Now God in Heaven reward thee, Rüdiger, noblest of men

"Now God in Heaven reward thee, Rüdiger, noblest of men! In all the earth thy fellow shall never be seen again, Who givest to friendless warriors the best of all thy store. May God vouchsafe that the glory of thy goodness live evermore! Woe's me for the word thou bringest!" Hagen cried again: "Already we bear a burden too heavy of grief and pain. God pity us, if battle we must with a friend like this!" Answered the Lord of the Marches, "As thine my heart's grief is." "Now, Rüdiger noble-hearted, thee for thy gift I requite: Whatsoever in battle betide thee from any prince or knight, Not against thee uplifted in anger shall be mine hand, Though thou slay till thou leave none living of the men of Burgundia-land." Bowed unto him in silence that noble-hearted thane; And all men brake into weeping. That nought might make them refrain From such sorrow-fraught contention, it was sore calamity. In Rüdiger perished the father of all true chivalry!

Then Volker the viol-minstrel cried from the stairway's height: "Forasmuch as my comrade Hagen his peace unto thee doth plight, That same shall be moreover assured thee from mine hand. Of a surety well didst thou earn it at our coming into this land. Take thou, O noble Margrave, the message I leave with thee: These ruddy golden armlets Dame Gotlind gave unto me To wear them at this great high-tide, a memorial of her love, I do it, thyself beholdest: be thou my witness thereof." "Now would to God in Heaven," earnestly Rüdiger cried, "That the Margravine might give thee as many more beside! Unto my wife, my belovèd, full fain will I tell the tale, If so be that I live to behold her: doubt not my word shall fail."