The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - LightNovelsOnl.com
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The chance may hap among them there is one Hath tried his strength with thee. There may be one Hath laid thee conquered at his very feet!
HAGEN.
Ne'er was King Gunther conquered. That I vow!
SIEGFRIED.
High stands his castle by the Rhine at Worms, And rich are all the treasures of his land; Yet o'er all heroes stands he higher still, And richer far in honors is our King.
HAGEN.
Thy hand, thou lowlander! Thou speakest well!
VOLKER.
And would it be so hard to leave this land Amidst the ocean's desert solitude-- Of thy free will to leave it, and the King To follow forth to life from night and h.e.l.l?
This land is like no other on the earth.-- A desert waste, a rockbound wilderness; All living things have fled long since in fear, And if thou lovest it, 'tis only this, That thou wast born the last of all thy race.
Above, the storms rage ever, and the sea Forever surgeth and the fiery mount In labor moaneth, while the fearful light That streameth ruddy from the firmament, As streams the blood from sacrificial stone, Is such as devils only may endure.-- To breathe the air is like to drinking blood!
BRUNHILDA.
What knowest thou of this my wilderness?
Naught have I lacked from that fair world of thine.
And if I longed for aught, that would I take.
Remember that! Brunhilda needs no gifts!
SIEGFRIED.
Did I not tell ye true? To arms! To arms!
By force must she be brought from her wild home!
And once 'tis done, then will she give thee thanks.
BRUNHILDA.
Perchance that is not true. And knowest thou The sacrifice thou askest? Thou know'st not, And no man knoweth. Harken now to me, And ask yourselves how I'll defend my rights.
With us the time is motionless; we know Nor spring nor summer nor the autumntide.
The visage of the year is e'er the same, And we within the land are changeless too.
But although nothing grows and blooms with us, As in the sunlight of your distant home, Still in our darkness ripen precious fruits That in your land ye neither sow nor reap.
In the fierce joy of battle I delight To conquer every haughty foe that comes To steal my freedom. And I have my youth, My glorious youth, and all the joy of life, Which still suffice me, and, ere these I lose, The benediction of the fates will fall Invisibly upon me. I shall be Their consecrated priestess evermore.
FRIGGA.
Is't possible? My offering sufficed?
BRUNHILDA.
The solid earth shall open 'neath my feet Revealing all that's hidden in its depths; And I shall hear the singing of the stars, And their celestial music understand.
And still another joy shall be my share, A third one, all impossible to grasp.
FRIGGA.
'Tis thou, 'tis Odin, hast unsealed her eyes!
In the deep night her ear was closed to thee-- Yet now she sees the spinning of the Norns.
BRUNHILDA (_rising to her full height, with fixed and dreaming eyes_).
There comes a morning when I do not go To hunt for bears, or find the great sea-snake That's frozen in the ice, and set him free, So that his struggles may not smite the stars.
I leave the castle early, bravely mount My faithful steed. He bears me joyfully, But suddenly I halt. Before my feet The earth has turned to air, and shuddering I wheel about. Behind me 'tis the same!
All is transparent--glowing clouds beneath, As overhead. My maidens prattle still.
I call them--Are ye blind? Do ye see naught?
We float in empty s.p.a.ce! They are amazed, They shake their heads in silence, while they press About me closer. Frigga whispers me: And has thine hour come? Ah, now I see!
The solid earth is crystal to my gaze, And what I deemed were clouds were but the web Of gold and silver threads that, glistening, Lay tangled in the depths.
FRIGGA.
Thy triumph comes!
BRUNHILDA.
An evening comes. All's changed, and lingering We sit here late together. Suddenly, As they were dead, the maidens fall; their words Are frozen on their lips. I needs must go Upon the tower, for above me rings The sep'rate music of each farthest star.
At first 'tis only music to mine ear, But with the dawn I murmur as in sleep: The King will die ere nightfall and his son Will never see the daylight, for he dies Within his mother's womb! The others say That so I told my tale, but I know naught Of how I learned it. Soon I understand, And swift the rumor flies from pole to pole And distant people flock as now to me, But not with swords to battle with me here-- Nay, humbly come they, laying by their crowns, To hear my dreams and strive to understand The meaning of my murmurings. For my eyes Can see the future, in my hands I hold The key to all the treasures of this world.
Far above all I rule, untouched by fate, And yet the fates I know. But I forget.
That even more is promised me. There roll Whole centuries away--millenniums-- I feel them not! Yet finally I ask: Where then is death? My tresses answer me-- I see them in the mirror--they are black, The snow has never touched them, and I say: This is the third gift. Death comes not to me.
[_She sinks back, and the maidens support her_.]
FRIGGA.
Why fear I still? For were it[1] Balmung's lord, She hath a s.h.i.+eld that will protect her now.
He'll fall, e'en if she loves but yet resists, And she will struggle, since her fate she knows.
BRUNHILDA (_rising again_).
I spoke! What said I?
FRIGGA.
Take thy bow, my child.
Thy dart will fly today as ne'er before, All else may wait!
BRUNHILDA (_to the knights_).
Come on!
SIEGFRIED (_to_ BRUNHILDA).
Thou swear'st To follow us if thou art overcome?
BRUNHILDA (_laughs_).
