With these words Brunhild left the gallery. Chriemhild felt both hurt and angry. It was the first grief that had ever befallen her, and she could not get over it. She went to her rooms, put on her costliest garments and the jewels that had come out of the Nibelung treasure; then, followed by her ladies and serving-men, she walked to the minster. Brunhild was already there with her train. She would have passed the proud woman silently, but the latter exclaimed: “Your husband is my husband’s man, so wait here, and let your queen go first.” “Better for you had you held your peace,” said Chriemhild. “A paramour go before a king’s wife, indeed!” “Are you mad?” asked Brunhild. “What do you mean?” “I will tell you what I mean,” replied Chriemhild, “when I come out of church;” and passing before her enemy, she went in to the house of God. The proud queen stood still, weeping, at the entrance door. Shame and anger struggled in her breast, and she could scarcely wait till the end of the service. At length the door opened, and Chriemhild appeared. “Now,” exclaimed Brunhild, “stop, and explain what you meant by your insulting words, you wife of a bondsman.” “Wife of a bondsman?” repeated Chriemhild, as though she had not heard the other words. “Do you recognise the gold ring on my hand shaped like a serpent?” “It is mine,” said Brunhild. “Now I know who stole it from me.” “Well,” continued Chriemhild, “maybe you also remember the silken girdle I wear round my waist, with its gold buckles and precious stones. My husband gained both the ring and the girdle that night, when he, not Gunther, conquered you.” Chriemhild went her way with the air of a hero on the day of his greatest victory. The proud queen remained standing where her sister-in-law had left her, her head bowed with shame. She sent for her husband, and when he came, told him how she had been insulted. And Gunther promised to ask Siegfried if he had any knowledge of what had taken place. He received his brother-in-law in the royal hall, and in the presence of many of his bravest warriors. He told him what had chanced, and immediately the Nibelung hero declared, in all good truth, that he had never spoken of dishonour and of the queen in the same breath; adding that too much weight should not be laid on the words that women spoke in anger. He then offered to clear himself by a solemn oath. But Gunther interrupted him, saying he knew him of old, and that his word was as good as his bond. “Hearken, then, ye men of Burgundy,” said the hero; “you see that I am pronounced innocent of causing the humiliations your queen has endured, and indeed I have always regarded her as a modest woman, and a good wife. And now, dear comrade Gunther, chide your wife as I shall chide mine for what they have this day done, that we may never again be brought to dispeace by their idle chatter.” He then turned and left the hall; but many a Burgundian felt that their queen had suffered a cruel wrong.