Then a chamberlain came and found Siegfried. He saw him red with blood, and his garment all wet, but he knew not yet that he was his king. He carried the light into the room in his hand, and from him Kriemhild heard evil tidings. When she would have gone with her women to the minster, the chamberlain said, “Lady, stop! A murdered knight lieth on the threshold.” “Woe is me!” cried Kriemhild. “What meanest thou by such news?” Or she knew for certain that it was her husband, she began to think on Hagen’s question, how he might guard him. From that moment her dole began; for, with his death, she took leave of all joy. She sank on the floor speechless; they saw the miserable woman lying there. Kriemhild’s woe was great beyond measure, and after her swoon she cried out, that all the chamber rang. Then said her attendants, “What if it be a stranger?” But the blood burst from her mouth by reason of her heart’s anguish, and she said, “Nay, it is Siegfried, my dear husband. Brunhild hath counselled it, and Hagen hath done it.” The lady bade them show her where the hero lay. She lifted his beautiful head with her white hands. Albeit he was red with blood, she knew him straightway. Pitifully the hero of the Netherland lay there. The gentle, good queen wailed in anguish, “Woe is me for this wrong! Thy shield is unpierced by swords. Thou liest murdered. If I knew who had done this deed, I would not rest till he was dead.” All her attendants wailed and cried with their dear mistress, for they were woe for their noble master that they had lost. Foully had Hagen avenged Brunhild’s anger. The sorrowful one said, “Go and wake Siegfried’s men quickly; and tell Siegmund also my dole, that he may help me to mourn for brave Siegfried.” Then a messenger ran in haste where Siegfried’s heroes of the Nibelung land lay, and took from them their joy with heavy tidings. They believed it not, till they heard the wailing. The messenger also came quickly where the king was. Siegmund slept not. I ween his heart told him what had happened, and that he would see his dear son never more. “Arouse thee, Sir Siegmund! Kriemhild, my lady, hath sent me. For a wrong hath been done her, that lieth heavier on her heart than any other hath done. Thou shalt help her to mourn, for it is thy sorrow also.” Up rose Sir Siegmund then, and said, “What is fair Kriemhild’s grief, whereof thou tellest me?” The messenger answered, weeping, “She mourneth with cause. Bold Siegfried of the Netherland is slain.” But Siegmund said, “Jest not with these evil tidings of my son, and say to none that he is slain; for never to my life’s end could I mourn him enow.” “If thou believest not what I tell thee, hearken thyself to Kriemhild, how she maketh dole for Siegfried’s death with all her maidens.”