Then the cry of a queen's heart-anguish through the shadowy palace pealed "Woe for my bitter affliction!--behold, how lieth thy shield With swords unbacked! O Siegfried, thee did a murderer smite! Him--knew I the doer--my vengeance to the uttermost should requite!" {P. 138} Brake forth into wailing her maidens with lamentation loud With her, their belovèd Lady: they mourned all sorrow-bowed For their noble King and their Master, lost unto them for aye. Foully avenged by Hagen was Brunhild's wrath that day! Then spake the sorrow-stricken: "Let some one haste away, And swiftly arouse from slumber my Siegfried's vassal-array: Let him tell withal unto Siegmund the tale of my bitter pain. He must bear his part in the wailing o'er valiant Siegfried slain." Then ran a messenger, hasting where lay the warrior-band Of the vassals of King Siegfried, the Lord of the Netherland. That story of sore tribulation stripped bare their life of its joys. They believed not, till came far-ringing that lamentable voice. Hasted the messenger onward, where the old King lay on his bed; Yet not on the eyes of Siegmund had the dews of slumber been shed, For dimly his heart foreboded the sorrow hard by the door. He was doomed to behold his belovèd, his son, in life no more! "Wake thee, O wake, King Siegmund! Tidings to thee I bring From the Lady Kriemhild my mistress--there hath happed a fearful thing. Above all woes known or imagined she hath suffered grief and wrong. Thou must bear thy part in the wailing, for to thee doth the sorrow belong." Uprose then Siegmund, and questioned: "For what lamenteth she, My daughter, Kriemhild the lovely, as now thou sayest to me?" "Sore cause hath she for lamenting," weeping the messenger said: "Murdered is Siegfried the valiant, her lord and her love lieth dead!" Answered and spake King Siegmund: "Jest me no jests! Have done With a tale of such evil tidings concerning Siegfried my son! Unto no man say thou hereafter that slain he is!--O nay, For then could I never with wailing have done to my latest day!" "Nay then, if thou wilt not believe me, if thou wilt not receive my tale, Thou shalt learn for thine own self--hearken! for that is Kriemhild's wail And the cry of all her maidens for Siegfried in death laid low!" Sharp terror thrilled through Siegmund, and pangs of unfeignèd woe. {P. 139} He sprang from his bed: gathered round him a hundred men of his band. Each man had caught up swiftly a sword keen-whetted in hand. Forth ran they whither the woeful death-keen guided them on, And after them knights a thousand, bold Siegfried's vassals, are gone. Was none that bethought him of vesture, till suddenly these drew nigh Where the long wild wail of the women went shivering up to the sky. In their anguish had none remembered; they knew not what they did; All thought was buried with sorrow in the grave of their hearts deep hid.