Chapter 48

_Enter SIEGFRIED._

SIEGFRIED.

Ho, ye knights! And hear ye not The hounds give tongue, and hark! Our youngest hunter Impatient tries his horn! To horse! Away!

HAGEN.

The day is fair!

SIEGFRIED.

And have you not been told That bears have ventured in the very stalls, And that the eagles wait before the doors And watch when they are opened for a child That may stray out?

VOLKER.

Indeed that has been known.

SIEGFRIED.

While we were courting no one thought to hunt. Then come, and we'll drive back the enemy, And hack and hew him.

HAGEN. Friend, more need have we To grind our swords and nail our spear-heads firm.

SIEGFRIED.

And why?

HAGEN.

Thou'st dallied all these last few days With honeyed words, else hadst thou well known why.

SIEGFRIED.

I am about to say farewell, ye know! Yet speak, what's toward?

HAGEN.

Danes and Saxons too Again are coming.

SIEGFRIED.

Are the princes dead, Who swore allegiance to us?

HAGEN.

Nay, not dead; They're leading on the army.

SIEGFRIED.

Lüdegast And Lüdeger, who were my prisoners, Set free without a ransom?

GUNTHER.

Yesterday Renounced they every oath.

SIEGFRIED.

Their messengers-- You surely must have hewn them limb from limb? Has every vulture had his share of them?

HAGEN.

So speakest thou?

SIEGFRIED.

Such vipers' messengers One tramples like a viper. Fiends of hell! Now feel I my first anger! I believed That often I knew hatred, but I erred; 'Twas but less love I felt. For I can hate Nothing but broken vows and treachery, Hypocrisy and all the coward's sins That seek their victim as the spider crawls Upon its hollow legs. How can it be That such brave men (for surely they were brave), Could so besmirch themselves? Oh, my dear friends, Stand not so coldly by and gaze on me As though you thought me mad, as though I knew No longer great from small! We've never known What outrage is till now. Our reckoning May we strike calmly out to the last score. Only these two are guilty.

GISELHER.

Shameful 'tis. The way they praised thee echoes in my ear. When came this messenger?

HAGEN.

'Twas even now. Didst thou not see him. He made haste to leave As soon as he had done his errand here, Nor tarried for his messenger's reward.

SIEGFRIED.

Oh, shame that you did not chastise the man For impudence! A raven would have come And plucked his eyes out, and in very scorn Have cast them forth again before his lord. That was the only answer that was due. This is no lawful feud, this is no war That right and custom sanction--'tis the chase Of evil beasts! Nay, Hagen, do not smile! The headsman's ax should be our weapon now, So that we should not soil our noble blades, And, since the ax is iron like the sword, It were a shame to use it till we find No rope would be enough to hang the dogs.

HAGEN.

Thou say'st!

SIEGFRIED.

Thou mockest at me as it seems. 'Tis strange, for trifles used to anger thee! I know thou art an older man than I, But 'tis not youth that's speaking through me now, Nor is it indignation that 'twas I Who begged thy mercy for them. Nay, I stand For the whole world. As calls a bell to prayer, So calls my tongue to vengeance every one Who stands as man amidst his fellow-men.

GUNTHER.

'Tis so.

SIEGFRIED (_to_ HAGEN).

Know'st thou betrayal? Treachery Gaze on the traitor! Smile then if thou canst. To open combat dost thou challenge him And dost o'erthrow him. But thou art too proud, If not too noble, to thrust home thy sword, And so thou set'st him free, 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_.]