"So let us to our quarters," the fearless warrior cried, "Send hence our weary horses; back we can hither ride, If there be time, toward evening; 'twere fitter then than now; What if to us Burgundians the queen should praise allow?" XXXVIII Just then there rode so proudly into the lists a Hun, That so no knight among them the general gaze had won. Perchance e'en then in secret for some fair maid he sigh'd. He wore as rich apparel as any noble bride. XXXIX At once outspake Sir Folker, "I needs must spoil his cheer; Yonder ladies' darling must feel a push of spear. No one shall prevent it--let him guard his life. I reck not, though it kindle the wrath of Etzel's wife." XL "No! as you love me, Folker," straight the king 'gan say, "The people all will blame us if we commence the fray. Let the Huns begin it: 'twere better so, I ween." Still was King Etzel sitting beside his moody queen. XLI "I'll join you in the tourney," fierce Hagan sternly cried; "Let's show both knights and ladies how we Burgundians ride. 'Twere well, by proof they knew it; they'd rate us higher then. Now they deny all credit to good King Gunther's men." XLII Back into the tourney swift Folker hotly spurr'd; Thereby was many a lady to grievous sorrow stirr'd. Right through that proud Hun's body he drove the griding spear. That stroke both dames and damsels cost many a bitter tear. XLIII That saw at once Sir Hagan, nor dallying there abode; With sixty of his champions, all thundering as they rode, 'Gainst th' Huns he hotly hurtled fast by the gleeman's side. King Etzel and Queen Kriemhild the tourney closely eyed. XLIV Nor would the three kings basely in dastard sloth repose, And leave the minstrel aidless among unnumber'd foes, With them came to the rescue a thousand warriors good; Haughty and overweening they did whate'er they would. XLV Soon as by Sir Folker the wealthy Hun was slain, You might hear his kinsmen cry out and loudly plain. All in a breath were asking, "Who has this outrage done?" "Folker the bold minstrel," gave answer many a one. XLVI Straight for swords and bucklers were calling all the band Akin to the young margrave of the Hunnish land; The fearless minstrel Folker they thought at once to slay. The host down from a window took in haste his way. XLVII From the Huns on all sides a cry arose amain. Before the hall alighted the kings and all their train. Every bold Burgundian sent his steed away; Up in haste came Etzel and parted straight the fray. XLVIII He found one of the kinsmen with his sword drawn in his hand; From him in an instant he snatch'd the naked brand, And beat the brawlers backward, chafing and raging sore. "In sooth with these good warriors my favor all were o'er," XLIX