So came King Siegmund where Kriemhild crouched by Siegfried's side: "Woe for our journey hither to this land accursèd!" he cried. "Who hath reft from thee thine husband, hath torn this son most dear From me by the hand of murder, when none but friends were near?" "Ha, if I knew but the felon," in fierce grief answered the Queen, "Never mine heart should forgive him while memory's edge is keen! With such vengeance would I requite him, that all his friends and his kin. Trust me, should weep for my weeping, should find their affliction therein!" Then in his arms did Siegmund embrace that fallen chief; Then rose from all his lovers so mighty a cry of grief That with that wild lamentation did hall and palace ring, And wailed up the streets of the city the shrieks wide-echoing. Who then to the wife of Siegfried to speak of comfort dared? They drew off the blood-stained raiment, and his goodly limbs they bared. They washed his wounds dark-clotted, they laid him on the bier. High swelled the tide of anguish in all that held him dear. Then cried aloud his warriors that came from the Netherland: "Ready and eager for vengeance waiteth ever our hand. Here in this castle he lurketh of whom the deed was done!" Then hasted the knights of Siegfried to gird their armour on. With their shields those chosen heroes full-armed returned again, Brave knights eleven hundred; they were all of the warrior-train Now of the old King Siegmund: full fain for the death of his son Would the father have taken vengeance; yea, honour spurred him on. {P. 140} But as yet these wronged ones knew not upon whom should their vengeance light, Unless peradventure with Gunther and his vassals they closed in fight; For these on that woeful hunting with Siegfried rode that day. Then all-armed Kriemhild beheld them, and filled was her soul with dismay. How wild was her grief soever, how tortured soever her breast, Yet for the lives of the Niblungs she trembled terror-distressed, Lest by the men of her brethren they be slain; and she earnestly spake, And in love she warned them, as ever doth friend for a dear friend's sake: And she cried from the depths of her sorrow: "My lord, O Siegmund King, What would ye essay? Ye know not how all too hard is the thing. For the valiant men of Gunther be a passing great array: Ye shall perish all of a surety, if ye fall on so many as they!"