e fight with thee?" said Gernot. "Though every knight
lay dead thereby, small were our glory and little thine adventure."

Whereto Siegfried, King Siegmund's son, answered, "Why do Hagen and
Ortwin hang back, and their friends, whereof they have enow in Burgundy?"

But these must needs hold their peace, as Gernot commanded them.

"Thou art welcome," said Uta's son; "thou and they comrades that are with
thee. We will serve thee gladly, I and my kinsmen."

They let pour for them Gunther's wine, and the host of that land, even
Gunther the king, said, "All that is ours, and whatsoever thou mayest
with honour desire, is thine to share with us, body and goods."

Then Siegfried was milder of his mood.

What he and his men had with them was seen to; they gave Siegfried's
knights good quarters and fair lodging; and they rejoiced to see the
stranger in Burgundy.

They did him honour many days: more than I can tell. This he won, I
trow, by his valour. Few looked on him sourly.

The king and his men busied them with sports, and in each undertaking
Siegfried still approved him the best. Whether they threw the stone or
shot with the shaft, none came near him by reason of his great strength.
Held the doughty warriors tourney before the women, then looked these
all with favour on the knight of the Netherland. But, as for him, he
thought only on his high love. The fair women of the court demanded who
the proud stranger was. "He is so goodly," they said, "and so rich his
apparel."

And there answered them folk enow, "It is the king of the Netherland."
Whatsoever sport they followed, he was ready. In his heart he bare the
beautiful maiden that as yet he had not seen: the which spake in secret
kind words also of him. When the youths tilted in the courtyard,
Kriemhild, the high princess, looked down at them from her window; nor,
at that time, desired she better pastime. Neither had he asked better,
had he known that his heart's dear one gazed upon him: the fairest thing
on earth had he deemed it to behold her eyes. When he stood there amidst
of the heroes in the tilt-yard, as the custom is, to rest at the tourney,
so graceful the son of Sieglind bare him, that the hearts of many maidens
yearned toward him. And ofttimes would he think, "How shall I attain to
behold the noble lady that I have loved long and dearly? She is still a
stranger. For this reason I am downcast."

When the rich kings rode abroad, it behoved th