Then tenderly he rised her from where she knelt.
Then tenderly he rised her from where she knelt.
"Farewell," he said, "O noblest maiden, steadfast of heart Thou holy solace in which my soul ever delighted, farewell, farewell! Must I be ever far from thee and parted from, thee, and shall I never more welcome thy coming which has aye been honey to me? Never any more must our horses range together as we ride, nor will it be thy hand but anothers that gives the wine-cup to me. Many days of love have we spent together, and now leave thee, thou delight and laughter of my eyes. Yet never has bride had for her bridal so glorious a beacon as shall burn for thine, for presently at my word will the flame ring here thy rock, and spread its flambent and deadly embrace to affright the coward, and thus none but the courageous of heart shall dare to vault the fence that shall guard thee. To one only shall it be granted to do this thing, and he is the man who is free with a freedom that I, Wotan, know not."
But when Brunnhilde heard his word she lifted her face to him, and Wotan kissed her, and her eyes sought his in the last look of all. And brokenly came Wotan's speech, for he loved her; and he kissed her on her sweet mouth and on her eyes.
"Often thus have we done, Brunnhilde," said he, "and often have thine eyes been closed under my kisses, and bright they have been when I kissed them, for the light of coming battle that shone there. Often too has the song of thy mouth, ere yet thou wert of age to go forth to fight, been wine to the souls of my hero-warriors. O eyes of thine, stars to me from a starry heaven, beacons to which my heart was often lifted strong with hope, when I worked upwards from gross bewilderment of darkness to this joyful and beauteous world! Sweet physicians of my soul, for the last time heal me as my lips linger on you still. Happier than I is he who next meets them, for on me no more is shed their guiding light. Thus, even thus, I pass from thy side, and in my last kiss thy godhead steals back from thee to him who gave it birth."
And even as he spoke, and as on her eyes and mouth the god's lips were pressed, her eyes closed softly, and her mouth was shut, and softly she sank, untroubled, and like a child tired with play, into his encircling arm. And softly did Wotan take her up in his strong grasp, and softly and very tenderly he laid her on a low mossy bank that had spread its velvet beneath the shade of a whispering pine. Then looked he the last time on her peaceful and sleeping face, and raising her head he put there her helmet, and shut down the vizor, so that none could see her face. Then he looked once more, now that her face was gone from him, at the gentle swell of the bosom of maidenhood, and at all the beauty and strength of her tireless limbs; and then took her steel shield and laid it on her body, and her spear he laid lightly on her outstretched arm. Thus all his work with her was accomplished, and there remained only that he should fulfil the boon which he had granted her; and with firm step he went a little space away and called with loud voice on Loge, the flickering god of fire.
"Loge, hear!" he cried, "and arise and come hither obedient to my hand. Come thou in waves of fire, and encompass the rock where I stand with thy burning. Loge, Loge, up!"
At that three times he smote the rock, and where he smote up started the spouting flames; and with his spear he pointed to the ring where he would have the fire spring, and where he pointed there was poured out the blaze. And when all was finished, and on all sides round Brunnhilde, where she slept, ran the ring of fire, once more he raised the deathless spear aloft.
"To him alone!" he cried, "who, fears not to face my spear, is it given to break through the blaze and enter."
Then passed he unscathed through the fire, and left Brunnhilde sleeping on the rock, till he should come whom the fire affrighted not. But ever higher burned that unbridled blaze, and men awaking at dead hours that night thought that this was dawn, and dawn it was, but a dawn they dreamed not of yet. For as yet the life that lay within Sieglinde, as she hurried eastward from the wrath of Wotan, was not come to birth, and to none else but to the child that should be born was it given to face the spear of Wotan, and thus by Wotan's word there was none among all the sons of men who could face the fire that blazed where Brunnhilde lay. And on the ridge facing the dawn lay Hunding and Siegmund through the spring night stiff and cold to the stars, while the maid who had saved the Wolsung's wife and the pledge of love he had given lay beneath the stars also, but sleeping.
Thus were the loves of Siegmund and Sieglinde ended, and that which should be their fruit was not yet come to birth.