Then the voice cried again, “Come ye forth, women of the Goths, and thou, O Signy, my sister, come forth to seek the boughs of the Branstock.”  So fled the white-faced women from the fire, and passed scatheless by Sinfiotli’s blade, but Signy came not at all.  Then the earls of Siggeir strove to burst from the hall, but ever the two glaives at the doorways drove them back to the fire.

And, lo, now came Signy in queenly raiment, and stood before Sinfiotli and said, “O mightiest son, this is the hour of our parting, and fain am I of slumber and the end of my toil now I have seen this day.  And the blither do I leave thee because thy days on earth shall be but few; I charge thee make thy life glorious, and leave a goodly tale.”

She kissed him and turned to Sigmund, and her face in the dawn-light seemed to him fair and ruddy as in the days when they twain dwelt by the Branstock.  And she said, “My youth was happy, yet this hour is the crown of my life-days which draw nigh their ending.  And now I charge thee, Sigmund, when thou sittest once more a mighty king beneath the boughs of the Branstock, that thou remember how I loved the Volsung name, and spared not to spend all that was mine for its blossoming.”  Then she kissed him and turned again, and the dawn brightened at her back, and the fire shone red before her, and so for the last time was Signy beheld by the eyes of men.  Thereafter King Siggeir’s roof-tree bowed earthward, and the mighty walls crashed down, and so that dark murder-hall lay wasted, and its glory was swept away.

How Sigmund cometh to the Land of the Volsungs again, and of the death of Sinfiotli his Son.

  Now Sigmund the king bestirs him, and Sinfiotli, Sigmund’s son,
  And they gather a host together, and many a mighty one;
  Then they set the ships in the sea-flood and sail from the stranger’s shore,
  And the beaks of the golden dragons see the Volsungs’ land once more;
  And men’s hearts are fulfilled of joyance; and they cry, The sun shines now
  With never a curse to hide it, and they shall reap that sow! 
  Then for many a day sits Sigmund ’neath the boughs of the Branstock green,
  With his earls and lords about him as the Volsung wont hath been. 
  And oft he thinketh on Signy and oft he nameth her name,
  And tells how she spent her joyance and her life-days and her fame
  That the Volsung kin might blossom and bear the fruit of worth
  For the hope of unborn people and the harvest of the earth. 
  And again he thinks of the word that he spake that other day,
  How he should abide there lonely when his kin was passed away,
  Their glory and sole avenger, their after-summer seed.

But far and wide went Sinfiotli through the earth, mowing the war swathe and wasting the land, and passing but little time in song and laughter in his father’s hall.  So went his days in warfare and valour, and yet his end was not glorious, for he drank of the poisoned cup given him by the sister of a warrior he had rightly slain.