Up the ready Folker leapt from table quick; In his hand loud clatter'd his deadly fiddlestick. Harsh crashing notes discordant King Gunther's minstrel play'd. Ah! what a host of foemen among the Huns he made! XVIII Up, too, leapt from table the royal brethren three; They thought to part the battle ere mischief more should be. But lost was all their labor, vain was all help of man; When Folker and stern Hagan once so to rage began. XIX When saw the Lord of Rhineland no power could stint the strife, He too dealt dole about him with wounds that let out life, Through the shining hauberks cutting deadly way. A prowest knight was Gunther, as clear he show'd that day. XX At once into the battle the sturdy Gernot flew; Thick as they flock'd around him the clustering Huns he slew With his sword, the gift of Rudeger, the which he wielded so, That many a knight of Etzel's he laid for ever low. XXI The third too of the brethren rush'd into the fray; Through th' helms of Etzel's warriors his swords made bloody way; Death follow'd every buffet; right wondrous deeds were done That hour by youthful Giselher, Dame Uta's youngest son. XXII Well fought that day the brethren, well too their men of might, But ever valiant Folker stood foremost in the fight, Against his foes so knightly himself the warrior bore. Many brought he among them to wallow in their gore. XXIII On their defence, too, stoutly stood Etzel's champions all. Then might you see the strangers through the kingly hall With their glittering broadswords slashing and hewing go. Loud thrill'd throughout the palace wild screams of wail and woe. XXIV Then those without in hurried to aid their friends within, But found upon the staircase more was to lose than win; Out fain would rush the others, and through the doorway fare. To none gave Dankwart passage, nor up nor down the stair. XXV To force the guarded portal throng'd the Huns amain. With the clattering sword-strokes the morions rang again. Then stood the valiant Dankwart in deadly peril there; Of that his loving brother took heed with timely care. XXVI Straight to dauntless Folker, Hagan shouted loud, "See you there my brother beset by yonder crowd, Batter'd by blades unnumber'd, by countless bucklers cross'd? Up, and save him, comrade! or the good knight is lost." XXVII "Fear not," replied the minstrel, "I'll do your bidding soon." Straight strode he through the palace playing his harshest tune. Oft clash'd the keen-edg'd broadsword that in his hand he bore. The noble chiefs of Rhineland thank'd him o'er and o'er. XXVIII