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“Since thou wilt not forego it,” did Siegelind declare,

“I’ll help thee on thy journey, my only son and heir!

I will provide apparel, the best e’er warrior wore,—

For thee and thy companions: and ye must take good store.”

Then bowed to the queen-mother Prince Siegfried, the young man,

He said: “On this my journey I’ll take, if so I can,

None save eleven warriors; for these be raiment made.

I long to see how fares it with Kriemhilda,” he said.

So Sieglind’s beauteous ladies sat stitching, night and day,—

There were no idle fingers, and little rest or play,

Until Prince Siegfried’s raiment was ready to his hand.

He’d not forego his journey to the Burgundian land.

His father bade him polish his knightly hamess grand,

Wherewith he meant to ride out of royal Siegmund’s land,

And eke the glitt’ring hauberks they likewise did prepare,

Together with stout helmets, and bucklers broad and fair.

The hour of their departure for Burgundy was nigh,

And men as well as women watched them forebodingly,

Lest they again should never come to their fatherland.

To pack their gear and armour the heroes gave command.

Their chargers were resplendent, their trappings of red gold;

No knight could well be prouder nor had more right to hold

A high head, than Sir Siegfried and his eleven men.

He craved the king’s permission to gallop Rhinewards then.