Thou shalt so draw over the boatman by the lure of the name that he knows.”
Then bowed him Hagen the haughty to those weird women twain;
But he sought no more of their counsel, and from speech did he refrain.
Up-stream by the swirling waters close to the verge he hied,
Till he marked where a little hostel stood on the farther side.
Then Hagen his voice uplifted, and he shouted across the flood:
“Ho! ferry me over, thou boatman,” cried the thane in battle good,
“And I will give thee an armlet of red gold for thine hire.
Sore is my need of the crossing, and eager my desire.”
Now this ferryman nowise needed to ply, so rich was he.