Ill should ye do to deny me," said Dietrich thereunto

"Ill should ye do to deny me," said Dietrich thereunto, "King Gunther and thou Hagen; ye have done unto me, ye two, Yea, to my heart and my spirit, such passing bitter despite, That if now ye will make me atonement, it shall be but just and right. I pledge unto you mine honour and the faith of my right hand, That with you will I ride, your safeguard, back to your own home-land. As befitteth kings and heroes will I lead you—else will I die; And for your sakes all mine anguish in forgetfulness buried shall lie." "Require this thing no further!" his answer Hagen flung. "Good sooth, 'twere a seemly story to be told of the mocker's tongue That two so valiant war-lords had yielded them unto thine hand! What, man?—none standeth beside thee save only Hildebrand!"

But Master Hildebrand answered: "Lord Hagen, God doth know— This peace, which my Lord Dietrich now offereth to bestow, The hour may come upon you, ay, and perchance full soon, When gladly ye would accept it, but may not grasp the boon." "So low as to such atonement would I stoop," did Hagen cry, "Ere I in such craven fashion forth of a hall would fly As thou didst, O good Master, but a little while ago! I weened that thou couldst bear thee more bravely before a foe!" Then Master Hildebrand answered: "For that thing me dost thou mock? Who was it that sat all deedless on his shield by the Wasken-rock, When so many of his own kinsmen were killed by Walter of Spain? Of a truth, upon thine own honour there lieth many a stain!"

"Peace!" cried the noble Dietrich, "such knights doth it misbeseem With words to rail on each other, as when old shrews scold and scream Hildebrand, I forbid it: speak thou here no more. A homeless knight, with sorrow enow mine heart is sore!

Answer me, Hero Hagen," said Dietrich yet again; "What spake ye knights together, ye battle-eager twain, When a little agone in mine harness ye saw me hard at hand? Thou saidst that alone in battle against me thou wouldst stand." "Ay, no man shall gainsay it!" cried Hagen the void of fear: "I will prove it by mighty handstrokes upon thy body here, If so be that the Sword of the Niblungs unshivered fail not me. I am wroth that thou darest require us to yield us captive to thee!"

Forthright, when Dietrich heard it, the mind of Hagen the grim, That battle-eager champion caught his shield unto him. How swiftly adown that stairway to meet him Hagen sprang! Loudly on Dietrich's armour the sword of the Niblungs rang. Full well in that hour knew Dietrich that his lion-hearted foe Was passing grim of spirit: from many a deadly blow With cunning of fence did he ward him, that noble Lord of Bern. He proved what a knight was Hagen, to his mortal foe how stern. He had need to beware of Balmung, stark sword renowned afar; And but now and again smote Dietrich, with cunningest craft of war, Till at last in a grapple of giants he wore down Hagen the strong, And a grievous wound he dealt him, a gash both deep and long.

Then bethought him Dietrich the noble: "Long travail hath sapped thy might: Small honour should it bring me, if the death-stroke now I should smite. Nay, rather will I make trial if yet I may constrain Even thee to become my captive." With peril he did it and pain. Mighty of thews was Dietrich: his shield from his arm he slipped; He sprang upon Hagen of Troneg, and with sinewy hands he gripped. And so at the last overmastered was the warrior aweless-bold; And Gunther the noble beheld it exceeding sorrowful-souled.

Then Dietrich bound Sir Hagen, and he led that battle-thrall Unto where was the high-born Kriemhild; and the bravest knight of all

That ever with sword were girded, to her hands he rendered up. She had drunken the dregs of affliction; at last joy brimmed her cup. How glad was the wife of Etzel! Low to the thane did she bow: "Blessèd in soul and in body evermore be thou! For all my sore tribulation now hast thou recompensed me. Except death's coming prevent me, I will ever be bounden to thee!" Made answer Dietrich the noble: "Let him live, and in no wise slay, O noble Daughter of Princes! It may come to pass one day That his good deeds may requite thee for the wrongs thou hast had at his hands. Visit it not upon him that in bonds in thy presence he stands." Then to a dungeon-chamber she bade lead Hagen away Where no man's eye beheld him, and there close-barred he lay.

Then Gunther the noble uplifted his voice, and aloud he cried: "The Hero of Bern hath wronged me!—from my vengeance where doth he hide?" Hasted to meet him Dietrich the Lord of Bern forthright; But Gunther's battle-prowess was worthy of such a knight: Not for his coming he tarried, but adown the stairway sprang. Clashed their meeting war-glaives with a passing-deadly clang. How proved soever was Dietrich in prowess of olden fame, Such madness of battle-fury now upon Gunther came, Unto such fell hate of his foeman was he stung by grief and pain, That men yet count it a marvel that Dietrich escaped unslain. So stalwart were these, so thrilled them the battle-spirit's power, That loud from their thunderous smiting re-echoed palace and tower. Hewing the hard steel helmets did the great swords whirl and swing. Ha, with right royal courage did he bear him, Gunther the King! But at last by the might of Dietrich he too was overborne: Men saw his blood fast flowing through the mail-rings shattered and shorn By the all-resistless keenness of the blade that Dietrich bare. Well had he warded him, Gunther, how weary he was soe'er!