As the good knight thus deftly was putting o'er his freight, He thought on the strange warning he had receiv'd so late From those wise river-ladies with their prophetic breath; It brought King Gunther's chaplain within a hair of death. LXXI By his holy things close seated he found the priest at rest, With one hand gently leaning above a relique-chest; But in the grasp of Hagan that help'd him not the least. Sore wrong perforce he suffer'd, that heaven-forsaken priest. LXXII He caught and cast him over sooner than can be told. Many a voice loud shouted, "Hold, hold, Sir Hagan, hold!" Wroth at the deed was Giselher, Dame Uta's youngest son, But hold would not Sir Hagan till the mischief he had done. LXXIII Then the bold Burgundian the good Sir Gernot spake, "What can it boot you, Hagan, the chaplain's life to take? Had any other done it, he should have rued it straight. What can thus have mov'd you the holy man to hate?" LXXIV Stoutly swam the chaplain; to 'scape ne'er doubted he, Would any but assist him, but that was not to be; Stern Hagan, fierce and furious, as close he swam along, Dash'd him to the bottom, wrong heaping still on wrong. LXXV None there but thought it outrage, yet none came to his aid, Which when he saw, back turning for th' other bank he made; Though fail'd his strength o'erwearied, yet God's almighty hand Back bore him through the billows, and brought him safe to land. LXXVI There stood the poor clerk shivering, and shook his dripping weed. By this well knew Sir Hagan that their dark doom decreed, As those wild mermaids warn'd him, 'twas all in vain to shun. Thought he, "These hopeful champions must perish every one." LXXVII Soon as the bark was emptied, and all the goods it bore By the three brethren's vassals were safely brought to shore, Stern Hagan broke it piecemeal and down the current cast; The good knights star'd upon him, with wonder all aghast. LXXVIII "What are you doing, brother?" Dankwart sudden cried, "How shall we cross the river, when back we have to ride To the Rhine from Hungary our homes again to see?" Thereafter Hagan told him, that that was ne'er to be. LXXIX Then said the Knight of Trony, "I do it to this end, That, should a coward among us upon this journey wend, Who would perchance desert us through heart-appalling fear, A shameful death may meet him in the wild waters here." LXXX Then when the priest saw Hagan the bark in pieces break, Far o'er the boiling billows to the stern knight he spake. "What did I to you ever, base murderer," he began, "That you this day attempted to drown a guiltless man?" LXXXI