H. Hendrich
By Permission of the “Illustrirte Zeitung” (J. J. Weber. Leipzig)
Although wounded unto death, Sigurd raised himself in bed, and seizing his renowned sword which hung beside him, he flung it with all his remaining strength at the flying murderer, cutting him in two as he reached the door. Then, with a last whispered farewell to the terrified Gudrun, Sigurd sank back and breathed his last.
”‘Mourn not, O Gudrun, this stroke is the last of ill;
Fear leaveth the House of the Niblungs on this breaking of the morn;
Mayst thou live, O woman beloved, unforsaken, unforlorn!’
‘It is Brynhild’s deed,’ he murmured, ‘and the woman that loves me well;
Nought now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell.
I have done many deeds in my life-days; and all these, and my love, they lie
In the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by.