The Lay of the Nibelung Men. Anonymous

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СКАЧАТЬ telleth the tale of a hero, how fair and stately he grew,

      How the shield of his heart was honour, nor taint of shame he knew,

      How shone the star of his glory, how strong was that fearless lord:—

      Ho for the harvest of honour that earth’s field gave to his sword!

      And his far-sung name was Siegfried, the name of a noble Knight;

      And he proved in his strength great-hearted full many a champion’s might,

      And through many a strange land cleft he a path by his own right hand:—

      Ho for the fiery warriors he found in Burgundia-land!

      (C) Or ever this valiant champion to man was fully grown,

      By deeds of such marvellous prowess had the might of his hands been shown

      That the minstrel’s voice and the harpstrings rang ever with his praise:

      Not a tithe thereof is remembered in these the latter days.

      But the noontide of his glory, but the spring of his goodlihead—

      How marvelled the world at his story, what things were of Siegfried said,

      How bloomed as a bower his honour, how goodly he was to behold,

      How dreamed of his love fair women, how their eyes the heart’s dream told!

      As beseems that a hero be fostered was he nurtured with diligent heed;

      But his own heart still was a wellspring of faith and of knightly deed,

      That by him was the land of his father as with gold of a diadem crowned,

      For in all the deeds of kingfolk all-kingly was he found.

      And by this so great was he waxen that to halls of kings must he fare:

      Glad-faced did the earls look on him, and dame and damsel there

      Sore longed to behold him wending thitherward evermore,

      And their eyes unto his shone welcome, and he knew the love they bore.

      Ever that child of princes rode girt by a henchman-ring,

      And in lovely-woven raiment of his mother’s fashioning;

      And the wise and the lessoned in honour must teach him their lore, as one

      For whom there waited a kingdom and a nation’s heart to be won.

      So waxed he to strength of manhood, till sword and shield he swayed,

      And in goodliest harness of battle were his mighty limbs arrayed.

      Then his thoughts after fair dream-faces of maids flew questing wide—

      And O for the bliss and the honour of her that should be his bride!

      Then sent King Siegmund the bidding-word to his vassals all,

      And to all friends loyal-hearted, for a high-tide festival;

      And the tale thereof into kingdoms of other lords they bare

      With gifts for the friend and the stranger, even steeds and raiment fair.

      Wheresoever a strong young warrior high-born longed sore for the day

      That should bring to him knighthood’s golden spurs, all such bade they

      To come to the land of Siegmund, to Siegfried’s festal tide,

      To be girt with the sword of knighthood, standing by Siegfried’s side.

      Long shall men sing of the wonder of that crown of festal days,

      How Siegmund and Siegelind won them the treasure-giver’s praise

      For the gifts of cost uncounted that they gave with stintless hand,

      How the rumour thereof drew strangers from afar into Siegmund’s land.

      Came thither squires four hundred in knighthood’s vesture to be

      Arrayed with the young prince Siegfried; and maidens comely to see

      Sat fashioning goodly raiment, and their love with the threads was enwound,

      As they laid the priceless gemstones thereon with the gold set round,

      As their broidery-work on the robe-hems gleamed fair in coil on coil

      For the strong young knights high-hearted—they were worthy the love-sped toil.

      And the King bade dight the high-seats for the guests, for the thanes of pride,

      At the feast of the knighting of Siegfried in the heart of the summer-tide.

      Then fared they on to the minster, young squires of high degree

      And noble knights full many; and in proud humility

      Did the elder serve the younger, by the law that from old time came.

      On their lips was mirth and laughter, in their eyes the hope of fame.

      When they chanted the Mass to the honour of God in the highest height,

      The mighty throngs surged inward to gaze on that gallant sight,

      When after the ancient custom those squires with spur and brand

      Were arrayed, and with honour never since seen in any land.

      Then hasted they where harnessed were the steeds abiding their lords:

      Then rose in the lists of Siegmund the clash of spears and swords:

      Then the halls of the palace re-echoed, as in joyous combat they crashed,

      When the mighty-hearted champions forth to the onset flashed.

      From old knight and young warrior the clash and the clang rose high:

      The splintered spear-shafts flying leapt up to the laughing sky,

      The shards of the lances upsoaring to the roof of the palace-hall.

      And the earls and the high-born ladies sat throned beholding all.

      Then the King bade stay the combat, and they led the war-steeds thence,

      From the field wide-strewn with the strong shields, the brave heart’s rifted fence,

      Strewn with the costly gemstones wherewith was the grass bestarred

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