her weapons ("How heavy they have grown!” she says) and prepares to warn Siegmund he must die. (No warrior could look upon a Valkyrie save in the hour of his death; therefore no living being had ever seen one.) As sounds of the approaching steps of panting people are heard she retires amongst the rocks; Siegmund and Sieglinda stagger in, the woman fainting.  She has sinned and is overwhelmed with terror; he cannot comfort her; she faints, then sleeps—­the Valkyrie having thrown a spell on her.  Siegmund bends over her; slowly Bruennhilda advances and calls, “Siegmund!  I come to call thee hence”; he raises his head, sees her, and knows his fate.  This is the final crushing blow; the Volsung had always deserted him; but he had found the magic sword and thought the promised help would not fail him in his worst need. (Truly the gods treat us as toys to be broken at pleasure!) He refuses to go, and speaks blasphemy of the high gods; Bruennhilda is horrified:  here she is going to take him to Valhalla to feast on delights for ever—­and he scorns her.  He ridicules Valhalla and Wotan and the serving-maidens:  he wonders who the Valkyrie is, so beautiful and cold and stern.  The scene is one of the fullest dramatic intensity:  at last Siegmund asks whether, if he goes to Valhalla, he will find his wife there.  “Siegmund will see Sieglinda no more,” is the answer:  Siegmund for the moment is crushed, but again rebels, and takes his sword to kill first Sieglinda and then himself.  Bruennhilda is overcome with admiration:  this, at any rate, this love she can understand; she tells him to prepare to fight Hunding and she will help him.

The next scene is unmatched, even in Wagner, for its terror and the swiftness with which the climax comes on.  Clouds gather; Hunding’s horn is heard and his voice; Siegmund leaves Sieglinda and goes off cheerfully and confidently to meet his foe.  Thicker gather the clouds; thunder peals and lightnings flash; the antagonists are heard calling as they seek each other in the darkness; Sieglinda speaks in her dreams; as she awakes, Hunding and Siegmund are seen in the dim light high up amongst the rocks; Bruennhilda encourages Siegmund, guarding him with her spear; he is about to strike Hunding down; there is an angry red glare, and Wotan shatters the sword with his spear; Hunding runs his spear through Siegmund; Sieglinda shrieks and falls insensible to the ground.  Slowly the red light fades; “Go, tell Fricka I have sent you,” Wotan says bitterly, and at his nod Hunding falls dead; Bruennhilda has run round, picked up the shards of the Sword, and, gathering Sieglinda in her arms, rushed away.  There is a moment of suspense; the tragedy is accomplished; and now Wotan must punish Bruennhilda for disobeying his commands; and amidst thunders and lightnings, in flaming wrath, he rides off, and the curtain falls.