Chapter_17

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Hartmut left his wooing

to wait for many a year.

Soon a tale was bruited

(’twas true what men did hear)

Of one whose name was Herwic,

a king as yet but youthful;

Often his worth was spoken,

and men yet speak of him with praises truthful.

He began his wooing,

trusting the lovely maid

Would take him for her lover;

long his hopes he fed,

And much he toiled to win her,

both with love and riches:

But though the maid was willing,

her father, Hettel, he in vain beseeches.

Though Herwic long was striving,

and men to seek her rode,

Yet was his wooing slighted;

for this his wrath he showed.

The heart of proud young Herwic

by heavy care was fettered;

Freely his love he gave her,

and thought a life with her could not be bettered.

There came at length a morning

when it to them befell

That in the Hegeling kingdom

both knights and maids as well,

With many lovely ladies,

his coming never fearing,

Before them saw bold Hartmut;

Hettel could not believe he’d be so daring.

From this did endless evil

soon come upon the land:

These guests high-born and worthy

were yet an unknown band;

Hartmut and his kinsmen

their host’s goodwill were sharing,

And he the hope still harbored

that the maid would yet the crown with him be wearing.

Now before Queen Hilda

by ladies he was seen

To stand with lofty breeding,

and with a stately mien.

There the proud young Hartmut

wore a look so knightly,

That he the love of ladies

well might ask, and ’twould be granted rightly.

Well-grown was he in body,

fair he was and bold,

Kind as well as lordly.

Why I ne’er was told

Had Hettel and Queen Hilda

from him withheld their daughter,

When he had thought to woo her;

wroth was he to be scorned when now he sought her.

Of her his heart had longed for

he now had gained the sight;

There oft were stolen glances

between Gudrun and the knight.

He made it known to the maiden,

by speech from others hidden,

That he was young King Hartmut,

and from the Norman land had lately ridden.

Then she told her wooer

the pain to her it gave;

And though she wished he ever

a happy life might have,

Yet from her father’s kingdom

she begged him now to hasten,

For in the land of Hettel

was his life at risk, and this would never lessen.

She looked on him so kindly

that now her heart was warned

That he should stay no longer,

for here his suit was spurned.

Friendly was she to Hartmut,

who her love so wanted,

But his hopes she little heeded,

and while he wooed, not much to him she granted.

At last her well-bred lover

from Hettel’s land must go;

He bore upon his shoulders

a heavy load of woe:

To wreak his wrath on Hettel

would he now be choosing,

Yet feared he, if he harmed him,

that he the maiden’s love would then be losing.

’Twas thus the daring Hartmut

the Hegeling kingdom left;

Much he felt of sadness,

though not of hope bereft.

He knew not yet the ending

of his wooing of the maiden;

For the sake of her, thereafter,

were helmets cleft, and many sorrow-laden.

When he had reached his kingdom,

and home again did turn,

Where dwelt his father and mother,

Hartmut, grim and stern,

For war with Hettel longing,

began to make him ready.

Gerlind, the old she-devil,

at all times spurred him on with hatred steady.