1036.
No tongue could ever tell you the marvel of it, how
From knights as well as ladies arose the cries of woe,
So that throughout the city the noise thereof did sound.
The noble burghers heard it, and quickly throng’d around.
1037.
They mournéd with the strangers, for they themselves were sad.
If fault had been with Siegfried, none told them that it had,
Nor why the noble warrior had forfeited his life.
Then wept, too, with the women, each worthy burgher’s wife.
1038.
The smiths were bidden quickly a coffin to devise
Of gold y-wrought and silver, strong and of mickle size;
They bade them firmly bind it, with temper’d steel and good.
Then truly all the people were sorrowful of mood.
1039.
The night was spent, and daylight ’twas said would soon appear.
The noble lady bade them unto the minster bear
Siegfried their noble master, her husband well-beloved.
One saw his friends all weeping, as they the body moved.
1040.
They brought him to the minster, and toll’d was many a bell:
On every side the chanting of priests was heard to swell.
And thither came King Gunther, and all his folk with him,
To take part in the mourning; and likewise Hagen grim.
1041.
He said: “My dearest sister, alas, indeed, for thee!
That from thy sorrow’s burden can none of us be free:
We must bewail for ever the loss of Siegfried’s life.”
“That do ye without reason,” answer’d the mourning wife.
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