Mischief they had done him, neither from fire and plunder had they rested.
“Listen, high-born maiden! my master’s bidding heed:
He and all his warriors are now in sorest need.
To lose both life and honor they are fearing daily;
And now my lord, King Herwic, sends to beg your men to his help to rally.”
Gudrun, the lovely maiden, then from her seat upstood;
The wrongs that had been done her she to her father showed:
She said her men were slaughtered, and her castles wasted,
And told her father, Hettel, that to ride to Herwic’s help she would he had hasted.
Then in her arms she pressed him, her eyes with weeping wet:
“Help, O dearest father! My woes are all too great,
Unless your many liegemen, with ready hand, are willing
To help my good friend Herwic: none else can end the strife, my sorrow healing.”
“That will I leave to no one,” the king did freely say;
“I will haste to help King Herwic, and wait not many a day.
As well as I am able, I will end your sorrow:
I will call for the aged Wâ-te and many other friends, before the morrow.
“He will bring from Sturmland all the men of his lands;
And when ’tis known by Morunc how ill with us it stands,
Fighters full a thousand to bring will he be speedy.
Our foes shall find out quickly, that under helmets we to march are ready.
“Horant, too, from Denmark shall bring upon the way
Of men full thrice a thousand: nor will Irold stay;
But he will raise his banner, and hasten to the slaughter.
Then, too, thy brother Ortwin will come, and all will earn the blessing of my daughter.”
The heralds soon went riding whom the maid did send.
Her friends far off were living, but all who help would lend
To heal the maiden’s sorrow would honor great be earning;
Knights would she warmly welcome: for this erelong the more to her were turning.
Hilda, the maiden’s mother, unto her daughter spake:
“Whoe’er is quick to help you, and now his shield shall take
To follow with your warriors when they to war are faring,
Whate’er we gain by fighting he shall, in truth, henceforth with us be sharing.”
Then the chests were opened; men to court soon bore
Whate’er therein was lying, of fighting-gear a store,
Fast with steel well studded; then the knights were laden
With armor white as silver: this made glad the heart of the queenly maiden.
To full a thousand warriors were given clothes and steeds;
Out of stalls men brought them, as oft the horse one leads,
When, along the highways, men to the fight go riding.
Of all the king’s good horses they left but very few at rest abiding.
When from his queenly lady the king his leave did take,
Both Hilda and her daughter began to weep for his sake;
But on the knights forth riding gladly they were gazing,
And said: “May God in heaven so help the fight that men may you be praising.”
After they all were gathered without the castle gate,
Youths were there heard singing, hoping for plunder great.
Each thought, by hardest fighting, to win himself much riches;
But far must they yet be riding, for long the way to their master’s foemen stretches.
On the third morning early came, at break of day,
The very aged Wâ-te with a thousand to the fray;
And from the Danish kingdom, as the seventh day was dawning,
Came Horant with four thousand, to whom the fair Gudrun had sent her warning.
From out the Waalisch marches Morunc thither rode;
He ever fought for the ladies, for the love to them he owed.
Twenty thousand warriors he brought—for nought he tarried:
These were all well-weaponed, and happily rode, while help to the king they carried.
The queenly maiden’s brother, Ortwin, the youthful knight,
Brought across the water, to help her in the fight,
Forty hundred warriors, or even a number greater:
Were it known to the men of Alzabie, well might they have feared to meet him later.
Before they yet could help him, to Herwic and his men
The strife had now gone badly, his luck began to wane:
To him and all his followers was evil sore betiding;
Altho’ they struggled bravely, his foes too near his castle gate were riding.
Great mishaps to Herwic from Siegfried’s kin arose;
For now the gates of the castle were shattered by their blows.
False friends had made it easy, and boasts too loudly spoken:
If e’er to such one trusteth, it worketh him no good, and his hopes are broken.
Now ’twas told to Herwic, men fast for help had gone.
The foes from fight ne’er rested, by anger driven on;
From early morn to even, they oft to the strife were bidden:
But now the friends of Herwic on every side drew near, nor long lay hidden.
When this the men of Karadie did learn, they well might fear
That now two kings against them in the fight should share:
For them it was unlucky that Hettel now was leading
His many fighters thither; he from afar had come, to Herwic speeding.
Friends were they to each other; so both would meet the foe.
These, the men from Moorland, bold themselves did show:
One saw by all their bearing they would from none be flying;
Those who with them struggled by hardest toil must their reward be buying.
Wâ-te, the very daring, with all his knights had come;
Gudrun, the lovely lady, had called him from his home
To help her lover, Herwic, and a host had ridden hither:
Whate’er might now befall them, later full happy rode they thence together.
Although their foes were heathen, from out the Moorish land,
They might not back be driven: one well might understand
That in any earthly kingdom they were the best and boldest.
To all who came to meet them they gave a sorry welcome and a shelter coldest.
Herwic, king of Sealand, his loss would now make good
Upon his foes from Alzabie. For this must flow the blood
On either side of many; to friends and kin were given
Wounds full fast and heavy: to bear his own was hard for Hettel even.
When they had come together of whom I spoke before,
Bringing all their followers, gladness they knew no more;
On them were ever resting heavy care and sorrow
For what the night might bring them. They thought: “How shall we live to see the morrow?”
Thrice with the Moorish foemen they strove on the stormy field,
While peace was given the castle, as knights are wont to yield.
Again with sword and spear-shaft they the strife would settle:
Peace not yet they wished for, but wounds the more they got in hard-fought battle.
Nor Herwic’s men nor Siegfried’s yet would leave the fight;
They to the last had struggled, and many a bravest knight
Upon the field lay wounded, or in death was sleeping.
This was told to the women, who now began a wild, unmeasured weeping.
How well the daring Wâ-te in
