He saw him red and bloody, / all wet his clothing too.
That it was his master, / in sooth no whit he knew.
On unto the chamber / the light in hand he bore,
Whereby the Lady Kriemhild / did learn what brought her grief full sore.
When she with train of ladies / would to the minster go,
Then spake the chamberlain: / "Pause, I pray thee now:
Here before thy dwelling / a noble knight lies slain."
Thereat gan Lady Kriemhild / in grief unmeasured sore to plain.
Ere yet that 'twas her husband / she did rightly find,
Had she Hagen's question / begun to call to mind,
How might he protect him: / then first did break her heart,
For all her joy in living / did with his death from her depart.
Unto the earth then sank she / ere she a word did say,
And reft of all her pleasure / there the fair lady lay.
Soon had Kriemhild's sorrow / all measure passed beyond:
She shrieked, when past the swooning, / that did the chamber all resound.
Then spake her attendants: / "What if't a stranger were?"
From out her mouth the heart-blood / did spring from anguish sore.
Then spake she: "It is Siegfried / my husband, other none:
This thing hath counselled Brunhild, / and Hagen's hand the deed hath done."