To her the she-wolf answered; “That I do not fear;
Now to the shore betake you, or weal or woe to bear.
If you be slow in washing, my wrath may you be dreading;
E’en if you die, what care I?” At this the hopeless maids more tears were shedding.
Taking then the clothing, they went to the water’s brink:
“Of this,” said Gudrun, “God willing, I will make you think.”
Then, in the cold, barefooted, through the snow they waded;
The very high-born maidens, forsaken in their woe, were worn and faded.
Down to the beach they plodded, as was their wont before,
Bearing the clothing with them to the bleak and sandy shore.
They once more were standing, over the washing stooping;
Ever they were thinking of their sorry plight, and sadly were they hoping.
Often now, and earnestly, over the watery waste,
While they toiled and sorrowed, longing looks they cast;
Still of those now dreaming sent by the queen to free them,
Who o’er the sea were sailing. The high-born maidens hoped erelong to see them.
Tale XXV
How Herwic and Ortwin Found Gudrun
Herwic and Ortwin, coming in a boat, see the maidens washing on the shore, recognize them, and make themselves known. Thinking it dishonorable to take the maids away without winning them in fight, the knights return to bring their army. The maidens go back to Gerlind, and, feeling sure of her speedy rescue, Gudrun pretends to agree to Hartmut’s suit, and is restored to favor.
After they long had waited, now saw these washers lone
Two in a boat fast nearing; others were there none.
Then said the maiden, Hildeburg, unto Gudrun, the lady:
“These two are sailing hither; perhaps the friends sent here are come already.”
She, full of sorrow, answered: “Ah, woe is me, poor maid!
Although, in truth I’m happy, I yet am also sad.
If at the seaside washing Queen Hilda’s men shall see us,
Standing thus barefooted, we from the shame of this can never free us.
“A poor, unhappy woman, I know not what to do:
Hildeburg, my dearest, your mind now let me know;
To hide me were it better, or shall I stay to shame me
When they shall find me toiling? Rather would I that they a drudge should name me.”
Then said the maiden Hildeburg: “E’en how it stands you see;
A thing that is so weighty you should not leave to me,
Whate’er you think the better, your choice will I be sharing;
With you I’ll stay forever, both good, and ill together with you bearing.”
Then from the water turning, both fled away in haste;
But now the boat of the sailors had neared the land so fast,
They saw the lovely washers, away from the seashore hieing,
And at once bethought them that they for shame away from the clothes were flying.
They called unto the maidens, as they sprang upon the beach:
“Whither so fast are you fleeing, fair washers, we beseech?
We are far-off wanderers, as well our looks are showing;
Your linen may be stolen, if you leave it here, and from us in haste are going.”
They kept their way still swiftly, as if they heard it not:
But yet the boisterous shouting had reached their ears, I wot.
The bold and knightly Herwic too roughly bade them hear him,
For he not yet mistrusted ’twas his betrothed that now he saw so near him.
Cried Herwic, lord of Sealand: “Maidens fair and young,
Tell us now, we pray you, to whom these clothes belong.
We ask you in all honor, by the faith to maidens owing,
Most fair and lovely ladies, that back to the shore you will again be going.”
Gudrun, the maid, then answered: “It were a shame, forsooth,
Since to the trust of woman you give your pledge in truth,
Were I of this unworthy, nor faith in you were showing:
To the shore we back will hasten, although my eyes with tears are overflowing.”
They, in their smocks, came nearer; both with the sea were wet.
Before that time, the maidens were always clean and neat;
Now the wretched drudges with cold and frost were quaking;
Little of late had they eaten, and with the March-like winds were chilled and shaking.
The time had come already for snows to melt away,
And, with each other vying, the little birds, each day,
Again their songs would warble, as soon as March was ended;
But in the snow, and ice-cold, the maids were found forlorn, and unbefriended.
Stiff were their locks and frosted, when they now drew near;
However well and carefully they had smoothed their hair,
It now was tossed and tumbled by the wind so wildly blowing:
Hard bestead were the maidens, toiling there, whether it rained or was snowing.
The ice was loose and broken, floating everywhere
Upon the sea before them. The maids were filled with care;
Pale were now their bodies, e’en as the snow around them,
By their scanty clothes scarce hidden. Sad was the lot in which the knights had found them.
Then the high-born Herwic a kind “Good-morning” bade
To the sad and homeless maidens; of this sore need they had,
For oft their keeper, Gerlind, had them with harshness taunted.
To hear “Good-morning,” “Good-evening,” was now to the maids but very seldom granted.
Then said the youthful Ortwin: “I beg you say to me
To whom belongs this clothing, that on the sands I see?
For whom are you here washing? You both are so comely showing,
Who can this shame have done you? May God bring low the man such outrage doing!
“So fair are you and lovely, you well might wear the crown;
If all that is your birthright you now could call your own,
You would, in truth, be worthy to be with ladies seated.
Has he for whom you are toiling more such washers fair so foully treated?”
To him the lovely maiden in greatest sorrow spoke:
“Many he hath beside us who fairer still do look.
All that you list now ask us; yet, with eye unsleeping,
One from the leads doth watch us, who ne’er will forgive the talk with you we’re keeping.”
“Be not at this uneasy, but deign our gold to take,
And with it these four arm-bands. These your reward we make,
If you, most lovely ladies, of speech will not be wary;
To you we give them gladly, if of the truth we seek you be not chary.”
“God leave to you your arm-bands, albeit you we thank;
Nought for hire may you give us,” quoth the lady high in rank.
“Ask what you will, but quickly, for we must hence be going;
If we were seen here with you, nothing but sorrow should we then be knowing.”
“We beg you first to tell us who this land doth own?
Whose are the castles also? By what name is he known
Who leaves you without clothing, low tasks upon
