“It repenteth me sore,” spake Hagen, “to be parted from the knight. I was his comrade, and he mine. If we win home again, we shall ever be true friends. See now, great king, how he serveth thee. He earneth thy silver and thy gold. His fiddle-bow cleaveth the hard steel, and scattereth on the ground the bright jewels on the helmets. Never have I seen a minstrel make such stand. His measures ring through helmet and shield. Good horse shall he ride, and wear costly apparel.” Of the Huns that had been in the hall, not one was left alive. The tumult fell, for there was none to fight, and the bold warriors laid down their swords. Thirty-Fourth Adventure How They Threw Down the Dead The knights sat down through weariness. Folker and Hagen went out before the hall. There the overweening men leaned on their shields and spake together. Then said Giselher of Burgundy, “Rest not yet, dear friends. Ye must carry the dead out of the house. We shall be set upon again; trow my word. These cannot lie longer among our feet. Or the Huns overcome us, we will hew many wounds; to the which I am nothing loth.” “Well for me that I have such a lord,” answered Hagen. “This counsel suiteth well such a knight as our young master hath approved him this day. Ye Burgundians have cause to rejoice.” They did as he commanded, and bare the seven thousand dead bodies to the door, and threw them out. They fell down at the foot of the stair. Then arose a great wail from their kinsmen. Some of them were so little wounded that, with softer nursing, they had come to. Now, from the fall, these died also. Their friends wept and made bitter dole. Then said bold Folker the fiddler, “Now I perceive they spake the truth that told me the Huns were cowards. They weep like women, when they might tend these wounded bodies.” A Margrave that was there deemed he meant this truly. He saw one of his kinsmen lying in his blood, and put his arms round him to bear him away. Him the minstrel shot dead. When the others saw this, they fled, and began to curse Folker. With that, he lifted a sharp spear and hard from the ground, that a Hun had shot at him, and hurled it strongly across the courtyard, over the heads of the folk. Etzel’s men took their stand further off, for they all feared his might. Then came Etzel with his men before the hall. Folker and Hagen began to speak out their mind to the King of the Huns. They suffered for it or all was done. “It is well for a people when its kings fight in the forefront of the strife as doeth each of my masters. They hew the helmets, and the blood spurteth out.” Etzel was brave, and he grasped his shield. “Have a care,” cried Kriemhild, “and offer thy knights gold heaped upon the shield. If Hagen reach thee, thou hast death at thy hand.”