Thereon the margrave Iring, who came from Denmark, cried:
“I have in all my doings on honour long relied,
And in the people’s battles oft gain’d the mastery:
Now bring to me my weapons; Hagen I will defy!”

“ ’Gainst that will I take counsel,” Hagen in answer cried;
“So bid these Hunnish warriors stand further yet aside;
If two or three among ye should rush into this hall,
Back down the stairs disabled I’ll send them, one and all!”

“For that I’ll not forego it,” said Iring, answering,
“I have ere this attempted as troublesome a thing.
With sword in hand against thee I’ll hold my own alone;
What boots thy haughty bearing that thou in words hast shown?”

Then quickly in his armour thane Iring was y-clad,
With Irnfried of Thuringia, a bold and gallant lad,
And eke the stalwart Haward, with full a thousand men;
Whatever part was Iring’s, that would they all maintain.

The fiddler saw them coming⁠— a very host they were⁠—
In arms along with Iring, to set upon him there.
On head, well-fasten’d, wore they right many a helmet good.
Then wax’d the gallant Volker wrathful enough in mood.

“Now dost thou see, friend Hagen, how Iring yonder goes,
Who swore that thee in sword-fight he singly would oppose?
Doth falsehood fit a hero? Him I misprize therefore;
He brings with him in armour a thousand men or more!”

“Now call me not a liar,” the liege of Haward said,
“I’m ready to accomplish what I have promisèd;
For fear of no man living will I my word disown;
How dread so e’er be Hagen, I’ll stand to him alone.”

Then Iring begg’d his kinsmen and followers, at their feet,
That they would let him singly in fight the warrior meet.
Unwillingly they yielded, for well enough to them
Was known the haughty Hagen, from Burgundy who came.

Yet he so long besought them, that ’twas at last agreed.
For when his people saw him so bent upon the deed,
And that he strove for honour, they could but let him go;
Thereon a grim encounter befell betwixt the two.

Iring, the thane of Denmark, aloft his javelin bare
And held his shield before him, that noble knight and rare;
Then up the steps to Hagen before the hall he ran:
Amongst the thanes assembled a fearful din began.

Then from their hands the lances they forward hurl’d with might,
Right through the strong-bound bucklers upon the harness bright,
So that the broken spear-shafts were whirl’d high in the air.
Then clutch’d they at their broadswords that grim and gallant pair.

The strength of doughty Hagen it was a mighty thing,
Yet Iring’s blows upon him made all the house to ring;
From palace and from turret echo’d their strokes again:
Yet naught avail’d the warrior his will on him to gain.

So Iring turn’d from Hagen and left him scatheless yet;
Against the fiddle-player forthwith himself he set.
Him, with his sturdy sword-strokes he thought he might compel;
But these the well-skill’d chieftain knew how to parry well.

Then smote the fiddler sorely, till o’er the buckler’s side
By Volker’s hand the plating was scatter’d far and wide;
So was he fain to leave him, a gruesome man was he;
Then Iring rush’d on Gunther, the lord of Burgundy.

And stout enough for combat was either of them made.
Howe’er on one another Gunther and Iring laid,
Neither could wound the other to draw a drop of blood;
From that their armour saved them, so strong it was and good.

Eke Gunther left he standing and on to Gernot ran,
And smote till from his hauberk the sparks to fly began,
And yet the sturdy Gernot, the knight of Burgundy,
So dealt on gallant Iring that he was like to die.

Then from this prince he hurried⁠— swift-footed was he too⁠—
And four of the Burgundians the hero quickly slew;⁠—
All noble court retainers from Worms-on-Rhine they were.
Then wrath could ne’er be greater than that of Giselher.

“Now, by the Lord! Sir Iring,” cried Giselher the lad,
“For these thou needs must pay me who lie before thee dead⁠—
By thee this moment slaughter’d;” then ran on him straightway
And smote the knight of Denmark so that he needs must stay.

Beneath his hands succumbing down fell he in the blood;
And all were well persuaded that now the hero good
Ne’er more would wield a weapon in battle anywhere:
Yet Iring lay unwounded in front of Giselher.

From blows upon the helmet and clashing of the sword
His wits were sorely stricken and scatter’d all abroad,
So that the gallant warrior of life took no more thought:
This by his strength of body bold Giselher had wrought.

When from his head the numbness at last began to go,
Which had erstwhile come on him from that o’erwhelming blow,
Thought he: “I still am living, nor wounded anywhere;
Now know I for the first time the strength of Giselher.”

On one side and the other his enemies heard he;
Were they his case aware of the worse for him ’twould be;
And likewise had he noted that Giselher was by:
He ponder’d how ’twas likely he might these foemen fly.

How madly then upsprang he from out that bloody stew!
Unto his ready fleetness his thanks were surely due.
Out of the place forth rush’d he, but there saw Hagen stand,
And smote upon him swiftly with all his might of hand.

Then to himself thought Hagen: “Death thee for this must have!
Unless the devil help thee, thyself thou canst not save.”
Yet Iring through the helmet a wound on Hagen made:
This did the knight with Vaske, that was so good a blade.

No sooner felt Sir Hagen the smarting of the wound
Than terribly his weapon he whirl’d in hand around.
Forthwith must Haward’s liegeman for safety flee again,
And Hagen down the stairway to follow him was fain.

Above his head bold Iring his shield made haste to lean;
And if that self-same stairway yet thrice its length had been,
Hagen had ne’er allow’d him to deal a single stroke.
Ay me! the sparks so ruddy that from his helmet broke!

Yet back unto his people Iring in safety won.
Then soon unto Kriemhilda the tidings were made known
How he had wrought in battle on Hagen of Tronjé;
For which her thanks right hearty the queen began to say:

“Now God reward thee, Iring, a hero good thou art;
Much hast thou me encouraged and comforted my heart.
Lo, now on Hagen’s raiment all red with blood I look!”
With her own hand Kriemhilda his shield, in kindness, took.

“So much you need not thank him,” quoth Hagen; “if again
With me he’d try his fortune, it would beseem the thane.
If ever thence return’d he, a valiant man he’d be!
The wound will serve you little that he hath given to me.

“That you have seen my hauberk by blood of mine made red,
Unto the death of many hath me embitterèd.
Against that liege of Haward’s I have the utmost wrath;⁠—
Albeit the warrior Iring hath done me little scathe.”

Meanwhile the man of Denmark into the wind had gone
To cool him in his hauberk⁠— his helmet off was done.
And all the folk were saying his prowess was right good;
Whereby they made the margrave exceeding bold of mood.

Then presently spake Iring: “My friends, now mark ye well
That ye must arm me quickly: I’ll try another spell,
If that o’erbearing tyrant I yet may bring to book.”
His shield was hack’d to pieces: a better one he took.

Full speedily the warrior was better arm’d than e’er;
A javelin right sturdy with hate in heart he bare,
Wherewith once more with Hagen he purposed there to fight:
With foe-like mien awaited for him that murderous wight.

But brook’d not the thane Hagen to stay for his advance;⁠—
He ran full speed towards him, with blows of sword and lance,
Until he reach’d the stairs’ foot: his wrath was fierce and dread,
And all the strength of Iring stood him in little stead.

They slash’d right through the bucklers, till each of them began
With ruddy fire to sparkle. And ere long Haward’s man
By the broadsword of Hagen was desperately smit
Through shield and armour: never mote he get well of it.

When that the chieftain Iring was of the wound aware,
His shield unto his helm-band he raised, to rest it there.
He thought that with this damage he now had got his fill:
The liegeman of King Gunther had more to give him still.

Before his feet did Hagen a javelin espy;
And with it straight at Iring, the Danish chief, let fly⁠—
So well, that from his forehead the shaft thereof stuck out.
For him the warrior Hagen a cruel end had wrought.

Iring must needs betake him the Danish folk unto;
But ere they loosed the helmet from off the chief, they drew
Out from his head the lance-shaft; then death to him came nigh.
His kinsfolk all were wailing: well might they, verily.

Then came the queen towards him, and over him she leant,
And for the stalwart Iring gave to her sorrow vent;
She wept, his wounds beholding, and bitter was her grief.
Then spake unto his kinsmen that brave and gallant chief:

“I pray thee stint thy weeping, most noble lady mine,
For what avails thy sorrow? I must my life resign
Because of wounds and damage that have been dealt on me.
No more will death allow me Etzel to serve and thee.”

Then unto the Thuringians and to the Danes he spake:
“The gifts that ye were promised no hand of yours shall take
From yonder royal lady⁠— her ruddy gold so bright!
Death’s visage must ye look on, if ye with Hagen fight.”

All pallid was his colour, the seal of death he bore⁠—
The ever-valiant Iring⁠— to them ’twas sorrow sore.
For Haward’s gallant liegeman there was no hope of life:
And so the men of Denmark must forward go to strife.

Irnfried as well as Haward sprang forth the hall before
With warriors a thousand; a horrible uproar
On every side resounded, mighty and clamouring.
And ah, at the Burgundians what lances sharp they fling!

And then the gallant Irnfried straight for the minstrel made,
At whose right hand redoubted great injury he had.
For lo, the noble fiddler the landgrave sore did smite
Through firmly-fasten’d helmet: he was a gruesome wight!

And thereupon Sir Irnfried the valiant minstrel smote
Till rents perforce were riven across his ring-wrought coat,
And all his breastplate quiver’d with sparks of fiery red;
Albeit fell the landgrave before the fiddler dead.

Anon were met together Haward and Hagen bold,
I wot that whoso saw them a marvel might behold!
From hand of either hero the sword-strokes follow’d free;
Foredoom’d to die was Haward by him of Burgundy.

When Danesmen and Thuringians their leaders saw in death,
Then rose a frightful struggle the palace walls beneath,
Or ever they the gateway by might and main had won:
Full many a shield and helmet were shatter’d and fordone.

“Give way!” then shouted Volker, “and let them all come through⁠—
What they would fain accomplish they can in nowise do.
In but a short time after they’re bound to die within,
And what the queen hath promised by dying they can win.”

Now when these haughty chieftains within the chamber went,
Of many a one amongst them the head was lowly bent,
For by their rapid sword-blows to perish he was fain.
Well fought the gallant Gernot, and Giselher the thane.

There got within the palace a thousand men and four;
One saw their flashing falchions as through the air they tore.
Of all who came within it soon every warrior fell.
One might of the Burgundians full many a marvel tell.

Thereafter was a silence, and all the uproar died.
While, out of hole and crevice, blood flow’d on every side
And ran into the gutters from all the corpses there.
Thus had the men of Rhineland wrought by their prowess rare.

Then sat they down to rest them, those men of Burgundy.
Their weapons and their bucklers they presently laid by.
Yet still the gallant fiddler before the palace stay’d,
In case that any other to fight with him essay’d.

The king lamented sorely, as likewise did his wife:
And maids and matrons also aweary were of life.
I ween that Death had taken an oath to do them ill:
Whence, by the guests to perish were many warriors still.