SCENE I
Enter RUMOLT and DANKWART armed.
RUMOLT.
Three dead!
DANKWART.
For yesterday it was enough,
For that was but the prelude! Now there'll be
Another tale to tell.
RUMOLT.
These Nibelungs
Are e'er prepared for death; they bring their shrouds
And each man wears both shroud and sword at once.
DANKWART.
The customs are so strange in northern lands!
For as the mountains grow more rugged still
And cheerful oaks make way for sombre firs,
Just so does man grow gloomy, till at last
He's wholly lost and but the brute remains!
First comes a race that cannot even sing,
And next another race that cannot laugh,
Then follows one that's dumb, and so it goes.