And that thy sweet eyes may behold me!—with the friends thou boldest dear
Fleet thou the time all-careless: I may not tarry here.”
Then called she to mind the story—yet durst not tell him the tale—
Told erewhile unto Hagen: bitterly ’gan she bewail,
That noble Daughter of Princes, that ever she saw the light;
And brake into measureless weeping the bride of Siegfried the knight.
And she spake to her lord: “I beseech thee, O let this hunting be!
Last night was my dream a horror: two wild boars tracking thee
Held thee in chase o’er a moorland—then flowers grew suddenly red!
Cause have I for bitter weeping; for fear is mine heart as lead.