XIII
Then spake the sorrow-laden, "Go hence with your best speed,
Quick call up Siegfried's liegemen, his warriors good at need;
To Siegmund, too, let tidings of my deep loss be borne,
That he may help his daughter his murder'd son to mourn."
XIV
A messenger ran quickly, and came where slept the band
Of Siegfried's chosen champions from the Nibelunger's land.
Their merry cheer his tidings chang'd to sorrow deep.
His tale they would not credit until they saw him weep.
XV
Thence quickly came he running where aged Siegmund lay
From the king's aching eyelids sweet sleep was far away.
His heart, I ween, foreboded the deed that had been done,
And that the childless father no more should see his son.
XVI
"Wake, wake! Sir King! Sir Siegmund! Kriemhild, my lady dear,
In haste hath sent me hither; she's plung'd in doleful drear;
Woe, that all woe surpasses, wrings her inmost heart.
Help her to mourn the misery, whereof you own a part."
XVII
Then said the king, half-rising, "What has happ'd of woe
To the fair Lady Kriemhild, which here thou com'st to show?"
"Alas!" replied he weeping, "concealment here is vain;
The noble Netherlander, Siegfried, thy son, is slain."