Song and Legend From the Middle Ages [36]
Siegfried gaily consents, and boasts that he will run with all his clothing and his weapons upon him.
Stanzas 1005-1029. King Gunther and Sir Hagan to strip were nothing slow; Both for the race stood ready in shirts as white as snow. Long bounds, like two wild panthers o'er the grass they took, But seen was noble Siegfried before them at the brook.
Whate'er he did, the warrior high o'er his fellows soar'd. Now laid he down his quiver, and quick ungirt his sword. Against,the spreading linden he lean'd his mighty spear. So by the brook stood waiting the chief without a peer.
In every lofty virtue none with Sir Siegfried vied. Down he laid his buckler by the water's side. For all the thirst that parch'd him, one drop he never drank Till the king had finished; he had full evil thank.
Cool was the little runnel, and sparkled clear as glass. O'er the rill king Gunther knelt down upon the grass. When he his draught had taken, he rose and stepp'd aside. Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.
Dear paid he for his courtesy; his bow, his matchless blade, His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord convey'd, Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear, And to find out the token survey'd his vesture near;
Then, as to drink Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found, He pierc'd him through the croslet, that sudden from the wound Forth the life-blood spouted e'en o'er his murderer's weed. Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.
Between his shoulders sticking he left the deadly spear. Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear, As from the matchless champion whom he had butcher'd there. Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware,
Up he from the runnel started, as he were wood Out from betwixt his shoulders his own hugh boar-spear stood. He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true. The traitor for his treason had then receiv'd his due.
But, ah! the deadly-wounded nor sword nor quiver found; His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground. This from the bank he lifted and straight at Hagan ran; Him could not then by fleetness escape king Gunther's man.
E'en to the death though wounded, he hurl'd it with such power, That the whirling buckler scatter'd wide a shower Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke. Full gladly had the warrior then vengeance with that stroke.
E'en as it was, his manhood fierce Hagan level'd low. Loud, all around, the meadow rang with the wondrous blow. Had he in hand good Balmung, the murderer he had slain. His wound was sore upon him; he writh'd in mortal pain;
His lively colour faded; a cloud came o'er his sight: He could stand no longer; melted all his might; In his paling visage the mark of death he bore. Soon many a lovely lady sorrow'd for him sore.
So the lord of Kriemhild araong the flowerets fell. From the wound fresh gushing his heart's blood fast did well. Then thus amidst his tortures, e'en with his failing breath, The false friends he upbraided who had contriv'd his death.
Thus spake the deadly-wounded, "Ay! cowards false as hell! To you I still was faithful; I serv'd you long and well; But what boots all?--for guerdon treason and death I've won. By your friends, vile traitors! foully have you done.
Whoever shall hereafter from your loins be born, Shall take from such vile fathers a heritage of scorn. On me you have wreak'd malice where gratitude was due. With shame shall you be banish'd by all good knights and true."
Thither ran all the warriors where in his blood he lay. To many of that party sure it was a joyless day. Whoever were true and faithful, they sorrow'd for his fall. So much the peerless champion had merited of all.
With them the false king Gunther bewept his timeless end. Then spake the deadly-wounded; "little it boots your friend Yourself to plot his murder, and then the deed deplore. Such is a shameful sorrow; better at once it were o'er."
Then spake the low'ring Hagan, "I know not why you moan. Our cares all and suspicions are now for ever flown.
Stanzas 1005-1029. King Gunther and Sir Hagan to strip were nothing slow; Both for the race stood ready in shirts as white as snow. Long bounds, like two wild panthers o'er the grass they took, But seen was noble Siegfried before them at the brook.
Whate'er he did, the warrior high o'er his fellows soar'd. Now laid he down his quiver, and quick ungirt his sword. Against,the spreading linden he lean'd his mighty spear. So by the brook stood waiting the chief without a peer.
In every lofty virtue none with Sir Siegfried vied. Down he laid his buckler by the water's side. For all the thirst that parch'd him, one drop he never drank Till the king had finished; he had full evil thank.
Cool was the little runnel, and sparkled clear as glass. O'er the rill king Gunther knelt down upon the grass. When he his draught had taken, he rose and stepp'd aside. Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.
Dear paid he for his courtesy; his bow, his matchless blade, His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord convey'd, Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear, And to find out the token survey'd his vesture near;
Then, as to drink Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found, He pierc'd him through the croslet, that sudden from the wound Forth the life-blood spouted e'en o'er his murderer's weed. Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.
Between his shoulders sticking he left the deadly spear. Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear, As from the matchless champion whom he had butcher'd there. Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware,
Up he from the runnel started, as he were wood Out from betwixt his shoulders his own hugh boar-spear stood. He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true. The traitor for his treason had then receiv'd his due.
But, ah! the deadly-wounded nor sword nor quiver found; His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground. This from the bank he lifted and straight at Hagan ran; Him could not then by fleetness escape king Gunther's man.
E'en to the death though wounded, he hurl'd it with such power, That the whirling buckler scatter'd wide a shower Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke. Full gladly had the warrior then vengeance with that stroke.
E'en as it was, his manhood fierce Hagan level'd low. Loud, all around, the meadow rang with the wondrous blow. Had he in hand good Balmung, the murderer he had slain. His wound was sore upon him; he writh'd in mortal pain;
His lively colour faded; a cloud came o'er his sight: He could stand no longer; melted all his might; In his paling visage the mark of death he bore. Soon many a lovely lady sorrow'd for him sore.
So the lord of Kriemhild araong the flowerets fell. From the wound fresh gushing his heart's blood fast did well. Then thus amidst his tortures, e'en with his failing breath, The false friends he upbraided who had contriv'd his death.
Thus spake the deadly-wounded, "Ay! cowards false as hell! To you I still was faithful; I serv'd you long and well; But what boots all?--for guerdon treason and death I've won. By your friends, vile traitors! foully have you done.
Whoever shall hereafter from your loins be born, Shall take from such vile fathers a heritage of scorn. On me you have wreak'd malice where gratitude was due. With shame shall you be banish'd by all good knights and true."
Thither ran all the warriors where in his blood he lay. To many of that party sure it was a joyless day. Whoever were true and faithful, they sorrow'd for his fall. So much the peerless champion had merited of all.
With them the false king Gunther bewept his timeless end. Then spake the deadly-wounded; "little it boots your friend Yourself to plot his murder, and then the deed deplore. Such is a shameful sorrow; better at once it were o'er."
Then spake the low'ring Hagan, "I know not why you moan. Our cares all and suspicions are now for ever flown.