Even as Siegfried the noble drank of the life-giving flood,
Fair through the crosslet he stabbed him. Sprang from the wound the blood,
His heart’s blood; and Hagen’s tunic was besprent with murder’s stain.
—Never may hand of warrior such villainy do again!
There in his heart deep-planted the murderer left the spear.
How swiftly thence did Hagen flee in his deadly fear!
Never on earth so fleetly from the face of man fled he
As when Siegfried’s limbs at the death-stab leapt convulsively.
Forthright did the maddened hero up from the well-brink spring:
Stood far out ’twixt his shoulders the long shaft quivering: