Then to the fearless Dankwart the minstrel-knight 'gan say,
"You must have surely suffered sore press and toil to-day.
Sent hither by your brother to aid you I have been.
If you'll without be warder, I'll keep the door within."
XXIX
Firm the nimble Dankwart stood outside the door;
All who the stairs were mounting down drove he evermore;
In the grasp of the warriors their swords clash'd fearfully.
The like within did stoutly Folker of Burgundy.
Loud the valiant minstrel shouted o'er the throng,
"The hall is shut, friend Hagan! the locks are firm and strong.
The hands of two stout warriors King Etzel's door secure;
A thousand bolts, believe me, would not be half so sure."
When Hagan saw the portal secur'd against attack,
By the thong his buckler the fiery chief threw back,
And whirl'd his sword for vengeance with huge two-handed sway;
No hope had then his foemen with life to come away.
XXXII
When good Sir Dietrich noted how with each swashing stroke
The furious Lord of Trony a Hunnish morion broke,
On to a bench straight leapt he, to see the knights of Rhine.
Said he, "Sure Hagan's serving the very worst of wine."