Came eke the doughty Volker, / a noble minstrel he,
With thirty goodly warriors / to join the company,
Who wore so rich attire / 'twould fit a monarch well.
That he would fare to Hunland, / bade he unto Gunther tell.
Who was this same Volker / that will I let you know:
He was a knight full noble, / to him did service owe
Many a goodly warrior / in the land of Burgundy.
For that he well could fiddle, / named the Minstrel eke was he.
Thousand men chose Hagen, / who well to him were known.
What things in storm of battle / their doughty arm had done,
Or what they wrought at all times, / that knew he full well.
Nor of them might e'er mortal / aught but deeds of valor tell.
The messengers of Kriemhild, / full loath they were to wait,
For of their master's anger / stood they in terror great.
Each day for leave to journey / more great their yearning grew,
But daily to withhold it / crafty Hagen pretext knew.
He spake unto his master: / "Well shall we beware
Hence to let them journey / ere we ourselves prepare
In seven days thereafter / to ride to Etzel's land:
If any mean us evil, / so may we better understand.