LX
With that, the young Sir Giselher to the stern warrior cried,
"Woe's me that I should ever so fierce a foe abide!
Noble knight and fearless, turn thee now to me.
I'll help to end this matter; it must no longer be."
LXI
Wolfhart turn'd on Giselher soon as thus defied;
Each in that grim battle wounds cut gaping wide.
Upon the king fierce rushing so forcefully he sped,
The blood beneath his trampling flew high above his head.
LXII
The bold son of fair Uta with many a rapid blow
Received the furious onset of his redoubted foe;
Huge as was Wolfhart's puissance, boot it none could bring.
Ne'er was so brave a battle fought by so young a king.
LXIII
At last through the good hauberk he smote Sir Dietrich's man,
That the blood, out-spurting, down in a torrent ran.
So to the death he wounded that high o'erweening one.
'Twas sure a peerless champion who such a deed had done.
LXIV
Soon as fearless Wolfhart felt the deadly pain,
Down he dropp'd his buckler; with fierce hand amain
His huge sharp-cutting broadsword higher he heav'd in air;
Through helm at once and hauberk then smote he Giselher.