We ask you now to listen
to a tale as yet untold:
Ortwin still and Herwic
their way did onward hold
Until they found their followers
on the seashore standing.
Then ran these Hegeling liegemen
to meet them on the sands where they were landing.
Them they gladly welcomed,
and bade that they make known
The news that they were bringing,
and freely all to own.
First they asked of Ortwin,
if he could them be telling,
If still Gudrun were living,
and if in Ludwig’s land she now was dwelling?
The knightly Ortwin answered:
“Of this I may not speak
To each and all that ask it;
the truth I will not break
Till all are met together;
then shall you be hearing
All that our eyes there greeted,
when we to come near Hartmut’s walls were daring.”
The word was told to others,
and soon a mighty band
Of warriors brave and knightly
around the two did stand.
Then to them said Ortwin:
“Sad is the news I give you,
And, were my wishes granted,
gladly I’d spare the tale, for much ’twill grieve you.
“List to what has happened,
for wonders now begin;
Gudrun, my long-lost sister,
I, in truth, have seen,
And with her also Hildeburg,
erst in Ireland living.”
When he the tidings gave them,
they thought the tale he told not worth believing.
All then said together:
“It is not well to jest;
For her we long have waited,
and now our time you waste.
We hoped from Ludwig’s kingdom
you would bring her sooner;
To Ortwin and his followers
belong the shame and blame for wrongs still done her.”
“Ask you, then, King Herwic:
he, too, has seen the maid;
And he can also tell you
what wrongs on us are laid.
Could you, my friends, bethink you
of any shame that’s greater?
We found Gudrun and Hildeburg
upon the seashore standing, washing in the water.”
Soon were his kindred weeping,
all who there were seen.
At this the aged Wâ-te
right scornful was, I ween:
“Truly for women only
is such behavior fitting;
Why you weep you know not.
This, in a knight, one never should be meeting.
“But if you are in earnest,
to help Gudrun in her need,
The clothes that she has whitened
must you in war make red.
Erst white hands did wash them
for men who must be bleeding;
So you now may help her,
and soon the maid forlorn be homeward leading.”
Then said the Danish Fru-te:
“How can this be done?
How can we reach their kingdom
before our plan is known,
Before the men of Ludwig,
and Hartmut’s knights, are learning
That Hilda’s friends are gathered,
and toward the Norman land at length are turning?”
Then said the aged Wâ-te:
“Hear what ’tis best to do;
I trust before his castle
fitly to meet the foe,
If I may live to see him
there before me standing.
Brave knights, your rest now leaving,
soon on the Norman shore must you be landing.
“The air is fresh and gladsome,
the sky is broad and bright,
And, well for us it happens,
the moon will shine to-night.
From the sandy shore now hasten,
my warriors bold and daring:
Before it dawns to-morrow,
we King Ludwig’s stronghold must be nearing.”
Then they all were busy,
when thus old Wâ-te spoke;
Soon their clothes and horses
on board the ships they took.
All the night still sailing,
towards the land they hasted;
And ere the morrow’s daylight,
before the castle, on the sands they rested.
Hushed were all by Wâ-te,
throughout the warlike band,
As soon as they to rest them
lay down upon the sand.
To his water-weary followers
leave for this was granted;
Their shields about them spreading,
on them they laid their heads, for sleep they wanted.
“Whoe’er to-morrow morning
hopes to gain the fight
Must not,” said the aged Wâ-te,
“oversleep to-night.
For the struggle now before us
we hardly can be waiting;
As soon as morning lightens,
then, good knights, the foe must we be meeting.”
“Further I give you warning:
whoe’er my horn shall hear
Along the seashore sounded,
soon as it meets his ear,
Let him at once make ready
the foeman to be meeting.
When I shall blow at daybreak,
no longer then may any there be waiting.
“When I again shall blow it,
let each to this give heed;
Quickly let his saddle
be laid upon his steed.
Let him then be waiting,
till I see ’tis daylight fully,
And the time has come for the onset;
let none hang back, but meet the struggle truly.”
To do as Wâ-te bade them
their word they gladly gave.
How many a lovely woman
did he of bliss bereave!
For soon their dearest kindred
unto death were wounded,
Who now were only waiting
until the horn in the early morning sounded.
“When you, my friends and kinsmen,
thrice my horn shall hear,
Then, seated on your horses,
must you your weapons wear;
Thus must you, brave warriors,
wait, your steeds bestriding,
Till me you see, well-weaponed,
under the fair Queen Hilda’s banner riding.”
Now on the seashore weary
lay they, one and all;
Very near were they resting
to old King Ludwig’s hall.
Altho’ the night had fallen,
its towers they saw while waking;
The brave and fearless warriors
in stillness lay, no sound or outcry making.
The early star of morning
now had risen high;
Then came a lovely maiden
unto the window nigh.
She there was gazing skyward,
to see when day was breaking,
That she might bring the tidings,
and rich reward from fair Gudrun be seeking.
Ere she long had waited,
there dawned on the maiden’s sight,
With its wonted gleam on the waters,
the early morning light;
Then the sheen of helmets
and many shields there flittered:
Foes had besieged the castle,
and all the sands below with weapons glittered.
Back then went the maiden
to where Gudrun she found:
“Arouse, my queenly lady,
wake from your slumber sound!
The land is held by foemen,
who will these walls be storming;
We have not been forgotten
by those at home; our friends come hither swarming.”
Gudrun, the high-born lady,
quickly sprang from her bed,
And, hasting to the window,
to the maid her thanks she said.
“For this good news you give me,
wealth shall you be earning.”
After her heavy sorrow,
now for her friends Gudrun was sorely yearning.
Rich sails were seen to flutter
near by upon the sea;
Then said the high-born maiden:
“Ah, wellaway! Woe’s me!
Would that I ne’er were living!”
the wretched one was sighing:
“Many a doughty warrior
this day for me shall here in death be lying.”
While thus she was bewailing,
nearly all still slept;
But soon was one heard shouting,
who guard for Ludwig kept:
“Be up, you careless warriors!
your arms, your arms be taking!
And you, my king of Normandy!
I fear that all too late you will be waking.”
This the wicked Gerlind
heard, as the warder cried;
Then, while fast he slumbered,
she left the old king’s side.
Up to the roof of the castle
then at once she hastened;
She thence saw many foemen,
and on her devilish heart great sorrow fastened.
Back again she speeded
to where she found the king:
“Awake, my lord, make ready
for guests who followers bring!
Now hem they in your castle,
and well may they be dreaded:
That smile of young Gudrun
will cost your knights a strife as yet unheeded.”
“Hush!” then answered Ludwig,
“I will go myself to see;
We must all be bravely waiting
for whatsoe’er may be.”
Then looked he from his castle,
to see the foemen thronging;
His eyes by guests were greeted,
on whom to look he never might be longing.
Before his palace waving,
he saw their banners spread;
Then said the old King Ludwig:
“Let some one go with speed
And bear this news to Hartmut.
I for pilgrims take them,
To sell their wares come hither;
before my hall a market would they make them.”
Then they wakened Hartmut,
that he the tale might hear.
Outspoke that daring warrior:
“Let none be sad or fear.
I see full twenty princes
their blazoned banners bearing;
I ween these foes are coming
to wreak the hate they long ’gainst us are wearing.”