en he
heareth this name."

Haughty Hagen bowed then to the dames; he spake no more, but held his
peace. Then by the river he hied him higher up upon the sandy shore,
to where he found an inn upon the other bank. Loudly he began to call
across the flood: "Now come and fetch me, ferryman," quoth the good
knight, "and I will give thee as meed an arm ring of ruddy gold. Know,
that of this passage I have great need in truth."

So noble was the ferryman that it behooved him not to serve, therefore
he full seldom took wage of any wight. His squires, too, were full lofty
of mood. All this time Hagen still stood alone, this side of the flood.
He called with might and main, that all the water rang, for mickle and
great was the hero's strength. "Now fetch me. I am Amelrich, Else's
liegeman, that because of a great feud did void these lands."

High upon his spear (9) he offered him an arm band, bright and fair it
was, of ruddy gold, that one should ferry him over to Gelfrat's land.
The haughty ferryman, the which was newly wed himself, did take the oar
in hand. As he would earn Hagen's gold so red, therefore he died the
sword-grim death at the hands of the knight. The greed for great goods
(10) doth give an evil end. Speedily the boatman rowed across to the
sandy bank. When he found no trace of him whose name he heard, wroth he
grew in earnest. When he spied Hagen, with fierce rage he spake to the
hero: "Ye may perchance hight Amelrich, but ye are not like him whom
I weened here. By father and by mother he was my brother. Sith ye have
bewrayed me, ye may stay on this hither shore."

"No, by the mighty God," spake then Hagen, "I am a stranger knight and
have warriors in my care. Now take ye kindly my meed to-day and ferry me
over. I am in truth your friend."

The ferryman replied: "This may not be. My dear lords have foes,
wherefore I never ferry strangers to this land. If ye love your life,
step out quickly on the sand."

"Now do it not," spake Hagen; "sad is my mind. Take this good gold from
me as a token of my love and ferry us across: a thousand horse and just
as many men."

The grim boatman answered: "'Twill ne'er be done." He raised a mighty
rudder oar, mickle and broad, and struck at Hagen (full wroth he grew
at this), so that he fell upon his knees in the boat. The lord of Troneg
had never met so fierce a ferryman. Still more the boatman would vex the
haughty stranger. He smote with an oar, so that it quite to-broke