he vision besetting her of
Siegmund torn by Hunding's dogs, against the multitude of which
his sword is of no use. At the picture painted by her delirium
of Siegmund's fall, shocked as if at the actual sight of it, she
sinks unconscious in his arms.

Having ascertained that she has not ceased to breathe, almost glad
perhaps for her of this respite from self-torment, he lets her
gently down on to the ground, and seats himself so as to make an
easy resting-place for her head.

Thus the Valkyrie finds them. At her approach, three solemn notes
are heard which intimate as if something awful and not to be
escaped--whose solemn awfulness consists in great part of the fact
that it cannot be escaped,--like Fate. "Siegmund!" she calls him,
with firm voice, "look upon me! I am that one whom in short space
you must follow!" Siegmund lifts his eyes from the sleeping face
upon which they have been fondly brooding, and beholds the shining
apparition. "Who are you, tell me, appearing to me, so beautiful
and grave?" "Only those about to die can see my face. He who beholds
me must depart from the light of life. On the field of battle I
appear to the noble alone. He who becomes aware of me, has been
singled out for my capture!" Siegmund gazes quietly and long and
inquiringly into her eyes, and: "The hero who must follow you,
whither do you take him?" "To the Father of Battles who has elected
you, I shall lead you. To Walhalla you shall follow me." "In the
hall of Walhalla shall I find none but the Father of Battles?"
"The glorious assemblage of departed heroes shall gather around
you companionably, with high and holy salutation." "Shall I in
Walhalla find Waelse, my own father?" "The Waelsung shall find his
father there." "Shall I in Walhalla be greeted gladsomely by a woman?"
"Divine wish-maidens there hold sway; the daughter of Wotan shall
trustily proffer you drink." "Unearthly fair are you; I recognise
the holy child of Wotan; but one thing tell me, you Immortal! Shall
the bride and sister accompany the brother? Shall Siegmund clasp
Sieglinde there?" "The air of earth she still must breathe. Siegmund
shall not find Sieglinde there!" The hero bends over the unconscious
woman, kisses her softly on the brow, and turns quietly again to
Bruennhilde: "Then bear my greeting to Walhalla! Greet for me Wotan,
greet for me Waelse and all the heroes; greet for me likewise the
benign wish-maidens: I will not follow you to them!"

In this stra