“And see, O sisters, if Wotan draws nigh!” she begged.
“A thunder-cloud approaches,” called Ortlinde, one of the Walküres, from her high pinnacle of rock.
“The clouds grow thicker,” cried Waltraute. “Our father comes,” they exclaimed in unison.
“Shelter this woman,” begged Brünnhilde. For she knew that Wotan, in his rage, might kill the wife of the warrior whom he had overthrown. But the maidens feared their father’s anger, and would give no aid. So, at last, Brünnhilde told Sieglinde to fly and hide herself in the forest, and that she, the Walküre, would remain behind to bear the brunt of Wotan’s anger. Brünnhilde drew from under her shield the splinters of Nothung, which she had picked up on the battle-field, and gave them with words of kindness and comfort to Sieglinde, who, murmuring tender thanks, sped away into the woods and was gone.
Then even Brünnhilde’s brave heart began to fail her. A great storm had arisen, and amid the crash of thunder came Wotan’s voice calling her name in tones of anger. Trembling, she took her place in the centre of the group of maidens, concealed from view by them.
Surrounded by red light came Wotan, having left his war-steed snorting in the wood.
“Where is Brünnhilde?” he demanded. But the Walküres, in trembling tones, merely asked the cause of his anger. In growing rage, Wotan commanded Brünnhilde to come forward and receive her punishment, reproaching her in scornful words for hiding among her sisters.
Quietly the Walküre came out from among them, and stood before him. She was quite ready to receive her sentence, whatever it might be, and bent her head to listen to her father’s words.
Her punishment, Wotan told her, was to be this: She was to be laid in helpless sleep, at the mercy of the first passer-by who might choose to awaken her. Him she must follow as his wife, for, when she was awakened from her sleep, she would be a woman—a goddess no longer.
Heart-broken, Brünnhilde sank to the ground with a cry. To be made mortal seemed to her the most terrible punishment possible. And it seemed so to the other Walküres as well. They besought the King God to have mercy on their sister, but he was firm.