With rapid blows and furious / the son of Ute fair
Received the valiant Wolfhart / as came he to him there.
How strong soe'er the thane was, / his life must ended be.
Never king so youthful / might bear himself more valiantly.
Straight he smote Wolfhart / through well-made cuirass,
That from the wound all gaping / the flowing blood did pass.
Unto death he wounded / Dietrich's liegeman true,
Which thing in sooth might never / any save knight full gallant do.
When the valiant Wolfhart / of the wound was ware,
His shield flung he from him / and high with hand in air
Raised he a mighty weapon / whose keen edge failéd not.
Through helmet and through mail-rings / Giselher with might he smote.
Grimly each the other / there to death had done.
Of Dietrich's men no longer / lived there ever one.
When old Master Hildebrand / Wolfhart's fall had seen,
In all his life there never / such sorrow him befell, I ween.
Fallen now were Gunther's / warriors every one,
And eke the men of Dietrich. / Hildebrand the while had gone
Where Wolfhart had fallen / down in pool of blood.
In his arms then clasped he / the warrior of dauntless mood.