And he laid himself anear her, and the tide of his joy was at flood,
As he stretched arms fain of embracing to that glory of womanhood.
Upon nought but gentle dalliance the King in that sweet hour thought,
Had the noble lady but suffered the will of love to be wrought.
But she raged with exceeding fury, that the heart of the King was stung:
He looked but for lovingkindness, and hate in his face was flung.
For she said to him, “Noble warrior, I say unto thee, refrain!
That which thine heart desireth in no wise shalt thou attain.
I still will abide a maiden, Sir King, I do thee to wit,
Till I know truth touching Siegfried.” Then the flame of his wrath was lit.