Then many a prowest champion disarm'd his lofty head; Down sat they on the corpses, that wide the floor bespread, And lay in blood before them as by their hands they died; Close still by Hate and Vengeance the n.o.ble guests were spied.

III

Not yet come on had evening, when the fierce king anew And vengeance-breathing Kriemhild to fight together drew The mighty men of Hungary; before him muster'd stood Better than twenty thousand prepar'd for blows and blood.

IV

Once more 'gainst the Burgundians a fearful strife arose; Dankwart before the portal among the cl.u.s.tering foes From his lords undaunted leapt forth with a light bound.

'Twas thought he long had perish'd; out stepp'd he safe and sound.

V

The deadly struggle lasted till it was stopp'd by night; The guests themselves defended 'gainst Etzel's men of might, As well became good warriors, all through a summer's day.

Ah! what redoubted champions dead before them lay!

VI

'Twas e'en on a midsummer befell that murderous fight, When on her nearest kinsmen and many a n.o.ble knight Dame Kriemhild wreak'd the anguish that long in heart she bore, Whence inly griev'd King Etzel, nor joy knew ever more.

VII

Yet on such sweeping slaughter at first she had not thought; She only had for vengeance on one transgressor sought.

She wish'd that but on Hagan the stroke of death might fall; Twas the foul fiend's contriving, that they should perish all.

VIII

And now the day was ended; ill were they then bestead.

They thought, 'twere surely better that they at once were dead, Than in slow torture lingering unhopeful of release.

Those high and haughty warriors, ah! how they yearn'd for peace!

IX

They begg'd the Huns, King Etzel to bring before the hall; Themselves then, blood-bedabbled and harness-stain'd withal, With the three royal brethren from th' house mov'd faint and slow.

To whom to plain, they knew not, in their o'ermastering woe.

X

So near them both Etzel and Kriemhild drew; To them belong'd the country; their host thus greater grew.

He thus bespake the strangers, "Now what would you with me?

Hope you for peace and friendship? that sure can hardly be.

XI

"After the deadly mischief that you to me have done, The slaughter of my kinsmen, the murder of my son, Cause shall you have to rue it as long as I have life; So peace and truce expect not, but war and mortal strife."

XII

"Our grievous need compelled us," in answer Gunther said, "My train before your warriors fell in their quarters dead; How had I e'er deserved it, or they, that b.l.o.o.d.y end?

I came in faith to see thee, I ween'd thou wert my friend."

XIII

Then spake the bold Burgundian, the youthful Giselher, "Ye n.o.ble knights of Etzel, who yet are living here, In what have I offended? or how incurred your blame?

In kind and simple friendship into this land I came."

XIV

"Ah!" said they, "to our sorrow this castle and realm beside Are both full of thy kindness; would you had never hied, Thou and thy b.l.o.o.d.y brethren, from Worms across the Rhine!

You've fill'd our land with orphans;--so much for thee and thine!"

XV

Thereto in angry accents Sir Gunther made reply, "If you would turn to friendship, and this wild hate lay by 'Gainst us home-distant warriors, 'twere well for us and you.

Your king will strike the guiltless if otherwise he do."

XVI

Then to the guests said Etzel, "No equal loss, I trow, Have you and I encounter'd; the toil, the pain, the woe, The shame as well as damage that I have borne to-day-- For this, not one among you shall living hence away."

XVII

Then to the king said Gernot, the death-defying knight, "At least may G.o.d work with you in this to do us right.

If you are resolv'd to slay us, to th' open s.p.a.ce and free Let us come down to meet you; 'twill to your honor be.

XVIII

"Whate'er is to befall us, let it quick be done; 'Gainst such a host of warriors hope can we cherish none.

Scarce can we fight o'erwearied, much less attempt to fly.

How long will you compel us to pant and struggle ere we die?"

XIX