 CHAPTER XI of GUDRIN This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. GUDRIN by Ferdinand Schmidt. Translated by George Putnam Upton. Translator's preface. The charming story of GUDRIN is a romance of the old heroic period, written by some unknown poet of Austria or Bavaria in the 13th century. Next to the Nibelungen lead, it is the most important of the German epic poems. Indeed, some of the Personae in GUDRIN are found in the lead, though varying in personal characteristics, probably because they were taken from different legends. The scenes of GUDRIN are principally laid along the shores of the North Sea and Normandy. The men and women in this poem resemble generally those in the lead. The same elemental passions are depicted. The men are brave, vigorous heroes rejoicing in battle in feats of prowess. The women are beautiful, constant and courageous. There are many fine delineations of character in the original, as well as vigorous sketches of northern scenery. The figure of GUDRIN stands out in bold relief among the maidens. There are a few more beautiful characters indeed in the poems of the old heroic period, and it adds to the charm of the epic that she does not suffer the tragic fate of Krimhilt in the Nibelungen lead, but that her constancy and devotion are rewarded by her ultimate reunion with her knightly lover, King Hervik. There are many serious passages, but from the very first there is the conviction that GUDRIN and Hervik, in spite of all the dangers and vicissitudes through which they pass, will in the end be reunited. And so it happens. GUDRIN's name is always spoken by her people with reverence. Her courage and constancy were extolled by them, and in after days her fame was as radiant as the stars in the heavens. G. P. U. Chicago July 1, 1906 End of Chapter Zero Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 1 of GUDRIN by Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 1 The Maiden and the Princely Souter There once lived in Denmark a mighty king named Hetel, whose fame spread far and wide. His wife Hilda bore him two children, a son and a daughter, called Ortvin and Gudrun, who were endowed with such surpassing strength and beauty that as they grew to manhood and womanhood the whole country rang with their praises. Ortvin's master in arms was Count Vata, a hero who loved the strife and tumult of battle better than making merry with fair dames, and from him the young prince acquired skill in all nightly exercises. Gudrun grew up so tall and strong that she too could have wielded a sword with credit, had such feats been seemly for a maiden, and when the brother and sister stood side by side, all who beheld them declared no sculptor could have wrought anything half so beautiful. Princes came from far and near to seek Gudrun in marriage, but her haughty father, King Hetel, sent them all away, some departing in sorrow, others with bitterness and anger in their hearts. Among those attracted by the fame of Gudrun's beauty was Siegfried, king of Moorland, to whom seven princes did homage as their lord. With a splendid retinue he appeared at Hetel's court to sue for the hand of the maiden, only to share the fate of all her other suitors. Filled with rage and chagrin he took his departure, vowing never to rest till he had wrought vengeance on the proud monarch. In Normandy at this time there lived a prince named Hartmut, who no sooner heard of Gudrun than he too was seized with the desire to make her his wife. His mother, Queen Gelinda, gladly assented to his wishes, for she was an overbearing and ambitious woman, and longed to see her son distinguished above all the other princely wars. But his father, King Ludwig, said to him, How do we know if this Gudrun be as fair as report paints her? Yet was she the very flower of maidenhood it would profit the little, for but think thee how far our realm doth lie from Denmark? Never would her parents permit their only daughter to go so far from them? Hartmut was not to be moved from his purpose by these remonstrances, however, and Gelinda said, Let messengers be dispatched thither, and I will bestow gold upon them besides costly a barrel. But Ludwig, foreboding evil, continued, King Hettel and his wife Hilda are well known to me, haughty and overbearing are they both, and tis like their daughter will prove the same. Be that as it may, replied Hartmut, I cannot live if Gudrun be not mine. In truth, if I may not win her in peaceful fashion, then will I go with an army and rest her from them by force of arms? Gelinda too urged and entreated the king, till at last he yielded and consented to Hartmut's making the attempt. As to an army, he said, There is yet time enough for that. Let us first see what may be peacefully accomplished. Accordingly, Hartmut chose sixty knights from the noblest houses in the land to lay his suit before King Hettel. They set out forthwith, attired in rich garments, their spotless armor shining in the sun, while twelve superb Sumter horses followed, led by retainers and laden with gold and silver. Full a hundred days passed before they reached the borders of Hettel's kingdom, where they found a warlike people, most of them going about in helm and mail. They asked where the king was to be found, and were shown the way to the royal castle, Hegelingen. As they rode up to it, the people came flocking about them, full of eager curiosity to gaze at the splendid strangers, while the king ordered sumptuous lodgings to be prepared for them. On the twelfth day they were summoned before Hettel, who, seated on a shining throne and surrounded by his vassals, received them graciously and asked their errand. One of the knights stepped forward and delivered to him the letter containing King Ludwig's suit for his son Hartmut, but scarcely had he learned its contents when his brow darkened, and he cried angrily, Now, by my faith, doth Ludwig dare to dishonour my crown with such proposals? Let him seek a queen for his son where ere it pleases him, but approach not my throne with his presumptuous desires. At these words there was a stir among the Norman knights, and their swords seemed to rattle in their sheaths, but they restrained themselves, and one ventured to reply, Hartmut is well worthy to be thy son-in-law, O king, for truly there is no brave a knight alive. Thereupon Queen Hilda, who sat beside the king, lifted her head hotly and said, No stout not that thy prince was leechman to my father, King Hagen, whose fame hath surely reached thine ears, and shall the son of my father's vassal lead our child homeward as his bride. Therewith the knights were dismissed, and the next morning they left the court. Full of hope and impatience Hartmut looked forward to their return, but their appearance, when at last they rode into the courtyard, boated him little good. Reluctantly they made known the answer of Hettle and Hilda to his suit, where at Ludwig foamed with rage, and Gerlinda burst into a storm of angry tears, but Hartmut asked one of the knights whether the maiden was really so beautiful as it was said. In truth, my lord, he replied, So fair is she that he who once beholds her must ever bear her image in his heart. Now, may God chastise King Hettle for the affront he hath dealt to me and to my house, but for the maiden she shall yet be mine, I swear. These words gladden Gerlinda's heart. Ha! she cried trembling with passion. May I but live to behold her here. CHAPTER II THE CONTEST Zealand, the neighbouring country to Denmark, was ruled by a young prince named Hervik, who also came to woo the fair Gudrun, but Hettle rejected him as haughtily as he had rejected all the rest. Nevertheless, Hervik terried for some months at the court, where, from time to time, he might behold the maiden, but although he often renewed his suit, the king's answer was ever the same. One day a prince arrived at the royal castle, followed by a glittering train. He would not give his name, and as he advanced no suit, Hettle received him kindly and prepared a feast in his honour. So it came to pass that he soon found an opportunity of seeing Gudrun, and contrived to make known to her that he was Hartmut, and had come to Denmark for her sake alone. The maiden pitied the gallant young hero, whose appearance pleased her well, though she had no wish to wed him, and she besought him to depart at once, for should Hettle discover who he was, he would surely slay him. Sorrifully, Hartmut left the court, yet he did not abandon his purpose, but bent all his energies toward raising an army to revenge himself upon King Hettle. Hervik was rejoiced when the splendid stranger went upon his way, for he had feared in him a successful rival. Again he would have renewed his own suit, but the king sternly forbade him ever again to speak of it, whereupon he resolved to invade the land with an armed force to prove to the haughty monarch that he too was a mighty prince. Accordingly, on a dark night not long thereafter, when all within the castle of Hegelingen lay wrapped in deepest slumber, Hervik landed with a band of stout warriors, and at daybreak the water on the tower discovered the enemy close beneath the walls. "'Two alms!' he thundered from the tower, the trump the silence broke, and strident blast of larrum horns the startled sleepers woke, with flying hair the women all to one another clung, or flocking to the windows there, their hands in terror rung, while calm in danger night and man to steed and armor sprung. When Hetel saw by the device on the banners that it was Hervik who led the foe, he was secretly pleased that the hero should thus seek to win the maid by force of arms. This was after his own heart, and Hervik could not have hit upon a better plan to obtain his favour. With his wife and Gudrun he stood at a window and watched the gallant struggle that was in progress before the castle, expecting to see his knights soon scatter the followers of this fiery war, but great was his consternation when he beheld Hervik gaining step by step. Wherever the rejected suitors plume waved, wherever his flashing sword circled, there was the fray hottest, and many of Hetel's stoutest warriors fell before him. Splendid was Hervik to look upon in battle, the helms of all who approached him were lit with fiery sparks, while their armor was speedily adorned with crimson bands. Even Gudrun gazed on him with admiring eyes, terrible as the sight of the battle was to her. Now, thought Hetel, is Hervik worthy of my sword. And donning his armor down he strode, only to find his men being irresistibly forced back within the castle. Already the clash of arms re-echoed from the vaulted ceiling. Armor crashed against armor in the onset. Valiantly King Hetel dashed among his knights, but all his efforts were powerless to check their retreat. At last the two princes came face to face. The grey-haired hero of a hundred battles, and the young warrior bent on winning equal fame. Blows that would have slain many a stout champion fell thick and fast on Helm and Shield, yet undismayed and unconquered fast they stood, while spark shot forth in fiery showers, and links of mail fell tinkling to the stone floor. At last Hetel stepped back apace and said breathlessly, He who does not wish me for a friend surely is no good friend. And therewith rushed once more upon the young hero, and fiercer than ever raged the combat. Terror stricken. Gudrun watched them until at last she could bear it no longer. Seizing a shield she hastened down and threw herself between the two knights, where at Hervig lowered his sword and gazed joyously at the stately maiden. Peace, peace, my father, in God's name! she implored. Let the struggle wait until I have asked Hervig where his dearest friend may be. O thou knowest well, cried Hervig. But I will give no peace till thou dost grant me leave to speak with thee within the castle. No evil have I in my heart, for unarmed will I enter. Accordingly, at Gudrun's desire, the heroes laid aside their arms and entered the castle together in peace. Then Hervig approached Gudrun once more to plead his suit, and Gudrun answered, What maid could scorn so valiant a hero? Truly most noble Hervig, there is no damsel living who could hold thee more dear than I, and if my parents do consent, Then will I gladly evermore with thee abide? Then Hervig besought the king and queen for the hand of Gudrun, and they, turning to their daughter, asked whether this betrothal would be pleasing to her. She replied that she would choose Hervig for her husband before all other men. So Heddle, whose heart had been quite one by the valour of the noble young hero, led Gudrun to him, and joined their hands together. Then all the great lords and vassals were summoned to the hall, and in their presence the king once more asked Gudrun if she would have Hervig for her husband. Never could I wish for noble Lord, she answered. So they were betrothed, and a great feast was held to celebrate the joyful event. When the festivities were over, Hervig wished to take Gudrun home with him as his bride, but Queen Hilda besought him to wait till the following springtime, since her daughter was still so young. In the meantime she would teach her much that it befitted a future queen to know, and she would also have time to prepare a rich store of marriage gifts. Hervig agreed to this, though with great reluctance. Soon thereafter, bidding a sorrowful farewell to his betrothed, he returned to his own land, little suspecting what dire results were to follow the postponement of the nuptials. CHAPTER III SIGFREED'S REVENGE The news that Hervig had won the heart and hand of the beautiful Gudrun soon spread to Moreland, and filled King Sigfried, still smarting from his own scornful rejection, with deadly hatred against the fortunate suitor. Now will I kindle for thee, Sir Hervig, he shouted. A wedding torch that shall light thy whole land. Fourthwith he had twenty ships made ready and filled with chosen knights. Toward the end of May they reached the coast of Zeeland, and then began such a burning and slaying as never had been known before. Hervig at once rode forth to meet his fierce enemy, and a long and desperate battle followed. Red was the soil with the blood of the slain, and bravely did Hervig in his warrior's fight, but at last they were forced to yield to superior numbers and take refuge in a castle nearby, where they were safe for a time from the enemy. Sigfried laid siege to it, but one of Hervig's knights succeeded in stealing through the enemy's camp by night, and hastening to Hegelingen, told King Hettle of the ravages Sigfried had committed in Zeeland, and of Hervig's dangerous situation. When Gudrun heard these evil tidings, she besought her father to hasten to the aid of her betrothed. "'That will I gladly do, my daughter,' cried the King. "'Hevig shall see, twas not in vain, I swore faith with him, and straight away shall all our friends be summoned hither.' Messengers were sent out in haste, bidding his vassals join him, prepared for war without delay, and soon a host of gallant knights assembled with their followers all eager for battle. First came Old Vata, that dauntless champion who never yet had known fear, and of whose prowess great tales were told. Then followed Morung, Irolt, Horund, and the aged Fruta. Had these heroes been in the royal castle, when Hervig sought to storm it, there might well have been a different ending to the fight. The King's son Ortvin also donned his armour, and begged permission to accompany the expedition. He longed to prove his valor for the first time, and aid in avenging his sister's wrong. Hettle at once took ship with all his forces and soon reached Zeeland. When Siegfried heard of their coming, he set forth to meet them. Then there followed a fierce conflict, wherein many a good helm and shield were shattered, but neither side could claim a victory. With morning light the struggle was renewed, but again the evening of the bloody day brought no decisive result. So it went on for twelve long days, but when on the thirteenth morning Siegfried surveyed his dwindling forces, he knew he might no longer venture to wage open warfare. He retired with the remnant of his army to a strong castle, which was entirely surrounded by water. Here at first he thought himself quite safe from Hettle's swords and spears, but when he found the enemy closely besieging his retreat, he heartily wished himself back in his own land. After sending messengers to Hegelingen to relieve the suspense of the Queen and Gudrun, Hettle swore a solemn oath never to stir from that spot till Siegfried should surrender, a rash vow that brought much sorrow to him, as we shall see. King Ludwig had many spies in Zeeland, and word of Hettle's vow was soon brought to him. He asked if the castle held by Siegfried was a strong one, and learning that it could well sustain a year's siege, he hastened joyfully to his wife and heart much-saying, "'Lost the hour of our revenge is nigh!' Then he told them how Hettle, with all his bravest knights, had gone to Zeeland to aid Hervick, leaving his own land but poorly guarded. Girlinda was overjoyed when she found the King was bent upon avenging the affront that Heaven offered her, and brought gold from her own store to aid and arming the knights. Hartmut too was rejoiced, and said about placing himself in his followers in readiness with a will, though with him it was not so much a question of revenge as of winning the maiden he so dearly loved. At last all was ready, and Ludwig's army embarked and put out to sea. After a voyage of many days, the eager warriors one morning spied the gleaming turrets of Matalan, the castle occupied by Queen Hilda and her daughter, and landing under cover of a wood, succeeded in approaching close to the walls, without being seen by the warders. Ludwig wished to begin the assault at once, but Hartmut persuaded him to wait until he had made one more attempt to win Gudrun by peaceful means. For this purpose he dispatched two wealthy counts with a message to her, but when she learned their errand she replied, Say to your master I am betrothed to King Herwig, and never will I break faith with him. The counts warned her that Hartmut's love was so great he was ready to carry her away by force if she would not consent to go with him of her own will, where at Gudrun's knights laughed scornfully, so sure were they of the strength of the castle in their own good swords, and little suspecting that an army was concealed in the wood. The messengers were dismissed, and costly garments offered them, with wine and gold and silver drinking-horns, but they heartily refused the gifts. Ha! cried the Danes angrily. If ye do scorn King Hatel's wine, then shall blood be poured for you forsooth. The counts rode back to Hartmut and told him what had passed. Alas! he cried, that such words have been spoken. No longer is there left me any choice. The battle-standards were unfurled, and Hartmut advanced upon the castle with his fellows. Queen Hilda was overjoyed when she first beheld him, for she thought some good fortune had brought King Hatel back. Soon, however, the device upon the banners showed her it was Hartmut who approached, and she ordered the gates of the castle to be made fast. Her knights, thirsting for battle, rushed forth, but scarcely had they met the foe when Ludwig issued from the forest with a second force, and dashing among the unlucky Danes, mowed them down, as corn falls before the reapers. The two soon forced the castle gates and planted their victorious banners on the battlements of Matalan. Hartmut found Gudrun in the great hall, her cheeks pale with terror. Thou did scorn me once, he said to her, love and anger struggling within him. And for that should I scorn to make captive any here, but rather let all be slain. Gudrun turned away weeping and cried. Alas, my father, couldst thou but know what hath be fallen, thy poor child? Terrible ravages were committed in the castle by Ludwig's followers, which Hartmut was powerless to prevent, though he would not suffer it to be burned. Gudrun, with thirty of her women, was taking captive to the ships, and after pillaging and laying waste the country for three days, the Normans again embarked laden with spoils. The anchors were raised, and on the fourth morning the fleet set sail for home. End of Chapter 4 Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 5 Of Gudrun By Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 5 The Evil Tidings King Hettle, who had been joined by Hervik in his warriors, still besieged the castle within whose walls Siegfried defied all their assaults. One day, messengers from home arrived, and when Hettle saw them coming, he hastened joyfully to meet them crying, Tell me quickly, good sirs, how fares it with my wife and my dear daughter Gudrun? The messengers glances fell, as one of them said sorrowfully, Great is the evil that hath be fallen, my lord, but under thy cities and thy castles ruined. Full a thousand draped knights have fallen fighting for thy house. Thy treasures hath the enemy despoiled, and thy daughter Gudrun is taken captive. At these words the king laid hold of him fiercely, saying, Thou speakest in frenzy, man! Who could have done this? Speak! Speak, I say! Twas Ludwig of Normandy in his son Hartmut, my lord, replied the messenger, who suddenly appeared before Matalan with the mighty army. Then the king cried aloud and tore his long grey beard in anguish. Quickly the news spread through the camp, and the heroes Hervig and Vata, Irolt, Fruta and Horrent, hastened to his side. In bitter grief he cried, To you faithful comrades I pour out my woe, On my house hath dire evil been wrought by the foe. Alas, but ill-guarded, we left our own shore. Its gallant defenders shall guard it no more. My castles are ruined, my country laid waste, My liegemen lie slaughtered, my daughter disgraced. In bondage alas, must that noble maid sigh Whom I, to the Normanous bride, did deny. Tears streamed down Hervig's cheeks when he heard these dreadful tidings, and all were moved by the grief of the father and lover of Gudrun. Count Vata alone remained calm. Take heart, my lords, he said, for the day shall yet come when our sorrow will be turned to joy again. Cease these laments, I pray, let Siegfried hear the sound thereof, and take delight in your reflection. Hettle strove to regain his composure, and asked mournfully what was to be done. Vata replied, Now must we press Siegfried so closely on all sides that he will gladly seize an offer of alliance with us. This done we shall have his aid and be free to pursue the base marauders. This council cheered all the nights, and the next morning they began such a furious assault on the castle, as Siegfried never yet had been forced to endure. After many nights on both sides had fallen, Irelch shouted up to the walls, If thou wouldst have peace with us, then ask it of King Hettle, else shall no man of you go back alive to his own land. Siegfried answered. I may not in honour sue for peace to any man, and think as thou to conquer us. Tis but more heroes sent to death on either side. Then Frutte raised his voice and said, Swear thou wilt ever abide by us with loyal service, and thou mayst go hence in peace. And Siegfried, together with all his knights, raised their hands and swore it. Then the gates of the castle were thrown open, Siegfried and Hettle clasped hands, and the rest of the heroes did the same, so all were friends who by a short time before had been fighting to the death. Hettle now opened his heart to Siegfried, and told him of the calamity that had befallen them, and Siegfried said to Hervig, Even as I have hated thee, that thou didst win the love of Gudrun, whom I too would feign have wed, so now will I loyally aid thee to win her back from Hartmut. Had ye not burned my ships, then might we have pursued the Norman thieves without delay. There is a band of pilgrims near the shore, said Vata, with ten large ships and many smaller vessels. These they must lend us whether they will or know. This plan was hailed with joy. Taking with them a hundred knights, Vata forthwith brought the ships to land, while the pilgrims, whose treasures were safely stored on shore, were pacified with promises of a speedy return. The next morning Hettle, with all his companions and followers embarked, and a favouring wind soon bore them out to sea. End of Chapter 5 Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 6 of Gudrun by Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 6 The Battle on the Vulpinsand Ludwig and Hartmut meanwhile had reached a green and thickly wooded island called the Vulpinsand, where they decided to make a camp, and rest them from their labours for a space. Often did Gudrun gaze sadly out across the water, the tears streaming unheeded down her cheeks. Some days had passed thus, when about noon white sails were seen upon the far horizon. Word was brought at once to Ludwig and Hartmut, and they hastened to the shore. Soon they distinguished crosses on the sails, and supposed them to be pilgrim ships. But after a time, Ludwig said, John's ships do gleam and sparkle as they were filled with shining stars. It is from helm and shield and spear-tip. Up, warriors! up and on you to receive them! Instantly the camp was in confusion. All flew to arms, and soon the shore was lined with shouting warriors eager for battle. Ludwig's banner floated out upon the breeze, and he shouted, Now by my faith! Our former work was but child's play to what now lies before us. Stand fast, bold knights, and richly will I reward you! Nearer and nearer came the hostile fleet, bearing Hettle and Hervig and Siegfried with all their men, till at last the two armies were within reach of each other's spears. Then there arose such a clashing and splintering of javelins and arrows, that the noise of the waves was completely drowned. Hastily Hettle's men clambered into their boats and rode ashore. Vata sprang into the water up to his breast, and made his way to land. Hettle, Hervig, Ortvin and Fruta, and their brave men following, and soon the sea far out was red with blood from innumerable wounds. Ludwig recognized Vata, and hurled his spear at the mighty champion, but he caught it fairly on his shield, and it broke, the splinters flying far and wide. As he gained the shore, he dealt King Ludwig a blow with his sword, that sent him reeling backward, and therewith King Hettle's people won to land, and the fight began in earnest. Till nightfall the battle raged, when neither side had prevailed. Then the weary heroes sought a few hours repose, but at dawn the battle trumpets once more sounded, and the strife began anew. Backward and forward rolled the tide of battle, pausing now and then, only to burst out more fiercely than before. At last the two kings, Hettle and Ludwig, met. Hettle fought like a lion robbed of its young, and his sword whistled frightfully through the air, as the blows fell fast and furious on his adversary's helm and shield. But Ludwig too was a mighty champion, grown old in battle. At last he smote King Hettle so powerfully, that he fell dead before him. At this a wild shout went up from the Normans, and the news soon spread to Gudrun's tent, whereupon the poor maiden, with a cry of anguish, sank unconscious to the ground. Thotta fought like an infuriated wild beast, and many of the enemy fell before his sword, but in spite of all their efforts they could gain no real advantage, and darkness fell once more without Hervigs having succeeded in rescuing his bride. Watchfires were lit, and the two armies were so close to each other, that the gleam of their armor could be plainly seen. That evening Ludwig took counsel with Hartmut in his tent. He feared Vata's strength, and deemed it best to retire under cover of night, while the drums and war trumpets should sound loudly, as if in joyous anticipation of the morrow's conflict, and their confidence of victory, and thereby drown all sound of preparation. This plan was forthwith adopted, the ships were hurriedly laden and made ready to depart, and the fair captives led dither, after having been warned as they valued their lives to make no outcry. Ludwig's forces had become so diminished that he was forced to leave many of his ships behind, for lack of men to man them. His stratagem was successful, however. The Normans put safely out to sea in the darkness, and a strong breeze bore them swiftly away. In the morning a dense mist enveloped land and sea, but Vata turned to continue the battle, and at the sound of his horn the night sprang once more to arms. Just then the sun broke through the clouds and low, the whole country stretched bare before their bewildered gaze, the enemy had vanished. The ground was strewn with corpses, broken weapons, and torn banners, while near the shore some empty ships lay tossing on the waves. At this such a fury of rage seized Vata that few dared approach him. Ortvin cried, Let us pursue them with all speed. But Frutte, who had been watching the wind, replied, To a useless now, my lord, Full thirty miles have they start of us, Nor with our remnant of an army may we venture a pursuit. Then will we take vengeance on the living through the dead? shouted Grimm Eeralt. Unburied shall they lie, to feed the ravens. But Hervig reproved him, saying, Nacom read that must never be, Rather let us dig ample graves and bury friend and foe together. Dead foes no longer hatred claim, Grudge not the dead true heroes' fame. This was done, and after all the slain had been consigned to earth, with heavy hearts the heroes once more embarked, and set sail for home. Soon Queen Hilda's castle rose before them from the sea, where at groans of anguish burst from many a male clad breast. Ortvin cried, Alas! how can I appear before my mother? Not only have we failed to deliver Gudrun, but now my father lies beneath the stones of Fulpen-sand. Hervig too shrank from breaking the evil tidings to Queen Hilda, nor were any of their comrades willing to undertake the task. But when they had reached the shore, Vata gruffly said, It is useless to attempt to conceal the truth from the Queen, and himself rode to the castle, looking so grim and forbidding, that all who beheld him shrank in terror. But Hilda, who had seen him coming, and had also marked the sadly diminished fleet upon the strand, hastened anxiously to meet him, and asked him in trembling accents for her lord. I will not deceive thee, lady, said the hero, his rough features clouded with grief. The King is slain, and with him the greater part of our comrades, and therewith he told her the battle on the island. Quickly the news spread, and from the castle arose loud wailing and sounds of woe, to which all the heroes added their lamentations. The whole court was plunged into grief, and Vata alone retained his firmness. Peace, peace, my friends! No plaints nor sighs will ever open the King's grave, or bring back Gudrun to us. With the handful of warriors that have left us, we can do nothing now, tis true. But ere long a younger generation will be of age to bear arms, and then our day of reckoning will come. Chapter 7 Gudrun's Danger As Ludwig's fleet drew near the coast of Normandy, the gleaming turrets of his royal castle shone out across the green water. Far into the distance stretched fruitful fields in whated heights, bathed in bright sunlight. Then the King led his captive to the ship's deck, her trembling companions following, and said kindly to her, Maiden, behold the land of which thou art one day to be queen. Hartmut fixed his ardent gaze upon the fair prisoner, hoping she would at last look with favour on him. But Gudrun answered firmly, rather would I choose death than wed with Hartmut. Tis he who brought all this sorrow upon me through his invasion of our kingdom, and but for him my noble father who now on Yonder Island sleeps in his grave had been yet alive. This enraged the King, but controlling himself, he told her she must reconcile herself to what had happened, since it could not now be altered, and she must choose, between royal honours, and a shameful captivity. Undauntedly, the Maiden replied, I have sworn faith with havoc, and death alone shall free me from my truth. Scarcely had she uttered the words when the fierce Norman King seized her by the hair and flung her into the sea. Hartmut sprang forward to save his beloved, but in vain. For a moment her fair hair floated on the water. Then he plunged after her, and both disappeared below the surface. Anxiously those on the ship gazed downward, fearing that the King's son too would find a watery grave. Soon he rose again, however, supporting the Maiden on his strong arm, and the ship's poke, who had already sprung into a boat, drew both to safety. Hartmut gave Gudrun into the hands of her women, ordering them to take her below, and provide her with dry garments without delay. Then, confronting his father with glowing cheeks, he demanded sternly, Wherefore wouldst thou have drowned her who is more dear to me than life itself? By my faith had another dad what thou hast done, I would have paid him with my sword. Angrily the King answered, Boy, speak not thus to me. I am grown old in honours, and honour will I have from thee till I am dead. Therefore warn Gudrun that she heed her words in the future when she hath speech with me. End of Chapter 7. Recording by Stephen Fellows. Chapter 8. Of Gudrun. By Ferdinand Schmidt. Translated by George Putnam Upton. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 8. The Reception. Soon the fleet reached the shore, and Hartmut sent messengers to his mother to bid her prepare to receive Gudrun, as became her rank. Gerlinda was overjoyed when she learned that the daughter of that haughty monarch, who had once offered her such an affront, was with the Normans on the ships, and ordered the costly as a peril to be made ready, though rather it must be said, to display her own riches, than to fulfil the wishes of her son. Now Hartmut had a sister named Ortrun, who rejoiced in the thought that Gudrun would be a beloved sister to her, and joyfully assisted in all the preparations for the festivities. Three days were thus occupied, and on the fourth morning a splendid procession wended its way down from the royal castle to the shore. Gerlinda and Ortrun came first, mounted on white palfreys, and arrayed in magnificent robes of silk interwoven with gold, while behind them wrote a glittering train of knights, all sumptuously attired. Joyous strains of music penetrated to the ships, but they fell on Gudrun's ear like the harsh cry of the screech owl. Soon she with her maidens was conducted to the land. The broken-hearted royal maid, with tottering steps was seen. Shrinking from Hartmut's proffered aid, approached the haughty queen. Ortrun, impatient, longed to make, her loving welcome known. For to her seemed this stranger maid, like sister all her own. But as she joyously draws nigh, with sinking heart she sees, in Gudrun's eyes the bitter tears, then all her rapture flees. They closely clasp each other's hand, a kiss, and then they part. No words they speak, but in their eyes each reads the other's heart. Then Queen Gerlinda turned to her, with falsely flattering look, and would have sought a greeting kiss. This Gudrun would not brook. Approach me not, she proudly said. Thou cause of all my woe? For me to suffer thy embrace were worse than crime, I throw. Gerlinda seemed not to hear these words, but her heart swelled within her with rage. Tents were now pitched on the green sunny meadow, and Hartmut spared no pains to please and cheer Gudrun with music and tilting, but her tears flowed unceasingly, nor could all his efforts avail to comfort her. She sat with her head on Ortrun's shoulder, and Ortrun wept with her. Moved by her sorrow, Hartmut put an end to the games and gave the signal for departure. At the castle Gudrun found sumptuous apartments prepared for her and her maidens, but she felt as if she were entering a tomb. In truth, it would have been a welcome thought to her. Could she have felt that never again should she awake? End of Chapter 8. Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 9 of Gudrun by Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 9. Gudrun's Test Many months passed during which Hartmut omitted no proof of devotion to his fair captive, but never did the king's daughter cease to think of him, whose ring of gold she wore upon her finger. One day Gerlinda said to Gudrun, in the presence of her son, When will thou relent, perverse one? Delay no longer, but give thy hand to Hartmut, for of the truth he is the peer of any king alive. For answer Gudrun turned toward her and asked, What's thou, Lady Gelinda, take for thy husband one who had caused the death of so many of thine own people? Gerlinda, knowing how her son's heart was set on Gudrun, replied, Nay, dwell not on what is past thou foolish maid, wet him who loves thee well and gladly will I yield to thee my crown. Gudrun's eyes filled with tears, and her cheeks grew red as she answered. Can there be love with treacherous deeds? Of bloody crimes have sown the seeds? The bitter tears mine eyes so drown, they dim the glitter of a crown, for freedom thirsts my soul for I. Of freedom dream I night and day. Not but a captive I'll remain, nor wet him who my sire hath slain. She left the hall weeping. Hartmut sprang up angrily, saying, Enough of this. Since she ever doth scorn me I will no longer show her favour. This filled Gerlinda with secret joy. For now at least she thought the haughty princess would be in her power, and following Hartmut she said to him, My son, it is beyond thy skill to deal with Gudrun. So stubborn a child can be brought to better ways only by those of more experience. Leave her to me, and thou should soon find her pride humbled. Heaven grant it, cried Hartmut. Easily might I force her to be mine, yet my heart rebelled as against such harshness. Trust me, all shall be as thou dost wish, replied Gerlinda eagerly. Fail not to deal with her as becomes her rank, he continued, and forget not that the poor maid hath had much cause for grief. The next morning Hartmut took leave of his parents and left the court, but ere he departed he sought his mother once more, and charged her to treat Gudrun kindly. Then he rode forth with his followers to drown remembrance of his love and sorrow in the dangers of battle, bearing with him the hope that Gudrun's heart would turn to him at last. Had he but known the evil thoughts in Gerlinda's mind, he would never have departed. Scarcely was he out of sight, however, when the queen gave full vent to her malice. Seeking Gudrun, she said to her, since thou dost scorn the love and favour of a king, for sooth thou shalt do menial service and taste beggars fair. Alas! replied Gudrun, I am at thy mercy and must bear what ere thou dost inflict on me, but know this, queen, that not shall avail to shake my loyalty. Then, continued Gerlinda, shall thy maidens also serve his drudges for the sake of thy loyalty, heat the ovens, carry wood, and sweep up dust and litter. Oh, I will soon bend thy stubborn pride, I promise thee. Gudrun was greatly distressed that her maidens, who were all of noble birth, should be made to suffer for her sake, but she was powerless to prevent it. What the queen had threatened soon came to pass. Gudrun was separated from her companions, and forced to perform the lowest tasks. But when Gerlinda one day asked her mockingly how her life at court now pleased her, she replied simply, The good God who gave me constancy, granted me also the strength to bear the undeserved trouble it hath brought upon me. Thus three years went by, and Hartmut returned at last from his wanderings, rich in fame and honours. Full of hope he rode joyfully into the castle, but what was his horror to behold the high-born princess in the garb of a menial? Alas, my mother, what hast thou done? he cried, and giving his hand to Gudrun, he said sorrowfully. Believe me, most noble maiden, it is through no fault of mine that this shame hath be fallen thee. Yet wilt thou but look upon my suit with favour, then all thy sorrow shall be turned to joy. But Gudrun answered, Already have I made it plain to thee that my heart is his to whom my vows applied it. Go, leave me to the misery thine honour should have spared me. Then Hartmut reminded her of his rescue of her, from the water at peril of his life, as proof of his devotion. And wilt thou leave such love still unrewarded? he asked. Was it not thou? replied Gudrun. That tore me from my home in all I loved? Didst thou not slay my father? And yet for all these wrongs thou dost expect my thanks? Have it as thou wilt, then! he cried angrily, and abide in thy misery, to his no act of mind that brought it upon thee, yet it well nigh seems thou dost deserve thy shame. But it was not long till his love for Gudrun again awoke, and he determined to make one more effort to win her heart. End of Chapter 9 CHAPTER 10 ORTRIN Hartmut now went to his sister and said, I pray thee, comfort Gudrun and be his sister to her, so many bitter griefs hath she been forced to bear. Seek two to turn her heart toward me by kindness. Canst thou but do this, my sister, then will I owe thee thanks, so long as I do live. Ortrin wept for joy at these words, and embracing her brother fondly, replied, Happy indeed shall I be once more to see thy love. Our mother forbade me to approach her, and great grief was this to me. Then said Hartmut, Henceforth thou shalt share all thy joys with her, dear Ortrin, but chance if we make her happy here with us, her heart may yet be mine. Joyfully Ortrin hastened to Gudrun and besought her love and friendship, telling her the good news that hereafter by Hartmut's desire they were to share the same chamber, and the two royal maidens acknowledged they had missed and longed for one another. Happier days dawned for Gudrun. She spent all her time with Ortrin, whose only thought was to cheer her sorrowful companion. When Gudrun talked of her home in people, she listened with loving interest or shared her tears. She would gladly have welcomed the Danish princess as her sister-in-law, and lost no opportunity to speak good of Hartmut, whom she dearly loved, but as time went on she saw more and more clearly that her friend's constancy was unalterable, and it troubled her greatly, for she foresaw more evil days for Gudrun. So the winter passed, and the summer, and another winter drew nigh. Then Gerlinda persuaded her son to ask Gudrun for the last time to share his throne. So he went to her, and besought her once more to be his queen. Again she refused, where at Hartmut asked her if he was not as worthy of her love as Hervig, but she only said, Hervig hath my promise, and I will not break it. Hartmut assured her that Hervig must have already broken faith with her, since for all these years he had allowed his sword to rust in its sheath, and had made no effort to rescue her. In truth I know not why this should be, she answered. Yet even if he hath forgotten me, still will I be true to him till death. So Hartmut went back to Gerlinda, and said, Not will alter the maiden's resolution, I can do no more, wherefore take her and deal with her as thou wilt. Then he warned his knights to be on their guard. For if the friends and kindred of Gudrun be as steadfast as she hath proved herself, he said, It yet may chance an army shall invade our land. End of Chapter 10 Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 11 Of Gudrun By Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11 Gudrun's Trials From that day fresh hardships fell to the lot of the king's daughter, yet when the enraged queen ordered her to return once more to her drudgery, saying it was only pride that caused her to refuse Hartmut's hand, Gudrun answered quietly, God knows my heart, and if it be his will that I should suffer thus, it is not for me to rebel, but to do all thou dost require of me, so that it touch not the fate that I have sworn with Hervig. To this the queen replied, Then shall it be thy daily task to wash garments, and take heed that thou art not found idle a single hour from early morn till nightfall. And this the maiden was forced to do, though she knew nothing of such work, nor did Gerlinda fail to greet her with taunts and jeers whenever she saw her. But Hartmut went about silently, with never a friendly word to any man, for his heart was sore within him. So diligently did Gudrun apply herself to her task, however, that soon it would have been hard to find a more skillful washerwoman than the Highborn Maiden, but her companion's hearts were well nigh broken when they saw the heavy labor their beloved mistress was compelled to perform. One of them, indeed, named Herigart, proved disloyal to her, and wedded a Norman duke, the king's cup-bearer, whereby she found favor at court, and all went well with her, but the rest of the damsels, like Gudrun, remained true to their own land and to one another, through all their trials and sufferings. One of them, the Princess Hildberg, was so grieved at Gudrun's hard lot, and wept and lamented so bitterly over it, that Gerlinda at last observed it, and maliciously said to her, Since thou takest Gudrun's fate so much to hot, go thou and take her place when she is weary. Gladly would I bear all her burdens if such might be, replied Hildberg. In God's name, madam, put not the maiden to such shame. Remember that her father wore a crown. Yet I, who am also a Prince's child, would rejoice if I might only share her lot. Now, by my faith, that shalt thou surely do in payment for thy bold words, thou malapet, cried Gerlinda furiously. Through the snow shalt thou go with Gudrun daily to the shore, and I will see to it thou hast work enough to weary thee, I warrant. Gerlinda little knew that instead of inflicting a heavy punishment upon the loyal maiden, she had made her happier than she had been for many a day. Scarcely could she wait for evening to come, and when at last she spied Gudrun, wearily returning from her day's labour. She ran to meet her, and they wept in one another's arms. Then, Hildberg said, I have persuaded that monster to let me go with thee to the shore and share thy toil. May God reward thy loyalty, dear Hildberg, cried Gudrun, embracing her once more. If I but have thee to talk with while I'm at my work, the hours will seem short indeed. So the next morning and thereafter they went together with their baskets to the shore, and though the work was hard and painful, their love for each other sustained them, and enabled them to endure their sufferings patiently. END OF CHAPTER XI This Slibervox recording is in the public domain. CHAPTER XII. On the Vulpan Sand All this time Gudrun's mother, Queen Hilda, as well as her lover, brother, and all her friends, supposed that Hartmut had forced her to become his wife, but nonetheless were they firmly resolved to avenge the outrage and bring her home again. With this in view, the Queen had seven large strong vessels built, and two and twenty smaller ships. A vast store of armour and weapons was also made ready. And at last one day she summoned old Eeralt to the castle, and told him it was her wish to erect a cloister on the Vulpan Sand, in honour of her dead husband. And after this was done, her loyal subject should undertake the voyage to Normandy. The day of retribution is in truth at hand, O Queen, replied Eeralt, for a brave and stalwart generation hath grown to manhood. We thanks to O'El to summon forth with thy friends from far and near. The Queen was rejoiced and hastened to send messengers first of all to Hervick of Sealand, who welcomed them gladly, for he surmised their errand. Most noble Hervick, said they, that time has come to avenge Queen Hilda's wrong, and in this she counts upon thy aid. Nor have I forgotten Gudrun, who has pledged to me in solemn truth, and whom heart met in defiance of all right and custom hath held captive all these years. Say to thy Queen I will join her speedily with my knights, and that never yet was war so welcome to my heart. Then the messengers bore the news to the Queen's other friends and allies, to Horrent, Morung, Fruta and Vata, and all promised to be ready. When Hilda heard this, she sent for her son Ortvin, who long had yearned for this day to come. He was in the forest hawking when the messengers arrived, and rode eagerly to meet them. They soon made known to him what had passed, whereupon he snatched the hood from the falcon's head and let it go free, for now thought he, to the question of that high a game for which I have longed so often. Joyfully he hurried to his mother, and sent out word to his followers to assemble with all haste. Swift messengers the tidings bore, with speed throughout the land. Ended were now the sounds of woe, each warrior grasped his brand. The battle-steeds were panopled, the flags their folds out flung, while all along the western shore, forests of masts upsprung. At last all the preparations were complete, and the heroes sought Queen Hilda, and prayed her for leave to depart on their journey. Invoking God's blessing upon them, she bade them farewell, and after a last tearful embrace of her son, turned to them, saying, Watch over him faithfully, my loyal friends, brave and valiant I well know him to be, yet he is but young and inexperienced in warfare, keep ever at his side therefore, should he press forward too boldly in the tumult of battle. The heroes boarded the ships, already laden with their arms and stores, while a great throng of people gathered on the shore to watch their departure. The anchors were weighed, the white sails shaken out, and, aided by a favouring gale, the fleet put out to sea. Women waved farewell to their departing husbands. From the ships arose the sound of trumpet and drum, while the heroes lustily chanted a war song, as out they sailed farther and farther into the shining sea. Vata took the lead and steered the fleet for the Vulpan Sand. After a voyage of several days the Green Island appeared before them, but before they could reach it a great storm arose. Mountainous waves came rushing down upon them, the ribs of the ships creaked and groaned, and the tall mass bent under the fury of the gale. Dark as night it grew, while red lightning flashes darted from the inky clouds, and seemed to strike the water. Hock, cried Horrent, does hear that sound of wailing, me thinks King Hettle finds no rest in his unconsecrated grave. These words fired Ortvin with desire to carry peace to his father's soul, and tearing across from the mast he leaped with it into the boiling flood which closed angrily over him. His comrades gave him up for lost, but soon, by the glare of the lightning, they saw him rise to the surface, and parting the waves with strong arms he succeeded by God's mercy in gaining the shore of the Vulpan Sand. There he planted the cross upon the mound that marked the warrior's place of burial, and knelt in prayer beside it. As the vivid flashes revealed the noble form of the beautiful youth to those upon the ship, he seemed like a heavenly vision bathed in the fiery glow. The sight restored the sinking courage of many a night, and with new strength they bent to the work of battling with the waves. Soon the thunder lessened, the wind died away, and as the golden sunlight broke again from out the clouds, their vessels reached the shore in safety. For many days the heroes remained on the island, praying for the souls of the departed, for few were there in all the host who had not some kin or friend to mourn among the slain. The thought of these served to steal their courage, and as Siegfried, who had been reminded of his oath, had by this time joined them with a large number of ships and men the whole fleet put out again to sea. End of Chapter 12 Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 13 Of Gudrun By Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 13 The Tale of Hagen and the Griffin The way was far to Normandy, and time often hung heavily on the hands of the heroes who were longing for action. Sometimes, when the wind failed, a number of them would assemble on the deck, while gray-bearded warriors related many an adventure of their own or their forefathers. Thus it chanced one day that several of the younger knights gathered about Fruta, and besought him to tell them the tale of Hagen and the Griffin. Fruta agreed, and seating himself upon a pile of armor, leaned back against the mast, while his hearers formed a circle about him on the deck. The sun was setting, and its ruddy gleams were reflected from the mirror-like surface of the water upon the face of the aged hero, as he began. Once upon a time there ruled in Ireland a king called Sigiband, whose wife bore him a son. He was named Hagen, and while yet a child all who saw him marveled at his strength. By the time he had reached his seventh year he refused to remain any longer in the women's care, but desired only to be with men and learn to wield arms. Sigiband encouraged his son's wishes, and the boy soon became so skilled in the use of spear and sword that even the oldest warriors were amazed, and declared that never before had such a child been seen. Now a chance that the queen one day was sitting upon the battlements of the castle, gazing sorrowfully out before her, when the king appeared and asked the cause of her sadness. Dear Lord, she replied, Rich indeed are we in lands and subjects, as also in fame and honour, Get one thing do we lack that oft doth grieve me much. At my dear father's court many nights of great renown came and went, and there were daily feastings and turnies, the fame of which spread throughout all lands. But here, alas, we heap up vast stores of gold and jewels in our treasure chests, and forswear those pleasures which might well serve in time of need to provide us with blood and treasure. Thou speakest truth, my wife, said the king, and henceforth I'll do even as other princes. Tomorrow messenger shall summon hither all our friends from far and near, and we'll prepare a great feast for them. At this Queen Uta was rejoiced, and cried joyfully. Then I will search my chests, and bring forth rich garments with gold and jewels also, that we may fittingly reward the victors in the games. Spring came, and with at the time fixed for the festivities. The fields were gay with blossoms, and wooden grove were filled with the songs of birds. On every road were seen fluttering pennons as bands of knights in shining armor approached from all directions. The huge castle with its sixty towers was soon filled to overflowing, and sumptuous tents were erected without the walls, while the king and queen took good care that their guests were well provided for in every way. Sounds of mirth and rejoicing filled the air, and many alance was splintered in the lists. Thus nine days went joyously by, but on the tenth a terrible calamity befell the royal host. In the hall a wandering minstrel had just struck his harp, and begun his heroic lay. King Sigavan and his queen were seated on the throne, with knights and ladies grouped about them in a circle. The little prince was in the garden with his attendants, who, attracted by the minstrel's song, had gathered about the door, forgetting the child, and he ran gaily hither and thither, rejoicing in his freedom. Suddenly there was a great crashing among the branches of the trees, and a griffon swooped down, seized the boy in its claws, and bore him off with mighty strokes of its huge wings. His screams penetrated to the hall, and all rushed forth in alarm, but rescue was then impossible, for already the griffon had mounted to the clouds, and soon vanished in the distance with its prey. There was an end of all the festivities, and not but lamentations and cries of woe were heard throughout the castle, where but now had echoed the sound of joyous laughter. The royal parents were well nigh broken-hearted. The boy still lived, however, and gazed terror-stricken into the depths beneath him. Faster than the storm wind flew the griffon, and soon the sea was beneath them. Full a hundred miles from home had he been born, when looking down, Hagen perceived a dark chain of rugged mountains rising from an island. Here the griffon alighted on a rocky peak, flung the boy into its nest, and flew away again. The young griffons stretched their necks eagerly for the prey, the flapping of their wings sounding like the breakers on the shore, but each tried to seize the prize for himself and began to fight, clawing fiercely at one another with harsh cries. One of the monsters, profiting by this opportunity, seized the boy and flew with him to the top of a tree, but as it alighted the branch broke beneath the creature's weight, and Hagen, slipping from its clutches, dropped safe to the ground and hastily concealed himself in a cleft of rock thickly overgrown with bushes. When the young hero had recovered somewhat from his fright, he looked about him, and seeing no sign of the griffon, was creeping cautiously along through the bushes, when suddenly there stood before him three beautiful damsels. They too had been stolen in their childhood by the griffon, but how they had contrived to escape the monster is no part of my tale. When they saw the noble boy in his rich garments coming toward them, they were terrified, and quickly disappeared in a rocky cave nearby, thinking that a dwarf who dwelt in the heart of the mountains had come forth into the light of day, but no sooner did Hagen spy the maidens than he sprang eagerly after them. Whence comeest thou, they cried, get thee hence and do us no evil, for enough have we to bear already. Nay, dear maiden, send me not away, I pray, replied Hagen, but give me something to eat, from well-knife amished. A fierce griffon brought me hither. Only help me, and I will tell you whence I came. When they saw that it was really a human child before them, they were overjoyed and caressed the boy fondly, after which they brought him food and drink, and made him welcome to their cave. There he abode with them many days and years, and grew strong and brave under their loving care. One day a band of pilgrims chanced to approach the island in their ships, and Hagen and the maidens gazed joyfully at them, for they thought the hour of their deliverance had come, but suddenly a great storm arose, lightning flashed from the inky clouds, and loud rolled the thunder. The ships were tossed hither and thither among the raging billows. One after another was dashed to pieces on the rocks, in spite of all the efforts of the unfortunate pilgrims, and when the storm subsided no soul was left alive of all the band. The next morning the shore was strewn with corpses, and the griffon bore many of them to its nests to feed its young. Hagen spied the body of a knight among them, who had been dashed against a rock by the force of the waves. Watching his chance, the youth hurriedly seized the knight's mail and helm, and soared in bow and quiver. Scarcely had he completed his task when he heard a whiffling among the rocks, and saw the griffon approaching, but now he was well armed and had no thought of fear. With a steady hand he launched an arrow at the creature, but it rebounded from the thick hide and fell harmless to the ground. Therewith the furious monster rushed upon him, but already the sword flashed above Hagen's head, and springing aside he shore off one of the huge wings. Then it struck fiercely at him with its claw, but this too he severed at a blow, and soon his foe lay dead before him. A cry of joy issued from the cave, but scarcely was it uttered when a fresh terror seized the maidens, for now a whole swarm of griffons came swooping down from the rocks. But Hagen's courage had grown with victory, and the sword gleamed like lightning in his hands. Fierce indeed was the struggle, and many a hero would have succumbed, but the youth held his ground bravely, and succeeded at last in slaying all the monsters. Then he cried, Come forth, dear maidens, now for the first time you may enjoy the sun and air in freedom without fear. Joyously they ran to greet the gallant youth, nor could they sufficiently thank him for slaying the terrible griffons. A new life began for Hagen. From that hour he had no thought save for the use of his newfound weapons, nor was it long till he could bring down birds upon the wing with his arrows. Even fishes in the water could not escape his skill. He would spend whole days roaming about through the forest, learn to run swiftly as the flying stag, and to the amazement and terror of the maidens would leap streams and chasms with the strength and agility of the panther. Once a fierce dragon sprang at him from a dark cleft of rock, but Hagen clove its skull with his sharp sword, and it fell, writhing horribly in the death agony. When it was dead he tasted the blood of the creature, and immediately felt new strength come to him, whereupon he drank of it till he had gained the strength of twelve men. The skin he bore with him to the cave as a trophy of his victory. Not long after this he met a lion in the forest, but at the sound of his mighty hunting-call the beast turned and fled. Hagen pursued and captured it alive, and after binding up its jaws and claws with ropes of fiber bore his prize to the maidens on his shoulders. Before this they had been unable to make fires and were forced to eat raw meat, but now Hagen could strike sparks from the rocks, and this proved of great help to the maidens. The food they were now able to prepare was more wholesome and palatable, and day by day their beauty grew to greater fullness. One day Hagen said, Let us follow the shore of the island. Per chance elsewhere we may discover a ship that will take us to our homes. They sat out upon their quest without delay. The maidens clad in garments they had skillfully wrought from fiber, and after twenty-five days of wandering they described a vessel. Hagen's voice was louder than the roaring of the waves, and his shouts were soon heard by those on the ship, but when they beheld the strangely clad damsels they took them for water-nixies and dared not row a boat to land. Then Hagen called on them for help in God's name, where upon the count who commanded the vessel entered a boat with twelve knights and came ashore. He was struck with the wondrous beauty of the maidens, but they were ashamed of their rude attire and hastily concealed themselves. Some of the knights rode back to the ship and fetched some women's apparel, which the girls hastily donned in the shelter of a thicket, after which the count took them with Hagen on his vessel. The ship's folk greeted the maidens kindly when they found they were not tricksy sprites but fair mortals, and after they had refreshed themselves with food and drink the count asked what evil fate had brought them to the island. They were loath to make their misfortunes known to a stranger, yet could not well refuse the request. Accordingly the eldest replied, My father wore the crown of farthest India when the griffin snatched me from him. Alas, I shall never more behold my home. I too am from a distant land, said the second maiden. My noble father, plunged in deeper sorrow by my loss I fear, was king of Portugal, and many princes did homage to him. Lastly the youngest spoke, My home is in Iceland once the griffin bore me hither. So dear am I unto my father, that well I know he gladly would bestow his crown on him, who may restore me to him. It was by God's will that you were carried to the island, said the count, and surely he hath wrought your deliverance. Trust yourselves, therefore, to his care. Then he turned to Hagen, saying, Thy companions have made known to me their rank in history. Now would I gladly learn thine own bold youth, and how thou cameest to the island. My fate was even as theirs, Sir Knight, replied Hagen. Like them I was barred hither by the griffin. As from a father he is king of Ireland, Sigaband by name. Then the count asked whether the monster yet lived. Hagen's eyes flashed, and he grasped his sword firmly as he entered. Nay, I slew the creature, and therewith hola tyong. All eyes were fixed in amazement upon the young hero as he spoke these words, and some of the knights praised him, saying, Truly thy deed is worthy, all men's praise, indeed to a doubtful whether any of us would have succeeded in slay in the griffin. But Hagen observed how they talked with one another apart, and endeavored secretly to remove his weapons. This roused his anger, and he warned them against any misdeed, whereupon the count whispered to his followers, We must accomplish our ends by force. Then approaching Hagen, he said harshly, Of a truth thou hast fallen into my hands in good time. Much injury have I suffered from thy father's warriors, wherefore I will hold thee captive till such time as he shall have made me full of men's. Whatsoever evil may have befallen thee at the hands of Ireland's heroes, that surely is no fault of mine, replied Hagen. Yet do thou but fetch me to my home, and all shall be well, I promise thee. Better security it is for me to hold thee prisoner, said the count. As for the maidens, I will bestow them upon my courteous. At these words Hagen flew into a passion. Now by my faith, he shouted, I'll not be the captive, nor shall I touch one hair upon the maidens' heads. Then, turning to the ship's people, he cried, Richly will I reward you, good mariners, if you will harken to my bidden, and bear me to my home. Heed well my words, for if you defile me, good cause shall you have to rue it. But the count sternly ordered them to seize Hagen, whereupon the youth snatched his sword from its sheath, and a furious fight began upon the ship. Heads rolled from the deck into the sea, and Hagen thrust the bodies after them with his foot. None could stand against him, and at last all those who were not slain fled to the farthest corner of the ship's hold. Then he rushed upon the count, who would surely have been slain had not the maidens besought Hagen to have mercy. At their prayers the hero sheathed his sword and ordered the ship to be steered according to his will. None dared now to oppose him, and thus the homeward voyage to Ireland was begun. Nor did the ship's folk need word or deed from this time forth to urge them to industry, for they already feared his very glance. On the seventeenth day they came in sight of the castle where Hagen's parents dwelt, and the mariners were in great fear lest Sigaban should slay them. But when Hagen saw this he reassured them, saying, Fear not! My father will forgive all when he learns to his ye that did save me from the island. Some of you shall bear a message to my parents to tell them I still deliver, and surely no evil will befall those who bring such tidens. Choosing twelve men, therefore, he said to them, Go ye to the cart and ask the king if he would behold his son. He'll not credit your words per chance. Seek then my mother, and ask her if she doth bear in mind the golden cross her son was used to wear upon his breast. She'll surely folly it to the ship. The men did as they were bitten, but when they entered the royal hall, the king at once recognized them by their garments as his foes, and angrily demanded how they had dared come thither. Whereupon one of them replied, My lord, thy son Hagen hath sent us. Soon shall thou behold him freeze close at hand. Thy words are false, cried Sigaban. For who that knoweth how my dear son was torn for me, may believe he still doth live? To his many years now I have warned his death. Then turning to the queen, the messengers asked her whether she would still know the cross she had given to her son. Where at a great flood of joy swept over her, and she cried eagerly, let us hasten to the shore that I may see the cross. The king ordered horses to be brought at once, and rode forth with the queen from the gates of the castle, followed by a stately train. Hagen, meanwhile, had come on shore with the knights and the maidens, and when he beheld his beloved parents once again, his heart swelled with joy while tears overflowed his eyes. Crowds of people had gathered to gaze upon him, for he had grown to be a mighty hero. The king made him welcome, saying, If thou art he whom thou declares thyself to be, then shall my decline in years be made glad indeed. As his mother approached, the youth drew the golden cross from his breast, and held it out to her, whereupon with a cry of joy she clasped him to her heart and wept aloud for happiness, while his father, too, embraced him with streaming eyes. Hagen now interceded for the count, and Sigaband, who could refuse nothing to his newfound son, clasped hands with his enemy in token of peace, and promised to make amends for any wrongs the count might have received at his hands. Joyously they all took their way back to the castle. The queen welcomed the maidens as if they had been her own daughters, and clothed them in the costliest apparel. Hagen soon after chose the maiden from India, Hilda by name, as his wife. On the death of his parents he mounted the throne, and became one of the mightiest princes that ever reigned. His wife presented him with a daughter, also called Hilda, who afterwards became queen of our land, and whose wrongs we are now going forth to avenge, got grant her child Gudrun be yet alive. Night had fallen as the old night closed his tail. The full moon rode high in the heavens, and the pale stars looked down kindly upon the band of warriors. End of Chapter 13. Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 14 Of Gudrun by Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 14 The Welcome Message One day Gudrun stood with Hildberg on the shore, watching the sun sink like a fiery ball into the shining sea, when suddenly something rose above the crimson surface of the water that looked like a white swan. But when it came nearer Gudrun saw that it was a beautiful mermaid, and it's both the damsels gazed in wonder at this apparition. It spoke to them and said, If ye seek for comfort, then ask of me what ye would know. So Gudrun asked first of all if her mother yet lived, and if all was well with her. The mermaid answered, Gladly will I tell thee what will rejoice thy heart to hear. Queen Hilda lives, and ever hopes to see thy safe return. To that end hath she made ready such a mighty fleet, his seldom hath sailed the waves. Again Gudrun asked, How fares it when my brother Ortvin, and tell me, O gentle spirit, is havoc my betrothed alive? In silvery tones the mermaid replied, Well are they both, and now upon the sea. Soon shall thou have proof that thou are not forgotten. Then Gudrun's face shone, and tears of joy glistened in her eyes. Truly, she said, These are joyous tidings thou dost bring me. Ye tell me further if thou canst. The earlt and morung come hither also. Soon shall many a Norman helm be shattered by their swords. Answered the maiden, and so saying, She disappeared beneath the crimson flood. Then the maidens lamented that they could question her no further. And Gudrun said, Come forth to us once more, sweet messenger. Where at the water parted, and again the mermaid arose. Ask what thou wouldst know, she said. And Gudrun continued eagerly. Heartwood and Ludwig are well armed, and have many a valiant knight to aid them. Wherefore I would know if Horrent too is with my kin. To it grieve me much did we lack his sword in battle. He is among the heroes on the fleet, the mermaid answered. When they shall engage in battle to deliver thee, and avenge the death of the king and his followers, it is Horrent that will bear thy mother's banner in the fight. Once more, Gudrun asked. And Fruta and Vata, are they too with our knights? In truth, replied the mermaid, Thou hast no truer friends than those same heroes. Fruta is on that ship whose helm count Vata's mighty arm directs. Again she was about to vanish, but Gudrun cried beseechingly. Tell me, I pray thee, when shall the first messenger from my mother appear to me? And the mermaid answered, as she slowly sank beneath the waves. Tomorrow morning two messengers will come to thee. Warriors are they both, on whom thou mayst rely. Gudrun and Hilberg were now so full of joy and hope that they only half completed their allotted tasks, and they talked of nothing but the beloved friends they were so soon to see. On their return in the evening, they were received by the wicked girlinda with bitter abuse, because they had accomplished so little work. Hilberg pleaded, Be patient with us, madam, for indeed we work as much as we are able, or it not for the biting winds that blow upon the shore we could do better. But the queen replied harshly, What care I for the cold winds? See to it your at your work be times upon the morrow. For there is much to be made ready for the feast, and if all be not finished by nightfall, in truth ye shall suffer for it more dearly than ever did servants of a king. After their scanty meal of bread and water, they sought the chamber where two hard benches without pillows of any sort served them as beds. But little sleep was there for them, so eagerly they watched for the first glimmer of dawn. At last a faint ray of light penetrated the chamber, and Hilberg arose and looked out of the window. Alas! she cried. What shall we do? Snow has fallen in the night. If we are forced to watch today in those piercing winds, by sunset they will surely find us dead upon the shore. Gudrun too shuddered at the thought, but she reminded Hilberg it was there they were to see the messengers, and this gave them courage. Also she said to her, Go thou to the queen and beseech her to give a shoes to wear today. If I ask it she will certainly refuse, so great is her hatred for me. So Hilberg sought the queen, who still lay in her luxurious bed, but the maiden dared not awaken her, and returned sadly to her companion. Gerlinda soon appeared, however, and berated them roughly for not being already at their work. Snow has fallen, o queen, said Hilberg. Give a shoes to wear, we pray thee, else shall we surely freeze. Buckerlinda only laughed, and cried scornfully, Let your pride keep you warm for sooth. No shoes shall you have from me, and beware if your work be not finished by nightfall. What would your deaths matter to me, fool? Weeping bitterly, Gudrun exclaimed, It may be God's will that I shall one day remind thee of this. And in their bare feet the poor maidens made their way through the march snows to the seashore, and began their painful task. End of Chapter 14 Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 15 Of Gudrun by Ferdinand Schmidt Translated by George Putnam Upton This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 15 The Two Nights Beyond the royal castle, the coast was thickly wooded for a long distance, and there the fleet from Hegelingen had lain concealed for two days, having reached Normity at last, after their long and tedious voyage. The horses were led ashore to stretch their stiffened limbs, and all was made ready for the approaching struggle. Vata charged his men to see that the fastenings of Helm and Hobbock were well secured, adding, If there be any who shirt of mail too loosely sits upon him, he may choose another, for Queen Hilda has provided five hundred fresh suits of armour, and each good night may claim one as his due. The heroes then held a council, and Ortvin said, Fruta hath seen seven castles from the tree on Yonder Hill, but which of them is Ludwig's and Hartmut's stronghold? We thirst to sail that, and before the battle we must also learn where Gudrun and the other maidens abide. Spies must be sent out, declared Fruta, whereupon Ortvin announced that he would be a spy, and go in quest of what they wished to learn. All protested against this plan, but the young hero said firmly, Mine is the task of right, since Gudrun is my sister. Tis true she is thy sister, brother Ortvin, said Hervig, but also is she my betrothed, therefore I will go with thee. This did not please Vata, and finding they were not to be moved from their purpose, he grew very wroth. This is but childish folly, he cried, and never will I agree to it. Would be bad enough were one of our knights to be seized by Hartmut's people, but how would it fare with you did such befall? We must shrink from no danger when Gudrun's rescue is at stake, replied Hervig. Nor would any in all the army be so zealous in her cause as we ourselves, wherefore gainsay us not, Gudvata, for thou canst not alter our determination. Then, summoning the foremost of their comrades, they charged them to fulfil faithfully the oaths they had sworn. Mark well my words, bold warriors, said Ortvin, should we be captured and held for ransom, sell all your lands and goods, if need be, to secure our freedom, but if they slay us, then avenge our death as befitth true comrades, and above all I charge you, spare no effort to deliver Gudrun and those other unhappy maidens. To this they all pledged themselves, and gave the princes their hand upon the promise, vowing never to rest till Gudrun was restored to her home. Then Ortvin and Hervig took leave of their comrades, stepped into a boat and pushed off, followed by many an anxious glance. Keeping close to the shore, they had rode almost to the nearest castle when, rounding a wooded point, they beheld two maidens on the strand. At the sight of the approaching knights, Gudrun was seized with mingled joy and fear. These must be the warriors of whom we were told, she said. Yet how can I endure the shame of it, should any messenger from my friends find me in this wretched plight? Tell me, I pray thee, dear Hilberk, what I shall do. Remain here at my shameful task, or seek refuge in flight. Surely thou knowest best what is befitting, replied Hilberk. Choose therefore quickly, and I will do as thou sayest. And with that Gudrun turned and fled. When the heroes saw the maidens disappearing, they hastily leaped ashore, for they had hoped to gain some information from them. Why do you flee from us, fair maids? they cried. Surely we mean you no harm. Come back, or you shall lose all the costly garments that lie here upon the shore. But the maidens paid no heed. Then Hervig shouted, I charge you in the name of woman's honour to reply to us. At this the tears started to Gudrun's eyes. Alas! she cried, have we ever forgotten ought that is due to woman's honour? No longer will I seek to flee. In therewith she returned to the shore, followed by Hilberk. The knights gazed at them in astonishment. For in spite of their long and arduous labours, they still retained their proud and lofty bearing, though so scantily clad that they shivered in the chill, march snow falling about them. Fear not! said Ortvin. Make God chastise any that would deal evilly by you. But me thinks ye are more fit to wear crowns than thus to toil beside the shore. Hath your master other washermaidens, so fair is ye? In Yondercastle are many maidens more beautiful than we, replied Gudrun. Yet I pray thee, sir, permit us to return to her task, for should I, mistress, see us idle, it would fair ill with us. Then Ortvin offered them four golden rings, saying, Nay, be not angry at our words, but take these rings. They shall be yours if ye will but answer truthfully the questions we would ask. Gudrun shook her head. We may take no gifts from ye, fair sirs, she answered. Yet put your questions quickly, for we must not stay. If it were known at the castle that we had talked with you, we should pay dearly for it. First tell us, then, said Hervig. To whom may all these rich lands and castles belong? King Ludwig is lord of this land, and in Yondercastle holds his court, replied Gudrun. Hervig asked if Hartmut was then at home. And Gudrun answered. He is even now within the castle, and with him full four thousand of his nights. The maidens would feign have departed, yet they were loath to leave the strangers, whose speech reminded them so much of home. We would learn further, said Ortvin. Wherefore Hartmut hath so many nights assembled at the castle, is he perchance at feud with some neighbouring country in seeking to guard himself against attack? Of that I know not, replied Gudrun, but after a pause she added. Yet there is one, a far distant land whose power Hartmut well might fear. It is called Hegelingen. As the name of the fatherland passed her lips, tears streamed down the maidens' cheeks, and she turned away to hide them. When the hero saw how the damsel shook with cold, they hastily offered their cloaks, but Gudrun refused them, saying, May God reward your kindness, gentle sirs, but none shall ever see me in man's attire. Thereupon Hervig looked more closely at her, and a sigh escaped him, as he seemed to see a likeness to the fair betrothed, whom he supposed to have been forced to become Hartmut's wife, little thinking that she now stood before him. Again Ortvin questioned her. Were not some noble damsels once brought hither from a distant land? One of them was called Gudrun. A last is true, she answered. Well do I know her whom thou namest. She came as Hartmut's captive, and much hath the poor maid been forced to bear. At this the heroes cried with one voice. Tell us quickly, damsel, where we may find her. If indeed it be she he seek, then never shall he find her more on earth, said Gudrun. Of grief and suffering is she dead, and lieeth deep beneath the flowery sod. Hervig covered his eyes with his hand, while Ortvin turned away, and leaned upon his sword, shaking his head sorrowfully. Then Gudrun cried, Why ye so moved by this news, sir Knights? Your press heave as they would burst your mail asunder. It would almost seem that ye were kin to that poor maid. Hervig could no longer contain his grief, but wrung his hands and cried aloud. A last noble damsel she was more than life to me. My bride betrothed to me by solemn vows when Hartmut treacherously did steal her from her home. Thy words of faults! cried Gudrun, Thou art not, Hervig. He would long since have sought to deliver her. Or were she no more than at the least her unhappy women? One of whom am I? Nay, by my faith, is truth I speak, said Hervig. If thou indeed art one of Gudrun's maidens, then wilt thou know this ring upon my finger. Fort was a gift from her who once did wear it. Then Gudrun's eyes shone like stars, and her cheeks flushed. Well, do I know both gold and jewel, she said. For it was I that wore the ring, and raising her own hand, she added. But chance thou knowest this also. Twas Hervig placed it on my finger. Now at last, brother and sister, bridegroom and bride, knew one another and wept together in mingled joy and sorrow. Still supposing her to be Hartmut's wife. Orkvin at length asked Gudrun how she, a queen, chanced to be in such wretched plight, and forced to perform such menial tasks. Weeping, she answered. How could thou think, my brother, that I would wed King Hartmut? Ever have I remained true to my plighted truth, and therefore am I forced to bear much evil. Well indeed, if we succeeded in our task, cried Hervig. Come, let us hasten to the potent I made in with thee. Our fleet is close at hand, and we will guide thee thither. Now of a truth are all thy sorrows ended. This may not be, replied Orkvin. Dear as my sister is to me. I had I a hundred sisters like to Gudrun. I would lose them every one, rather than steal them thus away like any thief. Yet we think thee how Gudrun's danger will increase when our presence here is known, remonstrated Hervig. But chance we shall never find her then. Have no fear, Hervig, answered Orkvin. Though my sister be buried in their deepest dungeon, thou still shall see her on the morrow. Yet even should it be otherwise, I would be hacked to pieces with her on this spot. Ay, as she should with my consent be taken away in secret. Gudrun said reproachfully, What evil have I done to thee, my brother, that thou wouldst leave me longer in servitude? Didst thou know what I am forced to bear? Thou wouldst take me hence this very hour. Think not, dear sister, replied Orkvin, that I fail in love for thee. But to do thus, believe me, would no nightly deed. Reluctantly, Hervig agreed with Orkvin in this, and they accordingly took leave of the maidens, and returned to their boat. Gudrun wept bitterly crying. Alas! at my troubles never to cease! For years have I waited and longed for this, only to be once more forsaken when I scarce have looked upon your faces. Tis but for a brief space that we leave thee, dearest maid, tried Hervig from the boat, that we may bear thee homeward in all honour. To-morrow morn at sunrise we shall be before the castle with a host, be of good cheer, and let no one know that thou hast seen us. God will be our aide. So saying, they seized their oars, and soon the boat was lost to sight, behind the bend in the shore. CHAPTER XVI. DANGER AND STRATTIGEM Now at chance that Harrogart, the damsel who was wedded to Hartmut's cut-bearer, had spied the two knights with Gudrun and Hilberg on the shore, and supposing them to be fishermen, she told the queen how Gudrun had kissed and embraced them. Hastening to the window, Gerlinda saw the maiden standing idle, and seeming by their motions to be talking eagerly together. So indeed they were, for they could think of nothing but their happiness, and the good fortune that was in store for them the next day. Two great and noble kings have this day held me in their arms, said Gudrun, and no longer will I degrade myself with the shameful task Gerlinda hath imposed on me. But Hilberg replied, me thinks to her better we did finish what was given us, for that wicked wretch will make us suffer yet more cruelly if she find it left undone. Nay, let come what will, cried Gudrun proudly, for me I cannot, and therewith she flung all the garments into the sea. For a time they floated on the surface, then sank, and were seen no more. By this time it was growing dark, and the maidens took their way back to the castle, where the queen met them with angry abuse. Wherefore terriest thou so late? she cried to Gudrun. The love of mighty kings thou dost despise forsooth, yet thou stupest to bendy words I in kisses too with low knaves upon the shore. Deny it not, for Heragart with her own eyes hath seen it. Me thinks thy boasted pride should keep thee from such deeds as this. Gudrun raised her head, and her cheeks flamed as she retorted. Tis shameful falsehood thou dost speak. Never have I held speech with any man in all this land, save he were of my friends or kindred. Ha! cried Gerlinda, choking with rage. Thou dares to give me the lie? Dearly shalt thou atone for this, thou spiteful jade. Take heed how thou dost do me further wrong, said Gudrun. Of noble blood am I then, thou, and thy whole house, and thou may one day have to reckon for your sins. Suddenly Gerlinda discovered the empty baskets, and asked where the garments were. At the bottom of the sea, replied Gudrun, where they may remain far out of me. Now shall it fare ill with you for this, shrieked the queen, and trembling with passion she ordered thorns to be brought, with which to scourge Gudrun's back, and bade two of her retainers bind the maiden to a post with hempen cords. At this a great weeping and wailing arose among the women, but Gudrun in her extremity resorted to an orifice. Gerlinda, she said, thou hast been greatly deceived, yet be think thee, how can it be that I should ever wear the crown of Normandy, if I have once been pound and scourged by knaves here in thy hand? In speechless astonishment the queen gazed at Gudrun, as if she had not heard her words aright. But the maiden continued, it is even as I say, if it be still his wish I will consent to wed thy son and be queen of Normandy. Fourth whist some knights who heard these words hastened to heartmet with the news, hoping for a reward. That hero was seated in his chamber with his comrades, listening to the tale of some aged warrior's heroic deeds, when the door flew open and a knight burst in, exclaiming, Good news, good news, most noble king! The lady Gudrun's heart hath softened, and she consents to be thy wife. Nay, surely thou art mad, said heartmet. How can it be when all these years she hath remained deaf to my entreaties? Yet, by my fate, than thy words prove true, thou shalt have three castles with all the lands there, too, I and sixty rings of gold moreover for thy news. Ah, then indeed would my life be blessed. Therewith came a second knight and said, The queen desires thy presence, my lord, for Gudrun agrees to accept thee as a husband. Then heartmet sprang up joyfully and hastened to Gudrun, whom he found still in her dripping garments. The tears started to her eyes at sight of him, for although necessity had forced her to this stratagem, it grieved her sorely that she must deceive him. He was about to clasp her to his heart, but she stepped back, saying, Nay, my lord, heartmet, there may not be as yet. Ill would it become a mighty king to stoop to a lowly serving maid as I am now, but when I stand before thee crowned in clad and royal robes, then mayest thou embrace me before all thy knights. Most noble maiden, replied heartmet, Since thou art now to be my wife, gladly will I do thy will in all things. If this be true, and I may here indeed command, said Gudrun, then do I desire a bath to be prepared at once, and let my damsels be restored to me. Thy wishes shall be a bade forthwith, replied heartmet, and he ordered the maidens to be summoned thither from their labours. Soon they appeared, clad and soiled in ragged garments, their hair hanging in disorder about their faces. Behold, O king, the plight of these poor maids, said Gudrun, pointing to them, me thinkst his little to thy honour they should meet with such mistreatment. All shall be changed now, I promise thee, fair maid, replied the king. See then that those who have been made to suffer for me, be provided with such apparel as befits their rank, for all are of noble birth, demanded Gudrun. After heartmet had issued these commands he left the hall, and the tire women, hoping thereby to win Gudrun's favour, performed their tasks with such seal and dispatch, that soon the maidens blossomed out fair and beautiful once more in their costly attire, but before Gudrun they all paled as do the stars before the sun. Then heartmet had rich vions laid before them, with wine and mead, and sending for his sister, Ortrun, he made known to her, that what they so long had prayed for, at last had come to pass. Ortrun hastened at once to Gudrun, and the two maidens wept in each other's arms. Once more they sat joyfully side by side, yet each had a different cause for happiness. Ortrun rejoicing that she was to have Gudrun as a sister, while Gudrun's thoughts were of her friends, and the deliverance that was to come to her through them. Already had it been agreed, said Ortrun, that I should wear the crown of the kingdom, for since thou did scorn heartmet he would always have remained unwitted. But to thee, dear Gudrun, I gladly yield both crown and royal honours. Her loving words brought tears to Gudrun's eyes, and she replied softly, Never hast thou shown me art but kindness. May God reward thee for it. Nor will I forget how often my sufferings have caused thee grief. Then turning to heartmet, she said, Do thou send messages to all thy friends, and summon them to court without delay. Not till these have shown themselves loyal to me may I wear the crown of thy kingdom in peace and safety. So heartmet went forthwith, and chose a hundred knights to ride forth with messages that very night, much to Gudrun's secret joy, for she knew these warriors would be far from the battlefield by the next morning. Then she begged to be left alone with her damsels after their long separation, and Gerlinda and heartmet yielded willingly to her desire. Ortrun too kissed her friend and departed, while heartmet sent cup-bearers and servers, who once more loaded the tables with food and drink. One of the maidens cried woefully, My heart is like to break, for now we shall see home no more, but ever abide here with those who brought us hither to our sorrow. And she began to weep as did all the rest. Gudrun dared not speak now of the news which had brought her such comfort, but her joy was so great that she laughed aloud. Word of this was brought to Gerlinda, who told Ludwig of it, and then sought heartmet. My son, she said, Believe me, some dire evil threatens us. Gudrun, whose lips have never smiled in all these years, hath just laughed aloud, so that the sound of it was heard in the hall without. Some secret message must have reached her with good news. Be on thy guard, I say, and see that thy comrades are well armed. But heartmet was too full of joy to harbour any thought of ill. Begrudge not her happiness to the maid, was his reply. Her friends are much too far away ever to come hither to seek her. After their repasse, Gudrun asked the servitors if beds had been prepared for her and her women. Whereupon taking lights, they led them to a hall in which stood thirty beds, with pillows of gaily-coloured Arabian stuffs, and decked with coverlets of silk cunningly interwoven with threads of gold which gleamed like fire. Gudrun dismissed them, saying, We would feign seek rest such as has long been denied us. Wherefore depart and leave us to ourselves? When they were alone, the doors were made fast, and all seated themselves to partake of the rare wines that had been placed upon the table. Then Gudrun said in a low voice, At last, dear maidens, I may make known what cause we have for rejoicing. All have remained true to me into the Fatherland save one, Heragart, who will sorely rue her infidelity, I fear. This very day my brother Ortvin and Hervig, my betroth, came to me bringing good tidings. Tomorrow you yourselves shall see them before the castle with all their host. Harken now and mark my words. She who with morning's light shall first discover the banners of our friends and tell me of it will have rich reward. Now the joy of the maidens knew no bounds, but Gudrun, fearing there were listeners without the door, bade them repress all expression thereof that might betray them. End of Chapter 16 Recording by Stephen Fellows Chapter 17 of Gudrun by Ferdinand Schmidt translated by George Putnam Upton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 17 The Morning When Ortvin and Hervig returned from their quest, the other heroes hastened joyfully to meet them and asked what news they brought. Quickly summon all our comrades and then you shall learn all, replied Ortvin, when the warriors had gathered about him in a circle he began. Fain would I leave unsaid which I have to tell, good comrades. I have seen my sister Gudrun and her companion Hilberg. Here one of the knights interrupted him, saying, Make no mock of us, Sir Prince, how could that have been? Gudrun, if indeed she yet doth live, would surely be kept safe within the castle. Ill would it become me to make sport of gallant knights, replied Ortvin. If you doubt my words ask Hervig, then, for he did also see her, yet alas, twas in such a plight that deeply must we sorrow for her fate. We found her with Hilberg, who doth share her lot, as a washermaiden on the shore. At this the heroes shed tears of grief and rage, but old Vata shouted, Now, by the mass, this is no time for tears. Rather let us go forthwith, and die those garments crimson that Gudrun hath washed white for Hartmut and his knights. A council was now held to determine the best plan for attacking the castle, both by land and sea. Let me but have them once within my reach, said Vata, and I will thank them well for what they have done to Gudrun. Harken now to my council. One part of our forces must approach the castle walls by land before the dawn. This I myself will lead. The moon shines bright, and ere to this day we shall have the castle surrounded on every side, while in the early morning he shall bring the rest of our warriors with the fleet to aid us from the sea. This plan was at once agreed upon, and all busied themselves with preparations for departure. Long before daybreak Vata with his force had completely surrounded the castle on the landward side. A wood concealed the horsemen, who stretched themselves out with their heads upon their shields to enjoy a brief repose. Vata had enjoined them, however, to be early astir, and linger not after the first sign of dawn. At the first sound of his hunting horn all were to seize their arms, at the second seek their steeds, and at the third they were to swing themselves into their saddles, and follow the banner of the queen, which was to be borne before them. Hervig, Ortvin, and the other heroes, meanwhile, had embarked with their followers and were waiting for the dawn. Quickly the night hours passed, and the morning sun rose in splendor from the sea. From helm and harness, spear and shield, shot forth in dazzling ray, a sea of fire which seemed to spring, from wood and plain and bay, and rolling in swift circling course about the castle lay. Gay banners in the morning glow, soon waved on every height, in majesty like giant swans upon the waters bright, glided the ships with sails outspread, in truth a noble sight. One of the damsels approached Gudrun's bed and cried, Awaken, lady, for our night's in here. Quickly she sprang up and hastened to the window, but when she saw the banners fluttering in the morning breeze, and looked down on the thousands who were joyously pressing on to battle, she burst into tears at the thought of how many gallant heroes must fall in death that day. Suddenly the tower warden raised his mighty voice. Up, up, bold knights, he shouted, up into arms. Already have the Norman heroes slept too long. Girlinda heard his cry, and, springing from her bed, mounted to the battlements of the castle, and gazed down tremblingly on the host. Then she hurried down to arouse King Ludwig, who as yet had heard nothing of the alarm. Awaken, Awaken, O King! she cried in shrill tones. Our castle is surrounded by a mighty army, and dearly shall we have to pay this day for Gudrun's laughter. Ludwig bade her be silent, declaring he must see this army with his own eyes. Yet come what will, he said. I am ready to meet it. Then going to the window and looking down at the advancing host, he added, for chance they are but pilgrims coming hither, bent on sail and barter. Call us on Hartmut, he will know. Hartmut was already awake. He allowed his men to sleep on, however, and mounted to the battlements with Ludwig. Meanwhile the sun had lit the depths below, and when Hartmut beheld the serried ranks, he said, These are no pilgrims, surely. They press upon us far too closely. Look at the banners, my son, said Ludwig. My eyes cannot distinguish the devices. After a moment Hartmut spoke. I see one yonder that hath the look of an enemy's. I, it, is the banner of Karada. On a brown field waves ahead of ruddy gold. These are no welcome guests, for ere that standard sinks full many a stalwart hero will have suffered death. Siegfried, who leads them, once did also woo Gudrun. The white one were the golden bars that flies beside it, Vata hath unfurled. Queen Hilda gave it to him. The aged hero to the right is Frutte, brother-in-arms to Vata. Yonder is Horrent, who doth sing such beauty as lays. Now shall he chant for us a slumber song when we have slain the foe, and would gain rest from warfare. That one were the red bars and silver sword-points is borne by Ortvin, whose father thou did slay upon the volpinsand. And seeest thou yarn banneret of sky-blue silk, whereon green sea-weeds are emblazoned? That is the device of Hervig, king of Zeeland. He thinks to win back his bride, poor fool. It is not his love, but death he shall embrace ere long, forsooth. Many are there yet that I do see, but now they make ready to attack the castle. Let us also arm for the fray. So, saying, Hartmut descended to the hall, where his night still slept and shouted, Awake ye heroes, for the foe is at our gates! Up, then, arm yourselves! We surely would not show them such discourtesy as to make them wait for us before the walls. Quickly the news spread through the castle, and arms were dawned with joyous speed. No sooner did Gerlinda learn that her son was preparing to go out and meet the foe, than she hastened to him and cried reprovingly, Surely thou wilt not open the gates and put thyself in peril without reason? Have we not food for a year within the castle, so that we may endure a siege? Let the enemy dash their heads to pieces against the walls, if they will. Hartmut was displeased at this, and said, It is not me, my mother, for thee to counsel warriors in such matters. Go teach thy women to embroider silk with gold and precious stones, which more be fitted thee, or send Gudrun to the shore again to wash thy garments. Thou seeest now she still hath friends to avenge her wrongs. But Gerlinda only redoubled her in treaties. Nay, if thou wilt but be guided by my words, my son, then shell the foe be brought to naught before the castle and never win back her we hold captive here. Seeing that Hartmut remained unmoved, she turned to his knights and cried, Throw not away your life so foolishly, but stay within and fling down stones and beams upon the enemy, or slay them with bolts from your arblasts. Hartmut sprang up angrily. Peace, I say. No longer seek to counsel those who know better than thou what were best to do. Shame enough was it to me that I once did flee before them on the Vulpen's hand, and this stain will I to-day wipe out, that my honour may once more shine as bright as gold. I, on the field of battle, will I meet them come what may, for rather would I there be slain than live pent up within these walls. Gerlinda dared not gain say him further, but turned weeping to the knights. I beseech you, sirs, to guard my gallant son with all your power. If you but equal him in valor, then surely will a splendid victory be ours. Now thou hast spoken well, my mother, said Hartmut, and all who loyally stand by me to-day against the foe shall share I promise on my honour in the spoils. TRANSLATED by George Putnam Upton Soon the gates of the huge castle were thrown open, and Hartmut rode forth followed by three thousand of his knights, leaving the rest to guard the gates and walls of the castle. Proudly waved their banners, and helm and armour glittered in the morning sun. Vaata's hunting-horn sounded for the third time, so mighty a blast that it almost seemed to shake the walls and cause great forest trees to tremble. The old hero Bade Horrent lead the van and bear Queen Hilda's banner, while he rode hither and thither, disposing his men in battle array. At a turret window Gudrun stood, waving a white kerchief. As the Norman knights appeared, Ortvin asked, Who may your hero be who leads the band? His armour gleams like lightning in the sun, and nobly doth he bear him. Me thinks an emperor would scarcely ride more proudly. That, my lord, is Hartmut, replied one of the knights. He who did steal away thy sister. Ha! is it so? cried Ortvin. Now had the wicked Galinda best aid him to find his way back in safety to the castle, and he lowered his spear and plunged the spurs into the flanks of his snow-white charger so that it bounded high in the air. But Hartmut had now discovered Ortvin also, and made ready to attack him. On they rushed, and came together with such force that both horses were overthrown. Out fleshed the long swords from their golden sheaths, and played like lightning about the helms of the two heroes. It was indeed a mighty combat, but ere long they were forced apart by the rush of warriors eager for the fray, and the conflict became general. On all sides arose the din of battle. Siegfried was attacked by a band of Hartmut's knights, but he laid about him so stoutly that his assailants soon succumbed to the fury of his blows. Hervig, who was fighting for his bride, dashed joyously into the battle with colours flying, and Gudrun soon recognised him by his noble form and shining armour. Ludwig led his followers against the Danes who fought under Hilda's banner. Notwithstanding his years, the Old King still had the strength of a bear, and many a stout helm was shattered by his sword-strokes, as he cut his way deep into the ranks of the enemy. But Fruta, with his holestines and frisians rode against him, and slew many of his followers, while mooring an ear old strewed the earth with dead. Once more the tide of battle brought Ortvin and Hartmut face to face, and again shield and helm re-echoed with their sounding blows. Each was determined his foe should not this time escape him, and at last the Ortvin fought bravely, Hartmut succeeded in piercing his helm with a sword-stroke. When the Danes saw their young chief's armour streaked with blood, they pressed on furiously, but many a good night was slain ere they reached the princes and snatched Ortvin from death. Horrent dashed up to learn who would smitten his dear Lord so sorely. Ortvin told him, and Hartmut, who was not far distant, laughed scornfully, were at Horrent, giving Hilda's banner into the hands of a knight, rushed fiercely upon the Norman King. But many men stood between, and Horrent's sword dealt such slaughter among them that Hartmut cried, ''John Knight hath wrought enough of evil to us. Soon shall he strike his last blow.'' Enforcing his way to Horrent, he attacked him so fiercely that he was born to the ground and would surely have been slain had not his comrades hastened to his rescue and carried him from out the press. Such was Hartmut's strength and valor that many began to doubt whether they should succeed in taking the castle. But as soon as the wounds of Ortvin and Horrent had been bound up, those heroes returned to the battle with unabated courage, while Vata, meanwhile, had wrought terrible havoc among the Normans. Yet fast as they fell, others pressed on to avenge the death of their brethren, and ever-hutter and fiercer waged the conflict.