When the Prince of Bern, Lord Dietrich, saw the marvels…

When the Prince of Bern, Lord Dietrich, saw the marvels that he wrought, Saw Hagen the valiant cleaving the morions as he fought, Then sprang the chief of the Amals on a bench amidst of the hall, And he cried: "Here Hagen poureth a death-draught bitter as gall!" Well might the Lord of the Hunfolk be stricken with sore affright. —What hosts of his friends were falling down gulfs of death in his sight!— Death's wings overgloomed him, for round him was closing the foes' stern ring. In anguish he sat—what profit was it now unto him to be King? Then cried in her fear unto Dietrich Kriemhild, a great king's wife: "Help me, O noble hero, O help me hence with life! By the chivalrous honour I pray thee of the princes of Amelung-land! For if yon Hagen reach me, death is at my right hand." "How may I avail to help thee," Dietrich the princely said, "O noble Daughter of Princes? For myself do I stand in dread, So fiercely the wrath is kindled of yon King Gunther's array, That for no man's life can I answer in this season of dismay." "Now nay, Lord Dietrich, noblest of all knights," cried the Queen; "Let the chivalry of thy spirit in this dark hour be seen. Forth of this place do thou help me or ever I lie here dead!" Of a surety the spirit of Kriemhild was anguished with mortal dread. "Nay then, if perchance it avail you, your help will I essay, Albeit have I seen never through many a perilous day Aflame with such bitter fury such hosts of warriors good. I see from the helmets spurting 'neath sword-strokes ever the blood!"

Then did that peerless warrior uplift a shattering shout: Like the horn of a wild bull blaring his mighty voice rang out,

That through all the wide-built fortress its thunder-echoes rolled; So great was the strength of Dietrich, its measure may not be told. Then heard that shout King Gunther, and he hearkened thereunto As it pealed o'er the battle-tempest, and the voice of the hero he knew; And he cried: "The voice of Dietrich!—it fell on mine ear but now. Our knights in the battle have smitten a friend of his, I trow. There on the table I see him: he beckoneth with his hand. Ho ye, my friends and kinsmen, knights of Burgundia-land, From the strife for a little refrain you, that so we may hear and see What hurt hath been done unto Dietrich by them of my company."

So the knights at the prayer of Gunther, at the warrior king's behest, Let sink their swords, and the fury of fight for a space had rest. By that sudden peace did Gunther his power unto all men show: Then straightway he asked of Dietrich wherefore he cried to him so. He said: "O noble Dietrich, now who hath lifted a hand Of any my friends against thee? Willing and ready I stand To make unto thee atonement, and thy claim to satisfy. If any had done thee a mischief, grieved to the heart were I." Made answer the noble Dietrich: "No wrong hath been wrought unto me. But let me in peace and safety forth of the hall go free, And take with me all my people out of the bitter strife; So will I to thee of a surety be beholden all my life." "Wherefore so soon," cried Wolfhart, "a grace of him dost implore? Yon viol-minstrel hath barred not, I wot, so fast the door, But that wide ourselves can set it, till we all therethrough have won." "Thou, hold thy peace!" said Dietrich, "no smallest deed hast thou done."

Spake unto him King Gunther: "This I accord unto you. Lead all forth of the palace, many be they or few, So they be not my foemen: of these forth goeth none, For of these foul wrong hath been done me here in the land of the Hun." When Dietrich the noble heard it, around the high-born Queen Cast he an arm of protection—her fear was deadly-keen!—

And forth of the hall King Etzel he drew with the other hand; And after Dietrich followed six hundred knights of his band.

Then unto Gunther the Margrave, the noble Rüdiger, cried: "If thou meanest that forth of the palace any shall win beside Of such as be fain to serve thee, of this thing do me to wit; So shall our bond of friendship and peace be abidingly knit." Then to his fair bride's father Giselher straightway spake: "Let peace and love between us be a bond that none shall break. The troth-plight of friendship ever do thou and thine maintain. Go fearless forth of the palace, thou and thy vassal-train." When Rüdiger, Lord of the Marches, passed free through the guarded door, There went with him five hundred—yea, peradventure more— Friends of the Lord of Bechlaren and his trusty vassal-throng: But of that fair faith unto Gunther great scathe befell ere long.

Now it happed that a knight of the Hunfolk beheld King Etzel go Safe under Dietrich's shielding, and would fain 'scape even so; But with a stroke so deadly the viol-minstrel swept The head from the skulker's shoulders, that to Etzel's feet it leapt. So when the Lord of Hunland came forth from the battle-wrack, He turned him about, and at Volker he looked in amazement back— "Woe's me for the guests I have harboured! O day of sorrow and bane Wherein beneath their prowess all these my knights fall slain! Woe's me for my festal high-tide!" that king of nations said: "Within there fighteth a warrior, Volker, a name of dread. Like some wild boar he rageth—and a minstrel him they name! Thank Heaven that safe from the talons of this foul fiend I came! Doom rings and sings in his measures, red are the strokes of his bow; In his notes I hear the death-knell of many a knight laid low. What hath the viol-minstrel against us know I not. Never by guest such sorrow upon mine house was brought!"