Tale VI: How Sweetly Horant Sang

It came to pass one evening, / good luck did so befall,
That Horant, the knight of Daneland, / sang before them all.
His singing was so wondrous / that all who listened near him
Found his song well-pleasing; / the little birds all hushed their notes to hear him.

King Hagen heard him gladly, / and with him all his men:
The song of the Danish Horant / friends for him did gain.
Likewise the queenly mother / hearkened with ear befitting,
As it sounded thro’ the opening / where she upon the leaded roof was sitting.

Then spake the fair young Hilda: / “What is it that I hear?
Just now a song the sweetest / was thrilling on mine ear,
That e’er from any singer / I heard until this hour.
Would to God in heaven / my chamberlain to raise such notes had power!”

Then she bade them bring her / him who so sweetly sung;
Soon as the knight came forward, / thanks were on her tongue.
For her with song the evening / blissfully was ended;
By Lady Hilda’s women / the minstrel-knight was carefully befriended.

Then spake the lovely Hilda: / “Once more you must let us hear
The songs that you this evening / have made to us so dear.
Truly it were blissful / every day, at even,
To hear from you such singing; / for this would great reward to you be given.”

“Since you your thanks, fair lady, / have thus on me bestowed,
Every day will I gladly / sing you a song as good;
And whoso listens rightly / shall find his pains departed,
His cares shall all be lessened, / and he henceforth will feel himself light-hearted.”

When he his word had given, / forthwith he left the queen.
Great reward in Ireland / did his singing win;
Never in his birthland / had such to him been meted.
Thus did the knight from Denmark / give his help to Hettel, as him befitted.

Soon as the night was ended, / with the early dawn of day,
Horant raised his carol; / the birds soon stopped their lay,
And to his song they listened, / while in hedges hidden.
The folk who yet were sleeping / rested no more, by his sweet tones upbidden.

Horant’s song rose softly, / higher and yet more sweet;
King Hagen also heard it, / while near his wife was his seat.
From out their inner chamber / drawn to the roof, they waited;
Their guest of this had warning; / and Hilda the young gave ear, where she was seated.

The daughter of wild Hagen / with her maids around her heard
From where they sat and listened; / and now each little bird
Wholly forgot his singing, / and in the court-yard lighted;
The warriors hearkened also, / and well the song of the Danish minstrel greeted.

Thanks to him were given / by women and by men;
“But,” said the Danish Fru-te, / “would that I ne’er again
Such songs might hear him singing. / Whom would he be pleasing?
To whom is my witless nephew / such worthless morning-hymns so bent on raising?”

Then spake King Hagen’s liegemen: / “My lord, let him be heard;
There’s none so sick is lying / but would in truth be cheered,
If to the songs he listened / which fall from him so sweetly.”
Said Hagen: “Would to Heaven / such skill to sing were mine; ’twould glad me greatly.”

When the knightly minstrel / three songs to the end had sung,
No one there who heard him / thought they were too long,
The turn of a hand, not longer, / they had thought it lasted,
E’en if they had listened / while for a thousand miles a horseman hasted.

When his song he ended, / and to leave his seat was seen,
The youthful, queenly maiden / more blithe had never been,
Nor decked, at early morning, / in gayer clothes or better;
Forthwith the high-born lady / sent to beg her father now to meet her.

Then came her father quickly, / and on the maiden looked,
While, in a mood of sadness, / her father’s chin she stroked;
With her hand she coaxed him, / to make her word the stronger,
And said: “My dearest father, / bid that he at court may sing yet longer.”

He answered: “Best loved daughter, / if again, at the hour of eve,
His songs he deigns to sing you, / a thousand pounds I’ll give.
But now a mien so lofty / these guests of ours are wearing,
To us ’tis not so pleasant / here, at court, to give his songs a hearing.”

However much she pressed him, / would the king no longer stay;
Then strove again young Horant, / and never on any day,
Had his knightly song been better. / Sick and well together
All lost their wits in hearing, / and none could leave who to listen once came hither.

The wild beasts in the forest / let their pasture grow;
The little worms that creeping / through grass are wont to go,
The fishes, too, that ever / amidst the waves were swimming,
All now stopped to listen; / the singer’s heart with pride was overbrimming.

Whatever he might sing to them, / to no one seemed it long;
Ill vied with his song the choral / which by priests is sung.
Even the bells no longer / rang as of yore so sweetly;
Every one who heard him / was moved by Horant’s song, and saddened greatly.

Then begged the lovely maiden / that he to her be brought;
Without her father’s knowledge, / she slyly this besought.
From her mother, Hilda, also / must the tale be hidden
That unto her, in her bower, / unknown to all, the minstrel had been bidden.

It was a yielding chamberlain / who did the wages gain,
That, for his help, she gave him; / red gold it was, I ween.
Glittering and heavy, / with armlets twelve, full-weighted.
’Twas thus within her bower / the maid, at eventide, the singer greeted.

By hidden ways he did it; / Horant was glad indeed
That such good-will and kindness, / at court, had been his meed.
To win her love for his master / from far had he been faring;
To his tuneful skill he owed it / that she such friendly will to him was bearing.

She bade her faithful chamberlain / to stand before the house;
That so there might be no one / who could the threshold cross
Until the songs were ended, / soon heard with praises truthful.
None went into her bower / but Horant only and Morunc the youthful.

She bade the bard be seated: / “Now sing to me once more,”
Thus spake the high-born maiden, / “those songs I heard before.
For this I feel sore craving; / than aught beside ’tis sweeter
Unto your lays to listen; / than any gem or pastime ’tis far better.”

“If I might dare to sing to you, / most fair and lovely maid,
And never need be fearful / for this to lose my head,
Thro’ your father’s anger, / never will I falter
In any wise to serve you, / if in my master’s land you’ll seek a shelter.”

He then began a ditty / of a mermaid of Amilé,
Which never man nor Christian / had learned to sing or say,
Although he may have heard it / on some wild, unknown water.
In this the good knight, Horant, / gave honor meet at court to Hagen’s daughter.

At last, when he the love-song / had sung unto the end,
Then said the lovely maiden: / “Thanks I give, my friend.”
She drew a ring from her finger, / nought of gold were fairer,
And said: “I give it gladly; / be this of my good-will to you the bearer.”

Now her word she pledged him, / and with it gave her hand:
“Should she of a crown be wearer, / and ever sway the land,
That ne’er by the hand of any / need he be further driven
Than unto her in her castle; / there to live in honor would leave be given.”

Of all she pressed upon him / nothing would he take
Unless indeed a girdle. / He said: “Let no man speak,
And say that I the maiden / e’er for myself was wooing;
I will to my master bring her, / and for this his heart shall be with bliss o’erflowing.”

She asked: “Who is thy master? / By name how is he known?
Have e’er his liegemen crowned him? / And any lands doth he own?
For love of thee, most truly, / good-will I bear him ever.”
The knight from Denmark answered: / “A king so rich and mighty saw I never.”

He said: “To none betray us, / most fair and lovely maid;
To thee will I tell most gladly / what our master said,
When from his land we started, / hither to come at his bidding;
For thy dear sake, fair lady, / unto thy father’s land and castle speeding.”

She said: “Then tell me freely / the errand on which you’re sent
By him you call your master; / if my will that way is bent
I shall let you know it truly, / before we yet are parted.”
But Horant feared wild Hagen, / and began at court to feel himself faint-hearted.

To the lady thus he answered: / “To you he sends this word,—
That his heart for you is longing; / his love alone is stirred.
For him, I beg, fair lady, / let now your kindness waken;
He from other women / has for your sake his love and longing taken.”

She said: “May God reward him; / such love for me he shows.
If he in birth is my fellow, / I fain would be his spouse,
If you will deign to sing to me / every morn and even.”
He said: “That will I gladly; / to this no care by you need e’er be given.”

Quoth he to the queenly Hilda: / “Most fair and high-born maid,
There daily live with my master, / and long at court have staid,
Twelve minstrels who, before me, / earn much higher praises;
But, though sweet their singing, / my lord, the king, in song still better pleases.”

She said: “If your loving master / in song so skilful be,
Of longing for him, truly, / I never can be free;
My best of thanks I give him / for the love he now is showing,
And, dared I leave my father, / gladly from here would I with you be going.”

Then spake the knightly Morunc: / “Lady, with us there are
Warriors full seven hundred: / our weal or woe they share,
And each for this is ready; / if once in our hands we have you,
Know you nor fear nor sorrow / lest we to meet wild Hagen’s wrath should leave you.”

He said: “From Hagen’s kingdom / we wish forthwith to go;
Therefore beg your father / the kindness to us to show,
Youthful, high-born maiden, / that he and your queenly mother
Will deign our bark to look on; / and you must also come, e’en if no other.”

“That will I do most gladly, / if my father’s leave you have;
Of him and those about him / this boon you now must crave,
That I and my maidens also / may ride to the shore some morning.
If he shall grant your wishes, / three days before, of the time you must give us warning.”

The first of all the chamberlains / was wont, and had a right,
Often to be with the maidens. / Just then, this very knight
There had come for pastime, / and to give to them his greeting;
There found he Horant and Morunc; / well might they fear some harm was their lives awaiting.

He said to Lady Hilda: / “Who are they sitting here?”
From the lord so hot and hasty / was never such wrath to fear.
He said: “Whoe’er allowed you / to come into this bower?
Whoso in this hath helped you / ne’er showed you falser friendship to this hour.”

She said: “Now soothe your anger: / in peace pray let them live.
If to yourself great evil / you do not wish to give,
You must unseen by any, / them to their rooms be bringing;
It else hath helped but little / that his knightly songs the minstrel here was singing.”

“Is this the knight,” he asked her, / “they say so well can sing?
E’en such a minstrel know I: / never hath any king
Had a braver fighter. / My father and his mother
Were children of one father; / worthier knight than he there’s not another.”

The maid began to ask him: / “Tell me, then, his name.”
He said: “Men call him Horant; / from the Danish land he came.
Although no crown he weareth, / he yet for one is fitted:
We now know not each other, / but once at Hettel’s court our love we plighted.”

When Morunc, too, was telling / that erst, in his fatherland,
He also had been outlawed, / his heart was sorely pained.
His eyes with tears were welling, / and now were overflowing;
Then the queenly lady / kindly looked on him, her sorrow showing.

Then saw the chamberlain also / how that his eyes were wet.
He said: “Most worthy lady, / these friends whom here we meet
I know to be my kinsmen; / help now that all goes rightly
With both these worthy champions: / most careful will I be to keep them fitly.”

Much for them he sorrowed, / and felt heart-pain, forsooth;
“Durst I before my ladies, / I would kiss upon the mouth
Each of these knights so worthy. / The days indeed are many
Since tidings of King Hettel / I could from a Hegeling ask, or learn from any.”

Then spake the maiden further: / “Since these thy kinsmen be,
Now so much the dearer / are they as guests to me.
Known unto my father / thou should’st quickly make them;
They will not then so hastily / to their homes afar across the sea betake them.”

A busy talk began they, / those two young heroes brave;
Morunc unto the chamberlain / his mind most freely gave.
He said for Lady Hilda / they came within those borders;
And that their master Hettel / to bring her back had sent them, as her warders.

Then said to them the chamberlain: / “A twofold care I feel,
As liegeman of my master, / and to help you, too, as well.
How could I turn his anger, / if he knew you now were seeking
To win his maiden daughter? / Never from here could you your way be taking.”

Then spake the knightly Horant: / “Hear well what now I say;
In four days’ time to Hagen, / we will come, and him will pray
That we may leave his kingdom, / if such may be his pleasure.
The king will then make ready / gifts for us of clothes, as well as treasure.

“We will ask for nothing further, / (help you here must lend,)
But that Hagen shall be willing, / as well beseems a friend,
To come to the shore to see us, / my lady with him riding,—
His wife, the high-born Hilda; / there to see the ship in which we’re biding.

“Might we in this be lucky, / our toil we well shall spend;
And, with a happy outcome, / our sorrows have an end.
If only to the seashore / he will ride with his daughter,
We well shall be rewarded / at home by our master Hettel, for whom we sought her.”

Then from out the castle / they were led by the crafty man,
So that the kingly Hagen / mistrusted not their plan.
When, for their floating shelter, / they the courtyard quitted,
All they had done for their master / should not, I ween, by him at home be slighted.

They told the aged Wâ-te / what yet to none was known:
They said the high-born maiden / her love did freely own
Unto their master, Hettel, / for whom they now had sought her;
They talked with wise old Wâ-te / how best to bring her home across the water.

Then spake the aged Wâ-te: / “Were she once outside the gate,
And I the lovely maiden / there might only meet,
However hard the struggle / that there we had with the foeman,
To cross her father’s threshold / none again should see that lovely woman.”

Their plot, well-laid and crafty, / to no one did they break,
But slyly made them ready / their homeward way to take.
This they told the warriors / on board their ship there lying;
Not loth were they to hear it, / for now to sail the weary men were sighing.

They quickly brought together / such goods as they did own;
Then, in stillness whispered, / their hidden thought made known.
Later, throughout Ireland, / it was mourned, with bitter wailing;
Though woe it brought to Hagen, / the Hegeling’s greatness would it soon be telling.

Upon the fourth day’s morning / to court they bravely rode,
With new and well-cut clothing; / none better ever showed.
Then the guests there gathered / were their wishes speaking;
Of the king and all his liegemen / they asked that they their leave might now be taking.

Then spake to them King Hagen: / “Why will you leave my land?
So far as I was able, / I have striven for this end,—
That you within my kingdom / should meet with kindness only;
Now would you hence be sailing, / leaving me here, to lead a life all lonely.”

To him old Wâ-te answered: / “The Hegeling king, our lord,
Has sent to call us homeward; / he will not hear a word
Of aught but our forgiveness. / Then, too, for us are mourning
Those we left behind us; / we therefore soon must back on our way be turning.”

Then said to him wild Hagen: / “Your loss my heart doth break;
Horses and fine clothing / deign, for my love, to take,
With gold and costly jewels. / Right well it doth beseem me
For all your gifts to pay you; / in this shall no one ever dare to blame me.”

Then said the hoary Wâ-te: / “Too rich am I to-day
That I the gold you give us / should wish to take away.
Our master, whose forgiveness / our friends have lately won us,
The rich and mighty Hettel, / in such a deed would truly never own us.

“One thing we have yet further, / my lord, to ask of thee;
(If you this kindness show us, / a worthy boon, ’twill be.)
It is that you shall witness / how well we can be feasting;
Of food for hearty eaters / we have in store what might three years be lasting.

“To all who ask we give it, / for hence we sail o’er the deep;
May God long give you honor, / yourself may He ever keep.
We now betake us homeward, / we here may bide no longer;
Now may you and your kinsfolk / ride with us to our ship; no guard were stronger.

“If but your lovely daughter, / and with her my lady, your wife,
Shall look upon our riches, / glad will it make our life,
And dear to us forever. / If this to us be granted,
Great and good King Hagen, / from you no other gifts shall e’er be wanted.”

Then to his guests he answered, / with seemly, well-bred mien:
“Since you are now so earnest, / at early morn shall be seen
A hundred mares made ready, / saddled for woman or maiden;
I, too, will ride down with them; / right glad am I that to see your ship I’m bidden.”

Then for the night they left him, / and rode away to the shore.
Then up on the beach was carried / of wine a goodly store,
That in the bark was lying; / for food they were not lacking.
By this the ship was lightened; / wisely had Fru-te of Denmark his plans been making.