PART II

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.

Stories from the operas · 第 2 / 5 章