Tale XXV: How Herwic and Ortwin Found Gudrun

After they long had waited, / now saw these washers lone
Two in a boat fast nearing; / others were there none.
Then said the maiden, Hildeburg, / unto Gu-drun, the lady:
“These two are sailing hither; / perhaps the friends sent here are come already.”

She, full of sorrow, answered: / “Ah, woe is me, poor maid!
Although, in truth I’m happy, / I yet am also sad.
If at the seaside washing / Queen Hilda’s men shall see us,
Standing thus barefooted, / we from the shame of this can never free us.

“A poor, unhappy woman, / I know not what to do:
Hildeburg, my dearest, / your mind now let me know;
To hide me were it better, / or shall I stay to shame me
When they shall find me toiling? / Rather would I that they a drudge should name me.”

Then said the maiden Hildeburg: / “E’en how it stands you see;
A thing that is so weighty / you should not leave to me,
Whate’er you think the better, / your choice will I be sharing;
With you I’ll stay forever, / both good, and ill together with you bearing.”

Then from the water turning, / both fled away in haste;
But now the boat of the sailors / had neared the land so fast,
They saw the lovely washers, / away from the seashore hieing,
And at once bethought them / that they for shame away from the clothes were flying.

They called unto the maidens, / as they sprang upon the beach:
“Whither so fast are you fleeing, / fair washers, we beseech?
We are far-off wanderers, / as well our looks are showing;
Your linen may be stolen, / if you leave it here, and from us in haste are going.”

They kept their way still swiftly, / as if they heard it not:
But yet the boisterous shouting / had reached their ears, I wot.
The bold and knightly Herwic / too roughly bade them hear him,
For he not yet mistrusted / ’twas his betrothed that now he saw so near him.

Cried Herwic, lord of Sealand: / “Maidens fair and young,
Tell us now, we pray you, / to whom these clothes belong.
We ask you in all honor, / by the faith to maidens owing,
Most fair and lovely ladies, / that back to the shore you will again be going.”

Gu-drun, the maid, then answered: / “It were a shame, forsooth,
Since to the trust of woman / you give your pledge in truth,
Were I of this unworthy, / nor faith in you were showing:
To the shore we back will hasten, / although my eyes with tears are overflowing.”

They, in their smocks, came nearer; / both with the sea were wet.
Before that time, the maidens / were always clean and neat;
Now the wretched drudges / with cold and frost were quaking;
Little of late had they eaten, / and with the March-like winds were chilled and shaking.

The time had come already / for snows to melt away,
And, with each other vying, / the little birds, each day,
Again their songs would warble, / as soon as March was ended;
But in the snow, and ice-cold, / the maids were found forlorn, and unbefriended.

Stiff were their locks and frosted, / when they now drew near;
However well and carefully / they had smoothed their hair,
It now was tossed and tumbled / by the wind so wildly blowing:
Hard bestead were the maidens, / toiling there, whether it rained or was snowing.

The ice was loose and broken, / floating everywhere
Upon the sea before them. / The maids were filled with care;
Pale were now their bodies, / e’en as the snow around them,
By their scanty clothes scarce hidden. / Sad was the lot in which the knights had found them.

Then the high-born Herwic / a kind “Good-morning” bade
To the sad and homeless maidens; / of this sore need they had,
For oft their keeper, Gerlind, / had them with harshness taunted.
To hear “Good-morning,” “Good-evening,” / was now to the maids but very seldom granted.

Then said the youthful Ortwin: / “I beg you say to me
To whom belongs this clothing, / that on the sands I see?
For whom are you here washing? / You both are so comely showing,
Who can this shame have done you? / May God bring low the man such outrage doing!

“So fair are you and lovely, / you well might wear the crown;
If all that is your birthright / you now could call your own,
You would, in truth, be worthy / to be with ladies seated.
Has he for whom you are toiling / more such washers fair so foully treated?”

To him the lovely maiden / in greatest sorrow spoke:
“Many he hath beside us / who fairer still do look.
All that you list now ask us; / yet, with eye unsleeping,
One from the leads doth watch us, / who ne’er will forgive the talk with you we’re keeping.”

“Be not at this uneasy, / but deign our gold to take,
And with it these four arm-bands. / These your reward we make,
If you, most lovely ladies, / of speech will not be wary;
To you we give them gladly, / if of the truth we seek you be not chary.”

“God leave to you your arm-bands, / albeit you we thank;
Nought for hire may you give us,” / quoth the lady high in rank.
“Ask what you will, but quickly, / for we must hence be going;
If we were seen here with you, / nothing but sorrow should we then be knowing.”

“We beg you first to tell us / who this land doth own?
Whose are the castles also? / By what name is he known
Who leaves you without clothing, / low tasks upon you laying?
He may of his worth be boastful; / that he doeth well no man may now be saying.”

To him Gu-drun thus answered: / “Hartmut is one of the lords
To whom these lands owe fealty. / His castles well he guards,
With Ludwig, king of the Normans, / who is Hartmut’s father:
And many knightly vassals, / to keep their lands from foes, they round them gather.”

“Gladly would we see them,” / said Ortwin, the friendly knight;
“Happy were I, fair lady, / if we could learn aright
Where, within their kingdom, / we might those kings be meeting,
We bring to them an errand; / as henchmen of a king, we bear his greeting.”

Gu-drun, the high-born lady, / thus to the warrior spake:
“This very morning early, / ere yet they were awake,
I left them in their castle; / in their beds they slumbered.
I know not if thence they have ridden: / their men, I think, full forty hundred numbered.”

Again King Herwic asked her: / “To us yet further tell,
Why is it such brave princes / in fear like this should dwell,
That they so many warriors / always should be needing?
Had I that band of fighters, / to gain a kingdom I would them be leading.”

To him Gu-drun thus answered: / “Of that we nothing know;
And where their lands are lying, / that neither can we show:
But from the Hegeling kingdom, / although it is not near them,
They fear that harm awaits them / from foes who soon may come, who hatred bear them.”

Trembling, cold, and shivering, / the maids before them stood;
Then the knightly Herwic / spake, in kindly mood:
“I would, most lovely ladies, / if we might be so daring,
And if no shame it gave you, / that on the shore our cloaks you would be wearing.”

Hilda’s daughter answered: / “May God your kindness bless;
We cannot take your mantles, / but we thank you none the less.
No eye shall ever see me / manly clothing wearing.”
If only the maidens knew it, / much greater ills would they yet be often bearing.

Oft the eyes of Herwic / did on the maiden rest;
To him she seemed most comely, / and her bearing was the best.
For all her heavy sorrows / sighs in his heart were wakened;
And to one erst thought of kindly, / from him long taken, he the maiden likened.

Then spake again young Ortwin, / who was of Ortland king:
“Can either of you ladies / tidings whatever bring
Of a band of homeless maidens / who to this land were carried?
Gu-drun was one among them, / and gladly would we learn where she has tarried.”

To him the maiden answered: / “To me is that well known;
A maiden throng came hither / in days now long bygone:
They to this far-off kingdom / by fighters bold were taken;
And full of heavy sorrow / came these maids forlorn, of hope forsaken.

“The maid whom you are seeking / I know,” she said, “full well;
I here have seen her toiling, / this for a truth I tell.”
She was herself the maiden / who was by Hartmut stolen,
Gu-drun, Queen Hilda’s daughter, / and all she told had erst herself befallen.

Then spake the knightly Herwic: / “Ortwin, list to me:
If fair Gu-drun, your sister, / yet alive may be,
In any land whatever, / for us on earth still watching,
This must be that lady; / ne’er have I seen two maids so nearly matching.”

To him then said young Ortwin: / “The maid in truth is fair,
But to my long-lost sister / no likeness doth she bear.
The days are not forgotten / when we were young together;
Should I rove the whole world over, / so fair as she I ne’er could find another.”

When now Gu-drun, who listened, / heard the name of the man,
That his friend did call him Ortwin, / she looked at him again:
For she indeed were happy / if she were thus befriended,
And found in him a brother, / for then her cares were o’er and her sorrows ended.

“However they may call you, / a worthy knight are you:
A man in all things like you / in days of yore I knew;
The name of Herwic bore he, / in Sealand was his dwelling.
If that brave knight were living, / to loose us from our bonds he were not failing.

“I am one of the maidens / whom Hartmut’s warriors stole,
And bore across the waters, / in thraldom sorrowful.
Gu-drun you here are seeking, / but need not thus have hasted;
The queenly Hegeling maiden / at last is dead, with toil and hardship wasted.”

The eyes of Ortwin glistened, / filling fast with tears;
Nor was it without weeping / that now King Herwic hears
The tidings to them given,— / that fair Gu-drun, their lady,
From them by death was taken; / at this their heavy hearts to break were ready.

When both, before her weeping, / were seen by the homeless maid,
With eyes upon them fastened, / thus to them she said:
“It seems to me most likely, / by the mood that you are wearing,
That to Gu-drun, the maiden, / you worthy knights are love and kinship bearing.”

To her young Herwic answered: / “Yes, for the maid, forsooth,
I shall pine till life be ended; / to me she gave her troth,
And to me, in wedlock plighted, / with faithful oaths was given:
Since then, by the craft of Ludwig, / her have I lost, by him from her birthland riven.”

Then said the sorrowing maiden: / “Your words would me mislead,
For men have often told me / that Herwic long is dead.
No bliss on earth were greater, / that God to me were granting,
Could I learn that he is living; / a friend to lead me hence were then not wanting.”

Then said the knightly Herwic: / “Upon my hand now look;
Know you this ring I am wearing? / Mine is the name you spoke;
With this were we betrothéd: / to Gu-drun I am faithful ever,
And if you were my loved one, / I would lead you hence, and would forsake you never.”

Upon his hand then looking, / a ring there met her sight,
Set with a stone from Abalie, / in gold that glittered bright;
Never her eyes had rested / on one more rich or fairer.
Gu-drun, the queenly maiden, / of this same ring had whilom been the wearer.

The happy maiden, smiling, / with words her bliss did show:
“Of this I once was owner, / and well the ring I know.
Look upon this I am wearing; / ’twas the gift of my early lover,
While I, a gladsome maiden, / still dwelt at home, nor stepped its borders over.”

He, on her hand now gazing, / upon the ring did look;
Then unto the maiden / the knightly Herwic spoke:
“That a queenly mother bore thee, / I see by many a token;
After my heavy sorrows, / a blessed sight upon my eyes has broken.”

Then in his arms he folded / the fair and high-born maid:
For all they told each other / they were both glad and sad.
He kissed the maiden fondly, / how oft I cannot reckon;
So, too, he greeted Hildeburg, / showing his love to both the maids forsaken.

Then the youthful Ortwin / begged the maid to say
Whether to do her task-work / there was no other way
Than, standing by the seaside, / all day to wash the clothing?
At this she greatly sorrowed, / and felt for her work the deepest shame and loathing.

“Tell me now, fair sister, / where may your children be
Whom you have borne to Hartmut, / in his land across the sea,
That all alone on the seashore / to wash they thus allow you?
If here a queen they call you, / the name you bear but little good can do you.”

Shedding tears, she answered: / “How should I have a child?
No love could Hartmut kindle, / that I to him should yield;
And well do all men know it / who near him here are dwelling.
Because I would not love him / I now must toil, and woe my heart is swelling.”

Then spake the knightly Herwic: / “We now can truly say
That we good luck have met with, / on our errand far away;
And nought could have befallen / that for us were better.
It behooves us now to hasten / to free the maid from the ills that here beset her.”

Then said the knight, young Ortwin: / “That may never be.
Had I a hundred sisters, / I would sooner let them die
Than here, in another’s kingdom, / to hide a deed of plunder;
Stealing those from our foemen / whom they by stormy fight from us did sunder.”

Then spake the lord of Sealand: / “This do I greatly fear,
Should our search be known to any, / or if they find us here,
They then may take the maiden, / and her far hence may carry,
And never shall we see her: / ’twere best to hide the deed, nor longer tarry.”

Him did Ortwin answer: / “How can we leave in need
Her faithful band of maidens? / So long a stay they’ve made
Here in this land of foemen / that well may they be weary:
Gu-drun, my worthy sister, / should ne’er forsake her maids, in bondage dreary.”

To him then spake brave Herwic: / “Is this in truth your mind?
Ne’er shall my well-belovéd / be left by me behind;
To take the ladies with us, / e’en as we can, ’tis better.”
Him did Ortwin answer: / “Here to be hacked with the sword for me were fitter.”

Then said the downcast maiden: / “What have I done to thee,
My dearest brother Ortwin? / Never as yet in me
Was seen such ill-behavior / that I for that was chidden.
For what great sin I know not / am I, my lord, to make atonement bidden?”

“I do not thus, dear sister, / for want of love to thee;
Thereby your band of maidens / I shall the better free.
Only as fits my honor, / hence will I ever take you;
Herwic for your lover / you yet shall have, and ne’er will he forsake you.”

Gu-drun was heavy-hearted / as they went on board the boat;
She said: “Woe worth my wanderings! / my sorrow endeth not.
He whom once I trusted, / must hope in him be shaken
That he will break my bondage? / My bliss is yet far off, and my faith mistaken.”

In haste the daring warriors / turned from the shore away.
Gu-drun, the maid, heart-broken, / to Herwic called to stay:
“Of me you once thought highly, / but now you hold me lightly:
To whom, in my woe, do you leave me? / Bereft of kin, to whom can I trust me rightly?”

“I do not hold you lightly; / you are of maids the best.
My coming, queenly lady, / hide within your breast;
Again, ere morning lightens, / these shores will I be treading,—
For this my troth I pledge you,— / eighty thousand followers with me leading.”

As fast as they were able / they hastened then away;
Never friends were sundered / more sadly than that day
Were these from one another; / (the truth to you I’m telling.)
As far as their eyes could follow, / the maidens watched the boat away fast sailing.

Gu-drun, the queenly maiden, / her washing now forgot;
Betwixt her bliss and sorrow, / her toil she heeded not.
The harsh and wicked Gerlind, / the idle women spying
Standing by the seashore, / in anger stormed, that her clothes unwashed were lying.

Then said the maiden Hildeburg, / from Ireland, o’er the sea:
“Why do you let the clothing / here uncared for be?
The clothes of Ludwig’s followers / still unwashed are waiting.
If this be known to Gerlind, / yet harder blows from her shall we be getting.”

Queen Hilda’s daughter answered: / “Too proud I am, I ween,
That for the wicked Gerlind / I e’er should wash again.
Henceforth a toil so lowly / in scorn shall I be holding,
For two young kings have kissed me, / they in kindness me in their arms enfolding.”

Then Hildeburg made answer: / “Scorn not that I should teach
Or that I now would show you / how best the clothes to bleach:
We must not leave them yellow, / but carefully must whiten;
Else do I greatly fear me / our backs with blows and stripes will well be beaten.”

Then said old Hagen’s grandchild: / “At last my lot is bright,
With hope and gladness beaming. / If they my back shall smite
With rods, from now till morning, / I trow it will not kill me;
But soon shall those who wronged us / know themselves the ills they chose to deal me.

“These clothes I should be washing / down to the tide I’ll bear,
And fling them into the water,” / said the maiden fair;
“Their freedom I will give them, / even as ’tis fitting
That I, a queen, should do it; / hence they may float away, no hindrance meeting.”

Whate’er was said by Hildeburg, / Gu-drun the clothes then took,
That Gerlind her had given; / her task she would not brook,
But far into the billows / she threw them, strongly hurling:
I know not if ever she found them; / they soon were lost to sight, in the waters swirling.

The night was drawing nearer, / and the light began to wane;
To the castle, heavy-laden, / went Hildeburg again.
Seven robes of finest linen / she bore, with other clothing;
Gu-drun, young Ortwin’s sister, / with Hildeburg went also, bearing nothing.

When they had reached the castle, / the time was very late.
Before King Ludwig’s palace, / standing at the gate,
They saw the wicked Gerlind, / watching there to meet them:
Soon as she saw the washers, / with words of bitter scorn she ’gan to greet them.

Thus she spake in anger: / “What does this gadding mean?
Stripes upon your bodies / you both have earned, I ween,
Thus upon the seashore, / in the evening light, to wander;
For me it were unseemly / into my room to take you, after loitering yonder.”

She said: “Now tell me quickly, / think you this is meet?
You spurn the greatest princes, / and show them nought but hate,
But linger yet, at nightfall, / with low-born varlets flirting.
Would you be thought of highly, / know you that this your own good name is hurting.”

The well-born maiden answered: / “Why speak of me so ill?
Never have I, poor maiden, / had the thought or will
With any man to tattle, / however dear I held him,
Unless it were a kinsman; / a talk with him I rightfully might yield him.”

“Say you I chide you wrongly? / Hush, you idle jade!
For this, to-night, I tell you, / a reckoning shall be made.
To be so bold and shameless / you then will dare no longer;
Before with you I’ve ended, / your back shall feel that I than you am stronger.”

“In that will I gainsay you,” / said then the maiden proud;
“Again with rods to beat me / you ne’er shall be allowed.
You and all your kindred / in birth are far below me;
You may yet for this be sorry, / if treatment so unseemly you shall show me.”

Then spake the wolfish Gerlind: / “Where is my clothing left,
That, folded in your apron, / you thus your hands have wrapt;
Bearing yourself so idly, / now from toil thus turning?
If I live a little longer, / another kind of work shall you be learning.”

King Hagen’s grandchild answered: / “Down by the deep sea-flood
I left your clothing lying. / It was too great a load;
I found the weight too heavy, / alone to the house to carry.
If never again you see them, / but little I care, the while with you I tarry.”

Then quoth the old she-devil: / “All this shall help you not;
Before I sleep this evening, / bitter shall be your lot!”
Then were tied, at her bidding, / rods from hedges broken;
Gerlind would not give over / the training hard ’gainst which the maid had spoken.

Then strongly to a bedstead / she bade them bind the maid,
And alone in a room to leave her, / where not a friend she had:
There should she be beaten, / till skin from bone was falling.
When this was known to her women, / they all began to weep, and loud were wailing.

Then spake Gu-drun, with cunning: / “Now list to what I say:
If I with rods am beaten / thus shamefully to-day,
Should e’er an eye behold me / with kings and princes seated,
And I a crown be wearing, / to you a fit reward shall then be meted.

“Henceforth for me such teaching / ’twere best you let alone;
Sooner the king I’ve slighted / shall have me for his own:
Then as queen of Normandy / here will I be dwelling;
And when I here am mighty, / what I will do may no one now be telling.”

“Be this your will,” said Gerlind, / “angry no more I’ll be:
E’en if a thousand garments / you thus had lost for me,
I would, in truth, forgive it; / well you will have thriven
If to my son, young Hartmut, / the Norman prince, your love at last be given.”

Then said the lovely maiden: / “I now would take some rest;
This care and heavy sorrow / my strength doth sorely waste.
Send for the young King Hartmut, / bid him be hither speeding,
And say, whate’er he wishes, / that I henceforth will always do his bidding.”

Those who heard them talking, / straightway to Hartmut ran,
And to the youthful warrior / told the tale again.
Some of his father’s liegemen / there with him were seated,
When word to him was given / in haste to seek Gu-drun, who for him waited.

Then said the one who told him: / “Give me now my fee;
Queen Hilda’s lovely daughter / will grant her love to thee.
She bids you now to hasten / at once to her in her bower;
No longer are you hated, / for better thoughts she harbors than of yore.”

The high-born knight then answered: / “To lie you have no need.
If true indeed were your tidings, / well should you be feed;
By me would three great castles / and a hide of land be given,
With sixty golden arm-bands; / while bliss thenceforth my days should long enliven.”

Then said to him another: / “This tale, I know, is true;
The fee should I be sharing. / At court they wish for you;
Gu-drun, the maid, has said it. / To love you she is ready;
And if in truth you wish it, / she in your land will be your queen and lady.”

To those who told the tidings / his thanks young Hartmut gave;
From off his seat, o’er-gladdened, / upsprang the warrior brave.
He thought that, in His kindness, / God this boon had done him,
And, with a heart now happy, / he sought the maiden’s bower who love had shown him.

In garments wet there standing, / was seen the high-born maid;
With eyes still dim with weeping, / greeting to him she said.
Forward she came to meet him; / and now so near was standing
That he, in fondness turning, / her in his arms would clasp, towards her bending.

She said: “Not so, King Hartmut, / this you may not do;
For men in truth would wonder / if they should look on you.
Nought am I but a washer; / in scorn would they be holding
You, a king so mighty, / if in your arms Gu-drun you should be folding.”

“This will I, Sir Hartmut, / freely to you allow,
When, by my crown, your kinsmen / me as a queen shall know.
No longer shall I scorn you, / when I that name am bearing:
For both will this be fitting; / me in your arms to take you may then be daring.”

Then, with all good-breeding, / he farther off withdrew,
And thus Gu-drun he answered: / “Maiden fair and true,
Since now you deign to love me, / richly will I reward you;
Myself and all my kinsmen, / whate’er you bid, will kindness show toward you.”

Then said to him the maiden: / “Such bliss I never knew.
If, after my weary toiling, / I aught may ask of you,
This first of all I wish for, / that I, poor wretched lady,
This night, before I slumber, / may have for me a restful bath made ready.

“And list to me yet further: / another boon I crave;
’Tis that my friendly maidens / I now with me may have.
Among Queen Gerlind’s women / you will find them, sad and weary;
But in their room no longer / those toiling ones away from me must tarry.”

“Your wish I grant you freely,” / the young King Hartmut said.
Then from the room of the women / the many maids were led;
With hair unkempt and streaming, / and scanty clothing wearing,
They to court betook them: / for them the wicked Gerlind nought was caring.

Of these came three and sixty; / on them did Hartmut look.
Then Gu-drun, the high-born, / with lofty breeding spoke:
“Behold, my lord, these maidens! / Is it your worth befitting
That they are thus uncared for?” / He said: “No more shall they the like be meeting.”

Then spake the high-born lady: / “Hartmut, for love of me,
I beg that these my maidens, / whom here in shame you see,
May have a bath made ready. / Let now my word be heeded;
You ought yourself to see them / decked in the comely clothes they long have needed.”

To her then answered Hartmut, / of knights a worthy one:
“Gu-drun, belovéd lady, / if clothes the maids have none
Erst by them brought hither, / when they their home were leaving,
To them yet other clothing, / the best in all the world, will I be giving.

“Gladly would I see them, / with you, more fitly clad.”
Then by those in waiting / baths were ready made.
Among the kin of Hartmut / chamberlains many were there;
To help Gu-drun they hastened, / thinking that later she their hopes would further.

Gu-drun and all her maidens / were by the bath made glad;
Then the best of clothing / that any ever had
To all the homeless women / alike was freely given.
The lowliest one among them / might gain the love of a king, if she had striven.

When they their bath had taken, / wine to them was brought;
In all the land of Normandy / none better need be sought;
And soon the weary maidens / the best of mead were drinking.
To Hartmut thanks were given; / to gain such praises how could he e’er be thinking!

Soon the lovely maiden / was seated in the hall.
Gerlind bade her daughter / then, with her maidens all,
To don their clothing quickly, / the finest and most fitting,
If they Queen Hilda’s daughter / wished to see, among her maidens sitting.

At once the well-born Ortrun / clothed her in her best;
To seek Gu-drun then straightway / gladly did she haste.
The grandchild of wild Hagen / quickly went to meet her;
When they saw each other, / the happiness of both was never greater.

Each one kissed the other, / ’neath a band of gold on her head;
The hue of both was brighter / for the golden light they shed.
Each in her way was happy; / Ortrun’s eyes were beaming,
To see the high-born washer / in finest clothes now clad, so comely seeming.

The poor Gu-drun was blithesome, / as we have said before,
That soon her friendly kinsmen / she would see once more.
The maidens sat together, / with playful talk now gladdened;
Whoever looked upon them / might gain a happy heart, however saddened.

“’Tis well for me,” said Ortrun, / “that I have lived till now,
When as the wife of Hartmut / you here yourself will show.
To one who loves my brother / gladly will I give her
The crown of my mother, Gerlind, / that I of right should wear did I outlive her.”

“Ortrun, may God reward you,” / thus the maiden spake;
“Whatever you shall bid me, / that will I do for your sake.
You have bewept so often / the sorrows I was bearing,
From you will I ne’er be sundered, / and every day shall you my love be sharing.”

Then with maiden wiliness / spake the fair Gu-drun:
“Now you ought, Sir Hartmut, / to send out runners soon,
Through all the Norman kingdom, / to give to friends your bidding,
As many as will hear it, / to come to your palace now, to see our wedding.

“When peace is in your borders, / this to you I say,
Before your host of warriors / I will wear the crown one day.
How many he has who woos me / thus shall I be knowing;
Then before your liegemen / myself and all my kin will I be showing.”

The maid in truth was crafty; / from the castle on that day
A hundred men or over / did Hartmut send away.
So, when the Hegeling fighters / should for him be seeking,
Fewer foes should meet them: / for this was Gu-drun their going thence bespeaking.

Then spake the old Queen Gerlind: / “Now, fair daughter mine,
You two must leave each other; / when another morn shall shine,
Then may you be together, / with none your bliss forbidding.”
She left Gu-drun, low bowing, / and begged that God would her in his ways be leading.

Then did Hartmut leave her. / All hearkened to her word;
They gave to the maiden cup-bearers, / and carvers at the board:
The high-born lady’s wishes / they bade should well be heeded;
Nor food nor drink she wanted: / busy were they to bring her all she needed.

Then spake one lovely maiden / among the Hegeling band:
“When we on this are thinking, / how from our fatherland
Our foes have brought us hither, / to live unblest forever,
We still are bowed with sorrow; / when in our homes, such woe we thought of never.”

She then began a-weeping, / where sat her lady fair.
When this was seen by others / who stood beside her there,
They felt yet greater sorrow / their heavy hearts now filling.
All then wept together; / but they saw their mistress, fair Gu-drun, was smiling.

They thought that now forever / they far from home must stay:
But their lady ne’er was thinking / to bide so long away;
They would, ere four days later, / their freedom all be knowing.
The time had come already / to whisper to Gerlind that they would soon be going.

Beyond her wont a little / to laugh had the maid begun;
For fourteen years now bygone / she never bliss had known.
Of her glee the bad she-devil / quickly now was hearing;
She gave the hint to Ludwig, / for care she felt, and anger past all bearing.

She went at once to Hartmut, / and said: “Oh, son of mine,
List to the truth I tell you! / throughout this land of thine,
All within it dwelling / shall see both strife and toiling.
Why it is I know not, / the fair young queen, Gu-drun, is now so smiling.

“I know not how it happened, / or how the news she heard,
But men sent out by her kinsmen / hither to come have dared.
Therefore, knightly Hartmut, / some way must you be choosing,
Lest, thro’ the friends she looks for, / your worthy name and life you may be losing.”

He said: “Be not so fearful. / I grudge it not to the maid
That she, with all her women, / should for a time be glad.
All her nearest kinsmen / far from me are dwelling;
What harm can they be doing? / I need not guard ’gainst ills they may be dealing.”

Gu-drun, now over-wearied, / some of her maidens sent
To see if her bed were ready, / for she on sleep was bent;
For a night at least her sorrow / she could now be leaving.
Then went with them most kindly / King Hartmut’s chamberlain, his service giving.

Youths of the Norman palace / before her bore the light;
On her they ne’er had waited / until that very night.
Thirty beds or over / now were found made ready;
Nice were they and cleanly, / meet for Gu-drun and many a well-born lady.

On them were pillows lying / from far Arabia brought,
With green, like leaves of clover, / and other hues, inwrought.
Bedspreads on them hanging / were sewed in strips most fairly;
And red as fire was shining / the gold mixed in with silken threads not sparely.

Beneath the silken bedspreads / fishes’ skins were laid,
To make them thicker and warmer. / The fair and lovely maid,
Thither come from the Hegelings, / Hartmut would be wooing,
For he as yet knew nothing / of the harm to him that her friends would soon be doing.

Then said the high-born maiden: / “To sleep you now may go,
All you that wait on Hartmut; / we, too, the same will do.
I, and my ladies with me, / one night at least will rest us;
For, since our coming hither, / freedom from hardest toil hath never blest us.”

All who there were gathered / of Hartmut’s knights and men,
The wise as well as youthful, / thence to go were seen;
They to rest then hasted, / the ladies’ bower now leaving.
Wine and mead unstinted / to the homeless maids were others freely giving.

Then said Hilda’s daughter: / “Now shut for me the door.”
They barred the ladies’ bedroom / with heavy bolts full four:
The room was shut so tightly / that what therein was doing,
However much one listened, / outside he nought could hear, nor might be knowing.

Awhile they all were seated, / merrily drinking wine;
Then said Gu-drun, the queenly: / “Dearest maidens mine,
You well may now be happy, / after your heavy sorrow:
Your friends I soon will show you; / on gladsome sights your eyes shall feed to-morrow.

“Herwic, my betrothéd, / did I this morning kiss,
And Ortwin, too, my brother; / you now may think on this.
She shall soon be richer, / and care from her be taken,
Who shall well be mindful, / when night is over, me in the morn to waken.

“You well shall be rewarded. / To us glad days are nigh:
And freely will I give you / castles strong and high,
And with them many acres; / for these shall I be gaining,
If I the day shall witness / when, as a queen, I o’er my lands am reigning.”

They now lay down to slumber, / with hearts all free from care.
They knew to them were speeding / knights full brave to dare,
Who erelong would help them, / and their woes would lighten.
To see them they were hoping, / soon as to-morrow’s sun the day should brighten.