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The Nibelungenlied: The Lay of the Nibelungs (Oxford World's Classics)

Page 5

by Cyril Edwards


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  Sigmunt came to hear these tidings. His people talked about it, which is how he came to know of his son’s wishes—it was a great sorrow to him that he wanted to woo that most noble maiden.

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  Siglint, the noble king’s wife, also came to hear it. She was very concerned for her son, for she was well acquainted with Gunther and his vassals. They tried their hardest to deter the knight from his wooing.

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  Then bold Sivrit said: ‘My beloved father, I would always remain without a noble lady’s love unless I were to woo one for whom my heart holds very great love.* No matter what anyone may say, there is nothing else for it.’

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  ‘If you will not change your mind,’ the king replied, ‘then I truly rejoice in your wishes, and will help you to carry them out as best as I possibly can. Yet King Gunther has haughty vassals in great numbers. Were there none other but Sir Hagen, he knows how to practise

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  pride in his arrogance, so that I very much fear it may cost us dear if we wish to woo that most noble maiden.’

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  ‘How can that hinder us?’ replied Sivrit. ‘What I cannot obtain from them by friendly request, my hands may win there by my valour. I trust I can win both people and land from them by force.’

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  Then Prince Sigmunt said: ‘Your words trouble me, for if these tidings were told by the Rhine, you would never be permitted to ride into that land. I have long been acquainted with Gunther and Gernot. No one can win that maiden by force,’ said King Sigmunt.*

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  ‘I have this on good authority. Yet if you wish to ride with warriors into that land, then such friends as we have will soon be sent for.’

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  ‘I do not intend’, Sivrit replied, ‘that warriors should accompany me to the Rhine on any campaign to win that fairest of maidens by force—that would be very much against my wishes. My own

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  hands alone will be well capable of winning her there. I will go with twelve others* into Gunther’s land. You must help me in this, father Sigmunt.’

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  Then they gave to his knights grey and coloured garments.* His mother Siglint then also came to hear of these tidings. She grew sad, fearing to lose her dear son at the hands of Gunther’s men. The noble queen wept full sorely.

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  Lord Sivrit walked over to her. He spoke kind words to his mother: ‘Lady, you must not weep for my sake. Indeed, I am free of all fear of any fighting man. Help me on my journey into Burgundy, so

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  that I and my warriors may have such garments as proud heroes may honourably wear. I shall be truly grateful to you for that, rest assured.’

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  ‘Since you will not change your mind,’ said Lady Siglint, ‘then I will help you on your journey, my only child, with the best garments a knight ever wore, for you and your companions. You shall have plenty of them to take with you.’

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  Young Sivrit then bowed to the queen. He said: ‘I will have no more than twelve warriors with me on the journey. Have garments prepared for them. I look forward to seeing how things stand with regard to Kriemhilt.’

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  Then fair ladies sat night and day, few of them taking any rest, until Sivrit’s garments had been wrought. He would on no account abandon his journey. His father ordered that the knightly garb with

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  which he wanted to depart from Sigmunt’s land be well adorned, and gleaming breastplates were also made ready for them, together with sturdy helmets and beautiful, broad shields.

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  Then the time for their journey to Burgundy drew near. Both men and women grew anxious about them, worrying whether they would ever return to their homeland. The heroes ordered that both their armour and garments should be loaded onto packhorses. Their

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  horses were handsome, their harness red with gold. If anyone alive had greater pride than Sivrit and his men, then there was no need for it. He then asked for leave to depart for Burgundy. It was with sad

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  feelings that the king and his wife gave their consent. He then consoled them both with affection. He said: ‘You must not weep for my sake. You must always be free of any anxiety for me.’

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  The warriors grieved; many a maiden also wept. I believe that their hearts had rightly told them that so many of their friends would lie dead in consequence. It was only right that they then lamented—they had good reason to do so.

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  On the seventh morning after that the valiant warriors rode to the shore by Worms. All their garments were of red gold, their harness well-favoured. Their chargers walked at an even pace, those of bold Sivrit’s men. Their shields were new, bright, and broad, and their

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  helmets most handsome, when valiant Sivrit rode to court there, into Gunther’s land. Never were heroes seen to wear such splendid garments. The points of their swords reached down to their spurs.

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  Those outstanding knights carried sharp javelins. The one that Sivrit bore was some two spans* broad, its blades cutting with a most fearsome edge. They held the gold-coloured bridles in their hands. Their

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  horses’ breast-straps were of silk. Thus they arrived in Burgundy. The people everywhere gaped at the sight. Then many of Gunther’s men ran towards them. Those proud warriors, knights and squires, went to

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  meet those lords, as was only right, and welcomed those strangers into their lords’ land, taking their horses from them and their shields from their hands. They wanted to lead the chargers away to the stables.

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  Valiant Sivrit was quick to speak then: ‘Let the horses stand alongside us, by me and my men. We want to depart from here soon, so I fully intend. If anyone knows where I may find the king, most powerful

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  Gunther of Burgundy, let him tell me.’ Then one of them who knew all about it told him.

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  ‘If you wish to find the lord, that can come about easily enough. I saw him there in that spacious hall, together with his heroes—you must make your way over there. You may find great numbers of proud vassals with him there.’

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  By now the tidings had been told to the king that most gallant knights had arrived there, wearing shining breastplates and splendid garments. No one in Burgundy recognized them. The king wondered

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  where those noble knights in their bright garments and with such good shields, new and broad, had come from. It irked Gunther that no one could tell him.

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  Ortwin of Metz, who was reputed to be mighty and bold, replied to the king: ‘Since we recognize none of them, you must have my uncle Hagen come—have him see them. The kingdoms and foreign lands are all well known to him. If he has knowledge of these lords, he will tell us.’

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  The king asked that he and his men be brought. They saw him walk nobly to court with his warriors. Hagen asked what the king wanted of him.

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  ‘There are knights in my castle, strangers to us, whom no one here recognizes. If you have ever seen them, Hagen, tell me in truth who they are.’

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  ‘I will do so,’ said Hagen. He then walked over to a window. He turned his eye,* then, upon the strangers. Both their bearing and their garments pleased him well. They were complete strangers to him, there in Burgundy. He said that wherever those warriors had come

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  from to the Rhine, they might be princes themselves, or princes’ messengers. Their chargers were handsome, their garments excellent. No matter where they had travelled from, they were high-spirited.

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  Hagen then spoke as follows: ‘I would go so far as to say, although I have never seen Sivrit, that I do indeed believe that he is the warrior who walks so proudly there, whatever his purpose
may be.

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  He is bringing new tidings into this land.’ Hagen went on: ‘That hero’s hands slew the bold Nibelungs, Schilbunc and Nibelunc, those powerful king’s sons.* Thereafter he achieved mighty marvels by his great strength. When the hero was riding alone, without any

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  assistance, he found bold men in great numbers at the foot of a mountain, standing by the hoard of Nibelunc, so I am reliably informed. They were as yet strangers to him, until he made their acquaintance there. The entire hoard of the Nibelungs had all been

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  carried out of a hollow hill. Now hear marvels told of how the men of the Nibelungs wanted to share it out. Sir Sivrit saw that—the hero wondered at it. He came so close to them that he could see the heroes,

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  and the knights could see him, too. One amongst them said: “Here comes mighty Sivrit, the hero of the Netherlands.” He found very strange tidings among the Nibelungs. Schilbunc and Nibelunc gave

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  the warrior a good welcome. By common consent the young, noble princes asked the handsome man to share out the treasure among them, imploring him to do so. The lord promised them that he would.

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  He saw so many precious stones, so we hear tell, that a hundred waggons could not carry them—more still of the red gold of the land of the Nibelungs. Bold Sivrit’s hands were to share all this out among them. Then they gave him as a reward Nibelunc’s sword. They were

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  rewarded very ill for the service that Sivrit, the worthy hero, was to perform for them there. He couldn’t put an end to the dispute—they were in an angry mood.

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  They had twelve bold men among their friends there who were mighty giants. What did that avail them? Next Sivrit in his anger slew them with his hands, and he forced into submission seven hundred men of the land of the Nibelungs, with the good sword which

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  was called Balmunc. Because of the mighty fear that great numbers of young warriors had of that sword and its bold bearer, they made the land and its castles subject to him. Moreover, he slew both the powerful kings.

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  After that he met with great danger from Albrich, who wanted to avenge his lords at once there, until he found what great strength Sivrit possessed. The strong dwarf could not match him in battle

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  then. Like wild lions they ran to the mountain, where he afterwards gained the cloak of invisibility from Albrich. Then Sivrit, that fearsome fighter, became lord over the hoard. Those who had dared

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  to fight there all lay slain. He quickly gave the order that the treasure be carried and carted to the cave from which Nibelunc’s men had previously taken it. Mighty Albrich then became chamberlain in charge of the treasure. He had to swear oaths to serve Sivrit as his vassal.

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  He was ready to do his bidding in all things.’ Those were Hagen of Tronege’s words. ‘That is what he has achieved. Never did any warrior gain such great strength. I know yet more about him: that

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  hero’s hands slew a dragon. He bathed in the blood—his skin turned horny. Therefore no sword can cut him, as has often been shown.

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  We must give the lord a good welcome to avoid earning the young warrior’s enmity in any way. He is so bold that he ought to be kept on friendly terms. He has performed so many marvels, thanks to his great strength.’

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  Then the powerful king said: ‘You may well be right. Look now, how warrior-like he stands, ready for battle, both he and his knights—that valiant man. We must go down to him, to meet the warrior.’

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  ‘You may do so without dishonour,’ replied Hagen. ‘He is of noble kin, a powerful king’s son. He stands there with such an air that, Christ knows, it seems to me that no small matters have caused him to ride here!’

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  Then the king of that land said: ‘Now let him be welcome here. He is noble and bold, as I have clearly heard. Nor shall he lose by that in Burgundy.’

  Then Lord Gunther walked over to Sivrit. The host and his warriors

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  gave the stranger such a welcome that very little was lacking in their courtesy. The handsome man bowed to them in thanks for their having greeted him so splendidly.

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  ‘I wonder, noble Sivrit, where you have come from,’ said the king at once, ‘riding into this land, or what your purpose is in Worms by the Rhine.’

  Then the stranger said to the king: ‘That shall not be concealed from you. In my father’s land I was told that alongside you here are

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  the boldest warriors that a king ever gained—I’d gladly learn if this is true! I’ve heard a great deal about this. That is why I have come here. Moreover, I have heard such bravery imputed to you yourself

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  that no bolder king may ever have been seen. People talk much about this all over these lands. Now I will not rest until I have found this out for myself. I am also a warrior and was myself to wear a crown.*

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  I would have it that people say of me that I rightfully possess both people and land. My honour, and my head, too, shall be the pledge for that. Now you are so bold, so I am told, that I don’t care whether

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  anyone likes it or not—I will win by force from you all that you may have. Your lands and castles shall be subject to me!’

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  The king marvelled, as did his men, at what they heard there, that Sivrit was intent on taking his lands from him. His knights heard this—at that, anger made their acquaintance.

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  ‘How might I have deserved,’ said Sir Gunther, ‘that we should lose what my father long maintained in all honour by any one man’s strength? That would be a poor way for us to show that we also practise chivalry.’

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  ‘I will have it no other way,’ said bold Sivrit. ‘Unless your land can be protected by your valour, I shall rule over it all, as well as my own inheritance. If you win that by your strength, then it shall all be subject to you. Your inheritance, and mine also, shall be equally at

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  stake. Whichever one of us can vanquish the other shall have all serve him, both people and lands.’

  Gernot and Hagen objected at once. ‘We have no intention’, said

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  Gernot then, ‘of forcing any lands into submission, with people lying dead in the cause at a hero’s hands. We possess rich lands: they serve us by right—they could not be in any better keeping.’

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  Gunther’s allies stood there in a grim mood. Among them also was Ortwin of Metz. He said: ‘This appeasement grieves me greatly. Mighty Sivrit has declared hostilities against you without cause.

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  Even if you and your brothers did not possess such strong defences, and if Sivrit had led a whole king’s army here, I would be confident of doing battle so well that this bold man would be given good cause to abandon such great arrogance.’

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  That greatly enraged the hero of the Netherlands. He said: ‘You have no right to presume to do battle against me. I am a powerful king, but you are a king’s vassal. In any case, twelve of your like could never take me on in battle!’

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  Then Ortwin of Metz called out loudly for swords—it was easy to see he was Hagen of Tronege’s sister’s son. That Hagen himself kept silent for so long grieved the king.

  Then Gernot, that bold and gallant knight, intervened. He said

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  to Ortwin: ‘Let your anger be. Lord Sivrit has not done us any such wrong that we may not still readily settle the matter in a courteous way—that’s my counsel—and have him be our ally. That would give us still greater renown.’

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  Then mighty Hagen said: ‘We may well have cause to regret, as may also all your knights, that he ever ro
de to the Rhine in search of battle here. He should not have done so. My lords had done him no such wrongs as might merit this.’

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  Sivrit, that mighty man, replied: ‘If what I have said troubles you, Sir Hagen, then I shall let it be shown that these hands of mine want to wield great mastery here in Burgundy!’

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  ‘I alone shall forestall that,’ said Gernot in reply. He then forbade all his knights to speak any haughty words that might anger him.

  Sivrit’s thoughts, for his part, then turned to the noble maiden.

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  ‘How would it become us to do battle with you?’ continued Gernot. ‘No matter how many warriors would inevitably lie dead in consequence, we’d win small honour by it and you very little profit.’

  Sivrit, King Sigmunt’s son, replied to him: ‘Why is Hagen tarrying,

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  and Ortwin also, not hastening to do battle along with his friends, so many of whom he has here in Burgundy?’

  They had to leave off such talk—that was Gernot’s counsel. ‘We bid you welcome here,’ said Uote’s son,* ‘along with your companions-in-arms who have come with you. We shall willingly serve you, I and my kinsmen.’

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  Then they bade that Gunther’s wine be poured out for the guests.

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  The lord of the land then said: ‘All that we possess, if it is honourable for you to wish for it, shall be at your disposal, and let our men and our possessions be shared with you.’ At that Lord Sivrit grew some-what more gently disposed towards them.

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  They then ordered that all their garments be put in safe-keeping. Lodgings were sought, the best to be found, for Sivrit’s squires. They gave them good quarters. After that the guest was gladly seen amongst the Burgundians there.

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  For many days thereafter he was offered great honour—a thousand times more than I can tell you. His valour had earned him that, you may well believe. There was scarcely anyone who saw him who was hostile towards him. The kings, and their men also, indulged in

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  pastimes. Sivrit was always the best, no matter what they undertook there. No one could match him, so great was his strength, when they threw the stone or shot the shaft.* Whenever, in their courtesy, those

 

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