then sat them down the warriors to rest them toil-forspent.

but forth of the feast-hall doorway volker and hagen went;

and leaning upon their bucklers, as in scorn of foes without,

spake they together, casting at the hunfolk gibe and flout.

then cried the prince burgundian, giselher the thane:

“we may not, o friends belovèd, resting longer remain.

we must needs first hale the corpses forth of the palace-hall;

for our foes, i say of a surety, again upon us will fall.

nowise it befitteth that longer clogging our feet they lie.

ere the foe in the storm of battle from us wrest victory,

deep wounds will we hew full many, and sweet is the thought unto me;

yea, my heart is set on the war-feast,” said giselher, “steadfastly.”

“glad am i that such a war-lord i have!” cried hagen the grim.

“this counsel well beseemeth no meaner knight than him,

but such an one as the young prince hath proved him to-day in your sight:

and for this, o thanes burgundian, blithe be your hearts and light!”

then did they after his counsel, and out through the door they drew

seven thousand slain men’s corpses, and forth of the palace threw.

afront of the steps they hurled them adown to the court below.

then wailed from the friends of the slaughtered lamentation and mourning and woe.

there was many a man among them whose hurts were not so sore,

but that soon, had he gentle tendance, he were whole again as before,

who yet found death all swiftly, hurled from that cruel height.

loudly their kin lamented who saw that pitiful sight.

then shouted the viol-minstrel, the champion dauntless-souled:

“now well do i see how truly the tale unto me was told

{p. 276}

that this is a land of cravens: like women they wail, these huns,

they who should now be tending the battle-stricken ones!”

then it seemed to a lord of the marches that he spake not in scoffing mood;

and that same lord had a kinsman there fallen in his blood;

and he thought from the carnage to bear him, and his arms around him he threw;

but the minstrel with a javelin hurled at him, and slew.

then back from the stairway fled they who in hope had been drawing near,

cursing the viol-minstrel in the impotent fury of fear.

then caught up volker a javelin, stubborn-shafted and keen:

shot by one of the hunfolk against himself had it been.

across the court he sped it, putting his might to the cast,

that it flew o’er their heads fierce-singing; and etzel’s men were aghast,

as he warned them to safer standing, from the hall-door far away.

at his matchless might all people were thrilled with sore dismay.

before that hall with etzel in thousands the hunfolk stood.

and now did volker and hagen in scornful-reckless mood

set them to gall the hun-king, and with bitter taunts to defy.

ere long grim retribution on the heroes came thereby.

“it were well,” cried hagen, “to hearten the folk in the evil day,

that the lords of the land should battle in the forefront of the fray,

even as this day battle those true men, even my lords:

they hew the helmets asunder, blood flieth to meet their swords.”

no battle-blencher was etzel: he grasped in wrath and pride

his shield—“risk not at their bidding thine own life!” kriemhild cried.

“nay, offer thy shield gold-brimming for a champion of thy war-band.

if thou close with yonder hagen, death standeth at thy right hand.”

yet the king was a knight so fearless that he would not refrain from the strife—

sooth, now such mighty princes more dearly tender their life!—

their lord from the fray by his shield-band his servants needs must hale.

then with grim laughter hagen again at the king ’gan rail:

{p. 277}

“good sooth, ’tis a far-away kinship,” he cried with bitter jeer,

“that hath drawn this etzel and siegfried each unto other so near!

he wantoned with yonder kriemhild or ever she looked on thee!

what ho, king etzel the craven, what grudge hast thou against me?”

in the ears of the great queen tingled the scoffer’s every word:

black grew the heart of kriemhild at the thought that his taunt was heard

of all those vassals of etzel, when he dared to make her a jest;

and she set her once more to enkindle her champions against that guest.

she cried: “whosoever will smite me yon hagen of troneg dead,

and bring for a trophy hither and cast at my feet his head,

for him the shield of etzel will i fill with gold to the brim,

yea also, castles for guerdon and land will i give unto him.”

“i wot not why these falter,” the viol-minstrel said.

“never have i seen heroes stand so sorely adread,

when offered in all men’s hearing is all that wealth of gold.

of a truth, never more will etzel unto these be gracious-souled.

these things of shame and scorning, on the bread of the king they feed,

and behold, they now forsake him in the stress of his sorest need!

of such i behold full many: utterly cowed are they—

and they name them heroes!—branded are they with contempt for aye!”

(c) the heart of etzel the mighty was shaken with grief and groan:

for his kin and his perished liegemen did he make bitter moan.

from many a land around him stood knights on every side,

and wept with the king for the sorrow of that heavy festal tide.

(c) once more the aweless volker set him to gibe and jeer:

“warriors i see full many with false tears weeping here;

but little do they for the helping of their king in his evil case.

they eat the bread of their master to their shame and confusion of face!”

(c) and their best in their hearts acknowledged, “that volker saith is truth.”

and of all that throng was no man more stung with shame and ruth

than iring, lord of the marches, a knight from the land of the dane;

and in sooth in no long season he proved it in battle-strain.