Of ravens was the talk.
What was it then? I heard it not aright.
TRUCHS.
A raven flew and lit upon the gold,
When it was carried to the ship, and there
He croaked till Siegfried, who could understand,
At first stopped up his ears and would not hear,
And whistled. Then the precious stones he threw
To drive the bird, and when it would not fly,
At last in desperation cast his spear.
WULF.
Why, that is strange! For Siegfried is at heart
As gentle as he's brave.
[Horns are heard.]
They call for us!
They're gath'ring! Ho, Brunhilda!
TRUCHS.
Kriemhild, ho!
[Exeunt. Other warriors, who meanwhile have assembled, join them and repeat the cry. It grows dark gradually.]