And he pondered how from the foemen that ringed him round he should fly.
From the blood like a very madman upsprang to his feet the knight—
Well might he thank his fleetness for speeding thence his flight!
As out through the door he darted, lo, there did Hagen stand,
And the Dane hailed blows upon him with swift and sudden hand.
Then Hagen thought: “Thou art surely now in the clutches of death!
Except the Foul Fiend help thee, thou drawest thy latest breath!”
Yet indeed had he wounded Hagen with a stroke through his helm that clave:
That deed had he done with Waske, a mighty battle-glaive.
When Hagen the grim-hearted of the wound so dealt was ware,