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“And clutching at my broadsword, I paid him back again

With blows that deeply wounded; so was the hero slain.

Amends therefore I’ll make thee, howe’er thou thinkest good.”

Then fell the two to wrangle: both were of stubborn mood.

“Full well I knew,” said Gelfrat, “that when this way did ride

Gunther and his retainers, much ill would us betide

Through Hagen, lord of Tronjé. Not hence alive goes he;

For my poor boatman’s murder he must the forfeit be.”

Above their bucklers bent they their lances for the thrust,

Sir Gelfrat and Sir Hagen; each at the other must.

Then Else, too, and Dankwart came riding gallantly,

To try each other’s mettle;  the fight raged fiercely.

How otherwise might heroes more featly try their strength?

By a hard lance-thrust smitten Hagen the bold, at length,

From off his horse fell backwards, by Gelfrat’s hand laid low

His saddle-bow was broken and downfall he must know.

Among the yeomen’s lances arose a clashing sound.

Then up again rose Hagen, who, whilom on the ground

From Gelfrat’s blow, had fallen upon the meadow-grass.

His mood, methinks, to Gelfrat of sort ungentle was.

Who held in charge their horses, that is to me unknown;

The twain were now dismounted and on the sand stood down,—

Hagen, to wit, and Gelfrat, who at each other flew;

The folk of either aided — who of the combat knew.