(C) The heart of Etzel the mighty was shaken with grief and groan: For his kin and his perished liegemen did he make bitter moan. From many a land around him stood knights on every side, And wept with the King for the sorrow of that heavy festal tide. (C) Once more the aweless Volker set him to gibe and jeer: "Warriors I see full many with false tears weeping here; But little do they for the helping of their king in his evil case. They eat the bread of their master to their shame and confusion of face!" (C) And their best in their hearts acknowledged, "That Volker saith is truth." And of all that throng was no man more stung with shame and ruth Than Iring, Lord of the Marches, a knight from the land of the Dane; And in sooth in no long season he proved it in battle-strain.
Then shouted the Margrave Iring, the lord of the Danefolk's land: "Ever on quest of honour have I set mine heart and hand, And have done my best endeavour where surges of fight tossed high. Bring me mine harness! My prowess against yon Hagen I try." "Thou shalt do it to thy destruction!" did Hagen scornfully say. "Thou shouldst better bid these Hunfolk to shrink yet farther away. Though twain, yea, three of you rushing essay to win this hall, Back grievously hurt will I send them; adown this stair shall they fall." "Not for thy threats I refrain me!" cried Iring with shining eyes. "Full oft ere this have I ventured on as perilous emprise. Alone will I withstand thee, and not with words, but the sword. What care I for all thy vaunting, O thou tongue-valiant lord?"
Then with speed was the good thane Iring sheathed in knightly mail And Irnfried of Thuringia, a heart unused to quail, And Hawart the strong, with a thousand warriors in battle-array, Stood eager to go where Iring the hero led the way. Then looked the viol-minstrel, and beheld that huge war-band That would press on after Iring, armed all with shield and brand, And upon their heads had they settled and laced the helmets bright. Then was the valiant Volker exceeding wroth at the sight. "Seest thou, friend Hagen," he shouted, "how Iring cometh on, He that but now made proffer to meet thee in battle alone? Is it seemly that heroes be liars? contempt upon such I pour. Lo, armed at his side come onward a thousand knights or more!"