KRIEMHILD (who observes this). Halt! Who dares—
[She hastens to the door.]
UTE.
Stop, stop! He was but gently lifted up
As thou thyself would'st wish.
KRIEMHILD.
Oh, give him back!
Else they will rob me, they will bury him
Where I shall never find him!
CHAPLAIN.
To the church!
I'll follow him, for now he's God's alone.
[Exit.]