The songs that you this evening have made to us so dear.
Truly it were blissful every day, at even,
To hear from you such singing; for this would great reward to you be given.”
“Since you your thanks, fair lady, have thus on me bestowed,
Every day will I gladly sing you a song as good;
And whoso listens rightly shall find his pains departed,
His cares shall all be lessened, and he henceforth will feel himself light-hearted.”
When he his word had given, forthwith he left the queen.
Great reward in Ireland did his singing win;
Never in his birthland had such to him been meted.
Thus did the knight from Denmark give his help to Hettel, as him befitted.
Soon as the night was ended, with the early dawn of day,
Horant raised his carol; the birds soon stopped their lay,
And to his song they listened, while in hedges hidden.
The folk who yet were sleeping rested no more, by his sweet tones upbidden.
Horant’s song rose softly, higher and yet more sweet;
King Hagen also heard it, while near his wife was his seat.
From out their inner chamber drawn to the roof, they waited;
Their guest of this had warning; and Hilda the young gave ear, where she was seated.
The daughter of wild Hagen with her maids around her heard
From where they sat and listened; and now each little bird
Wholly forgot his singing, and in the courtyard lighted;
The warriors hearkened also, and well the song of the Danish minstrel greeted.
Thanks to him were given by women and by men;
“But,” said the Danish Fru-te, “would that I ne’er again
Such songs might hear him singing. Whom would he be pleasing?
To whom is my witless nephew such worthless morning-hymns so bent on raising?”
Then spake King Hagen’s liegemen: “My lord, let him be heard;
There’s none so sick is lying but would in truth be cheered,
If to the songs he listened which fall from him so sweetly.”
Said Hagen: “Would to Heaven such skill to sing were mine; ’twould glad me greatly.”
When the knightly minstrel three songs to the end had sung,
No one there who heard him thought they were too long,
The turn of a hand, not longer, they had thought it lasted,
E’en if they had listened while for a thousand miles a horseman hasted.
When his song he ended, and to leave his seat was seen,
The youthful, queenly maiden more blithe had never been,
Nor decked, at early morning, in gayer clothes or better;
Forthwith the high-born lady sent to beg her father now to meet her.
Then came her father quickly, and on the maiden looked,
While, in a mood of sadness, her father’s chin she stroked;
With her hand she coaxed him, to make her word the stronger,
And said: “My dearest father, bid that he at court may sing yet longer.”
He answered: “Best loved daughter, if again, at the hour of eve,
His songs he deigns to sing you, a thousand pounds I’ll give.
But now a mien so lofty these guests of ours are wearing,
To us ’tis not so pleasant here, at court, to give his songs a hearing.”
However much she pressed him, would the king no longer stay;
Then strove again young Horant, and never on any day,
Had his knightly song been better. Sick and well together
All lost their wits in hearing, and none could leave who to listen once came hither.
The wild beasts in the forest let their pasture grow;
The little worms that creeping through grass are wont to go,
The fishes, too, that ever amidst the waves were swimming,
All now stopped to listen; the singer’s heart with pride was overbrimming.
Whatever he might sing to them, to no one seemed it long;
Ill vied with his song the choral which by priests is sung.
Even the bells no longer rang as of yore so sweetly;
Every one who heard him was moved by Horant’s song, and saddened greatly.
Then begged the lovely maiden that he to her be brought;
Without her father’s knowledge, she slyly this besought.
From her mother, Hilda, also must the tale be hidden
That unto her, in her bower, unknown to all, the minstrel had been bidden.
It was a yielding chamberlain who did the wages gain,
That, for his help, she gave him; red gold it was, I ween.
Glittering and heavy, with armlets twelve, full-weighted.
’Twas thus within her bower the maid, at eventide, the singer greeted.
By hidden ways he did it; Horant was glad indeed
That such goodwill and kindness, at court, had been his meed.
To win her love for his master from far had he been faring;
To his tuneful skill he owed it that she such friendly will to him was bearing.
She bade her faithful chamberlain to stand before the house;
That so there might be no one who could the threshold cross
Until the songs were ended, soon heard with praises truthful.
None went into her bower but Horant only and Morunc the youthful.
She bade the bard be seated: “Now sing to me once more,”
Thus spake the high-born maiden, “those songs I heard before.
For this I feel sore craving; than aught beside ’tis sweeter
Unto your lays to listen; than any gem or pastime ’tis far better.”
“If I might dare to sing to you, most fair and lovely maid,
And never need be fearful for this to lose my head,
Thro’ your father’s anger, never will I falter
In any wise to serve you, if in my master’s land you’ll seek a shelter.”
He then began a ditty of a mermaid of Amilé,
Which never man nor Christian had learned to sing or say,
Although he may have heard it on some wild, unknown water.
In this the good knight, Horant, gave honor meet at court to Hagen’s daughter.
At last, when he the love-song had sung unto the end,
Then said the lovely maiden: “Thanks I give, my friend.”
She drew a ring from her finger, nought of gold were fairer,
And said: “I give it gladly; be this of my goodwill to you the bearer.”
Now her word she pledged him, and with it gave her hand:
“Should she of a crown be wearer, and ever sway the land,
That ne’er by the hand of any need he be further driven
Than unto her in her castle; there to live in honor would leave be given.”
Of all she pressed upon him nothing would he take
Unless indeed a girdle. He said: “Let no man speak,
And say that I the maiden e’er for myself was wooing;
I will to my master bring her, and for this his heart shall be with bliss o’erflowing.”
She asked: “Who is thy master? By name how is he known?
Have e’er his liegemen crowned him? And any lands doth he own?
For love of thee, most truly, goodwill I bear him ever.”
The knight from Denmark answered: “A king so rich and mighty saw I never.”
He said: “To none
