Ere they went on shipboard,
the pilgrims them besought
Kindly to take the clothing
they with them had brought.
However shy were the maidens,
to wear them they were ready;
They donned the clothes with blushes,
and now their sorrow had an ending speedy.
Soon as the lovely maidens
embarked upon the wave,
They heartily were greeted
by knights both good and brave,
Who to the high-born daughters
welcome to give were heedful;
Though they at first mistook them,
and thought them wicked elves, or mermaids dreadful.
That night the maidens rested
with friends upon the sea;
So wondrous was their dwelling,
from fear they were not free:
Wiser it were in the children
to think this home a blessing.
Soon as the earl had bidden,
their food upon the maids they all were pressing.
After they had eaten,
and while with them he sat,
The lord of the land of Garadie
the maidens did entreat
To say by whom such fair ones
were brought unto that shore.
The children, at his asking,
only felt their sorrow grow the more.
First answered him the eldest
of those who with him sat:
“I come from a far-off kingdom,
(my lord, now hear my fate;)
I was born in the land of India,
a land wherein my father
Was king while he was living,
but I, alas! the crown must leave to another.”
Then spake the maid next younger:
“I too have come from far;
Erewhile a strong old griffin
did me from Portugal bear.
A king in the land was my father;
none than he was prouder,
Nor for a mighty ruler,
far or near, were ever praises louder.”
Then the youngest maiden,
who by the earl sat near,
To him spoke low and modestly,
and said: “I pray you hear;
From Iserland I was carried,
my father there held power;
But from those who hoped to rear me,
alas! afar was I borne in an evil hour.”
The high-born knight then answered:
“By God ’tis ordered well,
Since you among your kinsfolk
not long were left to dwell;
Now, at last, by his kindness
you are freed from dangers,
For I within these borders
have found you living here, such lovely strangers.”
However much he asked them,
they yet to tell were loath,
How unto them it happened
grim death had spared them both,
When erewhiles the griffin
unto his nest had brought them.
Many had been their sorrows;
no more to speak of these the maids bethought them.
Then said the worthy leader,
turning to the youth;
“My dearest friend and fellow,
now let me hear the truth;
Since unto me these maidens
their sorry tale have given,
From you would I hear gladly,
and learn the land and kin whence you were riven.”
To him wild Hagen answered:
“That will I tell to you;
One of those dreadful griffins
bore me hither too.
Sigeband was my father;
in Ireland once was I living;
But long with these lovely maidens
I since have dwelt, with many sorrows striving.”
Then they all besought him
to say how it befell
That, living with the griffins
he had come off so well.
To them young Hagen answered:
“To God it all was owing;
But now I have cooled my anger;
no more for them my heart with hate is glowing.”
Then spake the lord of Garadie:
“I fain would learn from you
How you were freed from danger?”
He said: “I quickly slew
Both the old and the young ones;
not one of those is living
By whom my life was threatened,
and who to me such fear were daily giving.”
Then said all the sailors:
“Your strength indeed was great;
For every man and woman
to praise you it were meet.
A thousand of us truly
’gainst them in, vain had striven,
Nor ever could have slain them;
truly to you have blessings great been given.”
The earl and all his followers
were of the boy afraid;
His strength was past all measure,
and sorrow for them made.
They would by craft his weapons
have taken from him gladly,
But these he sternly guarded,
and soon, thro’ him, it ended for them sadly.
Then spake the earl yet further:
“It now has happened well,
After our toilsome wanderings,
and all that us befell.
But since you are a kinsman
of my foeman, Sigeband,
And here have come from Ireland,
I as a hostage hold you in my hand.
“You come to me most fitly,
as you shall know ere long,
For many of your kindred
have done to me great wrong.
In Garadie’s fair kingdom,
which lies too near their border,
In a heavy fight, my warriors
were seized upon and murdered by their shameful order.”
Then answered him young Hagen:
“Of all the wrongs they did
I am wholly guiltless;
if me to them you lead
I their hearts will soften,
and so will the strife be ended.
Let hope to me be granted
that I on my kinsmen’s shore may soon be landed.”
Then said the earl to Hagen:
“For a pledge must you abide,
And I shall keep these maidens
to live at court by my side;
They will swell my greatness,
and I shall be their owner.”
Then thought the youthful Hagen,
such words to be to him a wrong and a dishonor.
He quickly said in anger:
“No bondsman will I be;
That may no man ask for,
who would unscathed go free.
And now, my worthy sailors,
you needs to my land must bear me;
I will reward you gladly,
and to give you clothes and gold will never spare me.
“The earl has thought my maidens
his own shall ever be;
But they shall yet be happy,
and shall of him be free.
Whoe’er is blest with wisdom,
let him my bidding follow;
Look to your sails, and turn them,
and guide the ship to Ireland, o’er the billow.”
The men, as the earl had bidden,
to seize the boy now dared,
But boldly did he meet them,
and for their lives they feared.
He by the hair caught thirty,
and into the water flung them;
Soon the strength of his body
was known to all, and dreaded much among them.
Had not the kindly maidens
sought to end the fight,
Soon the earl of Garadie
he would have killed outright.
’Gainst neither low nor mighty
did his anger falter;
These warriors and sailors
now to Ireland’s shores their way must alter.
They began at once to hasten,
lest he their lives might take;
For now the wrath of Hagen
made them with fear to quake.
For seventeen days the sailors
from toiling never rested,
And sorely were they frightened;
whene’er he seemed unkind they ills forecasted.
When he now drew nearer
unto his father’s shore,
He saw the roomy castles
he well had known before;
Soon a lofty palace
he spied at the edge of the river;
Three hundred towers fully
he there beheld, as strong and good as ever.
In it dwelt King Sigeband,
with his proud and queenly wife.
Again each pilgrim sailor
thought to lose his life;
For should the lord of Ireland
aught of them be learning,
They feared that he would slay them;
but Hagen stood between, his anger turning.
Then spake unto the pilgrims
that brave and warlike man:
“Your peace will I make gladly,
altho’ I do not reign;
I hold no sway in the kingdom,
but thither will I be sending,
And ’twixt yourself and my father
of the hatred old I soon will make an ending.
“Would any now be doing
what wealth to him will bring,
Let him my errand carry.
Whoever to the king
Shall say what I shall bid him,
gold will I give him truly;
And also, very gladly,
my father and my mother will reward him duly.”
Twelve of the stranded pilgrims
he bade to ride away:
“Now ask of the king, my father,”
thus the youth did say,
“Whether to see young Hagen,
his son, he still is yearning—
Him who erst by the griffin
was stolen far away, heart-sorrow learning.
“I know that what you tell him
the king will not believe;
Then ask you of my mother
if she her faith will give,
And if for her child to own me
she will at last be willing,
If I upon my bosom
will show a golden cross, the proof fulfilling.”
When those he sent had ridden
farther into the land,
They found, in the palace seated,
Queen U-te and Sigeband.
Then knew the king that the riders
from Garadie came thither,
And that they to him were foemen;
at this both he and his men were wroth together.
He asked of them how dared they
to come within his land?
Then one among them answered:
“We are sent here at the hand
Of your son, the youthful Hagen.
If any fain would meet him,
He now is here, so near you,
that you ere many hours, in truth, may greet him.”
Then spake the kingly Sigeband:
“To cheat there is no need;
The loss of my dear little one,
who hath so long been dead,
Still my heart’s deep sorrow
doth too oft awaken.”
“Ask, then, the queen, your lady,
if for a falsehood should our word be taken?
“The little boy so often
in her fond care has been,
She knows if on his bosom
a golden cross was seen.
And if upon this wanderer
be found the selfsame token,
You as your child can own him;
you then will grant that truth by us is spoken.”
Then to the Lady U-te
the tale was quickly told;
Glad was she of the tidings,
yet mourned she as of old.
She said: “Now let us hasten,
that the truth no more be hidden.”
Her lord then bade to saddle;
and steeds for himself and his bravest knights were bidden.
Straightway one of the pilgrims
to the fair Queen U-te said:
“I will tell you, if you listen,
what now to do you need.
You first must carry clothing
for each young lovely maiden
Whose coming does you honor;
as followers of your son were they hither bidden.”
Soon brought they richest clothing,
and tiring-women, too;
The queen was also followed
by men both brave and true.
They found the youthful Hagen,
who on the shore was standing;
And many men from Garadie,
who with the wandering boy on the beach were landing.