Whereupon the host said, “What aileth thee, sweet Lady, that the light of thine eyes is dim? Rejoice shouldst thou rather, for my land and rich castles and true liegemen are all subject to thee.”
“I have cause to weep,” said the maiden. “I grieve from my heart for thy sister, that she sitteth there by thy vassal. I must ever weep to see her so shamed.”
But King Gunther answered, “I prithee, silence! Another time I will tell thee why I gave my sister to Siegfried. May she live happily with the knight.”
But she said, “I must grieve for her beauty and her birth. If I knew whither I might flee, I would not suffer thee by me, till that thou hadst told me how Siegfried hath gotten Kriemhild.”
Gunther answered them, “Hearken, and I will tell thee. Know that he hath lands and castles even as I, and is a rich king; wherefore I give him my beautiful sister gladly to wife.” Yet, for all the king could say to her, she was downcast.
The knights rose from the table, and the tourney waxed so fierce that the castle rang with the noise. But the king wearied amidst of his guests. He thought, “It were softer alone with my wife.” And his heart dwelled on the mickle joy her love must bring him, and he looked at her sweetly.
Then they stopped the tourney, that the king might retire with his wife.
At the foot of the stair that led forth from the hall, Kriemhild and Brunhild came face to face. They were not foes yet. Their attendants followed them, and longer they tarried not. The chamberlains brought candles, and the knights of the two kings parted in two companies, and many followed Siegfried.
Then came the heroes where they were to lie, and each thought to win his wife’s favour, whereat their hearts melted.
With Siegfried all went well. He caressed the maiden lovingly, and she was as his life. He had not given her alone for a thousand other women.