Gudrun

When the guests were seated beside their kingly host, There came to them a player, and proudly made his boast That he, before all others, (who should indeed believe him?) Was far more skilled in playing, and even the greatest lords their ear must give him.

Outside, a lovely maiden was leading by the hand The little son of Sigeband who swayed the Irish land; With him were likewise women who to the boy gave heeding, And friendly kinsmen also, who carefully taught the child, and oversaw his breeding.

Within the great king’s palace was heard a din and shout; All were there heard laughing, the roomy walls throughout. The guardians of young Hagen crowded up too nearly, And thus lost sight of the maiden, together with the child they loved so dearly.

The evil luck of their master to him that day drew near, And brought to him and U-te sudden woe and fear. Sent by the wicked devil, from afar his herald hasted To them in their happy kingdom; they were by this with sorrow sorely wasted.

It was a strong, wild griffin had quickly thither flown; From the little boy of Sigeband, who ever care had known, Came ill luck to his father, who soon of this was tasting. His son, so well-belovèd, to him was lost, with the mighty bird far hasting.

A shadow now came o’er them, from wings that bore him fleet, As if a cloud had risen; great strength had the bird, I weet.

Their young they left on the hillside, with a neighbor grim, while they were hither hieing.

One day the goods of the sailors Hagen saw near the sea, For many had been drowned there; holy men were they. He thought, among the wreckage, food might still lie hidden; But, through fear of the wicked griffins, he softly crept to the shore, by hunger bidden.

No one could he find there, but a body in armor alone; Thereby the wild old griffin hard work would give him soon. Out from his armor he shook him, nor did he spurn to wear it: He found a bow and weapons, by its side, on the sandy shore, lying near it.

With these himself he girded, that simple little child; When in the air above him he heard a rushing wild. He wished that he had loitered, the sorry little master; But quickly came the griffin; to the sheltering cavern fain would he flee the faster.

The bird swung down in anger to the sandy beach and foam; The little playmate and fellow of the young it left at home, Would by the angry griffin have at once been swallowed; But now the bold young Hagen the ways of a daring foeman bravely followed.

He with strength but youthful the tightened string drew out, And arrows swift and many from the well-bent bow he shot. Alas! he did not hit him; what hope of his ill-luck turning? Then he of the sword bethought him; he heard the maids bewailing him and mourning.

Then came a fencing-master, and began his craft to show To Wâ-te, the daring fighter; in him he found a foe Who fear for his life soon gave him. Wâ-te his onset parried, With all the skill of a fencer. The face of Fru-te the Dane a smile now carried.

To save himself, the teacher gave a spring as wide As doth an untamed leopard. Wâ-te his weapon plied, And in his hand it clattered, until the fire-sparks glistened Upon his foeman’s buckler; he well might thank the youth who to him had listened.

Then said the king, wild Hagen: “Give me the sword in hand. I will take a little pastime with him of the Sturmisch land; I will be his teacher, and he my four strokes be learning. He for this will thank me.” Soon was the king high praise from Wâ-te earning.

To him old Wâ-te answered: “A pledge I now must hear That I from you, great Hagen, no guile soe’er may fear; Should I by you be wounded, with ladies’ scorn shall I redden.” In the fight was Wâ-te nimble; such quickness to believe should none be bidden.

The simple, untaught fencer smote Hagen many a blow; Till, like a wet brand steaming, was the king before his foe. The learner outdid his teacher: well his strength he boasted. The host laid strokes unnumbered upon the guest, who in his skill had trusted.

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.

After they long had waited, now saw these washers lone Two in a boat fast nearing; others were there none. Then said the maiden, Hildeburg, unto Gudrun, the lady: “These two are sailing hither; perhaps the friends sent here are come already.”

She, full of sorrow, answered: “Ah, woe is me, poor maid! Although, in truth I’m happy, I yet am also sad. If at the seaside washing Queen Hilda’s men shall see us, Standing thus barefooted, we from the shame of this can never free us.

“A poor, unhappy woman, I know not what to do: Hildeburg, my dearest, your mind now let me know; To hide me were it better, or shall I stay to shame me When they shall find me toiling? Rather would I that they a drudge should name me.”

Then said the maiden Hildeburg: “E’en how it stands you see; A thing that is so weighty you should not leave to me, Whate’er you think the better, your choice will I be sharing; With you I’ll stay forever, both good, and ill together with you bearing.”

Then from the water turning, both fled away in haste; But now the boat of the sailors had neared the land so fast, They saw the lovely washers, away from the seashore hieing, And at once bethought them that they for shame away from the clothes were flying.

They called unto the maidens, as they sprang upon the beach: “Whither so fast are you fleeing, fair washers, we beseech? We are far-off wanderers, as well our looks are showing; Your linen may be stolen, if you leave it here, and from us in haste are going.”