V

"My friends, what toils beset us, you all well understand; So for the rose, ye warriors, take the good sword in hand, And for the cap of jewels the morion beaming bright.

Remember what fell Kriemhild devis'd but yesternight.

VI

"To-day must we do battle, so I bid you well beware; For the soft silken tunic the clashing hauberk wear, And for the sumptuous mantle the buckler stout and wide, That, when they rage against ye, the brunt you well may bide.

VII

"Give ear, my dearest masters, my kin and comrades too, Go to the church, and welcome, it fits you so to do, And wail to G.o.d in heaven your need, while you have breath, And know ye this for certain, that at our heels is death.

VIII

"Forget not then, moreover, if aught ye ill have done, And fervently for pardon pray, every mother's son; For this I warn you, warriors, nor hold these words for vain, Ne'er, but G.o.d show you mercy, ma.s.s will ye hear again."

IX

Then went they to the minster, the princes and their band.

Just at the holy churchyard bold Hagan bade them stand, And keep all well together, and thus bespake the crew.

"Who knows, to us Burgundians what yonder Huns may do?

X

"Take heed, my friends, your bucklers bring down before your feet, And, if a soul our party in hostile guise should greet, Requite him with a death-stroke; so seems to Hagan right, So doing, will each among us be found as fits a knight."

XI

Folker then and Hagan both together went And stood before the minster; 'twas done with this intent, That they might see if Kriemhild would stir the slumbering feud Pa.s.sing contemptuous by them; right stern were both of mood.

XII

And now came on King Etzel and eke his lady fair, Both, as their state befitted, in garments rich and rare, With crowds of knights all ready to do their high commands.

Uprose the dust to heaven from Kriemhild's trampling bands;

XIII

When the king, advancing, so arm'd to point espied The kings and their bold va.s.sals, how quick to them he cried, "What's this? my friends in armor marching thus along?

In sooth, 'twould sore afflict me if they have suffer'd wrong.

XIV

"Amends I'll make, and gladly, as shall to them seem right; If any have put on them affront or foul despite, I'll show them, that such outrage I also inly rue, And all that they demand me, I ready am to do."

XV

Then Hagan thus made answer, "Naught has to us been done; But my lords have a custom, till three whole days be run, When royal feasts they visit, their warlike arms to wear; All wrong that may be done us, to Etzel we'll declare."

XVI

Right well heard Lady Kriemhild what Trony's knight replied.

How bitterly the warrior under her lids she eyed!

Yet, though the truth well knowing as a Burgundian dame, She would not to her husband her country's use proclaim.

XVII

How deep soe'er and deadly the hate she bore her kin Still, had the truth by any disclos'd to Etzel been, He had at once prevented what afterward befell.

Through proud contemptuous courage they scorn'd their wrongs to tell.

XVIII

Then on went haughty Kriemhild girt with a mighty crowd, Yet swerve would not before her that pair of champions proud So much as e'en two hands'-breadth; that gall'd th' Hungarians sore.

Perforce they press'd and jostled with the warriors through the door.

XIX

The chamberlains of Etzel therewith were ill content; They had straight the haughty strangers defied as in they went; But that they fear'd to do so their monarch's eyes before; Pressing enough and jostling there was, but nothing more.

XX

When serv'd was G.o.d as fitted, and thence would every one, Straight into the saddle leapt many a warlike Hun; The while around fair Kriemhild many a bright maid was seen, And full seven thousand champions begirt the stately queen.

XXI

Queen Kriemhild and her ladies now at the windows sat With the wide-ruling Etzel; well pleas'd was he with that.

They would survey the tourney where knights their prowess show'd Ah! what stranger warriors in the court before them rode!

XXII

Thither too the marshal was with the yeomen come; The redoubted Dankwart had muster'd, all and some, The followers of his master, the flower of Rhenish ground.