When the men of Bloedel / saw thus their master slain, To fall upon the strangers / would they longer not refrain. With swords swung high above them / upon the squires they flew In a grimmest humor. / Soon many must that rashness rue. 1930 Full loudly cried then Dankwart / to all his company: "Behold ye, noble squires, / the fate that ours must be. Now quit yourselves with valor, / for evil is our pass, Though fair to us the summons / hither from Lady Kriemhild was!" 1931 They, too, reached down before them, / who no weapons bore, And each a massive footstool / snatched from off the floor, For the Burgundian squires / no whit were they dismayed; And by the selfsame weapons / was many a dint in helmet made. 1932 How fierce they fought to shield them / the strangers one and all! E'en their armed foemen / drove they from the hall. Or smote dead within it / hundreds five or more; All the valiant fighters / saw ye drenched with ruddy gore. 1933 Ere long the wondrous tidings / some messenger did tell Unto Etzel's chieftain / --fierce did their anger swell-- How that slain was Bloedel / and knights full many a one; The which had Hagen's brother / with his lusty squires done. 1934 The Huns, by anger driven, / ere Etzel was aware, Two thousand men or over, / did quick themselves prepare. They fell upon those squires / --e'en so it had to be-- And never any living / they left of all that company. 1935 A mickle host they faithless / unto those quarters brought, But lustily the strangers / 'gainst their assailants fought. What booted swiftest valor? / Soon must all lie dead. A dire woe thereafter / on many a man was visited. 1936 Now may ye hear a wondrous / tale of honor told: Of squires full nine thousand / soon in death lay cold, And eke good knights a dozen / there of Dankwart's band. Forlorn ye saw him only / the last amid his foemen stand. 1937 The din at last was ended / and lulled the battle-sound, When the valiant Dankwart / did cast a glance around. "Alack for my companions," / cried he, "now from me reft. Alack that I now only / forlorn amid my foes am left." 1938 The swords upon his body / fell full thick and fast, Which rashness many a warrior's / widow mourned at last. His shield he higher lifted / and drew the strap more low: Down coats of ring-made armor / made he the ebbing blood to flow. 1939 "O woe is me!" spake Dankwart, / the son of Aldrian. "Now back, ye Hunnish fighters, / let me the open gain, That the air give cooling / to me storm-weary wight." In splendid valor moving / strode forward then anew the knight. 1940 As thus he battle-weary / through the hall's portal sprang, What swords of new-come fighters / upon his helmet rang! They who not yet had witnessed / what wonders wrought his hand, Rashly rushed they forward / to thwart him of Burgundian land. 1941