re cowards. They weep like women, when they
might tend these wounded bodies."

A Margrave that was there deemed he meant this truly. He saw one of his
kinsmen lying in his blood, and put his arms round him to bear him away.
Him the minstrel shot dead.

When the others saw this, they fled, and began to curse Folker. With
that, he lifted a sharp spear and hard from the ground, that a Hun had
shot at him, and hurled it strongly across the courtyard, over the heads
of the folk. Etzel's men took their stand further off, for they all
feared his might.

Then came Etzel with his men before the hall. Folker and Hagen began to
speak out their mind to the King of the Huns. They suffered for it or
all was done.

"It is well for a people when its kings fight in the forefront of the
strife as doeth each of my masters. They hew the helmets, and the blood
spurteth out."

Etzel was brave, and he grasped his shield. "Have a care," cried
Kriemhild, "and offer thy knights gold heaped upon the shield. If Hagen
reach thee, thou hast death at thy hand."

But the king was so bold he would not stop; the which is rare enow among
great princes to-day. They had to pull him back by his shield-thong;
whereat grim Hagen began to mock anew. "Siegfried's darling and Etzel's
are near of kin. Siegfried had Kriemhild to wife or ever she saw thee.
Coward king, thou, of all men, shouldst bear me no grudge."

When Kriemhild heard him, she was bitterly wroth that he durst mock her
before Etzel's warriors, and she strove to work them woe. She said, "To
him that will slay Hagen of Trony and bring me his head, I will fill
Etzel's shield with red gold. Thereto, he shall have, for his meed,
goodly castles and land."

"I know not why ye hang back," said the minstrel. "I never yet saw
heroes stand dismayed that had the offer of such pay. Etzel hath small
cause to love you. I see many cowards standing here that eat the king's
bread, and fail him now in his sore need, and yet call themselves bold
knights. Shame upon them!"

Great Etzel was grieved enow. He wept sore for his dead men and
kinsmen. Valiant warriors of many lands stood round him, and bewailed
his great loss with him.

Then bold Folker mocked them again. "I see many high-born knights
weeping here, that help their king little in his need. Long have they
eaten his bread with shame."

The best among them thought, "He sayeth sooth."

But none mourned so inly as Iring, the