None was who aught might comfort / the wife of Siegfried there.
They drew the knight's attire / from off his body fair,
From wounds the blood, too, washed they / and laid him on the bier.
Then from all his people / a mighty wailing might ye hear.
Then outspake his warriors / of Nibelungenland:
"Until he be avengéd / rest shall not our hand.
He is within this castle / who the deed hath done."
Then rushed to find their weapons / Siegfried's warriors every one.
The knights of chosen valor / with shields did thither throng,
Eleven hundred warriors, / that did to train belong
Of Siegmund the monarch. / That his son lay dead,
Would he wreak dire vengeance, / whereof in very sooth was need.
Yet knew they not whom should they / beset in battle then,
If it were not Gunther / and with him his men
With whom their lord Siegfried / unto the hunting rode.
Yet filled with fear was Kriemhild / when she beheld how armed they stood.
How great soe'er her sorrow / and stern the grief she bore,
Yet for the Nibelungen / feared she death full sore
From her brother's warriors, / and bade them hold their wrath.
She gave them kindly warning / as friend to friend beloved doth.