awart's liegeman. "Gladly will I perform
what I have vowed, nor will I desist therefrom through any fear. However
frightful Hagen be, I will meet him single-handed."

On his knees Iring begged both kinsmen and vassals to let him match the
knight alone. This they did unwillingly, for well they knew the haughty
Hagen from the Burgundian land. But Iring begged so long that at last
it happed. When the fellowship beheld his wish and that he strove for
honor, they let him go. Then a fierce conflict rose between the twain.
Iring of Denmark, the peerless high-born knight, bare high his spear and
covered him with his shield. Swiftly he rushed on Hagen before the hall,
while a great shout arose from all the knights around. With might and
main they cast the spears with their hands through the sturdy shields
upon their shining armor, so that the shafts whirled high in air. Then
the two brave men and fierce reached for their swords. Bold Hagen's
strength was mickle and great, but Iring smote him, that the whole hall
rang. Palace and towers resounded from their blows, but the knight could
not achieve his wish.

Iring now left Hagen stand unharmed, and hied him to the fiddler. He
weened to fell him by his mighty blows, but the stately knight wist how
to guard bin, well. Then the fiddler struck a blow, that the plates of
mail whirled high above the buckler's rim. An evil man he was, for
to encounter, so Iring let him stand and rushed at Gunther of the
Burgundian land. Here, too, either was strong enow in strife. The blows
that Gunther and Iring dealt each other drew no blood from wounds. This
the harness hindered, the which was both strong and good.

He now let Gunther be, and ran at Gernot, and gan hew sparks of fire
from his armor rings. Then had stalwart Gernot of Burgundy nigh done
brave Iring unto death, but that he sprang away from the prince (nimble
enow he was), and slew eftsoon four noble henchmen of the Burgundians
from Worms across the Rhine. At this Giselher might never have waxed
more wroth. "God wot, Sir Iring," spake Giselher, the youth, "ye must
pay me weregild (1) for those who have fallen dead this hour before
you."

Then at him he rushed and smote the Dane, so that he could not stir a
step, but sank before his hands down in the blood, so that all did ween
the good knight would never deal a blow again in strife. But Iring lay
unwounded here before Sir Giselher. From the crashing of the helmet
and the ringing of th