"It is poison," retorted the young man. "Thanks to the dragon's blood, I can read all your wicked heart! Wretch, take your just deserts!"
With that he dashed the poison cup to the ground, and stretched the dwarf, with one blow, dead at his feet.
"It was his life or mine at the last," he said, as he wended his way thoughtfully into the forest. In spite of his victory over the dragon, he was not elated. Instead, he was thinking how barren his life had been without friends or kindred, and how aimless it seemed even now, despite the Gold. Sighing heavily he sat down upon a log and buried his face in his hands.
"Lonely, lonely! Of all men I am most lonely!" he cried.
"Would you find a love to comfort you?" sang the clear voice of the bird over his head. "I know where you might find the fairest lady in all the world.
"On a lofty crag she sleeps,
Her guard is a flaming fire;
And he must bravely pierce the blaze
Who would win his heart's desire."
Siegfried sprang to his feet. "This quest is to my liking! Tell me more about it!" he exclaimed.
"The bride to win,
Brunhilde to wake,
Is no coward's task,
Or whom fear doth shake."
Thus sang the wood-bird again, and Siegfried listened to him joyfully.
"Show me the way to the lofty crag, I pray you, good bird!" he exclaimed. "Show me the way, that I may greet the lady or look into the face of fear!"