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XX.]

The highborn dame Kriemhilda her heart with trouble sore,

For Rüdeger was waiting,— the goodly warrior.

He found her in the raiment she wore for ev’ry day:

But none the less her women had donn’d their best array.

She rose and went to meet him, and by the door she stood,

And unto Etzel’s liegeman she gave a welcome good.

With but eleven comrades he came therein to her.

Worship had he, for never came nobler messenger.

One bade them all be seated,— the leader and his men.

The while before her standing they saw her margraves twain,

Counts Eckewart and Gere,— both noble knights and good.

For sake of her, their mistress, none seem’d of joyful mood.

They saw beside her sitting vfull many a lady fair.

For nothing save her sorrow had Kriemhild any care.

The raiment on her bosom was wet with tear-drops hot,

Nor fail’d the noble margrave Kriembhilda’s grief to note.

Then spake the lordly envoy: “Daughter of kingly race,

To me and to my comrades who here with me have place,

I pray you leave to grant us that we before you stand

And tell to you the errand that brings us to this land.”

“Now be it to you granted,” the queen in answer said,

“To speak as ye are minded; for I am purposed

Right willingly to listen: thou art a herald good.”

Yet to the others’ hearing unwilling was her mood.