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The Nibelungenlied by Anonymous - ADVENTURE XIV How The Queens Reviled ...

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The Nibelungenlied

ADVENTURE XIV How The Queens Reviled Each Other.

On a day be­fore the ves­per tide a great tur­moil arose, which many knights made in the court, where they plied their knight­ly sports for pas­time’s sake, and a great throng of men and wom­en hast­ed there to gaze. The roy­al queens had sat them down to­geth­er and talked of two wor­ship­ful knights.

Then spake the fair Kriemhild: “I have a hus­band who by right should rule over all these king­doms.”

Quoth La­dy Brun­hild: “How might that be? If none oth­er lived but he and thou, then might these king­doms own his sway, but the while Gun­ther liveth, this may nev­er hap.”

Kriemhild replied: “Now dost thou see, how he standeth, how right roy­al­ly he walketh be­fore the knights, as the moon doth be­fore the stars? There­fore must I needs be mer­ry of mood.”

Said La­dy Brun­hild: “How­ev­er state­ly be thy hus­band, how­so wor­thy and fair, yet must thou grant the palm to Knight Gun­ther, the no­ble broth­er of thine. Know of a truth, he must be placed above all kings.”

Then Kriemhild spake again: “So doughty is my hus­band, that I have not laud­ed him with­out good cause. His wor­ship is great in many things. Dost thou be­lieve it, Brun­hild, he is eas­ily Gun­ther’s peer.”

“For­sooth thou must not take it amiss of me, Kriemhild, for I have not spo­ken thus with­out good rea­son. I heard them both aver, when I saw them first of all, and the king was vic­tor against me in the games, and when he won my love in such knight­ly wise, that he was liege­man to the king, and Siegfried him­self de­clared the same. I hold him there­fore as my vas­sal, sith I heard him speak thus him­self.”

Then spake fair Kriemhild: “Ill had I then sped. How could my no­ble broth­ers have so wrought, that I should be a mere vas­sal’s bride? There­fore I do be­seech thee, Brun­hild, in friend­ly wise, that for my sake thou kind­ly leave off this speech.”

“I’ll not leave it off,” quoth the king’s wife. “Why should I give up so many a knight, who with the war­rior doth owe us ser­vice?”

Kriemhild, the pass­ing fair, waxed wroth out of wit. “Thou must forego that ho ev­er do you a vas­sal’s ser­vice; he is wor­thi­er than my broth­er Gun­ther, the full no­ble man. Thou must re­tract what I have heard thee say. Certes, it won­dereth me, sith he be thy vas­sal and thou hast so much pow­er over us twain, why he hath ren­dered thee no trib­ute so long a time. By right I should be spared thy over­ween­ing pride.”

“Thou bedrest thee too high,” spake the king’s wife. “I would fain see whether men will hold thee in such high hon­or as they do me.”

The ladies both grew won­der­ly wroth of mood. Then spake the La­dy Kriemhild: “This must now hap. Sith thou hast de­clared my hus­band for thy liege­man, now must the men of the two kings per­ceive to-​day whether I durst walk be­fore the queen to church. Thou must see to-​day that I am no­ble and free and that my hus­band is wor­thi­er than thine; nor will I my­self be taxed there­with. Thou shalt mark to-​day how thy liege­wom­an goeth to court be­fore the knights of the Bur­gun­di­an land. I my­self shall be more wor­ship­ful than any queen was known to be, who ev­er wore a crown.” Great hate enow rose then be­twixt the ladies.

Then Brun­hild an­swered: “Wilt thou not be a liege­wom­an of mine, so must thou sun­der thee with thy ladies from my train when that we go to church.”

To this Kriemhild replied: “In faith that shall be done.”

“Now ar­ray you, my maids,” spake Siegfried’s wife. “I must be here with­out re­proach. Let this be seen to-​day, and ye do have rich weeds. Brun­hild shall fain de­ny what she hath here avert­ed.”

They need­ed not much bid­ding, but sought rich robes and many a dame and maid at­tired her well. Then the wife of the no­ble king went forth with her train. Fair Kriemhild, too, was well ar­rayed and three and forty maid­ens with her, whom she had brought hith­er to the Rhine. They wore bright ves­ture wrought in Ara­by, and thus the fair-​fash­ioned maids be­took them to the min­ster. All Siegfried’s men await­ed them be­fore the house. The folk had mar­vel whence it chanced that the queens were seen thus sun­dered, so that they did not walk to­geth­er as afore. From this did many a war­rior lat­er suf­fer dire dis­tress. Here be­fore the min­ster stood Gun­ther’s wife, while many a good knight had pas­time with the come­ly dames whom they there es­pied.

Then came the La­dy Kriemhild with a large and no­ble train. What­ev­er kind of clothes the daugh­ters of no­ble knights have ev­er worn, these were but the wind against her ret­inue. She was so rich in goods, that what the wives of thir­ty kings could not pur­vey, that Kriemhild did. An’ one would wish to, yet he could not aver that men had ev­er seen such cost­ly dress­es as at this time her fair-​fash­ioned maid­ens wore. Kriemhild had not done it, save to anger Brun­hild. They met be­fore the spa­cious min­ster. Through her great hate the mis­tress of the house in evil wise bade Kriemhild stand: “For­sooth no vas­sa­less should ev­er walk be­fore the queen.”

Then spake fair Kriemhild (an­gry was her mood): “Couldst thou have held thy peace, ’twere well for thee. Thou hast dis­graced thee and the fair body of thine. How might a vas­sal’s le­man (1) ev­er be the wife of any king?”

“Whom callest thou here le­man?” spake the queen.

“That call I thee,” quoth Kriemhild. “Thy fair per­son was first ca­ressed by Siegfried, my dear hus­band. Certes, it was not my broth­er who won thy maid­hood. Whith­er could thy wits have wan­dered? It was an evil trick. Where­fore didst thou let him love thee, sith he be thy vas­sal? I hear thee make plaint with­out good cause,” quoth Kriemhild.

“I’ faith,” spake then Brun­hild, “Gun­ther shall hear of this.”

“What is that to me?” said Kriemhild. “Thy pride hath be­wrayed thee. With words thou hast claimed me for thy ser­vice. Know, by my troth, it will ev­er grieve me, for I shall be no more thy faith­ful friend.”

Then Brun­hild wept. Kriemhild de­layed no longer, but en­tered the min­ster with her train be­fore the queen. Thus there rose great ha­tred, from which bright eyes grew dim and moist.

What­so men did or sang to God’s ser­vice there, the time seemed far too long for Brun­hild, for she was sad of heart and mood. Many a brave knight and a good must lat­er rue this day. Brun­hild with her ladies now went forth and stopped be­fore the min­ster. Her-​thought: “Kriemhild must tell me more of what this word- shrewd wom­an hath so loud­ly charged me. Hath Siegfried made boast of this, ’twill cost his life.”

Now the no­ble Kriemhild came with many a valiant liege­man. La­dy Brun­hild spake: “Stand still a while. Ye have de­clared me for a le­man, that must ye let be seen. Know, that through thy speech, I have fared full ill.”

Then spake the La­dy Kriemhild: “Ye should have let me pass. I’ll prove it by the ring of gold I have up­on my hand, and which my lover brought me when he first lay at your side.”

Brun­hild had nev­er seen so ill a day. She spake: “This cost­ly hoop of gold was stolen from me, and hath been hid full long a time from me in evil wise. I’ll find out yet who hath ta’en it from me.”

Both ladies now had fall­en in­to grievous wrath.

Kriemhild replied: “I’ll not be called a thief. Thou hadst done bet­ter to have held thy peace, an’ thou hold thine hon­or dear. I’ll prove it by the gir­dle which I wear about my waist, that I lie not. Certes, my Siegfried be­came thy lord.”

She wore the cord of silk of Nin­eveh, set with pre­cious stones; in sooth ’twas fair enow. When Brun­hild spied it, she be­gan to weep. Gun­ther and all the Bur­gun­di­an men must needs now learn of this.

Then spake the queen: “Bid the prince of the Rhineland come hith­er. I will let him hear how his sis­ter hath mocked me. She saith here open­ly that I be Siegfried’s wife.”

The king came with knights, and when he saw his love a-​weep­ing, how gen­tly he spake: “Pray tell me, dear la­dy, who hath done you aught?”

She an­swered to the king: “I must stand un­hap­py; thy sis­ter would fain part me from all mine hon­ors. I make here plaint to thee she doth aver that Siegfried, her hus­band hath had me as his le­man.”

Quoth King Gun­ther: “Then hath she done ill.”

“She weareth here my gir­dle, which I have lost, and my ring of rud­dy gold. It doth re­pent me sore that I was ev­er born, un­less be thou clear­est me of this pass­ing great shame, for that I’ll serve thee ev­er.”

King Gun­ther spake: “Have him come hith­er. He must let us hear if he hath made boast of this, or he must make de­nial, the hero of Nether­land.” One bade fetch at once Kriemhild’s love.

When Siegfried saw the an­gry dames (he wist not of the tale), how quick­ly then he spake: “I fain would know why these ladies weep, or for what cause the king hath had me fetched.”

Then King Gun­ther spake: “It doth rue me sore, for­sooth. My La­dy Brun­hild hath told me here a tale, that thou hast boast­ed thou wast the first to clasp her love­ly body in thine arms; this La­dy Kriemhild, thy wife, doth say.”

Then spake Lord Siegfried: “And she hath told this tale, she shall rue it sore, or ev­er I turn back, and I’ll clear me with solemn oaths in front of all thy men, that I have not told her this.”

Quoth the king of the Rhineland: “Let that be seen. The oath thou dost of­fer, and let it now be giv­en, shall free thee of all false charges.”

They bade the proud Bur­gun­di­ans form a ring. Siegfried, the bold, stretched out his hand for the oath; then spake the mighty king: “Thy great in­no­cence is so well known to me, that I will free thee of that of which my sis­ter doth ac­cuse thee and say, thou hast nev­er done this thing.”

Siegfried replied: “If it boot my la­dy aught to have thus sad­dened Brun­hild, that will sure­ly cause me bound­less grief.”

Then the lusty knights and good gazed one up­on the oth­er. “One should so train wom­en,” spake again Siegfried, the knight, “that they leave haughty words un­said. For­bid it to thy wife, and I’ll do the same to mine. In truth, I do shame me of her great dis­cour­te­sie.”

Many fair ladies were part­ed by the speech. Brun­hild mourned so sore, that it moved King Gun­ther’s men to pity. Then came Ha­gen of Troneg to his sovran la­dy. He found her weep­ing, and asked what grief she had. She told him then the tale. On the spot he vowed that Kriemhild’s lord should rue it sore, or he would nev­er­more be glad. Or­twin and Ger­not joined their par­ley and these heroes coun­seled Siegfried’s death. Gisel­her, the son of the no­ble Uta, came hith­er too. When he heard the talk, he spake full true: “Ye trusty knights, where­fore do ye this? Siegfried hath not mer­it­ed for­sooth such hate, that he should there­fore lose his life. Certes, wom­en oft grow an­gry over lit­tle things.”

“Shall we then raise cuck­olds?” an­swered Ha­gen; “such good knights would gain from that but lit­tle hon­or. Be­cause he hath boast­ed of my liege la­dy, I will rather die, an’ it cost him not his life.”

Then spake the king him­self: “He hath shown us naught but love and hon­or, so let him live. What booteth it, if I now should hate the knight? He was ev­er faith­ful to us and that right will­ing­ly.”

Knight Or­twin of Metz then spake: “His great prowess shall not in sooth avail him aught. If my lord per­mit, I’ll do him ev­ery evil.”

So with­out cause the heroes had de­clared a feud against him. In this none fol­lowed, save that Ha­gen coun­selled all time Knight Gun­ther the that if Siegfried no longer lived, then many king­ly lands would own his sway. At this the king grew sad, so they let it rest.

Joust­ing was seen once more. Ho, what stout shafts they splin­tered be­fore the min­ster in the pres­ence of Siegfried’s wife, even down to the hall! Enow of Gun­ther’s men were now in wrath. The king spake: “Let be this mur­der­ous rage, he is born to our hon­or and to our joy. Then, too, the won­der­ly bold man is so fierce of strength, that none durst match him, if he marked it.”

“No, not he,” spake Ha­gen then, “Ye may well keep still; I trow to bring it to pass in se­cret, that he rue Brun­hild’s tears. Certes, Ha­gen hath bro­ken with him for all time.”

Then spake King Gun­ther: “How might that chance?”

To this Ha­gen made an­swer: “I’ll let you hear. We’ll bid mes­sen­gers, that be not known to any here, ride in­to our land, to de­clare war up­on us open­ly. Then do ye say be­fore your guests that ye and your men will take the field. When that is done, he will vow to serve you then and from this he shall lose his life, an’ I learn the tale from the bold knight’s wife.”

The king fol­lowed his liege­man Ha­gen in evil wise. These cho­sen knights gan plan great faith­less­ness, or ev­er any one was ware. From two wom­en’s quar­rel­ing full many a hero lost his life.

END­NOTES: (1) “Le­man” (M.E. “lem­man”, O.E. “le­of mann”, ‘lief man’, i.e., ‘dear one’), ‘mis­tress’ in a bad sense.