Then did they after his counsel, and out through the door they drew Seven thousand slain men's corpses, and forth of the palace threw. Afront of the steps they hurled them adown to the court below. Then wailed from the friends of the slaughtered lamentation and mourning and woe. There was many a man among them whose hurts were not so sore, But that soon, had he gentle tendance, he were whole again as before, Who yet found death all swiftly, hurled from that cruel height. Loudly their kin lamented who saw that pitiful sight. Then shouted the viol-minstrel, the champion dauntless-souled: "Now well do I see how truly the tale unto me was told {P. 276} That this is a land of cravens: like women they wail, these Huns, They who should now be tending the battle-stricken ones!" Then it seemed to a lord of the marches that he spake not in scoffing mood; And that same lord had a kinsman there fallen in his blood; And he thought from the carnage to bear him, and his arms around him he threw; But the minstrel with a javelin hurled at him, and slew. Then back from the stairway fled they who in hope had been drawing near, Cursing the viol-minstrel in the impotent fury of fear. Then caught up Volker a javelin, stubborn-shafted and keen: Shot by one of the Hunfolk against himself had it been. Across the court he sped it, putting his might to the cast, That it flew o'er their heads fierce-singing; and Etzel's men were aghast, As he warned them to safer standing, from the hall-door far away. At his matchless might all people were thrilled with sore dismay. Before that hall with Etzel in thousands the Hunfolk stood. And now did Volker and Hagen in scornful-reckless mood Set them to gall the Hun-king, and with bitter taunts to defy. Ere long grim retribution on the heroes came thereby. "It were well," cried Hagen, "to hearten the folk in the evil day, That the lords of the land should battle in the forefront of the fray, Even as this day battle those true men, even my lords: They hew the helmets asunder, blood flieth to meet their swords." No battle-blencher was Etzel: he grasped in wrath and pride His shield--"Risk not at their bidding thine own life!" Kriemhild cried. "Nay, offer thy shield gold-brimming for a champion of thy war-band. If thou close with yonder Hagen, death standeth at thy right hand." Yet the King was a knight so fearless that he would not refrain from the strife-- Sooth, now such mighty princes more dearly tender their life!-- Their lord from the fray by his shield-band his servants needs must hale. Then with grim laughter Hagen again at the King 'gan rail: {P. 277} "Good sooth, 'tis a far-away kinship," he cried with bitter jeer, "That hath drawn this Etzel and Siegfried each unto other so near! He wantoned with yonder Kriemhild or ever she looked on thee! What ho, King Etzel the craven, what grudge hast thou against me?"