But their pride thought scorn of complaining, and nought unto him would they tell.
To the minster-door paced Kriemhild with a multitude in her train;
Yet to step aside at her coming they two would nowise deign
Two handbreadths: wroth were the Hunfolk, as men that chafe being wronged,
For in passing the stalwart heroes their Queen was jostled and thronged.
Wroth with their reckless defiance were Etzel’s chamberlains:
Full fain from the path had they thrust them, and angered those insolent thanes,
Had they but dared in the presence of the great King to do aught.
So then there was thronging and pressing, but more than this was there nought.
When again they turned them homeward from holy chant and prayer,