Yet not abide his coming / might Hagen longer now. Adown he rushed upon him / with many a thrust and blow, Down where the stairway ended / for fierce did burn his ire. Soon the might of Iring / must 'neath his furious onset tire, 2062 Their shields they smote asunder / that the sparks began To fly in ruddy showers. / Hawart's gallant man Was by sword of Hagen / wounded all so sore Through shield and shining cuirass, / that whole he found him never more. 2063 When how great the wound was / Iring fully knew, Better to guard his helm-band / his shield he higher drew. The scathe he first received / he deemed sufficient quite, Yet injury far greater / soon had he from King Gunther's knight. 2064 From where it lay before him / Hagen a spear did lift And hurled it upon Iring / with aim so sure and swift, It pierced his head, and firmly / fixed the shaft did stand; Full grim the end that met him / 'neath the doughty Hagen's hand. 2065 Backward Iring yielded / unto his Danish men. Ere for the knight his helmet / they undid again, From his head they drew the spear-point; / to death he was anigh. Wept thereat his kinsmen, / and sore need had verily. 2066 Came thereto Queen Kriemhild / and o'er the warrior bent, And for the doughty Iring / gan she there lament. She wept to see him wounded, / and sorely grieved the queen. Then spake unto his kinsmen / the warrior full brave and keen. 2067 "I pray thee leave thy moaning, / royal high lady. What avails thy weeping? / Yea, soon must ended be My life from wounds outflowing / that here I did receive. To serve thyself and Etzel / will death not longer grant me leave." 2068 Eke spake he to them of Thuringia / and to them of Danish land: "Of you shall never any / receive the gift in hand From your royal mistress / of shining gold full red. Whoe'er withstandeth Hagen / death calleth down upon his head." 2069 From cheek the color faded, / death's sure token wore Iring the gallant warrior: / thereat they grieved full sore. Nor more in life might tarry / Hawart's valiant knight: Enraged the men of Denmark / again did arm them for the fight. 2070 Irnfried and Hawart / before the hall then sprang Leading thousand warriors. / Full furious a clang Of weapons then on all sides / loud and great ye hear. Against the men of Burgundy / how hurled they many a mighty spear! 2071 Straight the valiant Irnfried / the minstrel rushed upon, But naught but grievous injury / 'neath his hand he won: For the noble Fiddler / did the landgrave smite E'en through the well-wrought helmet; / yea, grim and savage was the knight. 2072 Sir Irnfried then in answer / the valiant minstrel smote, That must fly asunder / the rings of his mailed coat Which showered o'er his cuirass / like sparks of fire red. Soon must yet the landgrave / fall before the Fiddler dead. 2073