“That may easily be proved,” said Siegfried. “Let us run to the brook for a wager, and see who wins there first. If I lose I will lay me before you in the grass. Nay, I will more, for I will carry with me spear, shield, and hunting gear.”
Then did he gird on his weapons, even to his quiver, while the others stripped, and off they set. But Siegfried easily passed them and arrived at the lime-tree where was the well. But he would not drink first for courtesy, even although he was sore athirst.
Gunther came up, bent down to the water, and drank of the pure, cool well. Siegfried then bent him to drink also. But the false Hagen, carrying his bow and sword out of reach, sprang back and gripped the hero’s mighty spear. Then looked he for the secret mark on his vesture that Kriemhild had worked.
As Siegfried drank from the stream Hagen poised the great spear and plunged it between the hero’s shoulders. Deeply did the blade pierce through the spot where lay the secret mark, so that the blood spurted out on the traitor’s garments. Hagen left the spear deep in Siegfried’s heart and flew in grim haste from the place.
Though wounded to the death, Siegfried rose from the stream like a maddened lion and cast about him for a weapon. But nothing came to his hand but his shield. This he picked up from the water’s edge and ran at Hagen, who might not escape him, for, sore wounded as he was, so mightily did he smite that the shield well-nigh burst and the jewels which adorned it flew in flinders. The blow rang across the meadow as Hagen fell beneath the stroke.
It was Siegfried’s last blow. His countenance was already that of a dead man. He could not stand upright. Down he crashed among the flowers; fast flowed his blood; in his agony he began to upbraid those who had contrived his death.
“Cowards and caitiffs,” he cried, “is this the price you pay me for my fealty to you? Ill have you done by your friends, for sons of yours as yet unborn will feel the weight of this deed. You have vented your spite on my body; but for this dastard crime all good knights shall shun you.”
Now all surrounded him, and those that were true among them mourned for him. Gunther also wept. But the dying man, turning to him, said: “Does he weep for the evil from whom the evil cometh? Better for him that it had remained undone, for mighty is his blame.”
Then said false Hagen: “What rue ye? Surely our care is past. Who will now withstand us? Right glad am I that Siegfried is no more.”
Loud was Siegfried’s dole for Kriemhild. “Never was so foul a murder done as thou hast done on me, O king,” he said to Gunther. “I saved thy life and honour. But if thou canst show truth to any on earth, show it to my dear wife, I beg of thee, for never had woman such woe for one she loved.”