“Alas, ’tis true!” she answered. “Well do I know her whom thou namest. She came as Hartmut’s captive, and much hath the poor maid been forced to bear.”
At this the heroes cried with one voice: “Tell us quickly, damsel, where we may find her!”
“If indeed it be she ye seek, then never shall ye find her more on earth,” said Gudrun. “Of grief and suffering is she dead and lieth deep beneath the flowery sod.”
Herwig covered his eyes with his hand, while Ortwin turned away and leaned upon his sword, shaking his head sorrowfully.
Then Gudrun cried: “Why are ye so moved by this news, sir knights? Your breasts heave as they would burst your mail asunder! ’Twould almost seem that ye were kin to that poor maid.”
Herwig could no longer contain his grief, but wrung his hands and cried aloud: “Alas, noble damsels, she was more than life to me! My bride, betrothed to me by solemn vows when Hartmut treacherously did steal her from her home!”
“Thy words are false!” cried Gudrun. “Thou art not Herwig! He would long since have sought to deliver her; or were she no more, then at the least her unhappy women, one of whom am I!”
“Nay, by my faith, ’tis truth I speak!” said Herwig. “If thou indeed art one of Gudrun’s maidens, then wilt thou know this ring upon my finger, for ’twas a gift from her, who once did wear it.”
Then Gudrun’s eyes shone like stars and her cheeks flushed. “Well do I know both gold and jewel,” she said, “for it was I that wore the ring!” And raising her own hand, she added: “Perchance thou knowst this also; ’twas Herwig placed it on my finger!”
Now at last brother and sister, bridegroom and bride, knew one another and wept together in mingled joy and sorrow. Still supposing her to be Hartmut’s wife, Ortwin at length asked Gudrun how she, a Queen, chanced to be in such wretched plight and forced to perform such menial tasks.