Straight saw ye upon Hagen / rush Master Hildebrand,
And sword ye heard give music / in each foeman's hand.
Sore they were enragéd, / as ye soon were ware,
For from their swinging broadswords / whirred the ruddy sparks in air.
Yet soon the twain were parted / in the raging fight:
The men of Bern so turned it / by their dauntless might.
Ere long then was Hildebrand / from Hagen turned away,
While that the doughty Wolfhart / the valiant Volker sought to slay.
Upon the helm the Fiddler / he smote with blow so fierce
That the sword's keen edges / unto the frame did pierce.
With mighty stroke repaid him / the valiant minstrel too,
And so belabored Wolfhart / that thick the sparks around him flew.
Hewing they made the fire / from mail-rings scintillate,
For each unto the other / bore a deadly hate.
Of Bern the thane Wolfwein / at length did part the two,—
Which thing might none other / than man of mickle prowess do.
Gunther, knight full gallant, / received with ready hand
There the stately warriors / of Amelungen land.
Eke did young Giselher / of many a helmet bright,
With blood all red and reeking, / cause to grow full dim the light.