"Ay! well know I those robbers," his widow'd sister said; "By the hands of his true comrades may God revenge the dead! False Gunther, and false Hagan! 'twas you, your friend that slew." Thereat the knights of Siegfried gripp'd to their swords anew. XLVI This more distracted Kriemhild; when in her anxious pain Two friends she saw approaching to seek and mourn the slain, Gernot her good brother, and Giselher the young. Their eyes were blind with weeping; true grief their bosoms wrung. XLVII They wept for Kriemhild's husband, and inly sorrowed too. Mass now all would be singing; the doors they open threw, And straight into the minster both men and women press'd. Those, who could well spare Siegfried, mourn'd for him with the rest. XLVIII Gernot then and Giselher thus spake, "My sister dear! For this sad death take comfort, all must have sorrow here. We'll do our best to help thee as long as we have life." Yet could not they nor others console the widow'd wife. XLIX His coffin now was ready; it was about midday; From the bier he was lifted whereon till now he lay. Yet would not his pale lady have him laid at once in ground. His friends and faithful followers to further toil were bound. L In richest stuff, deep sighing, they wrapp'd the clay-cold dead. Not one, I ween, was present, but bitter tears he shed. Then wail'd the high-born Uta; deep teen in heart she bore; And all her dames lamented that Siegfried was no more. LI Soon as 'twas heard, the murder'd had now been laid in chest, And that the mass was singing, to church the people press'd. For his soul what offerings were brought in all men's view! E'en 'midst foes so deadly, friends had he firm and true. LII Then the wretched Kriemhild her chamberlains bespake, "Now must you toil and trouble suffer for my sake. To those who honor'd Siegfried, and dear his widow hold, For the soul of the departed deal out his treasur'd gold." LIII No child, howe'er so little, just knowing wrong from right, But brought an offering thither; ere buried was the knight, At least a hundred masses they sang the whole day long; Thither all friends of Siegfried's flock'd in, a numerous throng. LIV When now the chants were over, the crowd would wend away. Then spake the sobbing Kriemhild, "Ah! leave me not, I pray, This night alone to sorrow, and watch th' unheeding dead. With him, my own beloved, all my joys lie withered. LV "Three nights, three days, I'll keep him, and gaze upon him still, Till of the dearly dear one I thus have had my fill. What if God be willing that me, too, death should seize? Then well at once were ended poor Kriemhild's miseries." LVI