighten, / and will, I know, her love to you be giving.”

Fain to think was Hartmut / that her unyielding mood
Might now by this be softened; / he hoped, whatever good
Should e’er befall his sister, / the maiden would be sharing:
Thus for both he trusted, / that a happy life erelong would them be cheering.

Gu-drun soon greeted kindly / many a friend and maid.
Ortrun sat beside her; / her hue grew rosy-red
With eating and with drinking, / ere many days were ended.
Enough was always ready: / still the poor girl her mood ne’er wisely mended.

If Hartmut thought to greet her, / and spoke in friendly mood,
How little did it cheer her! / She o’er her woes did brood,
That she and all her maidens / in a far-off land were bearing.
Soon, against young Hartmut, / of harsh and angry words she was not sparing.

So long a time this lasted, / the king at length was wroth;
He said: “Gu-drun, fair lady, / as good am I in birth
As is the young King Herwic, / who now you think is fitter
Than I to be your lover: / too much you jeer at me, with words most bitter.

“If you would leave your sorrow, / for both of us ’twere gain.
It wounds me out of measure / when any gives you pain,
Or seeks your heart to burden, / or in your wish to cross you:
Though now you are unfriendly, / to be my queen I yet would gladly choose you.”

Then young Hartmut left her, / and straight his men he sought.
He bade them to be watchful / of ills that threatened aught,
And well to guard his kingdom; / for he the while bethought him,
So sorely was he hated, / ’twas much to fear some harm would yet be wrought him.

The cross and wicked Gerlind / for her hard tasks did set;
She on a seat but seldom / any rest did get.
Erst ’mong princes’ daughters / men were wont to greet her,
As for her was rightful; / now with the scorned and lowly they must meet her.

To her, in mood unfriendly, / the old she-wolf then spake:
“Now Queen Hilda’s daughter / I a drudge will make;
Although her evil feelings / seem so strong and steady,
We yet shall see her toiling / as ne’er before to do has she been ready.”

Then said the high-born maiden: / “To work with all my might,
With hand and heart, I’m willing; / in this, both day and night,
Will I be always busy, / and every hour be striving;
Since ill-luck begrudges / that I among my friends should now be living.”

The wicked Gerlind answered: / “Now daily to the beach
You my clothes must carry, / there on the sands to bleach.
You must for me and my maidens / be washing and be drying;
And that no one find you idle, / your work with care you ever must be plying.”

Then spake the high-born maiden: / “Wife of a mighty king,
If they will only teach me / the way to wash and wring,
And how to cleanse your clothing, / to do it I am willing.
Bliss no more I look for; / still greater woe my heart must yet be filling.

“Bid them now to teach me, / and I will gladly learn;
So high I do not hold me / that I the task should spurn.
Thus shall I be earning / the food I here am eating;
Nought I say against it.” / The poor Gu-drun her lot was wisely meeting.

Then by a washerwoman / clothes to the sands were brought,
And how to wash and dry them / the maiden now was taught.
Much at first she sorrowed, / and by the work was flurried,
Yet was she spared by no one. / So was the fair Gu-drun by Gerlind worried.

Before King Ludwig’s castle, / she gained a skilful hand;
For knights who there were dwelling / within the Norman land,
None could be more helpful, / their clothing better washing.
Loudly mourned her maidens / to see her toiling where the waves were dashing.

One there was among them / who was also a great king’s child;
The wailing of the others / was to hers a whisper mild.
This work so mean and lowly / went to their hearts too nearly,
As they saw the high-born lady / drudging on the shore, both late and early.

Then with love true-hearted / Hildeburg made moan:
“Well we all must rue it— / to God may this be known—
Who in this Norman kingdom / erst with Gu-drun were landing;
No rest ought we to hope for / while on the sea-beach washing she is standing.”

This was heard by Gerlind, / who in anger spoke:
“If on the toils of your lady / with such ill-will you look,
The work shall you be doing, / and her place be filling.”
“That would I do right gladly,” / said Hildeburg, “if only you were willing.

“For the love of God Almighty, / Gerlind, my lady queen,
Let not this great king’s daughter / toiling alone be seen:
A crown, too, wore my father, / yet work would I be doing;
Let me with her stand washing, / whatever good or ill we may be knowing.

“It fills my heart with sorrow, / I feel her woes my own.
Once the greatest honor / to her by God was shown:
Her forefathers and kindred / were kings, and none were higher;
Though now her work is lowly, / to toil with the maiden I shall never tire.”

Then said the wicked Gerlind: / “This oft will bring you pain;
However hard the winter, / still in snow and rain
My clothes must you be washing, / altho’ cold winds are blowing;
So will you be wishing / that you the warmth of heated rooms were knowing.”

Unwillingly she waited / until the night drew near;
From this Gu-drun the high-born / gained at last some cheer.
Then into her bedroom / went Hildeburg in sorrow;
There they wept together / for the work that they must do upon the morrow.

Then the Lady Hildeburg / said to her in tears:
“The woes that you are bearing / my heart with you now shares;
I begged the old she-devil / no more alone to leave you
Upon the sea-sands washing; / with you I’ll bear the burden, and my help will give you.”

The homeless maiden answered: / “May Christ your love reward,
That you with so much sorrow / of all my woes have heard.
If we may wash together, / the days will be the brighter,
And time will seem far shorter, / and on our hearts the shame will weigh the lighter.”

Soon as her wish was granted, / down to the sandy shore
The clothing then she carried, / gladness to know no more.
There must they wash in sorrow, / whatever was the weather;
Whate’er was done by others, / yet still these two must wash and toil together.

When her throng of handmaidens / had time from work to spare,
Bitter was their weeping, / to see her standing there
Upon the sea-sands washing. / Loud were their moans and many,
Nor did their sorrow lessen; / greater woe was never known by any.

Long the toiling lasted,— / that is true enough;
There must they be working / full five years and a half.
Clothes for Hartmut’s followers / they must wash and whiten:
Ne’er were maidens sadder; / their toils before the castle nought could lighten.