But Wotan's face was marble still, and he said only that she had turned from him, nor could he make choice for her any more.

Then since he might not choose for her, Brunnhilde made choice, if so be that her choice found favour in his eyes, and she said—

"There lives on earth, father, the race which thou thyself didst beget, and of that blood, since it is thine, can never a coward be born. And not far off is the day, when from that race shall be born the noblest hero that the world shall ever know. Him name I, of the Wolsung blood."

Then again there was anger in Wotan's eyes as he answered—

"Speak to me not of Wolsungs," said he, "for from them as from thee, and in the self-same hour, I have parted and withdrawn myself, and my love no longer goes before them, but hard after them follows and shall follow my hate. Already by it have they been hunted even to the death."

Then did Brunnhilde, that nothing should be concealed between them, tell him that by her hand was Sieglinde safe, the mighty mother of a man that should be, in whose veins ran the pure Wolsung blood, for Wolsung would be alike his father and his mother. And though Sieglinde fled in fear, yet in the appointed months would she bring forth him whom to save she fled. Moreover Sieglinde bore with her, for she herself had given it, the sword which heir father Wotan had granted Siegmund to find.

But when that sword was named, Wotan frowned and was afresh displeased, for in this had he sided against himself, and bitterness lurked in the thought.

"Broken is the blade thereof," he cried, "for against my spear which none may withstand was it shattered, and who shall make good such a shivering? So speak not to me of swords. But now thy time has come, and though I have heard thee very patiently, for the love I bore thee, yet thou seest that it is but vain to seek to sway my mind from its course. So abide the lot which has fallen to thee, nor indeed have I the power to change it, for thou thyself didst prefer the love of man to the love of Wotan, and what thou hast done abides. Thy time has come, and I must linger here with thee no longer, for already I have lingered too long. Here for the first time and the last must I turn from thee, even as from me thou hast turned. Nor may I learn what thou wishest, or knowing, may not perform. Thy woe must I see fulfilled and accomplished."

"Then name it once again," said she, "that I may hear my sentence."

And Wotan answered very solemnly—