, and givest him
His weapons once again that thou hadst won.
He does not rage at thee and thrust them back;
He gives thee humble thanks and praises sweet
And swears with thousand oaths to be thy man.
But when, the honeyed words still in thine ear,
Thou lay'st thy weary limbs upon thy couch,
Bare and defenseless as a helpless child,
Then creeps the traitor up and murders thee,
And even while thou diest spits on thee.

GUNTHER (_to_ HAGEN).

What dost thou say to that?

HAGEN (_to_ GUNTHER).

This noble wrath
Gives me such courage that I ask our friend
If he will grant us escort yet once more.

SIEGFRIED.

With my own Nib'lungs will I go alone,
For it is by my fault this trouble comes
To ye again! Howe'er I longed to show
My bride unto my mother and to win
For the first time her undivided praise,
It may not be while yet these hypocrites
Have ovens for their bread and flowing springs
To slake their thirst! I will at once put off
My homeward journey, and I promise you
That I will take them living, and henceforth
Before my castle shall they lie in chains
And bay like hounds whene'er I come or go,
Since, as it seems, they have the souls of dogs!

[_He hastens away_.]

SCENE III

HAGEN.

He'll surely rush to her in all his rage,
And when he leaves, then I will seek her out.

GUNTHER.

I'll move in this no further.

HAGEN.

What, my King?

GUNTHER.

Bid heralds come once more and let them say
That there is peace again.

HAGEN.

It shall be done
When I have talked with Kriemhild privately
And learned the secret from her.

GUNTHER.

Hast thou then
No bowels of compassion? Thy hard heart
No pity feeleth yet?

HAGEN.

Speak plainly, lord;
I cannot understand.

GUNTHER.

He shall not die.

HAGEN.

He lives while thou commandest. If I stood
Behind him in the woods and poised my spear,
But shake thy head, and for this traitor dies
A beast.

GUNTHER.

Not traitor, no! Was it his fault
That he brought back the girdle carelessly
And Kriemhild found it? It escaped him there,
As clings an arrow in a warrior's mail
If after battle 'tis not shaken off,
And only by its rattling is it marked.
I ask you one and all: was it his fault?

HAGEN.

No! No! Who says so? Nor was he to blame
For lacking clever wits to clear himself,
For doubtless