Song and Legend From the Middle Ages [40]
thus the warrior said; "E'en to thy wish this business thou to an end hast brought, To such an end, moreover, as Hagan ever thought.
Now the brave king Gunther of Burgundy is dead Young Giselher and eke Gernot alike with him are sped; So now, where lies the treasure, none knows save God and me, And told shall it be never, be sure, she-fiend! to thee."
Said she, "ill hast thou quitted a debt so deadly scor'd; At least in my possession I'll keep my Siegfried's sword. My lord and lover bore it, when last I saw him go. For him woe wring my bosom, that pass'd all other woe."
Forth from the sheath she drew it; that could not be prevent; At once to slay the champion was Kriemhild's stern intent. High with both hands she heav'd it, and off his head did smite. That was seen of king Etzel; he shudder'd at the sight.
"Ah!" cried the prince impassion'd, "harrow and welaway! That the hand of a woman the noblest knight should slay, That e'er struck stroke in battle, or ever buckler bore! Albeit I was his foeman, needs must I sorrow sore."
Then said the aged Hildebrand, "let not her boast of gain, In that by her contrivance this noble chief was slain. Though to sore strait he brought me, let ruin on me light, But I will take full vengeance for Trony's murdered knight."
Hildebrand the aged fierce on Kriemhild sprung: To the death he smote her as his sword he swung. Sudden and remorseless he his wrath did wreak. What could then avail her her fearful thrilling shriek?
There now the dreary corpses stretch'd all around were seen; There lay, hewn in pieces, the fair and noble queen. Sir Dietrich and king Etzel, their tears began to start; For kinsmen and for vassals each sorrow'd in his heart.
The mighty and the noble there lay together dead; For this had all the people dole and drearihead. The feast of royal Etzel was thus shut up in woe. Pain in the steps of Pleasure treads ever here below.
'Tis more than I can tell you what afterwards befell, Save that there was weeping for friends belov'd so well; Knights and squires, dames and damsels, were seen lamenting all, So here I end my story. This is THE NIBELUNGERS' FALL.
--Tr. by Littsom.
ROMANCES.
As elsewhere in Europe, the twelfth and thirteenth centuries in Germany produced numberless romances. These may be classed under (1) Romances of Arthur, (2) Romances of the Holy Graal, (3) Romances of Antiquity, and (4) Romances of Love and Chivalry. The chief poets of romances were Hartmann von Aue, Gottfried von Strassburg, and Wolfram von Eschenbach. A good example of the romance of love is "Der Arme Heinrich of Hartmann von Aue". "Poor Henry", to quote Scherer, "is a kind of Job, a man of noble birth; rich, handsome, and beloved, who is suddenly visited by God with the terrible affliction of leprosy,and who can be cured only by the lifeblood of a young maiden who is willing to die for him. The daughter of a peasant, to whose house he has retired in his despair, resolves to sacrifiice her life for him. Heinrich accepts her offer, and the knife to kill her is already whetted, when a better feeling arises in his breast, and he refuses to take upon himself the guilt of her death, resolving to resign himself to the will of God. This resignation saves him; he recovers and marries the maiden." Our extracts are from the first and last of the poem.
HENRY THE LEPER. Ll. 1-131.--
Once on a time, rhymeth the rhyme, In Swabia land once on a time, There was a nobleman so journeying, Unto whose nobleness everything Of virtue and high-hearted excellence Worthy his line and his high pretense With plentiful measure was meted out: The land rejoiced in him round about. He was like a prince in his governing-- In his, wealth he was like a king; But most of all by the fame far-flown Of his great knightliness was he known, North and south, upon land and sea. By his name he was Henry of the Lea. All things whereby the truth grew dim Were held as hateful foes with him: By solemn oath was he bounden fast To shun them while his life should last. In honour all his days went by:
Now the brave king Gunther of Burgundy is dead Young Giselher and eke Gernot alike with him are sped; So now, where lies the treasure, none knows save God and me, And told shall it be never, be sure, she-fiend! to thee."
Said she, "ill hast thou quitted a debt so deadly scor'd; At least in my possession I'll keep my Siegfried's sword. My lord and lover bore it, when last I saw him go. For him woe wring my bosom, that pass'd all other woe."
Forth from the sheath she drew it; that could not be prevent; At once to slay the champion was Kriemhild's stern intent. High with both hands she heav'd it, and off his head did smite. That was seen of king Etzel; he shudder'd at the sight.
"Ah!" cried the prince impassion'd, "harrow and welaway! That the hand of a woman the noblest knight should slay, That e'er struck stroke in battle, or ever buckler bore! Albeit I was his foeman, needs must I sorrow sore."
Then said the aged Hildebrand, "let not her boast of gain, In that by her contrivance this noble chief was slain. Though to sore strait he brought me, let ruin on me light, But I will take full vengeance for Trony's murdered knight."
Hildebrand the aged fierce on Kriemhild sprung: To the death he smote her as his sword he swung. Sudden and remorseless he his wrath did wreak. What could then avail her her fearful thrilling shriek?
There now the dreary corpses stretch'd all around were seen; There lay, hewn in pieces, the fair and noble queen. Sir Dietrich and king Etzel, their tears began to start; For kinsmen and for vassals each sorrow'd in his heart.
The mighty and the noble there lay together dead; For this had all the people dole and drearihead. The feast of royal Etzel was thus shut up in woe. Pain in the steps of Pleasure treads ever here below.
'Tis more than I can tell you what afterwards befell, Save that there was weeping for friends belov'd so well; Knights and squires, dames and damsels, were seen lamenting all, So here I end my story. This is THE NIBELUNGERS' FALL.
--Tr. by Littsom.
ROMANCES.
As elsewhere in Europe, the twelfth and thirteenth centuries in Germany produced numberless romances. These may be classed under (1) Romances of Arthur, (2) Romances of the Holy Graal, (3) Romances of Antiquity, and (4) Romances of Love and Chivalry. The chief poets of romances were Hartmann von Aue, Gottfried von Strassburg, and Wolfram von Eschenbach. A good example of the romance of love is "Der Arme Heinrich of Hartmann von Aue". "Poor Henry", to quote Scherer, "is a kind of Job, a man of noble birth; rich, handsome, and beloved, who is suddenly visited by God with the terrible affliction of leprosy,and who can be cured only by the lifeblood of a young maiden who is willing to die for him. The daughter of a peasant, to whose house he has retired in his despair, resolves to sacrifiice her life for him. Heinrich accepts her offer, and the knife to kill her is already whetted, when a better feeling arises in his breast, and he refuses to take upon himself the guilt of her death, resolving to resign himself to the will of God. This resignation saves him; he recovers and marries the maiden." Our extracts are from the first and last of the poem.
HENRY THE LEPER. Ll. 1-131.--
Once on a time, rhymeth the rhyme, In Swabia land once on a time, There was a nobleman so journeying, Unto whose nobleness everything Of virtue and high-hearted excellence Worthy his line and his high pretense With plentiful measure was meted out: The land rejoiced in him round about. He was like a prince in his governing-- In his, wealth he was like a king; But most of all by the fame far-flown Of his great knightliness was he known, North and south, upon land and sea. By his name he was Henry of the Lea. All things whereby the truth grew dim Were held as hateful foes with him: By solemn oath was he bounden fast To shun them while his life should last. In honour all his days went by: