Woe’s me!” said Lady Hilda, “what sorrows must we fear

“Woe’s me!” said Lady Hilda, “what sorrows must we fear? The men of the aged Wâ-te shattered shields now bear; Slowly step the horses, with armor heavy-loaded. Some evil has befallen. Oh! say what harm to the king is now forboded?”

When thus the queen had spoken, but little time had passed Ere to the aged Wâ-te crowds came up in haste, Who of friends and kinsfolk tidings now were seeking. Soon a tale he told them with which the hearts of all were well-nigh breaking.

Thus spake the Sturmisch Wâ-te: “Your loss I may not hide, Nor falsehood will I tell you; all in the fight have died.” The young and old together at this with fear were stricken. Ne’er was a throng more wretched; no other woes could one to theirs e’er liken.

“Alas! my bitter sorrow!” said King Hettel’s wife. “From me my lord is sundered, who there laid down his life, The great and mighty Hettel! My pride, how is it fallen! Lost are child and husband! Gu-drun I ne’er shall see, from me forever stolen.”

Then both knights and maidens with sharpest woe were torn; Their sorrow knew no healing. Loudly the queen forlorn Was heard, throughout the palace, for her husband mourning. “Ah, wretched me,” cried Hilda, “that now to Hartmut’s side the luck is turning!”

Then spake the brave old Wâ-te: “My lady, end your moan: Home are they coming never, but when to men are grown The youths within our kingdom, sad days will have an ending; To Ludwig and to Hartmut the like we’ll do, our wrath upon them spending.”

Then quoth the weeping lady: “Alas, that I must live! Whatever I am owning I would most gladly give Could e’er my wrongs be righted. If but this were granted, That I, poor God-forsaken, might see Gu-drun again, naught else were wanted.”

Old Wâ-te spake to Hilda: “Lady, weep no more. ’Tis best that we be sending, before twelve days are o’er, To gather all your warriors, who will help you gladly To plan a raid on the foeman; so with the Norman will it yet go badly.”

He said: “My Lady Hilda, list to what befell: Erewhile I took from pilgrims nine ships, and then set sail: These should again be given to those we ill have treated; That when new strifes we’re waging, a better luck to us may then be meted.”

The weeping Hilda answered: “’Tis best that this be done; Ever is it fitting that men for misdeeds atone. To steal the goods of pilgrims is a sin not lightly shriven: For every mark we’ve taken, to them three marks of silver shall be given.”