LXXIX
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."
LXXX
"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."
LXXXI
"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!"
LXXXII
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.
LXXXIII