How Sir Dietrich's Men Were All Slain, LXXI–XC

Just then redoubted Hagan upon the gleeman thought, Whom the good knight Sir Hildebrand so late to death had brought. Thus he bespake the conqueror, "You for my grief shall pay; Of many a valiant champion you've robb'd us here to-day."

So struck he then at Hildebrand, that all at once might hear 'Twas Balmung there was sounding, the sword that he whilere Had ta'en from noble Siegfried when he the hero slew. Well was his onset warded by the graybeard stout and true.

Sir Dietrich's aged liegeman the fearful stroke repaid With one that show'd, that he, too, wielded a griding blade; Still from the man of Gunther no drop of blood he drew. Sir Hagan with a second cut his good hauberk through.

Soon as aged Hildebrand felt the sharp gash aright, He look'd for worse, by waiting, from Hagan's stormy might; So o'er his back his buckler straight threw Sir Dietrich's man, And swift, though sorely wounded, away from Hagan ran.

Now not a man was living of that Burgundian train Gunther except, and Hagan, these the sole breathing twain. Old Hildebrand thence hasted, with blood all dabbled o'er, And to the noble Dietrich his sorry tidings bore.

Apart he found him sitting, solemn and sad of cheer; What more might move his sorrow the prince had yet to hear. Straight Hildebrand beheld he clad in his bloody mail; He ask'd him of his tidings, yet fear'd to hear his tale.

"Now tell me, Master Hildebrand, what brings you here so wet With life-blood? Who has done it? What mischief have you met? I fear, you have been fighting in th' hall with yonder guests; I earnestly forbade it; you should have kept your lord's behests."

Straight his lord he answer'd, "'Twas Hagan did it all; This wound, that so is bleeding, he gave me in the hall, As from the knight I turn'd me, and would have left the strife. Scarce from that very devil have I escaped with life."

Him thus the Berner answer'd, "This mishap's your due; You heard me promise friendship to yonder knightly crew, And yet the peace I gave them you have presum'd to break, Were it not beneath me, your life for it I'd take."

"Nay, my good Lord Dietrich, be not so wroth of mood; To me and mine already has too much loss accrued. We wish'd the noble Rudeger to take from where he died; We ask'd the men of Gunther, and proudly were denied."

"Woe's me for this misfortune! Is Rudeger then dead? Him must I wail forever; now I indeed am sped. Woe for the Lady Gotelind! My cousin's child is she. Woe, too, for the poor orphans that at Bechlaren be!"

The margrave's death impress'd him with pity and ruth so deep, He could refrain no longer, but straight began to weep. "Alas! My faithful comrade! Such loss I needs must rue. Ne'er can I cease bewailing King Etzel's liegeman true.

"Come now, Master Hildebrand, the truth discover plain, Tell me, who's the champion, who has the margrave slain." Said he, "'Twas noble Gernot whose strength the margrave sped; He by the hand of Rudeger in turn was stricken dead."

Then thus replied Sir Dietrich, "Thither will I anon; So go and tell my warriors their armor straight to don, And bid my glittering hauberk be brought me instantly; I myself will question yon knights of Burgundy."

Then spake Master Hildebrand, "Whom would you have me call? Of those who yet are living you see before you all; I'm now your only soldier, the others they are dead." Sore shudder'd then Sir Dietrich for dole and drearihead.

In all the world such ruin did ne'er the knight befall. Said he, "If they have slaughtered my liegemen one and all, Then I'm of God forgotten. Poor Dietrich! Lost am I, Who was a king but lately so haughty and so high."

Then further spake the champion, "But how could this have passed? How could such puissant warriors have perish'd to the last By battle-wearied foemen, fainting and need-beset? Sure, but through my ill-fortune they had been living yet.

"Since my hard fate condemns me to suffer every ill, Tell me, of those grim strangers if one be living still." Then answer'd Master Hildebrand, "God knows, their lives not one, Save Hagan and King Gunther; the rest their course have run."

"Ah! woe is me, dear Wolfhart; since thou from me art torn, Well may it repent me that ever I was born. Siegstab, Wolfwine, and Wolfbrand, my true and trusty band! Who back can ever help me to th' Amelungers' land?

"The danger-daring Helfrich, his doom has he too met? Gerbart and valiant Wichart, how can I these forget? My friends are dead together; who so bereft as I? Ah! woe is me, that wretches of grief can never die."