Now said Herwic sadly:
“Ah, welaway! Woe’s me!
If fair Gudrun, my lady,
my fall did lately see.
Should e’er the hour be coming
when I shall clasp the maiden,
And as a wife shall own her,
with blame and scorn shall I by her be laden.
“Sorely doth it shame me,
that now the gray old man
Thus has overthrown me.”
Forthwith he bade again
His men to raise his banner,
and ’gainst King Ludwig bear it;
Then rushed they on the foemen,
who might not flee the fight, but all must share it.
Ludwig heard behind him
an uproar loud and din;
Then he turned him quickly,
and Herwic sought again.
Soon he heard on helmets
many sword-blows stricken.
Those who stood near Ludwig
well might dread the wrath that both did quicken.
They sprang upon each other,
and fast and well they smote;
Blows on blows loud sounded
the stormy field throughout.
Who can tell how many
now in death were lying?
The day was lost to Ludwig,
who there his strength with Herwic would be trying.
Soon Gudrun’s betrothèd
reached over Ludwig’s shield,
And smote him ’neath his helmet;
well his sword did he wield.
Him he sorely wounded,
and strength no more did leave him;
Grim death he there awaited
until King Herwic should of life bereave him.
Then Herwic with his broadsword
smote the king anew;
At once the head of Ludwig
from off his shoulders flew.
Well repaid was Herwic
for his shameful overthrowing;
The king lay dead before him.
For this fair eyes must soon be overflowing.
Ludwig’s faithful followers,
after their king was slain,
His banner to the castle
thought to bear again;
But all too far from the gateway
they had now been straying:
From them the flag was taken,
and death must them erelong with their lord be laying.
The watchman saw from the castle
how Ludwig lost his life;
Then was heard the mourning
of knights and many a wife:
Their king, so old and mighty,
they knew in death was lying;
Gudrun and all her maidens
stood in the hall in fear, and loud were crying.
As yet the Norman Hartmut,
knew nothing of the tale,
How that the king, his father,
and kinsmen young as well,
With many bravest warriors,
now in death were sleeping,
Then he heard from the castle
the shrieks and wails of those who there were weeping.
Now the knightly Hartmut
unto his followers said:
“ ’Tis best we hence withdraw us;
how many here lie dead
Who in stormy fighting
thought our men to be slaying!
Now will we seek the castle,
and there until a better time be staying.”
To him they listened gladly,
and followed where he rode.
Great was the work of slaughter
the field around them showed,
Where with grimmest foemen
they were closely warring;
Freely had blood been flowing
beneath the hand of Hartmut and his followers daring.
“So well,” he said, “have you helped me,
who my kinsmen are,
That all my lands and riches
gladly with you I’ll share.
We now will ride to my castle,
and there to rest betake us;
Men the gates will open,
and wine for us will pour, and mead will make us.”
Fallen knights full many
they left on the field behind:
Were these of the land the owners,
still with no braver mind
They then had met the onset.
Those for the gates now striving,
By Wâ-te and his thousand
were not allowed to reach the castle living.
He with a host of fighters
near the gates was seen,
When Hartmut with his followers
sought to come within;
They in this were baffled,
and their strength were wasting.
Those who the castle guarded
heavy stones from off the wall were casting.
They hurled them down so wildly
on Wâ-te and his men,
Like hailstones they were falling,
with not a stop between.
Wâ-te recked but little
how many were dead or living,
Might he the day be gaining;
to this alone his thoughts he now was giving.
Hartmut saw old Wâ-te
before the castle-gate.
He said: “Though from our foemen
our gains this day are great,
Before it shall be ended,
for this their hate they’ll show us:
Let now the strong be heedful;
dead must many lie on the field below us.
“Fear and care it gives me
that many here are seen
Whom we must now be meeting.
Wâ-te with all his men
I see before the gateway,
there with sword-strokes hewing.
If he of the gate be keeper,
I look for little kindness he’ll be doing.
“See for yourselves, my warriors,
the gateways and the walls
By foes on all sides girded;
knight to knight there calls.
The roadways all are crowded,
whichever way we’re turning:
Gudrun’s good friends and champions
will spare no toil; to win the day they’re burning.
“That you may know too truly,
as I see already well;
Friends we must lose full many.
Howe’er it so befell,
Before the outer gateway
already see I waving
The Moorland foeman’s banner;
lest they get in, a care must you be having.
“Near to the second gateway
I see yet other foes:
I saw Lord Ortwin’s banner,
as on the breeze it rose.
Gudrun’s young brother is he;
fair women’s smiles he’s seeking:
Ere he shall cool his anger,
beneath his blows will helmets yet be breaking.
“Now see I, too, brave Herwic,
before the third gate there;
With him seven thousand followers
upon the field are near.
He comes in guise most knightly,
to win his own heart’s lady;
On him are gazing gladly
the fair Gudrun, and many maids already.
“To hasten back to my castle,
the thought too late has come.
I know not where, with my warriors,
now to seek a home.
I see the stern old Wâ-te
before the fourth gate fighting;
My many friends in the castle,
I fear indeed must long for us be waiting.
“Fly from here I cannot;
no wings for this have I;
Nor in the earth can hide me,
whatever else I try.
Neither from the foeman
to the waves can we be turning:
Now, in our lot so wretched,
what best it is to do from me be learning.
“Good knights of mine, now hearken;
there’s nothing left to do
But, to the ground alighting,
their hot life’s-blood to hew
From out the ringed armor:
fear not the word I’ve given.”
Then, from their saddles leaping,
their horses back at once from them were driven.
“Now on, brave knights and warriors!”
Hartmut called to all;
“To the castle-gates press nearer,
whatever may befall.
I yet must meet old Wâ-te,
whether I live or am dying;
To drive him from the gateway,
and from the walls, I will at least be trying.”
Soon, with swords uplifted,
rushing on were seen
The brave and youthful Hartmut,
and with him all his men.
He fell upon grim Wâ-te,
who met his coming gladly;
Now their sword-blades clattered,
and many knights lay dead, or wounded badly.
When Wâ-te saw young Hartmut
the onslaught on him make,
While Fru-te bore the banner,
in wrath old Wâ-te spake:
“I hear the swords loud ringing
of many pressing near us;
I beg, dear cousin Fru-te,
let none come out from the gates; from that now spare us.”
Then Wâ-te, wild with anger,
did on King Hartmut run;
But he, so brave and daring,
the onset would not shun.
The sun with dust was darkened,
now from the struggle rising:
Their strength was unabated;
still for good name they fought, that both were prizing.
What helped it that of Wâ-te
men said he was as strong
As six and twenty warriors?
Though this was on each tongue,
Yet still to him young Hartmut
his knightly skill was showing:
Howe’er his foe was striving,
the Norman lord and his men no less were doing.
A knight he was most truly,
and well indeed he fought;
Of the dead there lay a mountain
whom on the field he smote.
It was, forsooth, a wonder
that Hartmut had not yielded,
And died before old Wâ-te:
grim was the wrath from which himself he shielded.
Soon heard he, loudly shrieking,
old King Ludwig’s wife;
Sorely she was mourning
the loss of her husband’s life.
She said she would reward him
who felt his death past bearing,
And would Gudrun be slaying,
with all the maids who there her lot were sharing.
Then ran a worthless fellow,
to whom the fee was dear,
To where the Hegeling maidens
sat together near.
Then the hearts of the women
with many fears he loaded;
For the sake of gold to be given,
to take their lives he now was sharply goaded.
When that Hilda’s daughter
against her saw him bear
A sharp and naked weapon,
she well indeed might fear,
And mourn that, far from kindred,
she was thus forsaken.
Had not young Hartmut seen it,
the knave her head from her would then have taken.
She so forgot her breeding
that now she screamed aloud,
As if in dread of dying;
great fear made wild her mood.
’Twas the same with all her maidens,
there beside her seated,
From out the window gazing;
the ladies such behavior ill befitted.
At once the sound of her wailing
to Hartmut made her known;
And greatly did he wonder
what made her scream and moan.
Soon he saw a ruffian
whose sword was near to falling,
As if he meant to kill her.
Loudly now to him ’gan Hartmut calling:
“Who are you, low-born dastard?
For what reward or need
Do you affright these maidens,
and seek to strike them dead?
If you shall strike one lady,
I give you now this warning,
Your life shall quick be ended;
your kinsmen too shall hang, this very morning.”
Back then sprang the rascal—
his anger he did fear;
For now the youthful Hartmut
held his life not dear,
When to the homeless maidens
he his help was giving:
With care was he o’erladen,
while from grim death to free them he was striving.
Quickly then came Ortrun,
she of Norman lands,
The fair and youthful princess;
in woe she wrung her hands.
She to Gudrun came nearer,
the stately, high-born maiden,
And, at her feet down-falling,
bewept her father’s death, with sorrow laden.
She said: “Most queenly lady,
do not your tears forbear,
For all my many kinsmen
who death together share.
Bethink you, if you also
a father slain were weeping,
How you would feel, great princess.
My father slain I mourn, in death now sleeping.
“Behold, most high-born maiden,
my woe and bitter need;
How almost all my kinsmen
lie, with my father, dead:
And now the knightly Hartmut
is death from Wâ-te fearing.
If I should lose my brother,
bereft of kindred, nought could life be cheering.
“Reward the love I’ve shown you,”
said the Norman maid.
“Of all that saw your sorrow,
when none a tear did shed,
I then alone was friendly,
and had you in my keeping;
For all the wrongs they did you,
I the livelong day for you was weeping.”
Queen Hilda’s daughter answered:
“Thou wast indeed my friend;
But yet this strife so deadly
I know not how to end.
Were I indeed a warrior,
and knightly weapons wearing,
I’d stop the fighting gladly;
and none to slay your brother then were daring.”
Ortrun was sorely weeping;
she still the maid besought,
Until within the window
Gudrun at length she brought,
Who with her hand then beckoned,
and begged that it be told her
If from the land of her fathers
knights had come who did in friendship hold her.
Then the knightly Herwic
answer thus did make:
“Who are you, young maiden,
who news from us do seek?
We are not the Hegelings,
whom you see so near you;
We hither come from the Sealands.
Tell us, maiden, how we now can cheer you?”
“This do I beseech you,”
said the queenly maid:
“Sore has been the fighting;
him will I thank, indeed,
Who now cuts short the struggle.
Me will he be cheering
Who from the hands of Wâ-te
will Hartmut free in the strife that I am fearing.”
Then asked the well-bred warrior
who from the Sealands came:
“Tell me, worthy maiden,
what may be your name?”
She said: “Gudrun they call me,
of Hagen’s blood I own me;
Altho’ my birth was lofty,
of late but little love has here been shown me.”
He said: “If you, fair lady,
my dear Gudrun can be,
Then faithfully to help you
gladness will give to me;
For I, in truth, am Herwic;
you for my own I have chosen,
And fain am I to show you
how you from bonds of sorrow I can loosen.”
She said: “If you would help me,
my good and worthy knight,
I trust that you will grant me
that what I ask is right:
To me these lovely maidens
their prayers are ever making,
That from the fight with Wâ-te
some friendly hand will Hartmut soon be taking.”
“That will I do right gladly,
dearest lady mine.”
Then to his men young Herwic
called above the din:
“Now against old Wâ-te
let my flag be carried.”
Herwic then pressed forward,
and none of all his men behind him tarried.
To do the lady’s bidding
hard it was for him;
But Herwic called out loudly
to Wâ-te old and grim,
And said, “My dear friend Wâ-te,
to grant my wish be ready:
Let strife be ended quickly:
this is the prayer of many a lovely lady.”
Then spake in wrath old Wâ-te:
“Sir Herwic, get you gone!
Did I mind the will of a woman,
how should I do my own?
If I thought to spare the foeman,
unasked I’d do it even.
I will not do your bidding:
Hartmut to pay for his sins must now be driven.”
Herwic, for love of his lady,
on both the fighters sprang
Right fearlessly and boldly;
loud the sword-blades rang.
Wâ-te was wild with anger,
and bitter pain it gave him
That, ere the foeman yielded,
Herwic from his hand should dare to save him.
Then he smote King Herwic
a strong and heavy blow,
Ere he could part the fighters,
and quickly laid him low;
Now rushed the men of Herwic,
and did from Wâ-te bear him.
Hartmut was seized and taken,
though Herwic and his knights had sought to spare him.