From these Mer-women, who “skimmed aloof like white cygnets” at sight of him, Hagen snatches up “their wondrous raiment;" on condition of returning which, they rede him his fortune; how this expedition is to speed. At first favourably;
She said; “To Etzel’s country Of a truth ye well may hie,
For here I pledge my hand, Now kill me if I lie,
That heroes seeking honour Did never arrive thereat
So richly as ye shall do, Believe thou surely that.”
But no sooner is the wondrous raiment restored them than they change their tale; for in spite of that matchless honour, it appears eyery one of the adventurous Recken is to perish.
Outspake the wild Mer-woman: “I tell thee it will arrive,
Of all your gallant host No man shall be left alive,
Except King Gunther’s chaplain, As we full well do know;
He only, home returning, To the Rhine-land back shall go.”
Then spake Von Troneg Hagen, is wrath did fiercely swells
“Such tidings to my master I were right loath to tell,
That in King Etzel’s country We all must lose our life:
Yet show me over the water, Thou wise all-knowing wife.”
Thereupon, seeing him bent on ruin, she gives directions how to find the ferry, but withal counsels him to deal warily; the ferry-house stands on the other side of the river; the boatman, too, is not only the hottest-tempered of men, but rich and indolent; nevertheless, if nothing else will serve, let Hagen call himself Amelrich, and that name will bring him. All happens as predicted: the boatman, heedless of all shouting and offers of gold clasps, bestirs him lustily at the name of Amelrich; but the more indignant is he, on taking-in his fare, to find it a counterfeit. He orders Hagen, if he toves his life, to leap out.
“Now say not that,” spake Hagen; “Right hard am I bested,
Take from me for good friendship This clasp of gold so red;
And row our thousand heroes And steeds across this river.”
Then spake the wrathful boatman, “That will I surely never.”
