And he gave command to be silent unto all his mighty men,
Howsoever they chafed, from saying one word that should chafe their guest.
Mid the hush flew a peace-dove, a vision of Kriemhild, to Siegfried’s breast.
“For what cause should we battle against thee?” yet again did Gernot cry:
“Yea, though a host of the good knights in the grapple of fight should die,
Small honour were ours, small profit were thine, of such strife unmeet!”
Yet again did the son of Siegmund, Siegfried, his challenge repeat:
“Why linger they, Hagen and Ortwein?—why hang they yet aback,
They and their friends, their champions, from the storm of the battle-wrack?
And of all Burgundia’s chosen is none to the combat stirred?”