The Nibelungenlied

ADVENTURE III How Siegfried Came to Worms.

It was sel­dom that sor­row of heart per­turbed the prince. He heard tales told of how there lived in Bur­gundy a come­ly maid, fash­ioned won­drous fair, from whom he there­after gained much of joy, but suf­fer­ing, too. Her beau­ty out of mea­sure was known far and wide. So many a here heard of her no­ble mind, that it alone brought many a guest (1) to Gun­ther’s land. But how­ev­er many were seen woo­ing for her love, Kriemhild nev­er con­fessed with­in her heart that she list­ed any for a lover. He was still a stranger to her, whose rule she lat­er owned. Then did the son of Siegelind as­pire to lofty love; the woo­ing of all oth­ers was to his but as the wind, for well he wot how to gain a la­dy fair. In lat­er days the no­ble Kriemhild be­came bold Siegfried’s bride. Kins­men and liege­men enow ad­vised him, since he would have hope of con­stant love, that he woo one who was his peer. At this bold Siegfried spake: “Then will I choose Kriemhild, the fair maid of Bur­gundy, for her beau­ty be­yond mea­sure. This I know full well, nev­er was em­per­or so mighty, and he would have a wife, that it would not be­seem him to love this no­ble queen.”

Tid­ings of this reached Sieg­mund’s ear; through the talk of the courtiers he was made ware of the wish of his son. Full loth it was to the king, that his child would woo the glo­ri­ous maid. Siegelind heard it too, the wife of the no­ble king. Great­ly she feared for her child, for full well she knew Gun­ther and his men. There­fore they sought to turn the hero from this ven­ture. Up spake then the dar­ing Siegfried: “Dear fa­ther mine, I would fain ev­er be with­out the love of no­ble dames, if I may not woo her in whom my heart hath great de­light; what­so­ev­er any may aver, it will avail but naught.”

“And thou wilt not turn back,” spake the king, “then am I in sooth glad of thy will and will help thee bring it to pass, as best I may. Yet hath this King Gun­ther full many a haughty man. If there were none else but Ha­gen, the doughty knight, he can use such ar­ro­gance that I fear me it will re­pent us sore, if we woo this high-​born maid.”

Then Siegfried made re­ply: “Where­fore need that hin­der us? What I may not ob­tain from them in friend­ly wise, that my hand and its strength can gain. I trow that 1 can wrest from him both folk and land.”

To this Prince Sieg­mund replied: “Thy speech liketh me not, for if this tale were told up­on the Rhine, then durst thou nev­er ride un­to that land. Long time have Gun­ther and Ger­not been known to me. By force may none win the maid, of this have I been well as­sured; but wilt thou ride with war­riors un­to this land, and we still have aught of friends, they shall be sum­moned soon.”

“It is not to my mind,” spake again Siegfried, “that war­riors should fol­low me to the Rhine, as if for bat­tle, that I con­strain there­by the no­ble maid. My sin­gle hand can win her well — with eleven (2) com­rades I will fare to Gun­ther’s land; there­to shalt thou help me, Fa­ther Sieg­mund.” Then to his knights they gave for gar­ments furs both gray and vair. (3)

Now his moth­er Siegelind al­so heard the tale. She be­gan to make dole for her loved child, whom she feared to lose through Gun­ther’s men. Sore­ly the no­ble queen gan weep. Lord Siegfried hied him straight­way to where he saw her; to his moth­er he spake in gen­tle wise: “La­dy, ye must not weep for me; naught have I to fear from all his fight­ing men. I pray you, speed me on my jour­ney to the Bur­gun­di­an land, that I and my war­riors may have ar­ray such as proud heroes can wear with hon­or; for this I will say you gramer­cy i’ faith.”

“Since naught will turn thee,” spake then the La­dy Siegelind, “so will I speed thee on thy jour­ney, mine on­ly child, with the best of weeds that ev­er knight did wear, thee and thy com­rades. Ye shall have enow.”

Siegfried, the youth, then made low obei­sance to the queen. He spake: “None but twelve war­riors will I have up­on the way. Let rai­ment be made ready for them, I pray, for I would fain see how it standeth with Kriemhild.”

Then sate fair ladies night and day. Few enow of them, I trow, did ease them, till Siegfried’s weeds had all been wrought. Nor would he de­sist from far­ing forth. His fa­ther bade adorn the knight­ly garb in which his son should ride forth from Sieg­mund’s land. The shin­ing breast­plates, too, were put in trim, al­so the stanch hel­mets and their shields both fair and broad. Now their jour­ney to the Bur­gun­di­an land drew near; man and wife be­gan to fear lest they nev­er should come home again. The heroes bade lade their sumpters with weapons and with har­ness. Their steeds were fair and their trap­pings red with gold. No need were there to live more proud­ly than Siegfried and his men. Then he asked for leave to jour­ney to the land of Bur­gundy; this the king and queen sor­row­ful­ly vouch­safed. Lov­ing­ly he com­fort­ed them twain. “For my sake,” spake he, “must ye not weep, nor have fear for me or for my life.”

The war­riors, too, were sad and many a maid­en wept; I ween, their hearts did tell them right­ly that many of their kins­men would come to death be­cause of this. Just cause had they for wail­ing; need enow they had in sooth.

Up­on the sev­enth morn­ing, forth up­on the riv­er sand at Worms the brave war­riors pricked. Their ar­mor was of rud­dy gold and their trap­pings fash­ioned fair. Smooth­ly trot­ted the steeds of bold Siegfried’s men. Their shields were new; gleam­ing and broad and fair their hel­mets, as Siegfried, the bold, rode to court in Gun­ther’s land. Nev­er had such prince­ly at­tire been seen on heroes; their sword-​points hung down to their spurs. Sharp javelins were borne by these cho­sen knights. Siegfried wield­ed one full two spans broad, which up­on its edges cut most dan­ger­ous­ly. In their hands they held gold-​col­ored bri­dles; their mar­tin­gales were silken: so they came in­to the land. Ev­ery­where the folk be­gan to gape amazed and many of Gun­ther’s men fared forth to meet them. High-​met­tled war­riors, both knight and squire, be­took them to the lords (as was but right), and re­ceived in­to the land of their lords these guests and took from their hands the black sumpters which bore the shields. The steeds, too, they wished to lead away for ease­ment. How bold­ly then brave Siegfried spake: “Let stand the mounts of me and of my men. We will soon hence again, of this have I great de­sire. Whoso­ev­er knoweth right­ly where I can find the king, Gun­ther, the mighty, of Bur­gun­di­an land, let him not keep his peace but tell me.”

Then up spake one to whom it was right­ly known: “Would ye find the king, that can hap full well. In yon broad hall with his heroes did I but see him. Ye must hith­er hie you; there ye may find with him many a lord­ly man.”

To the king now the word was brought, that full lusty knights were come, who wore white breast­plates and prince­ly garb. None knew them in the Bur­gun­di­an land. Much it won­dered the king whence came these lord­ly war­riors in such shin­ing ar­ray, with such good shields, both new and broad. Loth was it to Gun­ther, that none could tell him this. Then Or­twin of Metz (a bold and mighty man was he) made an­swer to the king: “Since we know them not, ye should send for mine un­cle Ha­gen, and let him see them. To him are known (4) all king­doms and for­eign lands. If so be he knoweth these lords, he will tell us straight­way.”

Then bade the king that Ha­gen and his men be brought. One saw him with his war­riors strid­ing in lord­ly wise un­to the court.

“What would the king of me?” asked Ha­gen.

“There be come to my house strange war­riors, whelm here none knoweth. If ye have ev­er seen them, I pray you, Ha­gen, tell me now the truth.”

“That will I,” spake then Ha­gen. He hied him to a win­dow and over the guests he let his glances roam. Well liked him their trap­pings and their ar­ray, but full strange were they to him in the Bur­gun­di­an land. He spake: “From where­so­ev­er these war­riors be come un­to the Rhine, they may well be princes or en­voys of kings, for their steeds are fair and their gar­ments pass­ing good. Whence­so­ev­er they bear these, for­sooth high-​met­tled war­riors be they.”

“I dare well say,” so spake Ha­gen, “though I nev­er have seen Siegfried, yet can I well be­lieve, how­ev­er this may be, that he is the war­rior that strideth yon­der in such lord­ly wise. He bringeth new tid­ings hith­er to this land. By this here’s hand were slain the bold Ni­belungs, Schilbung and Ni­belung, (5) sons of a mighty king. Since then he hath wrought great mar­vels with his huge strength. Once as the hero rode alone with­out all aid, he found be­fore a moun­tain, as I have in sooth been told, by Ni­belung’s hoard full many a dar­ing man. Strangers they were to him, till he gained knowl­edge of them there.

“The hoard of Ni­belung was borne en­tire from out a hol­low hill. Now hear a won­drous tale, of how the liege­men of Ni­belung wished to di­vide it there. This the hero Siegfried saw and much it gan won­der him. So near was he now come to them, that he be­held the heroes, and the knights es­pied him, too. One among them spake: `Here cometh the mighty Siegfried, the hero of Nether­land.’ Pass­ing strange were the tid­ings that, he found among the Ni­belungs. Schilbung and Ni­belung greet­ed well the knight; with one ac­cord these young and no­ble lord­ings bade the state­ly man di­vide the hoard. Ea­ger­ly they asked it, and the lord in turn gan vow it to them.

“He be­held such store of gems, as we have heard said, that a hun­dred wains might not bear the lead; still more was there of rud­dy gold from the Ni­belung land. All this the hand of the dar­ing Siegfried should di­vide. As a guer­don they gave him the sword of Ni­belung, but they were served full ill by the ser­vice which the good knight Siegfried should ren­der them. Nor could he end it for them; an­gry of mood (6) they grew. Twelve bold men of their kith were there, mighty gi­ants these. What might that avail them! Siegfried’s hand slew them soon in wrath, and sev­en hun­dred war­riors from the Ni­belung land he van­quished with the good sword Bal­mung. (7) Be­cause of the great fear that, many a young war­rior had of the sword and of the valiant man, they made the land and its cas­tles sub­ject to his hand. Like­wise both the mighty kings he slew, but soon he him­self was sore­ly pressed by Al­berich. (8) The lat­ter weened to venge straight­way his mas­ters, till he then dis­cov­ered Siegfried’s mighty strength; for no match for him was the stur­dy dwarf. Like wild li­ons they ran to the hill, where from Al­berich he won the Cloak of Dark­ness. (9) Thus did Siegfried, the ter­ri­ble, be­come mas­ter of the hoard; those who had dared the com­bat, all lay there slain. Soon bade he cart and bear the trea­sure to the place from whence the men of Ni­belung had borne it forth. He made Al­berich, the strong, war­den of the hoard and bade him swear an oath to serve him as his knave; and fit he was for work of ev­ery sort.”

So spake Ha­gen of Troneg: “This he hath done. Nev­er­more did war­rior win such mighty strength. I wot yet more of him: it is known to me that the hero slew a drag­on and bathed him in the blood, so that his skin be­came like horn. There­fore no weapons will cut him, as hath full oft been seen. All the bet­ter must we greet this lord, that we may not earn the youth­ful war­rior’s hate. So bold is he that we should hold him as a friend, for he hath wrought full many a won­der by his strength.”

Then spake the mighty king: “Thou mayst well have right. Be­hold how valiant­ly he with his knights doth stand in lust of bat­tle, the dar­ing man! Let us go down to meet the war­rior.”

“That ye may do with hon­or,” spake then Ha­gen; “he is of no­ble race, son of a mighty king. God wot, me­thinks, he beareth him in such wise, that it can be no lit­tle mat­ter for which he hath rid­den hith­er.”

“Now be he wel­come to us,” spake then the king of the land. “He is both no­ble and brave, as I have heard full well. This shall stand him in good stead in the Bur­gun­di­an land.” Then went Lord Gun­ther to where Siegfried stood.

The host and his war­riors re­ceived the guest in such wise that full lit­tle was there lack of wor­ship. Low bowed the state­ly man, that they had greet­ed him so fair. “It won­dereth me,” spake the king straight­way, “whence ye, no­ble Siegfried, be come un­to this land, or what ye seek at Worms up­on the Rhine.”

Then the stranger made an­swer to the king: “This will I not con­ceal from you. Tales were told me in my fa­ther’s land, that here with you were the bold­est war­riors that ev­er king did gain. This I have of­ten heard, and that I might know it of a truth, there­fore am I come. Like­wise do I hear boast­ing of your val­or, that no bold­er king hath ev­er been seen. This the folk re­late much through all these lands. There­fore will I not turn back, till it be known to me. I al­so am a war­rior and was to wear a crown. Fain would I bring it to pass that it may be said of me: Right­ly doth he rule both folk and land. Of this shall my head and hon­or be a pledge. Now be ye so bold, as hath been told me, I reck not be it lief or loth to any man, I will gain from you what­so ye have — land and cas­tles shall be sub­ject to my hand.”

The king had like­wise his men had mar­vel at the tid­ings they here heard, that he was willed to take from them their land. The knights waxed wroth, as they heard this word. “How have I earned this,” spake Gun­ther, the knight, “that we should lose by the force of any man that which my fa­ther hath rules so long with hon­or? We should let it ill ap­pear that we, too, are used in knight­ly ways.”

“In no wise will I de­sist,” spake again the valiant man. “Un­less it be that through thy strength thy land have peace, I will rule it all. And shouldst thou gain, by thy strength, my an­ces­tral lands, they shall be sub­ject to thy sway. Thy lands, and mine as well, shall lie alike; whether of us twain can tri­umph over the oth­er, him shall both land and peo­ple serve.”

Ha­gen and Ger­not, too, straight­way gain­said this. “We have no wish,” spake Ger­not, “that we should con­quer aught of lands, or that any man lie dead at hero’s hands. We have rich lands, which serve us, as is meet, nor hath any a bet­ter claim to them than we.”

There stood his kins­men, grim of mood; among them, too, Or­twin of Metz. “It doth irk me much to hear these words of peace,” spake he; “the mighty Siegfried hath de­fied you for no just cause. Had ye and your broth­ers no meet de­fense, and even if he led a king­ly troop, I trow well so to fight that the dar­ing man have good cause to leave this haughty mien.”

At this the hero of Nether­land grew won­der­ly wroth. He spake: “Thy hand shall not pre­sume against me. I am a mighty king, a king’s vas­sal thou. Twelve of thy ilk durst not match me in strife.”

Then Or­twin of Metz called loud­ly for swords. Well was he fit to be Ha­gen of Troneg’s sis­ter’s son. It rued the king that he had held his peace so long. Then Ger­not, the bold and lusty knight, came in be­tween. He spake to Or­twin: “Now give over thy anger. Lord Siegfried hath done us no such wrong, but that we may still part the strife in cour­te­ous wise. Be ad­vised of me and hold him still as friend; far bet­ter will this be­seem us.”

Then spake the doughty Ha­gen: “It may well grieve us and all thy knights that he ev­er rode for bat­tle to the Rhine. He should have giv­en it over; my lord­ings nev­er would have done such ill to him.”

To this Siegfried, the mighty man, made an­swer: “Doth this irk you, Sir Ha­gen, which I spake, then will I let you see that my hands shall have do­min­ion here in the Bur­gun­di­an land.”

“I alone will hin­der this,” an­swered Ger­not, and he for­bade his knights speak aught with haugh­ti­ness that might cause rue. Siegfried, too, then bethought him of the no­ble maid.

“How might it be­seem us to fight with you?” spake Ger­not anew. “How­ev­er re­al­ly heroes should lie dead be­cause of this, we should have scant hon­or there­from and ye but lit­tle gain.”

To this Siegfried, the son of Sieg­mund, made re­ply: “Why wait­eth Ha­gen, and Or­twin, too, that he hasteth not to fight with his kin, of whom he hath so many here in Bur­gundy?”

At this all held their peace; such was Ger­not’s coun­sel. Then spake Queen Uta’s son: “Ye shall be wel­come to us with all your war-​mates, who are come with you. We shall glad­ly serve you, I and all my kin.”

Then for the guests they bade pour out King Gun­ther’s wine. The mas­ter of the land then spake: “All that we have, if ye de­sire it in hon­or­able wise, shall owe feal­ty to you; with you shall both life and goods be shared.”

At this Lord Siegfried grew of some­what gen­tler mood. Then they bade that care be tak­en of the ar­mor of the guests. The best of hos­tels that men might find were sought for Siegfried’s squires; great ease­ment they gave them. There­after they glad­ly saw the guest in Bur­gundy. Many a day they of­fered him great wor­ship, a thou­sand fold more than I can tell you. This his prowess wrought; ye may well be­lieve, full scant a one he saw who was his foe.

When­ev­er the lord­ings and their liege­men did play at knight­ly games, Siegfried was aye the best, what­ev­er they be­gan. Here­in could no one match him, so mighty was his strength, whether they threw the stone or hurled the shaft. When through cour­te­sie the full lusty knights made mer­ry with the ladies, there were they glad to see the hero of Nether­land, for up­on high love his heart was bent. He was aye ready for what­so they un­der­took, but in his heart he bare a love­ly maid, whom he had nev­er seen. She too, who in se­cret spake full well of him, cher­ished him alone. When­ev­er the pages, squires, and knights would play their games with­in the court, Kriemhild, the no­ble queen, watched them from the win­dows, for no oth­er pas­time she need­ed on such days. Had he known that she gazed on him thus, whom he bare with­in his heart, then had he had pas­time enough, I trow, for well I wot that no greater joy in all this world could chance to him.

When­ev­er he stood by the heroes in the court, as men still are wont to do, for pas­time’s sake, so win­some was the pos­ture of Siegelind’s son, that many a la­dy loved him for very joy of heart. But he bethought him many a day: “How shall that hap, that I with mine own eyes may see the no­ble maid, whom I do love with all my heart and so have done long time. Sad­ly must I stand, sith she be still a stranger to me.”

When­ev­er the mighty kings fared forth in­to their land, the war­riors all must needs ac­com­pa­ny them at hand, and Siegfried, too. This the la­dy rued, and he, too, suf­fered many pangs for love of her. Thus he dwelt with the lord­ings, of a truth, full a year in Gun­ther’s land, and in all this time he saw not once the love­ly maid, from whom in lat­er days there happed to him much joy and eke much woe.

END­NOTES: (1) “Guest” trans­lates here the M.H.G. “gest”, a word which may mean ei­ther ‘guest’ or ’stranger,’ and it is of­ten dif­fi­cult, as here, to tell to which mean­ing the pref­er­ence should be giv­en. (2) “Eleven” trans­lates the M.H.G. “selbe zwelfte”, which means one of twelve. The ac­counts are, how­ev­er, con­tra­dic­to­ry, as a few lines be­low men­tion is made of twelve com­pan­ions of Siegfried. (3) “Vair” (O.F. “vair”, Lat. “var­ius”), ‘var­ie­gat­ed’, like the fur of the squir­rel. (4) “Known”. It was a mark of the ex­pe­ri­enced war­rior, that he was ac­quaint­ed with the cus­toms and dress of var­ious coun­tries and with the names and lin­eage of all im­por­tant per­son­ages. Thus in the “Hilde­brand­slied” Hilde­brand asks Hadubrand to tell him his fa­ther’s name, and adds: “If thou tellest me the one, I shall know the oth­er.” (5) “Schilbung” and “Ni­belung”, here spo­ken of as the sons of a mighty king, were orig­inal­ly dwarfs, and, ac­cord­ing to some au­thor­ities, the orig­inal own­ers of the trea­sure. Boer, ix, 199, thinks, how­ev­er, that the name Ni­belungs was trans­ferred from Ha­gen to these dwarfs at a late stage in the for­ma­tion of the saga. (6) “An­gry of mood”. The rea­son of this anger is ap­par­ent from the more de­tailed ac­count in “Biterolf”, 7801. The quar­rel arose from the fact that, ac­cord­ing to an­cient law, Siegfried ac­quired with the sword the rights of the first born, which the broth­ers, how­ev­er, re­fused to ac­cord to him. (7) “Bal­mung”. In the old­er Norse ver­sion and in the “Thidrek­saga” Siegfried’s sword bore the name of Gram. (8) “Al­berich” is a dwarf king who ap­pears in a num­ber of leg­ends, e.g., in the “Or­tnit saga” and in “Biterolf”. Un­der the Ro­mance form of his name, “Oberon”, he plays an im­por­tant role in mod­ern lit­er­ature. (9) “Cloak of Dark­ness”. This trans­lates the M.H.G. “tarnkappe”, a word of­ten re­tained by trans­la­tors. It is formed from O.H.G. tarni, ’se­cret’ (cf. O.E. “dyrne”), and “kappe” from late Latin “cap­pa”, ‘cloak’. It ren­dered the wear­er in­vis­ible and gave him the strength of twelve men.