"Make me glad with the Gold," said Atli, "live on in honour and worth!"

With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: "O fool, hast thou heard it told
Who won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold?
It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the best:
He rode from the North and the mountains and became my summer-guest.
My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire
And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire;
The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong,
The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong:
Ah, oft in the world henceforward shall the tale be told of the deed,
And I, e'en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs' Need:
For I sat night-long in my armour, and when light was wide o'er the land
I slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand.
And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblungs' wreck,
And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar's neck;
And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest,
Let me see the heart of Hogni cut quick from his living breast,
And laid, on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold,
And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.
O goodly story of Gunnar, and the King of the broken troth
In the heavy Need of the Niblungs, and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth!"

Grim then waxed Atli bemocked, yet he pondered a little while,
For yet with his bitter anger strove the hope of his greedy guile,
And as one who falleth a-dreaming he hearkened Gunnar's word,
While his eyes beheld that Treasure, and the rings of the Ancient Hoard.

But he spake low-voiced to his sword-carles, and they heard and understood,
And departed swift from the feast-hall to do the work he would.
To the chamber of death they gat them, to the pit they went adown,
And saw the wise men sitting round the war-king of renown:
Then they spake: "We are Atli's bondmen, and Atli's doom we bring:
We shall carve the heart from thy body, and thou living yet, O King."

Then Hogni laughed, for they feared him; and he said: "Speed ye the work!
For fain would I look on the storehouse where such marvels used to lurk,
And the forge of fond desires, and the nurse of life that fails.
Take heed now! deeds are doing for the fashioners of tales."

But they feared as they looked on the Niblung, and the wise men hearkened and spake,
And bade them abide for a season, yea even for Atli's sake,
For the night-slaying is as the murder; and they looked on each other and feared,
For Atli's bitter whisper their very hearts had heard:
Then they said: "The King makes merry, as a well the white wine springs,
And the red wine runs as a river; and what are the hearts of kings,
That men may know them naked from the hearts of bond and thrall?
Nor go we empty-handed to King Atli in his hall."

So the sword-carles spake to each other, and they looked and a man they saw,
Who should hew the wood if he lived, and for thralls the water should draw,
A thrall-born servant of servants, begetter of thralls on the earth:
And they said: "If this one were away, scarce greater were waxen the dearth
That this morning hath wrought on the Eastland; for the years shall eke out his woe,
And no day his toil shall lessen, and worse and worse shall he grow."

They drew the steel new-whetted, on the thrall they laid the hand;
For they said: "All hearts be fashioned as the heart of the King of the land."
But the thrall was bewildered with anguish, and wept and bewailed him sore
For the loss of his life of labour, and the grief that long he bore.

But wroth was the son of Giuki and he spake: "It is idle and vain,
And two men for one shall perish, and the knife shall be whetted again.
It is better to die than be sorry, and to hear the trembling cry,
And to see the shame of the poor: O fools, must the lowly die
Because kings strove with swords? I bid you to hasten the end,
For my soul is sick with confusion, and fain on the way would I wend."

But the life of the thrall is over, and his fearful heart they set
On a fair wide golden platter, and bear it ruddy wet
To the throne of the triumphing East-King; he looketh, and feareth withal
Lest the house should fail about him and the golden roof should fall:
But Gunnar laughed beside him, and spake o'er the laden gold: