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“Then will I end the matter!” so spake the noble wife,

And forthwith bade her liegemen to take her brother’s life.

They struck his head from off him, which by the hair she bore

Before the Tronian hero; then was his grief full sore.

For when, with sorrow stricken, he saw his master’s head,

Thereon unto Kriemhilda the warrior spake and said:

“E’en as thou saidst, the matter thou hast to ending brought,

And likewise all hath happen’d as I beforehand thought.

“And now the noble sovran of Burgundy is not,

Nor Giselher the stripling, and eke the Lord Gernot,

None knoweth of the treasure save God and me alone:

And unto thee, she-devil, it never shall be known!”

Said she: “An evil guerdon dost thou to me award;

Yet in mine own possession I will have Siegfried’s sword,

Which my belovéd husband, when last I saw him, bare

That day when, by your doing, began my heartfelt care.”

She drew it from the scabbard— he could not hinder her—

And of his life bethought her to rid that warrior.

With both her hands she swung it, and smote his head right off:

King Etzel saw her do it, his grief was sore enough.

The prince cried: “Woe betide me, lo! now, how here is slain,

And by a woman’s doing, the very noblest thane

That ever came to battle, or ever buckler bore!

Albeit I was his foeman I could not sorrow more!”