The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - BestLightNovel.com
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KRIEMHILD (_laughs_).
BRUNHILDA.
Then thou art mad!
Perchance thou fear'st that we shall be too harsh With all the va.s.sals? Yet thou need'st not fear!
I plant no flower beds in conquered lands, And only once will I claim precedence If thou art not too proud and obstinate,-- Here at the church today and nevermore.
KRIEMHILD.
Indeed I'd never have denied it thee, But, since my husband's honor is at stake, I will not yield one step.
BRUNHILDA.
He will command That thou shalt yield.
KRIEMHILD.
How dare'st thou scorn him so!
BRUNHILDA.
He made way for thy brother in my hall, As va.s.sals for their lord, and he refused My proffered greeting!--That did not seem strange While I still thought him--as he called himself-- A serving-man, a messenger to me.
But now it all seems changed.
KRIEMHILD.
And how is that?
BRUNHILDA.
I've seen a wolf slip silently away Before a bear, and then I've seen the bear Flee from the mountain bull. Though he's not sworn, Yet is he still a va.s.sal.
KRIEMHILD.
Say no more!
BRUNHILDA.
Wilt threaten me? Do not forget thyself!
I have my senses--see that thou keep thine: There must have been some cause beneath all this.
KRIEMHILD.
There was! And if thou shouldst suspect the cause, How thou wouldst shudder.
BRUNHILDA.
Shudder!
KRIEMHILD.
Yes, indeed!
But do not fear! I love thee even now Too fondly. Never can I hate thee so That I will tell the cause. Had aught like that Befallen me, today I'd dig my grave With my own hands. Brunhilda, never fear!
I will not make thee the most wretched soul That draws the breath of life upon the earth!
Then keep thy pride, for pity makes me dumb.
BRUNHILDA.
Thou boastest, Kriemhild! I despise thee now!
KRIEMHILD.
My husband's concubine despises me!
BRUNHILDA.
Put her in chains! She rages! Bind her then!
KRIEMHILD (_draws out the girdle_).
Know'st thou this girdle?
BRUNHILDA.
Well I do. 'Tis mine.
And since I see it in a stranger's hands It must be that 'twas stolen in the night.
KRIEMHILD.
'Twas stolen! 'Twas no thief that gave it me!
BRUNHILDA.
Who then?
KRIEMHILD.
The man who overpowered thee!
But not my brother!
BRUNHILDA.
Kriemhild!
KRIEMHILD.
Thy fierce strength Had surely strangled Gunther, then perchance Thou would'st have loved the dead as punishment.
My husband gave it me!
