By hand then grasped each, other / doughty warriors twain:
Hight the one was Dietrich, / with Hagen, noble thane.
Then spake in courteous manner / that knight of high degree:
"That ye are come to Hunland, / 'tis very sorrow unto me;
"For what hath here been spoken / by the lofty queen."
Then spake of Tronje Hagen: / "Small cause to grieve, I ween."
Held converse thus together / those brave warriors twain,
King Etzel which perceiving / thus a questioning began:
"I would learn full gladly," / —in such wise spake he—
"Who were yonder warrior, / to whom so cordially
Doth greeting give Sir Dietrich. / Meseemeth high his mood.
Whosoe'er his sire, / a thane he is of mettle good."
Unto the king gave answer / of Kriemhild's train a knight:
"Born he was of Tronje, / Aldrian his sire hight.
How merry here his bearing, / a thane full grim is he.
That I have spoken truly, / shalt thou anon have cause to see."
"How may I then perceive it / that fierce his wrath doth glow?"
Naught of basest treachery / yet the king did know,
That anon Queen Kriemhild / 'gainst her kinsmen did contrive,
Whereby returned from Hunland / not one of all their train alive.