The Nibelungenlied: The Lay of the Nibelungs (Oxford World's Classics) (30 page)

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Sigelint, spoke then: ‘I will warn you, Hagen, Aldrian’s son. My aunt has lied to you because of our clothes. If you arrive among the Huns, you’ll be badly betrayed. Indeed, you ought to turn back—it is high

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time, for you bold heroes are invited to meet with certain death in Etzel’s land. All that ride there are doomed to die.’

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Then Hagen replied: ‘There is no need for you to deceive me. How might it happen that we should all lie dead there because of anyone’s enmity?’

They gave him a better-informed account. The second of them

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spoke again: ‘It is so fated that none of you can survive there except for the king’s chaplain—we have full knowledge of this. He will return hale and healthy to Gunther’s land.’

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Bold Hagen replied in a grim mood: ‘Those would be harsh words to tell my lord—that we are all to lose our lives amongst the Huns. Now show us how to cross the river, wisest of all women.’

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She said: ‘Since you won’t abandon your journey—upstream by the river stands a lodge in which a ferryman lives. No other is to be found anywhere.’

He refrained from asking for further tidings then.

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One of the water-sprites called out after the wrathful warrior: ‘Now stay a while, Sir Hagen, you are in far too great haste. Hear more about how you are to cross to the far shore. This march’s lord is called Else. His brother is called Sir Gelpfrat, a lord in Bavaria.

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It will be very hard for you if you want to make your way through his march. You must be on your guard, and treat the ferryman with great discernment. He is so ferocious that he will not let you live unless

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you act well towards the hero. If you want him to ferry you over, then give him his reward. He keeps guard over this land and is dear to Gelpfrat. If he doesn’t come in good time, then call out over the

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river and say you are called Amelrich. He was a worthy hero who left this land out of enmity. The ferryman will come over to you when his name is named to him.’

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Haughty Hagen bowed to the ladies then. He spoke no more, but held his peace. Then he walked higher upstream to the shore, where he found a lodge on the far bank. He shouted out loud across the

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river: ‘Fetch me from here now, ferryman,’ called the worthy knight, ‘and I’ll give you a torque of red gold as a reward. I am sorely in need of this crossing, believe me!’

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The ferryman was so wealthy that serving others did not become him, which is why he seldom accepted anyone’s reward there. His squires were also full of pride. Hagen still stood alone on this side of the river. Then he shouted out with such power that all the waves

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resounded, for that hero’s strength was great and mighty: ‘Fetch me now—I am Amelrich, Else’s vassal, who fled from this land in face of fierce hostilities!’

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Held high on his sword, Hagen offered him a torque, bright and beautiful, red with gold, if he would ferry him across into Gelpfrat’s land. The haughty ferryman himself took the rudder into his hands.

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It so happened that that ferryman had lately married. Lust for great wealth leads to an evil end. He wanted then to earn Hagen’s gold, so red it was. For that he suffered death by the knight’s fierce sword-work.
*

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The ferryman eagerly pulled across to the bank. When he did not find the man he had heard named there, he grew bitterly angry at the sight of Hagen. Ferociously he then said to the knight: ‘You may well

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be called Amelrich, yet you bear little likeness to the man I expected to find here. He was my brother, on both my father’s and mother’s side. Since you have deceived me, you must stay on this side of the river!’

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‘No, by Almighty God!’ replied Hagen. ‘I am a warrior, a stranger to these lands, and have knights in my care. Now accept my payment in friendship today, and ferry me across—I will be truly beholden to you.’

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The ferryman then said: ‘That cannot be. My dear lords have foes, which is why I will ferry no stranger into this land. If your life is dear to you, step quickly out onto the shore.’

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‘Now don’t do this,’ said Hagen, ‘for I am sad at heart. Accept in friendship this fine gold from me, and ferry across a thousand horses, and as many men for us.’

The grim ferryman replied: ‘That will never be.’ He lifted up a

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mighty oar, massive and broad, and struck such a blow at Hagen—to his dismay!—that he stumbled to his knees in the skiff. The man of Tronege had never met with such a fierce ferryman. He wanted then

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to provoke the haughty stranger to even greater anger. He broke a pole into smithereens upon Hagen’s head—he was a mighty man! Yet Else’s ferryman paid dearly for that there. Grimly, Hagen reached at

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once for his scabbard, where he found his sword. He struck off his head and threw it down onto the riverbed. Those tidings soon became known to the proud Burgundians.

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While he had been slaying the boatman, the skiff had drifted downstream, to Hagen’s great trouble. Before he could right her again he grew weary. King Gunther’s vassal pulled with all his might then.

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With powerful pulls the stranger turned her about, pulling so hard that the stout oar broke in his hand. He wanted to moor her on the shore near the warriors. Now no oar remained. Oh, how swiftly he then bound it together there with a shield-strap—that was a slender

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braid! He turned her downstream towards a forest. There he found his lord standing by the bank. Gallant men in great numbers then came towards him. Those bold, worthy knights greeted him

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heartily. Then they saw in the skiff the reeking blood from the mighty wound which Hagen had dealt the ferryman. The knights put plenty of questions to Hagen then.

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When King Gunther beheld the hot blood floating in the skiff, how quick he then was to speak! ‘Why don’t you tell me, Hagen, what has become of the ferryman? I believe your mighty courage has cost him his life!’

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Hagen replied, denying this: ‘There where I found the skiff, by a wild willow, my hand untied it. I’ve seen no ferryman here today. Nor has anyone come to grief because of me here.’

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Then Lord Gernot of Burgundy said: ‘I must fear for the death of dear friends today, since we have no boatmen at our disposal. I am troubled as to how we are to cross the river.’

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Loudly Hagen called out then: ‘Lay the harness down upon the grass, you squires. I believe I was the very best ferryman ever found by the Rhine. I trust I can take you safely over into Gelpfrat’s land.’

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So that they might cross the flooding river the more quickly, they drove their horses ahead with blows. They swam well, for the strong waves deprived them of none of them there. One or two drifted far downstream, so wearied were they.

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Then they carried their gold, and also their garments, onto the skiff, since there was nothing for it but to make the crossing. Hagen was captain there; he led wealthy warriors in great numbers onto the shore, into a land unknown to them. First he took over a thousand

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proud knights, thereafter his own warriors. There were more of them still. He took nine thousand squires across into that land. The bold man of Tronege had much to do that day.

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When he had brought them safe and sound across the flooded river, that bold and worthy knight thought back to the strange tidings that the wild water-sprites had told him earlier. The king’s chaplain almost lost his life by that. He found the chaplain by the chapel-baggage.
*

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He was leaning with his hand on the relics. That was of no avail to him. Once Hagen had caught sight of him, the poor priest of God had troubles in store. Hagen hastily threw him out of the

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skiff. Plenty of them called out: ‘Catch hold now, sir, catch hold!’ Young Giselher grew angry at this, but Hagen was bent on doing the chaplain harm.

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Then Lord Gernot of Burgundy said: ‘Now what will the chaplain’s death avail you, Hagen? If anyone else had done this, you’d have been angered at it! For what reason have you turned against the priest?’

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The priest swam urgently—he wanted to save his life, if anyone could come to his aid. That could not be then, for mighty Hagen was in a very angry mood. He thrust him down to the riverbed—no one thought well of that. When the poor clergyman saw no help

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forthcoming, he crossed back over, suffering great distress. Although he was no swimmer, God’s hand helped him emerge onto land again, safe and sound. Then the poor priest stood there and shook his

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clothes. Hagen saw clearly by this that there was no help for it, that the
wild water-sprites had told him the truth. He thought: ‘These knights are doomed to lose their lives.’

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When they had unloaded their cargo from the skiff and carried it all onto land, all that the three kings’ men had had on board, Hagen struck the skiff into pieces and threw it into the flooded river. The bold and worthy warriors wondered greatly at this. ‘Why are you

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doing this, brother?’ asked Dancwart. ‘How are we to cross when we ride back from the Huns to our land by the Rhine?’ (Afterwards Hagen told him that that could not be.)

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The hero of Tronege replied: ‘I am doing this in the belief that if we have any coward on this journey who wants to run away from us, daunted in the face of danger, he will yet have to suffer shameful death in these waves.’

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There was one that they took with them from Burgundy, a man of mettle, who was named Volker. He voiced all his opinions with cunning. All that Sir Hagen ever undertook seemed good to the fiddler.

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Their chargers were readied, their packhorses well laden. They had suffered no losses to trouble them as yet on their journey, except for the king’s chaplain. He had to make his way back to the Rhine on his own two feet.

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W
HEN
they had now all landed on the shore, the king asked: ‘Who is going to lead us on the right roads through the land, so that we do not go astray?’

Stout Volker replied: ‘I myself will see to that.’

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‘Halt now, knights and squires,’ said Hagen. ‘A man ought to heed his friends’ counsel—that seems only right to me. I have dread tidings to tell you: we shall never return to Burgundy. Two watersprites

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told me early this morning that we shall not return. Now I’ll advise you as to what we’re to do—arm yourselves, heroes! You must be on your guard! We have mighty foes here—let us make our way warily. I thought I might find that the wise water-sprites were lying.

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They said that none of us would return to our land safe and sound
save the chaplain. That’s why I’d so willingly have drowned him today.’

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Then those tidings flew from company to company, so that bold heroes grew pale with dread, as they feared meeting with grim death on that journey to a foreign court—they had good reason to be troubled.

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They had crossed over by Möhringen,
*
where Else’s ferryman had been slain. Then Hagen spoke again: ‘Since I have earned enemies on the road, we will surely be attacked. I slew that ferryman early

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this morning. They must know these tidings. Be at the ready now! If Gelpfrat and Else attack our company here today, let them pay dearly for it. I know they are so bold that they won’t forgo the

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opportunity. Let your horses walk at a slower pace, lest anyone should think that we are fleeing along the roads.’

‘I will follow that advice,’ said Sir Giselher. ‘Who is to guide the company across the land?’

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They said: ‘Let Volker do so. The ways and roads here are well known to the bold minstrel.’ Even before the request had been put, they saw the bold fiddler standing there well-armed. He buckled on

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his helmet. His battle-gear was splendidly coloured. He also tied an emblem to a shaft, red in colour. (In time to come he, together with the kings, was to meet with grievous peril.)

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By then sure tidings of the ferryman’s death had reached Gelpfrat. Mighty Else had also heard of it. Both of them grieved over it. They sent for their heroes, who were quickly in readiness.

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Not long afterwards, let me tell you, the Burgundians saw men riding towards them who had inflicted injuries in hard-fought feuds and suffering beyond measure. Seven hundred or more of them came to Gelpfrat’s aid. When they rode off in pursuit of their fierce foes,

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they were led by their lords. They were somewhat overhasty in their pursuit of the bold strangers, being angry and bent on vengeance. In consequence more of the lords’ allies were lost.

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Hagen of Tronege had made good arrangements then—how might a hero better guard his kinsmen? He took charge of the rearguard with his men and his brother Dancwart. That was very wisely done.

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The day was at an end for them, they would see no more of it. Hagen feared harm and injury to his friends. They rode through Bavaria under cover of their shields. Not long afterwards the heroes were attacked. On both sides of the road and close behind them

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they heard hooves pounding. Someone was over-hasty! Then bold Dancwart said: ‘They want to attack us here. Buckle your helmets on now—this is sound counsel I give!’

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They halted, having no choice but to break their journey. They saw the gleam of bright shields in the darkness. Then Hagen no longer wanted to hold his peace: ‘Who is pursuing us on the road?’

Gelpfrat had no choice but to give him his answer then. The margrave