With that, the bold Burgundian, fair Uta's youngest, cried, "Why do you thus, Sir Rudeger? my friends here by my side All love you, e'en as I do; why kindle strife so wild? 'Tis ill so soon to widow your late-betrothed child. LVI "Should you now and your followers wage war upon me here, How cruel and unfriendly 'twill to the world appear! For more than on all others on you I still relied, And took, through such affiance, your daughter for my bride." LVII "Fair king! thy troth remember," the blameless knight 'gan say, "Should God be pleas'd in safety to send thee hence away. Let not the maiden suffer for aught that I do ill. By your own princely virtue vouchsafe her favor still." LVIII "That will I do and gladly," the youthful knight replied, "But should my high-born kinsmen, who here within abide, Once die by thee, no longer could I thy friend be styl'd; My constant love 'twould sever from thee and from thy child." LIX "Then God have mercy on us!" the valiant margrave said. At once their shields they lifted, and forward fiercely sped In the hall of Kriemhild to force the stranger crowd. Thereat down from the stair-head Sir Hagan shouted loud, LX "Tarry yet a little, right noble Rudeger! I and my lords a moment would yet with you confer; Thereto hard need compels us, and danger gathering nigh; What boot were it for Etzel though here forlorn we die? LXI "I'm now," pursued Sir Hagan, "beset with grievous care; The shield that Lady Gotelind gave me late to bear, Is hewn and all-to broken by many a Hunnish brand. I brought it fair and friendly hither to Etzel's land. LXII "Ah! that to me this favor heaven would be pleas'd to yield That I might to defend me bear so well-prov'd a shield, As that, right noble Rudeger, before thee now display'd! No more should I in battle need then the hauberk's aid." LXIII "Fain with the same I'd serve thee to th' height of thy desire, But that I fear, such proffer might waken Kriemhild's ire. Still, take it to thee, Hagan, and wield it well in hand. Ah! might'st thou bring it with thee to thy Burgundian land!" LXIV While thus with words so courteous so fair a gift he sped, The eyes of many a champion with scalding tears were red. 'Twas the last gift, that buckler, e'er given to comrade dear By the Lord of Bechlaren, the blameless Rudeger. LXV However stern was Hagan, and of unyielding mood, Still at the gift he melted, which one so great and good Gave in his last few moments, e'en on the eve of fight, And with the stubborn warrior mourn'd many a noble knight. LXVI "Now God in heaven, good Rudeger, thy recompenser be! Your like on earth, I'm certain, we never more shall see, Who gifts so good and gorgeous to homeless wanderers give. May God protect your virtue, that it may ever live! LXVII