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Then six-and-eighty matrons out of the palace went,

And on their heads were wimples. Towards Kriemhilda bent

Each beauteous dame her footsteps, in garments bright array’d;

And no less well apparell’d, came many a comely maid.

In number four-and-fifty, damsels of Burgundy,

The best they were and fairest that ever eye could see;

One saw their flaxen tresses, with bands of riband bright,

What Gunther had desiréd was done with zeal aright.

The richest stuffs then wore they, the best one e’er could find,

Before the stranger-warriors; good clothes of many a kind,—

So that each sev’ral beauty might have a setting fit.

Whoso were discontented must be of little wit.

Of sable and of ermine was many a costume there,

And many an arm, and hand too, were made to seem more fair

With buckles and with bracelets on the silk stuffs they wore.

Should any try to tell you, his task would ne’er be o’er.

With many a fine-wrought girdle— so rich, and long, and gay,

Hanging o’er shining raiment— the women’s hands did play.

Their skirts of Ferrandine were, and stuff of Araby.

Among those noble maidens was gladsomeness and glee.

In stomacher bejewell’d was many a maiden fair

Most winsomely enlacéd. And sad indeed it were

Did not her bright complexion outshine her dress in hue.

No other king had ever so fair a retinue.