Then the men of Dietrich's war-band into the conflict hurled

Then the men of Dietrich's war-band into the conflict hurled: They smote, and the splintered mail-rings flashing afar were whirled, And shards of the lashing war-glaives went flying high overhead: Hot from the rifted helmets the torrent blood they shed.

Then marked grim Hagen of Troneg how Volker the knight lay slain. That was in all this high-tide the deepest-piercing pain That of any mischance unto kinsman or vassal or friend he had proved. How sternly did Hagen set him to avenge his best-beloved! "For this shall he not go scatheless, yon greybeard Hildebrand! Low lieth my battle-helper, slain by the hero's hand, The truest and best war-fellow that ever stood by my side." He swung up his shield: fierce-hewing on the vengeance-quest he hied. Then dealt Helfrich the stalwart unto Dankwart a deadly blow: Unto Giselher and Gunther 'twas a grievous sight enow When there they beheld him fallen in death's strong agony; Yet his own hands had avenged him, and not alone did he lie.

(C) For all that so many thousands had gathered from many a land, With their princes mighty-armoured, against that little band, Yet, had not the Christian warriors at the last against them fought, Deliverance from the heathen their prowess, I trow, had wrought.

Wolfhart the while went cleaving a blood-path to and fro; He lashed at the liegemen of Gunther, he laid their bravest low: For the third time now was he hewing a death-way round the hall; Before his mighty hand-strokes did many a good knight fall. Then cried aloud unto Wolfhart the stalwart Giselher: "Alas for me, who have gotten so grim a foeman there! O valiant knight and noble, hither to meward turn! I will end it—no more the destroying flame of thy wrath shall burn."

Then unto Giselher turned him Wolfhart amidst of the fight. Many a wound wide-gaping did strong knight deal unto knight. To meet the Prince with fury so eager Wolfhart flashed, That over his head from the blood-pools by his feet were the red drops dashed.

With stern strokes swift as the lightning did the son of Uta the fair Unto Wolfhart the dauntless champion give terrible welcome there. How stark soe'er was the hero, death on his foe's sword hung. Never more dreadless valour was found in a prince so young! He smote, and through Wolfhart's hauberk that gallant heart he found, So that forth of the wound outrushing his life-blood streamed to the ground; Yea, unto death was stricken Dietrich's vassal-knight:— None save a battle-champion had wrought such a deed of might! Wolfhart knew it his death-wound, but the hero undismayed Cast from his arm his buckler; his adamant-tempered blade, His sword of the edge all-cleaving, in both hands high did he swing, And he smote the son of Uta through helm and through hauberk-ring. Death-stricken each by other down fell they side by side; By one grim doom that liegeman of Dietrich and Giselher died. Hildebrand, that grey warrior, saw Wolfhart overthrown: Of a truth, through all his life-days such pain had he never known.

By this were Gunther's liegemen one and all laid low, And all the men of Dietrich. Then did Hildebrand go Unto where lay Wolfhart dying amidst of a pool of blood, And in loving arms he clasped him, that gallant knight and good. Forth of the hall to bear him he would fain have uplifted him; But he needs must leave him lying, so huge he was of limb. And the dying eyes of the hero from the blood looked up in his face, And he knew how fain would his uncle have helped him forth that place. "Nay, uncle well-belovèd," the deadly-wounded saith, "Nought may thine help avail me: it is the hour of death. Nay, guard thee rather from Hagen—this rede, I wot, is good— For in his heart he beareth a fell and murderous mood.

And if friends and kinsmen be minded Wolfhart's death to lament, Unto my nearest and dearest this message by thee be sent:— Let there be for my sake no weeping, forasmuch as need is none. At the hands of a king in battle a glorious death I won. Such vengeance withal have I taken for my death, in this hall who die, That many wives of warriors shall wail with bitter cry. And if any would know the story of my last fight, fearlessly say That mine own hand, unholpen, did five-score foemen slay."

Then on the viol-minstrel, his dead friend, Hagen thought, Whose death by the grey-haired hero Hildebrand had been wrought; And he cried to the old man dauntless: "Thou for my grief shalt pay! Of valiant knights too many hast thou robbed us in this fray!" Then upon Hildebrand rushed he, and smote, and the hall rang wide With the clang of the great sword Balmung, the blade that from Siegfried's side Hagen the grim had taken, when he murdered the Hero of old. But the grey-haired warded him deftly, the old knight fearless-bold. With a battle-glaive broad-bladed Dietrich's liegeman lashed At Hagen the Lord of Troneg, and the edge through the mail-rings crashed; Yet to wound the vassal of Gunther his strength might not prevail; And again did Hagen smite him, and he shore through his strong-knit mail. Now when that grey-haired champion the bite of the sword-edge felt, He feared lest scathe yet greater by Hagen's hand should be dealt. Straightway the liegeman of Dietrich his shield on his back hath cast, And the hero sorely wounded from Hagen's face fled fast. By this of the knights Burgundian was no man left unslain Save only Gunther and Hagen, those noble warriors twain.

All blood-bedabbled hasted Hildebrand the old, And he came to the presence of Dietrich, and his woeful story told. There saw he his master sitting with dark forebodings stirred; But tidings of bitterer sorrow that princely hero heard When he saw his liegeman standing in crimson-clotted mail; And with sudden fear heart-stricken he bade him tell his tale:

"Ha, Master Hildebrand, tell me, how cometh this?—thou art wet With thine own life-blood streaming! Of whom hast thou been beset? I ween, with the guests Burgundian in yonder hall thou hast fought— The thing I forbade so straitly! Thou hast set mine best at nought!" Spake Hildebrand to his liege-lord: "Hagen's was this deed: In yonder hall he dealt me the wounds wherefrom I bleed. When before the mighty warrior I turned me from the strife, Hardly from that fiend's fury escaped I with my life." But the Prince of Bern made answer: "Rightly served art thou! Unto yonder guests in thine hearing I spake my friendship's vow; And lo, that peace thou hast broken which I sware unto them that day! Were it not for the shame undying, thy life for this should pay!" "Let not thine anger against me, Lord Dietrich, be over-hot, Seeing mischief all too grievous unto me and my friends hath been wrought. Forth of the hall the body of Rüdiger fain would we bear, And yonder vassals of Gunther would hearken not to our prayer."

"Woe for these sorrowful tidings! Is Rüdiger verily slain? This shall to me be anguish beyond all former pain. The noble Lady Gotlind is mine own dear cousin's child! Alas for the hapless orphans in Bechlaren's halls exiled!" With sorrow of heart and pity for that death wrung was his breast. Then brake he forth into weeping, for the hero was sore distrest: "Alas for the loyal helper that in him is lost unto me! O good knight of King Etzel, evermore must I mourn for thee! Canst, Master Hildebrand, tell me how died he, and cause me to know How named was the knight Burgundian who dealt him that death-blow?" He said: "By the battle-prowess of Gernot the strong was it done, And death in the selfsame moment of Rüdiger's hands he won."

Unto Hildebrand spake Dietrich: "Say to my liegemen thou To array them in armour straightway. Myself will go forth now.

Let them bring me my shining harness withal: do thou so command. Myself am minded to question the knights of Burgundia-land." But Master Hildebrand answered: "Who shall go forth with thee? Thine only living liegeman in thy presence now dost thou see, Even me, and there is none other. The rest, they be all dead men." Dismayed was he at the tidings—well might he be anguished then, For in all the wide world never on him did such blow fall. He cried: "What, all my liegemen?—and have they perished all? So then—oh hapless Dietrich!—my God hath forgotten me! And erewhile a king most mighty I reigned in majesty!"

But again in amaze spake Dietrich: "How could it so betide That they, those goodly heroes, should one and all have died Slain by men battle-weary and in sore extremity? Mine evil star hath done it, else death must have passed them by! Since then mine evil fortune hath spared me not this stroke, Answer me—live yet any of those Burgundian folk?" And Master Hildebrand answered: "God knoweth, there is none Save Gunther the king high-hearted and Hagen—these alone," "Woe's me, belovèd Wolfhart! Of thee am I left forlorn? Well may I now repent me that ever I was born! And Siegstab and Wolfwein have fallen, and dead is the good Wolfbrand! Who then shall be mine helpers of the sons of Amelung-land? Helfrich the valiant also, by death from me is he torn? Perished have Gerbert and Wichart—when shall I cease to mourn? This is of all the joyance of life my latest day! Alas that the anguish-stricken sheer sorrow may not slay!"

XXXIX. How Gunther, Hagen, and Kriemhild were slain