The noble monarchs' uncle, / Bishop Pilgrim that was,
Full joyous-hearted was he / that through the land did pass
With train of lusty warriors / his royal nephews three.
That willing was his service, / waited they not long to see.
To greet them on their journey / did friends lack no device,
Yet not to lodge them fully / might Passau's bounds suffice.
They must across the water / where spreading sward they found,
And lodge and tent erected / soon were stretching o'er the ground.
Nor from that spot they onward / might journey all that day,
And eke till night was over, / for pleasant was their stay.
Next to the land of Ruediger / must they in sooth ride on,
To whom full soon the story / of their coming eke was known.
When fitting rest had taken / the knights with travel worn,
And of Etzel's country / they had reached the bourn,
A knight they found there sleeping / that ne'er should aught but wake,
From whom of Tronje Hagen / in stealth a mighty sword did take.
Hight in sooth was Eckewart / that same valiant knight.
For what was there befallen / was he in sorry plight,
That by those heroes' passing / he had lost his sword.
At Ruediger's marches / found they meagre was the guard.