Tomorn we return right early, if this to the King seem best.”
Then the host with blithe leave-taking let all depart to their rest.
But the Queen’s folk thronged and beset them, and pressed on every side.
Then out spake Volker the dreadless, and unto the Huns he cried:
“What mean ye to bar and to cumber our feet, discourteous crew?
If ye from our path avoid not, mischief shall light upon you!
Upon some this bow of my viol so heavily shall smite,
That whoso there be that love them shall weep for their woeful plight.
Hence from our path! Meseemeth it were best that ye block not our way!
Knights these name them—but little enow of the knight have they!”