Nor in the earth can hide me, whatever else I try.
Neither from the foeman to the waves can we be turning:
Now, in our lot so wretched, what best it is to do from me be learning.
“Good knights of mine, now hearken; there’s nothing left to do
But, to the ground alighting, their hot life’s-blood to hew
From out the ringed armor: fear not the word I’ve given.”
Then, from their saddles leaping, their horses back at once from them were driven.
“Now on, brave knights and warriors!” Hartmut called to all;
“To the castle-gates press nearer, whatever may befall.
I yet must meet old Wâ-te, whether I live or am dying;
To drive him from the gateway, and from the walls, I will at least be trying.”
Soon, with swords uplifted, rushing on were seen
The brave and youthful Hartmut, and with him all his men.
He fell upon grim Wâ-te, who met his coming gladly;
Now their sword-blades clattered, and many knights lay dead, or wounded badly.
When Wâ-te saw young Hartmut the onslaught on him make,
While Fru-te bore the banner, in wrath old Wâ-te spake:
“I hear the swords loud ringing of many pressing near us;
I beg, dear cousin Fru-te, let none come out from the gates; from that now spare us.”
Then Wâ-te, wild with anger, did on King Hartmut run;
But he, so brave and daring, the onset would not shun.
The sun with dust was darkened, now from the struggle rising:
Their strength was unabated; still for good name they fought, that both were prizing.
What helped it that of Wâ-te men said he was as strong
As six and twenty warriors? Though this was on each tongue,
Yet still to him young Hartmut his knightly skill was showing:
Howe’er his foe was striving, the Norman lord and his men no less were doing.
A knight he was most truly, and well indeed he fought;
Of the dead there lay a mountain whom on the field he smote.
It was, forsooth, a wonder that Hartmut had not yielded,
And died before old Wâ-te: grim was the wrath from which himself he shielded.
Soon heard he, loudly shrieking, old King Ludwig’s wife;
Sorely she was mourning the loss of her husband’s life.
She said she would reward him who felt his death past bearing,
And would Gudrun be slaying, with all the maids who there her lot were sharing.
Then ran a worthless fellow, to whom the fee was dear,
To where the Hegeling maidens sat together near.
Then the hearts of the women with many fears he loaded;
For the sake of gold to be given, to take their lives he now was sharply goaded.
When that Hilda’s daughter against her saw him bear
A sharp and naked weapon, she well indeed might fear,
And mourn that, far from kindred, she was thus forsaken.
Had not young Hartmut seen it, the knave her head from her would then have taken.
She so forgot her breeding that now she screamed aloud,
As if in dread of dying; great fear made wild her mood.
’Twas the same with all her maidens, there beside her seated,
From out the window gazing; the ladies such behavior ill befitted.
At once the sound of her wailing to Hartmut made her known;
And greatly did he wonder what made her scream and moan.
Soon he saw a ruffian whose sword was near to falling,
As if he meant to kill her. Loudly now to him ’gan Hartmut calling:
“Who are you, low-born dastard? For what reward or need
Do you affright these maidens, and seek to strike them dead?
If you shall strike one lady, I give you now this warning,
Your life shall quick be ended; your kinsmen too shall hang, this very morning.”
Back then sprang the rascal— his anger he did fear;
For now the youthful Hartmut held his life not dear,
When to the homeless maidens he his help was giving:
With care was he o’erladen, while from grim death to free them he was striving.
Quickly then came Ortrun, she of Norman lands,
The fair and youthful princess; in woe she wrung her hands.
She to Gudrun came nearer, the stately, high-born maiden,
And, at her feet down-falling, bewept her father’s death, with sorrow laden.
She said: “Most queenly lady, do not your tears forbear,
For all my many kinsmen who death together share.
Bethink you, if you also a father slain were weeping,
How you would feel, great princess. My father slain I mourn, in death now sleeping.
“Behold, most high-born maiden, my woe and bitter need;
How almost all my kinsmen lie, with my father, dead:
And now the knightly Hartmut is death from Wâ-te fearing.
If I should lose my brother, bereft of kindred, nought could life be cheering.
“Reward the love I’ve shown you,” said the Norman maid.
“Of all that saw your sorrow, when none a tear did shed,
I then alone was friendly, and had you in my keeping;
For all the wrongs they did you, I the livelong day for you was weeping.”
Queen Hilda’s daughter answered: “Thou wast indeed my friend;
But yet this strife so deadly I know not how to end.
Were I indeed a warrior, and knightly weapons wearing,
I’d stop the fighting gladly; and none to slay your brother then were daring.”
Ortrun was sorely weeping; she still the maid besought,
Until within the window Gudrun at length she brought,
Who with her hand then beckoned, and begged that it be told her
If from the land of her fathers knights had come who did in friendship hold her.
Then the knightly Herwic answer thus did make:
“Who are you, young maiden, who news from us do seek?
We are not the Hegelings, whom you see so near you;
We hither come from the Sealands. Tell us, maiden, how we now can cheer you?”
“This do I beseech you,” said the queenly maid:
“Sore has been the fighting; him will I thank, indeed,
Who now cuts short the struggle. Me will he be cheering
Who from the hands of Wâ-te will Hartmut free in the strife that I am fearing.”
Then asked the well-bred warrior who from the Sealands came:
“Tell me, worthy maiden, what may be your name?”
She said: “Gudrun they call me, of Hagen’s blood I own me;
Altho’ my birth was lofty, of late but little love has here been shown me.”
He said: “If you, fair lady, my dear Gudrun can be,
Then faithfully to help you gladness will give to me;
For I, in truth, am Herwic; you for my own I have chosen,
And fain am I to show you how you from bonds of sorrow I can loosen.”
She said: “If you would help me, my good and worthy knight,
I trust that you will grant me that what I ask is right:
To me these lovely maidens their prayers are ever making,
That from the fight with Wâ-te some friendly hand will Hartmut soon be taking.”
“That will I do right gladly, dearest lady mine.”
Then to his men young Herwic called
