When he his draught had taken, he rose and stepp'd aside.
Full fain alike would Siegfried his thirst have satisfied.
Dear paid he for his courtesy; his bow, his matchless blade, His weapons all, Sir Hagan far from their lord convey'd, Then back sprung to the linden to seize his ashen spear, And to find out the token survey'd his vesture near;Then, as to drink Sir Siegfried down kneeling there he found, He pierc'd him through the croslet, that sudden from the wound Forth the life-blood spouted e'en o'er his murderer's weed.
Never more will warrior dare so foul a deed.
Between his shoulders sticking he left the deadly spear.
Never before Sir Hagan so fled for ghastly fear, As from the matchless champion whom he had butcher'd there.
Soon as was Sir Siegfried of the mortal wound aware, Up he from the runnel started, as he were wood Out from betwixt his shoulders his own hugh boar-spear stood.
He thought to find his quiver or his broadsword true.
The traitor for his treason had then receiv'd his due.
But, ah! the deadly-wounded nor sword nor quiver found;His shield alone beside him lay there upon the ground.
This from the bank he lifted and straight at Hagan ran;Him could not then by fleetness escape king Gunther's man.
E'en to the death though wounded, he hurl'd it with such power, That the whirling buckler scatter'd wide a shower Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke.
Full gladly had the warrior then vengeance with that stroke.
E'en as it was, his manhood fierce Hagan level'd low.
Loud, all around, the meadow rang with the wondrous blow.
Had he in hand good Balmung, the murderer he had slain.
His wound was sore upon him; he writh'd in mortal pain;His lively colour faded; a cloud came o'er his sight:
He could stand no longer; melted all his might;In his paling visage the mark of death he bore.
Soon many a lovely lady sorrow'd for him sore.
So the lord of Kriemhild araong the flowerets fell.
From the wound fresh gushing his heart's blood fast did well.
Then thus amidst his tortures, e'en with his failing breath, The false friends he upbraided who had contriv'd his death.
Thus spake the deadly-wounded, "Ay! cowards false as hell!
To you I still was faithful; I serv'd you long and well;But what boots all?--for guerdon treason and death I've won.
By your friends, vile traitors! foully have you done.
Whoever shall hereafter from your loins be born, Shall take from such vile fathers a heritage of scorn.
On me you have wreak'd malice where gratitude was due.
With shame shall you be banish'd by all good knights and true."Thither ran all the warriors where in his blood he lay.
To many of that party sure it was a joyless day.
Whoever were true and faithful, they sorrow'd for his fall.
So much the peerless champion had merited of all.
With them the false king Gunther bewept his timeless end.
Then spake the deadly-wounded; "little it boots your friend Yourself to plot his murder, and then the deed deplore.
Such is a shameful sorrow; better at once it were o'er."Then spake the low'ring Hagan, "I know not why you moan.
Our cares all and suspicions are now for ever flown.
Who now are left, against us who'll dare to make defence?
Well's me, for all this weeping, that I have rid him hence.""Small cause hast thou," said Siegfried, "to glory in my fate.
Had I ween'd thy friendship cloak'd such murderous hate, From such as thou full lightly could I have kept my life.
Now grieve I but for Kriemhild, my dear, my widow'd wife.
Then further spake the dying, and speaking sigh'd full deep, "Oh king! if thou a promise with any one wilt keep, Let me in this last moment thy grace and favour find For my dear love and lady, the wife I leave behind.
Remember, she's thy sister, yield her a sister's right, Guard her with faith and honour, as thou'rt a king and knight.
My father and my followers for me they long must wait.
Comrade ne'er found from comrade so sorrowful a fate."In his mortal anguish he writh'd him to and fro, And then said, deadly groaning, "this foul and murderous blow Deep will ye rue hereafter; this for sure truth retain, That in slaying Siegfried you yourselves have slain."With blood were all bedabbled the flowerets of the field.
Some time with death he struggled, as though he scorn'd to yield E'en to the foe, whose weapon strikes down the loftiest head.
At last prone in the meadow lay mighty Siegfried dead.
They carry the body of Siegfried back to Worms, and lay it at Kriemhild's door.Here she finding it next morning.She has it carried to the church and stands by it while the heroes come to view it, expecting to discover the murderer.
KRIEMHILD'S TEST.
Stanza 1071-1078.
And now the night was over; forth peep'd the morning fair;Straight had the noble lady thence to the minster bear The matchless champion Siegfried, her husband lov'd so dear.
All her friends close follow'd with many a sigh and tear.
When they the minster enter'd, how many a bell was rung!
How many a priest on all sides the mournful requiem sung!
Then thither with his meiny came Dancrat's haughty son, And thither too grim Hagan; it had been better left undone.
Then spoke the king, "dear sister, woe worth this loss of thine!
Alas that such misfortune has happ'd to me and mine!
For sure the death of Siegfried we ever both must rue.""Nay", said the mournful lady, "so without cause you do, For if you really rued it, never had it been.
I know, you have your sister forgotten quite and clean, So I and my beloved were parted as you see.
Good God! would he had granted the stroke had fall'n on me!"Firmly they made denial; Kriemhild at once replied, "Whoe'er in this is guiltless, let him this proof abide.
In sight of all the people let him approach the bier, And so to each beholder shall the plain truth appear."It is a mighty marvel, which oft e'en now we spy, That when the blood-stain'd murderer comes to the murder'd nigh, The wounds break out a-bleeding; then too the same befell, And thus could each beholder the guilt of Hagan tell.
