Thirst in this flaming furnace so sore tormenteth me,
That fainteth my life and faileth in this mine agony!”
Then shouted Hagen of Troneg: “O noble knights and good,
Whoso by thirst is tormented, here let him drink of the blood.
In heat thus fiercely scorching better than wine it is:
In this our strait moreover may we find none better than this.”
Then a certain knight which heard him went unto one of the dead;
He bowed him down to the death-gash, he loosed the helm from his head;
He drank of the blood fresh-flowing, and deep and long he quaffed
Of a cup theretofore untasted, and sweet to his lips was the draught.