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Chapter VIII: Act IV: Worms

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SCENE I

_Great hall._ GUNTHER _with his warriors._ HAGEN _carries a spear._

HAGEN.

A blind man e'en can hit a linden leaf;
At fifty paces I will wager you
With this good spear to split a hazelnut.

GISELHER.

Why dost thou choose this day to show thy skill?
We've always known thy arms would never rust.

HAGEN.

He comes! Now show me you can wear dark looks
And altered bearing although none has lost
His father.

SCENE II

_Enter SIEGFRIED._

SIEGFRIED.

Ho, ye knights! And hear ye not
The hounds give tongue, and hark! Our youngest hunter
Impatient tries his horn! To horse! Away!

HAGEN.

The day is fair!

SIEGFRIED.

And have you not been told
That bears have ventured in the very stalls,
And that the eagles wait before the doors
And watch when they are opened for a child
That may stray out?

VOLKER.

Indeed that has been known.

SIEGFRIED.

While we were courting no one thought to hunt.
Then come, and we'll drive back the enemy,
And hack and hew him.

HAGEN. Friend, more need have we
To grind our swords and nail our spear-heads firm.

SIEGFRIED.

And why?

HAGEN.

Thou'st dallied all these last few days
With honeyed words, else hadst thou well known why.

SIEGFRIED.

I am about to say farewell, ye know!
Yet speak, what's toward?

HAGEN.

Danes and Saxons too
Again are coming.

SIEGFRIED.

Are the princes dead,
Who swore allegiance to us?

HAGEN.

Nay, not dead;
They're leading on the army.

SIEGFRIED.

Lüdegast
And Lüdeger, who were my prisoners,
Set free without a ransom?

GUNTHER.

Yesterday
Renounced they every oath.

SIEGFRIED.

Their messengers--
You surely must have hewn them limb from limb?
Has every vulture had his share of them?

HAGEN.

So speakest thou?

SIEGFRIED.

Such vipers' messengers
One tramples like a viper. Fiends of hell!
Now feel I my first anger! I believed
That often I knew hatred, but I erred;
'Twas but less love I felt. For I can hate
Nothing but broken vows and treachery,
Hypocrisy and all the coward's sins
That seek their victim as the spider crawls
Upon its hollow legs. How can it be
That such brave men (for surely they were brave),
Could so besmirch themselves? Oh, my dear friends,
Stand not so coldly by and gaze on me
As though you thought me mad, as though I knew
No longer great from small! We've never known
What outrage is till now. Our reckoning
May we strike calmly out to the last score.
Only these two are guilty.

GISELHER.

Shameful 'tis.
The way they praised thee echoes in my ear.
When came this messenger?

HAGEN.

'Twas even now.
Didst thou not see him. He made haste to leave
As soon as he had done his errand here,
Nor tarried for his messenger's reward.

SIEGFRIED.

Oh, shame that you did not chastise the man
For impudence! A raven would have come
And plucked his eyes out, and in very scorn
Have cast them forth again before his lord.
That was the only answer that was due.
This is no lawful feud, this is no war
That right and custom sanction--'tis the chase
Of evil beasts! Nay, Hagen, do not smile!
The headsman's ax should be our weapon now,
So that we should not soil our noble blades,
And, since the ax is iron like the sword,
It were a shame to use it till we find
No rope would be enough to hang the dogs.

HAGEN.

Thou say'st!

SIEGFRIED.

Thou mockest at me as it seems.
'Tis strange, for trifles used to anger thee!
I know thou art an older man than I,
But 'tis not youth that's speaking through me now,
Nor is it indignation that 'twas I
Who begged thy mercy for them. Nay, I stand
For the whole world. As calls a bell to prayer,
So calls my tongue to vengeance every one
Who stands as man amidst his fellow-men.

GUNTHER.

'Tis so.

SIEGFRIED (_to_ HAGEN).

Know'st thou betrayal? Treachery
Gaze on the traitor! Smile then if thou canst.
To open combat dost thou challenge him
And dost o'erthrow him. But thou art too proud,
If not too noble, to thrust home thy sword,
And so thou set'st him free, and givest him
His weapons once again that thou hadst won.
He does not rage at thee and thrust them back;
He gives thee humble thanks and praises sweet
And swears with thousand oaths to be thy man.
But when, the honeyed words still in thine ear,
Thou lay'st thy weary limbs upon thy couch,
Bare and defenseless as a helpless child,
Then creeps the traitor up and murders thee,
And even while thou diest spits on thee.

GUNTHER (_to_ HAGEN).

What dost thou say to that?

HAGEN (_to_ GUNTHER).

This noble wrath
Gives me such courage that I ask our friend
If he will grant us escort yet once more.

SIEGFRIED.

With my own Nib'lungs will I go alone,
For it is by my fault this trouble comes
To ye again! Howe'er I longed to show
My bride unto my mother and to win
For the first time her undivided praise,
It may not be while yet these hypocrites
Have ovens for their bread and flowing springs
To slake their thirst! I will at once put off
My homeward journey, and I promise you
That I will take them living, and henceforth
Before my castle shall they lie in chains
And bay like hounds whene'er I come or go,
Since, as it seems, they have the souls of dogs!

[_He hastens away_.]

SCENE III

HAGEN.

He'll surely rush to her in all his rage,
And when he leaves, then I will seek her out.

GUNTHER.

I'll move in this no further.

HAGEN.

What, my King?

GUNTHER.

Bid heralds come once more and let them say
That there is peace again.

HAGEN.

It shall be done
When I have talked with Kriemhild privately
And learned the secret from her.

GUNTHER.

Hast thou then
No bowels of compassion? Thy hard heart
No pity feeleth yet?

HAGEN.

Speak plainly, lord;
I cannot understand.

GUNTHER.

He shall not die.

HAGEN.

He lives while thou commandest. If I stood
Behind him in the woods and poised my spear,
But shake thy head, and for this traitor dies
A beast.

GUNTHER.

Not traitor, no! Was it his fault
That he brought back the girdle carelessly
And Kriemhild found it? It escaped him there,
As clings an arrow in a warrior's mail
If after battle 'tis not shaken off,
And only by its rattling is it marked.
I ask you one and all: was it his fault?

HAGEN.

No! No! Who says so? Nor was he to blame
For lacking clever wits to clear himself,
For doubtless he blushed crimson at th' attempt.

GUNTHER.

What then remains?

HAGEN.

Brunhilda's oath remains.

GISELHER.

Then let her slay him if she wants his blood.

HAGEN.

We're quarreling like children. May one not
Collect his weapons, though he knoweth not
When he may need to use them? One explores
An unknown land and finds its passes out.
Then why not, pray, a hero? I will try
My fortune now with Kriemhild, if it were
Only that this fine ruse that we have planned
Might not be all in vain. She'll not betray
The secret to me unless he hath told
The matter to her. Then you may decide
Whether to use the knowledge I may gain;
And you may really do, if so you please,
What I shall but pretend, and so in war
Protect the place where death may find him out.
But you must know where is his mortal spot.

[_Exit_.]

SCENE IV

GISELHER (_to_ GUNTHER).

Thou hast returned to thine own loyalty
And faithfulness, or else I'd say: this trick
Is far beneath a king!

VOLKER.

Thy angry mood
Is natural; thou wast thyself deceived.

GISELHER.

That was not why. Yet let us not dispute
When all is well again.

VOLKER.

When all is well?

GISELHER.

Is it not well?

VOLKER.

They tell me that the Queen
In mourning robes is clad, and food and drink
Refuses--even water.

GUNTHER.

True, alas!

VOLKER.

How then is't well? What Hagen said is true.
She's not like others; for the breath of time
Her wounds can never heal, nor give her peace.
And we must face the question: He or she!
Thou sayest truly, Siegfried's not to blame
That to him clung the girdle like a snake,
And was discovered. That is pure mischance;
But this mischance is deadly, and thou canst
Determine only whom it shall destroy.

GISELHER.

Let that one die who hath no will to live!

GUNTHER.

Oh, fearful choice!

VOLKER.

I warned thee long ago,
From starting on this course, but now at last
We see the end.

DANKWART.

And is it not our law,
That even blunders bring their penalty
He who runs through his bosom friend by night
Because he bore his lance too carelessly,
Can never free himself with all his tears,
However hot and bitter they may flow.--
The price is blood.

GUNTHER.

Now I will go to her.

[_Exit_.]

SCENE V

VOLKER.

There comes Kriemhild with Hagen. She's distressed,
As he predicted. Let us go.

[_Exeunt omnes_.]

SCENE VI

_Enter_ HAGEN _and_ KRIEMHILD.

HAGEN.

Thou com'st
So early to the hall?

KRIEMHILD.

I could not bear
To linger in my chamber.

HAGEN.

Saw I not
Thy husband parting from thee? He was flushed,
And angry were his looks. Is there not peace
Between yourself and Siegfried once again?
Is he not kind and gentle with his bride?
Tell me, and I will talk with him.

KRIEMHILD.

Oh, no!
Did nothing else remind me of that day,
That evil day, 'twould be a dream that's past.
My lord hath spared me every unkind word.

HAGEN.

I'm glad he is so gentle.

KRIEMHILD.

I could wish
That he would blame me, yet perchance he knows
I blame myself enough!

HAGEN.

Be not too harsh!

KRIEMHILD.

I know how bitterly I wounded her!
I'll not forgive myself. I'd rather far
Have felt the hurt myself than injured her.

HAGEN.

And this it is that drove thee from thy room?

KRIEMHILD.

Oh, no! 'twould make me hide myself away!
I am so anxious for him!

HAGEN.

Dost thou fear?

KRIEMHILD.

There is another war.

HAGEN.

Yes, that is true.

KRIEMHILD.

The lying scoundrels!

HAGEN.

Be not overwrought
Nor cease thy preparations for the voyage.
Work tranquilly and do not be disturbed,
For thou canst put away his armor last.
What am I saying! For he wears no mail,
Nor doth he need to wear it.

KRIEMHILD.

Thinkest thou

HAGEN.

I well might laugh. If any other wife
So sighed, I'd say: Out of a thousand darts
But one could touch him, and that one would break.
But thee I ridicule and must advise
Let thy stray fancy sing some wiser song.

KRIEMHILD.

Thou speak'st of arrows! Arrows are the thing
That most I dread. I know an arrow's point
Needs at the most the space of my thumb nail
To penetrate, and yet it kills a man.

HAGEN.

Especially if 'tis a poisoned dart.
These savages, who broke the bulwark down,
The bulwark of our life and of the state,
Which we hold sacred even in our wars,
Would do a deed like this as soon as that.

KRIEMHILD.

Thou see'st!

HAGEN.

How can thy Siegfried come to harm?
He is secure. And if there were such shafts
That straighter flew than fly the sun's own rays,
He'd shake them off as we shake off the snow;
And this he knows, and so his confidence
Abandons him no moment in the fray.
We were not born beneath an aspen tree,
Yet we nigh tremble at the deeds he dares.
And heartily he laughs at this sometimes,
And we laugh too. For iron you may thrust
Into the fire--it changes into steel.

KRIEMHILD.

I shudder!

HAGEN.

Child, thou art but newly wed,
Or I'd rejoice at thy timidity.

KRIEMHILD.

Hast thou forgotten, or hast thou not heard
What in the ballads hath oft times been sung,
That Siegfried may be wounded in one spot?

HAGEN.

I'd quite forgotten that, although 'tis true.
I recollect, he spoke of it himself.
It seems to me he told us of a leaf,
But what it signified I cannot say.

KRIEMHILD.

It was a linden leaf.

HAGEN.

Oh yes! But say,
How could a linden leaf have done him harm?
For that's a riddle like no other one.

KRIEMHILD.

It floated down upon him on the breeze
When he was bathing in the dragon's blood,
And he is vulnerable where it fell.
HAGEN. He would have seen it if it fell in front!--
What matters it? Thou see'st thy nearest kin,
Thy brothers even, who would shield him still
Were but the shadow of a danger nigh,
Know nothing of his vulnerable spot.
What dost thou fear? Thy anguish is for naught.

KRIEMHILD.

I fear the Valkyries, for I have heard
They always choose the noblest warriors;
If they direct the dart, it ne'er can miss.

HAGEN.

But then he only needs a trusty squire.
Who shall protect his back. Think'st thou not so?

KRIEMHILD.

I think I should sleep sounder.

HAGEN.

Mark my words!
If he--thou know'st it almost happened once--
Should fall from out his skiff and in the Rhine
Should sink because his weapons drew him down
To feed the greedy fishes, I would plunge
To save our Siegfried, or else I myself
Would die with him.

KRIEMHILD.

And is thy thought so noble?

HAGEN.

So I think! And if the red cock lit
In darkest night upon his castle roof,
And he, half smothered and but half awake,
Should fail to find the way that leads to life,
I'd bear him from the flames in my own arms,
And should I not succeed, with him I'd die.

KRIEMHILD (_turns about to embrace him_).

Then must I--

HAGEN (_refusing the caress_).

Do not! But I swear, I'd do it.
Though only lately had I sworn that oath.

KRIEMHILD.

Thy kinsman he became but recently!
And dost thou really mean it? That thou would'st
Thyself?--

HAGEN.

I mean it, for he'll fight for me,
And no least one of all the thousand wonders
His sword can do, has he refused to me;
And so I'll shelter him!

KRIEMHILD.

I had not dared
To hope for that!

HAGEN.

But I must know the spot,
And thou must show it to me.

KRIEMHILD.

That is true!
Between his shoulders is it, half across.

HAGEN.

'Tis target height!

KRIEMHILD.

Oh uncle, you will not
Avenge on him the crime that's mine alone?

HAGEN.

What dost thou dream of?

KRIEMHILD. It was jealousy
That blinded me, or else her boastfulness
Would not have roused my anger.

HAGEN.

Jealousy!

KRIEMHILD.

I am ashamed! But even if that night
The blows were all, and that I will believe,
I grudge Brunhilda even blows from him.

HAGEN.

Be patient! She'll forget it.

KRIEMHILD.

Is it true
That she'll not eat or drink?

HAGEN.

She always fasts
This time of year, for 'tis the Norns' own week,
And still in Iceland 'tis a sacred time.

KRIEMHILD.

Three days have now passed by!

HAGEN.

What's that to us?
But hush! They're coming.

KRIEMHILD.

Well

HAGEN.

Were it not wise
To broider on his tunic a small cross?
Forsooth our care is needless, and he would
Deride thee if thou shouldst but tell thy fear.
Yet since I now have made myself his guard
I would not aught neglect.

KRIEMHILD.

That will I do.

[_She goes to meet_ UTE _and the Chaplain_.]

SCENE VII

HAGEN (_following her_).

Thy hero now is as a stag to me.
Had he not broken silence, he were safe,
And yet I surely knew that could not be.
If one's transparent as an insect is,
That looks now red, now green, as is its food,
One must beware of any mysteries,
Lest e'en the vitals show the secret forth!

SCENE VIII

UTE _and the Chaplain come forward_.

CHAPLAIN.

There is no image of it in this world!
You strive to liken it and comprehend,
Yet here all signs and measures too must fail.
But kneel before the Lord in fervent prayer,
And when contrition and humility
Have made you lose yourself, you may be drawn,
A moment only, as the lightning flash
Does tarry upon earth, to heavenly heights.

UTE.

And can that happen?

CHAPLAIN.

Stephen, blessed saint,
Saw, when the furious horde of angry Jews
Were stoning him, the gates of paradise
Standing ajar, and he rejoiced and sang.
His suffering body only they destroyed,
But 'twas to him as if the murderous band
That thought to kill him in their fury blind
Could only rend the garment he had doffed.

UTE (_to_ KRIEMHILD _who has joined them_).

Take heed, Kriemhild!

KRIEMHILD.

I do.

CHAPLAIN.

That was the power
Of faith; And ye must also learn the curse
Of unbelief. Saint Peter, who has charge
Of sword and keys of our most holy church,
Loved and instructed in the faith a youth,
And brought him up. One day upon a rock
The youth was standing, and the stormy sea
Around him surged in fury. Then he thought
Of how his Lord and Master left the ship,
And trustingly obeyed the slightest sign
The Saviour gave, and walked upon the deep
That tossed and threatened him with certain death.
A dizziness came o'er him at the thought
Of such a trial, for the wonder seemed
Beyond the bounds of reason, then he caught
A corner of the rock and clung to it,
Crying aloud: All, all, yet spare me this!
Then breathed the Lord, and suddenly the stone
Began to melt away. He sank and sank,
And lost all hope, until for very fear
He sprang from off the rock into the flood.
The breath of the Eternal stilled the sea,
And made it solid and it bore him up,
As kindly earth bears up both ye and me.
Repentantly he said: Thy will be done!

UTE.

In all eternity!

KRIEMHILD.

My Father, pray
That He who changes water and firm rock,
Will shield my Siegfried. For each sep'rate year
Of happy life vouchsafed me by his side
An altar will I build unto a saint.

[_Exit_ KRIEMHILD.]

CHAPLAIN.

The miracle astounds thee. Let me tell
The tale of how I won my friar's cowl.
The Angles are my kin, a heathen folk,
And as a heathen was I born and reared,
And turbulent I was; at fifteen years
The sword was girded on me. Then appeared
The Lord's first messenger among my tribe.
They scorned him and despised him, and at last
They slew him. Queen, I stood and saw it all,
And, driven by the others, gave to him
With this right hand I nevermore shall use,
Although the arm's not helpless as you think,
The final blow. But then I heard him pray.
He prayed for me, and his pure soul expired
With the Amen. The heart within my breast
Was changed from that time forth. I threw my sword
Upon the ground, and put his garment on
And went to preach the Gospel of the Cross.

UTE.

Here comes my son! Oh, couldst thou bring again
To this distracted land the peace we've lost
So utterly!

[_Exeunt_.]

SCENE IX

_Enter_ GUNTHER _with_ HAGEN _and the others_.

GUNTHER.

It is as I have said,
She reckons on the deed as we believe
That autumn brings us apples. The old nurse
Has tried to rouse her, and has quietly
Bestrewn her chamber all with grains of wheat;
They lie there undisturbed.

GISELHER.

How can it be
That she should venture life for life to stake?

HAGEN.

I marvel at her also.

GUNTHER. And withal
She neither drives nor urges, as with things
Bound up with time and place and human will
'Twere natural to do. She questions not
Nor changes countenance, but sits amazed
That any man should speak and not announce--
The deed is done!

HAGEN.

But I must tell thee this:
His spell is on her, and her very hate
Is rooted deep in love!

GUNTHER.

Believ'st thou so?

HAGEN.

'Tis not such love as binds, a man and wife,
In holy union.

GUNTHER.

How then?

HAGEN.

'Tis a charm,
A magic, that would keep her race alive.
So drives the giantess to seek her mate,
Joyless and choiceless, since they are the last.

GUNTHER.

Is there no hope?

HAGEN.

'Tis death must break the spell.
Her blood congeals when his has ceased to flow.
His destiny it was that he should slay
The dragon and then take the dragon's road.

[_A tumult is heard_.]

GUNTHER.

What may that be?

HAGEN.

'Tis those false messengers.
And Dankwart drives them forth. He does it well.
Lovers will hear it even while they kiss.

SCENE X

_Enter_ SIEGFRIED; _as_ HAGEN _notices hint_.

HAGEN.

By all the fiends of hell! No! ten times no!
It were disgrace for us, and Siegfried thinks
Assuredly as I do. Here he comes!
Now speak, thou may'st decide it.--

(_As_ DANKWART _enters_.)

Though thy word
Can alter nothing more. The answer's gone.

(_To_ DANKWART.)

Thou surely hast not spared to scourge them well

(_To_ SIEGFRIED.)

Yet set thy seal upon it even so!

SIEGFRIED.

What's this?

HAGEN.

The dogs have come again to sue
For peace. I ordered that the worthless knaves
With scourges should be driven from the court
Before they gave their message.

SIEGFRIED.

'Twas well done!

HAGEN.

The King indeed reproves me, for he thinks
We know not what has happened.

SIEGFRIED.

What? Not know?
I know! For when a wolf is chased along,
He harms not those before him!

HAGEN.

That is true!

SIEGFRIED.

And more than that! Behind them is a horde
Of savage tribesmen who will never sow,
And yet they want to reap.

HAGEN.

Now do you see?

SIEGFRIED.

But you should show no mercy on the wolf
Because he has no time to guard himself.

HAGEN.

We surely shall not.

SIEGFRIED.

Come, we'll help the foxes
And drive him to his final hiding place,
Within the foxes' bellies.

HAGEN.

That we'll do;
Yet let us not exert ourselves in vain,
And so--Let's hunt today.

GISELHER.

I will not go.

GERENOT.

Nor will I either.

SIEGFRIED.

You are young and brave,
Yet follow not the chase, but bide at home?
They would have had to tie me, and the cords
I would have gnawed in two. Oh huntsman's joy!
If one could only sing it!

HAGEN.

Wilt thou go?

SIEGFRIED.

Go!--Friend, I am so full of rage and wrath
That I could quarrel now with any man,
And so I long for bloodshed.

HAGEN.

And I too!

SCENE XI

_Enter_ KRIEMHILD.

KRIEMHILD.

You're going hunting?

SIEGFRIED.

Yes, and pray command
What I shall bring thee.

KRIEMHILD.

Siegfried, stay at home!

SIEGFRIED.

My child, one thing thou canst not learn too soon,
Thou must not beg a man to stay at home,
But beg him: Take me too!

KRIEMHILD.

Then, may I go?

HAGEN.

That may not be!

SIEGFRIED.

Why not? She's not afraid!
And surely she has often gone before.
Bring falcons here! For she shall take the birds,
And we the beasts. There'll be more pleasure so.

HAGEN.

One woman hides her shame within her room--
Her rival rideth gaily to the hunt?
'Twould look like taunting her.

SIEGFRIED.

I had not thought.
Ah well, it may not be.
KRIEMHILD. Then change again
Thy garments!

SIEGFRIED.

Yet again? Thy every wish
I'll follow, not thy fancies.

KRIEMHILD.

Thou'rt severe.

SIEGFRIED.

But let me go! The breeze will change my mood.
Tomorrow night I'll make my peace with thee.

HAGEN.

Then come!

SIEGFRIED.

I will. But now my farewell kiss.

[_He embraces_ KRIEMHILD.]

Thou'lt not deny me? Thou'lt not say, tomorrow,
As I do? Thou art noble.

KRIEMHILD.

Oh, come back!

SIEGFRIED.

But what a strange desire! What's wrong, I pray?
I go a-hunting with my own good friends,
And if the lofty mountains do not fall
And bury us, we cannot suffer harm.

KRIEMHILD.

Alas! That is the very thing I dreamed.

SIEGFRIED.

My child, the hills stand firm.

KRIEMHILD (_throws her arms around him once more_).

Come back! Come back!

[_Exeunt warriors_.]

SCENE XII

KRIEMHILD.

Siegfried!

SIEGFRIED (_appears once more_).

What now?

KRIEMHILD.

If thou wouldst not be angry--

HAGEN (_follows SIEGFRIED hastily_).

Well, hast thou got thy spindle yet?

SIEGFRIED (_to_ KRIEMHILD).

Thou Nearest,
The hounds can be no longer held in leash;
What dost thou wish?

HAGEN.

Oh wait, pray, for thy flax!
And spin it in the moonlight with the elves.

KRIEMHILD.

Now go! I longed to see thee once again!

[HAGEN _and_ SIEGFRIED _go out_.]

SCENE XIII

KRIEMHILD.

And should I call him to me ten times more
I'd never find the heart to tell it him.
How can we do what straightway we repent!

SCENE XIV

_Enter_ GERENOT _and_ GISELHER.

KRIEMHILD.

Are you not gone? The Lord hath sent them here!
My dearest brothers, earnestly I beg
Vouchsafe me my desire, though to you
It seems but foolish. Go ye with my lord
Where'er he goes, and keep behind his back.

GERENOT.

We are not going. We've no wish to go.

KRIEMHILD.

No wish to go!

GISELHER.

What say'st thou? We've no time!
We've much to do before our men march forth.

KRIEMHILD.

And is all that intrusted to your youth?
If I am dear to you, if you have not
Forgotten that one mother nourished us,
Ride after them.

GISELHER.

They're long since in the wood.

GERENOT.

And then thou hast one brother with him,
now,

KRIEMHILD.

I beg of you!

GISELHER.

We must collect the arms,
As thou shalt see.

[_Starts to go_.]

KRIEMHILD.

Then tell me one thing more
Is Hagen Siegfried's friend?

GERENOT.

Why not, I pray?

KRIEMHILD.

But has he ever praised him?

GISELHER.

It is praise
If Hagen does not blame, and I've not heard
That he found fault with Siegfried.

[_Both leave_.]

KRIEMHILD.

Most of all
This frightens me. They are not with my lord!

SCENE XV

_Enter_ FRIGGA.

KRIEMHILD.

How, nurse? Art seeking me?

FRIGGA.

I seek for none.

KRIEMHILD.

Then is there something wanted for the Queen?

FRIGGA.

There is not. She needs nothing.

KRIEMHILD.

Nothing still?
But can she not forgive?

FRIGGA.

I do not know!
She has had no occasion to forgive;
She never was offended. I heard horns.
Is there a hunt?

KRIEMHILD.

Hast thou then ordered it?

FRIGGA.

I--No!

[_Exit_.]

SCENE XVI

KRIEMHILD.

Oh, had I only told it him!
Oh, my beloved, no woman host thou known,
I see it now! Else nevermore hadst thou
Unto a trembling girl who doth betray
Herself through fear, intrusted such a secret.
Still do I hear the playful whispered words
With which thou told'st it to me when I praised
The dragon's death. And then I made thee swear
To tell no other soul in all the world,
And now--Oh birds that circle overhead,
Oh snow white doves that fly about me now,
Take pity on me, warn him, fly to him!

[_Exit_.]

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The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 09Chapter VIII: Act IV: Worms

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