“Wilt thou be up and riding?” outspoke Duke Amelung; “Beware! since _one_ should meet thee—a rider brave and young. Right by the Berner market—the brave Sir Alebrand; If twelve men‘s strength were in thee, he‘d throw thee to the sand!” “And doth he scorn the country in such a haughty mood? I‘ll cleave in twain his buckler—‘twill do him little good; I‘ll cleave in twain his armor with a resistless blow, Which for a long year after shall cause his mother woe.” Outspoke of Bern, Sir Dietrich, “now let that counsel be, And slay him not, old hero, but take advice from me: Speak gently to the Ritter, a kind word soonest mends; And let your path be peaceful, so shall ye both be friends!” And as he reached the garden, right by the mart of Berne; There came against him riding, a warrior fierce and stern. A brave young knight in armor, against Sir Hildebrand; “What seekest thou, old Ritter, in this, thy father‘s land?” “Thou bearest splendid armor, like one of royal kind; So bright thy glit‘ering corselet, mine eyes are stricken blind; Thou, who at home should‘st rest thee, and shun a warrior‘s stroke, And slumber by the fireside,” the old man laughed and spoke. “Should _I_ at firesides rest me, and nurse me well at home, Full many a fight awaits me, to many a field I‘ll come. In many a rattling foray, shall I be known and feared; Believe my word, thou youngster, ’twas thus I blanched my beard.” “That beard will I tear from thee, though great may be thy pain. Until the blood-drops trickling, have sprinkled all the plain; Thy fair green shield and armor, must thou resign to me, Than seek the town, contented my prisoner to be. “My armor and my fair green shield have warded many a blow; I trust that God in Heaven still will guard me from my foe.” No more they spoke together, but grasped their weapons keen, And what the two most longed for, soon came to pass, I ween! With glittering sword, the younger struck such a sudden blow, That with its force the warrior, Sir Hildebrand, bent low; The youth in haste recoiling, sprang twelve good steps behind, “Such leaps,” exclaimed the gray-beard, “were learned of womankind.” “Had I learned ought of woman, it were to me a shame, Within my father‘s castle are many knights of fame; Full many knights and riders about my father throng, And what as yet, I know not, I trust to learn ere long.” Sir Hildebrand was cunning, the old gray bearded man, For when the youth uplifted, beneath his sword he ran; Around the Ritter‘s girdle his arms he tightly bound, And on the ground he cast him—there lies he on the ground!