The Nibelungenlied Part 145

Straight replied the minstrel, "Sir knight, howe'er you may Put my strings out of order and spoil my viol's play, This hand shall first dim sadly our helmets brilliancy, However chance may bring me back to fair Burgundy."

x.x.xVII

With that the furious Wolfhart had leapt upon him fain, But Hildebrand, his uncle, still held him back amain.

"Thy silly rage would drive thee, I ween, to draw the sword, And so thou'dst lose forever the favor of my lord."

x.x.xVIII

"Let loose the lion, master, that storms so fierce and proud.

If I can only reach him," the minstrel shouted loud, "Though all the world together his prowess may have slain, I'll strike him such a swordstroke, he'll ne'er reply again."

x.x.xIX

By this the Berner's fury was kindled to the height.

His s.h.i.+eld at once before him held Wolfhart the swift knight.

Forward, like a wild lion, he darted to th' attack.

A crowd of nimble followers cl.u.s.ter'd at his back.

XL

But swift as was the warrior, and swift as was his band, First at the foot of the staircase was aged Hildebrand.

None would he have before him where'er a field was fought.

Soon among the strangers found they what they sought.

XLI

Straight upon Sir Hagan leapt Master Hildebrand; The sword you might hear clatter in either champion's hand.

Well might you note their fury by many a st.u.r.dy stroke.

From their clas.h.i.+ng broadswords a fire-red blast there broke.

XLII

Soon were they swept asunder by th' heady stream of fight; 'Twas done by the fierce Berners hurtling in their might.

So from grim Sir Hagan turn'd off that aged man.

Wolfhart meanwhile in fury at valiant Folker ran.

XLIII

On the good helm the minstrel he smote with fell intent, So that the edge, descending, e'en to the beaver went.

That stroke the forceful gleeman repaid with such a blow, As sent the st.u.r.dy Wolfhart tottering to and fro.

XLIV

They clash'd, that from the hauberks sparks were seen to start, Either bore the other deadly hate at heart.

A Berner then, Sir Wolfwine, parted that stormy fight.

Who on such deed could venture, was sure a prowest knight.

XLV

The n.o.ble king, Sir Gunther, with frank and willing hand Met the renowned champions of th' Amelungers' land.

Then, too, the good Sir Giselher himself so knightly bore, That he made the polish'd morions red and wet with gore.

XLVI

Dankwart, Hagan's brother, was a champion grim.

Whate'er on Etzel's meiny had late been wrought by him, A puff was to the tempest that now to rise began; So furiously did battle the son of Aldrian.

XLVII

Ritschart as well as Gerbart, Helfrich and Wichart, too, Spared themselves but seldom with b.l.o.o.d.y work to do; This in the fierce hurly to Gunther's men they show'd.

Into the strife Sir Wolfbrand like a n.o.ble warrior strode.

XLVIII

Then, as though he were frantic, fought aged Hildebrand.

Many a good knight, o'ermaster'd by Wolfhart's stalwart hand Into the blood, death-stricken, beneath his broadsword fell.

Thus the bold knights of Dietrich reveng'd the margrave well.

XLIX

Then, as his courage mov'd him, the good Sir Siegstab strove; Ah! how the glittering morions of his stern foes he clove In that tempestuous conflict, Sir Dietrich's sister's son!

Amidst the storm of battle ne'er had he better done.

L

The valiant minstrel Folker, soon as he espied A b.l.o.o.d.y brook forth gus.h.i.+ng as Siegstab fiercely plied His sword upon the hauberks, in a storm of rage was tossed; Furious he leapt upon him; at once Sir Siegstab lost

LI

His life by that stern minstrel, who, to the warrior's ill, Proof gave him so resistless of his surpa.s.sing skill, That at a stroke before him down fell dead the knight.

Him straight revenged Sir Hildebrand, as well beseem'd his might.