I

The day it now was ended, the night was near at hand;
Deep care was now besetting the travel-tainted band,
When they should take their slumber; for rest they sorely yearn'd.
That question put Sir Hagan, and answer soon return'd.

II

To th' host thus spake King Gunther, "God grant, you long may live!
Fain would we now repose us; such leave, I pray you, give.
If so you wish, to-morrow we'll come at break of day."
The host dismiss'd them gladly, and all went each his way.

III

Sore throng'd were then the strangers, such crowds to see them ran;
Thereat the valiant Folker thus to the Huns began.
"How dare you crowd and press us, ill-train'd, unnurtur'd crew?
Give place, or you'll discover 'twill be the worse for you.

IV

"My fiddlestick's no feather; on whom I let it fall,
If he has friends that love him, 'twill set them weeping all.
Make way then for us warriors, for so it seems me right.
We're equals all in knighthood, not so in mood and might."

V

While thus in wrath the minstrel reprov'd the jostling crowd,
Hagan, who had gone forward, look'd back and cried aloud,
"List to the valiant gleeman; he gives you good advice;
To your quarters, knights of Kriemhild! Let us not warn you twice.

VI

"Your malice lacks performance; e'en now, methinks, you doubt;
So, if you would aught with us, by daylight seek us out,
And, for this night, to slumber leave us wayfarers free.
Never, I ween, did warriors so long for it as we."

VII

Then led were the bold strangers thence to a spacious hall.
For rest as for convenience they found it furnish'd all
With beds, long, broad and sumptuous, arrang'd throughout the room,
Dame Kriemhild still was plotting their bale and deadly doom.

VIII

Many a fine quilt from Arras you might see glittering there
Of stuff most rich and precious, and many a tester fair
Of silk from far Arabia the best that could be found,
And thereupon were borders that bright shone wide around.

IX

And coverlets in order were laid of ermine white,
And others of dark sable, whereunder every knight
Should pass the hours in slumber e'en to the dawning day.
A king with his attendants ne'er in such splendor lay.

X

"Alas for these night quarters!" the youthful Giselher cried!
"Alas for our good comrades who 'midst the Huns abide!
However kind the message that from my sister sped,
I fear, through her devices we all shall soon lie dead."

XI

"Now think not of such danger," the dauntless Hagan spake,
"Myself this night about you the sentry's charge will take.
I'll keep you safe, believe me, e'en to the dawn of day.
For so long fear for nothing; then turn his doom who may."

XII

They bow'd to the good champion, and thank'd him, as was due,
Then to the beds betook them, nor many moments flew
Ere stretch'd upon his pallet was every mighty man.
Hagan the wakeful sentry to don his arms began.

XIII

Thereat the good Knight Folker, the valiant minstrel, spake,
"If you'll not scorn it, Hagan, I'd fain your watch partake
This night, till early morning bring us both relief."
Right cordially Sir Hagan thus thank'd the friendly chief:

XIV

"Now God in heaven reward you, Folker, dear friend and true.
For ne'er another comrade I long, but only you,
What strait soe'er beset me; I'm yours to my last breath,
And well will I requite you, if hinder'd not by death."

XV

With that his glittering hauberk each girt his waist about,
Each grasp'd in hand his buckler, and straight, with courage stout
From the house forth issuing, took post outside the door,
And there with faith and manhood still watch'd their comrades o'er.

XVI

The swift-footed minstrel scarce had he left the hall,
Ere he his good buckler set down against the wall,
And back hurried thither; his viol he took in hand,
And with it as became him charm'd the way-wearied band.

XVII

Upon the stone he sat him beneath the palace door;
Minstrel more undaunted viol ne'er struck before;
He struck the strings so sweetly ever as he play'd,
That the meed of thanks to Folker each haughty stranger paid.

XVIII

The house it all re-echoed, he struck so loud and shrill;
The minstrel's strength was matchless, nor less the minstrel's skill.
Sweeter anon and softer when he to play began,
On the beds he steep'd in slumber many a care-harrow'd man.

XIX

When they in sleep were buried, and this by proof he knew,
Once more in hand his buckler grasp'd the champion true,
And, from the room forth stalking, before the tower he stepp'd,
And so the slumbering strangers from the men of Kriemhild kept.

XX

'Twas of the night the middle, or something earlier yet,
When the bright gleam of helmets the glance of Folker met
At distance through the darkness; 'twas Kriemhild's street-clad train,
To do the guests a mischief all hastening on amain.

XXI

Ere thither had Queen Kriemhild these warriors darkling sent,
She said, "For heaven's sake listen to this my fix'd intent.
Harm none of yonder sleepers, but one whom I detest,
The faithless murderer Hagan; slay him and spare the rest."

XXII

Then spake the fearless gleeman, "Friend Hagan, we must bear
(As fits us) like true comrades the wakeful warder's care.
Before the house discern I a band of men in mail,
Who, as I think, will instant our wary watch assail."

XXIII

"Hush, hush," quick answer'd Hagan, "let them yet nearer steal;
Before they can espy us, they shall our weapons feel.
Our hands thus many a headpiece shall sudden split in twain,
And send them hence with sorrow to Kriemhild back again."

XXIV

One of the Hunnish champions in a trice espied
That the door was guarded; how at once he cried,
"This plan of ours, my comrades, we must straight give o'er;
I see the minstrel standing on guard the hall before.

XXV

"Look how his helmet glitters! 'tis not more bright than stout,
To dint of steel impassive, and temper'd well throughout;
His mail like fire is glowing; by him stands Hagan too;
The guests may sleep in safety with guards so stout and true."

XXVI

Back at once they hasted; when Folker this espied,
To his valiant partner in sudden wrath he cried,
"Now let me hence, friend Hagan, after yonder crew.
Fain would I to the skulkers a question put or two."

XXVII

"No! for my sake," said Hagan, "'twould to our loss redound;
If but this post you quitted, they all would flock you round,
And bring you to such peril if once they hemm'd you in,
That I should fly to help you; then ill would fare my kin;

XXVIII

"For while we two were fighting, and both in dubious case,
Three or four of yonder cowards might in a moment's space
Rush into the chamber, and on the sleepers set,
And do them all such mischief as we could ne'er forget."

XXIX

"Yet this at least allow me," the minstrel-knight replied,
"Let's show the men of Kriemhild, we have their steps espied,
That this to-morrow morning may be denied by none,
That they a shameful treason would willingly have done."

XXX

With that behind them Folker sent forth a lusty shout,
"How now, ye men of Kriemhild? Why walk ye, arm'd, about?
For murder or for robbery is it that ye ride?
My friend and I would help you, come take us on your side."

XXXI

Not a tongue gave answer; wroth was the good knight;
"Fie! Ye bloody dastards!" he cried with all his might.
"So you would us have murder'd, sleeping, every one!
On such good knights has rarely so foul a deed been done."

XXXII

Full soon unto Queen Kriemhild the sorry tidings came,
That her men had compass'd nothing; it set her heart on flame.
Another course she ventur'd, festering with fell despite,
That brought death and destruction on many a hapless knight.