([St. XIII.]) Swertdegne are young noble squires destined for knighthood. The manic rîcher kneht of St. XXXIV are also squires, the same as the edeln knehte at the end of the poem. The mere knehte were an inferior class, like our yeomen. Nine thousand of these last accompanied Gunther to Etzel's court, and were entertained apart.
THIRD ADVENTURE
([St. V.]) Make, an old form for mate. Spenser has among other passages
And of fair Britomart ensample take,
That was as true in love as turtle to her make.
"Faerie Queene," III, ii. 2.
It is common in German romances of a certain period for brides to be carried off by force, and maidens to be wooed by suitors who have never set eyes on them. See Gervinus's Abridgment of his History of German poetry. See also the Gudrun.
([St. XXVII.]) Lachmann observes on the third verse: "This verse cannot be explained from our Lays (i.e., from anything in the poem); the Netherlanders lost no friend but Siegfried. Is there an allusion to other legends, or is the departure adorned with the usual coloring?" It really almost seems as if the writer of this particular stanza had confounded Nibelungers, Netherlanders and Burgundians all together.
([St. LI.]) Most of the marvels of modern romantic poetry may be traced back to much older tales reported by Greek authorities. The Scythian griffins, who watched the treasures coveted by their neighbors the Arimaspians, the dragon Ladon, who guarded the golden apples of the Hesperides, the more celebrated bullionist, who kept an eye on the golden fleece, are the undoubted ancestors of the more modern specimens of the serpent tribe, who inherited the like miserly passion, and allured such champions as Siegfried and Orlando to tread in the steps of Hercules and Jason. The volatile disposition of Wayland the Smith reminds us of Dædalus; his skill in his art exhibits him as a rival of Vulcan; his grandfather Wiking, like Ulysses, "æquoreas torsit amore Deas." The Alcinas and Armidas of the modern Italians are only heightened copies of Calypso and Circe; Siegfried, Orlando and Ferraù, with their invulnerable hides and superfluous armor, are each of them a modernized Achilles. This list might be easily lengthened. I am not, however, aware that the fancy of giving names to swords can be traced to the classics. Durindana, the sword of Orlando, Fusberta, that of Rinaldo, Excalibur, of King Arthur, Joyeuse, of Charlemagne, and others, may be paralleled by the following list from Northern fable, Gram and Balmung belonging to Siegfried, Mimung to Wayland and Wittich, Nagelring to Dietrich, Brinnig to Hildebrand, Sachs to Eck, Blutang to Heime, Schrit to Biterolf, Welsung to Sintram the Greek and Dietlieb, Waske to Iring, etc. This list is anything but perfect.
([St. LV.]) The tarnkappe, from an old word tarnen to conceal, and kappe, a mantle or cloak, otherwise called nebelkappe, from nebel, mist, obscurity, was a long and broad mantle, which made the wearer invisible, and gave him the strength of twelve men. For want of a better word I have translated it "cloud-cloak."