970
With pangs of thirst was Siegfried the warrior sorely smit:
The sooner then the table he gave them word to quit;
Along the hill-side would he unto the fountain wend.
Thus what the knights had plotted drew on towards its end.
971
The game that had been slaughter’d by Siegfried’s cunning hand,
They bade men pile on wagons, and carry through the land.
And everyone who saw it his praise and honour spake.
Right grievously did Hagen his troth to Siegfried break.
972
Whilst to the shady lindens they were upon their way,
Cried Hagen, lord of Tronjé: “Oft have I heard men say
That to Kriemhilda’s husband no one a match could be
When he would show his paces: ay! will he let us see!”
973
Then spake the Netherlander Siegfried, the valiant:
“Now is the time for trying, if ye a wager want,
From here unto the fountain; so soon as it be done
The onlookers shall settle which is the foremost one.”
974
“Now verily we’ll try it,” the warrior Hagen said.
Then quoth the stalwart Siegfried: “If ye come in ahead,
Before your feet I’ll lay me full length upon the grass.”
When Gunther heard the promise, how glad at heart he was!
975
Then spake the bold thane further: “Yet something more I’ll say,
I’ll carry all the clothing that I have worn to-day—
My spear and eke my buckler, and all my hunting gear.”
His sword and quiver bound he around him then and there.
976
But they, the king and Hagen, their upper clothes did doff:
In two white shirts one saw them stand ready to be off.
As fleet as two wild panthers they through the clover ran:
Yet at the spring bold Siegfried came in the foremost man.
977
In all he put his hand to he won the prize from all.
Straightway his sword he loosen’d and let his quiver fall;
Against a bough of linden he let his stout spear rest;
Close by the flowing fountain now stood the stately guest.
978
And herein also Siegfried did manifest his worth:
He laid his shield beside him where flow’d the fountain forth,
But, greatly as he thirsted, the hero tasted not
Before the king had drunken: base thanks from him he got.
979
Cool was the spring of water, and clean, and bright, and good;
And Gunther bent him downwards to the refreshing flood;
As soon as he had quenchéd his thirst, away he came;
Then ready was bold Siegfried and would have done the same.
980
His courtesy and breeding, then met with their reward:
For Hagen to the background withdrew his bow and sword.
Then back again ran quickly to where he found the spear,
And looked to find a token the hero’s coat did bear.
981
And whilst the noble Siegfried drank of the rippling flood
He stabb’d him through the cross-mark, and through the wound his blood
Straight from his heart outspurted, and Hagen’s shirt was wet;
So foul a misdeed never befell a hero yet.
982
He left the lance within him close to his heart stuck tight;
And grimly then did Hagen betake himself to flight,
As in his life he never from mortal man did flee.
The stalwart Siegfried, feeling how sorely smit was he,
983
All madly from the fountain in rage and anguish sprang,
Whilst from between his shoulders a long lance-shaft did hang.
The chieftain thought to find there his bow, or else his sword:
Then verily had Hagen not gone without reward.
984
But when the knight sore-wounded his sword had fail’d to find,
And saw that they had left him naught save his shield behind,
He gripp’d it from the well’s side, and after Hagen ran:
Then vainly to escape him essay’d King Gunther’s man.
985
Though he to death was wounded, so mightily smote he,
That from the hero’s buckler there fell abundantly
The precious stones that deck’d it; the shield itself did break;
The noble guest his vengeance was fain enow to wreak.
986
Yet by his hand must Hagen lie stretch’d upon the ground.
So hard, in sooth, his blows were, they made the glebe resound.
Had he his sword had handy, then Hagen had been slain.
The wound was burning sorely, and made him writhe with pain.
987
His cheeks had lost their colour; no longer stand could he,
And all his strength of body was failing utterly;
Death’s sign upon his forehead in pallid hue he bore:
Fair women soon were mourning for him with weeping sore.
988
Then fell Kriemhilda’s husband upon the flowery sward:
One saw from out the lance-wound, how fast his life-blood pour’d.
Upbraiding then began he— forced by his mortal pain—
Those who had thus betray’d him and treacherously slain.
989
“Ye perjured, lying cowards,” the dying warrior said,
“What hath avail’d my service, since thus ye strike me dead?
To you aye was I faithful: and thus do ye repay!
Your kith and kin shall suffer for what ye’ve wrought this day.
990
“The children born unto ye shall be, from this day forth,
For evermore accurséd, for ye have wreak’d your wrath,
And vengeance all too sorely upon my body done:
Now ye, with scorn and hatred, all worthy knights shall shun.”
991
The knights all ran together to where he stricken lay.
To many a man among them it was a joyless day.
They who had aught of honour sore lamentation made.
From all he well deserved it, this hero undismay’d.
992
The king of the Burgundians mourn’d also for his death.
Then spake the dying chieftain: “Small need is there, in faith,
That he who work’d the evil should grieve that it be done:
Much blame he hath deservéd: ’twere better left alone!”
993
Grim Hagen spake to Gunther: “What art thou weeping for?
For done is our vexation and all our sorrows o’er:
We shall find few henceforward who ’gainst us dare to stand.
Glad am I that his kingship hath perish’d by my hand!”
994
“ ’Tis easy now to vaunt ye,” said Siegfried, in reply,
“If I had known beforehand your deadly enmity,
Alone would I against ye have well maintain’d my life:
For naught grieve I so sorely as for Kriemhild, my wife.
995
“And now must God forgive me, that I a son did get
Whom folks shall taunt in future and let him not forget
That kin of his by some one was murderously slain.
If that avail’d,” said Siegfried, “right well might I complain.”
996
Yet once more spake the hero, in anguish nigh to death:
“If thou, O king most noble, art willing to hold faith
With any living being, I fain would now consign
Unto your grace and favour, that well-loved wife of mine.
997
“And let her from this profit, that thou her brother art:
If there is faith in princes, stand by her with true heart.
My father and my liegemen must tarry long for me;
Ne’er worse to any woman could loss of dear friend be.”
998
All round about, the flowers were wetted with his blood,
As now with Death he struggled: nor long the strife withstood.
Alas, the deadly weapon too well had done its part!
Then mote he speak no further, that warrior of
