"Now tell me, Master Hildebrand, / how thus wet thou be
From thy life-blood flowing, / or who so harmeth thee.
In hall against the strangers / thou'st drawn thy sword, I ween.
'Twere well my straight denial / here by these had honored been."
Replied he to his master: / "From Hagen cometh all.
This deep wound he smote me / there within the hall
When I from his fury / thought to turn away.
'Tis marvel that I living / saved me from the fiend this day."
Then of Bern spake Dietrich: / "Aright hast thou thy share,
For thou didst hear me friendship / unto these knights declare,
And now the peace hast broken, / that I to them did give.
If my disgrace it were not, / by this hand no longer shouldst thou live."
"Now be not, Master Dietrich, / so sorely stirred to wrath.
On me and on my kinsmen / is wrought too great a scathe.
Thence sought we Ruediger / to bear all peacefully,
The which by men of Gunther / to us no whit would granted be."
"Ah, woe is me for sorrow! / Is Ruediger then dead,
In all my need there never / such grief hath happenéd.
The noble Gotelinde / is cousin fair to me.
Alack for the poor orphans / that there in Bechelaren must be!"