SIEGMUND'S LOT IS CAST
But Brunnhilde had heard Fricka laugh as she mounted her chariot, the
which boded no good thing to her father Wotan; and as she approached
him she saw that he leaned his head on his hand in great heaviness, and
was as one utterly cast down.
"Father, father, what is it?" she said. "What sorrow holds thee? Never
have I seen thee so."
Then Wotan's arm dropped, and his head sank on his bosom. "I am bound
by the fetters I have forged," said he. "All are free but I, the lord
of all. O shame, O bitter ill-hap, and worm that dies not. There is no
sorrow so heavy as mine!"
Then did Brunnhilde drop her spear and helmet in sudden alarm and
forgetfulness, and in the hope to soothe and comfort him, for never had
she seen him so. She laid loving hands upon his knees, and sat herself
at his feet, and asked him tenderly to tell her what had befallen, for
his look frightened and amazed her. So she besought him to tell her
all, for she was ever true to him, and ever had he trusted her. Then by
slow degrees Wotan aroused himself, and laid a hand on her bright hair,
which he caressed lovingly. But when he spoke his voice seemed to come
from afar, for his mind had been brooding on that which had been long
ago, and on that which time to come should bring out of what had been,
for out of the womb of the past is born what shall be. And dim and dark
was his voice, even as that on which he thought had been dim and dark,
and he spoke slowly and with many pauses, of days long dead, and of
days yet far off, the heirs of ages not yet born. But through-out he
looked earnestly into Brunnhilde's eyes, for she was his most own, and
when he looked there, he saw himself and his own will and purpose.
"In days of old," said he, "when the first heat of youth was passed,
I set myself to win the world, and all craft in bargains was mine, and,
so that I worked my will, I stooped to any falsehood. Yet never for
long could I withhold myself from love, and its sweetness ever allured
my senses and my might. But Alberich, that son of night, who inhabits
the dark places of the earth, had forsworn all love, and since he never
yielded to it, but cursed it, he won for himself the secret treasure
of the gold which abode in mid-Rhine, and by its might, for it is the
world's wealth, reached his hands about the world. Yet by guile I got
it from him, and with it I paid the giants who built me the walls of
Walhalla that are a rein and a bridle to the world. Then once again was
I safe. Yet Erda gave me words of warning about the ring, and told me
that Walhalla itself would fall, yet could tell me nought fully, till
with the spell of love upon her she spake. Yet that selfsame spell of
love between her and me gave me thyself, Brunnhilde, and thy eight
sisters of the storm. With you I thought to make Walhalla safe, and I
bade you slay and bring to be its guardians and the protection of its
walls heroes and men of might, who should guard it well. Eternal life I
breathed into them, and a mighty host uprose."
Then Brunnhilde smiled at him.
"And have we not done thy bidding?" she asked. "What cause for sadness
is here? For the defenders of Walhalla are many in multitude: all these
we have brought thee, as thou didst bid us."
Then spake Wotan again, his eyes dwelling ever on Brunnhilde.
"Moved by that spell of love, Erda told me where fear was. It is from
Alberich the end will come to the gods, their evening, their dusk,
if once again he gets the ring. While he has it not, I fear not him
nor the hosts of night that he brings with him, for well Walhalla is
guarded by heroes. But in pay for the building of Walhalla I gave it
to the giant Fafner, who guards it ever and since I gave it him, I may
not take it from him, for the bargain I made with him forbids me. Nor
must he who shall take it from him owe ought to me; he must be a free
man, who for his own need, and without help from me, shall wrest it
from Fafner. Ah, where to find him? How direct his course, yet without
aiding or protecting him? His might unaided must accomplish my wish.
Wherever I work, there see I the fruits of my work, that which my hands
have made. But he who shall take the treasure from Fafner must be free,
unfettered, no slave or creation of mine."
Then Brunnhilde started up, for she saw what was in Wotan's mind.
"It is he then, Siegmund the Wolsung, who shall do this thing!" she
cried. "Ever has he been unblessed and unhallowed of the gods."
But Wotan shook his head.
"So thought I," said he, "and with that thought in my heart, I reared
him ever to work against the gods, so that he owed nought to us.
Nothing has he but the sword he himself found. Yet, that was mine.
It was I who gave him both sword and the need by which he found
it. Scornfully Fricka unfolded that to me, piercing my soul to its
uttermost. And thus I must serve her will."
Then wild amaze seized hold on Brunnhilde.
"Then dost thou forsake Siegmund?" she cried.
At that a wild tumult of rage and despair seized on the god, for the
words of Erda, which she had told him, grew clear to him.
"The curse is fallen on me," he cried; "and though I flee from it,
it still follows me. For when I stole the ring of the Rhine-gold from
Alberich, he said that what I loved I must needs forsake, and that
him whom I trusted I must do to death. Even so it is. Behold the dusk
deepens round me, and I hope for one thing only, the end. And on the
end thinks Alberich, for the wild words of Erda, which never till now
did I fathom, grow clear to me. For she said that when the dark enemy
of love begets a son, then too is begotten the fall of the gods. And
this too has happened, for Alberich has lovelessly bought a woman's
undoing, and already the weeks of her deliverance are numbered, and the
child waxes in her womb. Yet I for all my wooing could never beget that
which I need, that free man of whom I spake. Oh! my bitterest blessing
on thy work, Alberich; already I grow wan with the approaching end;
already my godhead is but a tawdry mask. Bare thy fangs then: let thy
hate and thy hunger make meat of me!"
The words died on his lips, and despair like a wave overwhelmed him.
Then Brunnhilde nestled yet nearer to him, and the child-instinct
within her spake, if so be she might comfort him.
"Father, father," she said, "what can thy child do?"
Then Wotan laughed bitterly.
"Fight Fricka's battles," said he, "and range thyself with her
marriage vows and plighted troths. Siegmund is not the free man my
soul longs for. So range thyself with Fricka's champion, the noble
Hunding. Even so: death is decreed for Siegmund; be swift and brave to
compass that. Thou wilt need all thy boldness, my child, for he is no
coward whom Walse taught in the woods, and swift is his sword. Nor wilt
thou find a foeman who fears thee; his eye will flinch not, though he
beholds thee in all thy strength and terror."
Scarcely then could Brunnhilde believe what she seemed to hear, for
she knew that her father loved Siegmund, and that the Wolsung was dear
to his soul. Ever had he taught her to love him, for Siegmund was
dauntless of heart, and knew not what fear was.
"It cannot be," she cried, "never can I lift my arm against him!"
Then Wotan rose in wrath, for it was as if his will disobeyed him when
Brunnhilde was rebel, for indeed the maid was none other than his will.
"Thou darest? Thou darest?" he cried. "And does fear not look in thine
eyes at the thought of disobedience? Am I a mock to thee? Indeed
there will be for thee an end of mocking if thou rousest my wrath.
For there is woe to any with whom Wotan is wrath, for I walk with the
thunder at my call, and my hand holds and steers the lightning. Think
thou of that, and gave good heed. Thou knowest my will; see that thou
performest it. Siegmund is numbered with the dead, and by Brunnhilde's
hand shall that numbering be accomplished."
And he stormed forth in fury, the lightning flickering about his
path, and left Brunnhilde there.
[Illustration: Very slowly she armed herself.]
Never before had he gone from her in anger, and she sat long where he
had left her, wondering what this should mean, and what the day should
bring forth. Oftentimes in hour of war had she seen him girt about with
fury, but now it was she whom his rage threatened. Then she stooped
down, and picked up again her spear and helmet and shield which she had
laid on the ground when she spake with Wotan, and very slowly, with
the joy of war altogether gone from her heart, she armed herself. For
indeed her heart was not in this fight, and she went out to it with no
joyful war-cry as was her wont. For the battle was against her friend,
whom Wotan had ever taught her to love, and the wild Wolsung Siegmund
had all her life been dear to her. Yet must Wotan's best be obeyed.
So she turned and would have gone on her joyless errand, when suddenly
she was aware that two were approaching up the rocky height; and as
they came more nigh she saw they were none other than Siegmund and
Sieglinde. Then pity so seized on her that she was but as wax, and,
lest her will should fail utterly, she turned again quickly and went to
the cavern hard by where she had tethered her horse on the coming of
Fricka. Heavily she went to him, for the work before her was bitter and
grievous to her.