Now ware was the Lord of Rhineland that he could not still the fray: Then himself unsheathed his war-glaive, and fell on the foes' array, And he cleft their shining hauberks, and dealt wounds deep and wide. What man of his hands was the hero that havoc testified. Then also Gernot the stalwart plunged mid the surges of strife: Out of many a valiant champion of the Huns he smote the life. With the keen-edged brand of battle, the gift that Rüdiger gave, For many a knight of Etzel did he open the gates of the grave. Then the youngest son of Uta hurled into the tempest-roar: His battle-brand victorious through many a morion shore Of the warriors of King Etzel, the pride of the Hunfolk's land. Ay, marvels of hero-prowess were wrought by Giselher's hand. But, how brave were the rest soever, the kings and their vassal-train, Yet no man like unto Volker might ye see, as he battled amain Facing the starkest foemen--ha, 'twas a warrior good! Many a champion before him fell wounded to death in his blood. {P. 270} Of a truth the liegemen of Etzel made stout defence that day: But the guests--ye might see them hewing forth and back their way Through the length and breadth of the feast-hall of the King with the lightening brand, While scream and groan of the stricken went up on every hand. Then they without right gladly would have holpen their friends within: But when they would force that doorway, small honour could they win. And they in the hall full gladly would have gotten to outer air, But past that door-ward Dankwart might none set foot on the stair. So gathered before that portal throngs upon throngs of foes, And loud were the helmets ringing as the swords dealt crashing blows. Then hardly bestead was the warder, Dankwart the unafraid; But his brother marked his peril, as love and loyalty bade. With a mighty voice unto Volker straightway did Hagen shout: "Seest thou yonder, my comrade, how beset by a Hunnish rout Alone my brother standeth, while down on him stark blows rain? O friend, do thou help my brother, ere sped be the valiant thane." Made answer the viol-minstrel: "Yea verily will I so." Through the hall he strode to the music of that strange viol-bow, That sword of the ice-brook's temper, that rang in his grasp evermore; And the Rhineland knights as they heard it gave hearty thanks therefor. Then unto Dankwart Volker the aweless hero said: "This day hast thou sorely travailed, and now art thou hardly bestead: Wherefore to me for thine helping did Hagen thy brother appeal. Them from without withstand thou, and with these from within will I deal."