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Fall of the Nibelungs

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<h2>Twenty-Seventh Adventure How They Came to Bechlaren</h2> The Margrave went to find his wife and daughter, and told them the good news that he had heard, how that their queen’s brethren were coming to the house. “Dear love,” said Rudeger, “receive the high and noble kings well when they come here with their followers. Hagen, Gunther’s man, thou shalt also greet fair. There is one with them that hight Dankwart; another hight Folker, a man of much worship. These six thou shalt kiss—thou and my daughter. Entreat the warriors courteously.” The women promised it, nothing loth. They took goodly apparel from their chests, wherein to meet the knights. The fair women made haste enow. Their cheeks needed little false colour. They wore fillets of bright gold on their heads, fashioned like rich wreaths, that the wind might not ruffle their beautiful hair. They were dainty and fresh. Now leave we the women busied on this wise. There was mickle spurring across the plain among Rudeger’s friends till they found the princes. These were well received in the Margrave’s land. Rudeger cried joyfully as he went toward them, “Ye be welcome, ye knights, and all your men. Right glad am I to see you in my home.” The warriors thanked him with true heart void of hate. He showed them plainly they were welcome. To Hagen he gave special greeting, for he knew him from aforetime. He did the same to Folker of Burgundy. He welcomed Dankwart also. Then said that knight, “If thou take us in, who will see to our followers from Worms beyond the Rhine?” The Margrave answered, “Have no fear on that head. All that ye have with you, horses, silver and apparel, shall be so well guarded that ye shall not lose a single spur thereof. Pitch your tents in the fields, ye squires. Whatso ye lose here I will make good to you. Off with the bridles, and let the horses go loose.” Never before had host done this for them. Glad enow were the guests. When they had obeyed him, and the knights had ridden away, the squires laid them down on the grass over all, and took their ease. It was their softest rest on the whole journey. The noble Margravine came out before the castle with her beautiful daughter. Lovely women and fair maids not a few stood beside her, adorned with bracelets and fine apparel. Precious stones sparked bright on their rich vesture. Goodly was their raiment. The guests rode up and sprang to the ground. Ha! courteous men all were they of Burgundy! Six and thirty maidens and many women beside, fair to heart’s desire, came forth to meet them, with bold men in plenty. The noble women welcomed them sweetly. The Margravine kissed the kings all three. Her daughter did the like. Hagen stood by. Him also her father bade her kiss. She looked up at him, and he was so grim that she had gladly let it be. Yet must she do as the host bade her. Her colour came and went, white and red. She kissed Dankwart, too, and, after him, the fiddler. By reason of his body’s strength he won this greeting. Then the young Margravine took Giselher, the youth, of Burgundy by the hand. Her mother did the same to Gunther, and they went in merrily with the heroes. The host led Gernot into a wide hall. There knights and ladies sat down, and good wine was poured out for the guests. Never were warriors better entreated. Rudeger’s daughter was looked at with loving eyes, she was so fair; and many a good knight loved her in his heart. And well they might, for she was an high-hearted maiden. But their thoughts were vain: it could not be. They kept spying at the women, whereof many sat round. Now the fiddler was well-minded to Rudeger. Women and knights were parted then, as was the custom, and went into separate rooms. The table was made ready in the great hall, and willing service was done to the strangers. To show love to the guests, the Margravine went to table with them. She left her daughter with the damsels, as was seemly, albeit it irked the guests to see her no longer. When they had all drunk and eaten, they brought the fair ones into the hall again, and there was no lack of sweet words. Folker, a knight bold and good, spake plenty of them. This same fiddler said openly, “Great Margrave, God hath done well by thee, for He hath given thee a right beautiful wife, and happy days. Were I a king,” said the minstrel, “and wore a crown, I would choose thy sweet daughter for my queen. She would be the choice of my heart, for she is fair to look upon, and, thereto, noble and good.” The Margrave answered, “How should a king covet my dear daughter? My wife and I are both strangers here, and have naught to give. What availeth then her beauty?” But said Gernot, the courteous man, “Might I choose where I would, such a wife were my heart’s desire.” Then said Hagen graciously, “It is time Giselher wedded. Of such high lineage is the noble Margravine, that we would gladly serve her, I and his men, if she wore the crown in Burgundy.” The word pleased both Rudeger and Gotelind greatly. Their hearts were uplifted. So it was agreed among the heroes that noble Giselher should take her to wife; the which a king might well do without shame. If a thing be right, who can withstand it? They bade the maiden before them, and they swore to give her to him, whereupon he vowed to cherish her. They gave her castles and lands for her share. The king and Gernot sware with the hand that it should be even as they had promised. Then said the Margrave, “Since I have no castles, I can only prove me your true friend evermore. I will give my daughter as much silver and gold as an hundred sumpters may carry, that ye warriors may, with honour, be content.” Then the twain were put in a circle, as the custom was. Many a young knight stood opposite in merry mood, and thought in his heart as young folk will. They asked the lovely maiden if she would have the hero. She was half sorry, yet her heart inclined to the goodly man. She was shamefast at the question, as many a maid hath been. Rudeger her father counselled her to say “yes,” and to take him gladly. Giselher, the youth, was not slow to clasp her to him with his white hands. Yet how little while she had him! Then said the Margrave, “Great and noble kings, I will give you my child to take with you, for this were fittest, when ye ride home again into your land.” And it was so agreed. The din of tourney was bidden cease. The damsels were sent to their chambers, and the guests to sleep and to take their rest till the day. Then meats were made ready, for their host saw well to their comfort. When they had eaten, they would have set out again for the country of the Huns, but Rudeger said, “Go not, I pray you. Tarry here yet a while, for I had never dearer guests.” Dankwart answered, “It may not be. Where couldst thou find the meat, the bread and the wine, for so many knights?” But when the host heard him, he said, “Speak not of that. Deny me not, my dear lords. I can give you, and all them that are with you, meat for fourteen days. Little hath King Etzel ever taken of my substance.” Albeit they made excuse, they had to tarry till the fourth morning. He gave both horses and apparel so freely, that the fame of it spread abroad. But longer than this it could not last, for they must needs forth. Rudeger was not sparing of his goods. If any craved for aught, none denied him. Each got his desire. The attendants brought the saddled horses to the door. There many stranger knights joined them, shield in hand, to ride with them to Etzel’s court. To each of the noble guests Rudeger offered a gift, or he left the hall. He had wherewithal to live in honour and give freely. Upon Giselher he had bestowed his fair daughter. He gave to Gernot a goodly weapon enow, that he wielded well afterward in strife. The Margrave’s wife grudged him not the gift, yet Rudeger, or long, was slain thereby. To Gunther, the valiant knight, he gave a coat of mail, that did the rich king honour, albeit he seldom took gifts. He bowed before Rudeger and thanked him. Gotelind offered Hagen a fair gift, as was fitting, since the king had taken one, that he might not fare to the hightide without a keepsake from her, but he refused. “Naught that I ever saw would I so fain bear away with me as yonder shield on the wall. I would gladly carry it into Etzel’s land.” When the Margravine heard Hagen’s word, it minded her on her sorrow, and she fell to weeping. She thought sadly on the death of Nudung, that Wittich had slain; and her heart was heavy. She said to the knight, “I will give thee the shield. Would to God he yet lived that once bore it! He died in battle. I must ever weep when I think on him, for my woman’s heart is sore.” The noble Margravine rose from her seat, and took down the shield with her white hands and carried it to Hagen, that used it as a hero should. A covering of bright stuff lay over its device. The light never shone on better shield. It was so rich with precious stones, that had any wanted to buy it, it had cost him at the least a thousand marks. The knight bade his attendants bear it away. Then came his brother Dankwart, to whom the Margrave’s daughter gave richly broidered apparel, that afterward he wore merrily among the Huns. None had touched any of these things but for love of the host that offered them so kindly. Yet, or long, they bare him such hate that they slew him. Bold Folker then stepped forth with knightly bearing and stood before Gotelind with his viol. He played a sweet tune and sang her his song. Then he took his leave and left Bechlaren. But first the Margravine bade them bring a drawer near. Of loving gifts now hear the tale. She took therefrom twelve armlets, and drew them over his hand, saying, “These shalt thou take with thee and wear for my sake at Etzel’s court. When thou comest again, I will hear how thou hast served me at the hightide.” Well he did her behest. The host said to the guests, “That ye may journey the safer, I will myself escort you, and see that none fall on you by the way.” And forthwith they loaded his sumpter. He stood ready for the road with five hundred men, mounted and equipped. These he led merrily to the hightide. Not one of them came back alive to Bechlaren. He took leave with sweet kisses. The same did Giselher, as love bade him. They took the fair women in their arms. Or long, many a damsel wept for them. The windows were flung wide over all, for the host and his men were gotten to horse. Their hearts, I ween, foreboded their bitter woe, and many a wife and many a maiden wept sore. They sorrowed for many a dear friend that was never seen more at Bechlaren. Yet merrily they rode down the valley by the Danube into the land of the Huns. Then said noble Rudeger to the Burgundians, “We must delay no longer to send news of our advance. Nothing could rejoice King Etzel more.” The swift envoys pressed down through Austria, and soon the folk knew, far and near, that the heroes were on their way from Worms beyond the Rhine. It was welcome news to the king’s vassals. The envoys spurred forward with the tidings that the Nibelungs were come to the Huns. “Receive them well, Kriemhild, my wife. Thy brethren are come to show thee great honour.” Kriemhild stood at a window and looked out as a friend might for friends. Many drew thither from her father’s land. The king was joyful when he heard the news. “Glad am I,” said Kriemhild, “my kinsmen come with many new shields and shining bucklers. I will ever be his friend that taketh my gold and remembereth my wrong.” She thought in her heart, “Now for the reckoning! If I can contrive it, it will go hard at this hightide with him that killed all my happiness. Fain would I work his doom. I care not what may come of it: my vengeance shall fall on the hateful body of him that stole my joy from me. He shall pay dear for my sorrow.” <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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