ity, and would have
escorted him peacefully to his father's kingdom. If he would break his
fealty to Gunther, said Walthar, he should depart rich, his shield full
of red gold. Irritated at such an offer, Hagen replied that he would not
be deluded, and that for Walthar's slaying of his kinsmen he must have
vengeance. So saying, he hurled his spear at Walthar, which the latter
avoided. Gunther then cast a shaft which was equally harmless. Then,
drawing their swords and covering themselves with their shields, the
Franks sought to close with the Aquitainian, who kept them at bay with
his spear. As their shorter swords could not reach past Walthar's mighty
shaft, Gunther attempted to recover the spear which he had cast and
which lay before the hero's feet, and told Hagen to go in front; but as
he was about to pick it up from the ground Walthar perceived his device
and, placing his foot upon it, flung Gunther on his knees, and would
have slain him had not Hagen, rushing to his aid, managed to cover him
with his shield.

The struggle continued. The hot sunshine came down, and the champions
were bathed in sweat. Walthar, tired of the strife, took the offensive,
and springing at Hagen, with a great stroke of his spear carried away
a part of his armour. Then with a marvellous blow of his sword he smote
off the king's leg as far as the thigh. He would have dispatched him
with a second blow, but Hagen threw himself over Gunther's body and
received the sword-stroke on his own head. So well tempered was his helm
that the blade flew in flinders, shivered to the handle.

Instantly Walthar looked about him for another weapon, but quick
as thought Hagen seized the opportunity and cut off his right hand,
"fearful to peoples and princes." But, undismayed, the hero inserted the
wounded stump into the shield, and drawing with his left hand a Hunnish
half-sword girt to his right side, he struck at Hagen so fiercely that
he bereft him of his right eye, cutting deep into the temple and
lips and striking out six of his teeth. But neither might fight more:
Gunther's leg, Walthar's hand, and Hagen's eye lay on the ground. They
sat down on the heath and stanched with flowers the flowing stream of
their blood. They called to them Hildegund, who bound up their wounds
and brought them wine.

Wounded as they were, they cracked many a joke over their cups, as
heroes should.

"Friend," said Hagen, "when thou huntest the stag, of whose leather
mayest