It came to pass one evening,
good luck did so befall,
That Horant, the knight of Daneland,
sang before them all.
His singing was so wondrous
that all who listened near him
Found his song well-pleasing;
the little birds all hushed their notes to hear him.
King Hagen heard him gladly,
and with him all his men:
The song of the Danish Horant
friends for him did gain.
Likewise the queenly mother
hearkened with ear befitting,
As it sounded thro’ the opening
where she upon the leaded roof was sitting.
Then spake the fair young Hilda:
“What is it that I hear?
Just now a song the sweetest
was thrilling on mine ear,
That e’er from any singer
I heard until this hour.
Would to God in heaven
my chamberlain to raise such notes had power!”
Then she bade them bring her
him who so sweetly sung;
Soon as the knight came forward,
thanks were on her tongue.
For her with song the evening
blissfully was ended;
By Lady Hilda’s women
the minstrel-knight was carefully befriended.
Then spake the lovely Hilda:
“Once more you must let us hear
The songs that you this evening
have made to us so dear.
Truly it were blissful
every day, at even,
To hear from you such singing;
for this would great reward to you be given.”
“Since you your thanks, fair lady,
have thus on me bestowed,
Every day will I gladly
sing you a song as good;
And whoso listens rightly
shall find his pains departed,
His cares shall all be lessened,
and he henceforth will feel himself light-hearted.”
When he his word had given,
forthwith he left the queen.
Great reward in Ireland
did his singing win;
Never in his birthland
had such to him been meted.
Thus did the knight from Denmark
give his help to Hettel, as him befitted.
Soon as the night was ended,
with the early dawn of day,
Horant raised his carol;
the birds soon stopped their lay,
And to his song they listened,
while in hedges hidden.
The folk who yet were sleeping
rested no more, by his sweet tones upbidden.
Horant’s song rose softly,
higher and yet more sweet;
King Hagen also heard it,
while near his wife was his seat.
From out their inner chamber
drawn to the roof, they waited;
Their guest of this had warning;
and Hilda the young gave ear, where she was seated.
The daughter of wild Hagen
with her maids around her heard
From where they sat and listened;
and now each little bird
Wholly forgot his singing,
and in the courtyard lighted;
The warriors hearkened also,
and well the song of the Danish minstrel greeted.
Thanks to him were given
by women and by men;
“But,” said the Danish Fru-te,
“would that I ne’er again
Such songs might hear him singing.
Whom would he be pleasing?
To whom is my witless nephew
such worthless morning-hymns so bent on raising?”
Then spake King Hagen’s liegemen:
“My lord, let him be heard;
There’s none so sick is lying
but would in truth be cheered,
If to the songs he listened
which fall from him so sweetly.”
Said Hagen: “Would to Heaven
such skill to sing were mine; ’twould glad me greatly.”
When the knightly minstrel
three songs to the end had sung,
No one there who heard him
thought they were too long,
The turn of a hand, not longer,
they had thought it lasted,
E’en if they had listened
while for a thousand miles a horseman hasted.
When his song he ended,
and to leave his seat was seen,
The youthful, queenly maiden
more blithe had never been,
Nor decked, at early morning,
in gayer clothes or better;
Forthwith the high-born lady
sent to beg her father now to meet her.
Then came her father quickly,
and on the maiden looked,
While, in a mood of sadness,
her father’s chin she stroked;
With her hand she coaxed him,
to make her word the stronger,
And said: “My dearest father,
bid that he at court may sing yet longer.”
He answered: “Best loved daughter,
if again, at the hour of eve,
His songs he deigns to sing you,
a thousand pounds I’ll give.
But now a mien so lofty
these guests of ours are wearing,
To us ’tis not so pleasant
here, at court, to give his songs a hearing.”
However much she pressed him,
would the king no longer stay;
Then strove again young Horant,
and never on any day,
Had his knightly song been better.
Sick and well together
All lost their wits in hearing,
and none could leave who to listen once came hither.
The wild beasts in the forest
let their pasture grow;
The little worms that creeping
through grass are wont to go,
The fishes, too, that ever
amidst the waves were swimming,
All now stopped to listen;
the singer’s heart with pride was overbrimming.
Whatever he might sing to them,
to no one seemed it long;
Ill vied with his song the choral
which by priests is sung.
Even the bells no longer
rang as of yore so sweetly;
Every one who heard him
was moved by Horant’s song, and saddened greatly.
Then begged the lovely maiden
that he to her be brought;
Without her father’s knowledge,
she slyly this besought.
From her mother, Hilda, also
must the tale be hidden
That unto her, in her bower,
unknown to all, the minstrel had been bidden.
It was a yielding chamberlain
who did the wages gain,
That, for his help, she gave him;
red gold it was, I ween.
Glittering and heavy,
with armlets twelve, full-weighted.
’Twas thus within her bower
the maid, at eventide, the singer greeted.
By hidden ways he did it;
Horant was glad indeed
That such goodwill and kindness,
at court, had been his meed.
To win her love for his master
from far had he been faring;
To his tuneful skill he owed it
that she such friendly will to him was bearing.
She bade her faithful chamberlain
to stand before the house;
That so there might be no one
who could the threshold cross
Until the songs were ended,
soon heard with praises truthful.
None went into her bower
but Horant only and Morunc the youthful.
She bade the bard be seated:
“Now sing to me once more,”
Thus spake the high-born maiden,
“those songs I heard before.
For this I feel sore craving;
than aught beside ’tis sweeter
Unto your lays to listen;
than any gem or pastime ’tis far better.”
“If I might dare to sing to you,
most fair and lovely maid,
And never need be fearful
for this to lose my head,
Thro’ your father’s anger,
never will I falter
In any wise to serve you,
if in my master’s land you’ll seek a shelter.”
He then began a ditty
of a mermaid of Amilé,
Which never man nor Christian
had learned to sing or say,
Although he may have heard it
on some wild, unknown water.
In this the good knight, Horant,
gave honor meet at court to Hagen’s daughter.
At last, when he the love-song
had sung unto the end,
Then said the lovely maiden:
“Thanks I give, my friend.”
She drew a ring from her finger,
nought of gold were fairer,
And said: “I give it gladly;
be this of my goodwill to you the bearer.”
Now her word she pledged him,
and with it gave her hand:
“Should she of a crown be wearer,
and ever sway the land,
That ne’er by the hand of any
need he be further driven
Than unto her in her castle;
there to live in honor would leave be given.”
Of all she pressed upon him
nothing would he take
Unless indeed a girdle.
He said: “Let no man speak,
And say that I the maiden
e’er for myself was wooing;
I will to my master bring her,
and for this his heart shall be with bliss o’erflowing.”
She asked: “Who is thy master?
By name how is he known?
Have e’er his liegemen crowned him?
And any lands doth he own?
For love of thee, most truly,
goodwill I bear him ever.”
The knight from Denmark answered:
“A king so rich and mighty saw I never.”
He said: “To none betray us,
most fair and lovely maid;
To thee will I tell most gladly
what our master said,
When from his land we started,
hither to come at his bidding;
For thy dear sake, fair lady,
unto thy father’s land and castle speeding.”
She said: “Then tell me freely
the errand on which you’re sent
By him you call your master;
if my will that way is bent
I shall let you know it truly,
before we yet are parted.”
But Horant feared wild Hagen,
and began at court to feel himself faint-hearted.
To the lady thus he answered:
“To you he sends this word—
That his heart for you is longing;
his love alone is stirred.
For him, I beg, fair lady,
let now your kindness waken;
He from other women
has for your sake his love and longing taken.”
She said: “May God reward him;
such love for me he shows.
If he in birth is my fellow,
I fain would be his spouse,
If you will deign to sing to me
every morn and even.”
He said: “That will I gladly;
to this no care by you need e’er be given.”
Quoth he to the queenly Hilda:
“Most fair and high-born maid,
There daily live with my master,
and long at court have staid,
Twelve minstrels who, before me,
earn much higher praises;
But, though sweet their singing,
my lord, the king, in song still better pleases.”
She said: “If your loving master
in song so skilful be,
Of longing for him, truly,
I never can be free;
My best of thanks I give him
for the love he now is showing,
And, dared I leave my father,
gladly from here would I with you be going.”
Then spake the knightly Morunc:
“Lady, with us there are
Warriors full seven hundred:
our weal or woe they share,
And each for this is ready;
if once in our hands we have you,
Know you nor fear nor sorrow
lest we to meet wild Hagen’s wrath should leave you.”
He said: “From Hagen’s kingdom
we wish forthwith to go;
Therefore beg your father
the kindness to us to show,
Youthful, high-born maiden,
that he and your queenly mother
Will deign our bark to look on;
and you must also come, e’en if no other.”
“That will I do most gladly,
if my father’s leave you have;
Of him and those about him
this boon you now must crave,
That I and my maidens also
may ride to the shore some morning.
If he shall grant your wishes,
three days before, of the time you must give us warning.”
The first of all the chamberlains
was wont, and had a right,
Often to be with the maidens.
Just then, this very knight
There had come for pastime,
and to give to them his greeting;
There found he Horant and Morunc;
well might they fear some harm was their lives awaiting.
He said to Lady Hilda:
“Who are they sitting here?”
From the lord so hot and hasty
was never such wrath to fear.
He said: “Whoe’er allowed you
to come into this bower?
Whoso in this hath helped you
ne’er showed you falser friendship to this hour.”
She said: “Now soothe your anger:
in peace pray let them live.
If to yourself great evil
you do not wish to give,
You must unseen by any,
them to their rooms be bringing;
It else hath helped but little
that his knightly songs the minstrel here was singing.”
“Is this the knight,” he asked her,
“they say so well can sing?
E’en such a minstrel know I:
never hath any king
Had a braver fighter.
My father and his mother
Were children of one father;
worthier knight than he there’s not another.”
The maid began to ask him:
“Tell me, then, his name.”
He said: “Men call him Horant;
from the Danish land he came.
Although no crown he weareth,
he yet for one is fitted:
We now know not each other,
but once at Hettel’s court our love we plighted.”
When Morunc, too, was telling
that erst, in his fatherland,
He also had been outlawed,
his heart was sorely pained.
His eyes with tears were welling,
and now were overflowing;
Then the queenly lady
kindly looked on him, her sorrow showing.
Then saw the chamberlain also
how that his eyes were wet.
He said: “Most worthy lady,
these friends whom here we meet
I know to be my kinsmen;
help now that all goes rightly
With both these worthy champions:
most careful will I be to keep them fitly.”
Much for them he sorrowed,
and felt heart-pain, forsooth;
“Durst I before my ladies,
I would kiss upon the mouth
Each of these knights so worthy.
The days indeed are many
Since tidings of King Hettel
I could from a Hegeling ask, or learn from any.”
Then spake the maiden further:
“Since these thy kinsmen be,
Now so much the dearer
are they as guests to me.
Known unto my father
thou should’st quickly make them;
They will not then so hastily
to their homes afar across the sea betake them.”
A busy talk began they,
those two young heroes brave;
Morunc unto the chamberlain
his mind most freely gave.
He said for Lady Hilda
they came within those borders;
And that their master Hettel
to bring her back had sent them, as her warders.
Then said to them the chamberlain:
“A twofold care I feel,
As liegeman of my master,
and to help you, too, as well.
How could I turn his anger,
if he knew you now were seeking
To win his maiden daughter?
Never from here could you your way be taking.”
Then spake the knightly Horant:
“Hear well what now I say;
In four days’ time to Hagen,
we will come, and him will pray
That we may leave his kingdom,
if such may be his pleasure.
The king will then make ready
gifts for us of clothes, as well as treasure.
“We will ask for nothing further,
(help you here must lend,)
But that Hagen shall be willing,
as well beseems a friend,
To come to the shore to see us,
my lady with him riding—
His wife, the high-born Hilda;
there to see the ship in which we’re biding.
“Might we in this be lucky,
our toil we well shall spend;
And, with a happy outcome,
our sorrows have an end.
If only to the seashore
he will ride with his daughter,
We well shall be rewarded
at home by our master Hettel, for whom we sought her.”
Then from out the castle
they were led by the crafty man,
So that the kingly Hagen
mistrusted not their plan.
When, for their floating shelter,
they the courtyard quitted,
All they had done for their master
should not, I ween, by him at home be slighted.
They told the aged Wâ-te
what yet to none was known:
They said the high-born maiden
her love did freely own
Unto their master, Hettel,
for whom they now had sought her;
They talked with wise old Wâ-te
how best to bring her home across the water.
Then spake the aged Wâ-te:
“Were she once outside the gate,
And I the lovely maiden
there might only meet,
However hard the struggle
that there we had with the foeman,
To cross her father’s threshold
none again should see that lovely woman.”
Their plot, well-laid and crafty,
to no one did they break,
But slyly made them ready
their homeward way to take.
This they told the warriors
on board their ship there lying;
Not loth were they to hear it,
for now to sail the weary men were sighing.
They quickly brought together
such goods as they did own;
Then, in stillness whispered,
their hidden thought made known.
Later, throughout Ireland,
it was mourned, with bitter wailing;
Though woe it brought to Hagen,
the Hegeling’s greatness would it soon be telling.
Upon the fourth day’s morning
to court they bravely rode,
With new and well-cut clothing;
none better ever showed.
Then the guests there gathered
were their wishes speaking;
Of the king and all his liegemen
they asked that they their leave might now be taking.
Then spake to them King Hagen:
“Why will you leave my land?
So far as I was able,
I have striven for this end—
That you within my kingdom
should meet with kindness only;
Now would you hence be sailing,
leaving me here, to lead a life all lonely.”
To him old Wâ-te answered:
“The Hegeling king, our lord,
Has sent to call us homeward;
he will not hear a word
Of aught but our forgiveness.
Then, too, for us are mourning
Those we left behind us;
we therefore soon must back on our way be turning.”
Then said to him wild Hagen:
“Your loss my heart doth break;
Horses and fine clothing
deign, for my love, to take,
With gold and costly jewels.
Right well it doth beseem me
For all your gifts to pay you;
in this shall no one ever dare to blame me.”
Then said the hoary Wâ-te:
“Too rich am I to-day
That I the gold you give us
should wish to take away.
Our master, whose forgiveness
our friends have lately won us,
The rich and mighty Hettel,
in such a deed would truly never own us.
“One thing we have yet further,
my lord, to ask of thee;
(If you this kindness show us,
a worthy boon, ’twill be.)
It is that you shall witness
how well we can be feasting;
Of food for hearty eaters
we have in store what might three years be lasting.
“To all who ask we give it,
for hence we sail o’er the deep;
May God long give you honor,
yourself may He ever keep.
We now betake us homeward,
we here may bide no longer;
Now may you and your kinsfolk
ride with us to our ship; no guard were stronger.
“If but your lovely daughter,
and with her my lady, your wife,
Shall look upon our riches,
glad will it make our life,
And dear to us forever.
If this to us be granted,
Great and good King Hagen,
from you no other gifts shall e’er be wanted.”
Then to his guests he answered,
with seemly, well-bred mien:
“Since you are now so earnest,
at early morn shall be seen
A hundred mares made ready,
saddled for woman or maiden;
I, too, will ride down with them;
right glad am I that to see your ship I’m bidden.”
Then for the night they left him,
and rode away to the shore.
Then up on the beach was carried
of wine a goodly store,
That in the bark was lying;
for food they were not lacking.
By this the ship was lightened;
wisely had Fru-te of Denmark his plans been making.