Dankwart, Hagen's brother, / was a warrior grim.
What erstwhile in combat / had been wrought by him
Against the men of Etzel / seemed now as toying vain,
As fought with flaming ire / the son of valiant Aldrian.
Ritschart and Gerbart, / Helfrich and Wichart
Had oft in storm of battle / with valor borne their part,
As now 'fore men of Gunther / they did clear display.
Likewise saw ye Wolfbrand / glorious amid the fray.
There old Master Hildebrand / fought as he were wode.
Many a doughty warrior / was stricken in the blood
By the sword that swinging / in Wolfhart's hand was seen.
Thus took dire vengeance / for Ruediger those knights full keen.
Havoc wrought Sir Siegstab / there with might and main.
Ho! in the hurly-burly / what helms he cleft in twain
Upon the crowns of foemen, / Dietrich's sister's son!
Ne'er in storm of battle / had he more feats of valor done.
When the doughty Volker / there aright had seen
How many a bloody rivulet / was hewn by Siegstab keen
From out the well-wrought mail-rings, / the hero's ire arose.
Quick he sprang toward him, / Siegstab then his life must lose.