Now Gunther the King and Hagen, those knights of high-born blood, Have contrived with treacherous purpose the hunt through the glades of the wood. O yea, with their spears keen-whetted will they pierce the forest-bear And the wild boar and the bison--what sport for the brave more fair? {P. 125} Forth rode with heart exultant Siegfried amidst of the rest. All manner of meats followed after for the feasting of host and guest. In the wood's dark heart cool-welling is a spring--there left he his life By the counselling of Brunhild, King Gunther's ruthless wife. But the bold knight, ere he departed, farewell to his wife would say. Already on sumpters laden was his goodly hunting array, And the gear of his woodland-fellows, for over the Rhine would they now. But behold, she wept--ah, never had she more cause, I trow! Soft on the lips he kissed her, his well-belovèd one: "God grant me to see thee, belovèd, safe and sound anon, And that thy sweet eyes may behold me!--with the friends thou boldest dear Fleet thou the time all-careless: I may not tarry here." Then called she to mind the story--yet durst not tell him the tale-- Told erewhile unto Hagen: bitterly 'gan she bewail, That noble Daughter of Princes, that ever she saw the light; And brake into measureless weeping the bride of Siegfried the knight. And she spake to her lord: "I beseech thee, O let this hunting be! Last night was my dream a horror: two wild boars tracking thee Held thee in chase o'er a moorland--then flowers grew suddenly red! Cause have I for bitter weeping; for fear is mine heart as lead. I fear--oh, I needs must shudder at the thought of a treacherous blow, If haply offence hath been given to an unforgetting foe, Unto some who might visit their hatred and malice on thee and me. Stay here, dear lord: I beseech thee in love and in loyalty!" But he said: "My wife, my belovèd, I shall be but a few days gone. Is there any that here bears hatred to me?--I know not one. Lo, one and all thy kinsmen unto me are gracious-willed, And I, I have earned no guerdon save the love wherewith they be filled." "Ah no, but my lord, but my Siegfried, thy very death do I dread! For I dreamed yet again for mine anguish: crashing down on thine head Suddenly fell two mountains--and I saw thee never again! If now from me thou departest, it shall be for mine uttermost pain." {P. 126} Then cast he his arms about her, the utter-faithful and dear, And essayed with loving kisses that fairest of women to cheer. This was their last leave-taking: lo, he is gone from her bower. Alas and alas, never living she beheld him from that hour!