From the blood he started; pressing was his need;
Sure for his good fortune he might thank his speed.
From the house he darted just where Hagan stood,
And struck at him in passing with all the force he could.
XXIV
Then thought the Knight of Trony, "Thou'rt in the clutch of death;
Sure, but the devil guard thee, thou canst not 'scape with breath."
Yet with a wound through th' head-piece he straight Sir Hagan paid;
That did the knight with Wasky, his sharp and peerless blade.
XXV
Soon as fierce Sir Hagan felt the gash and pain,
With his sword uplifted he rush'd upon the Dane.
No more against his fury could Hawart's man make head;
Swift down the stairs Sir Hagan pursued him as he fled.
XXVI
Above his head bold Iring held up his buckler strong;
Had that same scanty staircase been full trice as long,
No time had Hagan left him to strike a single stroke.
Ah! what a shower of sparkles red from his morion broke!
XXVII
Yet safe and sound Sir Iring came to his friends again.
Soon then were told to Kriemhild th' achievements of the Dane,
And what he unto Hagan had done with his good blade.
Thus unto the warrior her fervent thanks she paid.