All thought was buried with sorrow in the grave of their hearts deep hid.
So came King Siegmund where Kriemhild crouched by Siegfried’s side:
“Woe for our journey hither to this land accursèd!” he cried.
“Who hath reft from thee thine husband, hath torn this son most dear
From me by the hand of murder, when none but friends were near?”
“Ha, if I knew but the felon,” in fierce grief answered the Queen,
“Never mine heart should forgive him while memory’s edge is keen!
With such vengeance would I requite him, that all his friends and his kin.
Trust me, should weep for my weeping, should find their affliction therein!”
Then in his arms did Siegmund embrace that fallen chief;