So Iring turned him from Hagen, who was woundless yet of his blows, And now with the viol-minstrel in conflict did he close. He weened, as he hailed grim sword-strokes, he should smite his foeman down; But of fence exceeding cunning was that champion of renown. So starkly smote the minstrel, that the studs were whirled through the air By Volker's strong hand stricken from the shield that Iring bare. So he left him standing unwounded, for a terrible foe was he: Then turned he, and leapt upon Gunther, the Lord of Burgundy. So champion clashed with champion, giants in battle-might, Gunther and Iring, and starkly each the other they smite; {P. 280} Yet neither could redden the armour of other with gushing blood, For the strong-knit links of the harness the edge of the steel withstood. From Gunther he swiftly hath turned him, and now upon Gernot he springs; He smiteth his mail, and he heweth flashes of flame from the rings. But Gernot the lord Burgundian with such stark fury fought, That to death's sheer brink his prowess the valiant Iring brought. But he sprang from the Prince--as a panther's swift was the leap of the thane-- And four good knights Burgundian with four great strokes hath he slain; In the noble host of the vassals from Worms over Rhine they came. Never ere then so hotly did the wrath of Giselher flame. "By the living God, Sir Iring," the young prince Giselher cried, "Unto me shalt thou make atonement for these that here have died Even now by thy battle-brand stricken!" He leapt upon his foe, And he lashed with a stroke so mighty that the Dane reeled back from the blow: As hurled from the hands of the smiter, backward he fell in blood, That it seemed unto all beholders that the warrior stalwart and good Should never strike in battle another stroke of brand: Yet Iring the while unwounded lay of Giselher's hand. In sooth, so rang his helmet, so clashed the sword on his head, That stunned he lay, and his senses awhile were utterly fled; And indeed for a space he knew not whether he yet lived on. Even this unto him had the prowess of valiant Giselher done. When he came to himself, and out of the darkness his soul awoke From the swoon wherein it had sunken at the falling of that great stroke, Then thought he: "Behold, I am living! Moreover, wound have I none. Now know I Giselher's prowess, the might of the valiant one!" Around him the feet of the foemen he heard, as they moved to and fro. Had they known that he lived, right swiftly had they ended him, I trow! The voice of Giselher heard he withal as he stood hard by; And he pondered how from the foemen that ringed him round he should fly. {P. 281}