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Updated: June 2, 2025
On that hand was a ring, and Sigurd bent back the finger and drew it off. It was Andvari's ring, the ring he had placed on her finger. And when the ring was taken off it, Brynhild sank down on her knees like one that was strengthless. Then Sigurd lifted her in his arms and carried her to where Grani, his horse, was waiting.
All this belongs to the old legendary materials with which Wagner began The Ring. So the Norns recognize that the world has no further use for them, and sink into the earth to return to the First Mother. Then the day dawns; and Siegfried and Brynhild come, and have another duet. He gives her his ring; and she gives him her horse.
He begs her therefore not to harbor a grudge against Gunnar. Brynhild remains unconvinced, and plans Sigurd's death, and threatens Gunnar with the loss of dominion and life, if he will not kill Sigurd. After some hesitation, Gunnar consents, and, calling Hogni, informs him that he must kill Sigurd, in order to obtain the treasure of the Rhinegold.
But to Agnar, not to Helmgunnar, she gave the victory. Doomed was Brynhild on the instant she went against Odin's will. Never again might she come into Asgard. A mortal woman she was now, and the Norns began to spin the thread of her mortal destiny.
She answered, "None need mock at the measure of slaughter being unfulfilled; yet heedeth not Atli your wrath or your threats; yea, he shall live longer than ye, and be a mightier man." Hogni spake and said, "Now hath come to pass the soothsaying of Brynhild; an ill work not to be atoned for."
"Aha," thought Lage, "if the king's bells are mightier than thou, then there is still hope of safety for my daughter." "Where is Brynhild, thy daughter?" asked Asathor. "I know not where she is," answered the father; and straightway he turned his eyes toward the golden cross that shone over the valley from Saint Olaf's steeple, and he called aloud on the White Christ's name.
Ah, my love shall fare as a banner in the hand of thy renown, In the arms of thy fame accomplished shall it lie when we lay us adown. O deathless fame of Sigurd! O glory of my lord! O birth of the happy Brynhild to the measureless reward!"
We are women of a breed whose racial ideal was no Helen of Troy, passed passively from male hand to male hand, as men pass gold or lead; but that Brynhild whom Segurd found, clad in helm and byrne, the warrior maid, who gave him counsel "the deepest that ever yet was given to living man," and "wrought on him to the performing of great deeds;" who, when he died, raised high the funeral pyre and lay down on it beside him, crying, "Nor shall the door swing to at the heel of him as I go in beside him!"
The Shield-maiden too remembered, but thinking that Gunnar had fairly won her, accepted her fate until Gudrun in spite and jealousy revealed the trick that had been played on her. Of the treachery of the Giukings Brynhild takes little heed; but death alone can pay for Sigurd's unconscious betrayal.
We now come upon a last relic of the tragedy of Wotan. Returning to Brynhild's mountain, we find her visited by her sister Valkyrie Valtrauta, who has witnessed Wotan's solemn preparations with terror. She repeats to Brynhild the account already given by the Norns.
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