Who, if one lays a garment by his bed,
That one has made in secret, will not heed
Unless perchance it is too tight.

SIEGFRIED.

And why?

KRIEMHILD.

Thou only see'st God's and nature's gifts
In all that's mine, but my own handiwork,
The raiment that adorns me, thou see'st not--
Not even the fair girdle that I wear.

SIEGFRIED.

The girdle's gay, and yet I'd rather wind
About thy waist the rainbow's lovely hue;
Methinks that ye would suit each other well.

KRIEMHILD.

But bring it me at night and I will change,
Yet do not throw it down like this I wear.
'Tis but by chance I did not lose thy gift.

SIEGFRIED.

What sayest thou?

KRIEMHILD.

But for the precious stones,
It might be underneath the table still,
But fire is a thing one cannot hide.

SIEGFRIED.

Is that my gift?

KRIEMHILD.

It is.

SIEGFRIED.

But thou art dreaming!

KRIEMHILD.

I found it in the room.

SIEGFRIED.

It is thy mother's!
She must have let it fall.

KRIEMHILD.

It is not hers!
For well I know her ornaments. I thought
It had been taken from the Niblung's hoard;
To give thee joy I put it on at once.

SIEGFRIED.

I thank thee, but the girdle I know not!

KRIEMHILD (_takes the girdle off_).

Then for my golden girdle make thou room
Which thou concealest! I was all attired,
And only put it on to honor thee,
My mother also, for this golden one
She gave to me.

SIEGFRIED.

But that is very strange!--
'Twas lying on the floor?

KRIEMHILD.

It was.

SIEGFRIED.

And crumpled?

KRIEMHILD.

I see you know it well! The second trick
Succeeded like the first, and now I have
My task twice over!

[_She starts to put the girdle on again._]

SIEGFRIED.

No! For God's sake, no!

KRIEMHILD.

Art thou in earnest?

SIEGFRIED (_to himself_).

'Twas with that she strove
To tie my hands.

KRIEMHILD.

Art laughing?

SIEGFRIED (_to himself_).

Then I raged,
And put forth all my strength.

KRIEMHILD.

Nay, thou art not?

SIEGFRIED (_to himself_).

I snatched at something.

KRIEMHILD.

That I'll soon believe.

SIEGFRIED (_to himself_).

I thrust it, when she grasped for it again,
Into my bosom, and--Now give it me!
No well is deep enough to hide it in;
With a great stone I'll sink it in the Rhine!

KRIEMHILD.