I fear—oh, I needs must shudder at the thought of a treacherous blow,
If haply offence hath been given to an unforgetting foe,
Unto some who might visit their hatred and malice on thee and me.
Stay here, dear lord: I beseech thee in love and in loyalty!”
But he said: “My wife, my belovèd, I shall be but a few days gone.
Is there any that here bears hatred to me?—I know not one.
Lo, one and all thy kinsmen unto me are gracious-willed,
And I, I have earned no guerdon save the love wherewith they be filled.”
“Ah no, but my lord, but my Siegfried, thy very death do I dread!
For I dreamed yet again for mine anguish: crashing down on thine head