So thence went Siegfried unto the haven on the strand,
Clad in his hood of darkness, to where a boat did stand.
Therein he stood, all hidden, this son of Siegmund brave;⁠—
He steered it quickly seaward, as ’twere the wind that drave.

Though no one saw the steersman, fast sped the bark along,
Urged by the strength of Siegfried⁠— in sooth his arms were strong.
Men thought that she was driven by some strange, mighty wind:
No, it was Siegfried drave her, the son of fair Sieglind.

When he a day had voyaged, and likewise through a night,
He came unto a country, by dint of main and might;⁠—
From one end to the other a hundred leagues or more,
The Niblung land, where kept he the mighty hoard in store.

Then, all alone, the hero steered to an eyot broad,
And ran his skiff alongshore and left her safely moor’d.
Then climbed he to a mountain, on which a castle stood,
And, like a wayworn traveller, for shelter sought and food.

So came he to the gateway, which, locked, before him stood⁠—
They guarded well their honour, as folk at this day would.
Then straight he fell a-knocking, like any man unknown.
The gate was kept well guarded: he saw within it soon

A monstrous giant warder, who sentinel did stand,
And kept at all times ready his weapons close at hand.
He called: “Who cometh knocking so loudly at the door?”
Then answer’d the bold Siegfried⁠— but changed his voice therefore⁠—

And said: “I am a warrior; undo me now the gate,
Ere I arouse to anger some one, though it be late,
Who rather would sleep softly and in his chamber bide.”
It anger’d the gate-keeper that Siegfried thus replied.

Soon had the doughty giant girded his armour on,
Set on his head his helmet, and quickly seized upon
And swung aloft his buckler, and opened wide the gate:
How straightly then on Siegfried he rush’d, with scowl of hate!

“How had he dared awaken so many a gallant man?”
And straight upon the question his hand to smite began.
The noble guest prepared him a bold defence to make⁠—
But, at the porter’s onset, his very shield-clasps brake,

Smashed by a bar of iron; the knight was sore distrest,
And somewhat was he fearful that death would end his quest⁠—
Seeing the huge gate-keeper did smite so sturdily;
Which yet his master Siegfried was not ill-pleased to see.

So mighty was their combat that all the castle rang.
Throughout the halls of Niblung men heard the crash and clang.
At last he threw the giant, and bound him foot and hand;
The tidings soon spread over the whole of Niblung-land.

The noise of fierce strife sounded deep through the mountain side,
Where Alberich the bold one⁠— a wild dwarf⁠—did abide:
With speed he seized his weapons, and ran to where he found
This brave and noble stranger, as he the giant bound.

A fierce wight was this Albrich, of strength he had good store;
A helmet and a hauberk he on his body wore;
A weighty whip, gold-handled, he carried in his hand:
With all his swiftness ran he to where Siegfried did stand.

Seven knots, both hard and heavy, hung down in front of it,
With which the bold man’s buckler so ruthlessly he hit⁠—
As in his hand he held it⁠— that it in pieces fell.
Then was the goodly stranger in fear for life as well.

The shield, that now was broken, he from his hand did throw,
And thrust into its scabbard his sword⁠—’twas long enow.⁠—
His treasurer he would not, an he could help it, slay:
His breeding he forgat not, as was his righteous way.

With his strong hands for weapons at Alberich he ran,
And by the beard he gripp’d him, that old and grizzly man!
So ruthlessly he pull’d it, that loud the old man cried:
The grip of the young hero could Albrich ill abide.

Loud was the bold dwarf’s outcry: “I prithee now, have done;
An I could be the liegeman of any knight, save one
To whom I have sworn fealty to be his vassal aye⁠—
Rather than die, I’d serve thee!” the crafty one did say.

But Alberich was bound as the giant had been bound,
And by the strength of Siegfried much pain and trouble found.
The dwarf began to question: “How are you call’d?” quoth he,
He said: “My name is Siegfried: I should be known to thee!”

“That is a goodly hearing!” said Alberich the dwarf.
“Now know I of a surety what metal you are of,
And know you have good reason to lord it in the land.
If you my life will leave me, I’ll do what you command.”

Thus spake the hero Siegfried: “Then must thou straightway go
And bring me of the warriors the best we have, I trow;
Of Nibelungs a thousand I fain would here behold.”
But wherefore these he wanted that was to no man told.

Of Albrich and the giant the fetters he unbound.
Then Alberich ran quickly to where the knights he found.
The Nibelungs he wakened from sleep right cautiously,
And said: “Up now, ye heroes! to Siegfried hasten ye!”

Then sprang they from their couches all ready at his call⁠—
A thousand active warriors equipp’d stood in the hall.
So went they unto Siegfried, who by himself did stand,
And fairly did he greet them⁠— some knelt to kiss his hand.

They lit full many a taper, pure wine for him they pour’d.
He thank’d them all for coming so promptly at his word.
Then spake he: “Ye must yonder with me across the flood!”
For this he found them ready, those heroes bold and good.

Full thirty hundred warriors had come at his behest:
From out their numbers took he a thousand of the best.
To these were brought their helmets, and all their gear to hand⁠—
Because he fain would lead them unto Brunhilda’s land.

He spake: “Ye good knights, hearken to that which now I say:
Your raiment should at court be exceeding rich and gay⁠—
For many a lovely woman will look on us, I trow;
So make your bodies handsome with good clothes ere we go.”

All on a morning early the bold knights rode away.
What gallant comrades Siegfried had got himself that day!
They all had good war-horses, and garments rich and grand:
With knightly mien and bearing they came to Brunhild’s land.

Upon the turrets standing was many a winsome maid.
Then spake the queen: “Doth any know who be these,” she said,
“Whom I see sailing hither from o’er the sea so far?
Their sails be richly woven⁠— whiter than snow they are.”

And the Rhine-king made answer: “My warriors are they,
Whom I did on the journey bid near at hand to stay.
I sent to fetch them, lady, and here they come, I see.”
Whereon the noble strangers were eyed all wond’ringly.

For plainly saw they Siegfried upon the foredeck stand,
Arrayed in costly raiment, with all his warrior-band.
Then said the queen: “Now must you, my Lord King, counsel me:
Shall these new guests be welcomed? or shall I let them be?”

He spake: “Without the palace to meet them you should go,
As if we saw them gladly, that they may take it so.”
Then did the queen according unto the king’s behest;⁠—
Though, in her greeting, Siegfried she sever’d from the rest.

A lodging was found for them, their goods were put in store.
And now so many strangers had landed on that shore,
That great the throng of folk was, whichever way one went.
The knights on sailing homewards to Burgundy were bent.

Then spake the Queen Brunhilda: “Right thankful should I be
To him who could my silver and gold divide for me
Between my guests and Gunther’s; an ample store I have.”
Then Dankwart said:⁠—the liegeman of Giselher the brave⁠—

“Most noble Queen and Lady, let me now have the key.
I trow I can divide it: if shame should fall on me,
So let it be mine only.” Thus spake the doughty thane.
That he a gentle knight was, was from his bearing plain.

As soon as Hagen’s brother the key had at command,
So many gifts and costly dispensed the hero’s hand:
To those who one mark needed, such bounty did he give,
That all the poorest, henceforth, in comfort well might live.

Pound pieces by the hundred he, without reckoning, gave.
In clothing rich, full many that royal hall did leave
Who ne’er such splendid raiment before that time had worn.
This vexed the queen right sorely, it was not to be borne!

She spake, in her vexation: “Sir King, it seems to me
This chamberlain of yours is with all my goods so free
He soon will leave me nothing: he throws my gold away!
I shall be aye beholden to him who this can stay.

Such rich gifts doth he lavish, the thane must sure believe
I’ve sent for Death to take me: but I would longer live!
Whate’er my father left me I trow I well can spend.
On such a spendthrift treasurer did never queen depend!”

Then Hagen spake of Tronjé: “Fair lady, have no fear!
The king of the Rhine river hath gold enough, and gear
To lavish just as freely; and well may we forego
To take Brunhilda’s treasure when hence we homeward go.”

“Nay, for mine own sake, hear me,” the queen said, “for I will
Take with me twenty coffers, which I with gold will fill
And silken stuffs, which also I’ll give with mine own hand,
When we come over yonder unto King Gunther’s land.”

With precious stones and jewels they did her coffers lade;
Her own lords of the chamber to help therewith she bade:
For she would put no trust in the men of Giselher.
Gunther, therefore, and Hagen began to laugh at her.

Then spake the Queen Brunhilda: “To whom leave I my land?
That first must be determined by thine and mine own hand.”
The noble king made answer: “Let him forthwith appear
Who best thereto would please you⁠— we’ll leave him steward here.”

One of her noblest kinsmen the lady to her bade,
(It was her mother’s brother) to him the maiden said:
“To you be now entrusted my castles and the land,
Until they come directly under King Gunther’s hand.”

Then did she of her people choose twenty hundred men,
Who with her to the Rhineland must make the voyage then⁠—
Beside the thousand warriors who came from Niblung land.
Then all to start made ready: they rode down to the strand.

Of women six and eighty along with her she took,
And eke a hundred maidens, who comely were in look.
Then they delay’d no longer⁠— they wearied to be gone;
But those they left behind them, these wept, ay, many a one!

With seemly grace the lady fared from her fatherland;
She kissed her nearest kinsmen, who stood on either hand.
With kindliest leave-takings they came unto the shore;⁠—
To her forefathers’ country the lady came no more!

One heard of games of all kinds to pass the time away
And make the journey shorter: a hundred pastimes gay.
They had, too, for their voyage a right good sailing wind.
With merriment and laughter they left their land behind.

Not once upon the journey did she embrace her lord:
Until they reached his palace their pleasure was defer’d.
At Worms they, in the castle, their wedding feast would hold;
Where they, ere long, with gladness came with their heroes bold.