[Sieglinde hangs up the arms on the stem of the ash-tree, fetches food and drink from the store-room and sets supper on the table. Involuntarily she turns her gaze on Siegmund again.
HUNDING
[Examining Siegmund's features keenly and with amaze, compares them with Sieglinde's. Aside.
How like to the woman!
In his eye as well
Gleams the guile of the serpent.
[He conceals his surprise, and turns with apparent unconcern to Siegmund.
Far, I trow,
Must thou have fared;
The man who rests here
Rode no horse:
What toilsome journey
Made thee so tired?
SIEGMUND
Through wood and meadow,
Thicket and moor,
Chased by the storm
And peril sore,
I ran by I know not what road.
I know as little
What goal it led to,
And I would gladly be told.
HUNDING [At table, inviting Siegmund to be seated.
'Tis Hunding owns
The roof and room
Which have harboured thee.
If to the westward
Thou wert to wend,
In homesteads rich
Thou wouldst find kinsmen
Who guard the honour of Hunding.
May I ask of my guest
In return to tell me his name?
[Siegmund, who has taken his seat at the table, looks thoughtfully before him. Sieglinde, who has placed herself beside Hunding and opposite Siegmund, gazes at him with evident sympathy and suspense.
