THE VALKYRIE
(_Die Walküre_)
One wild and stormy evening, a noble warrior-hero, named Siegmund,
flying weaponless and shieldless through a dark forest, sought refuge
from his pursuing enemies in the first lonely homestead he came to, and
opening the door with eager haste, unceremoniously stepped within.
He found himself in a strange-looking room; for the house was built
around a mighty ash-tree, the huge trunk of which stood as a pillar in
the centre. Finding that the room was empty, Siegmund strode forward
to the hearth, and being utterly exhausted by his late exertions and
flight, he stretched himself upon a bear-skin before the fire, and sank
into a sweet, refreshing slumber.
Soon afterwards, there came forth from an inner chamber a beautiful
but sad-looking maiden--Sieglinde, the mistress of this curious
dwelling-place--and full of surprise at seeing a stranger lying upon
the hearth, she called to him in a low tone.
The sound of the maiden's sweet voice aroused Siegmund; and
raising his head, he asked for a drink. Sieglinde quickly filled a
drinking-horn with water, and handed it to the warrior, who drank
thirstily; and then, as Siegmund gazed upon the fair beauty of his
benefactress, a thrill of delight passed through him, and he asked who
it was who thus restored him to life.
Sieglinde, through whose veins an answering thrill had also sped,
replied that she was the wife of Hunding, a warrior, in whose house
he had found shelter; and to show that he was welcome there, she
fetched him a horn of foaming mead, and begged him to drink again. When
Siegmund returned the horn, their eyes met in a long, passionate gaze;
for love had suddenly entered their hearts, and both felt that their
fates would be for ever intertwined.
As they talked together there was a quick step outside, and next
moment Hunding, the warrior, entered the room. He was of a fierce,
stern, and gloomy countenance; and as his eyes fell upon the stranger
standing beside his hearth, a dark scowl swept over his brow. Sieglinde
explained in a trembling voice that the stranger had sought shelter
in their house, and that she had given him refreshment; and then,
extending a somewhat tardy welcome to his guest, Hunding doffed his
weapons and bade his wife spread supper for them.
When the three were seated at the table, Hunding curtly demanded his
guest's name and history; and Siegmund replied sadly that he was known
to the world as "Woful," owing to his misfortunes, and that he and a
beloved twin-sister had been born to a famous hero. One evening, when
Woful was still but a child, on returning from a forest hunt with his
father, a terrible sight had met their eyes; for their home had been
burnt and laid waste by enemies, the beautiful mother lay dead, and
no trace whatever remained of the tender little maid who had been
the sunshine of their lives. Some years later, the warlike hero also
suddenly disappeared, and then his unhappy son was left to struggle as
best he could with the ill-luck that had followed him all his life.
That evening, on passing through the forest, he had rushed to the aid
of a poor maiden, whose kinsmen were seeking to wed her to a churl whom
she abhorred; but being overwhelmed and disarmed by the fierce tyrants,
he had been compelled to flee for his life and take refuge in the first
homestead he came to.
On hearing this last part of the story, Hunding's brow grew dark; and
he declared with suppressed anger that they were his kinsfolk whom
Woful had attacked, adding that he himself had been called to their
aid, but arriving too late to be of assistance, had returned to his
house, only to find the flying foe upon his own hearth.
Siegmund, seeing that he had thus unwittingly sought shelter in the
abode of an enemy, felt that his last hour had come, since he had
no weapons for his defence; but Hunding, being bound by the laws of
hospitality not to harm his guest till the morrow, declared that he was
safe for that night, but should die with morning light.
He then bade his wife prepare his evening draught, and retire for the
night; but as Sieglinde moved towards the inner chamber, she threw
a tender, sympathising glance upon the despondent Siegmund. Then
Hunding, having seen that the door was fastened, took up his weapons
with a triumphant look at his doomed guest, and also departed to the
sleeping-chamber; and Siegmund, left alone, sank upon the hearth with
troubled thoughts.
Presently, as he lay gazing into the dying embers of the fire, the door
of the inner chamber was softly opened, and the beautiful Sieglinde
came towards him in haste, declaring that he might now depart in
safety, since Hunding lay wrapped in helpless slumber, she having mixed
a narcotic with his evening draught. She added that a wonderful weapon
also lay ready to his hand; and then, returning the tender glance
bestowed upon her by Siegmund, she began to tell him a strange story.
On the day she was wedded to Hunding against her will, having been
forced to the deed by fierce ravishers who had stolen her from her home
in early childhood, a stranger, wrapped in a dark cloak, had suddenly
entered this very hall, and plunging a shining sword deep down to the
hilt in the ash-tree's stem, had declared that it possessed magic
qualities, and should become the prize of whichever hero could pluck it
forth. All the warriors at the festive board had tried to wrench the
sword from its sheath, but in vain; and Sieglinde added that she knew
by the kindly glance bestowed upon her by the stranger, whose features
had reminded her of the father she had been stolen from, that the magic
weapon was reserved for some brave hero who should one day come to
offer her his love and help, and who, her heart whispered, now stood
before her.
These words filled Siegmund with an intoxication of joy; and no longer
able to quell the love that already surged in his heart, he clasped
the beautiful maiden in his arms with rapture. But as Sieglinde gazed
upon her beloved, his features and glances suddenly reminded her of the
stranger who had plunged the sword in the tree; and on learning from
Siegmund that his father had been known as Volsung, she exclaimed that
that was the name of her own father, whose features had been reflected
in those of the stranger who had appeared on her wedding morn.
Siegmund, quickly realising that it was his long-lost twin-sister who
stood before him, and whose love he had won, embraced her with even
greater joy than before; and knowing now that his mysterious father,
Volsung, had placed the sword in the ash-tree to be plucked thence
by his own son only, he hastened to the mighty tree and triumphantly
drew the weapon forth, announcing its name to be "Needful." Then the
enraptured lovers, hand locked in hand, rushed forth joyously into
the sweet spring night; and hastening with glad footsteps through
the moonlit forest, they sought a place of refuge from the vengeance
of Hunding, who, they knew, would follow them on awakening from the
effects of the narcotic.
Now Siegmund and Sieglinde, though they knew it not, were in reality
the twin-children of the great god Wotan, who, in the guise of the hero
Volsung, had wooed and won a beautiful maiden of the earth; and from
the first naught but misery had fallen to the lot of the ill-fated pair.
As soon as Wotan's celestial wife, Fricka, the goddess of Marriage
and upholder of conjugal bonds, knew of the unholy love of Siegmund
and Sieglinde, and of their flight from Hunding, she was filled with
indignation; and summoning her roving and inconstant husband, she
poured forth angry reproaches upon him for countenancing this violation
of her laws. She demanded that the recreant lovers should be overtaken
and punished, and that Siegmund's magic sword should be broken;
and knowing that Wotan had already despatched one of his attendant
war-maidens, the beautiful Valkyrie, Brünhilde, to assist his son
against the pursuing Hunding, she bade him instantly recall her.
It was in vain that Wotan, who really loved his earth-born children,
pleaded for the unhappy lovers; and the angry goddess gave him no peace
until he promised to cause Siegmund to be vanquished by his avenger.
So the great god reluctantly called back the Valkyrie, Brünhilde; and
when the beautiful war-maiden appeared before him, clad in dazzling
mail, fully armed and mounted on a fiery celestial steed, he sadly
commanded her to give assistance to the wronged Hunding, instead of to
Siegmund, as he had at first bade her. Brünhilde, who knew that Wotan
still longed to help his son, went forth upon her mission with a heavy
heart, and soon came up with the fleeing lovers.
After wandering onwards for many days, only stopping for necessary
rest, Siegmund and his stolen bride had at length come to a wild,
rocky height; but even here they did not feel safe, for they knew that
Hunding was quickly following on their track. But Sieglinde was so much
exhausted by her long journey that she could go no farther; and sinking
upon a sheltering ledge, she presently fell into a troubled sleep.
As Siegmund watched beside the sleeping form of his beloved one, he
suddenly beheld the dazzling figure of the beautiful war-maiden,
Brünhilde; and knowing that the Valkyries only appeared to heroes
doomed to fall in battle, he asked in trembling tones whom she sought.
Brünhilde answered solemnly that she had come to bear him, Siegmund
the Volsung, hence with her to Valhalla, at the command of Wotan; but
when Siegmund eagerly asked if Sieglinde would accompany him there, she
replied that the maiden must remain on earth.
Then Siegmund passionately declared that he would forego all the
celestial glories of Valhalla if he might not share them with his
beloved one; adding that with his magic sword, Needful, he would gain
the victory in the approaching fight, and thus defeat Wotan of his prey.
Now when Brünhilde saw what a passionate love it was that bound these
two young hearts, she was filled with tender pity; and at last, after
a short struggle with herself, she resolved to disobey the command of
Wotan, and give her assistance to the lovers, instead of to their enemy.
Presently the young warrior heard the sound of horn-calls coming nearer
and nearer; and soon afterwards Hunding came in sight. A violent
thunderstorm now began to rage, and the sombre gloom of the wild scene
was constantly illumined by the awful glare of lightning; but, heedless
of the warring elements, Siegmund dashed forward to meet the vengeful
Hunding as he appeared on the craggy height, and quickly clashed swords
with him.
The noise of the storm awakened Sieglinde; and she uttered a shriek of
terror as a brilliant flash of lightning revealed to her the furiously
fighting forms of Hunding and Siegmund, with the Valkyrie, Brünhilde,
soaring defensively over the latter, guarding him with her shield.
But at this moment there was an unexpected interruption; for Wotan
himself, enraged by the Valkyrie's disobedience to his will, and bound
by his oath to his celestial spouse, suddenly swooped down upon the
combatants, with anger in his mien.
Terrified at this awful apparition of the all-powerful god, Brünhilde
retreated before him; and as she did so, Siegmund's magic sword broke
upon the outstretched mighty spear of Wotan, leaving him thus the
prey of the triumphant Hunding, who quickly buried his weapon in the
defenceless breast of his enemy.
As her vanquished lover uttered his last dying gasp, Sieglinde sank
senseless to the ground; but Brünhilde snatched her up instantly, and
mounting her fiery steed that stood waiting near, she rode wildly away
with her prize.
For a few moments Wotan gazed down sorrowfully upon the prostrate
form of the hero-son he would so gladly have saved; and then, in a
terrible outburst of wrath and grief, he killed the conquering Hunding,
and disappeared on the wings of the storm in pursuit of the flying
Brünhilde.
The beautiful war-maiden rode at desperate speed; but, after travelling
an immense distance, her noble steed at last fell exhausted at the top
of a high rocky mountain. Upon the summit of this mountain, a band of
mounted Valkyries in full armour had gathered to rest on their way to
Valhalla, each with the dead body of a fallen warrior lying across her
saddle-bag; and to these war-maidens, her sisters, Brünhilde hastened
to beg assistance, bearing Sieglinde with her.
She quickly told them her story, and begged for a horse to continue her
flight; but when the Valkyries knew that she was flying from the wrath
of their beloved All-Father, they refused to give her aid, fearing lest
Wotan's anger should fall upon them also, if they protected one who had
disobeyed him.
Seeing that she could thus no longer protect the now conscious
Sieglinde, Brünhilde bade her fly onward alone, towards a certain
forest ever shunned by Wotan; and when the poor maiden declared
that she no longer desired to live, the inspired Valkyrie earnestly
besought her not to despair, since she should become the mother of the
greatest hero of the world, who should be called Siegfried. At the same
time, she placed in her hands the broken pieces of Siegmund's magic
sword, which she had seized as he fell to the ground; and she desired
Sieglinde to keep the fragments for her son, who should forge them once
more into a weapon of wondrous power.
Comforted, and filled with joy on hearing this prophecy, Sieglinde, no
longer despairing, was eager to save herself from harm; and bestowing
a grateful blessing upon her self-sacrificing protector, she quickly
rushed away towards the gloomy forest indicated.
Amidst appalling thunder and lightning Wotan now appeared upon the
mountain top; and as Brünhilde stood humbly before him, with downcast
mien, the angry god declared that for her disobedience to him, she
should be a Valkyrie no longer, and that, deprived of divinity and the
sweet joys of Valhalla, she should be doomed to lie in an enchanted
sleep, for the first passing churl to awaken and call his own.
On hearing her terrible sentence, Brünhilde sank upon her knees; and
with a despairing cry, she implored the All-Father not to leave her to
become the prey of any mere braggart, but to place a circle of fire
around the rock upon which she must lie in charmed sleep, that she
might at least not be awakened by any but a hero valiant enough to
brave the flames to gain her.
For some time Wotan refused to grant her plea; but at last he yielded,
overcome by the tenderness he still felt for her, for Brünhilde had
ever been the best beloved of all his war-maidens. He declared that he
would call forth such fiery flames to protect her slumbers as should
scare away all timid cravens, and that only one who had never known
fear should awaken her--the greatest hero of the world; and Brünhilde
was filled with joy and gratitude, knowing that this mighty feat was
reserved for the yet unborn hero-son of Siegmund and Sieglinde.
Wotan now gently kissed the beautiful Valkyrie upon both eyes, which
instantly closed in slumber; and bearing her tenderly in his arms, he
laid her upon a low, moss-covered rock covering her graceful mail-clad
form with the long shield she had borne so bravely. Then, striking
the rock three times with his spear, he uttered an invocation to the
god Loki to come to his aid, and out leapt a stream of fiery flames,
which quickly surrounded the mountain top; and with a last long look
of affection at the sleeping maiden, the god returned to his celestial
abode.
But the fair Brünhilde lay wrapped in peaceful slumber upon her
fire-encircled couch; and though many bold travellers longed to possess
the lovely maiden, none were found willing to brave the scorching
flames--a deed that awaited the coming of the world's greatest hero,
Siegfried the Fearless.