But far otherwise it proved: Siegfried by main with a Dwarf Army; he was driven back into force slew this Dragon, or rather Dragonized the cave: plundered of his Tarnkappe; and Smith's-Brother; made broth of him; and, obliged with all his myrmidons to swear fealty warned by some significant phenomena, bathed to the conqueror, whom indeed thenceforth he therein; or, as others assert, bathed directly in and they punctually obeyed. the monster's blood without cookery; and hereby attained that Invulnerability, complete in all respects, save that between his shoulders where a limetree leaf chanced to settle and stick during the process, there was one little spot, a fatal spot as afterwards turned out, left in its natural state.

other cases, too, we have seen this outward sport and inward earnestness offer grateful contrast, and cunning excitement; for example, in Tasso; of whom, though otherwise different enough, this old Northern Singer has more than once reminded us. There, too, as here, we have a dark solemn meaning in light

carved metal does from rude agglomerated ore; | shows itself without the other following,almost as some Shakspeare from his fellow there is something which reminds us not so Dramatists, whose Tamburlaines and Island much of poverty, as of trustfulness and childPrincesses, themselves not destitute of merit, like innocence. Indeed a strange charm lies first show us clearly in what pure loftiness and in those old tones, where, in gay dancing meloloneliness the Hamlets and Tempests reign. dies, the sternest tidings are sung to us; and The unknown Singer of the Nibelungen, deep floods of Sadness and Strife play lightly though no Shakspeare, must have had a deep, in little curling billows, like seas in summer. poetic soul; wherein things discontinuous and It is as a meek smile, in whose still, thoughtinanimate shaped themselves together into ful depths a whole infinitude of patience, and life, and the Universe with its wondrous pur-love, and heroic strength lie revealed. But in por: stood significantly imaged; overarching, as with heavenly firmaments and eternal harmonies, the little scene where men strut and fret their hour. His Poem, unlike so many old and new pretenders to that name, has a basis and organic structure, a beginning, middle, and end; there is one great principle and idea set forth in it, round which all its multi-guise; deeds of high temper, harsh self-denial, farious parts combine in living union. Remarkable it is, moreover, how along with this essence and primary condition of all poetic virtue, the minor external virtues of what we call Taste, and so forth, are, as it were, presupposed; and the living soul of Poetry being there, its body of incidents, its garment of language, come of their own accord. So, too, in the case of Shakspeare: his feeling of propriety, as compared with that of the Marlowes and Fletchers, his quick sure sense of what is fit and unfit, either in act or word, might astonish us, had he no other superiority. But true Inspiration, as it may well do, includes that same Taste, or rather a far higher and heartfelt Taste, of which that other "elegant" species is but an ineffectual, irrational apery: let us see the herald Mercury actually descend from his Heaven, and the bright wings, and the graceful movement of these, will not be want

ing.

With an instinctive art, far different from acquired artifice, this Poet of the Nibelungen, working in the same province with his contemporaries of the Heldenbuch, on the same material of tradition, has, in a wonderful degree, possessed himself of what these could only strive after; and with his "clear feeling of fictitious truth," avoided as false the errors and monstrous perplexities in which they vainly struggled. He is of another species than they; in language, in purity and depth of feeling, in fineness of invention, stands quite apart from them.

daring, and death, stand embodied in that soft, quick-flowing, joyfully-modulated verse. Nay, farther, as if the implement, much more than we might fancy, had influenced the work done, these two Poems, could we trust our individual feeling, have in one respect the same poetical result for us: in the Nibelungen as in the Gerusalemme, the persons and their story are indeed brought vividly before us, yet not near and palpably present; it is rather as if we looked on that scene through an inverted telescope, whereby the whole was carried far away into the distance, the life-large figures comprised into brilliant miniatures, so clear, so real, yet tiny, elf-like, and beautified as well as lessened, their colours being now closer and brighter, the shadows and trivial features no longer visible. This, as we partly apprehend, comes of Singing Epic Poems; most part of which only pretend to be sung. Tasso's rich melody still lives among the Italian people; the Nibelungen also is what it professes to be, a Song.

No less striking than the verse and language is the quality of the invention manifested here. Of the Fable, or narrative material of the Nibelungen, we should say that it had high, almost the highest merit; so daintily, yet firmly, is it put together; with such felicitous selection of the beautiful, the essential, and no less felicitous rejection of whatever was unbeautiful or even extraneous. The reader is no longer afflicted with that chaotic brood of Firedrakes, Giants, and malicious turbaned Turks, so fatally rife in the Heldenbuch: all this is The language of the Heldenbuch, as we saw swept away, or only hovers in faint shadows above, was a feeble half-articulate child's-afar off; and a free field is opened for legiti speech, the metre nothing better than a miserable doggerel; whereas here in the old Frankish (Oberdutsch) dialect of the Nibelungen, we have a clear decisive utterance, and in a real system of verse, not without essential regularity, great liveliness, and now and then even harmony of rhythm. Doubtless we must often call it a diffuse diluted utterance; at the same time it is genuine, with a certain antique garrulous heartiness, and has a rhythm in the thoughts as well as the words. The simplicity is never silly, even in that perpetual recurrence of epithets, sometimes of rhymes, as where two words for instance lib (body, life, leib) and wip (woman, wife, weip) are indissolubly wedded together, and the one never

mate perennial interests. Yet neither is the Nibelungen without its wonders; for it is poetry and not prose; here too, a supernatural world encompasses the natural, and, though at rare intervals and in a calm manner, reveals itself there. It is truly wonderful with what skill our simple, untaught Poet deals with the marvellous; admitting it without reluctance or criticism, yet precisely in the degree and shape that will best avail him. Here, if in no other respect, we should say that he has a decided superiority to Homer himself. The whole story of the Nibelungen is fateful, mysterious, guided on by unseen influences; yet the actual marvels are few, and done in the far distance: those Dwarfs, and Cl aks of Dark

This is the brief artless Proem; and the pro
mise contained in it proceeds directly towards
In the very second stanza we
fulfilment.
learn :-

Es wühs in Burgonden Ein vil edel magedin,
Das in allen landen Niht schoners mohte sin,
Chriemkilt was si gehein Si wart ein schöne wip,
Darumbe müsen degene Vil verliesen den lip.
A right noble maiden Did grow in Burgundy,
That in all lands of earth Nought fairer mote there be;
Chriemhild of Worms she hight, She was a fairest wife:
For the which must warriors A many lose their life.*

ness, and charmed Treasure-caves, are heard of rather than beheld, the tidings of them seem to issue from unknown space. Vain were it to inquire where that Nibelungen land specially is: its very name is Nebel-land or Nifl-land, the land of Darkness, of Invisibility. The " Nibelungen Heroes," that muster in thousands and tens of thousands, though they march to the Rhine or Danube, and we see their strong limbs and shining armour, we could almost fancy to be children of the air. Far beyond the firm horizon, that wonder-bearing region swims on the infinite waters; unseen by bodily eye, or at most discerned as a faint streak, hanging in the blue depths, uncertain whether island or cloud. And thus the Nibelungen Song, though based on the bottomless foundation of Spirit, and not unvisited of skyey messengers, is a real, rounded, habitable Earth, where we find firm footing, and the wondrous and the common live amicably together. Per-her; the falcon is a noble husband, whom, God haps it would be difficult to find any Poet of ancient or modern times, who in this trying problem has steered his way with greater delicacy and success.

Chriemhild, this world's-wonder, a king's daughter and king's sister, and no less coy and proud than fair, dreams one night that "she had petted a falcon, strong, beautiful, and wild; which two eagles snatched away from her: this she was forced to see; greater sorrow felt she never in the world." Her mother, Ute, to whom she relates the vision, soon redes it for

keep him, she must suddenly lose. Chriemhild declares warmly for the single state; as indeed, living there at the Court of Worms, with her brothers, Gunther, Gernot, Geiselher, "three To any of our readers, who may have per- kings noble and rich," in such pomp and resonally studied the Nibelungen, these high nown, the pride of Burgunden-land and Earth, praises of ours will not seem exaggerated: the she might readily enough have changed for rest, who are the vast majority, must endeavour the worse. However, dame Ute bids her not be to accept them with some degree of faith, at too emphatical; for "if ever she have heart-felt least, of curiosity; to vindicate, and judicially joy in life, it will be from man's love, and she substantiate them would far exceed our pre-shall be a fair wife, (wip), when God sends her sent opportunities. Nay, in any case, the criticisms, the alleged Characteristics of a Poem are so many Theorems, which are indeed enunciated, truly or falsely, but the Demonstration of which must be sought for in the reader's own study and experience. Nearly all that can be attempted here, is some hasty epitome of the mere Narrative; no substantial image of the work, but a feeble outline and shadow. To which task, as the personages and their environment have already been in some degree illustrated, we can now proceed without obstacle.

The Ni clungen has been called the Northern Epos; yet it has, in great part, a Dramatic character: those thirty-nine Aven'iuren (Adventures) which it consists of, might be so many scenes in a Tragedy. The catastrophe is dimly prophesied from the beginning; and, at every fresh step, rises more and more clearly into view. A shadow of coming Fate, as it were, a low inarticulate voice of Doom falls from the first, out of that charmed Nibelungen-land: the discord of two women, is as a little spark of evil passion, that ere long enlarges itself into a crime; foul murder is done; and now the Sin rolls on like a devouring fire, till the guilty and the innocent are alike encircled with it, and a whole land is ashes, and a whole race is swept

away.

Uns ist in alten maren Wunders vil geseit,
Von helden lobebaren Von grozer chuonheit,
Von vrouden und hoch-geziten Von weinen und von chlagen,
Von chuner rechen striten Muget ir nu wunder hören

sagen.

We find in ancient story, Wonders many told,
Of heroes in great glory, With spirit free and bold,
Of joyances, and high-tides, Of weeping and of wo,
Of noble Recken striving, Mote ye now wonders know.

66

a right worthy Ritter's lip." Chriemhild is more in earnest than maidens usually are when they talk thus; it appears, she guarded against love "for many a lief-long day;" nevertheless, she too must yield to destiny. Honourably she was to become a most noble Ritter's wife." "This," adds the old Singer, "was that same falcon she dreamed of: how sorely she since revenged him on her nearest kindred! For that one death died full many a mother's son."

It may be observed that the Poet, here, and all times, shows a marked partiality for Chriemhild; ever striving, unlike his fellow singers, to magnify her worth, her faithfulness, and loveliness; and softening, as much as may be, whatever makes against her. No less a favourite with him is Siegfried, the prompt, gay, peaceably fearless hero; to whom, in the Second Aventure, we are here suddenly introduced, at Santen (Xanten) the Court of Netherland; whither, to his glad parents, after achievements (to us partially known) "of which one might sing and tell for ever," that noble prince has returned. Much as he has done and conquered, he is but just arrived at man's

This is the first of a thousand instances, in which the two inseparables, Wip and Lip, or in modern tongue, Weib and Leib, as mentioned above, appear together. From these two opening stanzas of the Nibelungen Lied in its purest form, the reader may obtain some idea of the versification; it runs on in more or less regular Alexandrines, with a cæsural pause in each, where the capital letter occurs; indeed, the lines seem originally to have been divided into two at that point, for sometimes, as in Stanza First, the middle words (meren, lobebaren; geziten, striten) also rhyme; but this is rather a rare case. The word Rechen or Recken, used in the First Stanza, is the constant designation for bold fighters, and has the same root with rich, (thus in old French, hommes riches; in Spanish, ricos hombres,) which last is here also synonymous with powerful, and is applied to kings, and even to the Almighty, Got dem richen.

"gold-red saddles," come to joust, and better than whole infinities of kings and princes with their saddles, the fair Chriemhild herself, under guidance of her mother, chiefly too in honour of the victor, is to grace that sport. "Ute the full rich" fails not to set her needle-women to work, and "clothes of price are taken from their presses," for the love of her child," wherewith to deck many women and maids." And now, "on the Whitsun-morning," all is ready, and glorious as heart could desire it: brave Ritters "five thousand or more," all glancing in the lists; but grander still, Chriemhild herself is advancing beside her mother, with a hundred body-guards, all sword-in-hand and many a noble maid “wearing rich raiment," in her train!

years it is on occasion of this joyful event, that a high-tide (hochgezit) is now held there, with infinite joustings, minstrelsy, largesses, and other chivalrous doings, all which is sung with utmost heartiness. The old King Siegemund offers to resign his crown to him; but Siegfried has other game a-field: the unparalleled beauty of Chriemhild has reached his ear and his fancy; and now he will to Worms, and woo her, at least "see how it stands with her." Fruitless is it for Siegemund and the mother Siegelinde to represent the perils of that enterprise, the pride of those Burgundian Gunthers and Gernots, the fierce temper of their uncle Hagen; Siegfried is as obstinate as young men are in these cases, and can hear no counsel. Nay, he will not accept the much more liberal proposition, to take an army with him, "Now issued forth the lovely one, (minnechand conquer the country, if it must be so; he liche,) as the red morning doth from troubled will ride forth, like himself, with twelve cham-clouds; much care fled away from him, who pions only, and so defy the future. Whereupon, the old people finding that there is no other course, proceed to make him clothes ;*at least, the good queen with “her fair women sitting night and day," and sewing, does so, the father furnishing noblest battle and riding gear; -and so dismiss him with many blessings and lamentations. "For him wept sore the king and his wife, but he comforted both their bodies (lip); he said, 'ye must not weep, for my body ever shall ye be without care.'

Sad was it to the Recken, Stood weeping many a maid,
I ween, their heart had them The tidings true foresaid
That of their friends so many Death thereby should find;
Cause had they of lamenting Such boding in their mind.

Nevertheless, on the seventh morning, that adventurous company "ride up the sand," (on the Rhine beach to Worms,) in high temper, in dress and trappings, aspect and bearing, more than kingly.

bore her in his heart, and long had done; he saw the lovely one stand in her beauty.

"There glanced from her garments full many precious stones, her rose-red colour shone full lovely; try what he might, each man must confess that in this world he had not seen aught so fair.

"Like as the light moon stands before the stars, and its sheen so clear goes over the clouds, even so stood she now before many fair women; whereat cheered was the mind of the hero.

"The rich chamberlains you saw go before her, the high spirited Recken would not forbear, but pressed on where they saw the lovely maiden. Siegfried the lord was both glad and

sad.

that I should woo thee? That was a foolish "He thought in his mind, how could this be dream; yet must I for ever be a stranger, I were rather (sanf er, softer) dead. He became from these thoughts, in quick changes, pale and red.

"Thus stood so lovely the child of Siegelinde, as if he were limned on parchment by a master's art; for all granted that hero so beautiful they had never seen."

Siegfried's reception at King Gunther's court, and his brave sayings and doings there for some time, we must omit. One fine trait of his chivalrous delicacy it is that, for a whole year, he never hints at his errand; never once sees or speaks of Chriemhild, whom, nevertheless, he is longing day and night to meet. She, on her side, has often through her lattices In this passage, which we have rendered, noticed the gallant stranger victorious in all from the Fifth Aventure, into the closest prose, tiltings and knightly exercises; whereby it it is to be remarked, among other singularwould seem, in spite of her rigorous predeter-ities, that there are two similes: in which minations, some kindness for him is already figure of speech our old Singer deals very The first, that comparison of gliding in. Meanwhile, mighty wars and sparingly. threats of invasion arise, and Siegfried does Chriemhild to the moon among stars with its the state good service. Returning victorious, sheen going over the clouds, has now for both as general and soldier, from Hessen, many centuries had little novelty or merit; (Hessia,) where, by help of his own courage and the sword Balmung, he has captured a Danish King, and utterly discomfited a Saxon one; he can now show himself before Chriemhild without other blushes than those of timid love. Nay, the maiden has herself inquired pointedly of the messengers, touching his exploits; and "her fair face grew rose-red when she heard them." A gay High-tide, by way of triumph, is appointed; several kings, and twoand-thirty princes, and knights enough with

♦ This is a never-failing preparative for all expeditions, and always specified and insisted on with a simple, loving, almost female impressiveness.

but the second, that of Siegfried to a Figure in some illuminated Manascript, is graceful in itself; and unspeakably so to antiquaries, seldom honoured, in their Black-letter stubbing and grubbing, with such a poetic windfall.

A prince and a princess of this quality are Nay, on the clearly made for one another. motion of young Herr Gernot, fair Chriemhild is bid specially to salute Siegfried, she who had never before saluted man: which unparalleled grace the lovely one, in all courtliness, openly does him. "Be welcome," said she, "Herr Siegfried, a noble Ritter good;" from which salute, for this seems to have been all, "much raised was his mind." He bowed