I

Then loudly shouted Iring the Danish margrave strong,
"I've shap'd my course in honor, and aim'd at glory long,
And ever have in battle borne me like a knight,
So bring me now my harness, and I'll with Hagan fight."

II

"That I scarce would counsel," in scorn Sir Hagan cried.
"Bid the knights of Hungary stand farther yet aside,
Let two or three together then leap into the hall,
Back wounded down the staircase I'll dash them one and all."

III

"I'll not renounce my challenge," Iring stern replied,
"Ere now have I, and often, such hard adventures tried.
Now sword to sword I'll meet thee; let ruth aside be flung!
What boots thy haughty passion, and valor of the tongue?"

IV

Then at once Sir Iring arm'd him for the fight,
And Irnfried or ThÜringia, a young and lusty knight,
And the large-limb'd Hawart with a thousand in his train;
All sought to vouch the quarrel of that redoubted Dane.

V

Soon as the dauntless minstrel so huge a troop espied
Forth all in armor coming on the fierce margrave's side,
Each with his glittering helmet laced ready for the fray,
Somewhat the wrath of Folker kindled at their array.

VI

"See you now, friend Hagan, how comes Sir Iring nigh?
Sure I must condemn him—ill fits a knight to lie.
To stand against thee singly he promis'd just before,
And now he brings in armor a thousand chiefs or more."

VII

"Call me not a liar," Hawart's liegeman cried.
"Yes! I have given a promise; I'd fain my words abide.
I'll ne'er renounce th' adventure; fear is to me unknown;
How fierce soe'er be Hagan, I'll meet him here alone."

VIII

He begg'd his friends and kinsmen, down falling at their feet,
That they would let him singly the stern Burgundian meet.
Fain would they have denied him, for all too well they knew
How stout a knight was Hagan, and how remorseless too.

IX

So long he still entreated, at last they gave consent;
When him on that fierce battle they saw so wildly bent
And so athirst for honor, with grief they let him go.
A deadly strife then follow'd 'twixt either frowning foe.

X

The valiant knight of Denmark bore high his quivering spear,
And crouch'd beneath his buckler through caution, not through fear,
Then, to the hall swift mounting, with Hagan sought to close.
From the death-doing champions a deafening din arose.

XI

Each cast his spear at th' other with such o'ermastering might,
Piercing through the strong bucklers e'en to the harness bright,
That the shafts, high whirling, to a distance flew;
Their swords then, sternly frowning, the rival champions drew.

XII

Huge was the strength of Hagan, his heart and hand were stout,
Yet on him smote Sir Iring, that rang the hall throughout.
Wall and tower re-echoed at every thundering blow.
Still could not he his purpose work on his burly foe.

XIII

So Iring there let Hagan as yet unwounded stand,
And on the warlike minstrel, turn'd at once his hand;
He thought to bring him under with buffets fierce and fell,
But the long-practis'd gleeman his blows all warded well.

XIV

Then Folker, kindling passion, smote Iring's buckler so,
That the steel plates which bound it flew off at every blow.
Then turn'd he from the minstrel (he struck too boisterously),
And fell at once on Gunther the King of Burgundy.

XV

Then 'twixt the valiant couple a furious strife arose;
King Gunther and Sir Iring, like hail they bandied blows.
Yet the red blood could neither with all his buffets draw,
So goodly was their harness without a fault or flaw.

XVI

With that he left King Gunther, and straight at Gernot ran;
The fire from out his mailcoat to hammer he began.
But then to him King Gernot made such a fierce reply,
That the redoubted Iring he all but did to die.

XVII

From the prince he bounded; swift the warrior flew;
Four of the Burgundians in a trice he slew,
All high-descended courtiers from Worms across the Rhine;
Well might the youthful Giselher at such a loss repine.

XVIII

"Now by heaven, Sir Iring!" in his wrath he said,
"Thy life shall pay the forfeit for those who here lie dead
Through thy remorseless fury."—He ran at him full fleet,
And smote the Dane so sternly, he could not keep his feet.

XIX

Down he dropp'd before him grovelling in the gore;
Sure then ween'd each beholder that he never more
Blow would give or parry on a battle-day;
Yet Iring all unwounded before his foeman lay.

XX

So deep his morion sounded, so loud the sword-stroke clash'd,
His senses were confounded as to the ground he dash'd,
And like a corpse, though living, he lay unconscious there;
So wondrous was the prowess of strong-arm'd Giselher!

XXI

When from his brain bewilder'd the swoon had parted slow,
Which had his wits confounded from that o'er mastering blow,
Thought he, "I yet am living, and all unwounded, too.
Now know I Giselher's manhood, and feel what he can do."

XXII

He heard his foes about him as there he lay o'erthrown;
Worse would he have to suffer if once the truth were known
Well, too, the youthful Giselher perceiv'd he standing by.
Then thought he, from amongst them, by what device to fly.

XXIII

From the blood he started; pressing was his need;
Sure for his good fortune he might thank his speed.
From the house he darted just where Hagan stood,
And struck at him in passing with all the force he could.

XXIV

Then thought the Knight of Trony, "Thou'rt in the clutch of death;
Sure, but the devil guard thee, thou canst not 'scape with breath."
Yet with a wound through th' head-piece he straight Sir Hagan paid;
That did the knight with Wasky, his sharp and peerless blade.

XXV

Soon as fierce Sir Hagan felt the gash and pain,
With his sword uplifted he rush'd upon the Dane.
No more against his fury could Hawart's man make head;
Swift down the stairs Sir Hagan pursued him as he fled.

XXVI

Above his head bold Iring held up his buckler strong;
Had that same scanty staircase been full trice as long,
No time had Hagan left him to strike a single stroke.
Ah! what a shower of sparkles red from his morion broke!

XXVII

Yet safe and sound Sir Iring came to his friends again.
Soon then were told to Kriemhild th' achievements of the Dane,
And what he unto Hagan had done with his good blade.
Thus unto the warrior her fervent thanks she paid.

XXVIII

"Now God reward thee, Iring! a noble knight thou art;
Thou hast reviv'd my courage and comforted my heart.
On Hagan's blood-stain'd armor, through thy bold deed, I look."
With her own hand then from him his shield for joy she took.

XXIX

"Your thanks you'd better husband," said Hagan stern and high,
"'Twould well befit a warrior his chance once more to try.
If then he came back scathless, he'd be indeed a knight.
This scratch will boot you little; so e'en a child could smite.

XXX

"The blood you see so gladly, which streaks my mail with red,
It but the more provokes me to heap this land with dead.
My strength is undiminish'd, my wrath is now begun;
You'll feel how little mischief to me has Iring done."

XXXI

Iring the Knight of Denmark there stood against the breeze,
Cooling him in his mailcoat, with helm unlaced for ease.
Loud said those about him how bold he was and brave.
Their praise to the good champion the loftiest courage gave.

XXXII

Then thus outspoke Sir Iring, "Friends! this for certain know;
Arm me, and delay not; once more I'll prove my foe.
His fierce and haughty bearing I can no longer brook."
His shield was hewn and shatter'd; a better straight he took.

XXXIII

Soon was arm'd the warrior, and better than before;
He shook in wrath and fury the weighty spear he bore;
With this against his foeman with sturdy strides he went.
Hate-sparkling eyes upon him the fierce Sir Hagan bent.

XXXIV

Th' attack of bold Sir Iring he would not there await;
Down the stairs he bounded, and ran upon him straight,
Now darting, and now smiting; his wrath was at the height;
Little then his prowess avail'd the Danish knight.

XXXV

The champions smote so fiercely, that fire-red blasts began
To burn from either buckler; then Hawart's luckless man
So grievously was wounded by Hagan's monstrous main
Through sever'd shield and morion, he ne'er was whole again.

XXXVI

That wound dash'd Iring's courage; he felt him ill bestead;
He rais'd his shield yet higher to guard his bleeding head;
He deem'd it grievous mischief, the wound it was so sore;
Yet at the hand of Hagan had he to suffer more.

XXXVII

A spear the man of Gunther found lying at his feet;
This at the head of Iring he darted sure and fleet,
So that the shaft outjutted, quivering, from his brow.
A fatal end has Hagan made of his foeman now!

XXXVIII

Back to his Danes Sir Iring recoil'd with faltering pace;
Ere from his head his comrades the helmet could unlace,
They broke from it the javelin; then close was death at hand.
His kindred wept around him, a sorrow-laden band.

XXXIX

Anon the queen came thither; she o'er the dying bent,
Bewailing dauntless Iring with ghastly dreariment,
And for his wounds sore weeping, and mourning for his sake.
Then thus among his kinsmen the hero faintly spake.

XL

"Fair and noble lady! cease for me to grieve.
What avails your weeping? my life I needs must leave;
Yes! the wounds are mortal that thus have pierc'd me through.
Death will not leave me longer to Etzel and to you."

XLI

Then thus to each ThÜringian he spake, and every Dane,
"Hope not for gifts from Kriemhild, nor count her gold for gain,
For here, my friends! I warn you, e'en with my latest breath,
If once you fight with Hagan, you needs must look on death."

XLII

His lively hue was faded; the stamp of death he bore;
For the redoubted Iring his comrades sorrow'd sore.
Never could recover stout Hawart's vassal true.
Perforce each man of Denmark took to his sword anew.

XLIII

Irnfried at once and Hawart both hurried toward the hall
With a thousand warriors; from amongst them all
Loud peal'd the shout of battle; fierce was their wrath and hot.
Ah! what a sleet of javelins at those of Rhine they shot!

XLIV

Upon the valiant gleeman bold Irnfried rush'd amain,
But at his hand destruction was all that he could gain.
A stern man was the minstrel as e'er in field met foe.
Through th' helm he smote the landgrave a deep and deadly blow.

XLV

Sir Irnfried on Sir Folker dealt too a sturdy stroke,
That of his temper'd hauberk the links asunder broke,
And with the dint his harness all sparkled fiery red.
Then straight before the minstrel down dropp'd the landgrave dead.

XLVI

Sir Hawart and Sir Hagan clos'd too in deadly fight;
Their strife to each beholder was sure a wondrous sight.
Huge strokes from their keen weapons fell thick on either side,
Till by the stern Burgundian perforce Sir Hawart died.

XLVII

When Danes now and ThÜringians saw both their leaders slain,
Against the house yet fiercer rush'd on the shouting train.
Loud round the sounding portal the din of battle peal'd,
And many a helm was cloven, and shatter'd many a shield.

XLVIII

"Fall back, my friends!" said Folker, "E'en let them enter in,
Yield for a while the passage they so desire to win.
Full soon they'll fall together within our bloody hold,
And reap with death and ruin Dame Kriemhild's fatal gold."

XLIX

Those overweening champions the hall had enter'd now;
Many a proud head among them was sudden taught to bow
Beneath the deadly sword-strokes of the fierce warriors there.
Well fought the valiant Gernot, well, too, young Giselher.

L

A thousand and four together had come into the hall;
You might see the broadswords flashing rise and fall;
Soon the bold intruders all dead together lay;
Of those renown'd Burgundians strange marvels one might say.

LI

Thereafter reigned deep silence; the din of war was hush'd;
Through every creak and cranny the blood on all sides gush'd
From that huge hill of slaughter; red did the gutters run.
So much was through their prowess by those of Rhineland done!

LII

With that the bold Burgundians sat down awhile to rest.
His bloody sword and buckler down laid each panting guest.
Still stood th' unwearied minstrel on guard the house before,
To watch if any foeman should seek to force the door.

LIII

Sore wail'd the royal Etzel, sore too his lady wept,
And sobbing dames and damsels like mournful concert kept.
Fell Death, I ween, had taken his oath to do them ill.
Alas! by those fierce strangers more were to perish still.