of the Saxons, withal!
O noble Daughter of Princes, not yet have I told thee all;
For behold, these twain were captive taken by Siegfried’s hand.
Never so many war-thralls have come into this our land
As now his valour haleth hitherward unto the Rhine.”
—More welcome words had she hearkened never, ye well may divine—
“Five hundred barons unwounded, nay more, be hitherward led,
O Queen, and of men sore stricken in fight, yea, well-nigh dead,
Full fourscore blood-stained litters come softly through the land;
And of these were the more part smitten by dauntless Siegfried’s hand.
They whose pride overweening challenged the Lords of Rhine to the war
Now captives of King Gunther by sore constraint they are.
With joy to thy land that goodly prey do our warriors hale.”
Then flushed into rose the lily at the telling of that tale.
Yea, over her lovely visage for rapture the roses burned
That out of the imminent peril alive and whole had returned
Her knight, her winsome Siegfried, of the young, heart-conquering eyes—
Yea, she rejoiced for her kinsfolk withal in sisterly wise.
Then spake that Queen of Beauty: “Glad tidings to me hast thou brought.
I will give thee for thy guerdon bright raiment richly wrought;
And my treasurer shall count thee withal ten marks of gold.”
He is happy of whom such tidings unto noble dames be told!
They gave him for his guerdon the gold and the costly array.
Many a lovely maiden from her casement leaned that day,
And gazed o’er the city highway, and saw go riding by
Many a thane high-hearted of the land of Burgundy.
First rode the knights unwounded, then the train of the stricken came—
Well might these hearken the greeting of friends with nought of shame!
And the King rode forth glad-hearted to meet them, kinsman and guest:
From all his care in rejoicing his soul had gotten rest.
Then greeted he well his kinsfolk, and hailed each stranger knight,
As for kings of men so mighty is ever meet and right
With thanks and with lovingkindness to meet men faring back
From plucking the flower of glory from the field of the battle-wrack.
Now touching his friends and his kinsmen King Gunther questioneth,
Even who in the highways of battle had been stricken unto death:
And behold, in heroes fourscore the tale of their slain is told!—
But the brave dead none bewaileth, and so hath it been from of old.
Yea, even the knights unwounded brought many a sword-hacked shield,
And many a rifted helmet, home from that stricken field.
And the riders sprang from their horses at the gates of the hall of the King;
And with shouts of salutation did the very heavens ring.
Fair harbourage unto the good knights they gave that city through;
And the King commanded to honour his guests with tendance due;
And they bound up the hurts of the wounded, and with diligent heed did they tend:
Yea, that knightly King was gracious unto foe no less than friend.
Then unto Lüdegast spake he: “Welcome to me be thou!
Through thy misdeed to my kingdom hath mischief been wrought enow,
For the which thou must make atonement, if this may be compassed of me.
God look on my friends and reward them: right well have they holpen me!”
“Well mayst thou thank thine helpers,” spake Lüdiger answering:
“In sooth such high-born captives had never earthly king!
And now for knightly warding we tender thee goodly fee,
And pray thee for gracious dealing with them that were foes unto thee.”
“Unto both of you freedom from fetters,” he answered, “will I accord,
So all which have fought against me abide here still in ward:
And for this shall ye give me pledges that none shall leave my land,
Except as I give them licence.” To the covenant gave they the hand.
Then they led to their rest the weary, where all things ready were made.
Full soon upon easeful couches were the wounded warriors laid.
And they poured for the knights unwounded bright wine and mead good store:
Never in mirth and joyance were hearts uplifted more.
The bucklers battle-riven took they, and they laid them by,
And saddles blood-empurpled might one see plenteously;
But these caused they to be hidden, lest women should weep at the sight:—
Ah, the sun went down that even upon many a wayworn knight!
“Give kindliest entertainment to my guests,” did the King command:—
With the native-born and with strangers now thronged was all the land:—
He took thought for the heedful tendance of each sore-wounded foe:
Ha, how was their haughty defiance in humility brought low!
Whosoever were cunning in leechcraft, rich guerdon their skill repaid,
Bright gold unstinted and silver outlavished, yea, unweighed,
So they would but heal those heroes who had gotten hurt in the war.
And with gifts the King still loaded his guests that came from far.
And whoso of these was minded homeward to turn again,
As one should entreat a dear friend, so prayed they him to remain.
Nor forgat the King his liegemen, but devised for them rich reward,
Even all whose labour of glory had accomplished the will of their lord.
Then spake Prince Gernot his counsel: “Let our guests depart as now:
And in forty days—proclaim it, and to all men publish it thou—
Unto a festal high-tide shall all return once more;
For healed by then shall be many that now lie wounded sore.”
Then made his request Prince Siegfried: “I pray you, let me depart.”
But when to the Rhine-lord Gernot was known the desire of his heart,
He besought him in loving fashion for a season to tarry still:—
Sooth, but for the love of his sister, he had swayed him not to his will!
To a prince so royal might no man for his measureless desert
Proffer