His sorrow so sorely moved her, e'en death would have lighter been. Now of true heart shall ye bemoan her who thus did sore anguish know, And tho' hatred I won from all women, still I'ld mourn for Jeschuté's woe! So rode they upon the traces of the lad who before them fled, And, dauntless, he little thought him how a foeman behind him sped, 430 But whoever his eyes might light on, as his pathway they drew anear, He gave to him kindly greeting, 'Thus bade me my mother dear!' Thus rode he, our lad so foolish, adown a mountain side, When a woman's voice before him from amid the rocks loud cried; 'Twas a cry of heartfelt sorrow, for her joy was in ruins laid-- 435 Then swift rode the lad towards her,--Now hear what she did, this maid: She tore, the maid Siguné, her plaits of long brown hair From out her head thro' sorrow; and the lad he beheld her there, And he saw Schionatulander, the prince, on her knee lie dead, And the maiden she wailed above him, and her joy had for ever fled. 440 ('If sad be their mien or joyful, my mother she bade me still Greet all men, whoe'er might meet me) God keep thee from greater ill, For in sooth a sorry treasure have I found on thy knee to-day! Who hath wounded this knight?' (For an answer the lad he would press alway) 'Did one with a javelin slay him? For Lady, he sure is dead; 445 Wilt thou tell me naught? Who hath slain him? If he none too far hath fled Methinks I might overtake him, for gladly with him I'ld fight!' Then the lad he laid hold on his quiver wherein lay the javelins bright, And still in his hand tight claspèd, the tokens twain he bore Which he in his thoughtless folly erewhile from Jeschuté tore. 450 Had he known the courtly customs with his father's life in-bound, His shield were better smitten when the duchess alone he found Who thro' him must suffer sorrow--for more than a whole year long, Her husband withheld his favour, tho' in sooth did he do her wrong.