Arahad cried triumphantly: "Now, Earl Witichis, wilt thou still defend her?"
"No," answered Witichis, and sheathed his sword, "I defend no murderess! My office is at an end."
With this he went over from the left to the right, amongst the accusers.
"You, ye free Goths, have now to find the verdict, and administer justice," said Hildebrand. "I have only to execute what you pronounce; so I ask you, ye men of judgment, what think ye of this accusation, which Earl Arahad, son of Aramuth the Wölfung, has brought against Gothelindis, the Queen? Speak! is she guilty of murder?"
"Guilty! guilty!" shouted many thousand voices, and not a voice said "no."
"She is guilty," said the old man, rising. "Speak, complainant, what punishment dost thou demand for this crime?"
Arahad lifted his sword towards heaven.
"I appealed against murder, I appealed against blood! She shall die the death!"
And before Hildebrand could put his question to the people, the crowd was filled with angry emotion, every man's sword flew from its sheath and flashed in the sun, and every voice shouted, "She shall die the death!"
The words rolled like a terrible thunder, bearing the people's judgment over the wide plain till the echo died away in the distance.