“Death hath despoiled us sore,” said Giselher the youth. “Stop your weeping, and go out to the air, that we strife-weary ones may cool our harness. God will not let us live longer, I ween.”
They that were without saw them sitting, or leaning and taking their rest. Rudeger’s men were all slain; the din was hushed. The silence endured so long that Etzel was angered, and the king’s wife cried, “Woe is me for this treason. They speak too long. The bodies of our foemen are left unscathed by Rudeger’s hand. He plotteth to guide them back to Burgundy. What doth it profit us, King Etzel, that we have shared all our wealth with him? The knight hath done falsely. He that should have avenged us cometh to terms with them.”
But Folker, the valiant warrior, answered her, “Alack! it is not so, noble queen. If I might give the lie to one so high-born as thou art, thou hast foully slandered Rudeger. Sorry terms have he and his knights made with us. With such good will he did the king’s bidding, that he and his men all lie dead. Look round thee for another, Kriemhild, to obey thee. Rudeger served thee till his death. If thou doubtest, thou mayest see for thyself.”
To her grief they did it. They brought the mangled hero where Etzel saw him. Never were Etzel’s knights so doleful. When the dead Margrave was held up before them, none could write or tell all the bitter wailing whereby women and men alike uttered their heart’s dole. Etzel’s woe was so great that the sound of his lamentation was as a lion’s roar. Loud wept his wife. They mourned good Rudeger bitterly.
Thirty-Eighth Adventure
How Dietrich’s Knights Were All Slain
So loud they wept on all sides, that palace and towers echoed with the sound. One of Dietrich’s men of Bern heard it, and hasted with the news.
He said to the prince, “Hearken, Sir Dietrich. Never in my life heard I such wail as this. Methinketh the king himself hath joined the hightide. How else should all the folk make such dole. Either the king or Kriemhild—one of them at the least—have the guests killed through hate. The valiant warriors weep bitterly.”
The prince of Bern answered, “Judge not so hastily, my good men. What the stranger knights have done, sore peril hath constrained them to. Let it boot them now that I sware peace to them.”
But bold Wolfhart said, “I will go and ask what they have done, and will tell thee, dear master, when I know the truth.”
Sir Dietrich answered, “When a knight is wroth, if one question him roughly, his anger is soon kindled. I would not have thee meddle therein, Wolfhart.”