Full upon Hagen rushed he, old Master Hildebrand,
Loud rang the swords fierce-smiting in either hero’s hand.
The crash of their mighty meeting spake out their fury afar.
Flashed from their clashing war-glaives a fire-red wind of war.
Then suddenly were they sundered by the sweep of the tide of fight,
By the inrushing charge of the Bern-folk afire with fury and might.
And as Hildebrand from Hagen on the tempest of battle was whirled,
Wolfhart the strong in that moment against bold Volker hurled.
On the helm of the viol-minstrel so mightily clashed his glaive,
That the steel’s resistless keenness through the bands of the morion clave: