them for spoil of this sword of mine!”
Then the King was exceeding astonied, amazed did the earl-folk stand,
As they hearkened to that strange challenge, to the champion’s haughty demand,
As he claimed for his victory-guerdon the people and land of their lord;
And as flame burst forth their anger to hear that arrogant word.
“Nay, how should it be for mine honour,” answered the King thereto,
“If I staked the realm that my father ruled nobly his whole life through
On a combat’s issue, to lose it or hold it by bodily might?
Sooth, this were a sorry maintaining of the name and the fame of a knight!”
“Nay, nought I abate of my challenge,” that aweless champion cried;
“If the peace of thy land safe warded by the strength of thine arm abide,
Now from thy grasp will I wrest it; and mine heritage withal,
If thou win it by battle-prowess, shall be held of thee in thrall.
Let thou and I stake straightway our land and throne and crown;
And whichsoever in combat shall strike the other down,
Unto him shall all be subject, the lands of twain and the folk.”
Then against it Hagen the mighty and Gernot the valiant spoke.
“Of a surety not so are we minded,” spake Gernot proudly and high,
“That for winning of new possessions should any good knights die
In the strife of warring heroes: lo, fair our heritage is,
And of right is it ours; and no man hath claim more righteous to this.”
In burning indignation there stood they, the friends of the King;
And the Lord of Metz, Knight Ortwein, stepped forth from the warrior-ring,
Crying, “Out upon these soft answers! My very heart have they wrung!
Lo, a causeless challenge Siegfried the strong at you all hath flung!
Though thou and thy brothers before him were standing with none to aid,
Though he brought a kingdom’s army against thee, my King, arrayed,
Yet would I maintain, I only, thy right against yon foe:
I would still his malapert vaunting, I would bring his high heart low!”
Outflamed the wrath of the hero, the lord of the Nether Land:
“Not against me may be measured the might of thy low-born hand!
I am the heir to a kingdom, a king’s mere vassal thou;
Yet twelve such as thou should vainly withstand me in battle, I trow!”
Then the Lord of Metz, Knight Ortwein, cried hotly, “Bring me a sword!”—
True son was he of the sister of Hagen Troneg’s lord!—
Sore vexed was the King that Hagen so long should silent stand.
Then for peace yet again spake Gernot, bold-hearted and ready of hand:
“Now nay, rein in thine anger”—with Ortwein so did he plead—
“Not yet hath the noble Siegfried done us any despiteful deed.
For kindness and reconciling still all my counsel is,
And for winning of his friendship: yea, more for our honour were this.”
At the last spake Hagen the stalwart: “There were reason enow for our wrath
And the good knights’ indignation, if he rode on the Rhineward path
For nought but for this defiance—what ailed him to do this thing?
Never so evil-entreated had he been of our lord the King.”
Then Siegfried the mighty hero flashed out all scornfully:
“If that I have said, Lord Hagen, in aught misliketh thee,
I will let it be seen of all men how ready is this mine hand
To maintain my words to the utmost in the face of Burgundia-land.”
“Nay, this thing, I trust, shall I hinder,” spake Gernot yet again;
And he gave command to be silent unto all his mighty men,
Howsoever they chafed, from saying one word that should chafe their guest.
Mid the hush flew a peace-dove, a vision of Kriemhild, to Siegfried’s breast.
“For what cause should we battle against thee?” yet again did Gernot cry:
“Yea, though a host of the good knights in the grapple of fight should die,
Small honour were ours, small profit were thine, of such strife unmeet!”
Yet again did the son of Siegmund, Siegfried, his challenge repeat:
“Why linger they, Hagen and Ortwein?—why hang they yet aback,
They and their friends, their champions, from the storm of the battle-wrack?
And of all Burgundia’s chosen is none to the combat stirred?”
But they heeded Gernot’s counsel, and they answered him not a word.
“Our guest shalt thou be full welcome,” the young lad Giselher cried,
“Thou and thy valiant champions which wait hereby at thy side.
We will joyfully do thee service, even all these friends of mine.”
Then they cried to the cupbearers, “Pour ye for the guests of King Gunther the wine!”
Spake the lord of the land yet further, “Lo, all that was ours hitherto,
Is yours, so in honour ye ask it; we will hold back nought from you.
Yea, ye shall with us be partners in our goods and our very blood!”
Then soft grew the eyes of Siegfried, and melted his angry mood.
Then they took from the warriors their war-gear, and heedfully laid it by;
And they sought for them stately chambers, and lodged them royally:
Yea, even Siegfried’s henchmen were housed in noble wise.
And in Burgundy nought met Siegfried thereafter save welcoming eyes.
All rendered to him high worship and honour day by day,
Yea, a thousandfold more richly than minstrel’s tongue may say.
All this was his valour’s guerdon—no marvel that so it should be,
For the hero was passing winsome, and sweet were his eyes to see.
Whensoever the kings and their vassals in knightly pastime strove,
Evermore was Siegfried the foremost, howsoever his strength they might prove.
There was none that with Siegfried could match him, so passing great was his might,
Or in hurling the massy rock-shard, or in speeding the lance’s flight.
In presence of high-born ladies full oft was their prowess tried,
And proved was the strength of the valiant before the lovely-eyed;
And the Netherland’s knight found favour still with the passing-fair: