Tale VIII: How Hagen Followed His Daughter

When the day was dawning, there was seen full well,And known by Horant of Daneland, a cross upon a sail,With other emblems blazoned, that pilgrims did betoken.For such a band of pilgrims in Wâ-te’s heart was little love bespoken.

Loudly Morunc shouted to Irold brave and true:“Now ask our lord, King Hettel, what he thinks to do?A sail with the arms of Hagen comes to our shore too nearly:Too long have we been sleeping, and well to be rid of this will cost us dearly.”

To Hettel the tale was carried that the father of his bride,Hither from Ireland sailing, with ships broad-built and wideAs well as many a galley, now their shore was nearing.From Wâ-te and from Fru-te their wisest thoughts the king was bent on hearing.

Both those knights of Denmark could hardly this believe,Had not their eyes beheld it, that Hagen, with followers brave,Seeking his daughter Hilda, to the river Waal was steering.The men who came from Ortland lay happy on the beach, no danger fearing.

The fair and noble Hilda soon heard the wondrous tale,Whereat the kindly maiden did loudly thus bewail:“My father, if he comes hither, soon will make such slaughter,That none e’er knew the sorrow that will be felt by many a wife and daughter.”

“We ’gainst that can guard us,” answered the knight Irold:“However he may bluster, I would not take of goldA mountain’s weight in barter, that day when foes are mated,Could I see my uncle Wâ-te near wild Hagen come, with anger heated.”

Then the lovely maidens began to wail and mourn.The ship was tossed and rolling, now by the west wind borne,With warriors filled and crowded, near to Waal, the river.They there, in heavy fighting, soon found a blood-stained resting-place forever.

Wâ-te bade that Hilda on board a ship should stay.To guard the queenly maiden, while near the shore it lay,On every side all hastily men their shields were bearing:To keep a watch o’er the ladies, there were on board a hundred warriors daring.

Ready now for battle were all who to the strandHad brought the lovely Hilda from her Irish fatherland,Whence they the maid had stolen, to her father Hagen’s sorrow.Many, sound and healthy, must sorely fear for their lives before the morrow.

Hettel was soon heard shouting and calling aloud to his men:“Be on your guard, brave fighters! Who never gold did gain,To him it shall be measured, in handfuls, without weighing.Let this be not forgotten,— that now your Irish foes you may be slaying.”

Bearing then their weapons, down they rushed to the sand;Stirred with warlike bustle was all the Waalisch strand.Thither to King Hettel flocked his champions daring;Friends as well as foemen soon towards the self-same spot were faring.

Now had Hagen also reached the sandy shore,And men at him were hurling the spears they bravely bore:Those upon the seashore well their lives then guardedFrom the stormy Irish onset; but wounds yet all the more their bravery rewarded.

How seldom would a father have wished to send his childWhere sparks of fire, all-glowing, were struck by foemen wildForth from hardened helmets, in sight of many a maiden!To have sailed with these roving fighters did now at last the lovely Hilda sadden.

By turns they smote each other with heavy spears and long:Altho’ themselves they guarded beneath their bucklers strong,Yet wounded thro’ their hauberks, they were gashed and bloody;And soon with flowing life-blood the waters’ depths were deeply stained and ruddy.

Then to his trusty liegemen Hagen called aloud:The sea gave back his shouting,— truly his strength was good,—He bade them help to land him, their wounds by them unheeded;Glad were they to do it: thereby were spears in many hearts imbedded.

Hagen now drew nearer, not far was he from the sand;His sword it clattered loudly; Hettel, near at hand,Was standing by the water, on the seashore waiting:There, with daring followers, deeds he did that praise should aye be meeting.

Hagen, wild with anger, leaped into the wave,And to the shore he waded. Then on that warrior braveCame a shower of lances; like snowflakes falling thickly,Fast they fell around him, shot by the Hegeling foemen, thronging quickly.

Then from the clash of sword-blades a mighty noise arose.Those who would slay wild Hagen soon beneath his blowsWere seen to reel and stagger. Hettel, the noble fighter,Drew near to Hilda’s father; at this the maiden wept, with tears most bitter.

It was indeed a wonder, as we the tale have heard,So strong and brave was Hagen, that Hettel, the Hegeling lord,Before him held his footing. As soon as, wildly fighting,They had reached each other, their helmets rang beneath the heavy smiting.

But not so quickly ended was yet the stormy fight.Soon was Hettel wounded by brave King Hagen’s might:Wâ-te the old of Sturmland, with his kin, to Hettel hasted,With Irold, too, and Morunc,— knights as good as foemen’s lands e’er wasted.

Now came the brave old Fru-te and Wâ-te with his throng:Knights there were a thousand,— the press of them was strong.Hettel’s Hegeling kinsmen, well their weapons plying,Wounded many foemen; on every side stretched low, the men were lying.

After bravest fighting, now had reached the landThe followers of Hagen; then crowded to the sand,After his friends so faithful, a host from Ireland’s borders.Soon were helmets shattered: grimly they fought to win the maids from their warders.

Hagen saw then near him Hettel, the youthful knight:Many strong and stalwart were shorn of strength outright,Both by those from Daneland and the Hegeling lieges:Now to meet wild Hagen every one old Wâ-te loud beseeches.

Then, by his strength, King Hagen broke thro’ the crowd a path,And with his sword hewed boldly; well he wreaked his wrath,Because his much-loved daughter from him by craft was taken;Coats of mail lay fallen: the wrongs of Hagen hate in him did waken.

He might not quench his anger with the sword alone;By the thrust of his heavy long-spear soon were overthrownMany a knight most daring: never the tale was givenBy these unto their kinsmen, of how in the stormy fight their luck had thriven.

Now came Wâ-te quickly, the knight well born and good;Soon of his well-loved kinsmen he saw the flowing blood,Under the slash of broadswords, out of their armor dripping:Of those who would have helped him, five hundred wounded men in death were sleeping.

Everywhere were gathered friends as well as foes,All in uproar minged; a mighty din arose.Wâ-te and wild Hagen rushed on each other madly,Whoe’er could shun their pathway of all the risk he had fled was thinking gladly.

Hagen laid on Wâ-te many a heavy blow,—Well his strength he wielded. Their helmets were aglowWith fiery sparks outflashing,— like to brands they glittered;Each cleft the other’s helmet, and ever still, each other’s blows they bettered.

The ground beneath was trembling with aged Wâ-te’s stroke:Scarcely could the maidens of his onslaught shun the shock.Now the wounds of Hettel his faithful friends were binding;He then began to ask them where his cousin Wâ-te he could be finding.

With Hagen, “of kings the Devil,” he found old Wâ-te soon:The skill of him of Sturmland to guard himself was shown:Brave were both these warriors, and oft the tale was spokenHow Wâ-te the bold and Hagen in hardest strife had each his anger wroken.

Hagen’s spear was broken erelong on Wâ-te’s shield:Well in the fight he bore it, and strength enough did wield.Ne’er on the field of warfare did blows of men fall thicker,Even of bravest warriors; Wâ-te scorned to flinch, or seem the worker.

Hagen cleft the head-piece of Hettel’s brave old man,The trusty, daring Wâ-te, till blood from his helmet ran,From out his wounds fast flowing. Now the wind blew colder,For eventide was nearing; the struggling throng in fight but grew the bolder.

Wâ-te gave back in anger each grim and deadly blow,Making the blood, like tear-drops, on Hagen’s breast to flow;Strokes he gave his foeman, until the sword-blade glitteredOn the bosses of his helmet; daylight before his darkened eyesight flittered.

Wounded, too, was Irold, Ortland’s champion brave.Though many there lay dying from the wounds that Hagen gave,Yet the blows of Wâ-te still did Hagen batter.Sorely wept the maidens when of so many swords they heard the clatter.

Now, in fear and sorrow, Hilda, the maiden fair,Cried unto King Hettel, and begged of him to spareHer father from old Wâ-te, the fight so grimly waging.He called for his standard-bearer, and bade him lead his men where the strife was raging.

Then the kingly Hettel right well and bravely fought;Soon he found old Wâ-te, to whom no joy it brought:Then Hettel called to Hagen: “Let hatred hence be driven;So shall it raise your honor, if now our friends no more to death be given.”

Hagen shouted loudly,— fell indeed was his mood,—“Who bids that we be parted?” Then cried the warrior good:“I bid it, I, King Hettel, the Hegelings’ lord and master,Who for the Lady Hilda sent my friends so far, from you to wrest her.”

Then spake the lordly Hagen: “Since first to me ’twas toldHow you to win my daughter showed yourself so bold,This to your name with warriors shame has ne’er been doing;Clever was the cunning to which your winning of my child is owing.”

Hettel then sprang nearer, as oft by one is done,Who thinks to stop the fighting. Grim was the mood yet shownBy the bold and aged Wâ-te; but he and Hagen yielded:Then with all his followers Hagen stepped back, nor longer his weapon wielded.

Now the lordly Hettel his helmet laid aside;A truce was loudly called for by all, both far and wide;’Twas said by Hilda’s father there was an end of fighting:For many a day, the maidens had heard no tale their ears so much delighting.

The men took off the armor which they in fight had worn,And now at last they rested. Many then must mournFor wounds, in warfare given, whence the blood was welling;But many lay there also who never more on thoughts of war were dwelling.

Then stepped forth King Hettel and near to Hagen stood,And thus he spake to the warrior: “Since I well have wooedYour lovely daughter Hilda, ’tis fit that you allow herTo wear the crown beside me: my many well-bred knights will fealty show her.”

Then Hettel sent for Wâ-te, of whom he was in need;For many years now ended, of him it had been saidThat he from some wild woman had learned a leech’s cunning:Wâ-te, forsooth, was skilful to heal deep wounds and stanch the life-blood running.

Wâ-te laid by his weapons; his wounds he first had bound.Herbs that were good for healing by him were quickly found;He had a box full costly, that in it held a plaster.Now the fair Queen Hilda besought his help, and at his feet she cast her.

She said, “My dear friend Wâ-te, my father heal, I pray;For this, whate’er you ask me, I ne’er will say you nay;And help his warriors also, who in the dust lie bleeding,And show your skill to his liegemen who stood by him, when he their help was needing.

“Nor must you be forgetful of those of the Hegeling land,Who were friends to Hettel; wet with their blood is the sandOn which they now are lying, as if a rain were falling:Sorrowful tales of their fighting for me there ne’er can be an end of telling.”

Then spake the aged Wâ-te: “Their wounds I cannot heal,—In that I will not meddle, until as friends they feelEach unto the other,— Hagen brave and knightly,And Hettel, my lord and master; till then shall I withhold my skill most rightly.”

The high-born maiden answered: “This I may not dareTo ask of the king, my father; his tears I did not spare,And now have not the boldness to bring to him my greeting;Both he and all his kinsmen I fear would now my love with scorn be meeting.”

Then ’twas asked of Hagen: “My lord, may this now be,That it would not stir your anger your daughter here to see,The youthful, queenly Hilda? If you for this are willing,She will come most gladly, and soon your many wounds will help in healing.”

“Gladly will I see her, whatever she has done;To me will she be welcome: why should I her disown,Here in a land of foemen, nor take her greeting kindly?To me and to my daughter, King Hettel must atone for deeds unfriendly.”

Horant, the knight from Daneland, led her by the hand,And with him went brave Fru-te, to where the king did stand;One maiden only with them looked on Hagen wounded.For friends did Hilda sorrow, though Hettel’s love for her was all unbounded.

On Hildeburg and Hilda when Hagen now did look,Then, from his seat upspringing, thus he quickly spoke:“Welcome be thou, my daughter, Hilda, most noble lady!I cannot leave unspoken the greeting warm which I to give am ready.”

His daughter he allowed not the care of his wounds to take;While Wâ-te these was binding he bade the maids step back,—The youthful high-born ladies. Wâ-te’s wish was the strongerTo heal her father quickly, that so his daughter there might weep no longer.

Healed with plants and herbage and many a far-sought weed,From all his pain did Hagen feel himself now freed;They eased his hurts with plaster, and when again the maidenTurned to see her father, she found him well, with aches no longer laden.

Wâ-te, the healing-master, made haste,—no time he lost;He hoped to gain such riches among this wounded host,That scarce could they by camels be carried to his dwelling.A skill so great and wondrous never, that I have heard, have men been telling.

First he healed King Hettel, the lord of the Hegeling land;Then all he saw there wounded he helped by his skilful hand.Those in the care of others still with pain did sicken;But they, when nursed by Wâ-te, were turned to life, tho’ they by death were stricken.

There would they no longer let the maidens stay.Hagen said to Hilda: “Elsewhere must we to-dayFind us rest and shelter; while others must not idlyLeave the dead thus lying, who burial scarce can wait, here scattered widely.”

Hettel begged King Hagen with him to his home to go;Though loath, to this he yielded, as soon as he came to knowThat he, the king of the Hegelings, of many lands was owner:Hagen then with his daughter went with him to his home, and there had honor.

The youthful knights were singing, as they left the field.Happy then were the living; but, never to be healed,They behind were leaving three hundred dead and dying,The rich and poor together, slashed with the sword, and pitifully lying.

Then the war-worn fighters through the land went home;All who there were dwelling were blithe to see them come:But the kinsmen of the warriors who in death lay sleepingWere slow their hearts to gladden; they for kindred slain long time were weeping.

Hettel and Hilda with him took their homeward way.Many, bereft of fathers, sorely wept that day,Whose after life was happy. The mighty Hettel laterCrowned the fair young Hilda; by this the Hegeling name became the greater.

Hettel now had thriven,— his suit he well did gain.Old and young together with swords at court were seen,As were the guests of Hagen who from the ships came kindly.The wedding of his daughter was highly praised by Hagen, now grown friendly.

Then with what great honor to the bridal seat was ledThat high-born, lovely lady! Moreover, it is saidThat full five hundred liegemen then at court were knighted.Fru-te the wise from Denmark to guard King Hettel’s wealth was thought well fitted.

The riches of King Hettel by Hagen now were seen;The tale had erst been told him by many of Hettel’s kin,That over seven princedoms well his sway had thriven.All the poor there with them were home in gladness sent, and lodgings given.

Hettel gave rich clothing to Ireland’s warriors brave;Bright-red gold and silver, and horses, too, he gave.The whole they scarce could carry, as they homeward wended:Thus good friends he won him, and this for Hilda in highest praises ended.

Upon the twelfth day’s morning they left King Hettel’s land.The horses bred in Denmark led they out on the sand;Each his mane, thick hanging, down to his hoofs was shaking.The guests from afar were happy that they King Hettel’s friendship had been making.

Grooms and also stewards with Hagen then did ride,With cup-bearers and carvers. Ne’er, in his greatest pride,In his home and kingdom, had he been served so truly.The crown was worn by Hilda, and Hagen’s heart with bliss was brimming fully.

Food as well as lodgings they found upon their road;On Hagen and his followers all men their care bestowed:So to their homes most gladly they the tale did carryOf how the friends of Hettel in showing them all kindness ne’er were weary.

Hagen greeted Hildeburg, and clasped her in his arms;He said, “Watch over Hilda for the love your bosom warms.So great a throng of followers at times a woman dazes;Care for her so kindly that of your worth all men shall speak with praises.”

“My lord, that will I gladly: to you has much been toldOf the woes that with her mother I bore in days of old;And I for years my friendship for her did never loosen;Her for miles I followed ere for a lover you by her were chosen.”

Hagen bade the others their way to court to take;Never then could the maidens an end of weeping make:Now by the hand he took them, and to Hettel they were given;He asked for them his kindness, since from their homes they sadly had been riven.

Then said he to his daughter: “So well the crown now wear,That neither I nor your mother the tale shall ever hearThat men ill-will do bear you. High your lot has raised you,And you of blame were worthy, if when men spoke your name they never praised you.”

Low bowed to the king wild Hagen, and kissed his child again.Neither by him nor his followers ever more was seenThe kingdom of the Hegeling: too far away was their dwelling.Back to his home in Ballian, in his trusty ships, King Hagen soon was sailing.

When he had reached his castle, and sat with the queen alone,The mother of fair Hilda, Hagen was free to ownThat none to win his daughter more fitly could have pleaded;And if he had yet others, he fain to the Hegeling land would send them to be wedded.

Hilda for this gave praises to her master, Christ the Lord:“That I of my dear daughter such happy news have heardFills my heart with gladness, and with bliss o’erflowing.How fares it with her followers, and Hildeburg, who long her love was showing?”

Then spake the kingly Hagen: “Now in their land and homeAll of them are happy; great hath our child become;Ne’er, with us, were her maidens clothed in such fine dresses.There we now must leave them: for her were many breastplates hacked to pieces.”