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1991

He spake: " Full noble Dietrich, / what here on thee is wrought
By any of my warriors? / For truly is my thought
To make a full atonement / and amends to thee.
If here hath wronged thee any, / 'twere cause of mickle grief to me. "

1992

Then answered him Sir Dietrich: / " Myself do nothing grieve.
Grant me with thy protection / but this hall to leave
And quit the dire conflict, / with them that me obey.
Then surely will I ever / seek thy favor to repay. "

1993

" How plead'st thou thus so early? " / Wolfhart was heard;
" The Fiddler so securely / the door not yet hath barred,
But it so wide we'll open / to pass it through, I trow. "
" Now hold thy peace, " quoth Dietrich, / " wrought but little here hast thou. "

1994

Then spake the royal Gunther: / " That grant I thee to do,
Forth from the hall lead many / or lead with thee few,
An if my foes it be not; / here stay they every one.
Upon me here in Hunland / hath grievous wrong by them been done. "

1995

When heard he Gunther's answer / he took beneath his arm
The noble Queen Kriemhild, / who dreaded mickle harm.
On the other side too led he / Etzel with him away;
Eke went thence with Dietrich / six hundred knights in fair array.

1996

Then outspake the margrave, / the noble Ruediger:
" If leave to any others / be granted forth to fare,
Of those who glad would serve you, / give us the same to see.
Yea, peace that's never broken / 'twixt friends 'tis meet should ever be. "

1997

Thereto gave answer Giselher / of the land of Burgundy:
" Peace and unbroken friendship / wish we e'er with thee,
With thee and all thy kinsmen, / as true thou ever art.
We grant thee all untroubled / with thy friends from hence to part. "

1998

When thus Sir Ruediger / from the hall did pass,
A train of knights five hundred / or more with him there was,
Of them of Bechelaren, / kinsmen and warriors true,
Whose parting gave King Gunther / anon full mickle cause to rue.

1999

When did a Hunnish warrior / Etzel's passing see
'Neath the arm of Dietrich, / to profit him thought he.
Smote him yet the Fiddler / such a mighty blow,
That 'fore the feet of Etzel / sheer on the floor his head fell low.

2000

When the country's monarch / had gained the outer air,
Turned he looking backward / and gazed on Volker.
" Alack such guests to harbor! / Ah me discomfited!
That all the knights that serve me / shall before their might lie dead.

2001

" Alack their coming hither! " / spake the king once more.
" Within, a warrior fighteth / like to wild forest boar;
Hight the same is Volker, / and a minstrel is also;
To pass the demon scatheless / I to fortune's favor owe.

2002

" Evil sound his melodies, / his strokes of bow are red,
Yea, beneath his music / full many a knight lies dead.
I know not what against us / hath stirred that player's ire,
For guests ne'er had I any / whereby to suffer woe so dire. "

2003

None other would they suffer / to pass the door than those.
Then 'neath the hall's high roof-tree / a mighty din arose.
For evil wrought upon them / those guests sore vengeance take.
Volker the doughty Fiddler, / what shining helmets there he brake!

2004

Gunther, lofty monarch, / thither turned his ear.
" Hear'st thou the music, Hagen / that yonder Volker
Doth fiddle for the Hun-men, / when near the door they go?
The stroke is red of color, / where he doth draw the fiddle-bow. "

2005

" Mickle doth it rue me, " / Hagen spake again,
" That in the hall far severed / I am from that bold thane.
I was his boon companion / and he sworn friend to me:
Come we hence ever scatheless, / trusty feres we yet shall be.

2006

" Behold now, lofty sire, / the faith of Volker bold!
With will he seeks to win him / thy silver and thy gold.
With fiddle-bow he cleaveth / e'en the steel so hard,
Bright-gleaming crests of helmets / are scattered by his mighty sword.

2007

" Never saw I fiddler / so dauntless heart display,
As the doughty Volker / here hath done this day.
Through shield and shining helmet / his melodies ring clear;
Give him to ride good charger / and eke full stately raiment wear. "

2008

Of all the Hunnish kindred / that in the hall had been,
None now of all their number / therein to fight was seen.
Hushed was the din of battle / and strife no more was made:
From out their hands aweary / their swords the dauntless warriors laid.
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