Twenty-Fifth Adventure: How the Lords all Came into Hungary

But let us tell no further how there the work they plied.
Never to a king's country were known before to ride
Such well-appointed squadrons as thither were to speed.
They had whate'er they wanted, both weapons and eke weed.

The King of Rhine apparel gave to his liegemen bold,
To threescore and a thousand, as I have heard it told,
Beside nine thousand yeomen, on mirth and revel bent.
Those, whom they left behind them, soon rued that e'er they went.

In Worms, as their equipment was carrying through the court,
From Spire an aged bishop, of reverend report,
Thus bespake fair Uta, "Our worthy friends prepare
To yonder feast to travel; God watch and ward them there!"

Thereon the noble Uta bespake her children dear,
"Far better stay, good heroes, and tend your safety here.
I had last night, my children, a dream of ghastly dread,
How all the birds, that flutter throughout this land, were dead."

"Who cares for dreams," said Hagan, "and thinks by them to walk,
Ne'er in the path of honor with sturdy steps can stalk,
Or breathe the voice of reason, but wavers to and fro.
I rede, my noble master take leave and forward go.

"Yes, we shall ride full gladly hence into Etzel's land.
There kings need for their service many a good hero's hand,
And this fair feast of Kriemhild's awaits us there to view."
So Hagan urg'd the journey, which soon he came to rue.

He ne'er had giv'n such counsel but for what late had pass'd,
When scorn on him Sir Gernot had so unseemly cast,
Reminding him of Siegfried, and what had erst been done,
As though for that dislik'd him the journey to the Hun.

Then answer'd he of Trony, "Fear prompts not what I rede.
If so you'll have it, heroes, fall to the work and speed;
You'll find me not the hindmost to ride to Etzel's realm."
Soon shatter'd he thereafter many a shield and many a helm.

The boats were waiting ready, the band was muster'd there;
Thither his choice apparel each one made haste to bear.
Their toil was scarce well over ere eve fell on the lea;
So from their homes they parted as merry as might be.

Beyond the Rhine's fair current their hasty camp was seen;
There tents and proud pavilions bespotted all the green.
The lovely queen her husband detain'd for that one night,
The last they spent together, dole mingling with delight.

At early dawn there sounded sweet flute and trumpet-clang;
'Twas the hour of parting; to work the warriors sprang.
With a hasty kiss fond lovers were then constrain'd to sever.
With woe and death fell Kriemhild soon sunder'd them for ever.

The children of fair Uta a man had at their court,
Bold alike and faithful, in all of best report.
The same, as they were going, drew the king aside.
"Woe's me," said he, "dear master, you to this feast will ride."

The good knight's name was Rumolt, a tall man of his hands.
Said he, "To whom commit you your people and your lands?
Would one could turn your warriors to do what best you should;
This message of your sister's it never seem'd me good."

"This is my will and pleasure; to thee my infant heir,
To thee I trust my country; of the women take good care;
Whomever thou see'st weeping, his woe with comfort charm.
Sure at the hands of Kriemhild we ne'er can come to harm."

For the kings and for their liegemen the steeds were ready ranged;
How many then, with kisses of true love interchanged,
Full flown with lively vigor, athirst for bold emprise,
Left each a stately lady to droop in tears and sighs.

When light into their saddles up sprang the warriors good,
Then might you see the women how sorrowful they stood.
All felt, they did for ever, and to their doom, depart,
A dreary, dark foreboding, that shakes the firmest heart!

As the bold Burgundians rode forth in gallant show,
To see them all the country ran hurrying to and fro.
On either side the mountains both men and women wept.
Little reck'd they the weepers; their joyous course they kept.

In habergeons a thousand the knights of Nibelung's reign,
Who many a lovely lady they ne'er should see again
Had left at home in sorrow, rode gaily with the rest.
The wounds of Siegfried fester'd in Kriemhild's throbbing breast.

So went they ever onward until the Main they spied,
Thence up through Eastern Frankland the men of Gunther hied.
Well knew the roads Sir Hagan, who led their steps aright;
Their marshal was Sir Dankwart, the stout Burgundian knight.

As on from Eastern Frankland to Schwanfeld still they rode,
Their grace and stately courtesy and knightly bearing show'd,
The princes and their kindred deserv'd their lofty fame.
The king on the twelfth morning unto the Danube came.

A space the Knight of Trony rode on before the host;
He still the Nibelungers best cheer'd and aided most.
The fear-defying champion alighted on the lea,
And fast beside the river his horse tied to a tree.

Swoln was the roaring river, bark was there none to spy;
Every bold Nibelunger look'd on with wistful eye
In doubt how to pass over, the surges spread so wide.
Many a good knight from saddle down sprung the stream beside.

"Good Lord of Rhine," said Hagan, "much mischief here may be,
Much may'st thou have to suffer, as thou thyself may'st see.
Strong is the flood and furious, the stream can ill be cross'd.
Many a good knight, I fear me, will here to-day be lost."

"Why dost thou check me, Hagan?" the troubled king 'gan say;
"Do not, as thou are valiant, the daunted more dismay.
Look out a ford up higher, above these lower meads,
Where we may pass in safety our baggage and our steeds."

"I never," answer'd Hagan, "my life so weary found, But in these burly
billows 'twould irk me to be drown'd. Many a knight of Etzel's, ere yet
my day be o'er, By this good hand shall perish; that, 'faith, would
please me more.

"So here beside the water, ye noble knights, abide;
Myself will seek the ferrymen along the river side,
And bid them bring us over hence into Gelfrat's land."
With that the sturdy Hagan took his good shield in hand.

Well arm'd was the stern champion; he bore a shield of might; Strongly
lac'd was his helmet, well-temper'd, burnish'd bright;
His broadsword in a baldric hung o'er his armor sheen;
Wounds could it cut full ghastly with both its edges keen.

As there and here for boatmen look'd out the warrior good,
He heard a splash of water; listening awhile he stood.
The sound came from wise women, who took their pleasure near,
Bathing for refreshment in a fountain cool and clear.

'Ware of them was Hagan; nigh he closely crept;
Sudden they espied him,--how away they swept!
That they had so escap'd him, their bosoms swell'd with joy;
He seiz'd upon their raiment, nor wrought them more annoy.

Then one of them bespake him (Hadburg was her name),
"Noble knight, Sir Hagan, go seek a worthier game.
Give us back our raiment, and we will tell thee all
That from this march to Hungary shall thee and thine befall."

Like water-hens they floated before him on the wave.
Him seem'd, their well-known wisdom of truth assurance gave;
Hence what they chose to tell him, he took with more belief.
Then thus they of the future resolv'd the listening chief.

Said th' one, "To Etzel's country (doubt not what Hadburg saith)
You well may ride and safely, for that I pledge my faith,
And never band of heroes sought kingdom far or near
To win such height of honor; 'tis true as we are here."

Well pleas'd her speech Sir Hagan, his heart wax'd light and gay;
He gave them back their vesture, and would no longer stay;
But when again the mermaids had donn'd their wondrous weed,
They told in truth, how Gunther in Hungary should speed.

And then the other mermaid, that Sieglind hight, began,
"I will warn thee, Hagan, thou son of Aldrian;
My aunt has lied unto thee her raiment back to get;
If once thou coms't to Hungary, thou'rt taken in the net.

"Turn, while there's time for safety, turn, warriors most and least;
For this, and for this only, you're bidden to the feast,
That you perforce may perish in Etzel's bloody land.
Whoever rideth thither, Death has he close at hand."

Thereto gave answer Hagan, "In vain you cheat and lie,
How can it ever happen that there we all shall die,
However fierce the hatred that one to us may bear?"
They then began the future more fully to declare.

Then thus the first bespake him, "Yet so it needs must be;
Not one of you his country again shall ever see,
Not one but the king's chaplain; this well to us is known;
To Gunther's land in safety return shall he alone."

Then angrily Sir Hagan bespake her, frowning stern,
"'Twere ill to tell my masters what they'd disdain and spurn,
That we should all in Hungary death and destruction find.
Now show us o'er the water, wisest of womankind."

Said she, "Since from this journey, it seems, thou wilt not turn,
Up yonder by the river an inn thou may'st discern.
A ferryman there dwelleth; no others here abide."
The knight believ'd her answer, and took her words for guide.

Him then the first call'd after as gloomily he went,
"Stay yet awhile, Sir Hagan, why so on haste intent?
Hear better our instructions to reach the farther strand.
A margrave, that hight Elsy, is lord of all this land.

"He has a valiant brother (Sir Gelfrat men him call),
A great lord in Bavaria; ill might it you befall,
If through his march you travel; your course with caution plan,
And smoothly deal and gently with yonder ferryman.

"He scarce will leave you scathless (so fierce is he and rude),
Unless with sound discretion you temper his rough mood.
Would you he'd put you over, pay down at once the fare.
He is a friend of Gelfrat's and of this land has care.

"And, should the ferryman tarry, across the river shout,
And say your name is Amelrich, whom late a feud drove out
Perforce from this, his country, a knight of birth and fame.
Good speed will make the ferryman when once he hears the name."

For all reply Sir Hagan to the wise ladies bow'd;
Then in his gloomy silence strode off the warrior proud.
Still higher up the river along the shore he hied,
Until a lonely hostel on th' other bank he spied.

He straight across the water 'gan call with all his might,
"Come, carry me over, ferryman," shouted the lusty knight.
"Of ruddy gold an armlet I'll give thee for thy meed.
Come, carry me, well thou knowest how pressing is my need."

The ferryman was wealthy, to serve he scarce could bear,
And hence it seldom happened he deign'd to take a fare.
His men were like their master, as moody and misproud.
Still on this side Sir Hagan stood ever shouting loud.

So loud and strong he shouted, that all the water rung,
While the deep-chested warrior thus thunder'd from his tongue,
"Come, put me o'er, I'm Amelrich, who Elsy serv'd and sued,
The same who from this country fled for a mortal feud."

High on his sword an armlet held out the champion bold
(Bright was it and glittering and ruddy all with gold)
That he might be put over thence into Gelfrat's land.
Then took the burly boatman himself an oar in hand.

He was in sooth, that boatman, an ill-condition'd elf.
Nothing leads men to ruin like hankering after pelf.
He thought by ferrying Hagan his ruddy gold to get;
A sword-stroke for an armlet, and death for gain he met.

With sinewy might the boatman row'd o'er to yonder strand,
But not the man he heard of sprung to the boat from land.
The ferryman wax'd furious when Hagan there he found;
Thus he bespake the hero, and speaking darkly frown'd.

"Your name it may be Amelrich for ought I know," said he,
"But you're like him I look'd for as little as can be.
In sooth he was my brother, by father and mother's side
You've put a trick upon me, so on this bank shall bide."

"Nay, think again, for heaven's sake," Sir Hagan made reply,
"In pain for sundry comrades a foreign knight am I;
So take my fare contented, and kindly put me o'er;
You'll bind me to your service, your friend for evermore."

"No, no," replied the ferryman, "it must not, faith, be so;
My good lords all around them have many a deadly foe;
For this, I ne'er put over strangers into this land,
So, as your life you value, out with you to the strand."

"Nay, speak not so," said Hagan, "you see my drooping cheer;
Take of me, and welcome, the gold I hand you here,
And ferry a thousand horses and as many knights of pride."
"That will I do never," the ferryman grim replied.

With the word up caught he an oar both broad and long,
And lent the knight a buffet so sturdy and so strong,
That in the boat he brought him at once upon his knee.
Such a boisterous boatman never before met he.

Yet more the haughty stranger to wrath would he provoke,
So on the head of Hagan a boat-pole next he broke,
The ferryman of Elsy was sure a lusty wight,
Yet naught but loss and ruin got he by all his might.

The grim knight up starting ended soon the fray;
To the sheath quick gripp'd he wherein his weapon lay.
Off he his head has smitten, and to the bottom thrown.
Soon were the glad tidings to the bold Burgundians known.

The boat meanwhile, ere Hagan its master yet had slain,
Had dropp'd into the current; this wrought him mickle pain,
For ere he round could bring it, faint he to wax began,
Yet strongly row'd and stoutly King Gunther's large-limb'd man.

The brawny stranger turn'd it with many a sturdy stroke,
Till in his grasp o'ermaster'd the oar asunder broke.
He long'd to reach his comrades at a near landing-place,
But oar had ne'er another, so this he join'd apace.

With a shield-thong together (poor cord, but workman good!)
And then adown the river made for a neighboring wood.
There his good lords the warrior found waiting on the strand;
Many a bold knight ran toward him as he drew nigh the land.

Him well his comrades greeted beside the foamy flood,
But when they saw the shallop reeking all with blood
From that grim wound, that sudden the ferryman did to death,
They put a thousand questions to Hagan in a breath.

When beheld King Gunther the hot blood, how it ran
About the heaving ferry, thus he straight began.
"Here's a boat, Sir Hagan, but where's the boatman left?
Your sturdy strength, I fear me, the wretch's life hath reft."

With lying tongue he answer'd, "The shallop I espied
Fast by a desert meadow, myself the same untied.
I have seen no boatman; this I can truly say;
And harm to none has happen'd by fault of mine to-day."

Thereto the bold Burgundian Sir Gernot made reply,
"To-day deep care besets me; many a dear friend must die.
With not a boatman ready to put our people o'er,
'Twere hard to cross the river; this I must needs deplore."

Loud then shouted Hagan, "Lay down upon the grass
Our riding-gear, ye yeomen! I recollect I was
On Rhine the best of ferrymen that e'er took oar in hand.
Trust me, I'll put you over safe into Gelfrat's land."

To make their passage quicker, the horses in a throng
They drove into the river; these swam so well and strong,
That by the forceful current the warriors lost not one;
A few down lower landed with weary toil foredone.

Long and broad and massy was that huge ferry-boat.
Five hundred men and better it all at once could float
With their food and weapons from sounding shore to shore.
That day many a good warrior perforce strain'd at the oar.

Aboard then plac'd the heroes their gold and eke their weed.
The goal of dark destruction they sought with fatal speed.
Hagan was master-boatman; his luckless skill alone
Full many a gallant champion brought to that land unknown.

Noble knights a thousand first he ferried o'er,
Thereto his own stout followers; behind still tarried more.
Nine thousand lusty varlets he after brought away.
The hand of him of Trony had little rest that day.

As the good knight thus deftly was putting o'er his freight,
He thought on the strange warning he had receiv'd so late
From those wise river-ladies with their prophetic breath;
It brought King Gunther's chaplain within a hair of death.

By his holy things close seated he found the priest at rest,
With one hand gently leaning above a relique-chest;
But in the grasp of Hagan that help'd him not the least.
Sore wrong perforce he suffer'd, that heaven-forsaken priest.

He caught and cast him over sooner than can be told.
Many a voice loud shouted, "Hold, hold, Sir Hagan, hold!"
Wroth at the deed was Giselher, Dame Uta's youngest son,
But hold would not Sir Hagan till the mischief he had done.

Then the bold Burgundian the good Sir Gernot spake,
"What can it boot you, Hagan, the chaplain's life to take?
Had any other done it, he should have rued it straight.
What can thus have mov'd you the holy man to hate?"

Stoutly swam the chaplain; to 'scape ne'er doubted he,
Would any but assist him, but that was not to be;
Stern Hagan, fierce and furious, as close he swam along,
Dash'd him to the bottom, wrong heaping still on wrong.

None there but thought it outrage, yet none came to his aid,
Which when he saw, back turning for th' other bank he made;
Though fail'd his strength o'erwearied, yet God's almighty hand
Back bore him through the billows, and brought him safe to land.

There stood the poor clerk shivering, and shook his dripping weed.
By this well knew Sir Hagan that their dark doom decreed,
As those wild mermaids warn'd him, 'twas all in vain to shun.
Thought he, "These hopeful champions must perish every one."

Soon as the bark was emptied, and all the goods it bore
By the three brethren's vassals were safely brought to shore,
Stern Hagan broke it piecemeal and down the current cast;
The good knights star'd upon him, with wonder all aghast.

"What are you doing, brother?" Dankwart sudden cried,
"How shall we cross the river, when back we have to ride
To the Rhine from Hungary our homes again to see?"
Thereafter Hagan told him, that that was ne'er to be.

Then said the Knight of Trony, "I do it to this end,
That, should a coward among us upon this journey wend,
Who would perchance desert us through heart-appalling fear,
A shameful death may meet him in the wild waters here."

Then when the priest saw Hagan the bark in pieces break,
Far o'er the boiling billows to the stern knight he spake.
"What did I to you ever, base murderer," he began,
"That you this day attempted to drown a guiltless man?"

Then answer gave Sir Hagan, "Now of this no more;
I tell you on my honor, Sir Priest, it irks me sore
That thus you have escap'd me; I neither jest nor feign."
"For this God prais'd be ever!" said the poor chaplain.

"I fear you not, assure you, though brought to death so nigh.
Now on with you to Hungary; over the Rhine will I.
God grant you never thither come back, you knight untrue!
So hence with my worst wishes, for what you could not do!"

With those undaunted squadrons from Burgundy there came
A bold quick-handed champion; Folker was his name.
Whate'er he thought, out-spake he with ready wit and light.
All that was done by Hagan, the minstrel held for right.

Their steeds were ready saddled; their sumpters loaded too;
Not yet, throughout the journey, had one had cause to rue,
Save only the king's chaplain, the nearly drown'd divine;
He plod must weary homeward, and foot it to the Rhine.