...eagerly she (sc. Hildegund) encouraged him:
Weland's handiwork in very truth will fail
no man who can wield the sharp Mimming:
many a time has warrior after warrior fallen in the fray,
5 pierced by the sword and weltering in his blood.
And in this hour, champion of Attila, let not thy prowess
yield, thy kingly courage fail.
Now is the day come
when thou, son of Aelfhere, must
10 lose thy life, or else win
lasting glory among men.
Never will I taunt thee with reproachful words, o lover mine,
that in the clash of swords I have seen thee
yield in craven fashion on the onset of any man,
15 nor flee to the wall
to save thy life, though many a foeman
smote thy corselet with his sword;
but ever didst thou strive to press home
thy martial suit: therefore I trembled for thy fate,
20 for that too fiercely thou didst attack
thy warlike adversary on the field of battle.
Win honour for thyself
by noble deeds and till then may God protect thee!
Have no care for that sword: a peerless treasure is
25 vouchsafed to thee to help us in our time of trouble; wherewith thou shalt
humble Guthhere's pride, in that he
unjustly began the strife against thee.
He refused the sword and the casket of treasure
with its many rings: now ringless he shall
30 leave this combat and return to the land
of which he has long been lord, or perish here
if he...

...a better (sword)
save that one which I too have
laid at rest in its jewelled sheath.
I know that Theodric was minded to send it to Widia
5 himself and much costly treasure
with that blade and much beside it
deck with gold: Nithhad's kinsman
Widia, the son of Weland, received the reward
that had long been due for rescuing him from captivity:
10 through the giant's domain Theodric hastened forth.
Then spake Waldere, the daring warrior,--
in his hand he grasped his trenchant blade,
a comfort in the fray,--with defiant words:
Ha, friend of the Burgundians, didst thou deem in very truth
15 that Hagen's hand had done battle with me
and brought my days of combat to a close? Fetch, if thou darest,
the grey corselet from me am exhausted by the fray!
Here it lies on my shoulders, even the heirloom of Aelfhere,
good and broad-bossed and decked with gold,
20 in every wise a glorious garment for a prince
to wear, whose hand protects
the treasure of his life against his foes. Never will it play me false,
when faithless kinsmen return to the attack
and beset me with their swords as ye have done.
25 Yet victory can be given by Him who is always
prompt and regardful of everything that is good.
For whosoever trusts in the Holy One for help,
in God for succour, finds it ready to his hand,
if first he be determined to deserve it.
30 Thus can the great distribute their wealth
and rule their possessions: that is...

Translated by Bruce Dickins (Runic and Heroic Poems).