Cried Aldrian’s son: “My torment is greater than man may bear!
Give way, ye knights of the Hunfolk; let me win forth to free air,
That over the warfare-weary the cooling breeze may play!”
To the door through blows down-hailing he gallantly hewed his way.
When the battle-weary champion forth of the portal sprang,
How many swords unblooded then on his helmet rang
Wielded by them who had seen not the marvels wrought by his hand!
Forth leapt to meet them the hero, the pride of Burgundia-land.
“Now would to God,” cried Dankwart, “that a messenger were but nigh,
Who should tell my brother Hagen of mine extremity,