The Nibelungenlied: The Lay of the Nibelungs (Oxford World's Classics) (22 page)

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clothes off his handsome body. They washed his wounds and laid him on the bier. His people were stricken with great grief then.

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Then Sivrit’s warriors from the land of the Nibelungs said: ‘Our hands shall always seek to avenge him. He who has done this must be in this castle.’ All Sivrit’s men then ran for their swords.

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Those excellent knights came up with their shields, eleven hundred warriors—those Lord Sigmunt had in his company. He would gladly have avenged his son’s death, as he had good reason to do. They didn’t

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know whom they should attack in battle then, unless it were Gunther and his men, with whom Lord Sivrit had ridden to the hunt. Kriemhilt saw them armed, which grieved her greatly. No matter how great was

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her sorrow and how deep her anguish, she was so sorely afraid that the Nibelungs would die at the hands of her brother’s men that she forestalled it. She warned them kindly, as friends do dear friends.

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The lady rich in sorrow said then: ‘My lord Sigmunt, what are you about? You are not aware that King Gunther has so many bold men here. You would all lose your lives if you were to attack those warriors!’

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Their helmets buckled on,
*
they were ready for the fray. The noble queen pleaded and commanded that the gallant warriors should refrain. When they would not abandon their purpose, it truly grieved her. She said: ‘Lord Sigmunt, you must put this off until a more fitting

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time—then I will always be willing, along with you, to avenge my husband. If I am informed who has taken him from me, I will be
sure to cause him harm. There are many haughty men here by the

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Rhine, which is why I will not advise you to do battle. They have a good thirty men for every one of ours. Now God grant that they fare as they have deserved by us! You must stay here and suffer these

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sorrows with me. When dawn begins to break, you most gallant heroes, help me put my dear husband into his coffin.’

Then the knights said: ‘That shall be done.’

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No one could tell you in full the marvel of how the knights and ladies were heard to mourn, so that the people in the city came to hear the cries of lament. The noble townsmen came hurrying up to the castle. They mourned along with the strangers, for they were heartily

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sorry. No one had told them anything of Sivrit’s guilt, nor why the noble warrior should have lost his life. The good townsmen’s wives wept together with the ladies.

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Smiths were ordered to make haste to fashion a coffin of silver and of gold, great in size and sturdy. They ordered it to be bound firmly with bars of good steel. All the people were very sad at heart.

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The night had passed. Dawn was about to come, they said. Then the noble lady ordered that Lord Sivrit, her dearest husband, be borne to the minster. All the friends he had there were seen to weep as they walked. When they took him to the minster, many bells rang out. On

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all sides the song of priests in great numbers was then to be heard. Then King Gunther with his men, and also grim Hagen, came to the lament.

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Gunther said: ‘Dearest sister, alas for your sorrows, and that we should have to suffer such a great loss! We must forever mourn Sivrit.’

‘You have no right to do so,’ said the wretched queen. ‘If you were

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sorry for it, then it wouldn’t have happened! You had forgotten about me, I now aver, when I and my dear husband were parted. Would God’, said Kriemhilt, ‘that I myself had been killed!’

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They denied it firmly. Kriemhilt declared: ‘Let he who is innocent have it be beheld! Let him approach the bier before all the people! The truth will soon be shown then.’

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This is a great marvel—it still happens many a time today. Whenever a marked murderer
*
is seen alongside a dead man, then the corpse’s wounds will bleed—as also happened there.
*
Thus Hagen’s guilt was beheld there. The wounds flowed as freely as they had done before.

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The numbers of those who had mourned there before grew even greater now.

Then King Gunther said: ‘I tell you the truth of the matter—it was ambushers who slew him. It was not Hagen who did this!’

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‘The ambushers’, said Kriemhilt, ‘are very well known to me. Now may God have Sivrit’s allies’ hands avenge it yet! Gunther and Hagen, it was you who did this!’

At that Sivrit’s warriors were bent on doing battle. Yet Kriemhilt spoke again: ‘Bear this anguish with me now.’

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Then Gernot, her brother, and young Giselher both came up to where they found Sivrit dead. In loyalty they mourned him, along with the others. They wept fervently over Kriemhilt’s husband.

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Mass was to be sung. All alike walked over to the minster, women, men, and children. Even those who were glad to be rid of him wept over Sivrit then.

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Gernot and Giselher said: ‘Sister mine, console yourself now after this death, as it cannot be otherwise. We will make amends to you for this as long as we live.’

Yet no one in this world could give her any consolation then.

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His coffin had been made ready about midday. They lifted him up from the bier on which he lay. The lady did not wish to have him buried yet. All the people were in great distress over this.

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They wound a rich phellel-silk about the corpse. I believe there was no one to be found there who was without tears. Uote, noble woman that she was, mourned from her heart, as did all her retinue, over his handsome person. When it was heard that they

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were singing at the minster and that he had been put in his coffin, a great throng arose. What offerings were then brought forth for the sake of his soul! Despite his enemies he had good friends in plenty there.

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Wretched Kriemhilt said to her chamberlains: ‘For my sake, let those suffer hardship
*
who wish him well at all and to whom I am dear. For the sake of Sivrit’s soul have his gold be shared out.’

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There was no child so small there with its wits about it who did not go to the offering. Before he was buried more than a hundred masses had been sung there that day. There was a great throng of Sivrit’s friends there. After the singing was over, the people departed. Then

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Lady Kriemhilt said: ‘You mustn’t leave me to watch alone over the excellent warrior tonight. All my joy has been cast down by his death.

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I will leave him where he is for three days and three nights, until my grief for my dearest husband is sated. What if God orders that
Death takes me also? Then my anguish, wretched Kriemhilt that I am, would be well ended.’

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The townsfolk went to their lodgings. She asked the priests and monks, and all of Sivrit’s retinue, to stay and watch over the hero. They had many hard nights and many harsh days. Many a man remained

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there, not eating nor drinking. Those who wished for food and drink were told that they would be given it in full. Lord Sigmunt saw to that. The Nibelungs grew acquainted with great hardship then.

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During those three days, so we hear tell, those there who could sing had to bear much hardship. What offerings were brought to them! Those who were very poor became rich enough.

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Such poor people as were found who could not afford it were told to go to make offerings with the gold from Sivrit’s own treasury. As he was to live no longer, many thousand marks were given for the sake of his soul. Kriemhilt shared out the revenue from taxes

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all over the lands, wherever monasteries and good people were to be found. Silver and clothing in plenty were given to the poor. She thus showed what goodwill she bore Sivrit. On the third morning,

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at the right time for mass, the broad churchyard next to the minster was full with the weeping countryfolk. They rendered him such service after his death as ought to be paid to dear friends.

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In those four days, so it has been said, thirty thousand marks or even more was given to the poor there for the sake of his soul. Thus his great beauty and his life were laid low. When God had been served

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there and the singing was over, many of the people wrestled with distress beyond measure. They ordered that he be carried out of the minster to the grave. Those who were loath to part with him were seen to weep and lament. Loud were the cries of the people as they

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walked alongside the corpse. No one was joyful there, neither women nor men. Before he was buried, there was singing and reading. Ah, what good priests were at his burial!

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Before Sivrit’s wife came to the grave, the loyal queen struggled with such wretchedness that she had to have water from the well poured over her there, time and again. Her spirits were low beyond measure. It was a great marvel that she ever survived. Many a lady helped her to mourn.

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Then the queen said: ‘You men of Sivrit, by your loyalty, have mercy on me! Let me, after this my sorrow, have this small pleasure: let me see his handsome head once more!’

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She pleaded for this so long in her mind’s great grief that they then had to break open the splendid coffin. Then they took the lady to where

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she found him lying. She lifted up his handsome head with her white hands. Then she kissed the noble, worthy knight, dead though he was. Out of sheer sorrow her lustrous eyes wept blood.

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Wretched was the parting that then took place there. They carried her away—she could not walk. She was then found senseless, that noble queen. That most beautiful lady might have died of sorrow.

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Now that they had buried the noble lord, all those who had come with him from the land of the Nibelungs were seen to grieve beyond measure. Seldom was Sigmunt found in good spirits then. There were

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several then who out of great grief neither ate nor drank for three days. Yet they could not so entirely renounce their bodily needs. After their sorrows they recovered, as plenty still do today.

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K
RIEMHILT
’ s father-in-law went to see her. He said to the queen: ‘We must go back to our land. We’re unwelcome guests, I believe, by the Rhine. Kriemhilt, dearest lady, come now to my lands. Though

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treachery has robbed us of your noble husband here in these lands, you must not pay the price for that. I will hold you dear for love of my son—be in no doubt of that. Moreover, lady, you shall keep all

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the power which Sivrit, that bold warrior, made known to you before. Let both the land and the crown be subject to you. All Sivrit’s men shall willingly serve you.’

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Then they told the squires that they were to ride off. With great haste they made for the horses then. It irked them to stay amid their fierce foes. They ordered the clothes for the ladies and maidens to be sought.

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Now that King Sigmunt was intent on riding off, Kriemhilt’s kinsfolk began to plead with her that she should stay there with her mother. The proud lady replied: ‘That could never be. How might I ever behold with my eyes that man by whom such great grief has befallen me, wretched woman that I am?’

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Young Giselher then said: ‘My dearest sister, you must in your loyalty stay here with your mother. As for those who have troubled
and grieved your mind, you’ve no need of their service. Live now at my expense alone.’

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She said to the warrior: ‘Indeed, that cannot happen. I would have to die of grief if I ever had to see Hagen.’

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‘I shall spare you that, my dearest sister. You must stay with your brother Giselher. Indeed, I will make amends to you for your husband’s death.’

The God-forsaken queen replied: ‘Kriemhilt would stand in dire need of that.’

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Now that young Giselher had made her such a kind offer, Uote and Gernot and her loyal kinsmen began to plead with her. They besought her to stay there. She had few kinsfolk among Sivrit’s men. ‘They are all strangers to you,’ said Gernot. ‘No one alive is

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so strong but he must die some day. Think on this, dear sister, and console yourself. Stay among your friends. It will truly be best for you.’

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She vowed to Giselher that she would remain there. The horses had been led up for Sigmunt’s men, now that they were intent on riding to the land of the Nibelungs, and all the warriors’ garments had also been loaded onto the packhorses. Lord Sigmunt then walked

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over to where Kriemhilt stood. He said to the lady: ‘Sivrit’s men are waiting for you by the horses. Let us ride now, for I am most unwilling to stay among the Burgundians.’

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Lady Kriemhilt replied: ‘My friends, all that I have who are loyal, counsel me to stay with them here. I have no kinsfolk in the land of the Nibelungs.’

It grieved Sigmunt greatly to hear this from Kriemhilt. King

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Sigmunt then said: ‘Let no one tell you that. You shall wear the crown and rule over all my kinsmen as powerfully as you did before. You shall not pay the price for our having lost the hero. For the

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sake of your baby, also, come back with us. You must not let it be an orphan, lady. When your son is fully grown he will console you. Meanwhile many a bold and worthy hero will be in your service.’

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She said: ‘Lord Sigmunt, indeed I cannot ride with you. No matter what happens to me, I must remain here among my kinsfolk, who will help me grieve.’

These tidings brought no pleasure then to the worthy warriors.

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They all said with one voice: ‘In that case, we might justly say that only now has suffering befallen us. If you were to want to stay among
our foes here, then never did heroes ride with greater anxiety away from a foreign court.’