ave done of old;
But when she saw that but the lightest touch
Sufficed to drive the ardent wooer forth,
She grew enraged, and, when he tarried still,
She seized and held him with her outstretched arm
Above the Rhine. A shame it was to him,
A shame to all of us.

SIEGFRIED.

She is a witch!

HAGEN.

Chide not, but help!

SIEGFRIED.

I think that if the priest
But married them--

HAGEN.

Were that old hag not there,
The woman that attends her! All day long
She spies and questions, and she sits by her
As the embodiment of wise old age.
I fear the nurse the most.

UTE (_to_ KRIEMHILD _and_ BRUNHILDA).

Now love each other,
And may the circlet that your arms have twined
In this first joyful moment widen out
Further and further to a perfect ring
Within which you may wander, side by side,
Sharing your joys in harmony complete!
Yours is a privilege that I had not,
For what I might not say unto my lord
I had to bear in silence; but at least
I could not speak complainingly of him.

KRIEMHILD.

Let us be like two sisters.

BRUNHILDA.

For your sake
Your son and brother may imprint the seal
Upon my lips that stamps me as his maid
Before the nightfall comes, for I am still
Unblemished and untouched like some young tree,
And were it not for your sweet gentleness
Forever would I hold this shame afar.

UTE.

Thou speak'st of shame?

BRUNHILDA.

Forgive me for that word;
I speak but as I feel. And I am strange
Here in your world, and as my rugged land
Would surely terrify you, were you there,
So does your land alarm me, for I feel
That here I could not have been born at all--Yet
must I live here!--Is the sky so blue
Forever?

KRIEMHILD.

Nearly all the time 'tis blue.

BRUNHILDA.

We know not blue, unless we see blue eyes,
And those we only have with ruddy hair
And milk-white faces! Is it always still,
And does the wind blow never?

KRIEMHILD.

Sometimes storms
O'erwhelm the land, and then the day is night
With thunderpeals and lightning.

BRUNHILDA.

Would it come
Today!--'Twould be a greeting from my home!
I cannot well endure the brilliant light;
It pains me and it makes me feel so bare,
As if no garment here were thick enough!
And are those flowers--red and gold and green?

KRIEMHILD. Thou ne'er hast seen them, yet thou know'st their hu