rel hath against us. Never was guest so
unwelcome."

The knight of Bern, and Sir Rudeger, went each to his lodging. They
desired not to meddle with the strife, and they bade their men avoid the
fray.

Had the guests known what hurt the twain would do them after, they had
not won so lightly from the hall, but had gotten a stroke from the bold
ones in passing.

All that they would let go were gone. Then arose a mighty din. The
guests avenged them bitterly. Ha! many a helmet did Folker break!

King Gunther turned his ear to the noise. "Dost thou hear the tunes,
Hagen, that Folker playeth yonder on the Huns, when any would win through
the door? The hue of his bow is red."

"It repenteth me sore," spake Hagen, "to be parted from the knight. I
was his comrade, and he mine. If we win home again, we shall ever be
true friends. See now, great king, how he serveth thee. He earneth thy
silver and thy gold. His fiddle-bow cleaveth the hard steel, and
scattereth on the ground the bright jewels on the helmets. Never have I
seen a minstrel make such stand. His measures ring through helmet and
shield. Good horse shall he ride, and wear costly apparel."

Of the Huns that had been in the hall, not one was left alive. The
tumult fell, for there was none to fight, and the bold warriors laid down
their swords.

Thirty-Fourth Adventure

How They Threw Down the Dead

The knights sat down through weariness. Folker and Hagen went out before
the hall. There the overweening men leaned on their shields and spake
together.

Then said Giselher of Burgundy, "Rest not yet, dear friends. Ye must
carry the dead out of the house. We shall be set upon again; trow my
word. These cannot lie longer among our feet. Or the Huns overcome us,
we will hew many wounds; to the which I am nothing loth."

"Well for me that I have such a lord," answered Hagen. "This counsel
suiteth well such a knight as our young master hath approved him this
day. Ye Burgundians have cause to rejoice."

They did as he commanded, and bare the seven thousand dead bodies to the
door, and threw them out. They fell down at the foot of the stair. Then
arose a great wail from their kinsmen. Some of them were so little
wounded that, with softer nursing, they had come to. Now, from the fall,
these died also. Their friends wept and made bitter dole.

Then said bold Folker the fiddler, "Now I perceive they spake the truth
that told me the Huns we