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Thereon the stalwart Gernot made answer to the king:

“So then may God incline you to do a friendly thing!

An ye must slay us strangers, then let us come to you

From here unto the open. Thus honour bids you do.

“Whate’er to us may happen, be it done out of hand!

So many whole men have ye who us will dare withstand,

That none of us, strife-weary, alive they’ll let away.

For how long are we warriors in this distress to stay?”

The warriors of Etzel would have agreed thereto

That they outside the palace be granted leave to go.

But when Kriemhilda heard it, sorely aggrieved was she.

Then for the outcast strangers no hope of peace could be.

“Nay, nay, ye Hunnish warriors, the thing ye have in thought,—

In good faith I advise ye— see that ye do it not.

These murder-wreaking fellows let not without the hall,

Else shall right deadly sorrows upon your kinsmen fall.

“Though not another living save Uté’s sons there were—

These same, my noble brothers— and they but to the air

Came out to cool their hauberks, your hope were all forlorn;—

More valiant warriors never into this world were born.”

Then Giselher, the youngest, said: “Fairest sister mine,

Right ill I did to trust you, when from beyond the Rhine

Unto this land thou bad’st me into this direful strait.

How have I from the Hunsfolk deserved this cruel fate?