The Nibelungenlied: The Lay of the Nibelungs (Oxford World's Classics) (38 page)

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Irinc spoke once more: ‘My friends, I would have you know that you must arm me soon. I’ll make another attempt to see if I can yet vanquish that haughty warrior.’

His shield was hewn to pieces; he obtained a better one. With all

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speed the warrior was better armed. Full of hostile intent, he seized a mighty javelin, with which he wanted to attack Hagen again there. That deathly fierce
*
man waited for his foe to approach.

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Hagen the warrior could wait no longer for him. He ran towards him, hurling spears at him and striking blows with his sword, all the way down the steps and out—his anger was great indeed. Irinic profited
very little by his strength then. They struck such blows through their

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shields that flames flew up in fiery red blazes. Hawart’s vassal was so severely wounded by Hagen’s sword, piercing his shield and his breastplate, that he was never to recover.

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When Irinc the warrior realized he was wounded, he shifted his shield higher over his helmet-straps.
*
He thought he had suffered enough damage there. King Gunther’s vassal was to do him still greater harm. Hagen found a javelin lying at his feet.

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He flung it at Irinc, the hero of Denmark, so that the shaft was left sticking out of his head. Hagen the warrior had doled him a grim end.

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Irinc had to retreat to the men of Denmark. Before they unbuckled the warrior’s helmet they broke the javelin off his head—death neared him then. His kinsmen wept over this, as they had good reason to do. The queen then walked over to where he lay. She started the

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lament for mighty Irinc. She wept over his wounds; it grieved her deeply. Then the bold and gallant warrior said before his kinsmen:

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‘Leave off this lament, most noble lady. What help is your weeping? I must lose my life because of these wounds I have received. Death will no longer let me serve you and Etzel.’

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He said to the men of Thuringia and those of Denmark: ‘No hand of yours is to accept the queen’s gift, her bright red gold! If you take on Hagen, you must meet with death.’

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His colour had faded. Valiant Irinc bore the sign of death. It grieved them deeply. Hawart’s vassal could live no longer.

The men of Denmark had no choice but to do battle then. Irnfrit

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and Hawart leapt out of the chamber, with some thousand heroes. Uproar far beyond measure was heard on all sides, a great and mighty roar. Ah, what sharp javelins they hurled at the Burgundians!

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Bold Irnfrit ran at the minstrel, gaining great harm at his hands. The noble fiddler dealt the landgrave a blow through his stout helmet—he was a fierce fighter! Then Lord Irnfrit dealt the bold

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minstrel such a blow that the mesh of his mail broke and his breastplate was covered in red fire. Nevertheless the landgrave fell dead before the fiddler.

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Hawart and Hagen had found their way to one another. He who watched that fight might have seen marvels. The swords in the heroes’ hands rained down upon one another. Hawart had to die at the hands of the Burgundian. When the Danes and the Thuringians

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saw their lords were dead, dread peril arose outside the hall before they had gained the door by their courageous hands. Great numbers of helmets and rims were hewn to pieces there.

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‘Draw back,’ said Volker then, ‘and let them come in. Come what may, they will not accomplish what they intend. They must die in here, in no time at all. They will earn by their deaths what the queen gives them.’

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When the haughty warriors came into the hall, their heads were brought so low, great numbers of them, that they had to die by the Burgundians’ fierce blows. Bold Gernot fought well; so also did Giselher the warrior.

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A thousand and four had come into the hall. The glint of swords was to be seen, great numbers of them hissing fiercely. In the end all the warriors inside were slain. Many marvels might be told of the Burgundians.

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After that there was silence, once the clamour had died down. The blood of the dead men flowed through the drains and the gutters on all sides there. The men of the Rhine had brought that about by their great valour. Then the Burgundians sat down to rest again. They

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laid aside both their swords and shields. The bold minstrel still stood before the doors. He was waiting to see if anyone still wanted to go and do battle with them.

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The king lamented greatly, as also did his wife. Maidens and ladies beat their breasts there. I believe that Death had conspired against them. (Many warriors were yet to lose their lives there at the hands of the guests.)

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’U
NSTRAP
your helmets now,’ said Hagen the warrior. ‘I and my companion will guard you. If Etzel’s men want to make another attempt against us, then I’ll warn my lords as fast as I can.’

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Then great numbers of worthy knights bared their heads. They sat down upon the wounded who had met with death at their hands and had fallen into the blood before them. The noble guests had been ill tended there.

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Even before evening had come the king, and also the queen, saw to it that the Hunnish warriors made a further attempt. Some twenty thousand or more of them could be seen standing before them—they were obliged to go into battle there.

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A fierce assault upon the guests began at once. Dancwart, Hagen’s brother, that man of great boldness, leapt away from his lords to meet the foes outside the door. They thought he had died; he had come out hale and hearty.

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The fierce battle lasted until night took it from them. Then the guests defended themselves against Etzel’s men as became worthy heroes, all through that summer-long day. Ah, how many more bold knights lay doomed to death before them! It was at the solstice that

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this great slaughter happened, when Lady Kriemhilt so avenged her heart’s grief on her nearest kindred and many another man that King Etzel never knew happiness again.

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The day had run out for the Burgundians—they had good reason to be troubled then. They thought that a swift death would be better for them than to be tortured for a long time there, suffering beyond measure. The proud, gallant knights requested a truce then. They

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asked that the king should be brought to them there. The heroes, red with blood and armour-rusty, stepped out of the hall, those three proud kings. They didn’t know to whom they might lament their most grievous injuries.

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Etzel and Kriemhilt both walked over. The land was subject to them, and so their company grew in number. Etzel said to the guests: ‘Tell me now, what do you want of me? You think to gain a truce—that could scarcely be after such great harm as you have done me.

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You shall not profit by it as long as I live—slaying my son and many of my kinsmen! Truce and reconciliation must be denied you entirely.’

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Gunther answered: ‘Great peril forced that upon us. All my retinue lay dead at the hands of your heroes in the lodgings. How had I deserved that? I came to you in good faith; I believed that you held me dear.’

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Then young Giselher of Burgundy said: ‘You heroes of Etzel who are still alive here, what do you reproach me, this warrior, for? What wrong have I done you? For it was in friendship that I rode into this land.’

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They said: ‘All the castle is full of your kindness, to the grief of the whole land. We would indeed have welcomed it if you had never left
Worms on the Rhine. You have orphaned the whole land, you and your brothers together.’

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Gunther the warrior spoke in anger then: ‘If you will bring about a reconciliation and put an end to this great hostility towards us foreign warriors, that will be for the benefit of both sides. We are entirely free of blame, no matter what harm Etzel does us.’

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Then the host said to the guests: ‘My sorrows and yours bear little comparison. Because of the great suffering, the losses, and disgrace I have incurred here, none of you shall ever leave here alive.’

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Then mighty Gernot said to the king: ‘In that case may God command you to act worthily.
*
Slay us foreigners, but let us go down to meet you in the open. That will do you honour. Whatever may befall

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us, let it take place soon. You have so many in good health that if they dare attack us, they’ll not let us battle-weary men live. How long are we warriors to suffer like this?’

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Etzel’s warriors would almost have agreed to let them go out of the hall. Kriemhilt came to hear of that—it displeased her greatly. Thus the truce was in all haste retracted from the foreigners.

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‘No, you Hunnish warriors, in good faith I advise you against what you intend. Do not let those bloodthirsty men out of the hall, or else your kinsmen must fall to their deaths. If none of them were alive

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now except my noble brothers, Uote’s sons—if they get out into the fresh air and their mail cools, then you are all lost! No bolder knights were ever born in this world.’

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Then young Giselher said: ‘My most fair sister, I did very ill to trust you when you invited me across the Rhine into this land, to face this great peril. How have I deserved death at the hands of the Huns here? I was always loyal to you and never did you harm. It was in the

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hope that you held me dear, my dearest sister, that I rode to court here. Think whether you can grant us mercy—we have no choice now.’

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‘I cannot grant you mercy—I am merciless. Hagen of Tronege has done me such great wrongs that there can be no reconciliation as long as I live. You must all pay the price,’ said Etzel’s wife. ‘If you will give

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me Hagen, alone, as a hostage, then I will not refuse to let you live, for you are my brothers and we are one mother’s children. On that condition I will seek a reconciliation with these heroes here.’

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‘Now God in Heaven forbid!’ replied Gernot. ‘Even if there were a thousand of us, kin to your kinsmen, we would all lie dead rather than give you one man as hostage here. That shall never be done!’

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’We must die, come what may,’ said Giselher then. ‘No one shall prevent us from defending ourselves in knightly ways. If anyone would gladly fight against us, then here we stand again, for I never went against my loyalty to any friend of mine.’

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Then bold Dancwart said—it would not have become him to be silent—‘My brother Hagen does not stand alone. Those who refuse a truce here may come to regret it. We shall give you proof of that, rest assured.’

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The queen then said: ‘You most gallant heroes, go nearer to the stairs now and avenge my wrongs. I will always repay you for that as I rightly ought. I will reward Hagen well for his haughtiness. Let not

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a single one of them out of the hall, and then I’ll give the order that all four corners be set alight. Thus all my wrongs will be well avenged!’

Etzel’s warriors were quickly at the ready. With blows and spearshots

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they drove those who were still standing outside there back into the hall. Great uproar arose at that. The princes and their vassals, however, never wanted to part. They could never abandon their loyalty to one another.

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Etzel’s wife then ordered that the hall be set alight. Then they tortured the warriors with fire there. A gust of wind caused all the hall to catch fire in no time at all. I believe no people ever faced greater peril. There were plenty in there who called out: ‘Alas for this peril!

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We would much rather die in battle. May God take pity! We are all lost! Now the queen in her anger is wreaking monstrous vengeance upon us.’

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One of those inside said: ‘We must lie dead here. What use to us now is the greeting that the king sent us? The strong heat causes me such painful thirst that I think my life will soon end amid these troubles.’

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Then Hagen of Tronege said: ‘You noble, worthy knights, if any of you suffers pangs of thirst, let him drink the blood here. In such heat it is even better than wine. There is nothing else for it now.’

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At that one of the warriors walked over to a corpse. He knelt by his wound; he unstrapped his helmet. He began drinking the flowing blood. Little though he was accustomed to it, he thought it excellent.

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‘Now God reward you, Sir Hagen,’ said that weary man, ‘that I’ve drunk so well by your counsel. Seldom have I been poured out better wine. If I live any longer, I’ll always hold you dear.’

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When the others heard that he thought it good, many more of them also drank the blood. Some of them gained much strength by that.
(Fair women in great numbers were to pay for that afterwards by the loss of their dearly beloved.)

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The fire rained down upon them into the hall. They steered it down and away from them with their shields. The smoke and the heat both hurt them hard. I believe no greater misery ever befell heroes. Then

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Hagen of Tronege said: ‘Stand by the wall of the hall. Don’t let the brands fall on your helmet-straps. Tread them deeper into the blood with your feet. This is a foul festivity the queen is holding for us.’

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In such suffering the night did, however, come to an end for them. The bold minstrel and Hagen, his companion, were still standing outside the hall, leaning on their rims. They were expecting more harm from the men of Etzel’s land. Then the fiddler said. ‘Let us

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go into the hall now. Then the Huns will think that we are all dead because of this torture that has been inflicted upon us. They will yet see us stand up against one or two of them in battle!’