And now the knightly Hartmut is death from Wâ-te fearing.
If I should lose my brother, bereft of kindred, nought could life be cheering.
[1481]
“Reward the love I’ve shown you,” said the Norman maid.
“Of all that saw your sorrow, when none a tear did shed,
I then alone was friendly, and had you in my keeping;
For all the wrongs they did you, I the livelong day for you was weeping.”
[1482]
Queen Hilda’s daughter answered: “Thou wast indeed my friend;
But yet this strife so deadly I know not how to end.