The Nibelungenlied

1

To us, in olden legends, is many a marvel told Of praise-deserving heroes, of labours manifold, Of weeping and of wailing, of joy and festival; Ye shall of bold knights’ battling now hear a wondrous tale.

2

A very noble maiden grew up in Burgundy; Than hers no greater beauty in any land might be: The maid was called Kriemhilda⁠— a woman passing fair⁠— For whose sake many a warrior his life must needs forbear.

3

To love that lovely maiden seem’d but to be her due; None bore her spite, and many did for her favour sue. Fair were beyond all measure her noble form and face: Her virtues were sufficient all womankind to grace.

4

Three noble kings and wealthy guarded her as their own: Sir Gunther and Sir Gernot, for deeds of honour known, And Giselher the youngest, a gallant warrior he: The lady was the sister and ward of all the three.

86

“And,” furthermore said Hagen, “though hitherto, I ween The famous hero Siegfried, mine eyes have never seen, I cannot help believing, how strange soe’er it be, That yon proud knight, there standing, can be none else but he!

87

“He bringeth us new tidings, here into this our land. The hardy Niblungs slew he with his own hero-hand, Both Nibelung and Schilbung, the sons of a rich king. He hath wrought mighty wonders, by sheer strength vanquishing.

88

“For riding once, all lonely, and with no help at hand, He came unto a mountain, (as I did understand,) Where lay the Niblungs’ treasure, well watched by doughty men, Who all were strangers to him, until he met them then.

89

“The treasure of the Niblungs had just been taken then Out of a hollow mountain⁠— (Now hearken, my good men!) While as the Niblung warriors to share it did prepare, Young Siegfried came, and saw them: and had good cause to stare.

She spake: “O knight most noble, you best had let me be, For that which might content you you ne’er will get from me! I will remain a maiden⁠— you may be sure of that⁠— Until I learn the story.” That made her Gunther hate.

636

He tried to wring love from her, and, striving, tore her dress. Whereat she seized a girdle⁠— this masterful princess; It was a cord well-twisted, which round the hips she wore. Then to the king full measure she gave of anguish sore.

637

His feet and hands together she fasten’d therewithal; Then to a nail she bore him, and hung him on the wall! Because her sleep he hinder’d, to him she love forbad: Her strength, in sooth, was such that his death he well-nigh had.

638

Then fell he to beseeching, who master should have been: “Loose now my bonds, I pray you, most good and noble queen! I’ll take an oath, fair lady, you never to constrain; And never will I lay me so nigh to you again.”

Thereon the king’s wife answer’d: “I will not let it be! Why should I yield my claim to so many a good knight’s fee, Who, like the thane, thy husband, doth suit and service owe?” At this the beauteous Kriemhild began with wrath to glow.

824

“The thought thou must abandon, that he to thee did e’er Owe any kind of service; he is far worthier Than is my brother Gunther⁠— right noble though he be. Withdraw me now this saying that I have heard from thee!

825

“I cannot choose but wonder, since he thy vassal is, And thou o’er our two persons hast mastery like this, That he his dues unto you hath set so long aside! With right do I demur to thine overweening pride.”

826

“Thou ratest thyself too highly!” the king’s wife answer’d then, “Now will I gladly prove me whether thou hast of men As much respect and honour as they accord to me!” By this time both the ladies were wrathful as could be.

827

Then cried the Lady Kriemhild: “This must at once be seen! If that my lord’s thy vassal, as thou hast sworn, O queen, To-day must I the liegemen of both the kings let know Whether before the king’s wife to church I dare to go.

1,

The overweening Hagen across his knees laid down A bare and shining weapon, upon whose pommel shone A very brilliant jasper, greener than any sward. Kriemhilda well remember’d that it was Siegfried’s sword.

1,

When she that sword remember’d a grief it needs must be; The hilt of it was golden, its sheath red broidery. It brought to mind her sorrow; her tears began to fall; I ween the hardy Hagen had therefor done it all.

1,

Upon the bench towards him the valiant Volker drew A fiddle-bow, a strong one, and long and mighty, too, Which to a sword had likeness, right keen and broad of blade The pair of doughty heroes thus sat there undismay’d.

1,

The valiant twain so lordly seem’d, in their own conceit, They did not deem it fitting to stand up from their seat For fear of man or woman. Whereon, with foe-like mien, Nigh to their feet, to greet them, came up the noble queen.

1,

She spake: “Now tell me, Hagen, who sent to bid you here, That riding in our country thou darest to appear? Thou, too, who so well knowest what thou hast done to me? Hadst thou been well advisèd thou best hadst let it be.”