Then for himself Lord Dietrich sought out a suit to wear,
And Master Hildebrand help’d him to don his fighting gear.
So sore was the lamenting made by the stalwart man,
That all the house to echo with his loud voice began.

But quickly he recover’d a fitting hero’s mood,
And grimly was his armour donn’d by that warrior good.
A shield compact right firmly he carried in his hand;⁠—
Then straightway forth he sallied with Master Hildebrand.

Spake Hagen, lord of Tronjé: “I see there, drawing nigh,
The noble warrior Dietrich; for that great injury
That here hath him befallen, he will upon us set.
This day ’twill be discover’d who doth the honours get.

“Ay! to himself Lord Dietrich of Bern doth think that ne’er
His like, so strong of body and terrible there were!
And should he for our doings a reckoning demand,”
So Hagen spake: “against him I dare right well to stand.”

They heard the words of Hagen⁠— Dietrich and Hildebrand.
He came to where the warriors had taken both their stand
Without the house, together, leaning against the hall.
His goodly shield had Dietrich upon its rim let fall.

Then Dietrich spake in answer, grievously sorrowing:
“Why hast thou done in this wise, O Gunther, mighty king,
To me who am a stranger? to thee what had I done?
All comfort that was left me is now for ever gone.

“With that great deed of vengeance ye were not yet content
When Rüdeger the hero to bloody death you sent:
Now have ye taken from me my liegemen everyone;⁠—
Ah! never to your heroes would I such scathe have done.

“Now of yourselves be mindful, and of your own distress,
The death of friends and kinsfolk, your toil and weariness;
Doth it not weigh upon you, good warriors, heavily?
Alas, the death of Rüdeger is bitterness to me!

“In this world never happen’d such woe to anyone.
Ye took but ill account of my sorrow and your own;
By you of all its pleasures my life henceforth is shorn;
In truth I cannot ever my kinsfolk cease to mourn.”

“In sooth,” then answer’d Hagen, “So guilty are we not;
For verily your heroes came marching to this spot
Well-arm’d, for some set purpose, in such large company:
To you methinks the story was not told truthfully.”

“What else should I believe then? ’twas said by Hildebrand
That when my knights besought you⁠— the men of Amelung land⁠—
That you would give them Rüdeger from out the palace-hall,
Naught else but jibes you offer’d to these bold heroes all.”

Then spake the king of Rhineland: “They did their wish avow
Hence Rüdeger to carry; that would I not allow,
To do despite to Etzel, and not to cross your men:
Till Wolfhart words unhandsome began to utter then.”

Then answer’d him the hero of Bern, “So let it be!
Yet Gunther, noble sovran, now of thy courtesy
Repay me for the sorrow that of thy doing came,
And make, bold knight, atonement, that I confirm the same.

“Give up thyself as hostage, thou and thy liegeman there;
Then I myself will guard ye with all my greatest care,
Lest any of the Hunfolk should do ye aught of ill;
In me thou shalt find nothing save faith and all goodwill.”

But Hagen spake in answer: “Now God in Heaven forfend
That any pair of warriors themselves to thee should bend,
Who arm’d as yet so stoutly here stand before thine eyes,
And still are all unfetter’d to face their enemies.”

“Beware, Gunther and Hagen,” then Dietrich answer made,
“How ye refuse my offer! ye twain on me have laid
So sore a load of sorrow⁠— on heart and spirit too;
If ye amends will make me, that may ye cheaply do.

I give you my true promise, and pledge it with my hand,
That I myself will with you ride home unto your land;
I’ll guide you in all honour, or will myself be slain,
And will, the while I serve you, forget my bitter pain.”

“Now think thereon no longer,” Hagen in answer bade,
“ ’Twere not a fitting story about us to be said,
That two such doughty warriors had bow’d to your demand:
One sees beside you standing no one save Hildebrand.”

Then upspake Master Hildebrand: “Sir Hagen, God doth know⁠—
Seeing that one hath offer’d to make a peace with you⁠—
The hour is nigh when fitly the offer you might take:
The peace my lord proposes ’twere well for you to make.”

“I’d sooner make atonement,” in answer Hagen said,
“Ere in such coward fashion from any place I fled
As thou hast done but lately, good Master Hildebrand!
Methought against a foeman thou couldst more boldly stand!”

Old Hildebrand made answer: “Why taunt’st thou me therefor?
Who sat upon his buckler the Vaske-rock before,
While friends of his so many the Spanish Walther slew?
About thyself in plenty are things that one might shew.”

Then spake the noble Dietrich: “It fits not heroes good
To rail at one another as any old wives would.
You, Hildebrand, forbid I to wrangle any more:
On me, a homeless warrior, are weighing troubles sore.

“Come let us hear, Sir Hagen,” to him spake Dietrich then,
“What was it ye were saying, ye ready warriors twain,
When first ye saw me coming to you in armour dight?
Ye vow’d that ye against me would singly stand in fight.”

“That no man will deny you,” thane Hagen made reply,
“And with some sturdy sword-strokes here fain am I to try⁠—
Unless the blade of Niblung within my hand should break:
Wroth am I that you purpose us two in pledge to take.”

When Dietrich thus had hearken’d to savage Hagen’s mood,
Quickly his shield uplifted that gallant thane and good.
How swiftly Hagen toward him down from the stairway sprang!
The goodly sword of Niblung loudly on Dietrich rang.

Then well the noble Dietrich knew that the valiant man
Right ruthless was in humour. The lord of Bern began
Against this deadly onset to guard himself aright;
To him well known was Hagen, that all-accomplish’d knight.

Dread, too, had he of Balmung, a potent sword enow.
From time to time yet Dietrich gave back a wily blow,
Until at last, in fighting, Hagen o’ermaster’d he:
A single wound he dealt him; ’twas deep and long to see.

Bethought him then Lord Dietrich: “Thou’rt weaken’d by the strife,
I should have little honour were I to take thy life.
Sooner will I make trial, if I may thee compel
To be to me a hostage.” With trouble this befell.

He let his shield fall downwards⁠— great was his strength of limb,
And Tronian Hagen clasp’d he close in his arms to him.
And thus was captive taken by him that gallant man;
Whereat the noble Gunther sorely to grieve began.

Then Dietrich led forth Hagen, fast bound, to where her stand
The noble queen had taken; and gave into her hand
The boldest of all warriors that ever weapon bare;⁠—
Then had she joy in plenty for all her bitter care.

For thanks the wife of Etzel unto the thane bent low:
“In heart and eke in body for ever blest be thou!
Now hast thou well repaid me for my unhappy lot;
For this I’ll ever serve thee if death prevent me not.”

Then answer’d the Lord Dietrich: “His life thou e’en must spare,
O noble queen! Then haply thou mayst become aware
How well he will atone for all he hath done to thee!
He must no whit be worsen’d, that him in bonds ye see.”

She bade them carry Hagen to durance vile away,
And there imprison’d straitly unseen of men he lay.
Gunther the noble sovran aloud began to cry:
“Where went that chief of Bern? He hath done me injury.”

Then presently to meet him the noble Dietrich came.
Great was the might of Gunther, and well ’twas known to fame.
Nor did he tarry longer;⁠— before the hall he ran.
From their two weapons’ meeting a dreadful din began.

Albeit that Lord Dietrich great fame long time had had,
So sore was Gunther’s anger he raved like one gone mad;
For deadly foe he held him, so bitter was his pain:
’Tis reckon’d still a marvel that Dietrich was not slain.

So strong and full of valour was either of the twain,
The palace walls and turrets rang with their blows again.
While on the goodly helmets with swords they hack’d and hew’d.
Then, verily, King Gunther, a royal courage shew’d.

Yet he of Bern o’ercame him, as likewise he had done
To Hagen; through the hauberk the hero’s blood to run
Was seen, from that sharp weapon wherewith Sir Dietrich clove.
Yet, weary as was Gunther, he valiantly strove.

Bound was the noble chieftain by Dietrich’s hand alone,
Although a king should never such bonds have undergone.
He thought if he should leave them, the king and vassal, free,
That all on whom they lighted by them fordone must be.

Dietrich of Bern then took him a captive, closely-bound,
And by the hand he led him where he Kriemhilda found.
At sight of his affliction her sorrows greatly waned;
She spake: “Be welcome, Gunther, of the Burgundian land!”

He spake: “I needs must thank thee, most noble sister mine,
Though I would fain a greeting more gracious have than thine!
O queen, well do I know thee, how wrathful is thy mood,
And that for me and Hagen thou hast no greeting good.”

Of Bern then spake the hero: “Never, most noble queen,
Knights of such fair demeanour, your hostages have been
As these, most gracious lady, whom now to you I give:
See that ye let the strangers for my sake safely live.”

She vow’d to do it gladly: so the Lord Dietrich came⁠—
His eyes with tears o’erflowing⁠— from those two chiefs of fame.
Soon vengeance sore upon them was wreak’d by Etzel’s wife:
Of both these chosen warriors she took away the life.

Her evil mood obeying, apart she made them lie,
That neither on the other from that time forth set eye,
Until in front of Hagen her brother’s head she laid.
On both of them Kriemhilda her vengeance well repaid.

For first the queen betook her where she might Hagen see:
And spake unto the warrior⁠— how full of enmity!
“What thou from me hast taken if thou again wilt give,
Then home thou yet mayst journey to Burgundy alive.”

But Hagen grim made answer: “You throw your words away,
Most noble queen, for truly I’ve sworn, and now I say
The treasure I will show not, so long as either one
Be living of my masters;⁠— I’ll yield it up to none.”

“Then will I end the matter!” so spake the noble wife,
And forthwith bade her liegemen to take her brother’s life.
They struck his head from off him, which by the hair she bore
Before the Tronian hero; then was his grief full sore.

For when, with sorrow stricken, he saw his master’s head,
Thereon unto Kriemhilda the warrior spake and said:
“E’en as thou saidst, the matter thou hast to ending brought,
And likewise all hath happen’d as I beforehand thought.

“And now the noble sovran of Burgundy is not,
Nor Giselher the stripling, and eke the Lord Gernot,
None knoweth of the treasure save God and me alone:
And unto thee, she-devil, it never shall be known!”

Said she: “An evil guerdon dost thou to me award;
Yet in mine own possession I will have Siegfried’s sword,
Which my belovèd husband, when last I saw him, bare
That day when, by your doing, began my heartfelt care.”

She drew it from the scabbard⁠— he could not hinder her⁠—
And of his life bethought her to rid that warrior.
With both her hands she swung it, and smote his head right off:
King Etzel saw her do it, his grief was sore enough.

The prince cried: “Woe betide me, lo! now, how here is slain,
And by a woman’s doing, the very noblest thane
That ever came to battle, or ever buckler bore!
Albeit I was his foeman I could not sorrow more!”

Old Hildebrand cried: “Truly she shall no gainer be
That she hath dared to slay him! Whate’er befalleth me,
Although myself but lately to direst straits he brought,
For this brave Tronian’s murder I’ll yet have vengeance wrought.”

Then Hildebrand right wrathful upon Kriemhilda leapt,
And at the queen with broadsword a heavy stroke he swept.
Ay, Hildebrand she dreaded with sore anxiety.
But what could it avail her to shriek thus horribly?

The bodies of the slaughter’d were lying all around;
And there the noble lady lay mangled on the ground.
Dietrich along with Etzel fell bitterly to weep;
For kinsmen and for lieges they mourn’d in sorrow deep.

There mickle pride and honour in death dishonour’d lay.
The people all were stricken with pity and dismay.
In sorrowing was ended the king’s high festival⁠—
As loving ever endeth in sorrow after all.

I cannot tell you plainly what later may have been,
Save that in bitter weeping were knights and ladies seen⁠—
And noble liegemen also⁠— for friends beloved laid low.
The story now is ended: this is the Niblungs’ woe.