Straight the sorry tidings to every Hunnish chief Were borne by hasty rumor (it gave them mortal grief) That slaughter'd with his warriors was Blœdel good at need, That Dankwart and the yeomen had done the bloody deed. XIV Before King Etzel knew it, inflam'd with deadly hate Two thousand Huns or better donn'd their armor straight. They march'd against the yeomen to deal them mortal dole, And living of the party let not escape a soul. XV Before the house they muster'd, an army deep and dense; Though succorless, the strangers stood well on their defence; Yet what avail'd their valor? Dead perforce they lay. Thence arose soon after a yet more horrid fray. XVI Now you must hear a wonder as never yet was told, Within the hall lay lifeless nine thousands yeomen bold, Thereto of Dankwart's followers twelve hardy knights and good, And now among his foemen alone the warrior stood. XVII Hush'd was the din of battle, laid was the wild uproar; He sternly o'er his shoulder survey'd the horrid floor, And spake, "Alas, brave comrades! what? not a dying groan? Then stand, must Dankwart aidless among his foes alone." XVIII Upon his single person fell thund'ring sword-strokes rife, Yet cause gave he for weeping to many a hero's wife. He rais'd his buckler higher and lower brought the thong. Blood stream'd beneath his buffets through many a hauberk strong. XIX "Woe's me! I'm faint and stifled," the son of Aldrian cried; "Now, ye knights of Hungary! stand a little wide; Let the air refresh me--I'm wearied with the fight." Then manfully among them stepp'd forth the stately knight. XX As faint and exhausted from the house he sprang, What redoubled sword-strokes on his morion rang! Those, who had not yet witness'd what wonders wrought his hand, Forward leapt upon him, the knight from Gunther's land. XXI "Now would to God," said Dankwart, "a messenger would go To let my brother Hagan my fearful peril know, Among this band of traitors how sore beset am I! He'd come and hence would help me, or by my side would die." XXII "Nay, do thyself thy message," the fierce Hungarians said, "When we unto thy brother bring thee cold and dead Then shall the man of Gunther the smart of sorrow know. Thou here hast wrought King Etzel such grievous loss and woe." XXIII Said he, "Your threats give over, stand from me farther yet, Or I will make your hauberks with blood all dripping wet. Myself the heavy tidings will bring to yonder court, And to my lords with wailing our deadly wrongs report." XXIV So much the knights of Etzel his matchless strength dismay'd, That not a man amongst them durst meet him blade to blade, But darts into his buckler they shot so thick around, That, by the weight o'ermaster'd he dropp'd it on the ground. XXV