The messenger came eke quickly / where the king did lie,
Yet closed was not in sleeping / the monarch Siegmund's eye:
I ween his heart did tell him / the thing that there had been,
And that his dear son living / might nevermore by him be seen.
"Awake, awake, Lord Siegmund. / Hither hath sent for thee
Kriemhild my mistress. / A wrong now beareth she,
A grief that 'fore all others / unto her heart doth go:
To mourn it shalt thou help her, / for sorely hast thou need thereto."
Up raised himself then Siegmund. / He spake: "What may it be
Of wrong that grieveth Kriemhild, / as thou hast told to me?"
The messenger spake weeping: / "Now may I naught withhold:
Know thou that of Netherland / Siegfried brave lies slain and cold."
Thereto gave answer Siegmund: / "Let now such mocking be
And tale of such ill tidings / —an thou regardest me—
As that thou say'st to any / now he lieth slain:
An were it so, I never / unto my end might cease to plain."
"Wilt thou now believe not / the tidings that I bear,
So may'st thyself the Lady / Kriemhild weeping hear,
And all of her attendants, / that Siegfried lieth dead."
With terror filled was Siegmund: / whereof in very sooth was need.