"The Nibelung treasure," replies Hagen scornfully, "has been buried in the deepest Rhine where it shall lie till the last day, and
"'To thee I bring the devil!
In this my buckler have I quite enough to bear,
And also in my armor this helm so fairly wrought
This sword my hand is holding; therefore I bring thee naught.'"
Kriemhilde requests the Burgundians to give up their arms, as is customary, at friendly visits; Hagen refuses. She thus realizes that the Burgundians must have been warned.
"Who has done this?" she inquires angrily. Proudly and firmly Dietrich replies: "It is I, I have warned them; on me, thou, terrible one, wilt not avenge this warning." Before his piercing eye Kriemhilde conceals her boiling anger and retreats, throwing hostile glances upon her enemies. The guests, too, retire guarded by the indefatigable Hagen and Volker. For the last time, Volker's music rings out into the night as he sings in sweet melodies the parting from life. It is the dirge for the Burgundian kings and heroes. Kriemhilde vainly endeavors to enlist Hildebrand and Dietrich to aid her revenge. Both refuse.
"He who will slay the Nibelungs will do it without me," says Hildebrand. Nor will Dietrich break faith to those who came in good faith and from whom he had suffered no harm. He says: "By my hand Siegfried will remain unavenged."
At last the queen by great promises wins Blodel, Etzel's brother. He agrees to attack the lesser knights and the men-at-arms who under Dankwart's command rest in the out-houses. During the surprise, Kriemhilde quietly enters the dining hall of the royal castle where the great heroes are already assembled. Her son Ortlieb, only five years old, is presented by Etzel to his uncles and their favor is bespoken when the prince shall be sent to Burgundy for his education. Now the untamed fury of Hagen suddenly breaks out in a fearful explosion. The fierce savagery of the Migration period, regardless of the Christian varnish of the thirteenth century, in striking contrast to the elegiac traits exhibited in the departure of the kings, in Giselher's betrothal to Dietlinde and voiced in Volker's sweet melodies, reappears in an unheard of act of brutal murder. Hagen exclaims that the young king does not look to him as if he would grow very old; that no one would ever see him in Ortlieb's court. While everybody is yet stunned by the ferocious prophecy of the terrible man, Dankwart breaks into the festal hall and shouts:
"Why do you sit here so long, brother Hagen; to you and to God in heaven do I complain of our distress. Knights and servants lie altogether slain in the outhouse." Indeed, Blodel had kept his word, but lost his life in the attempt. Not one Burgundian escaped the carnage, save Dankwart who succeeded in cutting his way through the press. Hagen sprang up like a wounded lion, the sword shone in his mighty hand, and with one blow the head of the innocent royal child was tossed into the lap of his mother Kriemhilde. This atrocious deed is the signal for a universal carnage. In her deathly agony Kriemhilde appeals to Dietrich, who is at once ready to fulfil his duty toward the queen and consort of his host and protector, Etzel. Dietrich demands peace for himself and his men, who are no participants in the strife. King Gunther bids all go who are not involved in the murder of his men; he will take his revenge but on the retinue of Etzel who are in the plot. Etzel and Kriemhilde, Rudiger of Bechlarn, Dietrich and his retinue, leave the hall. Then the battle began to rage again, until all Etzel's men were slain. Their bodies were hurled by the Burgundians downstairs in front of the door. Intoxicated by the victory, Hagen, in the doorway, reviles Kriemhilde for her second marriage, and the latter, exasperated, promises to fill Etzel's shield with gold for him who would bring her Hagen's head. It is not our task to describe here the battle, the blood flowing in rivulets from the hall to the courtyard. The attempt to obtain a free departure from the hall to die in open battle fails, since Kriemhilde fears Hagen might escape her vengeance. Yet even among those horrors a feature of love and truth is not missing. Giselher, who was hardly a boy when Siegfried was murdered, addresses his sister: