_Enter_ HAGEN _and_ KRIEMHILD.
HAGEN.
Thou com'st
So early to the hall?
KRIEMHILD.
I could not bear
To linger in my chamber.
HAGEN.
Saw I not
Thy husband parting from thee? He was flushed,
And angry were his looks. Is there not peace
Between yourself and Siegfried once again?
Is he not kind and gentle with his bride?
Tell me, and I will talk with him.
KRIEMHILD.
Oh, no!
Did nothing else remind me of that day,
That evil day, 'twould be a dream that's past.
My lord hath spared me every unkind word.
HAGEN.
I'm glad he is so gentle.
KRIEMHILD.
I could wish
That he would blame me, yet perchance he knows
I blame myself enough!
HAGEN.
Be not too harsh!
KRIEMHILD.
I know how bitterly I wounded her!
I'll not forgive myself. I'd rather far
Have felt the hurt myself than injured her.
HAGEN.
And this it is that drove thee from thy room?
KRIEMHILD.
Oh, no! 'twould make me hide myself away!
I am so anxious for him!
HAGEN.
Dost thou fear?
KRIEMHILD.
There is another war.
HAGEN.
Yes, that is true.
KRIEMHILD.
The lying scoundrels!
HAGEN.
Be not overwrought
Nor cease thy preparations for the voyage.
Work tranquilly and do not be disturbed,
For thou canst put away his armor last.
What am I saying! For he wears no mail,
Nor doth he need to wear it.
KRIEMHILD.
Thinkest thou
HAGEN.
I well might laugh. If any other wife
So sighed, I'd say: Out of a thousand darts
But one could touch him, and that one would break.
But thee I ridicule and must advise
Let thy stray fancy sing some wiser song.
KRIEMHILD.
Thou speak'st of arrows! Arrows are the thing
That most I dread. I know an arrow's point
Needs at the most the space of my thumb nail
To penetrate, and yet it kills a man.
HAGEN.
Especially if 'tis a poisoned dart.
These savages, who broke the bulwark down,
The bulwark of our life and of the state,
Which we hold sacred even in our wars,
Would do a deed like this as soon as that.
KRIEMHILD.
Thou see'st!
HAGEN.
How can thy Siegfried come to harm?
He is secure. And if there were such shafts
That straighter flew than fly the sun's own rays,
He'd shake them off as we shake off the snow;
And this he knows, and so his confidence
Abandons him no moment in the fray.
We were not born beneath an aspen tree,
Yet we nigh tremble at the deeds he dares.
And heartily he laughs at this sometimes,
And we laugh too. For iron you may thrust
Into the fire--it changes into steel.
KRIEMHILD.
I shudder!
HAGEN.
Child, thou art but newly wed,
Or I'd rejoice at thy timidity.
KRIEMHILD.
Hast thou forgotten, or hast thou not heard
What in the ballads hath oft times been sung,
That Siegfried may be wounded in one spot?
HAGEN.
I'd quite forgotten that, although 'tis true.
I recollect, he spoke of it himself.
It seems to me he told us of a leaf,
But what it signified I cannot say.
KRIEMHILD.
It was a linden leaf.
HAGEN.
Oh yes! But say,
How could a linden leaf have done him harm?
For that's a riddle like no other one.
KRIEMHILD.
It floated down upon him on the breeze
When he was bathing in the dragon's blood,
And he is vulnerable where it fell.
HAGEN. He would have seen it if it fell in front!--
What matters it? Thou see'st thy nearest kin,
Thy brothers even, who would shield him still
Were but the shadow of a danger nigh,
Know nothing of his vulnerable spot.
What dost thou fear? Thy anguish is for naught.
KRIEMHILD.
I fear the Valkyries, for I have heard
They always choose the noblest warriors;
If they direct the dart, it ne'er can miss.
HAGEN.
But then he only needs a trusty squire.
Who shall protect his back. Think'st thou not so?
KRIEMHILD.
I think I should sleep sounder.
HAGEN.
Mark my words!
If he--thou know'st it almost happened once--
Should fall from out his skiff and in the Rhine
Should sink because his weapons drew him down
To feed the greedy fishes, I would plunge
To save our Siegfried, or else I myself
Would die with him.
KRIEMHILD.
And is thy thought so noble?
HAGEN.
So I think! And if the red cock lit
In darkest night upon his castle roof,
And he, half smothered and but half awake,
Should fail to find the way that leads to life,
I'd bear him from the flames in my own arms,
And should I not succeed, with him I'd die.
KRIEMHILD (_turns about to embrace him_).
Then must I--
HAGEN (_refusing the caress_).
Do not! But I swear, I'd do it.
Though only lately had I sworn that oath.
KRIEMHILD.
Thy kinsman he became but recently!
And dost thou really mean it? That thou would'st
Thyself?--
HAGEN.
I mean it, for he'll fight for me,
And no least one of all the thousand wonders
His sword can do, has he refused to me;
And so I'll shelter him!
KRIEMHILD.
I had not dared
To hope for that!
HAGEN.
But I must know the spot,
And thou must show it to me.
KRIEMHILD.
That is true!
Between his shoulders is it, half across.
HAGEN.
'Tis target height!
KRIEMHILD.
Oh uncle, you will not
Avenge on him the crime that's mine alone?
HAGEN.
What dost thou dream of?
KRIEMHILD. It was jealousy
That blinded me, or else her boastfulness
Would not have roused my anger.
HAGEN.
Jealousy!
KRIEMHILD.
I am ashamed! But even if that night
The blows were all, and that I will believe,
I grudge Brunhilda even blows from him.
HAGEN.
Be patient! She'll forget it.
KRIEMHILD.
Is it true
That she'll not eat or drink?
HAGEN.
She always fasts
This time of year, for 'tis the Norns' own week,
And still in Iceland 'tis a sacred time.
KRIEMHILD.
Three days have now passed by!
HAGEN.
What's that to us?
But hush! They're coming.
KRIEMHILD.
Well
HAGEN.
Were it not wise
To broider on his tunic a small cross?
Forsooth our care is needless, and he would
Deride thee if thou shouldst but tell thy fear.
Yet since I now have made myself his guard
I would not aught neglect.
KRIEMHILD.
That will I do.
[_She goes to meet_ UTE _and the Chaplain_.]