accompanied by the bold warrior, rushes madly towards him; calling aloud, insulting, threatening, and defying him, lots dai = bas trot aut To him the warrior answers not: as one that heareth not, he hath turned him from the King unto Hagano. With thee, he cries, have I to speak. Hold! what hath changed so sudden 2 the trusted friend? He who but Late at his departing seemed to tear himself so reluctantly from our embrace, falls now in arms upon us, on us who have in nothing ever done him wrong Something other than this, I own, I had hoped from thee. When thou, methought, shouldst know that it was thy friend who returned from exile, thou wouldst of thy own accord hasten to meet him, greet him with honour, and, unasked, lovingly entertain him as thy guest, till thou shouldst let him depart in peace and safety unto his father's realm. Already did I devise with myself how I should bestow thy gifts, and said inwardly, Now, indeed, must I wander through many unknown regions; yet at the least do I fear, if Hagano be living the hand of no Frank. I adjure thee by all the sports which, as boys, we learnt together, and in delightful unity pursued through our season of youth, whither is the celebrated friendship fled, which went with us in field, at home, which knew never bitterness nor grudge? for thy aspect was cause to me of the forgetting even of my father, and with thee my noble country seemed to me of lesser worth. Is it possible! dost thou in thy soul extinguish that oft-plighted faith? O leave from strife and heavy wrong! Wage thou this war no more. To us be our unbroken covenant holy. If thou consent, thou goest hence increased in wealth, for I will fill thy broad shield with the rich red metal." Then made Hagano ungentle answer. "First thou usest force, then, Walter, then too late dost thou make pretence with seeming words of wisdom. It was thyself that didst violate our league. Though thou sawest me present, yet with thy fierce sword thou madest waste among my comrades and my y kindred. Thou canst never excuse thyself not to have known that I was there, for if thou mightest ill discern my face, yet my arms thou sa west, and from the armour couldst know the man. All else perchance I could have borne, had not one intoleVOL. XI. rable grief been sant and beauti to me; alas! a flo promise, thy deadly mowed down. For this neither price nor gift, Bu know if courage inhabit with thee. From thee do I require my nephew's blood; and in this place either I die, or obtain renown So saying, he springs from his horse to the ground; Gunther and Walter do the same; all three prepared to fight on foot. Each stood and guarded himself from the coming blow. The heroes' limbs tremble under their shields. It was the second hour of the day when they began to fight; two armed men sworn against one. Some particulars of the fight are given, but by no means sufficient to fill up the whole time of the battle, which lasts seven hours. Hagano throws the first spear; it glances on Walter's upraised shield, and strikes deep into the ground. Gunther the over-weening, with great bravery of countenance, but little strength, throws his the next; it lodges in the lower rim of the hero's shield, and is easily shaken off. They then attack him sword in hand, he defending himself with his spear. After a while, Gunther imagines the regaining of his own lance by stealth, which the poet, who seems to conceive the weapon to have been forfeited, takes greatly amiss. The process of his theft is carefully detailed, though it is after all a manoeuvre rather difficult to understand. He nearly succeeds, but just as he is making off with the recovered lance, Walter observes him, and plucks it back. Gunther has exposed himself in the attempt, and is on the point of falling a sacrifice to his temerity, when Hagano the mighty in arms comes to his aid, and, covering him with his shield, presents the naked edge of his cruel sword before Walter's face. The King being rescued, they now fight fairly forward till the ninth hour; by which time it seems as if they all be gan to think the amusement had last ed long enough. A threefold deadly feeling smote them all: The grief of fight; sore toil; the sun's strong heat. At length the single warrior reflects that if this is to continue, the two will inevitably tire him out; a new imagination crosses his mind, and he instantly takes his resolution. He makes 4 D eech to Hagano, rows his lance at shield, breast-plate, them. Then Alpher's son called the fearful concealed maiden, who came forth and bound up their wounds. He Sounds the mighty body then said, " Bring, Hiltegund-bring At the same moment impetuously with his drawn sword upon Gunther, dashes by his shield to the right, and, with an astonishing and puissant stroke, cleaves up shin, knee, and hip. The King falls over his shield at the feet of his terrible foc. The good liegeman Hagano turns pale on seeing the danger of his lord; and as Alpher's son raises his blood-thirsty sword for the last blow, heeding no longer his own pain, the hero thrusts his stooped head before the furious stroke. The helmet of perfect temper and artifice, receives the blow in such wise that the sparkles flash out, and the sword, shivering against the impenetrable metal, glitters in fragments in the air and on the grass. Walter, overcome with rage, loses all his self-command, and impatiently flings from him the useless hilt, disdaining it, much as it was graced with skilful workmanship and costly metal. But as, in casting it away, he stretched out his hand widely from him, Hagano, espying his advantage, hews it off at the wrist, rejoicing to deal him so swift a wound. The dreaded, the conquering right hand, so honoured by rulers, by nations, falls in the midst of its act. But the warlike man, who was not used to yield even to adverse fortune, whose strong spirit vanquished all suffering of his body, let neither his hope nor his countenance fall. He hides the mutilated arm behind his shield, and with the uninjured hand draws his dagger, which hung girded on the right side, to avenge his loss. With it he struck out the gallant Hagano's right eye, slit down face and lip, and reft him of half a dozen cheek-teeth. These bloody feats end their warfare. Every one was summoned, by his wounds and his spent breath, to lay aside his weapons. For which of them could go free from this strife? When all was over, they looked about at their trophies. Here lay King Gunther's foot-there Walter's hand, and a little to one side, Hagano's quivering eye. This was all the division they made of the bracelets of the Huns. Two-for the third was lying-two sat in the grass, and staunched the streams of blood that gushed from hither wine. Bear first the goblet to Hagano. He is a brave man in battle, did he only not prefer loyalty to right. Bring it next to me, because I have endured more than the others. And Gunther, because he is so slothful, and yet has dared to appear among men who wield arms with might, lithely and slackly as he wages war, Gunther shall drink the last."-The daughter of Herrich obeys his words. But Hagano, much as his bosom panted with thirst, spake, as she proffered him the goblet, "Give it, lady, give it first to thy lord and bridegroom; for Alpher's son, I must confess it, is braver than I. He towers above me, and the Frank warriors all in the fight." The heroes, unvanquished in spirit, fatigued in their whole body-Hagano, and the thorny son of the King of Aquitaine, began, after so many a bout of war and bloody dealing, to engage over their full cups in an encounter of wit. The Frank is gamesome on the future left-handed performances of his friend, and Walter makes as merry with the misfortune of the one-eyed Sicambrian, as he calls him. The raillery that passes speaks more for the stout heart of the warriors than for their talent at humour; but it derives some merit from the circumstances, and its strain is at least purely antique and original. The story is here, abruptly, as it will appear to most readers, but undoubtedly on sufficient grounds, terminated. They now renew their bloody compact, meaning, apparently, their ancient compact, now sealed anew in blood. They lay the groaning king on his steed, and separate-the Franks for Worms-the Prince of Aquitaine for his native land. Here he was splendidly welcomed, and, beloved by all, reigned, after the death of his parents, thirty years over his happy people. What wars he waged, how often he triumphed, the worn-out pen of the author refuses him to describe. Thou that shalt read, forgive the chirping grasshopper, and think not so much on her hoarse voice as on her tender years, which forbid her yet to forsake the nest, and stretch her flight through the loftier atmosphere. |