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Then from the king one saw him depart in mournful mood.

And to his warriors turning, who close beside him stood,

He spake: “To don your armour ’tis time, my liegemen all,

On yonder brave Burgundians, alas! I needs must fall.”

They bade their folk then hasten to where their arms were found,—

Haply it were a helmet, or else a buckler round,—

Whate’er it was they wanted, their servants brought the same

Ere long the baleful tidings to the proud exiles came.

So Rüdeger in armour with men five hundred went,

Besides a dozen warriors who help unto him lent.

These would the meed of valour win in the stormy fray;—

They had but little warning that death so near them lay.

Then Rüdeger in helmet one saw march on before;

Keen-edged were all the weapons the margrave’s liegemen bore

And broad the shining bucklers upon their arms as well.

’Twas all seen by the fiddler: sore ruth upon him fell.

Young Giselher beheld, too, the father of his bride

With fast-bound helmet marching. That this could aught betide

Save what was good and friendly, how could he then forbode

The noble prince was therefore exceeding glad of mood.

“Now suchlike friends be welcome,” said Giselher the thane

“Which we upon our journey have had the luck to gain.

Of my betrothéd lady we’ll profit here right well:

I’m glad, upon my honour, this plighting e’er befell.”