SIEGFRIED (about to embrace her).
But may I thank thee so?
KRIEMHILD (draws back).
Dost think that I invite thee?
SIEGFRIED.
With words then
For thy words! No, for sweeter yet than words,
Thy murmuring of tender secret things
My ear finds precious, as my lips thy kiss.
I thank thee for thy secret gazing forth
To see us throwing weights to win the prize.
Oh, had I dreamed of it! And for thy scorn
And mockery—
KRIEMHILD.
A maiden's pride to soothe
For tarrying, thou thinkest? Cruel friend!
I told thee in the dark! But wilt thou see
My blushes now when in the light of day
Thou tellest me the tale? My foolish blood
Flushes and pales so fast, my mother says
That I am like a rose-bush that sends forth
Red buds and white upon a single stem—
Else hadst thou never found my secret out.
For I could feel the burning of my cheeks,
When yestermorn my brother teased me so.
I saw no way but to confess to thee.
SIEGFRIED.
Then may he start the noblest stag today!