fried;
he begins to question whether the blood-brother has in very fact
been false. A returning wave of affection and admiration for the
beautiful fellow calls forth a sigh, and then the thought of Gutrune:
"Gutrune, to whom myself I freely gave him! If we punish her husband
so, with what face shall we stand before her?" At this mention of
Gutrune, a light breaks upon Bruennhilde; "Gutrune!... is the name
of the magic charm which has enchanted away from me my husband....
Terror smite her!" "If the manner of his death must offend her, let
the deed be hidden from her," Hagen soothes Gunther's scruple.
"We will to-morrow fare on a merry hunting-expedition. The noble
one will, according to his impetuous wont, go ranging ahead of
us, and meet his death by a wild boar."

The three, coming to a common determination upon the fall of Siegfried,
are calling upon the different powers to whom they refer their
deeds to hear their vows of revenge--Bruennhilde and Gunther upon
Wotan, guardian of promises, Hagen upon Alberich--who through the
happy working of this vow of vengeance will be master once more of
the Ring--when from the Hall comes pouring forth, with music and
strewing of flowers, the bridal procession. Gutrune, rose-wreathed,
is borne shoulder-high upon a gilded and begarlanded throne. At the
vision of her and the glowing Siegfried at her side, Bruennhilde
shrinks back. Hagen forces her hand into Gunther's, and this second
bridal pair falls into the train winding up the hillside to offer
the nuptial sacrifices.

III

A rocky and wooded valley opening on the Rhine. It is part of the
region over-ranged by the hunting-party of Hagen's devising. The
horns of the hunters are heard in the distance,--Siegfried's horn-call
among them, and Hagen's.

Our old acquaintances, the Rhine-daughters, rise to the surface of
the water. They have warning or scent that Siegfried is not far,
with the Ring, their stolen gold. They complain in their undulating
song of the darkness now in the deep, where of old it was light,
when the gold was there to shine for them. Notwithstanding their
loss, they are little less full of their fun than before; they
splash and frolic in the water and with their voices copy the crystal
play of the river. They pray the sun to send their way the hero
who shall give them back the gold, after which they will regard
without envy the sun's luminous eye! Siegfried's horn is heard.
Recognising it as that of the her