Down fell the slayer
Smitten asunder;
The heavy head
And the hands fell one way,
But the feet and such like
Aback where they stood.
Gudrun was sleeping
Soft in the bed,
Empty of sorrow
By the side of Sigurd:
When she awoke
With all pleasure gone,
Swimming in blood
Of Frey's beloved.
So sore her hands
She smote together,
That the great-hearted
Gat raised in bed;
-- "O Gudrun, weep not
So woefully,
Sweet lovely bride,
For thy brethren live for thee!
"A young child have I
For heritor;
Too young to win forth
From the house of his foes. --
Black deeds and ill
Have they been a-doing,
Evil rede
Have they wrought at last.
"Late, late, rideth with them
Unto the Thing,
Such sister's son,
Though seven thou bear, --
-- But well I wot
Which way all goeth;
Alone wrought Brynhild
This bale against us.
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