Yea, unto death was stricken Dietrich’s vassal-knight:—
None save a battle-champion had wrought such a deed of might!
Wolfhart knew it his death-wound, but the hero undismayed
Cast from his arm his buckler; his adamant-tempered blade,
His sword of the edge all-cleaving, in both hands high did he swing,
And he smote the son of Uta through helm and through hauberk-ring.
Death-stricken each by other down fell they side by side;
By one grim doom that liegeman of Dietrich and Giselher died.
Hildebrand, that grey warrior, saw Wolfhart overthrown:
Of a truth, through all his life-days such pain had he never known.