"The Valkyries go where they will," said he, "and I have no power over them."
"So that was thy thought!" said Fricka. "It shall not be so. Thy will directs them; let it direct them that they turn not to Siegmund."
Then Wotan clenched his hands together, for this way and that was he torn. On the one side stood Siegmund his son, whom he must needs aid for the sake of the promise he had given with the sword; on the other, Fricka his wife. And in his agony he cried aloud—
"How can I slay him? It was he who found my sword."
"Let it be to him only a sword then," said Fricka, "and not the sword of Wotan, or break it in his hand, so that Hunding has him defenceless. O, Wotan," and as she spoke he knew in his heart her nobility and uprightness, for all that she was cold and hard, "O, Wotan, thou lovest me not, and I know it, yet shield my honour for never have I brought dishonour on thine. I ever upheld the marriage vow, and how would the sons of men laugh, and how would the glory of the gods be diminished, should thy daughter Brunnhilde not uphold it this day. How would lawlessness and unhallowed lust be master among men. By Siegmund's death alone is my honour upheld, for he has sinned against me. So swear to it, Wotan."
Even as she spoke Wotan heard again the joyful war-cry of Brunnhilde, who, supposing that his strife with Fricka was over, was coming nigh to where they stood, and he remembered in his heart how so short time ago he had bade her warn and shelter Siegmund. Yet he could in nought gainsay his wife, and in sorrow find heaviness he cast himself down on the rocky seat where he had sat with his maiden. And his voice came hollow and broken, like an echo buffeted against rocks.
"I give thee mine oath!" said he.