champion was armed again. Through hate he seized a passing heavy spear
with which he would encounter Hagen yonder. Meantime the death-grim
man awaited him in hostile wise. But Knight Hagen would not abide his
coming. Hurling the javelin and brandishing his sword, he ran to meet
him to the very bottom of the stairs. Forsooth his rage was great.
Little booted Iring then his strength; through the shields they smote,
so that the flames rose high in fiery blasts. Hagen sorely wounded
Hawart's liegeman with his sword through shield and breastplate. Never
waxed he well again. When now Knight Iring felt the wound, higher above
his helmet bands he raised his shield. Great enow he thought the scathe
he here received, but thereafter King Gunther's liegeman did him more of
harm. Hagen found a spear lying now before his feet. With this he shot
Iring, the Danish hero, so that the shaft stood forth from his head.
Champion Hagen had given him a bitter end. Iring must needs retreat
to those of Denmark. Or ever they unbound his helmet and drew the
spear-shaft from his head, death had already drawn nigh him. At this his
kinsmen wept, as forsooth they had great need.

Then the queen came and bent above him. She gan bewail the stalwart
Iring and bewept his wounds, indeed her grief was passing sharp. At this
the bold and lusty warrior spake before his kinsmen: "Let be this wail,
most royal queen. What availeth your weeping now? Certes, I must lose
my life from these wounds I have received. Death will no longer let me
serve you and Etzel." To the men of Thuringia and to those of Denmark he
spake: "None of you must take from the queen her shining ruddy gold as
meed, for if ye encounter Hagen, ye must gaze on death."

Pale grew his hue; brave Iring bare the mark of death. Dole enow it
gave them, for no longer might Hawart's liegeman live. Then the men
of Denmark must needs renew the fray. Irnfried and Hawart with well a
thousand champions leaped toward the hall. On every side one heard a
monstrous uproar, mighty and strong. Ho, what sturdy javelins were cast
at the Burgundian men! Bold Irnfried rushed at the minstrel, but gained
great damage at his hands. Through his sturdy helmet the noble fiddler
smote the landgrave. Certes, he was grim enow! Then Sir Irnfried dealt
the valiant gleeman such a blow that his coat of mail burst open and
his breastplate was enveloped with a bright red flame. Yet the landgrave
fell dead at the minstrel's hands.