Etzel; for the legend was not troubled by the fact that Attila was dead before Theodoric was born. Bern is the name given to Verona, and legend saw Theodoric's castle in that most beautiful of Roman amphitheatres, where the traveller still may sit and meditate on many things. It is told also that Theodoric recovered his kingdom in the legendary Rabenschlacht fought by Ravenna's walls. Old Hildebrand was his master-at-arms, who had fled with him. In the Nibelungen it is he that cuts down Kriemhild, Etzel's queen, before the monarch's eyes; for he could not endure that a woman's hand had slain Gunther and Hagen, whom, exhausted at last, Dietrich's strength had set before her helpless and bound. And now, after years of absence, he has recrossed the mountains with his king come to claim his kingdom, and before the armies he challenges the champion of the opposing host. Here the Old German poem, which is called the Hildebrandslied, takes up the story:
"Hildebrand spoke, the wiser man, and asked as to the other's father—'Or tell me of what race art thou; 'twill be enough; every one in the realm is known to me.'
"Hadubrand spoke, Hildebrand's son: 'Our people, the old and knowing of them, tell me Hildebrand was my father's name; mine is Hadubrand. Aforetime he fled to the east, from Otacher's hate, fled with Dietrich and his knights. He left wife to mourn, and ungrown child. Dietrich's need called him. He was always in the front; fighting was dear to him. I do not believe he is alive.'
"'God forbid, from heaven above, that thou shouldst wage fight with so near kin.' He took from his arm the ring given by the king, lord of the Huns. 'Lo! I give it thee graciously.'
"Hadubrand spoke: 'With spear alone a man receives gift, point against point. Too cunning art thou, old Hun. Beguiling me with words thou wouldst thrust me with thy spear. Thou art so old thou hast a trick in store. Seafaring men have told me Hildebrand is dead.'
"Hildebrand spoke: 'O mighty God, a drear fate happens. Sixty summers and winters, ever placed by men among the spearmen, I have so borne myself that bane got I never. Now shall my own child smite me with the sword, or I be his death.'"
There is a break here in the poem; but the uncontrolled son evidently taunted the father with cowardice. The old warrior cries:
