Tale XXIV: How Their Coming Was Made Known to Gudrun

Of them we speak no longer; we now will let you hearYet more about the maidens: how hope their lot did cheerWho on a far-off seashore must wearily toil at washing:Gu-drun and Hildeburg must wash all day on the sands where waves were dashing.

’Twas the time of spring-tide fasting, and at the noon of day.To them a swan came floating; thereat Gu-drun ’gan say:“O bird so fair and lovely, such pain for me thou art feeling,That now thou hither speedest from a far-off land, across the water sailing.”

Then to her in answer spake the friendly swan,Although a God-sent angel, in speech most like a man:“Words from God I bring you; if you for this be seeking,Tidings I give of your kindred; of these, most high-born maid, would I be speaking.”

When the lovely maiden his speech so wondrous heard,Scarce could she believe it, that thus an untamed bird,Now, within her hearing, in tones like these had spoken.While to him she listened, it seemed that his words from the mouth of a man had broken.

Then said the bird-like angel: “Hopeful you now may be,Homeless, sorrowing maiden; gladness shall come to thee.If you would hear of your birth-land, listen while I tell you;From there I bring you tidings, for God hath sent me, of your woes to heal you.”

At this, Gu-drun, the fair one, upon the sands down fell;Crossing her arms, the maiden her lowly prayers did tell.Then she said to Hildeburg: “God hath us in his keeping,And help to us has granted; we now no more shall sorrow know, nor weeping.”

To the bird then said the maiden: “Christ has sent thee hereTo us, poor homeless maidens, our heavy hearts to cheer;Good and trusted harbinger, tidings tell yet other:Is now Queen Hilda living? Of poor Gu-drun is she the much-loved mother.”

The Heaven-sent bird thus answered: “This can I say to thee;Hilda, thy queenly mother, in health did I lately see.To search for thee already her warriors she has banded;Such throngs no kin or widow, seeking for friends, on foeman’s shore e’er landed.”

Then spake the high-born maiden: “Good tidings thou dost bear:Be thou with me not weary, still more I fain would hear.Lives yet my brother Ortwin, as king in Ortland dwelling,And Herwic, my betrothéd? ’Twould gladden me could’st thou this news be telling.”

The bird-like angel answered: “That can I gladly tell;Herwic and young King Ortwin are both alive and well.Upon the swelling billows, that rose and sank unending,I saw those knightly sailors; each with even stroke to his oar was bending.”

She said: “This tell me also, if ’tis known to thee,Whether Morunc and Irold are now upon the sea,And hither come to seek me; the truth I fain would gather.Gladly I would see them, for they are kin to Hettel, who was my father.”

To her the bird thus answered: “That can I tell you, too;Morunc, and with him Irold, I saw, in search of you.They to this land are coming; their help will soon be givenTo fight for you, fair lady, and many a helmet will by them be riven.”

Then spake the winged angel: “I bid you now farewell,And leave you in God’s keeping, for work awaits me still.I overstay my errand to linger here, yet speaking.”Then from their sight he faded, and left the maidens’ hearts well-nigh to breaking.

Then said Hilda’s daughter: “My sorrows none can know;Much that I wished to ask thee, now must I forego.For the sake of Christ, I beg thee, ere thou alone dost leave me,Poor and wretched maiden, that freedom from my woes thou yet wilt give me.”

Before her eyes he floated, and once again he spake:“Ere yet we two are parted, and hence my way I take,If I in aught can help you, of that I will not weary,And, since through Christ you ask it, to tell you of your kin will longer tarry.”

She said: “I fain were hearing, if thou the truth hast learned,If Horant, lord of Denmark, his way has hither turned,And with him leads his kinsmen? They leave me here forsaken.Knowing him brave and daring, I would my lonely lot his care might waken.”

“From Denmark sailing hither, Horant, your kinsman, comes;He to war is leading his followers from their homes.The banner of Queen Hilda aloft in his hand he is bearing;’Tis thus the Hegeling warriors now the Norman Hartmut’s land are nearing.”

Gu-drun then asked him further: “This would I also hear:Lives Wâ-te still of Sturmland? If so, no more I fear.We all might then be happy, if thou could’st this be telling,—That under the flag of my mother he and the aged Fru-te are hither sailing.”

To her the angel answered: “Hither comes in hasteWâ-te the old from Sturmland. He in his hand holds fastThe strong and guiding rudder, and Fru-te’s ship is steering.Truer friends or better you ne’er need wish their swords for you were bearing.”

Once more the bird was ready upon his way to go;Then said the wretched maiden: “I still am full of woe;And now to know am longing— if life such bliss can lend me—When I, poor homeless maiden, shall see my mother’s knights, whom she doth send me.”

The angel answered quickly: “Your happiness is near;To-morrow morning early, will two brave knights be here.Both are true and upright, and falsehood ne’er will tell you;Whatever news they bring you you well may trust, and never will it fail you.”

At last the heavenly angel hence in truth must go:From him the homeless maidens sought no more to know.In mind they ever wavered, ’twixt hope and fear still tossing;Where their helpers lingered they could not know, yet trust were never losing.

Lazily and slowly they washed the livelong day;Of knights sent there by Hilda, who now were on their wayFrom over the Hegeling border, busily they chatted:Gu-drun’s good, faithful kinsmen were by the long-lost maids uneasily awaited.

Each day must have its ending; to the castle now must goThe weary, homesick maidens. They there must harshness knowFrom evil-minded Gerlind, who their lives still harrowed;A day went by but seldom that she scolded them not, nor still their bondage narrowed.

Thus she spoke to the maidens: “Who gave the word to youThat you might wash so slowly my clothes and linen, too?All the things I gave you must be quickly whitened;’Twere best that you be careful, you else shall weep, and for your lives be frightened.”

Then answered her young Hildeburg: “Our work we ever mind;Truly you ought, fair lady, to be to us more kind.We oft are almost freezing, with water o’er us splashing;If only the winds were warmer, we might for you far better then be washing.”

Grimly answered Gerlind, and roughly them did twit:“Whatever be the weather, my work you may not slight.Early must you be washing, nor rest till night be knowing;To-morrow morn, at daybreak, you from my room must down to the beach be going.

“I ween you know already that Holytide is near;Palm-Sunday soon is coming, and guests will then be here:If to ill-washed clothing my knights shall then be treated,Never in kingly castle to those who washed have woes like yours been meted.”

Then the maidens left her; they laid aside, all wet,The clothing they were wearing— they better care should get.All they had known of kindness for them no longer lasted,And soon for this they sorrowed, for bread and water now was all they tasted.

Now the downcast maidens for sleep had sought their bed;But this was not the softest, and each one, in her need,A dirty shirt was wearing. Thus was Gerlind showingHer care and kindness for them, on benches hard a pillow ne’er bestowing.

Never Gu-drun, poor maiden, on a harder bed had lain;All were tired with watching till day should dawn again.They had but broken slumber; I ween, they oft bethought themHow soon the knights were coming, of whom the angel-bird the news had brought them.

Soon as the morning lightened, Hildeburg the good,Erst from Galicia stolen, at the window gazing stood;All night she slept but little, but on her bed lay tossing.She saw that snow had fallen, and hope the heart-sick maid was wellnigh losing.

Then spake the hapless maiden: “To wash we now must go.Should God not change the weather, and we, in storm and snow,To-day must stand a-washing, before the evening comethWe, all chilled and barefoot, shall dead be found, while us the cold benumbeth.”

By hope they yet were gladdened, e’en as they well might be,That those sent out by Hilda they ere night should see.When the lovely maidens upon this thought were dwelling,It made them now more happy, and lighter was the pain their hearts were feeling.

Then said Hilda’s daughter: “My friend, you should beseechThe stern, ill-minded Gerlind, that on the pebbly beachShoes she will allow us; she may herself be learningThat if we go there barefoot we soon shall freeze, and there our death be earning.”

The maidens then went seeking King Ludwig and his queen.He, in sleep held fondly, in Gerlind’s arms was seen;Both were sunk in slumber, and the maids, their anger fearing,Dared not them to waken: erelong Gu-drun yet greater woe was bearing.

The weeping of the maidens by the sleeping queen was heard,Who quick began to chide them with many a surly word:“Why, you heedless maidens, are you not to the seashore going,There to wash my clothing, and rinse them with clean water o’er them flowing?”

Then said Gu-drun, in sorrow: “I know not where to go,For in the night has fallen a deep and heavy snow.That we by death be stricken unless you now are willing,Do not send us washing; to stand without our shoes will us be killing.”

To her the she-wolf answered; “That I do not fear;Now to the shore betake you, or weal or woe to bear.If you be slow in washing, my wrath may you be dreading;E’en if you die, what care I?” At this the hopeless maids more tears were shedding.

Taking then the clothing, they went to the water’s brink:“Of this,” said Gu-drun, “God willing, I will make you think.”Then, in the cold, barefooted, through the snow they waded;The very high-born maidens, forsaken in their woe, were worn and faded.

Down to the beach they plodded, as was their wont before,Bearing the clothing with them to the bleak and sandy shore.They once more were standing, over the washing stooping;Ever they were thinking of their sorry plight, and sadly were they hoping.

Often now, and earnestly, over the watery waste,While they toiled and sorrowed, longing looks they cast;Still of those now dreaming sent by the queen to free them,Who o’er the sea were sailing. The high-born maidens hoped erelong to see them.