Such was her praise mid the Hunfolk still till the thirteenth year.
Now when she marked how no man opposed him to her will—
Even so unto wives of princes knights wont to bear them still—
And that twelve kings stood in her presence aye as the years passed on,
On the pain and the wrong she brooded that was dealt to her years agone.
She thought withal on the honour that of yore in the Niblung land
Of right unto her was rendered, whereof had Hagen’s hand
Utterly despoiled her when Siegfried by him had been slain:
And she pondered how she might compass that his wrong should become his bane:—
“Into this land could I but bring him, then might my vengeance betide!”