Chapter VI: Part 6

[886]
Soon, in the dark, on Horant a Danish follower sprang;
The sword that he was holding loud on the armor rang:
Thinking he was a foeman, Horant at once upon him
Wrought most bitter sorrow: a deadly wound by that warrior brave was
done him.

[887]
When Horant saw that his kinsman beneath his blow lay dead,
Then he bade that his banner be borne with his own o’erhead.
The voice of him who was dying told whose life he had taken
With his hand so rashly; sorely he mourned the friend who never
would waken.

[888]
Loudly called out Herwic: “Murder here is done!
Since we can see no longer, and daylight now is gone,
We all shall kill each other, friends and foes together.
If this shall last till morning, two may be left to fight, but not
another.”

[889]
Where’er they saw old Wâ-te on the stormy fighting-ground,
No one there was willing near him to be found;
No welcome, in his madness, was he to any giving:
Many a foe he wounded, and laid on the spot that he would ne’er be
leaving.

[890]
’Twas well the foes were sundered until the break of day;
On either side the foemen near each other lay,
Wounded to death or slaughtered. Fast the light was waning,
Not yet the moon was risen, and the Hegeling foe the field were
nowhere gaining.

[891]
The warriors grim, unwillingly, to the strife now put a stop;
The hands of all were weary ere they gave the struggle up:
But, when the fight was over, they near each other loitered.
Wherever fires were burning, for each the other’s shields and
helmets glittered.

[892]
Ludwig then and Hartmut, lords of the Norman land,
Talked aside together. Then to his faithful band
Spake the elder warrior: “Why be longer staying
So near the brave old Wâ-te, who all of us is madly bent on
slaying?”

[893]
The wily king then bade them: “Lie low, and be not seen,
With your heads upon your bucklers: you then must make a din;
And so the men of the Hegelings my plan will not be knowing,—
That, if I now can do it, I with you all may hence unseen be going.”

[894]
Ludwig’s men and kinsmen did as he had said:
They upon their sackbuts and trumpets loudly played,
As if they, by their prowess, the land had gained them wholly.
Ludwig now to his followers showed his crafty plot and cunning
fully.

[895]
Then were heard, on all sides, mingled shouts and cries;
But wailing from the maidens was not allowed to rise:
All who would not stop it were threatened death by drowning,—
To be sunk beneath the waters,— if they were sobbing heard, or
loudly moaning.

[896]
Whate’er was owned by the Normans now to the ships was ta’en;
The dead were there left lying, e’en where they were slain.
Friends were lost to many who, seeking, could not find them:
So few there were still living, that many an empty ship was left
behind them.

[897]
Thus unbeknown and slyly, sailed away o’er the main
The men of the land of Normandy; great was the women’s pain
From kinsfolk to be sundered, and yet to hush their weeping.
Of this the men knew nothing who now upon the Wulpensand were
sleeping.

[898]
Before the day was dawning, well were on their way
They whom the Danish warriors had thought that morn to slay.
Then Wâ-te bade that loudly his war-horn should be sounded;
He was in haste to follow, and hoped erelong to fell them, deeply
wounded.

[899]
On foot and on their horses, the men of the Hegeling land
All were seen together, flocking o’er the sand,
To fight the fleeing Normans; never in this they rested.
Ludwig with his followers already far upon their way had hasted.

[900]
Many ships lay empty, and clothing there was found;
All about the Wulpensand ’twas scattered o’er the ground;
Many weapons also were seen, with none to bear them.
They had overslept their going, and never to harm their foes could
they come near them.

[901]
When this was told to Wâ-te, with anger he was torn:
How for the death of Hettel he bitterly did mourn!
And that on Ludwig’s body his wrath he was not wreaking!
Helmets there lay shattered; for this must many a woman’s heart be
aching.

[902]
How gloomily and sadly now, in angry mood,
Ortwin was bewailing the loss of his warriors good!
He said: “Rouse up, my fighters! we may perhaps o’ertake them
Before they leave these waters; not far from shore we yet in flight
may check them.”

[903]
Willingly old Wâ-te would his bidding do:
Fru-te the winds was watching, to learn which way they blew.
Then said he to his kinsmen: “What helps it though we hasten?
Mark what now I tell you: the thirty miles they’ve gained we ne’er
can lessen.

[904]
“Moreover, we of fighters have not here enough
That we in aught can harm them, e’en should we now set off:
Scorn me not,” said Fru-te, “and to my words give heeding;
What more to say is needful? Your foes you cannot reach, howe’er
you’re speeding.

[905]
“Bid that now the wounded upon the ships be laid;
Then on the field of battle let search for the dead be made,
And bid that they be buried upon this strand forsaken,
So friends may rest together; this good at least from them should
not be taken.”

[906]
All, standing there together, wringing their hands were seen.
For this one sorrow only, would their lot have hapless been,—
To lose the youthful maiden, Hilda’s lovely daughter.
How, when they saw her mother, if home they went, could news so sad
be brought her?

[907]
Then to them said Morunc: “Would there were nothing more,
Beyond our own sad losses, for which our hearts are sore!
Small reward will be given for the news we home shall carry,
That Hettel dead is lying: far from Hilda fain would I longer
tarry.”

[908]
Then went the warriors searching for the dead upon the sand.
Those they knew were Christians who lay upon the strand,
As the Sturmisch Wâ-te bade them, were all together carried;
Then both the old and the younger chose a spot whereon the dead were
buried.

[909]
Then said the knight, young Ortwin: “Let us bury them here;
And thought must we be taking to build a church full near,
That they be not forgotten, while this their end is showing.
For it shall all their kinsmen give of their wealth, each one his
share bestowing.”

[910]
Then spake the Sturmisch Wâ-te: “In this thou well hast said;
We now should sell the horses and the clothing of the dead,
Who on the shore are lying; so, since their life is ended,
Shall many poor and needy, with the wealth they left, be holpen and
befriended.”

[911]
Then asked the warrior Irold, if foes who there lay dead
Should also now be buried, or if wolves should on them feed,
And hungry ravens tear them, that round their bodies hovered?
Then to the wise they listened; none of the dead were left on the
field uncovered.

[912]
When now the fight was over, and all were free from care,
Hettel, their king, they buried, who for his daughter dear,
Upon this barren seashore, e’en unto death had striven.
To others who had fallen, whate’er their land and name, was burial
given.

[913]
First, the men from Moorland each by himself they laid;
The same was done for the Hegelings found among the dead;
Unto the Normans, also, gave they graves allotted:
Alone was each one buried, if Christian he were or heathen, it
nothing booted.

[914]
Until six days were over, busy were they, at their best,
And never time were finding (for the warriors took no rest)
To ask for dead and dying the grace of God in heaven,
For sins of which they were guilty; that they for their misdeeds
should be forgiven.

[915]
Saying mass and singing were later heard on the strand.
Never was God so worshipped, in any other land,
For the dead in stormy fighting. Wherever men were lying
With their death-wounds smitten, holy priests they brought to shrive
the dying.

[916]
Many there did tarry to care for the churchly men.
A deed of gift was written, wherein it could be seen
How of land to the brothers three hundred hides was given.
Far and wide ’twas bruited, that well a godly house was builded, and
had thriven.

[917]
All who there were mourning the loss of friends and kin
Gave of their wealth a tithing, women as well as men,
For weal of the souls of any whose bodies there lay buried.
The cloister soon was wealthy, by the yield of three hundred hides,
through toil unwearied.

[918]
Now may God in his keeping have those who there lie dead,
And the holy men there dwelling. Those then homeward sped
Who still upon the Wulpensand were left among the living;
After all their sorrows, they reached their fatherland, no more in
warfare striving.

Tale the Nineteenth.
HOW THE HEGELINGS WENT HOME TO THEIR OWN LAND.

[919]
The kinsmen of King Hettel upon the sands had left
Many in death’s fast keeping; never knights bereft
Their homeward way had taken, hearts so sorry bringing.
Thereafter lovely women for this, with weeping eyes, their hands
were wringing.

[920]
Ortwin, the knight of Ortland, who to the fight had come,
After such shame and losses, back to fair Hilda’s home
Feared to bring these tidings, his mother dear to sadden.
She there was waiting daily, hoping her men would bring Gu-drun the
maiden.

[921]
Wâ-te, fearing sorely, rode to Hilda’s land;
The others dared not tell her of the loss on the Wulpensand.
Ill in the storm of fighting, his strength her men had warded;
Not lightly her forgiveness he hoped to gain, who thus her lord had
guarded.

[922]
When the word was spoken that Wâ-te near had come,
At once were men faint-hearted. Erewhiles when he came home,
Back from the war-field riding, it was with war-horns braying.
This he did at all times; but now they all were still, and nought
were saying.

[923]
“Woe’s me!” said Lady Hilda, “what sorrows must we fear?
The men of the aged Wâ-te shattered shields now bear;
Slowly step the horses, with armor heavy-loaded.
Some evil has befallen. Oh! say what harm to the king is now
forboded?”

[924]
When thus the queen had spoken, but little time had passed
Ere to the aged Wâ-te crowds came up in haste,
Who of friends and kinsfolk tidings now were seeking.
Soon a tale he told them with which the hearts of all were well-nigh
breaking.

[925]
Thus spake the Sturmisch Wâ-te: “Your loss I may not hide,
Nor falsehood will I tell you; all in the fight have died.”
The young and old together at this with fear were stricken.
Ne’er was a throng more wretched; no other woes could one to theirs
e’er liken.

[926]
“Alas! my bitter sorrow!” said King Hettel’s wife.
“From me my lord is sundered, who there laid down his life,
The great and mighty Hettel! My pride, how is it fallen!
Lost are child and husband! Gu-drun I ne’er shall see, from me
forever stolen.”

[927]
Then both knights and maidens with sharpest woe were torn;
Their sorrow knew no healing. Loudly the queen forlorn
Was heard, throughout the palace, for her husband mourning.
“Ah, wretched me,” cried Hilda, “that now to Hartmut’s side the luck
is turning!”

[928]
Then spake the brave old Wâ-te: “My lady, end your moan:
Home are they coming never, but when to men are grown
The youths within our kingdom, sad days will have an ending;
To Ludwig and to Hartmut the like we’ll do, our wrath upon them
spending.”

[929]
Then quoth the weeping lady: “Alas, that I must live!
Whatever I am owning I would most gladly give
Could e’er my wrongs be righted. If but this were granted,
That I, poor God-forsaken, might see Gu-drun again, naught else were
wanted.”

[930]
Old Wâ-te spake to Hilda: “Lady, weep no more.
’Tis best that we be sending, before twelve days are o’er,
To gather all your warriors, who will help you gladly
To plan a raid on the foeman; so with the Norman will it yet go
badly.”

[931]
He said: “My Lady Hilda, list to what befell:
Erewhile I took from pilgrims nine ships, and then set sail:
These should again be given to those we ill have treated;
That when new strifes we’re waging, a better luck to us may then be
meted.”

[932]
The weeping Hilda answered: “’Tis best that this be done;
Ever is it fitting that men for misdeeds atone.
To steal the goods of pilgrims is a sin not lightly shriven:
For every mark we’ve taken, to them three marks of silver shall be
given.”

[933]
The ships were brought to the pilgrims, as the queen did say;
Not one there was among them, when they sailed away,
Who left a curse behind him. For wrongs they found a healing;
And for Hilda, Hagen’s daughter, they harbored, when they left, no
bitter feeling.

[934]
Upon the morrow early, thither to come was seen
Herwic, the lord of Sealand; soon he found the queen
Weeping for her husband, who in death was lying.
She gave the knight a welcome, with hands she ever wrung, and deeply
sighing.

[935]
Seeing the lady weeping, then, too, to weep began
The young and lordly Herwic; soon spake that well-born man:
“Their lives not all have given, who help to you are owing,
And who would gladly grant it; though many by their death their love
were showing.

[936]
“My arm shall never falter, nor heart from care be free,
Till Hartmut feels my anger, who stole the maid from me,
And dared from home to tear her, death to many dealing:
Soon will I ride to his borders; then will I seize and hold his
lands and dwelling.”

[937]
His men, though filled with sorrow, rode towards the town,
Flocking to Matelan castle. The queen her hope made known
That, whatsoe’er might happen, their fealty would not weaken;
And, though the worst befell them, that she by them would never be
forsaken.

[938]
To her the men from Friesland and those from Sturmland went,
And from the Danish kingdom were warriors likewise sent;
The knights of Morunc also, from the land of Waleis riding,
Thither came with the Hegelings, to where the fair Queen Hilda was
abiding.

[939]
Forthwith there came from Ortland, Ortwin, Hilda’s son;
Then mourned they, as was fitting, his father dead and gone.
Soon were all the warriors aside with their ladies speaking,
And talking of the inroad the fighters strong one day would thence
be making.

[940]
Then said the aged Wâ-te: “This can never be
Till those who now are children fully-grown we see,
And worthy to be swordsmen. Then, their fathers mourning,
And of their kinsmen mindful, gladly will they with us to war be
turning.”

[941]
Queen Hilda then made answer: “To wait for this were long;
Meanwhile Gu-drun, my daughter, held by foemen strong,
Must in a far-off kingdom be kept in bondage bitter;
And I, poor queen and mother, shall know no bliss, and my heart will
ne’er grow lighter.”

[942]
Then said the Danish Fru-te: “The maid we cannot free
Until once more your kingdom shall full of warriors be.
Then, for the struggle ready, we hence shall ride, unfearing;
And so upon our foemen shall work the greatest ill with blows
unsparing.”

[943]
To this Queen Hilda answered: “That day may God soon give;
But I, unhappy woman, a weary life must live.
Whoe’er of me is mindful, and of Gu-drun, poor maiden,
Him will I trust most fully, knowing his heart for us with care is
laden.”

[944]
They now their leave were taking; to them the lady spake:
“May he be blest and happy who thought for me shall take.
’Tis right that you, brave warriors, to fight for me are ready;
Meanwhile for the coming inroad do all you can, and therein be you
speedy.”

[945]
Wisely then spake Wâ-te, the warrior old and good:
“Lady, we should be felling trees in the western wood.
Since we to fight have chosen, our hopes upon it staking,
The men of every princedom should forty well-built ships for us be
making.”

[946]
“I too will bid,” quoth Hilda, “that near the deep sea-flood
Twenty ships be builded, strong, and firm, and good;
And have them fully ready —my hest shall well be heeded—
To bear my friends and kindred to where they for the fight will soon
be needed.”

[947]
Siegfried, lord of Moorland, while their leave they took,
With kind and seemly bearing, thus to the women spoke:
“You have to tell me only when our time to wait is ending;
To sail shall I be ready, nor need you then for me be further
sending.”

[948]
Then to the sorrowing women, before they spread the sail,
The friendly guests, now leaving, bade a kind farewell.
The hearts of knights and maidens deep in woe were sinking;
Yet warlike deeds they plotted of which their Norman foes were never
thinking.

[949]
When they at length had ridden back again to their land,
Sadly they mourned their losses: then to the Wulpensand,
For the sake of the dead, did Hilda bid that food be taken
To the priests for them there praying. The queen was wise, the dead
were not forsaken.

[950]
There she bade to be builded a minster fair and wide;
A house for the sick, and a cloister built they at its side,
Near where the slain were buried. In many a land one heareth
Its name, and of those there fallen: ‘The church of Wulpensand’ is
the name it beareth.

Tale the Twentieth.
HOW HARTMUT WENT HOME TO NORMANDY.

[951]
No further will we tell you of how with these it fared,
Or how the cloister-brothers their life together shared.
Now to the tale of Hartmut we ask you all to listen;
How he with many maidens, high-born and fair, unto his land did
hasten.

[952]
After the fight was ended, as I have told before,
For many there was sorrow for the bitter wounds they bore:
Many who had fallen on the stormy field lay dying;
Children bereft of fathers bewailed them soon with tears they ne’er
were drying.

[953]
With heavy hearts the Normans were wafted o’er the flood;
Every night and morning many a warrior good
Felt ashamed and sorry, thus from the sands to be driven;
So felt the old and the youthful, although in all things else they
well had thriven.

[954]
They came to the Norman borders, unto King Ludwig’s land.
It was a day of gladness to all the sailing band,
To see at last their homesteads and thither to be steering.
Then said one among them: “These are Hartmut’s towns that we are
nearing.”

[955]
Helped by kindly breezes, soon they reached the shore.
Now the men of Normandy happy hearts all bore,
When to their wives and children they again were coming;
Long had they been fearing that they must die, while they afar were
roaming.

[956]
When now the glad King Ludwig did on his castles look,
Thus the lordly Norman to Gu-drun, the maiden, spoke:
“See you that palace, Lady? In bliss you may there be living;
If you to us are kindly, our richest lands will we to you be
giving.”

[957]
Then the high-born maiden thus made her sorrow known:
“To whom should I feel kindly, when kindness none have shown?
From that, alas! I’m sundered, and in my hopes am thwarted;
Nothing I know but hardship, and all my weary days I spend
sad-hearted.”

[958]
Then answered her King Ludwig: “Throw off this sorry mood,
And give your love to Hartmut, a knight both brave and good.
Whatever we are owning to give you we are willing;
With one who is so worthy blest may you live, and lofty rank be
filling.”

[959]
Then spake Hilda’s daughter: “Why leave me not in peace?
Rather than wed with Hartmut death would I dread far less.
That he should be my lover by birth he is not fitted;
To lose my life were better than take his love and as his bride be
greeted.”

[960]
When this was heard by Ludwig, filled with wrath was he;
Quick by the hair he seized her, and flung her into the sea.
Straightway the daring Hartmut his ready help then gave her;
He sprang at once to the maiden, and from the whirling waves his arm
did save her.

[961]
Just as the maid was sinking Hartmut reached her side;
Had not her lover helped her drowned were she in the tide.
Her yellow locks well grasping, then from out the water
With his hands he drew her: else nought from death had spared Queen
Hilda’s daughter.

[962]
Back to the ship did Hartmut bring the maiden fair;—
Rough ways to lovely women Ludwig did not spare.
Dragged from out the water, she in her smock was seated;
How full was she of sadness! Never before had the maiden thus been
treated.

[963]
Then all her friends together wept for the lovely maid,
None could there be happy; for what could be more sad
Than to see the king’s own daughter handled thus so roughly?
The thought to them was rising: “To us they now will bear themselves
more gruffly.”

[964]
Then said the knightly Hartmut: “Why drown my hoped-for wife,
Gu-drun, the lovely maiden, dear to me as life?
If any but my father so foul a wrong had done her,
Sore would be my anger, and I from him would take both life and
honor.”

[965]
To him King Ludwig answered: “Ever free from shame
Have I till age been living, and still a worthy name
And rank among my fellows will hold till life is ending.
Bid now Gu-drun, your lady, that she no more her scorn on me be
spending.”

[966]
Now unto Queen Gerlind errand-bearers came,
Who, in mood most happy, bore in Hartmut’s name
Words of love and honor, as from her son was fitting.
He asked a friendly welcome for his many knights who on the shore
were waiting.

[967]
They bore from him the tidings that he across the wave
Had brought the Hegeling maiden, to whom his love he gave
Ere he had looked upon her, and for whom he still was pining.
When this was heard by Gerlind, a happier day on her was never
shining.

[968]
Then said he who told it: “Lady, you now should ride
To the sea before the castle, where yet the maid doth bide,
And give her, in her sorrow, your love and kindly greeting;
You and your daughter, Ortrun, should haste to the shore, the
homeless maiden meeting.

[969]
“Likewise, riding with you down unto the flood,
Should go both maids and women, and also warriors good.
Her you will find in the harbor who from home was riven;
Both to the maid and her followers a welcome kind by you should now
be given.”

[970]
Then Queen Gerlind answered: “That will I gladly do;
’Twill make me richly happy King Hettel’s child to know,
And to find that, with her maidens, she has come to tarry.
Well I know that Hartmut will soon be blest, when he the maid shall
marry.”

[971]
Then she bade that horses, with saddle-cloths, be brought.
Ortrun, the youthful princess, was happy in the thought
Soon in her father’s kingdom to see Gu-drun, the maiden,
If this might truly happen; for the speech of all was with her
praises laden.

[972]
Then out of chests were taken of all the clothes the best
They knew therein were lying, to be worn to meet the guest.
Soon the knights of Hartmut to don the clothes were bidden;
Erelong a throng of followers, gaily bedight, from Gerlind’s halls
had ridden.

[973]
Upon the third day early, women as well as men,
All who there had gathered before Gerlind, their queen,
To give the maidens welcome, were ready and outfitted;
Out of the gates they crowded, and on their steeds not long in the
court-yard waited.

[974]
The Normans now with the women had into the harbor come:
The booty they unloaded that they would carry home.
All unto their birthland back had come right gladly;
Gu-drun and her band of maidens, alone of all, demeaned themselves
but sadly.

[975]
Now the brave Sir Hartmut led her forth by the hand,
If she had deemed it fitting, this she had not deigned;
Yet the poor child, in sorrow, took his love but coldly,
Altho’ he showed it warmly, and worship more had done freely and
boldly.

[976]
With her went sixty maidens who over the sea had come:
One saw, as he beheld them, how that all from their home
Came with proudest bearing. They erst high rank had taken,
In other lands and kingdoms; their hearts were heavy now, of bliss
forsaken.

[977]
The sister of young Hartmut between two barons rode;
Now to Hilda’s daughter a welcome warm she showed:
Ortrun, Ludwig’s daughter, her eyes now wet with weeping,
Kissed the homeless maiden, while she her fair white hands in her
own was keeping.

[978]
Then the wife of Ludwig to kiss her, too, was fain,
But to the youthful maiden the thought was full of pain.
Thus she spake to Gerlind: “Why come you here to meet me?
Loath am I to kiss you, and neither can I bear that you should greet
me.

[979]
“’Twas by your own ill-doing that I, poor wretched maid,
Have known no home nor dwelling; heart-sorrow long I’ve had;
My lot, alas! is shameful, and will, I fear, grow harder.”
Then Ortrun strove to soothe her, and did her best that with love
Gu-drun should reward her.

[980]
One by one she greeted the maids on every side.
Now rose a wondrous shouting; men flocked from far and wide:
Upon the pebbly sea-beach stakes for tents were driven;
With silken ropes were they fastened; to Hartmut and his men was
shelter in them given.

[981]
To bear the goods from the seaside the folk were all astir.
Gu-drun, fair maiden, sorrowed, and pain it gave to her
To see that all around her the Normans were so many;
Unless it were to Ortrun, she never showed a friendly mood to any.

[982]
The maidens on the seashore must all the day abide.
With tears their eyes were flowing, whatever others did;
Dry were they but seldom, their cheeks were pale with sorrow:
Hartmut tried to soothe them, but their sadness lasted yet through
many a morrow.

[983]
To hold Gu-drun in honor was Ortrun ever stern,
And, e’en if others wronged her, with love to her did turn:
She in her father’s kingdom strove to make her merry,
But, far from friends and kindred, often the poor young girl was sad
and weary.

[984]
To the Normans home was welcome, as indeed was right;
They boasted much of the booty, both churl as well as knight,
Brought from the Hegeling kingdom, as they home were turning.
What welcome glad all gave them who ne’er to see them hoped, albeit
yearning!

[985]
Soon as Hartmut’s warriors from all their toil were free,
And they were fully rested from off the stormy sea,
They quickly left each other, for their homes in many places:
While some their hands were wringing, smiles were seen to brighten
others’ faces.

[986]
Then did Hartmut also turn away from the shore,
And to a stately palace the fair Gu-drun he bore.
Henceforth the youthful maiden must tarry there far longer
Than she to stay was minded, and there her woe and pain grew ever
stronger.

[987]
When now the high-born maiden sat in Hartmut’s hall,
Where his men should crown her, then he bade them all
To be forever faithful, and their goodwill to show her;
So would she not forget them, but would enrich whoe’er should
kindness do her.

[988]
Then spake the mother, Gerlind, old King Ludwig’s wife:
“When will Gu-drun be ready to share young Hartmut’s life,
Our youthful prince so noble, and in her arms to fold him?
Of her his rank is worthy, and ne’er will she be sorry for her lord
to hold him.”

[989]
Gu-drun to this had listened, the wretched, homeless maid;
She said: “My Lady Gerlind, ’twould make you sad indeed
If you must take in wedlock one who the lives had wasted
Of many friends and kinsfolk; by toil for him your life were ever
blasted.”

[990]
“This shall no one hinder,” to her then said the queen;
“Gainsay his will no longer, let your love for him be seen,
And on my head I pledge you that rich shall be your guerdon:
If to be a queen you spurn not, you of my crown shall bear the happy
burden.”

[991]
Then said the sorrowing maiden: “That will I never wear;
Of all his wealth and greatness you the tale may spare.
Your son, the knightly Hartmut, my love can ne’er be winning:
Unwilling here I linger, and hence to go I day by day am pining.”

[992]
Then the youthful Hartmut, who of the land was lord,
Was angry with the maiden when he her answer heard.
He said: “If, then, to wed her the lady granteth never,
So, also, to the fair one shall my goodwill and love be wanting
ever.”

[993]
Then the wicked Gerlind to Hartmut said, in turn:
“Ever the young and thoughtless from the wise should learn.
Now leave to me this maiden, let me for her be caring,
And I so well shall teach her that she will quickly drop her lofty
bearing.”

[994]
“That will I grant you gladly,” Hartmut answering said;
“Whate’er from this may follow, to you I give the maid,
To have in your good keeping, as suits her rank and honor;
The maid is sad and homeless; lady, ’tis right that kindly care be
shown her.”

[995]
So Gu-drun, the fair one, when Hartmut went that day,
Was left unto his mother, and given to her sway:
But Hilda’s youthful daughter Gerlind’s guidance hated;
She could not brook her teaching, and never her dislike for this
abated.

[996]
Then to the lovely maiden the old she-devil spake:
“If you will not live happy, then sorrow you must take.
You have to heat my chamber; yourself the fire must kindle;
See, there is none to help you, nor may you hope your toil will ever
dwindle.”

[997]
The high-born maiden answered: “That I well can do;
Whatever you shall bid me, in all must I yield to you,
Until the God in heaven at last my wrongs has righted.
Never my mother’s daughter the fire upon the hearth ere this has
lighted.”

[998]
Said Gerlind: “As I’m living, to toil must you begin,
As never queenly daughter to do before was seen.
To be so proud and headstrong I will make you weary:
Before to-morrow darkens, your maidens you must leave, and ne’er be
merry.

[999]
“You hold yourself too highly, as I have heard it said;
For this shall work most toilsome soon upon you be laid.
This pride and froward bearing must be by you forsaken;
Your lofty mood will I lower, and all your hopes will very quickly
weaken.”

[1000]
Then went the wicked Gerlind to court, in anger wild;
She said to her son, young Hartmut: “Hettel’s wilful child
Scorns both you and your kindred, and ever at us is sneering:
Would we had never seen her, if we such talk from her must now be
hearing.”

[1001]
Then spake unto his mother Hartmut, the knight so brave:
“Pray treat the maiden kindly, howe’er she may behave:
So, for the care you show her, my thanks will you be earning.
Greatly have I wronged her; it well may be that she my love is
spurning.”

[1002]
Then said to him old Gerlind: “Whate’er by us is done,
In mood she is so stubborn that she will yield to none.
Unless we treat her harshly she ne’er, as you would have her,
Will come to you in wedlock; this must we do, or else to herself
must leave her.”

[1003]
Then to her thus answered the worthy Norman knight:
“Good lady, show her kindness henceforth in all men’s sight,
Now for the love you bear me; such care I beg you give her
That from her love and friendship the king’s fair daughter may not
bar me ever.”

[1004]
Then his devilish mother, with anger brimming o’er,
To the throng of Hegeling maidens quickly went once more.
She said: “Make ready, maidens, and to your toil betake you,
To do what you are bidden; the task to each that’s given ne’er
forsake you.”

[1005]
The maidens then were sundered, and soon from each other torn;
They saw not one another, and long must live forlorn.
Those who once so worthily lofty rank were taking,
In winding yarn were busied; while they sat at work their hearts
were aching.

[1006]
Some her flax were combing, others for her must spin;
Ladies of lofty breeding, whose pastime it had been
On their silken clothing to lay, with skill unsparing,
Gold and gems most costly, these for her now heavy toil were
bearing.

[1007]
The first in birth among them at the court was kept;
Water she must carry to the room where Ortrun slept:
To wait upon that lady the high-born maid was bidden;
By name was she called Hergart; her lofty birth was nought, she
still was chidden.

[1008]
Among them was another, brought from Galicia’s strand;
The griffin her from Portugal had borne to a far-off land.
She to the Hegeling kingdom with Hagen’s child was carried,
From over Ireland’s borders; now with the maids in the Norman land
she tarried.

[1009]
She was a prince’s daughter, who castles owned and lands;
The fire must now be lighted by her, with fair white hands,
While in the room well heated Gerlind’s ladies rested.
For all the work she was doing no thanks on her by them were ever
wasted.

[1010]
Now you well may wonder to hear her sorry plight.
For Gerlind’s lowest wenches she drudged both day and night;
Whatever task they set her, to do must she be willing.
It helped her not with the Normans that she at home a lofty rank was
filling.

[1011]
The work was mean and shameful that they were made to do
For seven half years and over, —this is all too true,—
Until the young Lord Hartmut, when three wars were ended,
Had come again to his kingdom, and found the maids at work, and
ill-befriended.

[1012]
To see again his loved one Hartmut deeply yearned;
But when he looked upon her, the truth he quickly learned,
That she good food and lodging of late had seldom tasted:
For choosing to live rightly, ’twas her reward to be with sorrow
wasted.

[1013]
When forth she came to meet him, to her young Hartmut said:
“Gu-drun, most lovely maiden, what is the life you have led
Since I, with all my warriors, my lands and home was leaving?”
She said: “Such tasks they set me, ’twas sin for you, and shame to
me ’twas giving.”

[1014]
Then outspoke young Hartmut: “Why has this been done,
Gerlind, my dearest mother? Your love she should have known;
When with you I left her, her lot you should have brightened,
And all her heavy sorrows you should for her within my land have
lightened.”

[1015]
His wolfish mother answered: “How could I better teach
King Hettel’s ill-bred daughter? ’Twas bootless to beseech,
Nor could I ever bend her, to make her leave her jeering:
She scorned both you and your father and kindred, too: to this
should you give hearing.”

[1016]
Then again spake Hartmut: “Much wrong we’ve done the maid.
Slain by us, her kindred and many knights lie dead;
While from the lovely maiden her father we have taken,
Slain by my father, Ludwig, and now with thoughtless words her woes
we waken.”

[1017]
Then answered him his mother: “My son, ’tis truth I say;
If we Gu-drun, proud maiden, for thirty years should pray,
If she with brooms were stricken, or with rods were beaten,
Your wife we ne’er could make her; hopeless it is the wayward maid
to threaten.”

[1018]
She farther said to Hartmut: “However, since you bid,
I’ll gladly treat her better.” But still her mind she hid,
And Hartmut never knew it; erelong Gu-drun would find her
Harsher yet than ever; and now the maiden’s wrongs could no one
hinder.

[1019]
Then went again old Gerlind to where Gu-drun then sat,
And said to the Hegeling maiden, in her wrath and hate:
“’Twere best you now bethink you, or else, my fair young maiden,
You with your flowing tresses must wipe the stools and seats, with
dust thick laden.

[1020]
“Then the room I sleep in, mark what now I say,
You, to do my bidding, must sweep three times a day;
You carefully must warm it, and keep the fire well burning.”
Said she: “That do I gladly, rather than take a lover I am
spurning.”

[1021]
Whatever she was bidden the willing maiden did;
No work of hers she slighted, nor should for aught be chid.
For seven years, full-numbered, in a land far over the water,
The maid was toiling wearily, and none did hold her as a kingly
daughter.

[1022]
The years had long been running, and the ninth was coming on,
When Hartmut to bethink him wisely had begun,
That indeed ’twas shameful that he no crown was wearing;
And for himself and his kinsmen ’twas right the name of king he now
were bearing.

[1023]
After heavy fighting, Hartmut, with his men,
Bearing the prize of bravery, riding home was seen.
He hoped the love of the maiden would now to him be granted;
For, more than any other, he the fair Gu-drun for his true love
wanted.

[1024]
When he reached his homestead, he bade them bring the maid.
His evil mother, Gerlind, allowed her to be clad
In meanest clothing only: Gu-drun but little heeded
The youthful Hartmut’s wooing; steadfast and true, no love from him
she needed.

[1025]
To him his friends then whispered, that, whether glad or no
For this might be his mother, he never should forego
To bend the maid to his wishes; and must his care be giving
That so he might with the lady for many a happy day in love be
living.

[1026]
To the ladies’ room he hastened, when thus his kinsmen spoke,
And there he found the maiden; her by the hand he took,
And said to her: “Fair lady, love me now, I pray you,
And sit as queen beside me; my knights and men shall worship ever
pay you.”

[1027]
Then said the lovely maiden: “For this I have no mind;
For while the fiendish Gerlind to me is so unkind,
The love of knights, tho’ worthy, I can long for never.
To her and all her kindred henceforth am I a bitter foe forever.”

[1028]
“Sorry am I,” said Hartmut; “to you will I make good
The hate my mother Gerlind to you so harshly showed;
As for both of us is worthy, your wrongs shall now be righted.”
The high-born maiden answered: “I trust you not; your word need
ne’er be plighted.”

[1029]
Then said to her young Hartmut, the lord of the Norman land:
“Gu-drun, most lovely maiden, you well must understand
Mine are these lands and castles: to none may you betake you;
Who is there here would hang me if, ’gainst your will, I now my own
should make you?”

[1030]
Then said King Hettel’s daughter: “That were a deed of shame:
Of aught so wrong and hateful never did I dream.
It would be said by princes, should they the tale be hearing,
That one of the kin of Hagen in Hartmut’s land a harlot’s name is
bearing.”

[1031]
Then did Hartmut answer: “What care I what they say?
If only you, fair lady, do not say me nay,
A king my men shall see me, and you my seat be sharing.”
Then said the maid to Hartmut: “That I should love you be you never
fearing.

[1032]
“Well you know, Sir Hartmut, how with me it stands;
And all the wrong and sorrow I met with at your hands,
When far from home you carried me whom you had stolen,
And, wounded by your warriors, my father’s men erewhile in death had
fallen.

[1033]
“Well known to you ’tis also, —for this I mourn again,—
How my father, Hettel, was by your father slain.
Were I knight, and not a woman, he durst not come before me
Unless his weapons wearing. Why wed the man who from my kindred tore
me?”

[1034]
For many years now bygone, it ever was the way,
No man should take a woman, and have her in his sway,
Unless they both were willing. Much praise for this is owing.
Gu-drun, the homeless maiden, her father’s loss still mourned, with
tears o’erflowing.

[1035]
Then spake to her in anger Hartmut, the youthful knight:
“Whatever may befall you, I reck not for your plight;
Since now you are not willing to wear the crown beside me,
You’ll have what you are seeking, your meed you’ll daily earn, nor
need you chide me.”

[1036]
“That will I earn most gladly, as I have done before,
Though for the men of Hartmut the hardest toil I bore,
And for Queen Gerlind’s women. If God my wrongs forgetteth,
To bear them I am willing; but heavy is the woe that me besetteth.”

[1037]
Still they sought to soothe her: first to the court they sent
Young Ortrun, Hartmut’s sister, whose looks all kindness meant;
’Twas hoped that she and her maidens, now by friendly dealing,
Would bring Gu-drun, poor lone one, to bear towards them all a
better feeling.

[1038]
Then to his sister Ortrun Hartmut freely spake:
“Wealth I will give you, sister, if kindly, for my sake,
To me you will be helpful, and bring Gu-drun, fair lady,
Soon to forget her sorrows; nor o’er her woes to brood be ever
ready.”

[1039]
Then spake the youthful Ortrun, the Norman maiden fair:
“To help both her and her maidens shall ever be my care,
Till they forget their sorrows: I bow my head before her,
And I and mine will hold her even as our kin, and watchful love
spread o’er her.”

[1040]
Gu-drun now said to Ortrun: “My hearty thanks you win,
That you, with kindly wishes, would see me sit as queen,
By the side of Hartmut, while with pride I’m gladdened:
For this my trust I give you, but homeless, none the less, my days
are saddened.”

Tale the Twenty-First.
HOW GUDRUN MUST WASH CLOTHES ON THE BEACH.

[1041]
Then to Gu-drun they offered castles strong and lands:
Of these would she have nothing. So, upon the sands,
She must wash their clothing, from early morn till even.
Great ill this wrought for Ludwig, when he with Herwic in the fight
had striven.

[1042]
First, Gu-drun was bidden to leave her seat, that soon
She, the high-born maiden, should go with fair Ortrun;
They bade that she be merry, and wine with her be drinking.
The homeless wanderer answered: “To make me queen you never need be
thinking.

[1043]
“Well you wot, Lord Hartmut, whate’er your wish may be,
Betrothed am I to another, and am no longer free.
That I one day shall wed him has with an oath been plighted;
Until by death he’s taken I will not wed with any man e’er
knighted.”

[1044]
Then spake the lordly Hartmut: “You only waste your breath;
By nought shall we be sundered unless it shall be death.
In friendship with my sister you should now be living;
Your hardships she will lighten, and will, I know, her love to you
be giving.”

[1045]
Fain to think was Hartmut that her unyielding mood
Might now by this be softened; he hoped, whatever good
Should e’er befall his sister, the maiden would be sharing:
Thus for both he trusted, that a happy life erelong would them be
cheering.

[1046]
Gu-drun soon greeted kindly many a friend and maid.
Ortrun sat beside her; her hue grew rosy-red
With eating and with drinking, ere many days were ended.
Enough was always ready: still the poor girl her mood ne’er wisely
mended.

[1047]
If Hartmut thought to greet her, and spoke in friendly mood,
How little did it cheer her! She o’er her woes did brood,
That she and all her maidens in a far-off land were bearing.
Soon, against young Hartmut, of harsh and angry words she was not
sparing.

[1048]
So long a time this lasted, the king at length was wroth;
He said: “Gu-drun, fair lady, as good am I in birth
As is the young King Herwic, who now you think is fitter
Than I to be your lover: too much you jeer at me, with words most
bitter.

[1049]
“If you would leave your sorrow, for both of us ’twere gain.
It wounds me out of measure when any gives you pain,
Or seeks your heart to burden, or in your wish to cross you:
Though now you are unfriendly, to be my queen I yet would gladly
choose you.”

[1050]
Then young Hartmut left her, and straight his men he sought.
He bade them to be watchful of ills that threatened aught,
And well to guard his kingdom; for he the while bethought him,
So sorely was he hated, ’twas much to fear some harm would yet be
wrought him.

[1051]
The cross and wicked Gerlind for her hard tasks did set;
She on a seat but seldom any rest did get.
Erst ’mong princes’ daughters men were wont to greet her,
As for her was rightful; now with the scorned and lowly they must
meet her.

[1052]
To her, in mood unfriendly, the old she-wolf then spake:
“Now Queen Hilda’s daughter I a drudge will make;
Although her evil feelings seem so strong and steady,
We yet shall see her toiling as ne’er before to do has she been
ready.”

[1053]
Then said the high-born maiden: “To work with all my might,
With hand and heart, I’m willing; in this, both day and night,
Will I be always busy, and every hour be striving;
Since ill-luck begrudges that I among my friends should now be
living.”

[1054]
The wicked Gerlind answered: “Now daily to the beach
You my clothes must carry, there on the sands to bleach.
You must for me and my maidens be washing and be drying;
And that no one find you idle, your work with care you ever must be
plying.”

[1055]
Then spake the high-born maiden: “Wife of a mighty king,
If they will only teach me the way to wash and wring,
And how to cleanse your clothing, to do it I am willing.
Bliss no more I look for; still greater woe my heart must yet be
filling.

[1056]
“Bid them now to teach me, and I will gladly learn;
So high I do not hold me that I the task should spurn.
Thus shall I be earning the food I here am eating;
Nought I say against it.” The poor Gu-drun her lot was wisely
meeting.

[1057]
Then by a washerwoman clothes to the sands were brought,
And how to wash and dry them the maiden now was taught.
Much at first she sorrowed, and by the work was flurried,
Yet was she spared by no one. So was the fair Gu-drun by Gerlind
worried.

[1058]
Before King Ludwig’s castle, she gained a skilful hand;
For knights who there were dwelling within the Norman land,
None could be more helpful, their clothing better washing.
Loudly mourned her maidens to see her toiling where the waves were
dashing.

[1059]
One there was among them who was also a great king’s child;
The wailing of the others was to hers a whisper mild.
This work so mean and lowly went to their hearts too nearly,
As they saw the high-born lady drudging on the shore, both late and
early.

[1060]
Then with love true-hearted Hildeburg made moan:
“Well we all must rue it— to God may this be known—
Who in this Norman kingdom erst with Gu-drun were landing;
No rest ought we to hope for while on the sea-beach washing she is
standing.”

[1061]
This was heard by Gerlind, who in anger spoke:
“If on the toils of your lady with such ill-will you look,
The work shall you be doing, and her place be filling.”
“That would I do right gladly,” said Hildeburg, “if only you were
willing.

[1062]
“For the love of God Almighty, Gerlind, my lady queen,
Let not this great king’s daughter toiling alone be seen:
A crown, too, wore my father, yet work would I be doing;
Let me with her stand washing, whatever good or ill we may be
knowing.

[1063]
“It fills my heart with sorrow, I feel her woes my own.
Once the greatest honor to her by God was shown:
Her forefathers and kindred were kings, and none were higher;
Though now her work is lowly, to toil with the maiden I shall never
tire.”

[1064]
Then said the wicked Gerlind: “This oft will bring you pain;
However hard the winter, still in snow and rain
My clothes must you be washing, altho’ cold winds are blowing;
So will you be wishing that you the warmth of heated rooms were
knowing.”

[1065]
Unwillingly she waited until the night drew near;
From this Gu-drun the high-born gained at last some cheer.
Then into her bedroom went Hildeburg in sorrow;
There they wept together for the work that they must do upon the
morrow.

[1066]
Then the Lady Hildeburg said to her in tears:
“The woes that you are bearing my heart with you now shares;
I begged the old she-devil no more alone to leave you
Upon the sea-sands washing; with you I’ll bear the burden, and my
help will give you.”

[1067]
The homeless maiden answered: “May Christ your love reward,
That you with so much sorrow of all my woes have heard.
If we may wash together, the days will be the brighter,
And time will seem far shorter, and on our hearts the shame will
weigh the lighter.”

[1068]
Soon as her wish was granted, down to the sandy shore
The clothing then she carried, gladness to know no more.
There must they wash in sorrow, whatever was the weather;
Whate’er was done by others, yet still these two must wash and toil
together.

[1069]
When her throng of handmaidens had time from work to spare,
Bitter was their weeping, to see her standing there
Upon the sea-sands washing. Loud were their moans and many,
Nor did their sorrow lessen; greater woe was never known by any.

[1070]
Long the toiling lasted,— that is true enough;
There must they be working full five years and a half.
Clothes for Hartmut’s followers they must wash and whiten:
Ne’er were maidens sadder; their toils before the castle nought
could lighten.

Tale the Twenty-Second.
HOW HILDA MADE WAR TO BRING BACK HER DAUGHTER.

[1071]
We now will speak no longer of the toil the maidens bore
For knights as well as ladies. Queen Hilda evermore
Her thoughts to this had given how to win back her daughter,
Out of the Norman kingdom, whither from home the daring Hartmut
brought her.

[1072]
First were workmen bidden, near to the deep sea-flood,
Of ships to build her seven, strong, well made, and good;
With two-and-twenty barges, broad, with both ends rounded.
Whate’er for them was needed was quickly brought, and everything
abounded.

[1073]
Forty galleys also lay upon the sea;
On these her eyes were feeding. Longing great had she
To see the throng of fighters who should soon be sailing.
She their food made ready; for this the knights her praise were
loudly telling.

[1074]
The time was drawing nearer, when now to cross the sea
No more should they be waiting, who wished the maids to free,
That in a far-off kingdom in hardest toil were living.
Now Hilda sent for her liegemen; to those who called them clothes
she first was giving.

[1075]
The day that she had chosen was at the Christmas-tide,
When they must seek the foemen by whom King Hettel died.
Forthwith to friends and kinsmen Hilda gave her bidding,
That they to bring her daughter back from the Norman land must then
be speeding.

[1076]
Trusty men were bidden by Hilda first to go
To Herwic and his followers, that one and all should know
Of the inroad on the Normans that she had sworn and plotted.
To many Hegeling children this erelong an orphan’s life allotted.