Come my child!
We cannot leave him lying in the dust.
KRIEMHILD. Oh that is true! The costliest and rarest
Today shall be as naught.
[She rises.]
Here, take the keys!
[She throws down keys.]
There'll be no festivals again! The silk,
The wondrous golden garments, and the linen—
Bring everything. Be sure to gather flowers—
He loved them so! And you must cut them all,
Even the little buds that have not bloomed.
For whom then should they blossom? Lay them all
Within his coffin, then my bridal robes,
And lay him softly down, and I'll do so,
[She stretches out her arms.]
And I will be his covering!
GUNTHER (to his followers).
Your oath!
Let no one harm her more.
KRIEMHILD (turns around).