He saw him blood-bespatter'd, with weed all dabbled o'er; He knew not 'twas his master stretch'd on the reeking floor; In went he to the chamber; with him the light he took, By which on such deep horror sad Kriemhild was to look.

VI

As she now with her maidens to church would take her way, The chamberlain bespoke her; "Lady, a little stay; A murder'd knight is lying close before the sill."

"O woe!" cried fearful Kriemhild, "what means this tale of ill?"

VII

Ere yet she could see clearly 'twas her lord who lay there lay slain, The question put by Hagan rush'd to her mind again, How he could guard her husband; then anguish first she felt.

From his death for ever with lingering grief she dwelt.

VIII

To earth down sank she senseless, that not a word she spoke.

There lay the fair, the friendless, beneath that mortal stroke.

Then, from her swoon reviving, up from the ground she sprang, And shriek'd so shrill and sudden, that all the chamber rang.

IX

Then said her trembling maidens, "What stranger here lies slain?"

From her mouth a b.l.o.o.d.y torrent burst through heart-quelling pain.

"No, no!" said she, "'tis Siegfried, my love, that there lies low.

'Twas Brunhild gave the counsel, and Hagan struck the blow."

X

Thither where the corpse was lying, her maids their lady led; With her lily hand, all trembling, she raised his languish'd head; Howe'er with blood 'twas dabbled, her lord at once she knew.

There lay the Chief of Netherland, a piteous sight to view.

XI

Then weeping thus and wailing the queen her sorrows pour'd; "Woe's me, woe's me for ever! sure no fair foeman's sword Shiver'd thy failing buckler; 'twas murder stopp'd thy breath; O that I knew who did it! death I'd requite with death."

XII

Then wept and wail'd full shrilly her gentle maidens all With their beloved mistress; woe were they for the fall Of their n.o.ble master there in his blood embrued.

Hagan the wrath of Brunhild had wreak'd with deadly feud.

XIII

Then spake the sorrow-laden, "Go hence with your best speed, Quick call up Siegfried's liegemen, his warriors good at need; To Siegmund, too, let tidings of my deep loss be borne, That he may help his daughter his murder'd son to mourn."

XIV

A messenger ran quickly, and came where slept the band Of Siegfried's chosen champions from the Nibelunger's land.

Their merry cheer his tidings chang'd to sorrow deep.

His tale they would not credit until they saw him weep.

XV

Thence quickly came he running where aged Siegmund lay From the king's aching eyelids sweet sleep was far away.

His heart, I ween, foreboded the deed that had been done, And that the childless father no more should see his son.

XVI

"Wake, wake! Sir King! Sir Siegmund! Kriemhild, my lady dear, In haste hath sent me hither; she's plung'd in doleful drear; Woe, that all woe surpa.s.ses, wrings her inmost heart.

Help her to mourn the misery, whereof you own a part."

XVII

Then said the king, half-rising, "What has happ'd of woe To the fair Lady Kriemhild, which here thou com'st to show?"

"Alas!" replied he weeping, "concealment here is vain; The n.o.ble Netherlander, Siegfried, thy son, is slain."

XVIII

Then said the good King Siegmund, "Leave off such idle sport; For my sake spread no further this mischievous report.

Were't true indeed that Siegfried my son were made away, Ne'er could I cease from wailing e'en to my dying day."

XIX

"If me you will not credit, but still will doubt my tale, Hark then yourself to Kriemhild, hear her so wildly wail, Her and her band of maidens, for n.o.ble Siegfried dead."

Then sorely shudder'd Siegmund; deep cause had he for dread.

XX

Straight from his bed up sprang he, and his hundred warriors too; Their long sharp-edged weapons with hasty hand they drew.

Where they heard the wailing, headlong they thither ran; Thither too Siegfried's thousand, each a chosen man,

XXI

Led by the shrieks of horror, ran with like eager speed.

Some of the household fancied, they came for funeral weed.