and renowned valour depart from the land. He that was the light of Pannonia, the proud warrior Walter, is fled, and has carried off with him my beloved Hiltegund."

The King is full of anger, grief, and consternation; and, for that day and night, appears to be too much disconcerted with his misfortune to know what course to pursue. The next morning he assembles and addresses his Senate-" who will bring me back the runaway Walter, chained like a misbehaved hound? I will clothe him in pure gold, I will heap lands upon him, nor stint though I stop his way with tons of gold!"-But in all the empire was neither Prince nor Duke, Count nor warrior, nor armour-bearer, gladly as he would have shown his prowess in the field, to win lasting renown and treasures too by his achievements, that would dare to overtake the hero with arms; for they had seen the slaughter he made, and how he always stood invulnerable in the fight. So that the king was not able to persuade any one on such perilous conditions to earn the tons of gold which he proffered.

Meanwhile Walter fled: and, as was observed, he journeyed by night, and when day came sought the thickets and woods. With cunning he enticed the birds, catching them now with bird-lime, now with springes. When he came where a stream ran in windings, he threw in his line. All the time of his flight Walter, the honourable hero, behaved himself full of modesty and virtue towards his maiden. Forty times had the sun brought back day to the world since he left the Pannonian city, when he came at evening to the bank of the river Rhine, which holds its course onward towards the royal capital, Worms. He gave there instead of money for his passage, the fish he had taken, and hastened forwards. With daybreak the ferryman sought the city, carrying to the King's head-cook the fish he had received for his fare. They were richly served up. The King was in admiration when he beheld them. "Never," said he, "did my France yield me such fish as these are. Methinks they are surely from another land. Who brought them?"-On the report of the head-cook the ferryman is sent for, who, on being questioned, answers," I sat yesterday evening by the Rhine-strand, and saw that one journeying came armed from head to foot, as he that expecteth some fight. He came all iron, renowned King, and whither he went, he bears his broad shield and his naked lance with him. He seemed like a man of prowess; though he bore a heavy load, he strode with mighty steps. A damsel follows him, adorned with incredible beauty, treading fast on the heels of the youth, and leading by the bridle a gallant steed, that on his back bears two chests nothing small. As oft as the proud beast shakes his lofty mane, and throws forward his supple limbs, they give out a sound, as if gold and jewels struck together. This stranger gave me for my hire the fish of which you demand me."

Hagano, who sat at meat with the King, could not for a moment be deceived on hearing this report. "Rejoice with me," he cries, "I know well who it is. My fellow-captive Walter returns home from the Huns."-The whole court rejoices.-But King Gunther has other thoughts in his head.-"Rejoice with me," he cries, "that I have lived to this fortune. That treasure which Gibicho my father sent to the eastern King, the Heavenly Ruler sends me back." Crying thus aloud, he pushes the table from him with his foot, and springs up:

commands to bring out his war-horse, and to cover him with the carved saddle. He seeks among the whole people twelve men stark of strength, and of tried courage. Hagano inust be of their company. But mindful of ancient faith and of his former comrade, Hagano strives hard to dissuade the king, his lord, from his purpose. The unfortunate King will listen to no remonstrance, and they go forth from the town.

In the mean time the courageous man journeys forward from the river into the Wasgau, as it was then, says the poet, and is still called. Here a boundless forest extends: the haunt of wild beasts, and often resounding with hound and horn. In the midst of the desert rise two contiguous bills: between them winds inward a very narrow but a pleasant cavern, not shaped in the hollow earth, but by the meeting of the overhanging rocks,-a convenient retreat for blood-thirsty robbers. It was now grown over with the green matting of grass. The youth scarce saw it ere he exclaimed, “Here let us enter. Here in this lair is it good to give the weary body to rest." Since he had made his escape from the Avars had he tasted no sleep, save resting on his shield, and scarce trusting to close his eyes. But now for once he laid aside his warlike burden, and sunk on the lap of the maid, saying to her, “Look, Hiltegund, watchfully around thee. And when thou seest a dark cloud ascend, then gently touch me, to give me the signal to arise. And shouldst thou behold even the mightiest host, yet beware thee beloved, to call me suddenly from sleep. From this place canst thou stretch thy keen sight far into the distance.” With that he closed his lightsome eyes, and tasted long the oft-wished-for sleep.

Gunther and his companions come, Hagano still warning them, but still in vain.

When Hiltegund from the ascent of the hill saw the dust rising, and might hear the distant sound of the coming, she gently touches Walter to awaken him. The youth rises, leisurely arms himself, and then, leaping, hews into the empty air, as a prelude to the grateful

a fight. The maiden sees the sparkling lances draw near, and believing that they are overtaken by the Huns, kneels down, and begs her betrothed, since she must not share his bed, to take her life, that she may suffer no other embrace. “Shall I stain myself,” said the youth, “with innocent blood ? How shall my sword destroy my foes, if it spare not my so beloved friend ? Fear not. He who has saved me in so many perils, has power to save me now.” He then lifted

up

his eyes, and cried, “ Not Huns are here, but those knaves the Franks, the dwellers of the land. And,” cried he, laughing, as he distinguished Hagano's helmet,“ see, there is Hagano too, my old comrade in arms." With these words he places himself at the entrance of his retreat, and says to the lady, "Hear a proud word which I now speak. From this place no Frank returns to boast with his wife, that he has borne away aught with impunity of this rich treasure." Scarce had he said it, when he fell to the earth, and implored forgiveness of the words he had spoken.-On rising, he regards every thing more attentively, and says that he fears only Hagano of all that he sees: for he knows his manner of fighting, and is himself a practised warrior: yet he hopes with God's help to vanquish him too, and then, Hiltegund, my bride, then am I thine.”

When Hagano beheld Walter, he again addressed himself to the King, urging him before any act of violence, to send one to inquire of the stranger his name and race. It was possible he might be willing to yield up his treasure without bloodshed. If it was indeed Walter, he would," as a wise soldier, for the sake of honour, be willing to concede to the King." The King sends forward Camelo, who had been set as Burgrave over Metz by the Franks, and who had arrived but the day before at the court, bringing presents. He demands of Walter who he is,-whence and whither he journeys. Walter, in reply, desires to know whether he speaks of himself, or under authority of another. Camelo replies with proud lips, "Know that King Gunther, who rules over this land, has sent me to inquire into thy matters." The youth makes answer, I know not in truth what need there is to inquire into a traveller's affairs. But I do not shun to declare mine. My name is Walter. Aquitaine gave me birth. I was delivered young by my father to the Huns, as a hostage. With them have I lived. These left I lately from desire to see with delight my dear native land, and my gracious people." Camelo requires of him, on the King's part, his treasure, his steed, and his maiden; assuring him, that on his quiet compliance, he shall be injured neither in life nor limb. "Is thy King a God," answers Walter, "to be the giver of life? What! has he laid the strength of his arm upon me?-Has he cast me into his dungeon?-Has he bound my hands behind my back?” Nevertheless, for honour to the King's name, he offers him, if he will suffer him to go peaceably on his way, a hundred bracelets of precious metal. The ambassador returns, and Hagano is very earnest with the King to agree to the proposal. "Take the tendered jewels, and adorn with them those who accompany thee, father! Give up a strife in which thou canst not conquer!" He then adds the warning of a vision of the preceding night, in which he had beheld the King contending with a bear, which, after a long conflict, he saw rend up his leg to the knee, and to the hip, and which, when he himself came to his aid, flung itself upon him, and with its teeth tore out his eyes. Gunther vehemently upbraids Hagano with cowardice, like that, as he says, of his father Agathias (a name for which it seems difficult to conjecture a German origin). The hero in great anger refuses all participation in the violence they are about to commit, and retires to a neighbouring hill, where he dismounts and sits down to await as a spectator the issue of the combat. And this brings us to the middle of the second canto.

From this place to nearly the end of the third is occupied in disposing of the King's eleven knights, who proceed, one after another, against Walter, and are killed nearly as fast as they come up. The reason why they do not all fall upon him together does not appear to be any point of honour upon the subject among themselves, or any predilection on the part of the monarch for single combats, but simply, that the nature of the ground where Walter had posted himself, did not admit the attack of more than one combatant at a time. The detail of the eleven successive combats is minute, and to such minds as are now left to read the celebration of ancient prowess, something tedious: the more so, in virtue of certain speeches on both sides, of some length, all of which are, nevertheless, sufficiently opposite and magnanimous. Each encounter is varied, however, with circumstances which give the appearance of painting from nature, and which, to hear

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ers versed in the proceedings it describes, may have made this a very agreeable part of the poem. The delineation is strong and characteristic; and to the student of the manners and spirit of ancient times, it will prove even interesting. The recital of the names and condi. tions, as far as these are declared, of the said knights, will probably satisfy the curiosity of most readers concerning them.

The first is the said Camelo. The next Kimo, a brother's son of Camelo, by some called also Scaramund. The third, Wurhard, a descendant of the ancient Pandarus, who is correctly mentioned by our author as having broken off the treaty of the Trojans and Greeks, by the first arrow-shot. Wurhard, like his great ancestor, excels, and fights, as an archer. The fourth, Ekevrid, is from the Saxon plains. He is taunted by Walter, rather unaccountably, with his Celtic accent, showing him to belong to that race which nature has gifted, above all others, with the talent of jesting. Hadwart follows, a warrior who, from pride of courage, wore no armour. Patavrid, sister's son to Hagano, is the sixth. The combat with him is not without interest. Hagano first, and then Walter, on understanding their relationship, endeavour in vain to dissuade him from the unequal strife. Gerwith, whom Worms honoured as Count of the Wasgau, comes to avenge, and shares his fate. Randolf, the champion, is killed, eighth. Helmnod, otherwise Eleuther, ninth.--(Is this a Greek translation of a German agnomen?)-Trogunt and Thanast, the tenth and eleventh, are put to death rather in an intermingled way, and finish this act of the tragedy.

There is, as we have observed, sufficient character and variety in this series of bloody encounters. They are not, to our mind, poetical; but the stern and savage detail gives the temper of times, in which minds, otherwise generous, are hardened by the habitual exertion of their single strength, in conflict with deadly hazards; and the language expresses the earnest sympathy of the poet with men whose passions are engaged to the height in the business they are about. Of military matters, it occurs, that Walter bore a painted shield—that the battle-axe of the Franks was two-edged. Helmnod's mode of attack is singular--he launches a three-forked dart at the shield of his antagonist, fastened with a line, at which all that are left alive at the time drag with their united strength, expecting either to pull the warrior over, or to force his shield from him. They effect the last. The self-willed, imprudent, ungovernable temper of Gunther, who, notwithstanding his repeated losses, is still urging the remnant on, is well portrayed.-As are throughout the frank magnanimity and unshaken self-reliance of the heroic Walter-and the courage and artful wisdom of Hagano, the Ulysses of old German romance.

All the eleven being now dead, the King, who had alighted to assist in the last-described operation, mounts his horse and flies to Hagano. A dialogue ensues. To the King's entreaty, that he would undertake the combat, Hagano calmly replies, that he is of too unworthy a race to take part in the noble perils of war; that the blood frozen in his veins robs him of all courage for the fight; that even his father was used to shrink back in fear when he looked on weapons, and with many words, to avoid the challenge of battle, reiterating the King's former taunts. The King renews his supplication. His representations are so forcibly made, and the sight of his sovereign, humiliated

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and suppliant, so touching, that shame seizes the breast of the warrior, and he consents to aid the King with his arm and counsel. Refusing positively, however, to attack Walter in his present advantageous position, he proposes to the King that they should draw off, and conceal themselves, while their horses crop the meadow. Walter will suppose them gone, and proceed on his journey. They may then set on him by surprise. This is the only hope left in such an unfortunate business. Then the King, if he is bent upon it, may have fighting as much as he desires; for Walter, he assures him, will not Hy before them both. But they will have to fly, or else to fight most gallantly. The King is delighted with his advice; embraces and kisses him; they retire; look out the most convenient place for their ambush, and, • securing their horses, leave them to feed.

The fourth canto informs us that Phæbus sunk westward, working his track over the well-known Thule, which leaves behind its back the Scots and the Hiberni. When he had warmed the ocean-flood, and Hesperus had turned his horns towards Ausonia, the prudent hero began to ponder whether he should pass the night in his strong-hold, or trust "himself to the immeasurable plains of the long-stretching desert. Nothing was suspicious to him except Hagano, and the kiss which the King had given him. Had they returned to the town to assemble more companions in the night, and to renew the attack with early morning ? Or were they alone, concealed in some ambush, to lie in wait for him? This appeared doubtful. The unknown ways of the forest also disturbed him, and the apprehension that he might somewhere lose his bride in thickets, or by wild beasts. He concludes at last to wait out the night. “Let what will befall, King Gunther shall have no cause to say that he fled like a thief by night and mist.” He then throws a hasty defence of boughs and thorns across the narrow way, and, turning towards the bodies--the trunks is the expression, for he had severed every head from the body

with a bitter sob, he muffles up his head, and throwing himself on the earth towards the east, he prays with his sword bared. “ Him who made all things, who rules all things, and without whose will nothing comes to pass Him do I thank, that he has guarded me from the merciless weapons and orn of this hostile swarm. Also, with sorrow, I beseech the mild d, who seeks not so much to destroy the sinner as the sin, that he day grant me the grace to see them all together in heaven." It hardly be otherwise understood than that the Christian poet has e ascribed to his hero a feeling which he did not find in the native

a ory. When he had ended his prayer he stood up, and fastening the ix horses that were left-for two were slain, and three Gunther had taken with him—with cords of well-platted rods, so as to leave them liberty to range in a circle and feed, he ungirds and unarms his body, now reeking from his toil, and with cheerful words comforts his troubled bride. After refreshing himself with food, he lays himself down to rest on his shield, Hiltegund watching him in his first sleep. He slept. The lady sat at the head of her beloved, and watched unwearied. To keep her own slumberous eyes open, she sang. As soon as Walter awoke he stood up, and willed the maiden to take her rest. He himself grasped his spear, undepressed in spirit, on which he leaned. So he passed the remainder of the night. Now he takes a course about his horses. Now he draws unto his rampart, and harks