HAGEN.

  Thou heard’st!  The trumpets!

  FRIGGA.

  And is Balmung[3] his?

  HAGEN.

  Why not?  Musicians!  Wedding music here!

  [Loud and joyful music.  Exeunt omnes.]

  SCENE VII

  The great hall.  Enter TRUCHS and WULF. Dwarfs bring treasures
  across the stage.

  TRUCHS.

  I am for Kriemhild.

  WULF.

  And for Brunhild I.

  TRUCHS.

  And why, if thou wilt tell me?

  WULF.

  Where would be
  The play of rival lances, if we all
  Should wear one color?

  TRUCHS.

  Why, I grant thee that! 
  The reason is sufficient, otherwise
  It were mere madness.

  WULF.

  Say it not so loud,
  For many heroes swear by Brunhild now.

  TRUCHS.

  They are as different as day and night.

  WULF.

  Who says they’re not?  Yet many love the
  night.

  [Points to the dwarfs.]

  What are they bringing?

  TRUCHS.

  It must be the hoard,
  The treasure of the Niblungs Siegfried won. 
  He’s called the dwarfs for escort duty here,
  And bade them bring the treasure, and I’m told
  It is the marriage portion for his bride.

  WULF.

  Uncanny are these dwarfs, with hollow backs! 
  But turn one over—­there’s a kneading trough!

  TRUCHS.

  And ever with the dragons is their home
  Within the earth and in the mountain caves.—­
  First cousins to the moles they are.

  WULF.

  But strong!

  TRUCHS.

  And clever are they too!  One need not seek
  For mandrakes[4] if one has these dwarfs for
  friends.

  WULF (pointing toward the treasure).

  He who owns that needs neither of the two.

  TRUCHS.

  I love it not.  It is an ancient saw
  That magic gold is thirstier for blood
  Than ever was the driest sponge for water;
  And, more than all, the Niblung heroes tell
  The strangest tales!

  WULF.

  Of ravens was the talk. 
  What was it then?  I heard it not aright.

  TRUCHS.

  A raven flew and lit upon the gold,
  When it was carried to the ship, and there
  He croaked till Siegfried, who could understand,
  At first stopped up his ears and would not hear,
  And whistled.  Then the precious stones he threw
  To drive the bird, and when it would not fly,
  At last in desperation cast his spear.

  WULF.

  Why, that is strange!  For Siegfried is at heart
  As gentle as he’s brave.

  [Horns are heard.]

  They call for us! 
  They’re gath’ring!  Ho, Brunhilda!