gan ask Gunther's men: "Alas, good heroes, what had Rudeger done
you? My Lord Dietrich hath sent me hither to you to say, that if the
hand of any among you hath slain the noble margrave, as we are told, we
could never stand such mighty dole."

Then spake Hagen of Troneg: "The tale is true. How gladly could I wish,
that the messenger had told you false, for Rudeger's sake, and that he
still did live, for whom both man and wife may well ever weep."

When they heard aright that he was dead, the warriors made wail for
him, as their fealty bade them. Over the beards and chins of Dietrich's
champions the tears were seen to run. Great grief had happened to them.

Siegstab, (3) the Duke of Berne, then spake: "Now hath come to an end
the cheer, that Rudeger did give us after our days of dole. The joy of
all wayfaring folk lieth slain by you, sir knights."

Then spake the Knight Wolfwin (4) of the Amelungs: "And I saw mine own
father dead to-day, I should not make greater dole, than for his death.
Alas, who shall now comfort the good margrave's wife?"

Angry of mood Knight Wolfhart spake: "Who shall now lead the warriors
to so many a fight, as the margrave so oft hath done? Alas, most noble
Rudeger, that we should lose thee thus!"

Wolfbrand (5) and Helfrich and Helmnot, too, with all their men bewailed
his death. For sighing Hildebrand might no longer ask a whit. He spake:
"Sir knights, now do what my lord hath sent you here to do. Give us
the corse of Rudeger from out the hall, in whom our joy hath turned to
grief, and let us repay to him the great fealty he hath shown to us and
to many another man. We, too, be exiles, just as Rudeger, the knight.
Why do ye let us wait thus? Let us bear him away, that we may yet
requite the knight in death. More justly had we done it, when he was
still alive."

Then spake King Gunther: "Never was there so good a service as that,
which a friend doth do to a friend after his death. When any doeth that,
I call it faithful friendship. Ye repay him but rightly, for much love
hath he ever shown you."

"How long shall we still beseech?" spake Knight Wolfhart. "Sith our best
hope hath been laid low in death by you, and we may no longer have him
with us, let us bear him hence to where the warrior may be buried."

To this Folker made answer: "None will give him to you. Fetch ye him
from the hall where the warrior lieth, fallen in the blood, with mortal
wounds. 'Twill then be a perfect service, w