In his mouth
He has his enemy, yet seeks him still.
SIEGFRIED.
My life drips from me like a candle spent,
And e'en my sword this murderer denies,
Though granting it would render him less vile.
For shame! Such cowardice! He fears my thumb,
For that is all that's left of me.
[He stumbles over his shield.]
My shield!
My faithful shield, I'll throw thee at the hound!
[He stoops over the shield, but cannot lift it, and rises
unsteadily once more.]
As if 'twere nailed there! E'en for this revenge
'Tis now too late!
HAGEN.
Oh, if this chatterer
Would maim his foolish tongue between his teeth
Where it has sinned so long all unreproved—
His idle tongue that is not silenced yet!—
Then would he have revenge, for that alone
Has brought him to this pass.