The Nibelungenlied Part 141

LXXIV

Sir Folker and Sir Hagan both from him further stepp'd According to their promise which faithfully they kept, But at the stairs were standing warriors so bold and stout, That Rudeger the battle began with anxious doubt.

LXXV

King Gunther and Sir Gernot in let him force his way To take his life the surer; stern knights and fierce were they.

Young Giselher kept his distance; e'en yet he look'd for life, So spar'd, though half unwilling, the father of his wife.

LXXVI

Forward the margrave's warriors leapt with fierce intent; In their master's footsteps manfully they went.

Sharp-cutting blades they brandish'd as in close fight they strove, And s.h.i.+ver'd many a buckler, and many a morion clove.

LXXVII

The guests, though faint and weary, dealt many a storm-swift blow At those of Bechlaren, that deep and smooth did go To flesh and bone and inward through links of iron weed.

They wrought in that stern struggle full many a doughty deed.

LXXVIII

The n.o.ble train of Rudeger now in had enter'd all.

Folker at once and Hagan leapt on them in the hall, Nor quarter gave to any, but to that single man.

The blood beneath their broadswords down through the helmets ran.

LXXIX

What a fearful clatter of clas.h.i.+ng blades there rang!

From s.h.i.+elds beneath the buffets how the plates they sprang, And precious stones unnumber'd rain'd down into the gore.

They fought so fell and furious as man will never more.

Lx.x.x

The Lord of Bechlaren went slas.h.i.+ng here and there, As one who well in battle knew how himself to bear.

Well prov'd the n.o.ble Rudeger in that day's b.l.o.o.d.y fight, That never handled weapon a more redoubted knight.

Lx.x.xI

On the other side the slaughter Gunther and Gernot led; They smote in that grim conflict full many a hero dead; Giselher and Dankwart, little of aught reck'd they; Full many a prowest champion they brought to his last day.

Lx.x.xII

Well prov'd the fiery margrave his strength and courage too, His weapon and his harness;--ah! what a host he slew!

That saw a bold Burgundian; his pa.s.sion mounted high.

Alas for n.o.ble Rudeger! e'en then his death drew nigh.

Lx.x.xIII

Loud o'er the din of battle stout Gernot shouted then, "How now, right n.o.ble Rudeger? not one of all my men Thou'lt leave me here unwounded; in sooth it grieves me sore To see my friends thus slaughter'd; bear it can I no more.

Lx.x.xIV

"Now must thy gift too surely the giver harm to-day, Since of my friends so many thy strength has swept away.

So turn about, and face me, thou bold and high-born man!

Thy goodly gift to merit, I'll do the best I can."

Lx.x.xV

Ere through the press the margrave could come Sir Gerno nigh, Full many a glittering mailcoat was stain'd a b.l.o.o.d.y die.

Then those fame-greedy champions each fierce on th' other leapt, And deadly wounds at distance with wary ward they kept.

Lx.x.xVI

So sharp were both their broadswords, resistless was their dint; Sudden the good Sir Rudeger through th' helmet hard as flint So struck the n.o.ble Gernot, that forth the blood it broke; With death the stern Burgundian repaid the deadly stroke.

Lx.x.xVII

He heav'd the gift of Rudeger with both his hands on high, And, to the death though wounded, a stroke at him let fly Right through both s.h.i.+eld and morion; deep was the gash and wide.

At once the lord of Gotelind beneath the swordcut died.

Lx.x.xVIII

In sooth a gift so goodly was worse requited ne'er, Down dead dropp'd both together, Gernot and Rudeger, Each slain by th' other's manhood, then prov'd, alas! too well.

Thereat first Sir Hagan furious wax'd and fell.

Lx.x.xIX

Then cried the knight of Trony, "Sure we with ill are cross'd; Their country and their people in both these chiefs have lost More than they'll e'er recover;--woe worth this fatal day!

We have here the margrave's meiny, and they for all shall pay."

XC

All struck at one another, none would a foeman spare.

Full many a one, unwounded, down was smitten there, Who else might have 'scap'd harmless, but now, though whole and sound, In the thick press was trampled, or in the blood was drown'd.