Thirty-Eighth Adventure: How Sir Dietrich's Men were all Slain

The cry of lamentation now spread so far around
That tower and hall and palace rang with the rueful sound.
A certain Berner heard it, the noble Dietrich's man.
To tell the bloody tidings, how swift away he ran!

Then thus the prince bespake he, "Sir Dietrich, hear my tale;
Surely heard I never such wild and woful wail,
As in my ears is ringing, through all the life I've past.
The king himself, I doubt not, has join'd the feast at last.

"Why else should such loud sorrow through all the people spread?
The king, or Lady Kriemhild, or both of them are dead,
By those redoubted strangers laid low through fell despite;
So weeping and so wailing is many a courtly knight."

Then outspake the Berner, "My merrymen every one,
Now be not over-hasty; what has e'en now been done
By those home-distant champions, through hard constraint befell.
I proffer'd them my service, now let it boot them well."

Quick then spake Sir Wolfhart, "Straight I'll thither run,
And inquire the tidings, what the guests have done,
Then, my good lord, will tell you, when I there have been
And of the truth possess'd me, what all this wail may mean."

Thereto replied Sir Dietrich, "When the heart is gall,
Should reckless, rough inquiries just then perchance befall,
Wrath's yet glowing embers flame up with ease anew.
I would not have the question, good Wolfhart, ask'd by you."

Then turn'd he to Sir Helfrich, and bade him speed his best,
And either from Hungarian or from stranger guest
Learn what had really happen'd, that so their grief had stirr'd.
Ne'er had in any country so wild a wail been heard.

The messenger 'gan question, "Why what has here been done?"
"Oh! we are lost forever!" straight replied a Hun.
"All joy's forever vanish'd, that cheer'd King Etzel's reign.
Here lies the noble Rudeger, by yon Burgundians slain.

"Of those who enter'd with him return'd no living soul,"
At the words stood Helfrich struck dumb with mortal dole.
Tale of such deep horror never met his ear.
The messenger to Dietrich went back with many a tear.

"What are the news you bring us?" cried Dietrich at the sight,
"Why do you weep so bitterly, Sir Helfrich, noble knight?"
"Alas!" exclaim'd the champion, "well may I weep and plain;
The hands of yon Burgundians good Rudeger have slain."

"Now God forbid!" cried Dietrich, "that could I ne'er have ween'd;
Sure 'twere a fearful vengeance, and sport for the foul fiend.
How at their hands had Rudeger deserv'd so sad an end?
Full well I know, those strangers had ne'er so firm a friend."

Then answer made Sir Wolfhart, "If they this deed have done,
Their lives shall pay the forfeit; die shall they every one.
'Twould be to our dishonor, should we such outrage bear.
Oft we have had good service from noble Rudeger."

The lord of th' Amelungers yet more to know was bent.
Down sat he at a window anxious and ill content;
Then Hildebrand straight bade he haste to the strangers bold,
And what had really happen'd from their own lips be told.

A well-approved warrior was master Hildebrand,
Yet took he, on his message, nor shield nor sword in hand,
For all in peaceful fashion to seek the guests he meant. His sister's son
beheld it with angry discontent.

Then sternly spake grim Wolfhart, "If thus unarm'd you go,
Naught but reproach and insult can hap from such a foe.
With outrage and dishonor needs must you hither back;
But if you're seen in harness, you'll find the foremost slack."

So th' old and wise took counsel of the foolish and the young.
Ere he could don his armor, theirs on in haste had flung
All the knights of Dietrich; each shook his naked blade.
Sore it irk'd the warrior; full fain had he renounced such aid.

Whither would they, inquir'd he--"Thither, good knight with you;
What if o'erweening Hagan, to his ill habit true,
So much the worse upon you his spite and scorn should vent."
When this was told the champion, he could not but consent.

Soon as the valiant Folker saw sheath'd in armor bright
The flower of Bern advancing, Sir Dietrich's men of might,
Bucklers all uplifting, girded all with swords,
Ready notice gave he to his Burgundian lords.

Thus spake the fearless minstrel, "On this, my lords, advise;
There see I Dietrich's Berners come on in hostile guise,
All helmeted and harnessed;--they'll fight us, well I know.
With us forlorn and friendless ill now, I ween, 'twill go."

Scarce had he done speaking, when Hildebrand came on.
Before his feet the warrior set down his shield anon,
And thus began his question to put to Gunther's crew;
"Alas! ye valiant heroes, what has Rudeger done to you?

"I come from my lord Dietrich, from you the truth to gain,
If any here among you with bloody hand has slain
The good and noble margrave, as some to us declare.
Such weight of mortal sorrow were more than we could bear."

"The woful news," said Hagan, "cannot be denied;
Would for the sake of Rudeger your messenger had lied,
And yet the chief were living! 'tis all too true a tale;
For the good knight must ever both man and woman wail."

Soon as the knights of Dietrich heard he indeed was dead,
As love and truth impell'd them, they wailed drearihead.
Bitter tears forth gushing beard and chin ran o'er;
Such deep remorse for Rudeger in their inmost hearts they bore.

A duke of Bern, Sir Siegstab, sighing then began,
"So comes to end the kindness, wherewith this blameless man,
After our days of sorrow, reliev'd our woe and pain.
Here the poor exile's comfort lies by you heroes slain."

Next him, the Amelunger, the good Sir Wolfwine, said,
"If I saw to-day my father before me lying dead,
More I could not sorrow e'en for such a life.
Alas! who now can comfort the gentle margrave's wife?"

Then spake in storm of passion Wolfhart the moody knight,
"Who now will harnessed warriors lead to so many a fight,
As oft has done the margrave, and to our foemen's cost,
Alas! right noble Rudeger, that thee we thus have lost!"

Sir Wolfbrand and Sir Helfrich and eke Sir Helmnot shed
True tears, with all their comrades, for him who there lay dead.
Old Hildebrand through sobbing could not inquire the rest;
Said he, "Go to, ye warriors, perform my lord's request.

"Give us the corpse of Rudeger from out yon reeking hall;
So pale and dead lies with him the comfort of us all;
And let us now requite him for all he e'er has done
To us of his great kindness, and besides to many a one.

"We ourselves are exiles like blameless Rudeger.
Wherefore would you delay us? Him hence then let us bear,
And pay him every honor now that he dead is laid.
Such unto the living we gladlier would have paid."

Thereto replied King Gunther, "Service so good is none,
As after death, Sir Hildebrand, to friend by friend is done.
That, whosoe'er performs it, firm steadfast faith I call.
You pay him as is fitting, for well he serv'd you all."

"How long must we be waiting?" cried Wolfhart proud and high;
"Since our choicest comfort you have done to die,
And we no more can have him amongst us safe and sound,
Let us take him forthwith hence to the burial ground."

"None here will fetch him to you," the minstrel answer gave;
"Enter the hall and take him, where lifeless lies the brave,
Deep gash'd with gaping death-wounds, as in the blood he fell.
'Tis all you can do for him, and thus you'll serve him well."

"Sir gleeman," said fierce Wolfhart, "you've done us grievous ill.
God knows, that you had better not move us further still.
But for my lord's injunctions, you'd be in evil plight;
Now we must pass it over; forbidd'n are we to fight."

Then spake the fiery minstrel, "His courage is but small,
Who, soon as one forbids him, would fain pass over all.
Such can I never reckon the mood of a true knight."
His comrade's words Sir Hagan approv'd as just and right.

"Persist not to provoke me," said Wolfhart, "or full soon
Your strings, without your leave too, I'll put so out of tune,
You'll have enough to talk of on your journey hence.
No longer I with honor will bear your insolence."

Straight replied the minstrel, "Sir knight, howe'er you may
Put my strings out of order and spoil my viol's play,
This hand shall first dim sadly our helmets brilliancy,
However chance may bring me back to fair Burgundy."

With that the furious Wolfhart had leapt upon him fain,
But Hildebrand, his uncle, still held him back amain.
"Thy silly rage would drive thee, I ween, to draw the sword,
And so thou'dst lose forever the favor of my lord."

"Let loose the lion, master, that storms so fierce and proud.
If I can only reach him," the minstrel shouted loud,
"Though all the world together his prowess may have slain,
I'll strike him such a swordstroke, he'll ne'er reply again."

By this the Berner's fury was kindled to the height.
His shield at once before him held Wolfhart the swift knight.
Forward, like a wild lion, he darted to th' attack.
A crowd of nimble followers cluster'd at his back.

But swift as was the warrior, and swift as was his band,
First at the foot of the staircase was aged Hildebrand.
None would he have before him where'er a field was fought.
Soon among the strangers found they what they sought.

Straight upon Sir Hagan leapt Master Hildebrand;
The sword you might hear clatter in either champion's hand.
Well might you note their fury by many a sturdy stroke.
From their clashing broadswords a fire-red blast there broke.

Soon were they swept asunder by th' heady stream of fight;
'Twas done by the fierce Berners hurtling in their might.
So from grim Sir Hagan turn'd off that aged man.
Wolfhart meanwhile in fury at valiant Folker ran.

On the good helm the minstrel he smote with fell intent,
So that the edge, descending, e'en to the beaver went.
That stroke the forceful gleeman repaid with such a blow,
As sent the sturdy Wolfhart tottering to and fro.

They clash'd, that from the hauberks sparks were seen to start,
Either bore the other deadly hate at heart.
A Berner then, Sir Wolfwine, parted that stormy fight.
Who on such deed could venture, was sure a prowest knight.

The noble king, Sir Gunther, with frank and willing hand
Met the renowned champions of th' Amelungers' land.
Then, too, the good Sir Giselher himself so knightly bore,
That he made the polish'd morions red and wet with gore.

Dankwart, Hagan's brother, was a champion grim.
Whate'er on Etzel's meiny had late been wrought by him,
A puff was to the tempest that now to rise began;
So furiously did battle the son of Aldrian.

Ritschart as well as Gerbart, Helfrich and Wichart, too,
Spared themselves but seldom with bloody work to do;
This in the fierce hurly to Gunther's men they show'd.
Into the strife Sir Wolfbrand like a noble warrior strode.

Then, as though he were frantic, fought aged Hildebrand.
Many a good knight, o'ermaster'd by Wolfhart's stalwart hand
Into the blood, death-stricken, beneath his broadsword fell.
Thus the bold knights of Dietrich reveng'd the margrave well.

Then, as his courage mov'd him, the good Sir Siegstab strove;
Ah! how the glittering morions of his stern foes he clove
In that tempestuous conflict, Sir Dietrich's sister's son!
Amidst the storm of battle ne'er had he better done.

The valiant minstrel Folker, soon as he espied
A bloody brook forth gushing as Siegstab fiercely plied
His sword upon the hauberks, in a storm of rage was tossed;
Furious he leapt upon him; at once Sir Siegstab lost

His life by that stern minstrel, who, to the warrior's ill,
Proof gave him so resistless of his surpassing skill,
That at a stroke before him down fell dead the knight.
Him straight revenged Sir Hildebrand, as well beseem'd his might.

"Ah, my dear lord!" in anguish cried Master Hildebrand,
"Dost thou then here lie lifeless by Folker's bloody hand?
But hence, be sure, shall never this minstrel scathless go."
However could noble Hildebrand rush fiercer on a foe?

At once so smote he Folker with weapon sharp and true,
That to the walls on all sides a shower of shivers flew
From helm and eke from buckler like chaff before the blast.
Thereby the sturdy Folker came to his end at last.

At that, the men of Dietrich rush'd on from every side.
They slash'd, that links of hauberk went whirling far and wide,
And the snapp'd sword-points flicker'd with momentary gleam;
They drew from out the morions the smoking bloody stream.

Soon Hagan spied Sir Folker dead on the reeking floor;
Ne'er had he felt such anguish throughout the feast before
For kinsman lost or liegeman, as then his bosom shook.
Alas! for his slain comrade what dire revenge he took!

"Ne'er from me shall scathless go aged Hildebrand.
My helpmate lies before me, slain by the hero's hand.
Never had I comrade so valiant and so true."
He rais'd his shield, and forward slashing and hewing flew.

Just then the stalwart Helfrich slew Dankwart the good knight;
Gunther as well as Giselher, woe were they at the sight,
When down he fell, and, writhing, out panted his last breath.
He with his sword beforehand had well reveng'd his death.

What crowds soe'er had thither muster'd from many a land,
Beneath right puissant princes against their little band,
Weren't not that Christian people conspir'd to work their fall,
Their prowess well had kept them against the heathens all.

Meanwhile redoubted Wolfhart rush'd fiercely to and fro,
King Gunther's men down hewing with oft-repeated blow.
Thrice through that place of slaughter he cut his bloody way.
Before, behind, around him the dead and dying lay.

With that, the young Sir Giselher to the stern warrior cried,
"Woe's me that I should ever so fierce a foe abide!
Noble knight and fearless, turn thee now to me.
I'll help to end this matter; it must no longer be."

Wolfhart turn'd on Giselher soon as thus defied;
Each in that grim battle wounds cut gaping wide.
Upon the king fierce rushing so forcefully he sped,
The blood beneath his trampling flew high above his head.

The bold son of fair Uta with many a rapid blow
Received the furious onset of his redoubted foe;
Huge as was Wolfhart's puissance, boot it none could bring.
Ne'er was so brave a battle fought by so young a king.

At last through the good hauberk he smote Sir Dietrich's man,
That the blood, out-spurting, down in a torrent ran.
So to the death he wounded that high o'erweening one.
'Twas sure a peerless champion who such a deed had done.

Soon as fearless Wolfhart felt the deadly pain,
Down he dropp'd his buckler; with fierce hand amain
His huge sharp-cutting broadsword higher he heav'd in air;
Through helm at once and hauberk then smote he Giselher.

So they one another both of their lives bereft.
Now of all Dietrich's liegemen not a soul was left.
Hildebrand, the aged, dead saw Wolfhart fall;
Among his long life's sorrows that was the worst of all.

There in that hall of slaughter dead lay King Gunther's train,
Dead too the men of Dietrich. Sir Hildebrand amain
Ran where redoubted Wolfhart fall'n in the blood he found,
And cast his arms about him to lift him from the ground.

He drove his dying nephew forth from the house to bear,
But found his weight too mighty; he needs must leave him there.
Then from the blood the wounded a clouded glance upcast;
He saw that fain his uncle had help'd him at the last.

Then spake the fainting warrior, "Dear uncle, kind and true,
No more can it avail me whatever you can do.
But Oh! beware of Hagan; this seems me good to tell.
Heart had never champion so furious and so fell.

"And if my loving kinsmen would sorrow o'er my clay,
This to the best and nearest, dear uncle, of me say,
That I need no lamenting, that tears were better dried,
That 'twas a king that slew me, and gloriously I died.

"Besides, in this wild slaughter I've sold my life so dear,
That many a knight's pale lady 'twill cost full many a tear.
If any ask the question, straight let the truth be shown.
Here lie at least a hundred slain by this hand alone."

Just then redoubted Hagan upon the gleeman thought,
Whom the good knight Sir Hildebrand so late to death had brought.
Thus he bespake the conqueror, "You for my grief shall pay;
Of many a valiant champion you've robb'd us here to-day."

So struck he then at Hildebrand, that all at once might hear
'Twas Balmung there was sounding, the sword that he whilere
Had ta'en from noble Siegfried when he the hero slew.
Well was his onset warded by the graybeard stout and true.

Sir Dietrich's aged liegeman the fearful stroke repaid
With one that show'd, that he, too, wielded a griding blade;
Still from the man of Gunther no drop of blood he drew.
Sir Hagan with a second cut his good hauberk through.

Soon as aged Hildebrand felt the sharp gash aright,
He look'd for worse, by waiting, from Hagan's stormy might;
So o'er his back his buckler straight threw Sir Dietrich's man,
And swift, though sorely wounded, away from Hagan ran.

Now not a man was living of that Burgundian train
Gunther except, and Hagan, these the sole breathing twain.
Old Hildebrand thence hasted, with blood all dabbled o'er,
And to the noble Dietrich his sorry tidings bore.

Apart he found him sitting, solemn and sad of cheer;
What more might move his sorrow the prince had yet to hear.
Straight Hildebrand beheld he clad in his bloody mail;
He ask'd him of his tidings, yet fear'd to hear his tale.

"Now tell me, Master Hildebrand, what brings you here so wet
With life-blood? Who has done it? What mischief have you met?
I fear, you have been fighting in th' hall with yonder guests;
I earnestly forbade it; you should have kept your lord's behests."

Straight his lord he answer'd, "'Twas Hagan did it all;
This wound, that so is bleeding, he gave me in the hall,
As from the knight I turn'd me, and would have left the strife.
Scarce from that very devil have I escaped with life."

Him thus the Berner answer'd, "This mishap's your due;
You heard me promise friendship to yonder knightly crew,
And yet the peace I gave them you have presum'd to break,
Were it not beneath me, your life for it I'd take."

"Nay, my good Lord Dietrich, be not so wroth of mood;
To me and mine already has too much loss accrued.
We wish'd the noble Rudeger to take from where he died;
We ask'd the men of Gunther, and proudly were denied."

"Woe's me for this misfortune! Is Rudeger then dead?
Him must I wail forever; now I indeed am sped.
Woe for the Lady Gotelind! My cousin's child is she.
Woe, too, for the poor orphans that at Bechlaren be!"

The margrave's death impress'd him with pity and ruth so deep,
He could refrain no longer, but straight began to weep.
"Alas! My faithful comrade! Such loss I needs must rue.
Ne'er can I cease bewailing King Etzel's liegeman true.

"Come now, Master Hildebrand, the truth discover plain,
Tell me, who's the champion, who has the margrave slain."
Said he, "'Twas noble Gernot whose strength the margrave sped;
He by the hand of Rudeger in turn was stricken dead."

Then thus replied Sir Dietrich, "Thither will I anon;
So go and tell my warriors their armor straight to don,
And bid my glittering hauberk be brought me instantly;
I myself will question yon knights of Burgundy."

Then spake Master Hildebrand, "Whom would you have me call?
Of those who yet are living you see before you all;
I'm now your only soldier, the others they are dead."
Sore shudder'd then Sir Dietrich for dole and drearihead.

In all the world such ruin did ne'er the knight befall.
Said he, "If they have slaughtered my liegemen one and all,
Then I'm of God forgotten. Poor Dietrich! Lost am I,
Who was a king but lately so haughty and so high."

Then further spake the champion, "But how could this have passed?
How could such puissant warriors have perish'd to the last
By battle-wearied foemen, fainting and need-beset?
Sure, but through my ill-fortune they had been living yet.

"Since my hard fate condemns me to suffer every ill,
Tell me, of those grim strangers if one be living still."
Then answer'd Master Hildebrand, "God knows, their lives not one,
Save Hagan and King Gunther; the rest their course have run."

"Ah! woe is me, dear Wolfhart; since thou from me art torn,
Well may it repent me that ever I was born.
Siegstab, Wolfwine, and Wolfbrand, my true and trusty band!
Who back can ever help me to th' Amelungers' land?

"The danger-daring Helfrich, his doom has he too met?
Gerbart and valiant Wichart, how can I these forget?
My friends are dead together; who so bereft as I?
Ah! woe is me, that wretches of grief can never die."