How could he who led them have braver or bolder been

How could he who led them have braver or bolder been? That day he dimmed with life-blood many breastplates’ sheen; Siegfried it was, unyielding in storm of battle ever. How could the Danish Fru-te, or even Wâ-te the old, have shown them braver?

Thickly hurled were lances, hither and thither thrown: Ortwin, with his followers, in hopeful mood came on; Helmets that day he shattered, blows upon them dealing. Gu-drun was bitterly weeping: her women, too, were deepest sorrow feeling.

The strife, on both sides, lasted throughout the livelong day; Longing to reach each other, they crowded to the fray. There to knights and warriors must the fight go badly, Where the friends of Hettel to win his daughter back were striving gladly.

The evening sun sank lower; and for King Hettel now His losses grew the greater. King Ludwig’s men, I trow, Did their best in fighting, but could not flee the slaughter; Their foes they wounded deeply, and guarded thus Gu-drun from those who sought her.

The strife began at morning; by night alone ’twas stopped, And steadily had lasted; they ne’er their weapons dropped. The old and young together gained no shame in fighting. Now the brave King Hettel forward pressed, the king of the Normans meeting.