“Unwounded I stand. My harness is wet with the blood of other men, whereof I have to-day slain so many, that I cannot swear to the number.” Hagen said, “Brother Dankwart, keep the door, and let not a single Hun out; I will speak with the knights as our wrong constraineth me. Guiltless, our followers lie dead.” “To such great kings will I gladly be chamberlain,” said the bold man; “I will guard the stairs faithfully.” Kriemhild’s men were sore dismayed. “I marvel much,” said Hagen, “what the Hunnish knights whisper in each other’s ears. I ween they could well spare him that standeth at the door, and hath brought this court news to the Burgundians. I have long heard Kriemhild say that she could not bear her heart’s dole. Now drink we to Love, and taste the king’s wine. The young prince of the Huns shall be the first.” With that, Hagen slew the child Ortlieb, that the blood gushed down on his hand from his sword, and the head flew up into the queen’s lap. Then a slaughter grim and great arose among the knights. He slew the child’s guardian with a sword stroke from both his hands, that the head fell down before the table. It was sorry pay he gave the tutor. He saw a minstrel sitting at Etzel’s table, and sprang at him in wrath, and lopped off his right hand on his viol: “Take that for the message thou broughtest to the Burgundians.” “Woe is me for my hand!” cried Werbel. “Sir Hagen of Trony, what have I done to thee? I rode with true heart to thy master’s land. How shall I make my music now?” Little recked Hagen if he never fiddled more. He quenched on Etzel’s knights, in the house there, his grim lust for blood, and smote to death not a few. Swift Folker sprang from the table; his fiddle-bow rang loud. Harsh were the tunes of Gunther’s minstrel. Ha! many a foe he made among the Huns! The three kings, too, rose hastily. They would have parted them or more harm was done. But they could not, for Folker and Hagen were beside themselves with rage. When the King of Rhineland could not stint the strife, he, also, smote many a deep wound through the shining harness of his foemen. Well he showed his hardihood. Then stark Gernot came into the battle, and slew many Huns with the sharp sword that Rudeger had given him. He brought many of Etzel’s knights to their graves therewith. Uta’s youngest son sprang into the fray, and pierced the helmets of Etzel’s knights valiantly with his weapon. Bold Giselher’s hand did wonderly. But howso valiant all the others were, the kings and their men, Folker stood up bolder than any against the foes; he was a hero; he wounded many, that they fell down in their blood.