631.
The serving-folk had vanish’d, women as well as men:
The door of the bride-chamber was quickly closéd then.
He thought he should be clasping her sweet form presently,—
The time was still far distant when she his wife would be.
632.
In shift of snow-white linen she came unto the bed.
Then thought the noble warrior: “Now have I compasséd
All that I ever yearn’d for, through all my livelong days!”
Her beauty had bewitch’d him,— ’twere no unlikely case.
633.
The noble king did firstly quench with his hand the light.
To where the dame was lying then ventured that bold knight.
He stretch’d himself beside her: his joy could not be told
As in his arms the hero the lovely one did fold.
634.
All loving customs was he right ready to fulfil,
If but the noble lady had let him have his will.
But she so full of wrath was that sorry was his state:
He thought to meet with kindness, and found unfriendly hate.
635.
She spake: “O knight most noble, you best had let me be,
For that which might content you you ne’er will get from me!
I will remain a maiden— you may be sure of that—
Until I learn the story.” That made her Gunther hate.
636.
He tried to wring love from her, and, striving, tore her dress.
Whereat she seized a girdle,— this masterful princess;
It was a cord well-twisted, which round the hips she wore.
Then to the king full measure she gave of anguish sore.
