“Good sooth, ’tis a far-away kinship,” he cried with bitter jeer,
“That hath drawn this Etzel and Siegfried each unto other so near!
He wantoned with yonder Kriemhild or ever she looked on thee!
What ho, King Etzel the craven, what grudge hast thou against me?”
In the ears of the great Queen tingled the scoffer’s every word:
Black grew the heart of Kriemhild at the thought that his taunt was heard
Of all those vassals of Etzel, when he dared to make her a jest;
And she set her once more to enkindle her champions against that guest.
She cried: “Whosoever will smite me yon Hagen of Troneg dead,
And bring for a trophy hither and cast at my feet his head,