Raising aloft their well-poised javelins, the two champions hurled them at each other with such mighty force and so true an aim that both shields were pierced and the shafts snapped short, whereupon they rushed together, their great swords clanging sharply on the iron shields. So heavy were Sir Iring’s strokes that fire leaped out beneath them, and the clash of arms resounded through the hall, yet of no avail were they against Hagen’s strength and skill; whereupon, giving over the attempt, he fell upon Günther; and then again baffled, upon Gernot. At last, in a fury at finding himself no match for these heroes he sprang at one of the Burgundian knights and slew him and thereafter three others. Now Giselher, beside himself with rage, longed for vengeance, nor did he long in vain, for therewith Iring rushed upon him, but Giselher smote him so powerfully that he fell senseless to the floor. All thought him dead, yet he was but stunned with the crashing blow upon his helm; and suddenly springing to his feet he rushed from the hall, smiting Hagen as he reached the door, and wounding him. Furious with rage, that hero grasped his sword in both hands and pursued Sir Iring down the stairs, striking sparks from his upraised shield. Kriemhild, seeing the blood on Hagen’s helm, greeted Iring joyfully; but Hagen shouted to her to save her thanks until the knight should have proved himself worthy of them by returning again to the combat, warning her also that his wound was but slight and had done him little harm as she should soon learn. Thereupon Iring caused a new shield to be brought, and hastily donning fresh armor he rushed again to the stairway. Like a raging lion, down sprang Hagen to meet him, striking such fearful blows that naught could long withstand them. Soon they shore through shield and helm and wounded Iring. Higher he raised his shield to guard his head, when Hagen, seizing a spear that lay upon the ground, hurled it through the shield and fatally pierced him. Back fled Iring to his Danes and there sank dying at their feet, while they crowded about him with cries of sorrow. Kriemhild too bent over him weeping. He died like a hero; yet ere his eyes grew dim he spoke once more in warning to his followers: “Those largesses which Etzel’s Queen Did promise you to-day Ne’er hope to conquer or to win While holding mortal breath; For he who fights with Hagen bold Is sure to meet with death!” Maddened with grief and rage by the death of their chief, Irnfried and Hawart rushed headlong on the Burgundians and another fierce fight began. Soon Irnfried fell by Volker’s sword, and Hawart by Hagen’s. Then Volker ordered that their followers who were storming at the door be admitted to the hall, and again the din of battle rose more frightful than before. The Burgundians fought like lions; nor, fiercely as the Danes and Thuringians strove to avenge their lords, did one escape the swords of Günther’s dauntless heroes.