Into the hall then Dankwart / cried with voice full strong:
"At table, brother Hagen, / thou sittest all too long.
To thee and God in heaven / must I sore complain:
Knights and squires also / lie within their lodging slain."
Straight he cried in answer: / "Who hath done such deed?"
"That hath done Sir Bloedel / and knights that he did lead.
Eke made he meet atonement, / that may'st thou understand:
His head from off his body / have I struck with mine own hand."
"'Tis little cause for sorrow," / Hagen spake again,
"When they tell the story / of a valiant thane,
That he to death was smitten / by knight of high degree.
The less a cause for weeping / to winsome women shall it be.
"Now tell me, brother Dankwart, / how thou so red may'st be;
From thy wounds thou sufferest, / I ween, full grievously.
Lives he within this country / who serves thee in such way,
Him must the devil shelter, / or for the deed his life shall pay."
"Behold me here all scatheless. / My gear is wet with blood,
From wounds of others, natheless, / now hath flowed that flood,
Of whom this day so many / beneath my broadsword fell:
Must I make solemn witness, / ne'er knew I full the tale to tell."