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Walther leads the army of the Huns to victory in battle (170–214)

Meanwhile, a definite report came from a satrap: 170
That tribe which recently was conquered was rebelling,
Prepared to wage immediate war against the Huns.
The conduct of affairs is placed in Walter’s hands.
He quickly mustered all the troops in battle ranks
And fortified the hearts within his warriors, 175
Exhorting then to think always of former triumphs,
And vowing he, with his accustomed bravery,
Would slay those tyrants, terrorize the foreign lands.
Without delay, he sets out; all the army follows.
Now he surveyed the battle site and then deployed 180
His battle-line, arrayed to fight, through fields and plains.
Within a spear’s throw of each other stand the two
Assembled armies; from both sides a noise arises
Into the air: the trumpets blare their awful sound;
At once from everywhere dense clouds of weapons fly. 185
Now ash and cornel-wood joined in a single game.
The lance, once hurled, would flash just like a lightning bolt.
Just as the snow swirls thickly in the winter time,
Not otherwise the warriors cast their savage weapons.
At last, when every javelin from both the lines 190
Was thrown, then every hand is reaching for a sword.
They draw their flashing blades and swing their shields around;
At length, the battle lines converge, renew the fray.
Some of the horses charge and shatter breast to breast;
Some of the riders are unhorsed by a hard shield. 195
Among the warring host, however, Walter rages;
He surges forward, hacking down all in his path.
His foes, when they observe what slaughter he deals out,
As if afraid to see their death so close at hand,
Whatever place that Walter sought, to right or left, 200
Immediately all fling their shields across their backs,
Let loose their horses’ reins, turn tail and flee away.
Then copying their chief, the mighty tribe of Huns,
More fierce, advances and, more bold, extends the carnage;
It cuts down those resisting, slaughters those who run 205
Until it gains full victory in the lot of war.
Then rushing to the corpses it despoils them all.
At last the leader calls the troops with his curved horn;
And he was first to bind his brows with festive leaves,
In public wreathe his temples with triumphant laurel; 210
The standard-bearers after him, and then the others.
And now, bound with triumphal garlands, they returned.
Once in the homeland, each went to his dwelling place,
But Walter hastened to the royal throne at once.

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Note: this English text is identical to that found in Waltharius and Ruodlieb, edited and translated by Dennis M. Kratz. The Garland library of medieval literature, Series A, vol. 14. New York: Garland Pub., 1984.