o the top of one of the cloudy summits, and the clash
of their arms resounds in the mists. A sudden gleam of light shows
Bruennhilde hovering over Siegmund, and protecting him with her shield.
As he prepares himself to deal a deadly thrust at Hunding, the angry
Wotan appears in a storm-cloud and interposes his spear. Siegmund's
sword is shivered to pieces. Hunding pierces his disarmed enemy, and
he falls mortally wounded. Bruennhilde lifts the insensible Sieglinde
upon her steed and rides away with her. Wotan, leaning upon his spear,
gazes sorrowfully at the dying Volsung, and then turning to Hunding,
so overcomes him with his contemptuous glance that he falls dead at
his feet. "But Bruennhilde, woe to the traitor. Punishment dire is due
to her treason. To horse, then. Let vengeance speed swiftly." And
mounting his steed he disappears amid thunder and lightning.

The last act opens in a rocky glen filled with the Valkyres calling to
each other from summit to summit with wild cries as they come riding
through the clouds after the combat, bearing the dead bodies of the
warriors on their saddles. The scene is preluded with an orchestral
number, well known in the concert-room as the "Ride of the Valkyres,"
which is based upon two motives, the Valkyre's call and the Valkyre
melody. In picturesque description of the rush and dash of steeds,
amid which are heard the wild cries of the sisters, "The Ride" is one
of the most powerful numbers ever written. Bruennhilde arrives among
the exultant throng in tears, bearing Sieglinde with her. She gives
her the fragments of Siegmund's sword, and appeals to the other
Valkyres to save her. She bids Sieglinde live, for "thou art to give
birth to a Volsung," and to keep the fragments of the sword. "He that
once brandishes the sword, newly welded, let him be named Siegfried,
the winner of victory." Wotan's voice is now heard angrily shouting
through the storm-clouds, and calling upon Bruennhilde, who vainly
seeks to conceal herself among her sisters. He summons her forth from
the group, and she comes forward meekly but firmly and awaits her
punishment. He taxes her with violating his commands; to which she
replies, "I obeyed not thy order, but thy secret wish." The answer
does not avail, and he condemns her to sleep by the wayside, the
victim of the first who passes. She passionately pleads for protection
against dishonor, and the god consents. Placing her upon a rocky couch
and kissing her