me quarrel with thee!" and laughing, Bruennhilde flew
on her way. Fricka's rams, scrambling over the rocks, dragging her car
behind them, landed her close to Wotan.

"So, Wotan, I must look the world over for thee!" she cried angrily.
"I have no time to chide thee, however. The hunter Hunding has called
to me for help. He is sorely pressed. Siegmund is his foe, and has
taken the magic sword from the ash tree. With that sword he is
invincible. He has carried off Hunding's wife, and I, the Goddess of
Home and Domesticity, must avenge him. I have come to warn thee not to
interfere for Siegmund. I shall help Hunding."

"I know of thy Hunding," Wotan answered, frowning. "And I know no harm
of Siegmund. It was the beautiful Spring which united the pair. Am I
to overwhelm these two with ruin because thy cruel Hunding has come to
thee for help? Spring's enchantment was upon Sieglinde and Siegmund."

"What, ye speak thus to me, Wotan? When those two had been united in
holy wedlock----?"

"I do not call so hateful a union, 'holy'," Wotan answered, sternly.

"Thy words are shameful. I have come to tell thee thou shalt take back
the magic power thou hast given to Siegmund with the sword. I know
well he is thy son, and that thou wandered upon the earth as a wolf,
leaving behind thee this sword, invincible, for thy beloved wolf-boy,
but I declare to you, I shall give you henceforth no peace till the
sword is taken from him. Hunding shall have his revenge! The conduct
of these mortals is shameful. But when Gods, such as thou, misbehave,
what can be expected of mere mortals?" Fricka sighed. "However thou
may seek to free thyself or defend thyself, I am thy eternal bride;
thou canst not get away from me, and if thou wouldst have peace, thou
wilt heed me. See to it that the wolf-man loses his life in this
encounter." Fricka, for all the world like a shrewish, scolding mortal
wife, quite overwhelmed the unhappy War-god.

"But what can I do, since I should have to fight against my own
enchantments?" Wotan urged, hoping to save his beloved wolf-son.

"Thou shalt disenchant the sword. The magic thou gavest thou canst
destroy." The quarrel was at its height, when Bruennhilde's cry could
be heard afar.

[Music:

Ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!
heia-ha! heia-ha!
ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!
heia-ha! heia-ha!
ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!
ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!
heia-ha-ha!
ho-jo-ho!]

"Ho-jo-to-ho-h