SIEGFRIED'S DEATH
A TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS
By FRIEDRICH HEBBEL
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
KING GUNTHER
HAGEN TRONJE
DANK WART
VOLKER
GISELHER
GERENOT
WULF Warrior
TRUCES Warrior
RUMOLT
SIEGFRIED
UTE
KRIEMHILD
BRUNHILDA, Queen of Iceland
FRIGGA, her nurse
A CHAPLAIN
A CHAMBERLAIN
Warriors, Populace, Maidens, Dwarfs
SIEGFRIED'S DEATH (1862)
TRANSLATED BY KATHARINE ROYCE
ACT I
Iceland, BRUNHILDA'S castle. Early morning.
SCENE I
Enter BRUNHILDA and FRIGGA from opposite sides.
BRUNHILDA.
From whence so early? Dewy is thy hair
And blood-stained are thy garments.
FRIGGA.
I have made
A sacrifice unto the ancient gods,
Before the moon was gone.
BRUNHILDA.
The ancient gods!
The cross rules now, and Thor and Odin dwell
As devils in deep hell.
FRIGGA.
And dost thou fear
Them less for that? Their curses still may fall
Upon us, though their blessings are withheld,
And willingly I sacrificed the ram.
Oh, wouldst thou kill one too! Thy need is great
Above all others.
BRUNHILDA.
Mine?
FRIGGA.
Another time.
I long had meant to tell thee, and today
At last the hour has come.
BRUNHILDA.
I've always thought
That at thy death the hour would come to me,
So did not importune thee.
FRIGGA.
Mark me now!
From our volcano came there suddenly
An aged man and left with me a child,
A tablet, too, with runes.
[Illustration: Peter Cornelius Title Page of the Nibelungenlied]
BRUNHILDA.
'Twas in the night?
FRIGGA.
How dost thou know?
BRUNHILDA.
When on thee falls the moonlight—On thy face, thou speakest oft aloud, Betraying much.
FRIGGA.
And thou didst harken to me?
At midnight we were watching with our dead—Our
beauteous Queen. The old man's hair was white,
And longer than a woman's. Like a cloak
It hung about him, flowing softly down.
BRUNHILDA.
The spirit of the mountain!
FRIGGA.
Naught know I!—
No syllable he spoke. The little maid
Reached forth her hands and grasped the golden crown
That glittered brightly o'er the dead Queen's brow.
We marveled that it fitted her.
BRUNHILDA.
The child?
FRIGGA.
The little maid; and it was none too large,
Nor later did it bind her.
BRUNHILDA.
'Twas like mine!
FRIGGA.
Like thine it was! And, yet more wonderful.
The child was like the maid that lay there dead
Within the mother's arms and disappeared
As had it ne'er existed—yes, so like
That only by the breathing could we know
The living from the dead. It seemed to us
That nature must have formed one body twice,
With life for one child only.
BRUNHILDA.
Had the Queen
A new-born baby in her arms?
FRIGGA.
Her life
She gave to bear her child, and with her died
The little maid.
BRUNHILDA.
Thou didst not tell me that.
FRIGGA. I never thought to tell thee. Sorrow broke
The mother's heart that she could never show
Her baby to her lord. For many years
This priceless joy in vain he had desired,
And, just a month before the child was born,
A sudden death o'ertook him.
BRUNHILDA.
Tell me more!
FRIGGA.
We sought the aged man, but he was gone.
The glowing mountain that had been cleft through
As one might split an apple, slowly now
Was drawn together there before our eyes.
BRUNHILDA.
The old man came no more?
FRIGGA.
Now hark to me!
Next morning to the grave we bore our Queen;
But when the priest was ready to baptize
The little maid, his arm fell helpless down,
Nor could he touch her forehead with the dew
Of holy water, and his good right arm
He never lifted more.
BRUNHILDA.
What, never more!
FRIGGA.
The man was old, and so we marveled not.
We called another priest. The holy dew
He sprinkled on the child. The blessed words
Of benediction halted on his tongue,
Nor hath his speech returned.
BRUNHILDA.
And now the third?
FRIGGA.
For him we waited long. We had to seek
In other lands afar, where of the tale
None knew. At last this priest baptized the child.
His holy office ended, down he fell
Upon the ground and nevermore arose!
BRUNHILDA.
And did the baby live
FRIGGA.
She throve apace,
And strong she grew. Her playful ways to us
Were signs what we should do or leave undone.
They ne'er deceived us, for the runes had said
That we might trust them ever.
BRUNHILDA.
Frigga! Frigga!
FRIGGA.
Thou art indeed the maid! Now dost thou know
Not in the gloomy caverns of the dead,
In Hecla where the ancient gods still dwell,
Among the Norns, among the Valkyries,
Seek thou the mother that gave birth to thee!
Oh, that no drop of holy water e'er
Had touched thy brow! Then were we wiser far.
BRUNHILDA.
What dost thou murmur?
FRIGGA.
How then did it hap
That on this morning we were not in bed,
But fully robed had tarried in the hall?
Our teeth were chattering and our lips were blue.
BRUNHILDA.
A sudden sleep o'erwhelmed us, that was all.
FRIGGA.
But had it ever happened?
BRUNHILDA.
Not before.
FRIGGA.
Then hark! The old man came and tried to speak.
It almost seems as if I'd seen him stand
And grasp thy shoulder; and he threatened me,
But heavy was thy sleep. Thou should'st not hear
What fate awaits thee if thou dost persist.
So offer sacrifice and then be free.
Oh, had I paid no heed unto the priest,
Howe'er he urged me! But the sacred runes
I had not read aright.—Come, sacrifice,
For danger cometh nigh.
BRUNHILDA.
'Tis nigh?
FRIGGA.
Alas!
Thou knowest that the fiery sea is quenched
That flamed around thy castle.
BRUNHILDA. Yet the knight
Still lingers who should wield the magic sword
And on his war-horse gallop through the flames,
When he had won proud Fafner's ill-starred hoard.
FRIGGA.
I may have erred. But yet this second sign
Cannot deceive me, for I long have known
That when the fateful hour shall come to thee,
Clear vision doth await thee. Sacrifice!
Mayhap the ancient gods surround thee now
Invisibly, and they will straight appear
With the first blood-drops of thine offering.
BRUNHILDA.
I do not fear.
[Trumpets are heard.]
FRIGGA.
The trumpets!
BRUNHILDA.
Hast thou ne'er
Heard them before.
FRIGGA.
Never before with dread.
The time for lopping thistle-heads is past,
And iron helms arise before thee now.
BRUNHILDA.
Come hither all! For I will let her see
Brunhilda still can conquer! While the sea
Of fire still flamed I hastened forth to meet ye,
And friendly, as a trusty dog will spring
To give his master room, my faithful fire
Drew back before me, sank on either hand;
The road stands open now, but not my heart.
[She ascends her throne.]
Now fling the portals wide and let them in!
Whoever here may come, his head is mine!
SCENE II
The gates are opened. Enter SIEGFRIED, GUNTHER, HAGEN and VOLKER
BRUNHILDA.
Who cometh seeking death?
(To SIEGFRIED.)
Ah! Is it thou?
SIEGFRIED.
I am not seeking death, nor will I sue.
And too much honor dost thou yield to me
In greeting Gunther's guide before himself,
For I am but his helper.
BRUNHILDA (turning to GUNTHER).
Then 'tis thou?
And know'st thou what is toward?
GUNTHER.
Full well I know!
SIEGFRIED.
The rumor of thy beauty spreads abroad,
But further still the fame of thy hard heart.
And who hath gazed but once in thy deep eyes
Will nevermore forget, e'en in his cups,
That dreadful death beside thee always stands.
BRUNHILDA.
Tis true! Who cannot conquer, he must die,
And all his servants with him. Smilest thou?
Be not so proud! For if thou cam'st to me
As thou could'st hold a beaker full of wine
On high above thy head and still could'st gaze
On me as on a picture, yet I swear
That thou shalt fall as any other falls.
(TO GUNTHER.)
But thee I counsel, if thine ears can hear,
List to my maidens! Bid them tell the tale
Of heroes that my hand hath laid full low!
The chance may hap among them there is one
Hath tried his strength with thee. There may be one
Hath laid thee conquered at his very feet!
HAGEN.
Ne'er was King Gunther conquered. That I vow!
SIEGFRIED.
High stands his castle by the Rhine at Worms,
And rich are all the treasures of his land;
Yet o'er all heroes stands he higher still,
And richer far in honors is our King.
HAGEN.
Thy hand, thou lowlander! Thou speakest well!
VOLKER.
And would it be so hard to leave this land
Amidst the ocean's desert solitude—
Of thy free will to leave it, and the King
To follow forth to life from night and hell?
This land is like no other on the earth.—
A desert waste, a rockbound wilderness;
All living things have fled long since in fear,
And if thou lovest it, 'tis only this,
That thou wast born the last of all thy race.
Above, the storms rage ever, and the sea
Forever surgeth and the fiery mount
In labor moaneth, while the fearful light
That streameth ruddy from the firmament,
As streams the blood from sacrificial stone,
Is such as devils only may endure.—
To breathe the air is like to drinking blood!
BRUNHILDA.
What knowest thou of this my wilderness?
Naught have I lacked from that fair world of thine.
And if I longed for aught, that would I take.
Remember that! Brunhilda needs no gifts!
SIEGFRIED.
Did I not tell ye true? To arms! To arms!
By force must she be brought from her wild home!
And once 'tis done, then will she give thee thanks.
BRUNHILDA.
Perchance that is not true. And knowest thou
The sacrifice thou askest? Thou know'st not,
And no man knoweth. Harken now to me,
And ask yourselves how I'll defend my rights.
With us the time is motionless; we know
Nor spring nor summer nor the autumntide.
The visage of the year is e'er the same,
And we within the land are changeless too.
But although nothing grows and blooms with us,
As in the sunlight of your distant home,
Still in our darkness ripen precious fruits
That in your land ye neither sow nor reap.
In the fierce joy of battle I delight
To conquer every haughty foe that comes
To steal my freedom. And I have my youth,
My glorious youth, and all the joy of life,
Which still suffice me, and, ere these I lose,
The benediction of the fates will fall
Invisibly upon me. I shall be
Their consecrated priestess evermore.
FRIGGA.
Is't possible? My offering sufficed?
BRUNHILDA.
The solid earth shall open 'neath my feet
Revealing all that's hidden in its depths;
And I shall hear the singing of the stars,
And their celestial music understand.
And still another joy shall be my share,
A third one, all impossible to grasp.
FRIGGA.
'Tis thou, 'tis Odin, hast unsealed her eyes!
In the deep night her ear was closed to thee—
Yet now she sees the spinning of the Norns.
BRUNHILDA (rising to her full height, with fixed and dreaming
eyes).
There comes a morning when I do not go
To hunt for bears, or find the great sea-snake
That's frozen in the ice, and set him free,
So that his struggles may not smite the stars.
I leave the castle early, bravely mount
My faithful steed. He bears me joyfully,
But suddenly I halt. Before my feet
The earth has turned to air, and shuddering
I wheel about. Behind me 'tis the same!
All is transparent—glowing clouds beneath,
As overhead. My maidens prattle still.
I call them—Are ye blind? Do ye see naught?
We float in empty space! They are amazed,
They shake their heads in silence, while they press
About me closer. Frigga whispers me:
And has thine hour come? Ah, now I see!
The solid earth is crystal to my gaze,
And what I deemed were clouds were but the web
Of gold and silver threads that, glistening,
Lay tangled in the depths.
FRIGGA.
Thy triumph comes!
BRUNHILDA.
An evening comes. All's changed, and lingering
We sit here late together. Suddenly,
As they were dead, the maidens fall; their words
Are frozen on their lips. I needs must go
Upon the tower, for above me rings
The sep'rate music of each farthest star.
At first 'tis only music to mine ear,
But with the dawn I murmur as in sleep:
The King will die ere nightfall and his son
Will never see the daylight, for he dies
Within his mother's womb! The others say
That so I told my tale, but I know naught
Of how I learned it. Soon I understand,
And swift the rumor flies from pole to pole
And distant people flock as now to me,
But not with swords to battle with me here—
Nay, humbly come they, laying by their crowns,
To hear my dreams and strive to understand
The meaning of my murmurings. For my eyes
Can see the future, in my hands I hold
The key to all the treasures of this world.
Far above all I rule, untouched by fate,
And yet the fates I know. But I forget.
That even more is promised me. There roll
Whole centuries away—millenniums—
I feel them not! Yet finally I ask:
Where then is death? My tresses answer me—
I see them in the mirror—they are black,
The snow has never touched them, and I say:
This is the third gift. Death comes not to me.
[She sinks back, and the maidens support her.]
FRIGGA.
Why fear I still? For were it[1] Balmung's lord,
She hath a shield that will protect her now.
He'll fall, e'en if she loves but yet resists,
And she will struggle, since her fate she knows.
BRUNHILDA (rising again).
I spoke! What said I?
FRIGGA.
Take thy bow, my child.
Thy dart will fly today as ne'er before,
All else may wait!
BRUNHILDA (to the knights).
Come on!
SIEGFRIED (to BRUNHILDA).
Thou swear'st
To follow us if thou art overcome?
BRUNHILDA (laughs).
I swear!
SIEGFRIED.
'Tis well! And I'll prepare the ship!
BRUNHILDA (while going away addresses FRIGGA).
Go now into the trophy hall and drive
The nail that will be needed.
(To the knights.)
Follow me!
[Exeunt omnes.]
ACT II
Worms. Courtyard of the Castle.
SCENE I
Enter RUMOLT and GISELHER, meeting.
GISELHER.
Now, Rumolt, will a single tree be left?
For weeks now thou hast brought whole forests in
And grimly thou provid'st the wedding feast,
As if men, dwarfs, and elves were all to come.
RUMOLT.
I make me ready, and if I should find
A single kettle that's not full enough,
I'll seize the lazy cook and throw him in
And use the scullion-boy to stir the stew.
GISELHER.
Art thou so certain what the end will be?
RUMOLT.
I am, for Siegfried woos. The man who takes
Two noble princes captive, sends them home
As though they were no more than frightened hares,
Will not be daunted by a witch-wife now.
GISELHER.
There thou art right! We have good hostages
Since we have Lüdegast and Lüdeger!
They meant to bring a host of armèd men,
A greater than e'er Burgundy had seen.
Yet humbly here as prisoners they came,
Nor needed any guard upon their way.
So cook, my man, we shall not want for guests!
[GERENOT enters.]
And here's the hunter!
GERENOT.
But he brings no game!
I was upon the tower and saw the Rhine
All covered o'er with ships.
RUMOLT.
It is the bride!
I'll send my men to drive the beasts about,
That from the noisy turmoil in the court
The sound shall reach afar and prove to her
The welcome that awaits her!
[Trumpets are heard.]
GERENOT.
'Tis too late!
SCENE II
Enter SIEGFRIED, with retinue.
SIEGFRIED.
Here am I once again!
GISELHER.
Without my brother?
SIEGFRIED.
Nay, fear not! As his messenger I come!—
And yet I bear the message not for thee!
'Tis for thy Lady Mother, and I hope
That I may see thy sister Kriemhild, too.
GISELHER.
Brave knight, that shalt thou, for we owe to thee
Our thanks for capturing the noble Danes.
SIEGFRIED.
I wish that I had never sent them here.
GISELHER.
Why so? Thou hadst no better way to prove
What we have gained in winning thy right arm,
For truly are the Princes stalwart men!
SIEGFRIED.
It may be! Yet had I not done the deed,
Perhaps some bird had flown and spread abroad
The rumor that the Danes had slain me there,
And I might ask how Kriemhild heard the tale.
GISELHER.
But as it is they help thy cause enough!
That one can take good metal and alloy
And beat them into trumpets smooth and round,
I long have known. But that one could shape men
In such a way I knew not, but these two
Show us the work of such a smith as thou.
They praised thee—If thou hadst been there to hear,
Thy cheeks would still flame scarlet! Yet 'twas not
With measured praise, as men will praise their foe,
Thinking to lessen thus the burning shame
Of their own downfall. No, 'twas heartfelt praise.
But you should hear Kriemhilda tell the tale.
Unweariedly she asked them o'er and o'er.—
She's coming now.
SCENE III
Enter UTE and KRIEMHILD.
SIEGFRIED.
I pray you!
GISELHER.
What's thy wish?
SIEGFRIED.
I never longed to have my father by,
That he might teach me how to bear my arms,
But ah! today I need my mother so,
That I might ask her how to use my tongue.
GISELHER.
Give me thy hand, since thou art shamefaced too.
They call me here "the child." Now let them see
A "child" may lead a lion!
[He leads SIEGFRIED to the women.]
'Tis the knight
From Netherland!
SIEGFRIED.
Fair ladies, do not fear,
Because I've come alone.
UTE.
Brave Siegfried, no!
We do not fear, for thou art not the man
Who's left alone when all but he are dead,
To bear his tale, a messenger of woe.
Thou comest to announce a daughter dear,
And Kriemhild hath a sister.
SIEGFRIED.
So it is,
My Queen!
GISELHER.
So is it! Nothing more? And scarce
Those few words could he utter! Dost thou grudge
The king his bride? Or hast thou lamed thy tongue
In battle? That was never known before.
But no, for thou could'st use it fast enough
To tell me of Brunhilda's dark brown eyes
And raven tresses.
SIEGFRIED.
Prithee, say not so!
GISELHER.
How hotly he denies it! See him raise
On high three fingers, swearing that he loves
Blue eyes—light hair!
UTE.
This is an arrant rogue!
He is nor boy nor man, sapling nor tree.
And long hath he outgrown his mother's rod,
Nor ever hath he felt his father's whip.
Ungoverned is he as a yearling colt,
That's never known the bridle or the whip.
We must forgive or punish him!
SIEGFRIED.
'Twere not
So easy as you think! To break a colt
Is difficult, and many limp away
Ashamed, and cannot mount him!
UTE.
Then once more
He 'scapes his punishment!
GISELHER.
As a reward,
I'll tell a secret to thee.
KRIEMHILD.
Giselher!
GISELHER.
What hast thou to conceal? Be not afraid!
I do not know thy secret, nor will blow
The ashes from thy embers.—Never fear!
UTE.
What is it then?
GISELHER.
I have myself forgotten.
When a man's sister blushes rosy-red,
'Tis natural a brother is surprised
And seeks to know the reason.—Never mind!
The secret I'll recall before I die,
And then shall Siegfried learn it.
SIEGFRIED.
Thou may'st jeer,
For I forget my message utterly,
And ere I've given word that you should don
Your festal garments, do the trumpets blow,
And Gunther and his train bring in the bride!
GISELHER.
Dost thou not see the steward hastening?
Thy very coming told enough to him!
But I will help!
[He goes to RUMOLT.]
KRIEMHILD.
A noble messenger
May not be paid with gifts!
SIEGFRIED.
Indeed he may!
KRIEMHILD (fastens her bracelet and in so doing drops her handkerchief).
SIEGFRIED (snatches at the handkerchief).
This is my gift.
KRIEMHILD.
Pray, no! 'Twere all unworthy!
SIEGFRIED.
Jewels I value as another, dust.
And houses can I build of gold and silver,
Yet lack I such a kerchief!
KRIEMHILD.
Take it then!
It is my handiwork.
SIEGFRIED.
And thy free gift?
KRIEMHILD.
My noble Siegfried, yes, 'tis my free gift.
UTE.
I crave thy pardon—it is time to go!
[Exit, with KRIEMHILD.]
SCENE IV
SIEGFRIED.
A Roland[2] would have stood as stood I here!
I wonder that the sparrows did not nest
Within my hair.
SCENE V
Enter the CHAPLAIN.
CHAPLAIN (advances).
Your pardon, noble sir,
Has Brunhild been baptized?
SIEGFRIED.
She is baptized.
CHAPLAIN.
Then 'tis a Christian land from which she comes?
SIEGFRIED.
They fear the cross.
CHAPLAIN (steps back again).
Perchance 'tis there as here!
Where men will place it next to Wotan's tree
Right gladly, for they do not surely know
If magic may not dwell there; as we see
Devoutest Christians hesitate to break
A heathen image, for some remnant still
Awakes within them of the olden fear
Before those staring eyes.
SCENE VI
Flourish of trumpets. BRUNHILDA, FRIGGA, GUNTHER, HAGEN, VOLKER, retainers, KRIEMHILD and UTE approach them from the castle.
GUNTHER.
And here's the castle!
My mother's coming now to welcome thee,
Kriemhilda too.
VOLKER (_to BRUNHILDA, as the women approach each other).
Are they no gain to thee?
HAGEN.
Siegfried, a word! Thy trick availed us naught.
SIEGFRIED.
Availed us naught? Was she not vanquished then?
Is she not here?
HAGEN.
What profit is in that?
SIEGFRIED.
Why, all!
HAGEN.
But nay! Who cannot take by force
Her first caress will master nevermore
This maid, and Gunther is not strong enough.
SIEGFRIED.
And has he tried?
HAGEN.
Why else should I complain?
In full sight of the castle! She at first
Resisted him, as it befits a maid,
And as our mothers may have done of old;
But when she saw that but the lightest touch
Sufficed to drive the ardent wooer forth,
She grew enraged, and, when he tarried still,
She seized and held him with her outstretched arm
Above the Rhine. A shame it was to him,
A shame to all of us.
SIEGFRIED.
She is a witch!
HAGEN.
Chide not, but help!
SIEGFRIED.
I think that if the priest
But married them—
HAGEN.
Were that old hag not there,
The woman that attends her! All day long
She spies and questions, and she sits by her
As the embodiment of wise old age.
I fear the nurse the most.
UTE (to KRIEMHILD and BRUNHILDA).
Now love each other,
And may the circlet that your arms have twined
In this first joyful moment widen out
Further and further to a perfect ring
Within which you may wander, side by side,
Sharing your joys in harmony complete!
Yours is a privilege that I had not,
For what I might not say unto my lord
I had to bear in silence; but at least
I could not speak complainingly of him.
KRIEMHILD.
Let us be like two sisters.
BRUNHILDA.
For your sake
Your son and brother may imprint the seal
Upon my lips that stamps me as his maid
Before the nightfall comes, for I am still
Unblemished and untouched like some young tree,
And were it not for your sweet gentleness
Forever would I hold this shame afar.
UTE.
Thou speak'st of shame?
BRUNHILDA.
Forgive me for that word;
I speak but as I feel. And I am strange
Here in your world, and as my rugged land
Would surely terrify you, were you there,
So does your land alarm me, for I feel
That here I could not have been born at all—Yet
must I live here!—Is the sky so blue
Forever?
KRIEMHILD.
Nearly all the time 'tis blue.
BRUNHILDA.
We know not blue, unless we see blue eyes,
And those we only have with ruddy hair
And milk-white faces! Is it always still,
And does the wind blow never?
KRIEMHILD.
Sometimes storms
O'erwhelm the land, and then the day is night
With thunderpeals and lightning.
BRUNHILDA.
Would it come
Today!—'Twould be a greeting from my home!
I cannot well endure the brilliant light;
It pains me and it makes me feel so bare,
As if no garment here were thick enough!
And are those flowers—red and gold and green?
KRIEMHILD. Thou ne'er hast seen them, yet thou know'st their hues?
BRUNHILDA. Of precious stones there is with us no lack—
Though never white or black ones; yet my hands
Have taught me white, and raven is my hair.
KRIEMHILD. Thou canst not know of fragrance!
[She plucks a violet for her.]
BRUNHILDA.
Oh how sweet!
And is't that tiny flower that breathes it forth—
The only one my eye did not observe?
I'd love to give the flower a pretty name—
But surely it is named.
KRIEMHILD.
The little flower
Is lowlier than all, and none thy foot
More easily had crushed, for it appears
To be ashamed that it is more than grass,
And so it hides its head; but yet it drew
A gentle word from thee, the first we've heard.
So let it be a token that within
Our land is much that's hidden from thy gaze
That will delight thee.
BRUNHILDA.
That I hope indeed—
For I need joy! Thou know'st not what it is
To be a woman, yet to overcome
A man in every combat and to gain
His strength that ebbs away as flows his blood,
And from the steaming blood breathe in new force—
To feel yourself grow stronger, braver yet,
And then, when victory is surer still—
[Turning suddenly]
Frigga, I ask again! What did I see—
Before that latest contest, what said I?
FRIGGA.
It seemed thy spirit must have seen this land.
BRUNHILDA.
This land!
FRIGGA.
Thou didst rejoice.
BRUNHILDA.
And I rejoiced!—
Thine eyes, however, flamed.
FRIGGA.
Because I saw
Thy happiness.
BRUNHILDA.
These warriors looked to me
As white as snow.
FRIGGA.
They had been ever so.
BRUNHILDA.
Wherefore didst thou conceal the dream so long?
FRIGGA.
It is but now that it is clear to me,
Now that I can compare.
BRUNHILDA.
If I rejoiced
When my prophetic vision saw this land,
I must rejoice again.
FRIGGA.
Thou surely shalt!
[Illustration: SIEGFRIED'S RETURN FROM THE SAXON WAR From the
Painting by Schnorr von Carolsfeld]
BRUNHILDA.
And yet it seems to me the vision dealt
With stars and metals too.
FRIGGA.
Yes, that is so.
Thou said'st the stars gleamed still more brightly here.
But yet that gold and silver were but dull.
BRUNHILDA.
Was't so?
FRIGGA (to HAGEN).
Is't not the truth?
HAGEN.
I paid no heed.
BRUNHILDA.
I beg you all to treat me as a child;
Though I shall grow up faster than another.
Yet now I am no better.
(To FRIGGA.)
That was all?
FRIGGA.
Yes, all!
BRUNHILDA.
Then all is well! Then all is well!
UTE (to GUNTHER, who has approached).
My son, if she's too bitter toward thee now,
But give her time! The clamor of the crows
And ravens that she heard could never make
Her heart grow softer, but 'twill soften now
With the lark's song and with the nightingale.
HAGEN. So speaks the minstrel when he is in love,
And plays with foolish puppies. 'Tis enough!
The maiden must have time to find her heart,
But for the princess, hold her to her word;
By right of conquest she's already thine.—Then
claim thy rights!
(He calls.)
Chaplain!
(And starts on.)
GUNTHER.
I'll follow thee!
SIEGFRIED.
Wait, Gunther, wait! What didst thou promise me!
GUNTHER.
May I, my Kriemhild, choose a spouse for thee?
KRIEMHILD.
My lord and brother, be it as thou wilt!
GUNTHER (to UTE).
I have no opposition then to fear?
UTE.
Thou art the king, thy handmaids, she and I.
GUNTHER.
I beg thee then amongst my kinsfolk here:
Redeem an oath for them and me, and give
Thy hand to noble Siegfried.
SIEGFRIED.
I've no power
To speak as I could wish to, when I gaze
Upon thy face, and of my stammering tongue
Perchance thou hast already heard enough.
And so I ask thee as the hunter asks,
But that I blow no feathers from my hat,
To hide my fear: O maiden, wilt thou me?
Yet lest thou err'st through my simplicity,
And unenlightened actest in the dark,
So let me tell thee, ere thou answer'st me,
How my own mother blames me oftentimes.
She says that I am surely strong enough
To conquer all the world, but yet to rule
The smallest molehill I'm too simple far.
And if I do not lose my very eyes
'Tis only that the thing's impossible.
Thou may'st believe the half of what she says,
The other half though, I can well disprove.
For if I once have won thee, I will show
The world how I can keep unharmed mine own.
Again I ask thee: Kriemhild, wilt thou me?
KRIEMHILD.
Why dost thou smile, my mother? I have not
Forgotten what I dreamed, the shudder still
Creeps over me and warns me more and more,
But still I say with dauntless courage: Yes!
BRUNHILDA (steps between KRIEMHILD and SIEGFRIED).
Kriemhild!
KRIEMHILD.
What wilt thou?
BRUNHILDA.
I will prove myself
Thy sister.
KRIEMHILD.
Now? Wherein?
BRUNHILDA (to SIEGFRIED).
How dost thou dare
Aspire to her, the daughter of a king?
How dost thou dare, a vassal such as thou,
A serving man!
SIEGFRIED.
What?
BRUNHILDA.
Cam'st thou not as guide,
As messenger departed?
(To GUNTHER.)
Canst thou suffer
And aid him in such boldness?
GUNTHER.
Siegfried is
The first of all our warriors.
BRUNHILDA.
Grant him then
The foremost seat beside thy very throne.
GUNTHER.
In treasure, he is richer far than I.
BRUNHILDA.
Is that his claim upon thy sister? Shame!
GUNTHER.
A thousand of my enemies he's slain.
BRUNHILDA.
The man who conquered me thanks him for that?
GUNTHER.
He is a king as I am.
BRUNHILDA.
Yet he ranks
Himself amongst thy servants?
GUNTHER.
I will solve
This riddle for thee when thou art mine own.
BRUNHILDA.
Ere I am thine thy secret will I know.
UTE.
Thou wilt refuse to call me mother then?
Oh tarry not too long, for I am old.
And worn with many sorrows!
BRUNHILDA.
As I swore,
I'll go with him to church, and I will be
Most willingly thy daughter—not his wife.
HAGEN (to FRIGGA).
Pray quiet her!
FRIGGA.
What need is there of me?
For if he once has overcome Brunhild,
The second time he surely will not fail;
And self-defense is every maiden's right.
SIEGFRIED (taking KRIEMHILD by the hand).
That all may know me henceforth as a king,
The Niblung's treasure do I give to thee.
And now thy duty and my right I claim.
[He kisses her.]
HAGEN.
To church!
FRIGGA.
Does Siegfried hold the Niblung's hoard?
HAGEN.
Thou heard'st! The trumpets!
FRIGGA.
And is Balmung[3] his?
HAGEN.
Why not? Musicians! Wedding music here!
[Loud and joyful music. Exeunt omnes.]
SCENE VII
The great hall. Enter TRUCHS and WULF. Dwarfs bring treasures across the stage.
TRUCHS.
I am for Kriemhild.
WULF.
And for Brunhild I.
TRUCHS.
And why, if thou wilt tell me?
WULF.
Where would be
The play of rival lances, if we all
Should wear one color?
TRUCHS.
Why, I grant thee that!
The reason is sufficient, otherwise
It were mere madness.
WULF.
Say it not so loud,
For many heroes swear by Brunhild now.
TRUCHS.
They are as different as day and night.
WULF.
Who says they're not? Yet many love the night.
[Points to the dwarfs.]
What are they bringing?
TRUCHS.
It must be the hoard,
The treasure of the Niblungs Siegfried won.
He's called the dwarfs for escort duty here,
And bade them bring the treasure, and I'm told
It is the marriage portion for his bride.
WULF.
Uncanny are these dwarfs, with hollow backs!
But turn one over—there's a kneading trough!
TRUCHS.
And ever with the dragons is their home
Within the earth and in the mountain caves.—
First cousins to the moles they are.
WULF.
But strong!
TRUCHS.
And clever are they too! One need not seek For mandrakes[4] if one has these dwarfs for friends.
WULF (pointing toward the treasure).
He who owns that needs neither of the two.
TRUCHS.
I love it not. It is an ancient saw
That magic gold is thirstier for blood
Than ever was the driest sponge for water;
And, more than all, the Niblung heroes tell
The strangest tales!
WULF.
Of ravens was the talk.
What was it then? I heard it not aright.
TRUCHS.
A raven flew and lit upon the gold,
When it was carried to the ship, and there
He croaked till Siegfried, who could understand,
At first stopped up his ears and would not hear,
And whistled. Then the precious stones he threw
To drive the bird, and when it would not fly,
At last in desperation cast his spear.
WULF.
Why, that is strange! For Siegfried is at heart
As gentle as he's brave.
[Horns are heard.]
They call for us!
They're gath'ring! Ho, Brunhilda!
TRUCHS.
Kriemhild, ho!
[Exeunt. Other warriors, who meanwhile have assembled, join them and repeat the cry. It grows dark gradually.]
SCENE VIII
Enter HAGEN and SIEGFRIED.
SIEGFRIED.
But Hagen! Why didst thou make signs to me
To leave the banquet? I shall nevermore
Sit at this table as I sit today.
Pray grant me this one day, I only ask
A just reward.
HAGEN.
Your task is not yet done.
SIEGFRIED.
Let be till morning, for a minute's worth
A year today. I still can count the words
That I have spoken to my loving bride;
Then let me have one evening with my wife.
HAGEN.
Without good reason I will ne'er disturb
A lover or a drunkard. It avails
No longer to resist! What Brunhild said
Thou'st heard, and now her wedding gayety
Thou may'st behold, for at the feast she weeps!
SIEGFRIED.
And can I dry her tears?
HAGEN.
She'll keep her word,
The threat that she has sworn, there is no doubt;
That endless shame would follow may we doubt
Still less. Dost thou not understand me now?
SIEGFRIED.
What follows them
HAGEN.
That thou must conquer her.
[GUNTHER approaches.]
SIEGFRIED.
What, I?
HAGEN.
Now listen! Gunther goes with her
Into the chamber.[5] In the Tarnhelm thou
Must follow. Quickly he demands a kiss
Ere she has raised her veil.—She grants it not.
He grapples with her.—She laughs mockingly.
He quenches, as by accident, the light—
Exclaims: So much is jest, 'tis earnest now.
It will not be on shore as on the ship!
Then shalt thou seize her and so master her
That she shall beg for mercy and for life.
And when thy part is done, then shall the king
Demand her oath to be his humblest maid,
And thou shalt vanish as thou cam'st.
GUNTHER.
Wilt thou
But do me this one service now, my friend,
I vow I'll never ask thee then for more.
HAGEN.
He must and will. The task he has begun,
How should he then not finish?
SIEGFRIED.
If I would!
For truly you demand a deed from me
That I might well refuse another time
Than on my wedding day to do for you—
How could I pray? What should I tell Kriemhild?
She has so much already to forgive,
The very ground is hot beneath my feet.
Should I repeat the misdeed once again
She never could forgive me in her life.
HAGEN.
When a young daughter from her mother parts
And leaves the room where once the cradle stood,
Into the bridal chamber she must pass,
The farewell is a long one, know my friend.
There's time enough for thee, and so—agreed!
(As SIEGFRIED refuses his hand.)
Brunhilda now is like a wounded deer,
Who'd let it with the arrow run away?
A noble hunter sends the second shaft.
The lost is ever lost, nor may return.
The haughty heiress of the Valkyries
And Norns is dying. Give the final stroke!
A happy woman laughs tomorrow morn
And only says: I had a troubled dream!
SIEGFRIED.
I know not, something warns me.
HAGEN.
Will Frau Ute
Be ready ere thou art? Nay, there's no fear,
For three times yet will she call Kriemhild back
To bless her and embrace her.
SIEGFRIED.
I refuse.
HAGEN.
What? If this moment came a messenger
In haste announcing that thy father lay
Sick unto death, would'st thou not call at once
For thy good steed? And surely would thy bride
Speed thy departure! Yet a father may,
Though old, recover. Honor wounded once
By cruel wrong, nor mended speedily,
Will never from the dead be raised again.
The honor of the king's the guiding star
Which brings or light or darkness to the knights,
As to the king himself. O woe to him
Who hesitates and robs him of one ray.
Had I thy strength I'd sue to thee no more,
But do the deed myself with pride and joy.
And yet by magic was Brunhilda won,
And magic arts must finish now the task.
Then do it! Must I kneel?
SIEGFRIED.
I like it not!
Who would have dreamed of this! And yet it lay
So very near! O nature three times blest!
In all my life no deed I've shunned like this;
Yet what thou say'st is true. So let it be.
GUNTHER.
I'll go and give my mother but a hint—
HAGEN.
No, no! No woman! We're already three
And have, I hope, no tongue to tell the tale.
Let death the fourth one in our compact be!
[Exeunt omnes.]
ACT III
Morning. Courtyard of the castle. The cathedral is at one side.
SCENE I
Enter RUMOLT and DANKWART armed.
RUMOLT.
Three dead!
DANKWART.
For yesterday it was enough,
For that was but the prelude! Now there'll be
Another tale to tell.
RUMOLT.
These Nibelungs
Are e'er prepared for death; they bring their shrouds
And each man wears both shroud and sword at once.
DANKWART.
The customs are so strange in northern lands!
For as the mountains grow more rugged still
And cheerful oaks make way for sombre firs,
Just so does man grow gloomy, till at last
He's wholly lost and but the brute remains!
First comes a race that cannot even sing,
And next another race that cannot laugh,
Then follows one that's dumb, and so it goes.
SCENE II
Music. A great procession. WULF and TRUCHS among the warriors.
RUMOLT (joining DANKWART).
Will Hagen be content?
DANKWART.
I think he will.
This is a summons, as it were, to war!
Yet he is right, for this strange princess needs
Quite other morning serenades than sings
The lark that warbles in the linden tree.
[They pass by.]
SCENE III
Enter SIEGFRIED with KRIEMHILD.
KRIEMHILD (calling attention to her attire).
Wilt thou not thank me?
SIEGFRIED.
Nay, what dost thou mean?
KRIEMHILD.
But look at me!
SIEGFRIED. That thou art living, smiling,
I give thee thanks, and that thine eyes are blue—
I love not black—
KRIEMHILD.
Thou dost but praise the Lord
In his handmaiden! Did I make myself,
Thou simple fellow? Did I choose the eyes
Thou dost admire?
SIEGFRIED.
Yet love, methinks, might dream
E'en such strange fancies! One fair morn in May
When all things glistened as they glisten now,
Two crystal dewdrops, clearer than the rest,
Were hanging on the harebells bluest spray;
And thou hast stolen them, and evermore
All heaven's in thine eyes.
KRIEMHILD.
Then rather give
Thy thanks to me that as a child I fell
So wisely. My blue eyes I might have lost
The day I only marked my temple here!
SIEGFRIED.
Oh, let me kiss the scar!
KRIEMHILD.
Thy healing art
Would be but lost. No balsam craves the wound
That's long since healed. But tell me more!
SIEGFRIED.
I thank
Thy mouth—
KRIEMHILD.
With words?
SIEGFRIED (about to embrace her).
But may I thank thee so?
KRIEMHILD (draws back).
Dost think that I invite thee?
SIEGFRIED.
With words then
For thy words! No, for sweeter yet than words,
Thy murmuring of tender secret things
My ear finds precious, as my lips thy kiss.
I thank thee for thy secret gazing forth
To see us throwing weights to win the prize.
Oh, had I dreamed of it! And for thy scorn
And mockery—
KRIEMHILD.
A maiden's pride to soothe
For tarrying, thou thinkest? Cruel friend!
I told thee in the dark! But wilt thou see
My blushes now when in the light of day
Thou tellest me the tale? My foolish blood
Flushes and pales so fast, my mother says
That I am like a rose-bush that sends forth
Red buds and white upon a single stem—
Else hadst thou never found my secret out.
For I could feel the burning of my cheeks,
When yestermorn my brother teased me so.
I saw no way but to confess to thee.
SIEGFRIED.
Then may he start the noblest stag today!
KRIEMHILD.
And may he miss him! Yes, I wish it too.—
see thou art just like my uncle, Hagen,
Who, if one lays a garment by his bed,
That one has made in secret, will not heed
Unless perchance it is too tight.
SIEGFRIED.
And why?
KRIEMHILD.
Thou only see'st God's and nature's gifts
In all that's mine, but my own handiwork,
The raiment that adorns me, thou see'st not—
Not even the fair girdle that I wear.
SIEGFRIED.
The girdle's gay, and yet I'd rather wind
About thy waist the rainbow's lovely hue;
Methinks that ye would suit each other well.
KRIEMHILD.
But bring it me at night and I will change,
Yet do not throw it down like this I wear.
'Tis but by chance I did not lose thy gift.
SIEGFRIED.
What sayest thou?
KRIEMHILD.
But for the precious stones,
It might be underneath the table still,
But fire is a thing one cannot hide.
SIEGFRIED.
Is that my gift?
KRIEMHILD.
It is.
SIEGFRIED.
But thou art dreaming!
KRIEMHILD.
I found it in the room.
SIEGFRIED.
It is thy mother's!
She must have let it fall.
KRIEMHILD.
It is not hers!
For well I know her ornaments. I thought
It had been taken from the Niblung's hoard;
To give thee joy I put it on at once.
SIEGFRIED.
I thank thee, but the girdle I know not!
KRIEMHILD (takes the girdle off).
Then for my golden girdle make thou room
Which thou concealest! I was all attired,
And only put it on to honor thee,
My mother also, for this golden one
She gave to me.
SIEGFRIED.
But that is very strange!—
'Twas lying on the floor?
KRIEMHILD.
It was.
SIEGFRIED.
And crumpled?
KRIEMHILD.
I see you know it well! The second trick
Succeeded like the first, and now I have
My task twice over!
[She starts to put the girdle on again.]
SIEGFRIED.
No! For God's sake, no!
KRIEMHILD.
Art thou in earnest?
SIEGFRIED (to himself).
'Twas with that she strove
To tie my hands.
KRIEMHILD.
Art laughing?
SIEGFRIED (to himself).
Then I raged,
And put forth all my strength.
KRIEMHILD.
Nay, thou art not?
SIEGFRIED (to himself).
I snatched at something.
KRIEMHILD.
That I'll soon believe.
SIEGFRIED (to himself).
I thrust it, when she grasped for it again,
Into my bosom, and—Now give it me!
No well is deep enough to hide it in;
With a great stone I'll sink it in the Rhine!
KRIEMHILD.
Siegfried!
SIEGFRIED.
I must have lost it—Give it me!
KRIEMHILD.
Where didst thou get this girdle?
SIEGFRIED.
Nay, this is
A dark and fearful secret; thou should'st seek
To learn no whit about it.
KRIEMHILD.
Yet thou hast
Confided one still greater, and I know
The place where Death may strike the fatal blow.
SIEGFRIED.
That I alone protect!
KRIEMHILD.
And there are two
To guard the other!
SIEGFRIED (to himself).
I was far too quick.
KRIEMHILD (covers her face).
Thou gav'st thy oath to me! Why didst thou that?
I had not even asked it.
SIEGFRIED.
Still I swear,
I ne'er have known a woman!
KRIEMHILD (holds up the girdle).
SIEGFRIED.
That was used
To bind me.
KRIEMHILD.
If a lion told the tale
'Twere less incredible!
SIEGFRIED.
And yet 'tis true.
KRIEMHILD.
This hurts me most! To such a man as thou,
The sin itself, however black it be,
Is more becoming than the cloak of lies
Wherewith he fain would hide it.
Enter GUNTHER and BRUNHILDA.
SIEGFRIED.
We must go!
They come!
KRIEMHILD.
But who! Does Brunhild know the girdle?
SIEGFRIED.
Pray hide it quickly!
KRIEMHILD.
No, I'll show it them!
SIEGFRIED.
I pray thee hide it. Then thou shalt know all.
KRIEMHILD (hiding the girdle).
So Brunhilda knows the girdle?
SIEGFRIED.
Listen then!
[Both follow the procession.]
SCENE IV
BRUNHILDA.
Was that not Kriemhild?
GUNTHER.
Yes.
BRUNHILDA.
How long does she
Tarry beside the Rhine?
GUNTHER.
She'll soon depart,
For Siegfried must go home.
BRUNHILDA.
I'll grant him leave,
And willingly dispense with his farewell.
GUNTHER.
But dost thou hate him so?
BRUNHILDA.
I cannot bear
To see thy noble sister sink so low.
GUNTHER.
She does as thou dost.
BRUNHILDA.
Nay, thou art a man!
This name which was of old to me the call
To arms, now fills my heart with joy and pride!
Yes, Gunther, I am wonderfully changed.
Thou see'st it too? There's something I might ask,
But yet I do not!
GUNTHER.
Thou'rt my noble wife!
BRUNHILDA.
'Tis sweet to hear that word, and now it seems
As strange to me that once I used to ride
To battle on my horse and hurl my spear,
As it would seem to see thee turn the spit!
I cannot bear the sight of weapons now,
And my own shield I find too heavy far;
I tried to lay it by, but had to call
My maid. I'd rather watch the spiders spin
And see the little birds that build their nests,
Than go with thee!
GUNTHER.
Yet this time thou must go!
BRUNHILDA.
And I know why. Forgive me! What I thought
Was weakness was but magnanimity,
For thou would'st not disgrace me on the ship
When I defied thee! Naught of that there dwelt
Within my heart, and therefore has the strength
That some caprice of nature gave to me
Departed from me, and returned to thee!
GUNTHER.
Since thou art gentle, then be reconciled
With Siegfried too!
BRUNHILDA.
Oh, name him not to me!
GUNTHER.
There is no reason thou shouldst hate him so.
BRUNHILDA.
And if I have none? When a king descends
To fill the humble office of a guide
And carry messages, it is indeed
As strange as if a man should take the place
Of his own horse, the saddle on his back,
Or bay and hunt in service of his hound.
But if it pleases him, what's that to me!
GUNTHER.
It was not so.
BRUNHILDA.
Still stranger 't is to see
His noble stature tow'ring high above
All other men, so that it even seems
That he has gathered all the royal crowns
Of all the world to forge them into one,
And thus to show the world for the first time
A perfect picture of true majesty.
For it is true, while still upon the earth
More crowns than one are gleaming, none is round,
And for the sun's full circle even thou
Wearest a crescent pale upon thy head.
GUNTHER.
But see. Thou hast already viewed the man
With other eyes.
BRUNHILDA.
I greeted him ere thee.
Then slay him—challenge him—win my revenge!
GUNTHER.
Brunhilda! He's the husband of my sister,
And so his blood is mine.
BRUNHILDA.
Do battle then
With him and lay him low upon the ground,
And let me see thy rightful majesty
When he is as a footstool for thy feet!
GUNTHER.
Our custom is not so.
BRUNHILDA. I will not yield;
His downfall I must see. Thou hast the heart
Of life, and he the glitter and the show.
But blow away this magic which e'er holds
The gaze of fools upon him. If Kriemhild
Casts down those eyes in shame, that now she lifts
Almost too proudly when she's by his side,
'Twill do no damage, and I promise thee
Far richer love if thou wilt do the deed.
GUNTHER.
He too is strong.
BRUNHILDA.
That he the dragon slew
And conquered Alberich, does not compare
With thy great prowess. For in thee and me
Have man and woman for eternity
Fought the last battle for supremacy.
Thou art the victor, and I ask no more
Than still to see those honors deck thy brow
Of which I was so jealous. For thou art
The strongest man of all; so cast him down
From golden clouds to earth for my delight,
And leave him naked, destitute, and bare—
Then let him live a hundred years or more.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE V
Enter FRIGGA and UTE.
UTE.
Brunhilda looks already happier
Than yesterday.
FRIGGA.
My Queen, she truly is.
UTE.
I thought it would be so.
FRIGGA.
But I did not!
Her mind is strangely altered, 'twould astound
Me not a whit now if her nature too
Should alter and her hair should change to blonde
Instead of raven tresses that of old
So richly waved beneath my golden comb.
UTE.
Thou dost not grieve, I trust?
FRIGGA.
I'm more amazed.
If this heroic woman thou hadst reared
As I have done, and knew all that I know,
Then would thy wonder be no less than mine.
UTE (turning to go back into the castle).
Do what thou canst!
FRIGGA.
I surely have done more
Than ever thou couldst dream of. How this came
I cannot tell, but if she's happy now
I am content, and of the olden time
She hath forgotten never will I tell.
SCENE VI
Enter KRIEMHILD and BRUNHILDA, hand in hand. A large number of warriors and people gather.
KRIEMHILD.
Wouldst thou not watch the combat from afar
Rather than join the fray?
BRUNHILDA.
Hast thou tried both,
That thus thou canst compare them?
KRIEMHILD.
I'd not bear
The heat of battle.
BRUNHILDA.
Then thou shouldst not try
To judge of it!—No insult I intend.
Nay, do not draw thy hand away from mine!
It may be so, and yet I thought this joy
Were but for me alone.
KRIEMHILD.
What dost thou mean?
BRUNHILDA. Surely no woman can rejoice to see
Her husband conquered.
KRIEMHILD.
Never!
BRUNHILDA. Nor deceive
Herself if in the fray he's not unhorsed,
Because his conqueror spares him.
KRIEMHILD. Surely not.
BRUNHILDA. What then!
KRIEMHILD. But I am quite secure from that?
Thou smilest?
BRUNHILDA. Over-confident art thou.
KRIEMHILD. It is my right!
BRUNHILDA. It may not come to proof,
And even a dream is sweet—so slumber on,
And I will never wake thee.
KRIEMHILD. What say'st thou?
My noble husband is too gentle far
To grieve the rulers of his royal realm,
Else had he made a sceptre long ago
Of his good sword and held it forth so far
That its great shadow covered all the earth.
For all the lands are subject unto him,
And should but one deny it, I would ask
That land from him to make a flower bed.
BRUNHILDA.
Kriemhild, what then would be my husband's place?
KRIEMHILD.
He is my brother, and the standard's his
Whereby one weighs all others. None weighs him.
BRUNHILDA.
No, for he is the standard of the world!
And as 'tis gold decides the worth of things,
So he the worth of heroes and of knights.
Thou must not contradict me, dearest child,
And in return I'll listen patiently
If thou wilt only teach me how to sew.
KRIEMHILD.
Brunhilda!
BRUNHILDA.
Nay, I did not speak in scorn;
I long to sew, and needle-work is not
My birthright like the throwing of the lance,
For which I never sought a master's aid,
More than I needed aid to stand or walk.
KRIEMHILD.
If 'tis thy wish, we can begin at once;
And since thou best enjoyest making wounds
We'll take the bodkin for embroidery.
I have a pattern!—
[She is about to show the girdle.]
No, I have it not.
BRUNHILDA.
Thou lookest on thy sister coldly now.
But 'tis not friendly to withdraw thy hand
From my fond clasp before I give it up—
At least our custom is the contrary.
And canst thou not be reconciled to know
The sceptre of thy dreams is given now
Into thy brother's hands? Thou art his sister,
And that should comfort thee. A brother's fame
Is half thine own, so thou shouldst yield to me,
Before all other women, honor's crown
That once for all could never have been thine,
For no one could have paid for it as I.
KRIEMHILD.
'Tis thus perverted nature takes revenge.
Thou didst resist love's rule as no one else,
And now this blindness is thy penalty.
BRUNHILDA.
Thou speakest of thyself and not of me!
We need not quarrel, for the whole world knows
That ere my mother bore me, 'twas my fate
The strongest knight alone should conquer me.
KRIEMHILD.
I can believe it.
BRUNHILDA.
Well?
KRIEMHILD (laughs).
BRUNHILDA.
Then thou art mad!
Perchance thou fear'st that we shall be too harsh
With all the vassals? Yet thou need'st not fear!
I plant no flower beds in conquered lands,
And only once will I claim precedence
If thou art not too proud and obstinate,—
Here at the church today and nevermore.
KRIEMHILD.
Indeed I'd never have denied it thee,
But, since my husband's honor is at stake,
I will not yield one step.
BRUNHILDA.
He will command
That thou shalt yield.
KRIEMHILD.
How dare'st thou scorn him so!
BRUNHILDA.
He made way for thy brother in my hall,
As vassals for their lord, and he refused
My proffered greeting!—That did not seem strange
While I still thought him—as he called himself—
A serving-man, a messenger to me.
But now it all seems changed.
KRIEMHILD.
And how is that?
BRUNHILDA.
I've seen a wolf slip silently away
Before a bear, and then I've seen the bear
Flee from the mountain bull. Though he's not sworn,
Yet is he still a vassal.
KRIEMHILD.
Say no more!
BRUNHILDA.
Wilt threaten me? Do not forget thyself!
I have my senses—see that thou keep thine:
There must have been some cause beneath all this.
KRIEMHILD.
There was! And if thou shouldst suspect the cause,
How thou wouldst shudder.
BRUNHILDA.
Shudder!
KRIEMHILD.
Yes, indeed!
But do not fear! I love thee even now
Too fondly. Never can I hate thee so
That I will tell the cause. Had aught like that
Befallen me, today I'd dig my grave
With my own hands. Brunhilda, never fear!
I will not make thee the most wretched soul
That draws the breath of life upon the earth!
Then keep thy pride, for pity makes me dumb.
BRUNHILDA.
Thou boastest, Kriemhild! I despise thee now!
KRIEMHILD.
My husband's concubine despises me!
BRUNHILDA.
Put her in chains! She rages! Bind her then!
KRIEMHILD (draws out the girdle).
Know'st thou this girdle?
BRUNHILDA.
Well I do. 'Tis mine.
And since I see it in a stranger's hands
It must be that 'twas stolen in the night.
KRIEMHILD.
'Twas stolen! 'Twas no thief that gave it me!
BRUNHILDA.
Who then?
KRIEMHILD.
The man who overpowered thee!
But not my brother!
BRUNHILDA.
Kriemhild!
KRIEMHILD.
Thy fierce strength
Had surely strangled Gunther, then perchance
Thou would'st have loved the dead as punishment.
My husband gave it me!
BRUNHILDA.
'Tis false!
KRIEMHILD.
'Tis true!
Now scorn him if thou canst! Wilt now consent
That I may pass before thee through the door?
(To her women.)
Now follow. She shall see me prove my rights!
[They leave and enter the cathedral.]
[Illustration: "SCHNORR VON CAROLSFELD THE QUARREL OF THE QUEENS">[
SCENE VII
BRUNHILDA.
Where are the lords of Burgundy!—Oh Frigga!
Didst thou hear that?
FRIGGA.
I heard, and I believe it.
BRUNHILDA.
Oh this is death! 'Tis true?
FRIGGA.
She said too much,
Surely too much—but this is plain to me,
That thou hast been betrayed!
BRUNHILDA.
'Tis not a lie?
FRIGGA.
'Twas Balmung's master. On the shore he stood
When died the flames.
BRUNHILDA.
Then he rejected me.
For I was on the rampart and I know
He saw me. But his heart was full of her.
FRIGGA.
That thou mayst know what thou hast lost by fraud,
I too deceived thee!
BRUNHILDA (without listening to her).
Hence the haughty calm
With which he gazed upon me!
FRIGGA.
Not alone
This narrow country, but the whole wide earth
Was meant to be thy kingdom, and to thee
The stars should tell their message. Even death
Should lose his fell dominion over thee!
BRUNHILDA.
Speak not of that!
FRIGGA.
Why not? Thy glories lost
Thou'lt not regain, but yet thou canst avenge
Thy wrongs, my child!
BRUNHILDA.
And I will have revenge!
Despised and scorned! Oh, woman, in his arms
If thou hast mocked at me a single night,
Thou shalt weep bitterly for many years!
I will—Alas! I am as weak as she.
[Throws herself on FRIGGA's bosom.]
SCENE VIII
Enter GUNTHER, HAGEN, DANKWART, RUMOLT, GERENOT, GISELHER and SIEGFRIED.
HAGEN.
What then is wrong?
BRUNHILDA (drawing herself up to her full height, to
GUNTHER).
Am I concubine?
GUNTHER.
A concubine?
BRUNHILDA.
Thy sister calls me so!
HAGEN (to FRIGGA).
What happened here?
FRIGGA.
Ye are discovered now!
We know the conqueror, and Kriemhild vows
That he was twice a victor.
HAGEN
(to GUNTHER). He has told!
[He speaks to him aside.]