I

Gunther and Hagan, the warriors fierce and bold,
To execute their treason, resolv'd to scour the wold,
The bear, the boar, the wild bull, by hill or dale or fen,
To hunt with keen-edg'd javelins; what fitter sport for valiant men?

II

In lordly pomp rode with them Siegfried the champion strong.
Good store of costly viands they brought with them along.
Anon by a cool runnel he lost his guiltless life.
'Twas so devis'd by Brunhild, King Gunther's moody wife.

III

But first he sought the chamber where he his lady found.
He and his friends already had on the sumpters bound
Their gorgeous hunting raiment; they o'er the Rhine would go.
Never before was Kriemhild sunk so deep in woe.

IV

On her mouth of roses he kiss'd his lady dear;
"God grant me, dame, returning in health to see thee here;
So may those eyes see me, too; meanwhile be blithe and gay
Among the gentle kinsmen; I must hence away."

V

Then thought she on the secret (the truth she durst not tell)
How she had told it Hagan; then the poor lady fell
To wailing and lamenting that ever she was born.
Then wept she without measure, sobbing and sorrow-worn.

VI

She thus bespake her husband, "Give up that chase of thine.
I dreamt last night of evil, how two fierce forest swine
Over the heath pursued thee; the flowers turn'd bloody red.
I cannot help thus weeping; I'm chill'd with mortal dread.

VII

"I fear some secret treason, and cannot lose thee hence,
Lest malice should be borne thee for misconceiv'd offence.
Stay, my beloved Siegfried, take not my words amiss.
'Tis the true love I bear thee that bids me counsel this."

VIII

"Back shall I be shortly, my own beloved mate.
Not a soul in Rhineland know I, who bears me hate.
I'm well with all thy kinsmen; they're all my firm allies;
Nor have I from any e'er deserved otherwise."

IX

"Nay! do not, dearest Siegfried! 'tis e'en thy death I dread.
Last night I dreamt, two mountains fell thundering on thy head,
And I no more beheld thee; if thou from me wilt go,
My heart will sure be breaking with bitterness of woe."

X

Round her peerless body his clasping arms he threw.
Lovingly he kiss'd her, that faithful wife and true;
Then took his leave, and parted;—in a moment all was o'er—
Living, alas poor lady! she saw him never more.

XI

Then rode they thence, and hasten'd to a wildering forest drear.
Many a bold knight, on pastime intent and merry cheer,
In the train of Gunther and Siegfried took his way.
Stout Gernot and young Giselher at home preferr'd to stay.

XII

Many a well-laden sumpter before them cross'd the Rhine,
That for the fellow-hunters carried bread and wine.
And flesh and fish in plenty, with every dainty thing
That might become the table of such a mighty king.

XIII

Their course the noble hunters check'd in an open glade,
Where the wild beasts, that haunted the neighboring greenwood shade,
Pass'd to and fro by custom; the hunt they here would hold.
Thither at length came Siegfried; straight to the king 'twas told.

XIV

Now every path and outlet the huntsmen had beset,
When thus bespake Sir Siegfried the chiefs who there were met.
"Ye bold and dauntless warriors! who will the honor claim
To enter first the forest, and bring us to the game?"

XV

"Ere we begin our pastime," Sir Hagan straight replied,
"Here in this glade together, 'twere better first divide.
We then shall see more clearly, my lords as well as I,
Who's the most cunning sportsman of this fair company.

XVI

"Let us divide among us the huntsmen and the hounds,
Then each, where'er he pleases, beat all these woody bounds,
And who excels his comrades, shall thanks have from the rest."
Not long the hunters linger'd, but started on their quest.

XVII

Then said the good Sir Siegfried, "I do not need a pack;
One well-train'd hound will serve me the lurking beasts to track,
And the close scent to follow through every bush and brake.
We'll now begin our hunting." So Kriemhild's husband spake.

XVIII

With that an aged huntsman a watchful limehound took,
And shortly brought the champion into a shady nook,
Where store of beasts were couching; as each sprung from his lair,
The warriors, like good hunters, fell on and caught them there.

XIX

All, that the limehound started, anon with mighty hand
Were slain by noble Siegfried, the Chief of Netherland.
No beast could there outrun him, so swift his steed could race;
He won from all high praises for mastery in the chase.

XX

Whatever he attempted, he went the best before.
The first beast he encounter'd was a fierce half-bred boar.
Him with a mighty death-stroke he stretch'd upon the ground;
Just after in a thicket a lion huge he found.

XXI

Him the limehound started; his bow Sir Siegfried drew;
With a keen-headed arrow he shot the lion through.
But three faint bounds thereafter the dying monster made.
His wond'ring fellow-huntsmen thanks to Sir Siegfried paid.

XXII

Then one upon another a buffalo, an elk
He slew, four strong ure-oxen, and last a savage shelk.
No beast, how swift soever, could leave his steed behind;
Scarcely their speed could profit the flying hart or hind.

XXIII

Next the sagacious limer a monstrous wild boar trac'd;
Just then the master-hunter came sudden up in haste,
And cross'd his path undaunted as he to fly began.
Straight the churning monster at his opponent ran.

XXIV

Then forward sprung Sir Siegfried, and with his sword him slew;
Such feat, I ween, no hunter besides had dared to do.
Then leash'd they the good limehound, and from the thicket led,
And told all the Burgundians how Siegfried's chase had sped.

XXV

Then said his merry huntsmen, "Sir Siegfried, be so kind
As not our wood to empty, but leave some game behind.
There'll else be nothing living on mountain or on wold."
The champion at their jesting his laughter scarce could hold.

XXVI

They heard then all about them, throughout those forest grounds,
Such shouting and such baying of huntsmen and of hounds,
That hill and wood re-echoed with the wild uproar.
Th' attendants had uncoupled four and twenty dogs or more.

XXVII

Then full many a monster was doom'd his last to groan.
They thought with glad expectance to challenge for their own
The praise for the best hunting; but lower sunk their pride,
When to the tryst-fire shortly they saw Sir Siegfried ride.

XXVIII

The hunting now was over for the most part at least;
Game was brought in plenty and skins of many a beast
To the place of meeting, and laid the hearth before.
Ah! to the busy kitchen what full supplies they bore!

XXIX

Then bade Gunther summon the noble hunting crew
To the royal breakfast; a horn a huntsman blew
That far and wide re-echoed, and told to all around
That by the tryst-fire ready the king was to be found.

XXX

Said one of Siegfried's huntsmen, "I heard a warning blast,
That thrilling horn assures me our hunting time is past;
We must back to our fellows; answer it will I."
So through the wood resounding rang question and reply.

XXXI

Then spake the good Sir Siegfried, "Well! let us leave the wood."
His courser bore him smoothly, fast prick'd his comrades good.
With their noise they rous'd a monster, a wild bear fierce and grim.
Said Siegfried o'er his shoulder to those who follow'd him,

XXXII

"Now, comrades, look for pastime! see you yon thicket there?
Slip the dog directly; I spy a monstrous bear.
The same shall instant with us hence to the trysting-place.
To get off in safety swift he indeed must pace."

XXXIII

Straight they slipp'd the limer; off leapt the bear with speed;
Sir Siegfried thought to catch him through swiftness of his steed.
He came on fallen timber, so thus it could not be;
Then deem'd himself the monster from his fierce hunter free.

XXXIV

Down sprang from horse Sir Siegfried, and plied on foot the chase;
Naught then could aid the monster o'ermaster'd in the race.
Sir Siegfried strongly seized him, and cast a rope around,
And, ere he once could wound him, the struggling bear he bound.

XXXV

So fast the warrior bound him, he could nor scratch nor bite,
Then tied him to the saddle, and after mounted light.
So to the tryst-fire laughing with his snorting load,
By way of sport and pastime, the fearless warrior rode.

XXXVI

In his state how lordly thither he came along!
Huge was his mighty boar-spear, weighty and broad and strong;
To his spur descended the good sword that he wore;
Of ruddy gold fair glittering a hunting horn he bore.

XXXVII

Of better hunting-vesture never heard I tell.
His coat of darkest samite became the warrior well.
His cap of richest sable sat with a careless grace,
And his death-fraught quiver was bound with many a lace.

XXXVIII

With the skin of a panther the same was cover'd o'er
For its balmy sweetness; a strong bow too he bore,
Which none but with a windlass could draw, howe'er he strove,
Unless himself was present at the mark to rove.

XXXIX

All his outer garment was of a lynx's hide,
From head to foot with cunning 'twas speckled all and pied.
On either side descending of the master-hunter bold
From the rich fur there glitter'd many a bright thread of gold.

XL

Girded he was with Balmung, a broad and mighty blade,
With such keen cutting edges, that straight its way it made
Where'er it smote on helmet, and thousands did to die.
'Sooth was the lordly hunter of bearing proud and high.

XLI

Besides (of this my story to tell you every part)
Fraught was his splendid quiver with many a dreary dart;
The shaft of each was gilded, a hand's-breadth was the steel.
'Twas death of those grim arrows a single wound to feel.

XLII

So stately from the forest rode on the noble knights;
The men of Gunther mark'd him soon as he came in sight,
And ran, and held his courser, and gave him tendance fair.
Meanwhile close to the saddle lay bound the groaning bear.

XLIII

The knight, from horse alighting, soft the band untied
That bound his paws and muzzle; straight when the bear they spied,
All the pack of yelpers open'd on him loud.
The beast made for the forest, scattering the startled crowd.

XLIV

Scared by the din and uproar he through the kitchen rac'd.
Ah! how the cooks and scullions from round the fire he chas'd!
Upset were pans and kettles, and store of savory hashes,
Roast, boil'd, and stew'd together were hissing in the ashes.

XLV

From their seats upstarted the lords and all the band;
The bear flew into fury; straight gave the king command
The hounds to uncouple, and slip them on the prey.
Had it all thus ended, it had been a merry day.

XLVI

With bows and mighty boar-spears (no more was quiet there)
Upsprung the light-foot warriors and chas'd the flying bear.
The dogs there were so many, none dar'd a dart to fling.
With shouting and hallooing they made the mountains ring.

XLVII

Before the dogs he scamper'd; they follow'd where he led;
But 'twas the swift-foot Siegfried that caught him as he fled.
Once with his sword he smote him; he wallow'd in his gore.
Back to the scatter'd tryst-fire his friends the monster bore.

XLVIII

Loud shouted each beholder that 'twas a matchless blow.
Now the high-born hunters were bidden to table go.
Down in a flowery meadow sat they right merrily.
Ah! what dainty viands cheer'd that proud company!

XLIX

Still delay'd the attendants the ruddy wine to pour.
Never else were warriors better serv'd before.
But for the heinous treason with which they fram'd their plot,
All that choice band of champions were free from blame or blot.

L

Then said the noble Siegfried, "I needs must wonder here,
That joyous wine is wanting with such abundant cheer.
When so o'erflows the kitchen, how is't the cellar's dry?
Treat merry hunters better, or hunt no more will I.

LI

"I have deserv'd in Rhineland more hospitable care."
Then answering from the table spoke Gunther false and fair.
"This fault shall soon be mended, and reason done you first.
For this we may thank Hagan, who makes us die of thirst."

LII

Then said the Chief of Trony, "My lord and master dear,
I thought that this day's hunting was not to be held here,
But in the wood of Spessart, so thither sent the wine.
The like shall never happen again by fault of mine."

LIII

Then said the Netherlander, "Little thank I such care.
I look'd for seven good sumpters to mend our thirsty fare
With mead and wine of spices; if so we could not dine,
Better by far have placed us close beside the Rhine."

LIV

Then spake the Chief of Trony, "Ye noble knights and bold,
I know just to our wishes a runnel clear and cold
Close by, so be not angry, but thither let us go."
Th' advice brought many a champion sorrow and mortal woe.

LV

Yet could not then his danger the death-doom'd hero spy.
Little thought he so foully by seeming friends to die.
His heart knew naught of falsehood; 'twas open, frank and plain.
For his death dear paid thereafter who fondly hop'd to gain.

LVI

The noble knight Sir Siegfried with thirst was sore opprest,
So earlier rose from table, and could no longer rest,
But straight would to the mountain the running brook to find,
And so advanc'd the treason his faithless foes design'd.

LVII

Meanwhile were slowly lifted on many a groaning wain
The beasts in that wild forest by Siegfried's manhood slain.
Each witness gave him honor, and loud his praises spoke.
Alas! that with him Hagan his faith so foully broke.

LVIII

Now when to the broad linden they all would take their way,
Thus spake the fraudful Hagan, "Full oft have I heard say,
That none a match in swiftness for Kriemhild's lord can be,
Whene'er to race he pleases; would he grant us this to see?"

LIX

Then spake the Netherlander, Siegfried with open heart,
"Well then! let's make the trial! together we will start
From hence to yonder runnel; let us at once begin,
And he shall pass for winner who shall be seen to win."

LX

"Agreed!" said treacherous Hagan, "let us each other try."
Thereto rejoin'd stout Siegfried, "And if you pass me by,
Down at your feet I'll lay me humbled on the grass."
When these words heard Gunther, what joy could his surpass?

LXI

Then said the fearless champion, "And this I tell you more,
I'll carry all th' equipment that in the chase I wore,
My spear, my shield, my vesture—leave will I nothing out."
His sword then and his quiver he girt him quick about.

LXII

King Gunther and Sir Hagan to strip were nothing slow;
Both for the race stood ready in shirts as white as snow.
Long bounds, like two wild panthers, o'er the grass they took,
But seen was noble Siegfried before them at the brook.

LXIII

Whate'er he did, the warrior high o'er his fellows soar'd.
Now laid he down his quiver, and quick ungirt his sword.
Against the spreading linden he lean'd his mighty spear.
So by the brook stood waiting the chief without a peer.

LXIV

In every lofty virtue none with Sir Siegfried vied.
Down he laid his buckler by the water's side.
For all the thirst that parch'd him, one drop he never drank
Till the king had finish'd; he had full evil thank.

LXV

Cool was the little runnel, and sparkled clear as glass.
O'er the rill King Gunther knelt down upon the grass.
When he his draught had taken he rose and stepp'd aside.
Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.

LXVI

Dear paid he for his courtesy; his bow, his matchless blade,
His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord convey'd,
Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear,
And to find out the token survey'd his vesture near;

LXVII

Then, as to drink Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found,
He pierc'd him through the crosslet, that sudden from the wound
Forth the life-blood spouted e'en o'er his murderer's weed.
Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.

LXVIII

Between his shoulders sticking he left the deadly spear.
Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear,
As from the matchless champion whom he had butcher'd there.
Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware,

LXIX

Up he from the runnel started as he were wood.
Out from betwixt his shoulders his own huge boar-spear stood.
He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true.
The traitor for his treason had then receiv'd his due.

LXX

But, ah! the deadly wounded nor sword nor quiver found;
His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground.
This from the bank he lifted and straight at Hagan ran;
Him could not then by fleetness escape King Gunther's man.

LXXI

E'en to the death though wounded, he hurl'd it with such power,
That the whirling buckler scatter'd wide a shower
Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke.
Full gladly had the warrior ta'en vengeance with that stroke.

LXXII

E'en as it was, his manhood fierce Hagan level'd low.
Loud, all around, the meadow rang with the wondrous blow.
Had he in hand good Balmung, the murderer he had slain.
His wound was sore upon him; he writh'd in mortal pain.

LXXIII

His lively color faded; a cloud came o'er his sight;
He could stand no longer; melted all his might;
In his paling visage the mark of death he bore.
Soon many a lovely lady sorrow'd for him sore.

LXXIV

So the lord of Kriemhild among the flowerets fell.
From the wound fresh gushing his heart's blood fast did well.
Then thus amidst his tortures, e'en with his failing breath,
The false friends he upbraided who had contriv'd his death.

LXXV

Thus spake the deadly wounded, "Ay! cowards false as hell!
To you I still was faithful; I serv'd you long and well;—
But what boots all?—for guerdon treason and death I've won,
By your friends vile traitors! foully have you done.

LXXVI

"Whoever shall hereafter from your loins be born,
Shall take from such vile fathers a heritage of scorn.
On me you have wreak'd malice where gratitude was due.
With shame shall you be banish'd by all good knights and true."

LXXVII

Thither ran all the warriors where in his blood he lay.
To many of that party sure 'twas a joyless day.
Whoe'er were true and faithful, they sorrow'd for his fall.
So much the peerless champion had merited of all.

LXXVIII

With them the false King Gunther bewept his timeless end.
Then spake the deadly wounded, "Little it boots your friend
Yourself to plot his murder, and then the deed deplore.
Such is a shameful sorrow; better at once 'twere o'er."

LXXIX

Then spake the low'ring Hagan, "I know not why you moan.
Our cares all and suspicions are now for ever flown.
Who now are left, against us who'll dare to make defence?
Well's me, for all this weeping, that I have rid him hence."

LXXX

"Small cause hast thou," said Siegfried, "to glory in my fate.
Had I ween'd, thy friendship cloak'd such murderous hate,
From such as thou full lightly could I have kept my life.
Now grieve I but for Kriemhild, my dear, my widow'd wife.

LXXXI

"Now may God take pity, that e'er I had a son,
Who this reproach must suffer from deed so foully done,
That by his murderous kinsmen his father thus was slain.
Had I but time to finish, of this I well might plain.

LXXXII

"Surely so base a murder the world did never see,"
Said he, and turn'd to Gunther, "as you have done on me.
I sav'd your life and honor from shame and danger fell,
And thus am I requited by you I serv'd so well."

LXXXIII

Then further spake the dying, and speaking sigh'd full deep,
"Oh king! if thou a promise with anyone wilt keep,
Let me in this last moment thy grace and favor find
For my dear love and lady, the wife I leave behind.

LXXXIV

"Remember, she's thy sister, yield her a sister's right,
Guard her with faith and honor, as thou'rt a king and knight.
My father and my followers for me they long must wait,
Comrade ne'er found from comrade so sorrowful a fate."

LXXXV

In his mortal anguish he writh'd him to and fro,
And then said, deadly groaning, "This foul and murderous blow
Deep will ye rue hereafter; this for sure truth retain,
That in slaying Siegfried you yourselves have slain."

LXXXVI

With blood were all bedabbled the flowerets of the field.
Some time with death he struggled, as though he scorn'd to yield
E'en to the foe, whose weapon strikes down the loftiest head.
At last prone in the meadow lay mighty Siegfried dead.

LXXXVII

When now the chiefs were certain that dead was the good knight,
They laid him on a buckler with gold all richly dight,
Then counsel took together the general to mislead,
And keep the shameful secret that Hagan did the deed.

LXXXVIII

Then many said, repenting, "This deed will prove our bale;
Still let us shroud the secret, and all keep in one tale,
That the good lord of Kriemhild to hunt alone preferr'd,
And so was slain by robbers as through the wood he spurr'd."

LXXXIX

"I'll bring him home, and gladly," said Hagan, frowning stern;
"As to his wife, I reck not whether the truth she learn,
Who slander'd gentle Brunhild, and wrought her so much ill.
I care not for her weeping, do she whate'er she will."

XC

Of that same little runnel where Siegfried murder'd fell,
The true and rightful story you now shall hear me tell.
In th' Odenwald is a village, Odenheim is its name.
There still the brook is running; doubt not it is the same.