The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - LightNovelsOnl.com
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GISELHER.
Why so? Thou hadst no better way to prove What we have gained in winning thy right arm, For truly are the Princes stalwart men!
SIEGFRIED.
It may be! Yet had I not done the deed, Perhaps some bird had flown and spread abroad The rumor that the Danes had slain me there, And I might ask how Kriemhild heard the tale.
GISELHER.
But as it is they help thy cause enough!
That one can take good metal and alloy And beat them into trumpets smooth and round, I long have known. But that one could shape men In such a way I knew not, but these two Show us the work of such a smith as thou.
They praised thee--If thou hadst been there to hear, Thy cheeks would still flame scarlet! Yet 'twas not With measured praise, as men will praise their foe, Thinking to lessen thus the burning shame Of their own downfall. No, 'twas heartfelt praise.
But you should hear Kriemhilda tell the tale.
Unweariedly she asked them o'er and o'er.-- She's coming now.
SCENE III
_Enter_ UTE _and_ KRIEMHILD.
SIEGFRIED.
I pray you!
GISELHER.
What's thy wish?
SIEGFRIED.
I never longed to have my father by, That he might teach me how to bear my arms, But ah! today I need my mother so, That I might ask her how to use my tongue.
GISELHER.
Give me thy hand, since thou art shamefaced too.
They call me here "the child." Now let them see A "child" may lead a lion!
[_He leads_ SIEGFRIED _to the women_.]
'Tis the knight From Netherland!
SIEGFRIED.
Fair ladies, do not fear, Because I've come alone.
UTE.
Brave Siegfried, no!
We do not fear, for thou art not the man Who's left alone when all but he are dead, To bear his tale, a messenger of woe.
Thou comest to announce a daughter dear, And Kriemhild hath a sister.
SIEGFRIED.
So it is, My Queen!
GISELHER.
So is it! Nothing more? And scarce Those few words could he utter! Dost thou grudge The king his bride? Or hast thou lamed thy tongue In battle? That was never known before.
But no, for thou could'st use it fast enough To tell me of Brunhilda's dark brown eyes And raven tresses.
SIEGFRIED.
Prithee, say not so!
GISELHER.
How hotly he denies it! See him raise On high three fingers, swearing that he loves Blue eyes--light hair!
UTE.
This is an arrant rogue!
He is nor boy nor man, sapling nor tree.
And long hath he outgrown his mother's rod, Nor ever hath he felt his father's whip.
Ungoverned is he as a yearling colt, That's never known the bridle or the whip.
We must forgive or punish him!
SIEGFRIED.
'Twere not So easy as you think! To break a colt Is difficult, and many limp away Ashamed, and cannot mount him!
UTE.
Then once more He 'scapes his punishment!
GISELHER.
As a reward, I'll tell a secret to thee.
KRIEMHILD.
Giselher!
GISELHER.
What hast thou to conceal? Be not afraid!
I do not know thy secret, nor will blow The ashes from thy embers.--Never fear!
UTE.
