ake only on Giselher, the youngest. Hagen ties his helmet more
tightly. Kriemhilde inquires whether they had brought her property, the
Nibelung treasure, with them.

"The Nibelung treasure," replies Hagen scornfully, "has been buried in
the deepest Rhine where it shall lie till the last day, and

"'To thee I bring the devil!
In this my buckler have I quite enough to bear,
And also in my armor this helm so fairly wrought
This sword my hand is holding; therefore I bring thee naught.'"

Kriemhilde requests the Burgundians to give up their arms, as is
customary, at friendly visits; Hagen refuses. She thus realizes that the
Burgundians must have been warned.

"Who has done this?" she inquires angrily. Proudly and firmly Dietrich
replies: "It is I, I have warned them; on me, thou, terrible one, wilt
not avenge this warning." Before his piercing eye Kriemhilde conceals
her boiling anger and retreats, throwing hostile glances upon her
enemies. The guests, too, retire guarded by the indefatigable Hagen and
Volker. For the last time, Volker's music rings out into the night as he
sings in sweet melodies the parting from life. It is the _dirge_ for the
Burgundian kings and heroes. Kriemhilde vainly endeavors to enlist
Hildebrand and Dietrich to aid her revenge. Both refuse.

"He who will slay the Nibelungs will do it without me," says Hildebrand.
Nor will Dietrich break faith to those who came in good faith and from
whom he had suffered no harm. He says: "By my hand Siegfried will remain
unavenged."

At last the queen by great promises wins Blodel, Etzel's brother. He
agrees to attack the lesser knights and the men-at-arms who under
Dankwart's command rest in the out-houses. During the surprise,
Kriemhilde quietly enters the dining hall of the royal castle where the
great heroes are already assembled. Her son Ortlieb, only five years
old, is presented by Etzel to his uncles and their favor is bespoken
when the prince shall be sent to Burgundy for his education. Now the
untamed fury of Hagen suddenly breaks out in a fearful explosion. The
fierce savagery of the Migration period, regardless of the Christian
varnish of the thirteenth century, in striking contrast to the elegiac
traits exhibited in the departure of the kings, in Giselher's betrothal
to Dietlinde and voiced in Volker's sweet melodies, reappears in an
unheard of act of brutal murder. Hagen exclaims that the young king does
not look