rvel much," said Hagen, "what the Hunnish knights whisper in each
other's ears. I ween they could well spare him that standeth at the
door, and hath brought this court news to the Burgundians. I have long
heard Kriemhild say that she could not bear her heart's dole. Now drink
we to Love, and taste the king's wine. The young prince of the Huns
shall be the first."

With that, Hagen slew the child Ortlieb, that the blood gushed down on
his hand from his sword, and the head flew up into the queen's lap. Then
a slaughter grim and great arose among the knights. He slew the child's
guardian with a sword stroke from both his hands, that the head fell down
before the table. It was sorry pay he gave the tutor. He saw a minstrel
sitting at Etzel's table, and sprang at him in wrath, and lopped off his
right hand on his viol: "Take that for the message thou broughtest to the
Burgundians."

"Woe is me for my hand!" cried Werbel. "Sir Hagen of Trony, what have I
done to thee? I rode with true heart to thy master's land. How shall I
make my music now?"

Little recked Hagen if he never fiddled more. He quenched on Etzel's
knights, in the house there, his grim lust for blood, and smote to death
not a few.

Swift Folker sprang from the table; his fiddle-bow rang loud. Harsh were
the tunes of Gunther's minstrel. Ha! many a foe he made among the Huns!

The three kings, too, rose hastily. They would have parted them or more
harm was done. But they could not, for Folker and Hagen were beside
themselves with rage.

When the King of Rhineland could not stint the strife, he, also, smote
many a deep wound through the shining harness of his foemen. Well he
showed his hardihood.

Then stark Gernot came into the battle, and slew many Huns with the sharp
sword that Rudeger had given him. He brought many of Etzel's knights to
their graves therewith.

Uta's youngest son sprang into the fray, and pierced the helmets of
Etzel's knights valiantly with his weapon. Bold Giselher's hand did
wonderly.

But howso valiant all the others were, the kings and their men, Folker
stood up bolder than any against the foes; he was a hero; he wounded
many, that they fell down in their blood.

Etzel's liegemen warded them well, but the guests hewed their way with
their bright swords up and down the hall. From all sides came the sound
of wailing. They that were without would gladly have won in to their
friends, but could not; and they th