None might tell to the end the wailing that arose there from knights and women. It was so loud that they in the town heard it, and the noble burghers hasted thither, and mourned with the guests, for they were right sorrowful. They knew no fault in Siegfried for which he had lost his life, and the good burgesses’ wives wept with the women of the court. They bade the smiths go and make a coffin of silver and of gold, mickle and stark, and brace it strongly with good steel. Right heavy of their cheer were all the folk. The night was ended. They told them it was day, and the queen gave order to bear the dead knight, her dear husband, to the minster; and all the friends he had there followed weeping. When they came to the minster, how many a bell rang out! On all sides they sang requiems. Thither came King Gunther with his men, and also grim Hagen, that had better stayed away. Gunther said, “Dear sister, woe is me for this grief of thine, and that this great misadventure hath befallen us. We must ever mourn Siegfried’s death.” “Ye do wrongly,” said the wailing queen. “If it grieved thee, it had never happed. I was clean forgotten by thee when thou didst part me from my dear husband. Would to God thou hadst done it to me instead!” But they held to their lie, and Kriemhild went on. “Let him that is guiltless prove it. Let him go up to the bier before all the folk, and soon we shall know the truth.” It is a great marvel, and ofttimes seen even now, how that, when the murderer standeth by the dead, the wounds bleed again. And so it fell then, and Hagen’s guilt was plain to all. The wounds burst open and bled as they had done afore; and they that had wept already wept now much more. King Gunther said, “Hear the truth. He was slain by robbers. Hagen did it not.” “These robbers,” she answered, “I know well. God grant that his kinsmen’s hands may avenge it. By you, Gunther and Hagen, was it done.” Siegfried’s knights had fain fallen on them, but Kriemhild said, “Help me to bear my woe.” Gernot her brother, and Giselher the youth, both came and found Siegfried dead; they mourned for him truly, and their eyes were blind with tears. They wept for Kriemhild’s husband from their hearts. It was time to sing mass, and men and women flocked from all quarters. Even they that missed him little mourned with the rest. Gernot and Giselher said, “Comfort thee, sister, for the dead, for so it must needs be now. We will make it good to thee while we live.” But comfort her could none. His coffin was ready by the middle of the day, and they lifted the dead man from the bier whereon he lay, but the queen would not let them bury him yet. All his folk must first toil sore. They wound him in a rich cloth. Not one, I ween, was there that wept not. Uta, the noble queen and all her women wailed bitterly for Siegfried.