Adventure
XXX
How They Kept Watch and Ward
Now was the daylight ended
and night began to close.
Amid the wayworn warriors
disquietude arose
For when they were to rest them
and to their beds begone.
This mooted was by Hagen;
and soon it was made known.
Unto the host spake Gunther:
“God grant you long to live!
We now would hence to slumber;
we pray thee leave to give.
We’ll come to-morrow morning
if thou dost order so.”
Right pleasantly agreed he,
and bade his guests to go.
One saw the people crowding
the guests on every side.
Then Volker the undaunted
unto the Hunfolk cried:
“How dare ye get in front of
the warriors’ very feet?
If ye will not give over
with trouble ye will meet.
“A fiddle-stroke so heavy
on one of you I’ll lay,
That, hath he a well-wisher,
that same may rue the day.
Give place there to us warriors!
’twill be the best for you.
Folk call ye knights, but little
ye have akin thereto.”
Whilst spake the fiddle-player
so wrathfully his mind,
The valiant Hagen turn’d him,
and gave a glance behind.
Said he: “The gallant minstrel
hath warn’d you properly;
Ye heroes of Kriemhilda
back to your homes go ye.
“The plan ye are devising
will not come off, I trow.
Come back to-morrow morning
if ye have aught to do,
And leave us weary strangers
this night to rest in peace;
I ween that heroes ever
so do in suchlike case.”
Anon the guests were taken
into a roomy hall,
Which found they well provided,
to suit the warriors all,
With richly furnish’d bedsteads,
that were both wide and long.
The while Dame Kriemhild plotted
to do them grievous wrong.
Right goodly mats from Arras
all round about were spread,
Of bright-hued wool-stuffs woven;
and many a cover-bed
Wrought of Arabian samite,
the finest that might be;
Whereon were borders broider’d
that shone right gloriously.
The coverlets of ermine
did many a man espy,
And others of black sable,
whereunder they might lie
And pass the night in comfort
until the dawn of day.
A king and all his courtiers
so softly never lay.
“O woe, for this night’s sojourn!”
so spake young Giselher
“And woe for all my comrades
who hither with us fare!
Howbeit that my sister
so kind a bidding gave,
By cause of her, I fear me,
we all our deaths shall have.”
“Now let your mind be easy,”
Hagen the thane answer’d:
“I will from now till morning
myself keep watch and ward;
And well I swear to guard you
until the break of day.
Till then be all untroubled;
then, save himself who may!”
Then bow’d they all before him
and gave him thanks therefore,
And to their beds betook them:
nor was it long before
Laid down in rest and slumber
was every goodly man.
To don his arms the hero—
Hagen the bold—began.
Then up and spake the minstrel,
Volker the gallant thane:
“If thou dost not disdain it,
then, Hagen, I am fain
To-night to keep guard with thee,
until the morning break.”
Right heartily the hero
his thanks to Volker spake:
“Now God in Heaven reward you,
Volker, my comrade true!
To none in all my troubles
save only unto you
Would I for aidance turn me,
if need should e’er befall.
One day I will repay you,
if Death do not forestall.”
Then in their shining raiment
they twain their bodies clad,
And each of them his buckler
upon his forearm had.
They went without the castle
to stand the gateway by,
And there the guests they guarded:
’twas done right faithfully.
Volker the ever-ready
then from his arm unbraced
His shield—it was a good one—
which ’gainst the wall he placed.
Back to the hall he hasten’d,
and there his fiddle seized,
And as became a hero,
his friends therewith he pleased.
Beneath the doorway sat he
upon a seat of stone;
A braver fiddle-player
in sooth had ne’er been known.
With such sweet-sounding music
upon the strings he play’d,
That all the high-born strangers
their thanks to Volker paid.
The sweet clang of his viol
made all the house resound.
His strength and skill together
right excellent were found.
More softly and more sweetly
to fiddle he began,
And lull’d upon their couches
full many a troubled man.
And when they all were sleeping,
and he thereof was sure,
The thane took up his buckler
upon his arm once more,
And went outside the chamber
before the tower to stand,
To guard the sleeping strangers
against Kriemhilda’s band.
When halfway spent the night was,
or earlier it might be,
The gallant Volker, watching,
a shining helm could see
Far off amid the darkness.
’Twas one of Kriemhild’s men,
Who all to do a mischief
unto the guests were fain.
Then spake the fiddle-player:
“My friend, Sir Hagen, there,
Together it is fitting
that we this trouble share.
I’ve seen some folk in armour
before the house but now,
Else I am much mistaken,
they’ll set on us, I trow.”
“Then hold thy peace,” quoth Hagen,
“and let them nearer come.
Or ever they can see us,
our swords will have struck home
And split their helmets for them,
with double-handed might.
We’ll send them back to Kriemhild,
methinks, in sorry plight!”
One of the Hunnish warriors
had soon enough espied
That guarded was the doorway;
how suddenly he cried:
“The matter we intended,
in sooth will not go well.
I see the fiddle-player
standing as sentinel!
“A brightly polish’d helmet
upon his head hath he
Of pure, hard-temper’d metal,
and strong, and blemish-free.
His hauberk’s rings are glowing
as fiery embers would.
By him stands also Hagen:
the guests have watchmen good.”
Forthwith they turn’d them backwards.
When Volker that espied,
Again to his companion
in wrathful voice, he cried:
“Now let me from the palace
after the warriors go;
Of Dame Kriemhilda’s liegemen
somewhat I fain would know.”
“Nay, do it not,” said Hagen;
“I pray you by my love!
These ever-ready warriors,
if from the house you move,
Would with their swords, I doubt not,
bring you such straits to face,
That I should have to help you,
were’t death to all my race.
“For whilst we two together
are busy in the fray,
Some two or four among them
will to the house away,
And quickly force an entrance,
and some foul mischief do
Unto our sleeping comrades,
which we shall ever rue.”
Then Volker spake in answer:
“Let it be settled so;
But that I’ve seen them coming
at least we’ll let them know,
So Kriemhild’s men hereafter
shall never dare deny
That they would fain against us
have wrought vile treachery.”
With that, towards them Volker
sent forth a lusty shout:
“Ye nimble knights, in armour
why go ye thus about?
Ye warriors of Kriemhilda,
if ye on foray ride,
Myself and my companion
ye should have at your side!”
No word there came in answer.
Then wrathful wax’d his mood:
“Fie on ye, skulking rascals!”
shouted the hero good;
“Would ye have caught us sleeping,
and murder’d every one?
So foul a deed on heroes
hath never yet been done.”
Unto the queen right truly
was told how lucklessly
Her messengers had prosper’d.
Good cause for grief had she.
Then otherwise contrived she:
so cruel was her mood;
By which ere long to perish
were heroes bold and good.