Your kingly master’s wishes both I and Lady Hilda are wroth at hearing.”
One among them answered: “Hartmut makes it known
That much he loves the maiden; and if to wear the crown
In Normandy she deigneth, before his friends there living,
That he, a knight all spotless, will rightly earn the love she shall be giving.”
Then quoth the Lady Hilda: “How can she be his wife?
A hundred and three of his castles his father held in fief,
Within the land of Cardigan, from Hagen, my noble sire;
It ill becomes my kinsmen to be King Ludwig’s vassals, or owe him hire.
“Ludwig dwelt in Scotland, and there it erst befell
That a brother of King Otto did wrong to Ludwig deal:
Both were Hagen’s vassals, and of him their lands had taken;
And thus my father’s friendship for him was lost, and hate instead did waken.
“Say you now to Hartmut she ne’er his wife shall be.
Your lord is not so worthy that he to boast is free,
That he doth love my daughter, and she doth not disdain him;
Bid him elsewhere be looking, if he be fain a queen for his land to gain him.”
The heralds’ hearts were heavy; ’twas not for their good name
That they, for miles full many, in sorrow and in shame,
Back to their homes in Normandy this news must carry sadly.
Hartmut, as well as Ludwig, was vexed that they herein were foiled so badly.
Forthwith to them said Hartmut: “Tell me now the truth,
The grand-daughter of Hagen have you seen, forsooth?
Is the maid, Gudrun, as lovely as men have here been saying?
May God bring shame to Hettel, that he my suit with such ill-will is paying!”
Then the earl thus answered: “This can I truly say—
Whoe’er shall see the maiden must feel her charms and sway;
Above all maids and women, her worth is past the telling.”
Then quoth the kingly Hartmut: “To live without her ne’er shall I be willing.”
Whereon his mother, Gerlind, sadly thus did say,
With tears her lot bewailing: “My son, oh, lack-a-day!
Alas that e’er the heralds to win the maiden started!
If we at home had kept them, e’en to this day had I been still light-hearted.”
Tale XI
How Herwic Sent to Seek Gudrun and How Hartmut Came Himself
Herwic, king of Sealand, sends suitors for the hand of Gudrun, who are also rejected. Hartmut of Normandy comes to woo her in person, and is kindly received by her; she, however, begs him, if he values his life, to leave the court. He returns to Normandy, resolved to win her by force.
Hartmut left his wooing to wait for many a year.
Soon a tale was bruited (’twas true what men did hear)
Of one whose name was Herwic, a king as yet but youthful;
Often his worth was spoken, and men yet speak of him with praises truthful.
He began his wooing, trusting the lovely maid
Would take him for her lover; long his hopes he fed,
And much he toiled to win her, both with love and riches:
But though the maid was willing, her father, Hettel, he in vain beseeches.
Though Herwic long was striving, and men to seek her rode,
Yet was his wooing slighted; for this his wrath he showed.
The heart of proud young Herwic by heavy care was fettered;
Freely his love he gave her, and thought a life with her could not be bettered.
There came at length a morning when it to them befell
That in the Hegeling kingdom both knights and maids as well,
With many lovely ladies, his coming never fearing,
Before them saw bold Hartmut; Hettel could not believe he’d be so daring.
From this did endless evil soon come upon the land:
These guests high-born and worthy were yet an unknown band;
Hartmut and his kinsmen their host’s goodwill were sharing,
And he the hope still harbored that the maid would yet the crown with him be wearing.
Now before Queen Hilda by ladies he was seen
To stand with lofty breeding, and with a stately mien.
There the proud young Hartmut wore a look so knightly,
That he the love of ladies well might ask, and ’twould be granted rightly.
Well-grown was he in body, fair he was and bold,
Kind as well as lordly. Why I ne’er was told
Had Hettel and Queen Hilda from him withheld their daughter,
When he had thought to woo her; wroth was he to be scorned when now he sought her.
Of her his heart had longed for he now had gained the sight;
There oft were stolen glances between Gudrun and the knight.
He made it known to the maiden, by speech from others hidden,
That he was young King Hartmut, and from the Norman land had lately ridden.
Then she told her wooer the pain to her it gave;
And though she wished he ever a happy life might have,
Yet from her father’s kingdom she begged him now to hasten,
For in the land of Hettel was his life at risk, and this would never lessen.
She looked on him so kindly that now her heart was warned
That he should stay no longer, for here his suit was spurned.
Friendly was she to Hartmut, who her love so wanted,
But his hopes she little heeded, and while he wooed, not much to him she granted.
At last her well-bred lover from Hettel’s land must go;
He bore upon his shoulders a heavy load of woe:
To wreak his wrath on Hettel would he now be choosing,
Yet feared he, if he harmed him, that he the maiden’s love would then be losing.
’Twas thus the daring Hartmut the Hegeling kingdom left;
Much he felt of sadness, though not of hope bereft.
He knew not yet the ending of his wooing of the maiden;
For the sake of her, thereafter, were helmets cleft, and many sorrow-laden.
When he had reached his kingdom, and home again did turn,
Where dwelt his father and mother, Hartmut, grim and stern,
For war with Hettel longing, began to make him ready.
Gerlind, the old she-devil, at all times spurred him on with hatred steady.
Tale XII
How Herwic Made War on Hettel, and How Gudrun Was Betrothed to Him
Herwic, being forbidden by Hettel to woo his daughter, invades his kingdom, and, after a battle, Gudrun, with Hettel’s consent, is betrothed to him.
What more befell young Hartmut we now forbear to say.
Upon the brave King Herwic a weight of sorrow lay,
As great as that of Hartmut, for love of the high-born lady.
He, with all his kinsmen, to woo Gudrun, as best they might, made ready.
Near her he was dwelling, and there he held his land.
A thousand times though daily he should send to ask her hand,
Ever would his wooing be met with scorn and flouting;
But though
