"Well, answer us!" Fafner shouted, making a motion to take the Goddess

and flee. Fricka and Freia shrieked with fright. "What is the secret

of this ring?" Fafner asked again.

"That whoever shall make a ring out of the Rheingold shall rule the

universe. Alberich has already forsworn love, and is already having

the ring made."

"We shall take the Goddess Freia," Fafner cried, "and give ye till

evening to decide among yourselves. If ye have not the gold by that

time the Goddess is ours forever." So saying he leaped toward Freia,

grasped her and fled over mountain and valley, while the Goddess

Fricka cried out wildly, and Freia echoed her shrieks. All looked

anxiously toward Wotan.

"How darkly Wotan broods," Loge thought, while a great gloom settled

upon all. A pale mist gradually enfolded all the Gods, as they stood

uncertain and troubled. Until that moment they had appeared young and

handsome, but now they looked at each other in fright.

"What aileth thee?" each asked of the other. "Do the mists trick us?"

Each stared at the other in horror, because all were growing old,

suddenly.

"My hammer drops from my hand," Donner muttered, weakly.

"My heart stands still," Froh sighed faintly.

"Ah! Know ye not the fate that has overtaken you?" cried Loge. "Ye

have not to-day eaten of Freia's magic apples; the Apples of Life.

Without them ye must grow old and die, ye well know. Without Freia to

tend the fruit, it must wither."

Reminded of what they had forgotten, the Gods started up in terror.

"'Tis true, 'tis true! We are fainting, dying! What is to be done?"

"Get the gold quickly from Alberich, and redeem the Goddess," the

tricky Spirit of Flame answered with decision. "That is why they have

taken Freia. Well those Giants know that without her and her apples ye

must die; thus they will overcome the good of the Gods. Ye must redeem

her before the evening comes, or ye all must die."

"Up, Loge!" Wotan cried desperately. "Down to Nibelheim with me. The

gold must be ours. Oh, death! stay thy hand an hour till We can buy

back our youth and everlasting life!" Loge interrupted him, narrowly

eyeing him:

"The gold belongs to the Rhein-daughters. It should be returned to

them."

"Cease thy babbling," Wotan shouted, "and get thee down to Nibelheim."

"Shall we not go through the river Rhein?" Loge craftily asked.

"Get thee through that sulphurous cleft," Wotan answered, pointing to

the deep fissure in the rock. "Swing thyself down and I will follow

thee." He no sooner ceased to speak than Loge swung himself into the

black abyss, and a frightful, sulphurous vapour arose from the

opening.

"Await us here till evening," Wotan charged the Gods and Fricka, and

he in turn disappeared.

As Wotan followed Loge into the abyss, such clouds of vapour arose as

to hide the Gods completely, and as Fricka called "farewell" through

the mist the earth began slowly to rise, showing the descent of Wotan

and Loge. Their passage through the earth was long and filled with

astounding sights. It grew blacker and blacker, but after a time they

saw the far-off glow of forge-fires, and heard the sound of hammers

ringing upon anvils. These things, too, passed them by, and on a

sudden, they found themselves in the midst of a large open space,

formed by a cavern in the rock.

_Scene III_

As they arrived at that place, they heard groans and moans, and

shrieks and wrangling. Presently they saw Alberich bring from a cleft

of the rock a wretched Mime, one of the inhabitants of Nibelheim.

"Ah, thou mischievous imp! I'll pinch thee well if thou forgest me not

the thing I commanded thee," Alberich shouted, at the same time

pinching and poking the miserable little fellow.

"I've finished thy work," the Nibelung screamed, trying to flee from

Alberich's blows.

"Then where is it?" the wretch demanded; as he wrenched open the

Mime's hand in which was concealed a piece of metal called a Tarnhelm.

"Ah, ha! Now thou shalt writhe," Alberich shouted, and setting the

Tarnhelm upon his head he immediately became invisible. Unseen

himself, he pinched and cuffed the Mime so as to make the tortured

little imp cry for mercy.

"I cannot see you," the Mime screamed piteously, trying to dodge the

blows.

"No matter, I am somewhere about," Alberich answered, giving him

another pinch. Then taking the Tarnhelm from his head he stood there

in his own shape.

"Now," shouted the imp of darkness, "Now I can punish thee properly!

If thy work is not well done I can torment thee to death. With this

magic helmet and my ring I can make the whole world smart if I choose.

And I shall choose," he added, reassuringly. "Wait till I get at those

fine Gods up there." He disappeared chuckling, into a crack in the

rock while the Mime crouched down in pain.

Alberich had no sooner gone, than Loge and Wotan came from the

darkness.

"What is wrong with thee, thou merry dwarf?" Wotan asked.

"Only leave me to myself," the Mime sobbed, moving his sore body.

"So we shall, but we shall do more than that; we shall help thee. Only

tell us what ye forged for Alberich which gave him such power over

ye!"

"Oh, it was a ring, made from the Rheingold. Now he has power over all

the Nibelheim, and he will kill us. Till this happened, we wrought at

the forge beautiful trinkets for our women-folks and laughed gaily all

day, but now he has made us his slaves who must dig precious metals

from the earth and turn them into what he commands. There is no more

happiness for us. I thought to keep the Tarnhelm he bade me make, and

learn its power, but I had to give it up." He went on whining and

moaning.

"Ah, thy case is a hard one! but we shall help thee." While Wotan was

thinking what they should do, Alberich was heard returning. He was

cracking his whip and driving a great host of Nibelungs before him

from the cleft of the rock. All were staggering under loads of

valuable metals; gold and silver, and precious stones.

"Hi, there! Move thy fastest," he shouted, lashing them as he drove

them before him. He had taken his Tarnhelm off and hung it at his

girdle: turning, he saw Wotan and Loge.

"Hey! Who are these?" he cried. "Nibelungs, be off to your digging;

and mind ye bring me treasure worth having." Lashing them soundly, and

raising his magic ring to his lips, the Nibelungen shrunk away in

affright and disappeared into the clefts of the rock.

"Ah, ye are a precious possession," he said to the ring. "Whoever

fails to obey thy Lord, feels thy power." The little black villain

looked gloatingly upon it; then turning to Wotan and Loge he asked:

"What are ye doing in my domain?"

"We have heard of thy power, great sir, and came to see it," Loge

replied.

"It were nearer the truth if ye come to envy me, and to spy out my

possessions," he answered, but Loge laughed as he retorted:

"What! you miserable imp of darkness! You speak thus to me! Do you not

remember me? I was once of thy realm. Pray tell me what you would do

in your underground caverns with your forges and smithies if I were to

deny you my flame? How, then, would you forge your precious rings?"

Loge laughed mockingly.

"You are that false rogue, the Spirit of Flame, then?" Alberich said.

"Never mind calling names; you can't get on without me, you know that

well enough," Loge answered, grinning.

"What good can thy treasures do thee here in this perpetual night?"

Wotan asked.

"My gold shall buy me even the Gods, themselves." Alberich replied;

"and though I forswore love, I am likely to get even that; my gold

shall buy it for me."

"What prevents some one stealing thy magic ring? Thou hast no friend

in all the world, so when you sleep who shall guard the ring?"

"My own wit! What, think you I am a fool? Let us see! By my own

cunning I have had fashioned this Tarnhelm which makes me invisible to

all. Then who shall find me when I sleep?" he demanded triumphantly.

Loge smiled contemptuously.

"Doubtless thou wouldst be safe enough--if such magic could be," he

answered, incredulously, "but----"

"You doubt?" Alberich shouted, his vanity all aroused.

"Well, if it be true--show us," the cunning Flame Spirit returned.

Immediately Alberich set the Tarnhelm upon his head.

"What would ye that I become?"

"Oh, it matters not--so that you become something that you are not,"

Loge answered carelessly.

"Then behold!" Alberich cried, and instantly he turned into a great

writhing serpent which coiled and uncoiled at Wotan's feet.

"Oh, swallow me not," Loge cried, as if in mortal fear. Then Alberich,

becoming himself again shouted, "Now will you doubt?"

"That was very well done," Loge assured him, "and I grant you

frightened me; but as for your safety--if you could have turned

yourself into some small thing--a toad or mouse for example--it would

be safer for you."

"Then behold!" Alberich shouted again, losing all caution in his

pique. He turned himself into a slimy crippled toad, which crawled

upon the rock, near Wotan's foot. Instantly Wotan set his heel upon

the creature and pinned him to the earth, while Loge grasped the

Tarnhelm. Then Alberich becoming himself again squirmed and shouted,

beneath Wotan's feet.

"Something to bind the imp, quickly," Wotan called to Loge, and in a

trice the dwarf was bound, and borne upward by the God and Loge. Again

they passed by the smithy lights, heard the ring of the anvils, and

soon they were back at the trysting place. The Nibelung, still

shrieking and cursing at his own folly, was placed upon a rock, while

Loge and Wotan stood looking down at him.

_Scene IV_

"There, imp, the Gods have conquered thee and thy magic. Thus they

conquer the powers of evil and darkness. Thou art henceforth our slave

unless you see fit to ransom yourself with the Rhein treasure."

At this, Alberich set up a great howling, but Wotan was impatient.

"Slavery for thee--worse than that of thy Mimes--or else give me the

Rheingold quickly." Alberich remembered his ring--the Tarnhelm hung

at Loge's girdle--and thought he might safely give up the gold.

"With my ring, I can win it back and more too," he thought; so he said

to Loge:

"Well, then, rascal, unbind my arm that I may summon the Nibelungen."

Loge loosened one arm for him, Alberich raised the ring to his lips

and called upon his host of imps. Instantly they poured from the

crevasses of the rocks, laden with the Rheingold, which they dumped in

a great heap before Wotan.

"Ah, thou rogues," Alberich shrieked to Loge and the War-god; "wait

till my time comes!--I'll make you dance." The awful little fellow

roared from his small throat with rage.

"Never mind that: we shall be able to take care of ourselves," the God

answered, while Alberich lifted the ring and the Nibelungen rushed

pell-mell into the rocks again.

"Being a God, you think you can take what you desire without pay; but

even the Gods must pay. The gold was stolen and you need not think to

profit by another's roguery."

"We shall chance it," Wotan replied, with a smile--"so take off that

ring of thine--" At this Alberich gave a frightful scream.

"Never! I will give my life, but never this ring. Oh, you wretches!

Rascals! Villains!" He stopped shouting for sheer lack of breath. He

saw before him the loss of that which was to win him back his gold and

power. Wotan made a motion to Loge, who laughed and dragged the ring

from the dwarf's hand, Wotan put the magic ring upon his own finger,

and Alberich nearly fainted with despair. Gathering his scattered

senses, he began to utter a frightful curse upon the ring. He swore

that whoever had it should meet ruin and death instead of power and

happiness, and cursing thus in a way to curdle even the blood of the

Gods, he spat at Wotan.

"Have done, thou groundling," Loge said. "Go to thy hole." Alberich

fled, still crying curses on the gold.

When Wotan and Loge first returned to earth with the imp, it had been

twilight, but now, just before night, the light grew stronger, and

when the mist that had hung lightly over all cleared away, Fricka,

Donner, and Froh could be seen hurrying to the tryst.

"Thou hast brought Freia's ransom," Fricka cried, joyously, looking at

the great golden heap. "Already, she must be near, because see! Do we

not all grow younger?" she asked tremblingly, looking at the others.

"It is true; we were dying and now I feel strength in all my limbs,"

Donner answered, looking in amazement at his brother Gods.

"Yes--here comes Freia with Fafner and Fasolt." Freia would have

rushed into Fricka's arms, but the Giants still held her fast.

"She is not thine till we have the gold," they declared; and thrusting

his staff into the earth, Fafner said:

"Thou shalt heap the Rheingold as high as my staff--which is as high

as the Goddess, and the heap shall be made as thick and as broad as

she. When this is done, she is thine." Wotan called out impatiently:

"Heap up the gold; make haste and be rid of them." So Loge and Froh

fell to heaping the gold about the staff, while the Giants stood by

and watched. When it all was piled, Fafner peered through the heap to

see if there was an unfilled chink.

"Not enough," he cried; "I can still see the gleam of Freia's

hair--which is finer than gold. Throw on that trinket at thy belt," he

signified the Tarnhelm which hung at the girdle of Loge. Loge threw it

contemptuously upon the heap. Then Fafner peeped again. "Ah! I still

can see her bright eyes--more gleaming than gold. Until every chink is

closed so that I may no longer see the Goddess and thus behold what I

have sacrificed for the treasure, it will not do. Throw on that ring

thou wearest on thy finger," he called to Wotan.

At that Wotan became furious.

"The ring. Thou shalt never have the ring--not if thou shouldst carry

away the Eternals, themselves." Fafner seized Freia as if to make off

with her.

"What, thou cruel God! Thou art going to let them have our sister,"

Fricka screamed, mingling her shrieks with Freia's. Donner and Froh

added their rage to hers, and assailed Wotan.

"I'll keep my ring," Wotan shouted, being overcome with the power it

would give to him, and determined rather to lose his life.

"Thou wretched God! Thy wickedness means the doom of the Eternals,"

Fricka again screamed, beside herself with the shrieks of Freia. As

the Gods were about to curse Wotan, a bluish light glowed from a

fissure in the earth.

"Look," cried Loge, and all turned to see, while Fafner, certain of

one treasure or the other, looked and waited.

The bluish light grew and grew, and slowly from the ground rose a

frost-covered woman, her glittering icy hair flowing to her waist, the

blue light about her causing her garments of frost to glance and

shimmer and radiate sparkles all about her.

"Wotan," she spoke, "give up thy ring." All were silent, the Gods and

Giants dumb with amazement.

Again she spoke: "It is Erda, she who knows the past, present, and the

future. Thy ring is accursed. Ruin and disaster follow its possession.

Give up thy ring!"

"Who art thou?" Wotan asked in amazement.

"I am mother of the three Fates--of her who weaves--her who

watches--and her who cuts the cord of life. They are my daughters. Thy

fate is spread out before me; give up thy ring." The Gods trembled

before one who knew both good and evil. Erda had sunk into the earth

as far as her breast.

"Give up thy ring," she sighed again, and disappeared in the earth, as

Wotan rushed toward her. Donner and Froh held him back.

"Touch her not--to touch her would mean death!" they cried. Wotan

stood thoughtfully, looking at the spot where Erda had been, till

presently, with a quick movement, he threw the ring upon the

Rheingold.

"Freia!" he cried, "give us back our youth and life, and thou, Giants,

take thy treasure." As Freia sprung toward her sister Fricka to

embrace her, the Giants fell to quarrelling over the gold.

"Here, thou! give me my share," Fafner roared, as Fasolt was trying to

possess himself of all the hoard. Thus they fought while the Gods

looked on.

"Keep the ring, Fafner," Loge called. "It is worth more to thee than

all the gold." But the struggle became more fierce till at last Fafner

with one great blow killed his brother, while the Gods looked on in

horror.

"Behold how Alberich's curse begins to work," Loge cried to Wotan.

"I must see Erda the Wise again," Wotan answered, abstracted and

troubled.

"Nay," said Fricka, grasping his arm. "See thy palace--the Walhall of

the Eternals for which thou hast nearly caused us to perish. Thou hast

got what thou desired, yet hast not even entered its halls. Come--let

us go and seek peace and happiness." Thus urged, but looking

thoughtfully at the spot where Erda had disappeared, he permitted

himself to be led toward Walhall.

"The place was paid for with an evil wage," one of the Gods said,

moodily, for all saw the mists settling upon them and felt youth and

hope leaving them. They had not yet eaten of their apples of life, but

Donner at last aroused himself and strode to a high peak.

"Come," he cried, in a mighty voice; and swinging his mammoth hammer

above his head he called again: "Come! Come, ye mists of all the

earth! Gather around me. Come, ye hovering clouds, ye foreboding

mists! Come with lightnings and with thunder and sweep the heavens

clear," and swinging his hammer he shouted: "Heda, heda, heda! To me,

all mists! To me, all ye vapours! Donner calls his hosts. Vapours and

fogs; wandering mists, heda, heda, heda!"

The black clouds gathered about him till all the Gods were obscured,

and as they enfolded them, even the Thunder God was hidden.

Out of the darkness flashed the lightning. Boom! his hammer crashed,

and the thunders rolled away into the hills.

Boom! the hammer crashed against the rock again, and with another

mighty stroke the darkness rolled away, the storm cleared, the sun

shone forth and at Donner's feet a brilliant rainbow-bridge appeared.

It bridged the way from peak to palace. It was the bridge of promise,

and to it Froh pointed the way. As the sun beamed upon the earth, the

pinnacles and roofs of Walhall shone like burnished gold, and Wotan

took his Goddess by the hand and crossed the bridge of promise while

the others followed in his train. Loge, going last, paused.

"I foresee the downfall of the Eternals," he murmured. "They have

longed for ease and luxuries which they have bought with evil

bargains. Shall I go with them, or shall I once more wander,

flickering, dancing, wavering, glancing--a Spirit of Flame that shall

destroy while others build?" Thinking of what was to come, he slowly

crossed the rainbow-bridge and cast in his lot with the Eternals.

As the Gods departed for Walhall, the Rhein-daughters were lamenting

their loss; but Wotan heard and turned to chide them. (_See following

pages--in which the music is to be read straight across five pages:

331 to 335 inclusive._)

[Music:

(Die drei Rheintoechter in der Tiefe des Thales, unsichtbar.)

(_The three Rhein-daughters in the valley._)

Wogl.

Rheingold! Rheingold!

guileless gold!

how brightly and clear

shimmered thy beams on us!

Wellg.

Rheingold! Rheingold!

guileless gold!

how brightly and clear

shimmered thy beams on us!

Flossh.

Rheingold! Rheingold!

guileless gold!

how brightly and clear

shimmered thy beams!

Wotan

(im Begriff den Fuss auf die Bruecke zu setzen, haelt an, und

wendet sich um.)

(_preparing to set his foot on the bridge, stops and turns

round._)

What plaints come hither to me?

Wogl.

For thy pure lustre now lament me:

Wellg.

For thy pure lustre now lament me:

Flossh.

For thy pure lustre now lament me:

Loge

(spaeht in das Thal hinab.)

(_looks down into the valley._)

The [Transcriber's Note: music ends here]]

THE NIBELUNG RING

SECOND DAY

THE VALKYRIE

CHARACTERS OF THE OPERA

Siegmund.

Hunding.

Wotan.

Sieglinde.

Bruennhilde.

Fricka.

The Valkyries: Gerhilde, Ortlinde, Schwertleite, Waltraute, Helmwige,

Siegrune, Grimgerde, Rossweisse.

ACT I

Far off in the forest lived a huntsman and his wife. The huntsman was

rough and brutal, but his wife, Sieglinde, was a young and tender

creature who lived far away from pleasure and friends, while her

husband hunted all day, went to sleep as soon as he had his supper,

and was always surly and rough.

The huntsman's house was strangely built, with the trunk of an ash

tree in its very centre, while struck deep into its hole was a sword.

The weapon had been driven so far into the tree's trunk, that only its

hilt was to be seen. The house was poor, indeed, with only a table and

some rough benches for furniture, and at one side, a fireplace where a

dull fire flickered.

One night, while Sieglinde was about to prepare Hunding's supper, a

handsome youth burst into the hut, seeking shelter from the storm. The

room was empty and he stood at the open door, looking about for some

one from whom he might ask a welcome; but all was silent and deserted;

so he staggered to the hearth and sank down before the fire upon a

great bearskin. He appeared to be exhausted as if he had fled far from

some persistent foe. He wore no armour, had no arms, and was quite

defenceless and worn.

"Whoever owns this shelter and warmth must share it with me for a

moment," he sighed: "I can go no farther;" and he stretched himself

before the welcome blaze.

Sieglinde, hearing a sound and thinking Hunding might have returned,

came from an inner room. Upon opening the door the sight that met her

eyes was the man upon her hearth-stone.

"Some stranger here!" She whispered to herself, a little afraid, for

she was not able to see his half-hidden face. Poor Siegmund had no

sooner stretched himself before the blaze than he fell asleep.

Presently Sieglinde drew nearer, looked into his face and saw that he

was very handsome, besides being gentle in appearance.

"I wonder if he can be ill?" she thought, compassionately; and as she

continued to look into his face a great feeling of tenderness and love

for him crept into her heart. Half waking, he called for water, and

Sieglinde gave it to him from the drinking horn. As she again bent to

give him the water, he saw her for the first time, and he looked at

her thoughtfully in his turn, and in his turn, too, he loved her. She

appeared to him to be very beautiful and kind.

"Whose house is this?" he asked, at last, watching Sieglinde wherever

she went.

"It is the house of Hunding, the hunter," she answered, "and I am

Sieglinde, his wife."

"I wonder will he welcome a wounded and defenceless guest?" he asked

with some anxiety.

"What? art thou wounded?" she demanded with solicitude. "Show me thy

wounds that I may help thee."

"Nay," he cried, leaping to his feet; "my wounds are slight and I

should still have been fighting my foes, but my sword and shield were

shattered and I was left at their mercy. They were many and I could

not fight them single-handed and weaponless. I must now be on my way.

I am but an ill-fated fellow, and I would not bring my bad luck upon

thee and thy house." He started to go out of the door.

"Thou canst not bring ill-fate to me," she answered, looking at him

sadly. "I am not happy here."

"If that be true," he said, pausing to regard her tenderly, "then I

shall remain," and he turned back into the house.

_Scene II_

At that very moment, Hunding was heard returning. Sieglinde, hearing

him lead his horse to the stable, opened the door for him, as was her

wont, and waited for him to come in. When Hunding finally appeared, he

paused at seeing Siegmund.

"Whom have we here?" he asked his wife, suspiciously.

"A wounded man whom I found lying upon the hearth-stone. I gave him

water, and welcomed him as a guest." Hunding, hearing this, hung his

sword and shield upon a branch of the dead ash tree, and taking off

his armour, handed it to Sieglinde.

"Set the meal for us," he said to her in a surly tone, looking sharply

at the stranger. Sieglinde hung the armour upon the tree and began to

prepare the meal.

"You seem to have come a long way," said Hunding at last to Siegmund.

"Have you no horse?"

"I have come over mountain and through brake. I know not whither the

journey has led me. I would find that out from thee; and may I ask who

gives me shelter?"

"I am Hunding whose clan reaches far, and who has many kinsmen. Now

for thyself?"

"I, too, have kinsmen who war for freedom. My father was a wolf and my

mother is dead. I am the son of the Waelsungs--a warring race. Once my

father, the wolf, and I wandered together in the forest. We went to

hunt, and upon our return we found our hut laid waste and my mother

burned to ashes. Then, sadly, my father and I went forth again."

"I have heard of this wolfling," Hunding answered, frowning. "A wild

and wolfish race, truly! Tell me, stranger, where roams thy father,

now?"

"He became the game of the Neidlings--they who killed my mother; but

many a Neidling has been destroyed in his pursuit. At last my father

must have been slain. I was torn from him, but later escaped from my

captors and went in search of him. I found only his empty skin, and so

I was left alone in the forest. I began to long for the companionship

of men and women; but I was mistrusted; whatever I thought right,

others thought wrong, and that which others thought well of appeared

to me to be evil. Thus, in all my wanderings, I found no friend. In

truth my name is Wehwalt: Woe. I may never find love and kindness.

Foes wait ever upon my track. Since I am a wolf's son, who will

believe that I have loving thoughts?" Hereupon, Sieglinde looked at

the handsome yet sorrowful stranger with great tenderness.

"Tell us, guest, how thy weapons were lost?" Hunding insisted.

"Willingly I shall tell thee. A sorrowing maid cried for help. Her

kinsmen thought to bind her in wedlock to one she did not love; and

when she cried to me to free her, I had to fight all her kinsmen

single-handed. I slew her brothers and while protecting her as she

bent above their bodies, her people broke my shield and I had to

flee."

"Now I know you," Hunding shouted, rising and glaring at the young

wolfling. "I was called to battle with my kinsmen--they were your

foes! He who fought us fled before I could reach the battling place,

and here I have returned to find my enemy in my house! Let me tell

you, wolf-man, my house shall hold you safe for the night, since you

came here wounded and defenceless; but to-morrow you must defend

yourself, for I will kill you."

At that Hunding moved threateningly toward Siegmund, but Sieglinde

stepped between them, regarding Siegmund with a troubled face.

"As for thee," said Hunding to her roughly; "have off with thee! Set

my night-draught here and get thee to bed!"

Sieglinde took from the cupboard a box of spices from which she shook

some into the drinking horn in which she was making the night-draught.

All the while she moved about she tried to direct Siegmund's eye

toward the sword hilt which gleamed upon the ash tree; but Hunding was

not pleased with her and drove her from the room to her bed-chamber.

Then taking the armour from the tree he glowered darkly at Siegmund.

"Look well to thyself, to-morrow," he said; "for I mean to kill thee."

Then he followed Sieglinde to the inner chamber.

_Scene III_

Siegmund sat down, sad and lonely, while the lights burned out and the

fire flickered lower. The wolf-man with his head in his hands thought

gloomily upon his unhappy fate. Never was he to find friends, though

he was true and honest and meant harm to no man.

"I have no sword," he thought; "hence I cannot defend myself against

Hunding. If only I could find, somewhere in the world, that enchanted

sword of which my father told me!" he cried, aloud in his despair.

Suddenly, the logs in the fire fell apart and the flame flared

high--it was Loge doing the bidding of Wotan, who, from Walhall, was

watching the movements of the Universe--and in the blaze the sword

hilt could be seen shining upon the tree. The gleam caught Siegmund's

eye, but he did not know what he saw.

"What is that so bright and shining?" he said to himself. "Ah, it must

be the memory of dear Sieglinde's brilliant eyes, which rested so

often upon that spot before she left the room. It is because I love

her and think of her that I fancy I see a jewel shining in the dark."

Musing thus he became sadder than before. Again Loge flamed up high,

and again Siegmund saw the gleam of the sword, but still he did not

know what he saw, so the lonely wolf-man was again left in darkness.

Then the chamber door softly opened and Sieglinde stole into the room.

She had left Hunding sleeping.

"Guest," she whispered. "Art thou sleeping?" Siegmund started up

joyfully.

"It is Sieglinde?" he whispered back.

"Listen! Make no sound. Hunding lies sleeping, overcome by the heavy

drink that I have given him. Now, in the night, fly and save thy life.

I have come to show thee a weapon. Oh, if thou couldst make it thine!

Many have tried, but all have failed. It is only the strongest in all

the world who can draw it from its strange sheath." Siegmund's glance

wandered to where she pointed, and rested upon the sword hilt which

the flame had shown him.

"I was given by my kinsmen to the cruel Hunding," she continued; "and

while I sat sad and sorrowful on my wedding night, and my kinsmen

gathered around rejoicing, there entered an old man, clad all in gray,

his hat pulled low over his face, and one eye hidden; but the other

eye flashed fear to all men's souls but mine. While others trembled

with fear, I trembled with hope; because on me his eye rested

lovingly. He carried a sword in his hand, and with a mighty stroke,

buried it deep in the ash tree.

"'Only he who has a giant's strength can draw that sword,' he cried.

After that, guests came and went, came and went, tried and tried; but

none could draw the sword. So there it cleaves until this day. Ah! if

thou couldst draw it out and save thy life! He who draws that sword

shall also deliver me from Hunding," she added, wistfully.

At that, Siegmund leaped up and clasped her in his arms:

"Then in truth shall I draw it. It is I who shall free thee. And who

but the God Wotan put the weapon there for thy deliverance? Thou sayst

he had but one eye! Did not Wotan give one of his to win his wife,

Fricka? Thou hast been guarded by the Gods themselves," he cried, and

again clasping her to his breast he promised to free her forever from

Hunding. "It is the weapon told of by my father, the wolf," he

declared; and while they stood thus, the outer door swung noiselessly

open and the moonlight streamed in.

"Ah! It is the Spring," he whispered. "The beautiful Spring! She has

entered unannounced to bring us cheer and hope, it is an omen of good.

I am no longer sad. I have found one to love who loves me, and a

weapon to defend her." With a mighty wrench Siegmund pulled the sword

from its bed and swung it above them.

ACT II

When Sieglinde and Siegmund had fled and while they were wandering,

waiting for the battle which was certain to occur between Siegmund and

Hunding, Wotan was preparing to send out his war-maid, Bruennhilde,

from the palace of the Gods--Walhall. The warrior-maid had been given

him by Erda, and she went forth each day to the ends of the earth, to

guard all warriors. When men died in battle, she and her eight

sisters, who were called the Valkyries, bore those heroes to Wotan,

and they dwelt in Walhall forever. It was on the day of the battle

that Bruennhilde and Wotan came to a high rock, armed and prepared for

war. Wotan carried a magic spear.

"Listen, Bruennhilde! Thou art to hasten. There is this day to be a

great battle between Siegmund, who is of the Waelsung race, and

Hunding. As for Hunding, I want him not in Walhall. Yet it is Siegmund

whom thou art to shield in the strife. Take thy horse and hurry

forth." Bruennhilde, springing upon her beautiful horse, Grane, flew

shouting over the rocks, loudly calling her battle-cry:

"Ho-jo-to-ho! Ho-jo-to-ho! Heia-ha, heia-ha, heia-ha!" This loud clear

cry, rang from peak to peak, from crag to crag, while the maid on her

enchanted horse flew away to summon her sisters. On a far peak she

paused, and called back to Wotan:

"Have a care war-father! Thy Goddess, Fricka, comes drawn in her car

by rams. She will give thee a great battle I fear; she swings her

golden lash, and makes the poor beasts dance. I tell thee, war-father,

thy Goddess has some quarrel with thee!" and laughing, Bruennhilde flew

on her way. Fricka's rams, scrambling over the rocks, dragging her car

behind them, landed her close to Wotan.

"So, Wotan, I must look the world over for thee!" she cried angrily.

"I have no time to chide thee, however. The hunter Hunding has called

to me for help. He is sorely pressed. Siegmund is his foe, and has

taken the magic sword from the ash tree. With that sword he is

invincible. He has carried off Hunding's wife, and I, the Goddess of

Home and Domesticity, must avenge him. I have come to warn thee not to

interfere for Siegmund. I shall help Hunding."

"I know of thy Hunding," Wotan answered, frowning. "And I know no harm

of Siegmund. It was the beautiful Spring which united the pair. Am I

to overwhelm these two with ruin because thy cruel Hunding has come to

thee for help? Spring's enchantment was upon Sieglinde and Siegmund."

"What, ye speak thus to me, Wotan? When those two had been united in

holy wedlock----?"

"I do not call so hateful a union, 'holy'," Wotan answered, sternly.

"Thy words are shameful. I have come to tell thee thou shalt take back

the magic power thou hast given to Siegmund with the sword. I know

well he is thy son, and that thou wandered upon the earth as a wolf,

leaving behind thee this sword, invincible, for thy beloved wolf-boy,

but I declare to you, I shall give you henceforth no peace till the

sword is taken from him. Hunding shall have his revenge! The conduct

of these mortals is shameful. But when Gods, such as thou, misbehave,

what can be expected of mere mortals?" Fricka sighed. "However thou

may seek to free thyself or defend thyself, I am thy eternal bride;

thou canst not get away from me, and if thou wouldst have peace, thou

wilt heed me. See to it that the wolf-man loses his life in this

encounter." Fricka, for all the world like a shrewish, scolding mortal

wife, quite overwhelmed the unhappy War-god.

"But what can I do, since I should have to fight against my own

enchantments?" Wotan urged, hoping to save his beloved wolf-son.

"Thou shalt disenchant the sword. The magic thou gavest thou canst

destroy." The quarrel was at its height, when Bruennhilde's cry could

be heard afar.

[Music:

Ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!

heia-ha! heia-ha!

ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!

heia-ha! heia-ha!

ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!

ho-jo-to-ho! ho-jo-to-ho!

heia-ha-ha!

ho-jo-ho!]

"Ho-jo-to-ho-ho-to-jo-ho! Heia-ha, heia-ha, heia-ha!" Bruennhilde came

leaping down the mountain again, upon her horse, Grane. Seeing a

quarrel was in progress between the Goddess and Wotan she became

quiet, dismounted, and led her horse to a cave and hid him there.

"There, Wotan, is thy war-maid now. Pledge me thine oath that the

magic sword which Siegmund bears, shall lose its virtue! Give thy

war-maid instruction." Fricka urged this in a manner calculated to

show Wotan there would be no more peace in Walhall if he flouted his

wife. He sat down in dejection.

"Take my oath," he said miserably; and thus Sieglinde's and Siegmund's

doom was sealed. Fricka triumphantly mounted into the car drawn by

rams, and in passing, spoke to Bruennhilde.

"Go to thy war-father and get his commands." Bruennhilde, wondering,

went to Wotan.

_Scene II_

"Father, Fricka has won in some encounter with thee, else she would

not go out so gaily and thou sit there so dejected. Tell me, thy

war-child, what troubles thee!"

At first Wotan shook his head, but presently his despair urged him to

speak and he told Bruennhilde the story of the Rheingold and the ring

of the Nibelungs.

"I coveted what was not mine," he said. "I got the gold from Alberich

and in turn Fafner and Fasolt got it from me. Fafner killed his

brother for love of the gold, and then turning himself into a dragon,

set himself to watch over the gold forever. It was decreed by the

Fates--Erda's daughters--that when Alberich should find a woman to

love him, the overthrow of the Gods was at hand. Alberich had bought

love with the treasure. Our only hope lay in the victory of some hero

in whose life I had no part. I left for such a one a magic sword, so

placed that only the strongest could draw it. He had to help himself

before I gave him help. Siegmund has drawn the magic sword. If he had

won in the battle with Hunding, the Eternals would have been saved;

but Fricka demands that Hunding shall win the fight and a God must

sacrifice all Walhall if his wife demands it. He had better be dead

than browbeaten forever." Wotan almost wept in his anguish. "So must

the Eternals face extermination. A wife can crush even a God!"

"What shall I do for thee, Father Wotan?" Bruennhilde cried

distractedly.

"Obey Fricka this day in all things. Desert Siegmund and fight on

Hunding's side." Wotan sighed heavily.

"Nay, I shall defy thy commands for once," she declared, but at this

Wotan rose in wrath.

"Obey me!--or thy punishment shall be terrible. To disobey would be

treason to the Gods." He strode away.

Bruennhilde put on her armour once more.

"Why is my armour so heavy, and why does it hurt me so?" she asked of

herself. "Alas! It is because I donned it in an evil cause." Slowly

she went toward the cave where her enchanted horse, Grane, was hidden.

_Scene III_

Now that the Gods had forsaken them, the two lovers, Sieglinde and

Siegmund, were in great danger, and Sieglinde, without knowing why,

was filled anew with fright. She hurried painfully along, assisted by

Siegmund who was all the time lovingly urging her to stop and rest.

"Nay," she answered always; "I cannot rest because I hear Hunding's

hounds who would tear thee in pieces, if they caught thee." At that

very moment they heard the blast of Hunding's horn in the distance.

"There he comes with all his kinsmen at his back, and they will surely

overwhelm thee," she cried in distress; and fell fainting with fear.

As Siegmund placed her tenderly upon the ground, Bruennhilde came

toward them from the cavern, leading her horse.

_Scene IV_

She regarded Siegmund sorrowfully and said in a troubled voice:

"I have come to call thee hence, Siegmund." The youth stared at her

curiously.

"Who art thou?" he asked.

"I am Bruennhilde, the Valkyrie; and whoever I look upon must die."

"Not I," Siegmund answered, incredulously. "I fight with the enchanted

sword of Wotan. My life is charmed. I cannot die."

"Alas!" she answered, then paused. Presently she spoke again. "Whoever

looks upon me must die, Siegmund," she said earnestly.

"When I have died, where do I go?" he asked. He was not sad at the

thought of giving up a life so full of strife.

"Thou goest to Walhall to dwell with the Eternals."

"Do I find there Wotan, and the Waelsungs--my kinsmen who have gone

before me?"

"Aye," she answered--"And Wish-maidens to fill thy drinking cup and to

cheer thee. It is the home where heroes dwell, forever and forever."

Siegmund's face glowed with hope.

"And Sieglinde?" he cried.

"Ah, not she. She must stay yet a while behind thee."

Then a terrible change came upon Siegmund and he frowned at the

Valkyrie.

"Begone! Thinkest thou I go to thy Walhall without Sieglinde? Begone!

What do you of the Gods know of love such as ours. Walhall is not for

me. I carry the enchanted sword given by Wotan. This day I kill

Hunding, and live my life in peace with Sieglinde."

Bruennhilde could no longer let him deceive himself.

"The enchantment of thy sword is gone!" Siegmund started. "Wotan

deserts thee. To-day thou must go hence with me. Hunding will kill

thee." For a moment Siegmund regarded the Valkyrie, then drawing his

sword, he turned to where Sieglinde was lying, still unconscious.

"What wouldst thou do?" Bruennhilde cried.

"Kill Sieglinde, to save her from Hunding's wrath."

"Leave her to me," Bruennhilde entreated, moved with pity. "I swear to

thee I will preserve her. Leave her with me."

"With thee--when Wotan himself has tricked me? Nay. The Gods are no

longer trustworthy," he said, bitterly, turning again to Sieglinde.

Bruennhilde, overcome with pity and admiration for such devotion

between mortals--a love more steadfast than the promises of the Gods

themselves--sprang forward to stay him.

"Do not! I will preserve thee--thee and thy Sieglinde. I am here to

guard Hunding, but it shall not be so. I will shield thee in the

fight. I will brave the wrath of Wotan for such love as thine and

Sieglinde's. If the magic of thy sword is destroyed, the power of my

shield is not. I will guard thee through the fight. Up! Renew thy

courage. The day is thine, and the fight is at hand." Mounting her

horse, Grane, the Valkyrie flew over the mountain tops and

disappeared. Siegmund's despair was turned to joy and again hearing

Hunding's horn, he turned to go, leaving Sieglinde to sleep till the

fight was over. The storm-clouds gathered, and all the scene became

hidden.

_Scene V_

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled ominously. Siegmund bent to kiss

Sieglinde and disappeared in the blackness of the storm. All the

heavens and earth spoke of war and death. The air grew thick with

vapours, and lightning cleft the hills. Siegmund called through the

darkness to Hunding to face him for the fight, and at the sound of his

voice and the horns and the shouting of battle, Sieglinde awoke. She

could see naught, but could hear the sounds of war. Her fear for

Siegmund returned. She shrieked and ran toward the storm-shrouded

mountain. The skies were rent, and high upon the rocky peak, Hunding

and Siegmund stood forth in battle.

"The Goddess Fricka is with me!" Hunding shouted.

"Away with thy Goddess! It is the Gods who support me" Siegmund

answered, bravely swinging his sword. Instantly Bruennhilde floated

above the warriors. She interposed her burnished shield between

Siegmund and the sword of Hunding, and cried:

"Thrust, Siegmund! Thy sword shall preserve thee!" Instantly the whole

earth was filled with a dazzling fire, in which Wotan appeared,

foaming with rage. He thrust his spear to catch the blow of the

wolfling's sword, which broke in half upon it; while Hunding's point

pierced Siegmund's breast. Bruennhilde fell at Wotan's feet, while with

a shriek Sieglinde in the glade below fell as if dead. While Wotan

faced Hunding, Bruennhilde rushed down the mountain to save Sieglinde.

Taking her in her arms she sprang upon Grane and flew for the rock of

the Valkyries.

"Now go, thou miserable being," Wotan thundered at Hunding, and waving

his spear at him, the man fell dead.

"Now Bruennhilde, for thee! and for thy punishment!" he cried in an

awful voice, and amidst the crashing of Donner's hammer against the

sides of the universe and flames from heaven, Wotan disappeared.

ACT III

Away on a far mountain, the Valkyries were waiting for Bruennhilde's

coming. They were her sisters: Gerhilde, Ortlinde, Waltraute and

Schwertleite, seated upon a high place, dressed in their armour. From

time to time they gave the cry of the Valkyries:

"Ho-jo-to-ho! Ho-jo-to-ho! Heia-ha, heia-ha, heia-ha!" Soon this call

was answered by Helmwige, who could be seen coming on her horse, with

a slain warrior tied to her saddle.

The Valkyries were arriving from the four quarters of the earth--each

bearing a slain warrior. At last, all but Bruennhilde had come.

"We cannot go to Wotan without her," they said among themselves. "She

is his favourite and she brings to him those heroes he most desires.

We must not start for Walhall till she has come." Thus they talked

among themselves, now and then sounding their cry and laughing over

the misfortunes of mortals. At last one called:

"Look! Bruennhilde is coming in wildest haste. Look, look! Her pace is

so furious that the horse staggers. What lies on her saddle?" All

peered in amazement into the vale below.

"It is no man," one cried.

"It is a maid," shouted another.

"She does not greet us." They ran to help her from her horse, shouting

their war-cry as they went, and returned supporting Sieglinde, while

they surrounded Bruennhilde and questioned her wildly.

"Shield us!" she cried to them. "I am pursued. The war-father is

coming after me. He is foaming with rage. Hide us, shield us." All

looked at her in consternation.

"What hast thou done?" they questioned.

"Who can shield thee from our father's wrath, Bruennhilde?" one cried.

"I see him not," one who was on the look-out called. "But a fearful

storm gathers."

"It is Wotan. Our father rides upon the storm. Oh, shield this poor

wife," Bruennhilde called.

"Alas! the storm increases."

"Then he is near. His anger increases as he comes," Bruennhilde cried

in terror. "Now who will lend me a horse to put this poor wife upon?"

None dared brave the wrath of the God.

"All of you are silent," she said at last, in despair. Turning to the

fainting Sieglinde, she cried:

"Up! Take the way to the east. There dwells the dragon, Fafner, and

near him Alberich also watches. That is the only place in the world

Wotan avoids. Go thou, and I will detain the Father till thou art far

and safe. Take these pieces of the magic sword. I snatched them when

Siegmund fell. Give them to thy son and Siegmund's, and that son shall

be named Siegfried. With these sword-pieces again made whole, the

sword shall win the world for that son of thine." With these words she

turned Sieglinde's face toward the east, while she herself stood

waiting.

Sieglinde was no sooner gone than the storm grew more fierce, and

Wotan called with a loud voice from the clouds:

"Bruennhilde!" Full of fear she sought to hide herself in the midst of

her sisters.

"He is coming, sister," they shouted. All the forest about them was

lighted up with a lurid fire, and Wotan came raging through the midst

of it.

_Scene II_

Striding from the wood he called again:

"Come forth! Naught can save thee from thy punishment." Without hope,

Bruennhilde came from the company of her sisters and threw herself on

her knees before Wotan. He looked at her in pity because he loved her

dearly.

"For thy treason to the Eternals and to me, I doom thee to roam the

earth as a mortal woman. I take thy glory from thee. Walhall shall

know thee no more. Thou art forever cast out from us. Henceforth thy

fate shall be to spin the flax, to sit by the hearth, a slave to man."

He could not look upon her because he loved her so.

At this, all the Valkyries cried out.

"Away!" he called to them. "Her punishment is fixed and whoever tries

to help her shall share her fate."

At this threat, all fled wildly to their horses, and shrieking, flew

away, leaving behind them a sound of rushing and a streaming light.

_Scene III_

Wotan regarded Bruennhilde mournfully. She raised herself and tried to

move him with her tears.

"If I am doomed to become mortal, to suffer all mortals' ills and

woes, remember still that my treason was partly for love of thee. I

knew Siegmund was dear to thee. Wilt thou not pity me a little?" Her

pleading was so mournful that Wotan at last listened to it.

"Bruennhilde, I will guard thee from the worst. Since thou must become

as mortals are, and the slave of man, I will guard thee from all but

the brave. I will enchant thee into a sleep from which only a hero can

wake thee. Fire shall surround thee, and he who would win thee must

pass through the flame." He kissed her on the eyelids which began to

droop as with sleep, and he laid her gently down upon a little mound

beneath a fir tree. He closed her helmet and laid upon her her shining

shield, which completely covered her body. Then he mounted a height.

"Loge!" he called, and struck the rock three times with his spear.

"Loge, Loge, Loge! Hear! Once I summoned thee, a flickering flame, to

be companion of the Gods. Now, I summon thee to appear and wind

thyself in wavering, dancing, fairy flame, about the fallen. Loge, I

call!"

A little flashing flame burst from a riven place. It spread, it crept,

it darted and stung; catching here, clutching there, fading, leaping,

higher, higher, higher, till all the world was wrapped in fire. The

shooting tongues drew about the God, who, stretching forth his magic

spear, directed it toward the rock on which the Valkyrie lay asleep.

The fiery sea spread round and in its midst Bruennhilde slept safely.

"He who fears my spear-point, may not cross the flame," he said,

pointing his spear toward the tomb of fire; and then, with backward

glances, the God of War passed through the flame and was seen no

more.

THE NIBELUNG RING

THIRD DAY

SIEGFRIED

CHARACTERS OF THE OPERA

Siegfried.

Alberich.

Mime.

Fafner.

The Wanderer.

Erda.

Bruennhilde.

ACT I

In a cavernous rock in the forest, hammering upon an anvil, was a

complaining Mime. As he hammered, the sparks flew from the sword which

he was forging.

"Alas!" he cried, muttering to himself, as he worked at his task;

"Alas! Here I am, day after day, trying to forge a sword which

Siegfried cannot break. I, who have made swords for giants, am yet

unable to satisfy this stripling."

At this the Mime flung the new-made sword upon the anvil with a crash,

and stood gazing thoughtfully upon the ground.

"There _is_ a sword to be forged which even that insolent boy cannot

break; a sword which, if the race of Nibelungs could wield it would

win them back the treasure and the ring. This sword must kill the

dragon, Fafner, who guards that ring--the magic sword, Nothung! But

my arm cannot forge it; there is no fire hot enough to fuse its metal!

Alas! I shall always be a slave to this boy Siegfried; that is plain."

While he lamented thus, Siegfried, himself, ran boisterously into the

cavern, driving a great bear before him. The youth was dressed all in

skins, wore a silver hunting-horn at his girdle, and he laughed as

bruin chased the Mime into a corner.

"Tear this tinkering smith to pieces," Siegfried shouted to the beast.

"Make him forge a real sword fit for men, and not for babes." The Mime

ran about, shrieking with fear.

"There is thy sword, Siegfried," he shouted, pointing to the sword

which he had thrown on the anvil.

"Good! Then for to-day thou shalt go free--the bear can eat thee

another day?" he cried, mockingly; and giving the bear a blow with the

rope which held him, the beast trotted back into the forest.

"Now to test thy great day's work! Where is this fine sword? I warrant

it will be like all the others; fit only for a child's toy." The Mime

handed him the sword saying:

"It has a fine, sharp edge"; thus trying to soothe the youth.

"What matters its edge if it be not hard and true?" he shouted

irritably, and snatching the sword from the Mime's hand he struck it

upon the anvil and it flew in pieces.

Siegfried flew into a great rage, and while he foamed about the

smithy, the Mime got himself behind the anvil, to keep himself out of

the angry fellow's way. When Siegfried's anger had spent itself, the

Mime came from the corner and said solicitously:

"Thou must be hungry, my son."

"Don't call me thy 'son,' thou little black fool," the boy again

shouted. "What have I to do with a misshapen thing like thee, whose

heart is as wicked as its body is ugly? When I want food, I'll cook

it." The Mime held out a bowl of soup to him, but Siegfried dashed it

to the ground.

"Did I not rescue thee from the forest when thou wert born, and have I

not fed and clothed thee?" he whimpered.

"If so, it was for no good purpose. I know thee." Siegfried had a

marvelous instinct which told him good from evil. "Dost know why I go

forth and yet return, day after day?" he asked presently, studying the

Mime's face thoughtfully. "It is because I mean to learn from thee

something of my mother and my father." Siegfried's voice had become

gentle, and full of longing.

"What can I tell thee?" the Mime replied, craftily. "I found thy

mother ill in the wood, and brought her to my cave, where I tended her

till thou wert born. I know nothing of thy father--except one thing."

He paused, considering whether or not he should reveal what he knew

about the good sword, Nothung.

"Well, get on with thy tale. I will know it all," Siegfried

threatened.

"Thy mother carried the fragments of a sword which had been thy

father's, and when she died at thy birth, she named thee Siegfried and

gave to me the pieces, saying if thou couldst reweld the sword, so as

to make it new, it would win thee the world. The sword's name is

Nothung."

"Where are those pieces," Siegfried roared, starting up and menacing

the Mime.

"Do not set upon me so fiercely--I will give them to thee," the Mime

pleaded, and taking the pieces from a cleft in the rock, he gave the

youth a sword in two parts. "It is useless to thee, I tell thee

frankly; I could not make thee the sword. There is no fire hot enough

to fuse the metal, and no arm strong enough to forge it--not even

mine, which has fashioned swords for giants."

Siegfried shouted with joy.

"Thou old thief, have the good sword done ere I return or I will have

the bear swallow thee at a gulp." Leaping with joy he went back into

the forest. The Mime sat down in great trouble. He did not doubt

Siegfried's word--yet he knew that he could never make the sword. He

fell to rocking himself to and fro upon the stone seat, while he

thought of what he should do to excuse himself upon Siegfried's

return.

In the midst of his trouble a strange man entered the cavern, dressed

in a dark blue cloak which nearly hid him. On his head was a great hat

pulled low over his face, but one fierce eye shone from under it. When

the Mime saw him, he felt new fear.

_Scene II_

"Who art thou?" the Mime demanded in an ugly tone, as the Wanderer

stood watching him reflectively.

"I am one who brings wisdom, and whom none who have good hearts turn

away. Only the evil turn from me. The good offer me shelter." The

Mime, seeing only his own cunning and wickedness reflected in the

Wanderer, tried to think how he should rid himself of one he believed

had come to harm him. He thought the Wanderer must be a spy, but in

reality, he was the God Wotan, who had seated himself upon the hearth,

and was watching the Mime.

"Listen!" he said, beholding the Mime's fear; "ask of me what thou

wilt and I shall lighten thy burden, be it what it may." He looked

long and curiously at the Mime and could read his heart.

"Wilt answer me three questions?" the Mime demanded.

"Aye--and stake my head upon the truth of the answers."

"Then tell me what race it is that dwells in the depths of the earth."

"It is the Nibelung race, and Nibelheim is their land. There, all are

black elves, and once upon a time, Alberich was their lord. He tamed

them with the spell of a magic ring formed of the Rheingold. Ask on."

"What is the race which dwells upon the surface of the earth?" The

Mime asked, less timidly.

"It is the race of Giants. Riesenheim is their land and Fasolt and

Fafner were their rulers, but, possessing themselves of the Nibelung's

gold, they fought, and one killed the other; till now, Fafner alone,

in the form of a dragon, guards the hoard and ring. Speak on."

"Thou hast told me much," the Mime said, wondering. "But now canst

thou tell me who are they who dwell upon cloud-hidden heights?"

"They are the Eternals, and Walhall is their home. Wotan commands that

world. He shaped his spear from the branches of an ash tree, and with

that spear he rules the Gods. Whoever wields that spear rules all the

giants and the Nibelungs." As if by accident, Wotan--the

Wanderer--struck the spear he carried upon the ground and a low roll

of thunder responded. The Mime was terror-stricken.

"Well, Mime, is my head which I pledged to thee, free?"

"Aye, go."

"If thou hadst welcomed me, I could have solved thy problems for thee,

but I had to pledge my head to thee before I could rest here. So now,

by the law of wager, this matter is now reversed. It is for thee to

answer me three questions--or lose thy head. Tell me, then: What race

does Wotan the War-god favour?"

"Ah, I can answer that: it is the Waelsungs--a race sprung from wolves.

The Waelsungs' mightiest son is his care. His name is Siegfried."

"Now tell me the name of the sword with which this same Siegfried is

bound to conquer the world, to kill the dragon Fafner, and to get the

Rheingold and the ring?"

"The name of the sword is Nothung," the dwarf replied, not daring to

keep silence.

"Now one more answer, as wise as those gone before, and thy head is

free: Who shall fashion this same sword, Nothung, for Siegfried?"

At this question the Mime leaped up and flung his tools all about in

rage.

"I know not who has the power to make the sword," he screamed.

"I will tell thee," the Wanderer answered, smiling contemptuously upon

the Mime. "The sword shall be forged by one who has never known fear.

Now thy head is forfeit, but I shall leave it on thy shoulders for

that same man--he who knows no fear--to strike from thee." Still

smiling at the terror-stricken Mime, the Wanderer passed out into the

forest.

He had no sooner gone, than the Mime began to think upon the last

words he had spoken. He was to lose his head by the stroke of one who

had never known fear. The only one the Mime knew who was fearless was

Siegfried. Then unless Siegfried could be made afraid, he would one

day strike off the Mime's head.

_Scene III_

When Siegfried returned to the cavern, the Mime began to tell him that

he must learn to fear, before he could go forth into the world to seek

adventures. He told Siegfried of the horrible dragon, Fafner, who

guarded the Rheingold and the Ring, thinking to strike terror to the

youth's heart; but Siegfried became at once impatient to go in search

of the dragon, that he might know what the experience of fear was.

"Where is that strong sword you are to make for me?" he demanded,

being thus put in mind of it again. The wretched Mime knew not what to

answer.

"Alas!" he sighed; "I have no fire hot enough to fuse the metal."

"Now by my head, I will stand no more of thee!" Siegfried shouted.

"Get away from that forge and give me the sword's pieces. I'll forge

that sword of my father's and teach thee thy trade before I break thy

neck." So saying, he grasped the fragments of the sword, began to heap

up the charcoal, and to blow the bellows. Then he screwed the pieces

into a vise and began to file them.

"Use the solder," the Mime directed. "It is there, ready for thee."

"Solder? What should I do with solder?" he said, and continued to file

the pieces till the file was in shreds. In time he had ground the

pieces to powder, which he caught in a crucible and put upon the fire.

While he blew the bellows with a great roaring of the fire, he sang

the song of Nothung, the invincible sword.

[Music:

Nothung! Nothung! conquering sword!

What blow has served to break thee?

To shreds I shattered thy shining blade;

the fire has melted the splinters

Ho ho! Ho ho! Ho hei!

Ho hei! Ho ho!

Bellows blow!

Brighten the glow.]

As the Mime watched that easy forging of the mighty weapon, he

believed that Siegfried was the one who would slay the dragon as Wotan

had foretold. If he did that then he surely would possess himself of

the treasure and the ring. So the Mime fell to planning how he could

get the gold into his own hands. Siegfried knew nothing of gold and

power, and so, why should he not willingly hand the treasure over to

the Mime? Then the Mime would determine that Siegfried should perish,

and by the ring's magic his destruction would come about, leaving the

Mime lord of all. So the Mime decided it was well that Siegfried

should forge the sword, because the Mime, even if he had such a sword,

had known fear, and therefore, could not kill the Dragon with it.

Siegfried must do this and the Mime should profit by it, and afterward

kill Siegfried. Thus he reasoned. All this time Siegfried had been at

work upon his sword. He had poured the molten metal into a mould, and

held the mould high above his head. Presently he plunged it into cold

water, and a great hissing of steam occurred. Again he thrust the

sword into the fire to harden it the more, and meantime the Mime was

fussing about the fire, making a broth.

"What is the devil's brew thou art making," Siegfried demanded giving

him a lowering look.

"Something to take with us upon the journey to the Dragon's lair."

"None of it for me," Siegfried shouted. "I'll have none of thy brew."

But the Mime reasoned that by the morrow, when Siegfried would have

slain the Dragon and have found himself weary, he would gladly drink

of the broth. As it was poisoned, it would kill Siegfried as soon

almost as he had killed the Dragon.

At last the broth was finished and poured into a bottle ready for

taking, while the sword was done at the same time, Siegfried having

tempered it and tested its point and its strength a little.

"Now," shouted Siegfried, "if the good sword will stand, let us go."

He stood before the anvil, swung Nothung about his head, and with a

frightful blow he cleaved the anvil from top to bottom so that the

halves fell apart with a great crash. The sight was more than the Mime

could bear and he stood palsied with fear of such tremendous strength.

"Yes, yes, let us be off," he cried, when he could speak again. He

longed to have the Dragon dead and Siegfried dying; only then would he

feel safe.

Swinging the great sword about his head, Siegfried started off into

the forest, in search of adventures.

ACT II

Alberich crouched, waiting near the Dragon's cave, having always

known, even as the Gods knew, that the day would come when even

Fafner, the Dragon, would meet his match.

When that time came, Alberich meant to possess himself again of the

gold, for he felt capable of fighting any one but the Dragon.

As Siegfried and the Mime reached the part of the forest where the

Dragon kept guard, it seemed to be black, black night and a storm was

brewing. The scene was very frightful, indeed. The thunder muttered,

showing that Donner was somewhere about, using his hammer. While

Alberich, imp of the underworld, sat watching and waiting, he saw a

bluish light, such as had appeared when Erda spoke to Wotan. Alberich

started up in alarm.

"Can that light mean the coming of him who is to slay Fafner?" he

wondered, as the bluish radiance grew brighter and brighter. Then the

storm abated and the light died out. Next, the Wanderer entered the

place before the Dragon's cave, and although it was very dark such a

bright light seemed to come from him that Alberich recognized Wotan.

"What are you doing here, thief," cried the black revengeful spirit,

"you who took the Rheingold? Once more let me gain possession of the

ring and I'll come against all Walhall and thy celestial world."

"Peace! Thy rage means naught to me," the Wanderer replied. "Listen,

and I will tell thee what thou wouldst like to know. The Mime brings

hither a boy who shall kill the Dragon. The Mime plans to win the gold

and the ring. I may not help the boy: I may not serve those whom I

love; but if thou wouldst warn the Dragon, very likely he would give

thee the treasure for thy reward. I'll call the Dragon to thee," he

said, and stepped to the mouth of the cave.

"Fafner, Fafner, awake, thou Dragon!" Alberich trembled with fear when

an awful voice roared in answer:

"Who wakes me from my sleep?"

"A friend," Wotan, the Wanderer, replied, bending his head toward the

cave and listening.

Alberich, taking courage, listened too, and called:

"A foe is near who comes to snatch the Rheingold and the ring from

thee."

"Then food is near at hand," the Dragon roared in his softest voice.

"Listen," Alberich persisted. "If thou wilt give the ring to me, I

will help thee." The Dragon yawned terrifically:

"Don't trouble yourself. I will look after my hoard and my ring."

Even if he had whispered, he could have been heard a mile away. As it

was, he spoke in his loudest voice, although he was sleepy, and

Alberich nearly fainted with terror.

"Thou hast failed with the Dragon, Alberich," the Wanderer said,

smiling, "but I will give thee one word more of advice: Make terms

with the Mime. Attack him; perhaps thou wilt have better luck with thy

kind!" In a flash of lightning, the Wanderer mounted his magic steed

and disappeared. When he had looked after him for a moment, Alberich

slipped into the Dragon's cave, and as he disappeared, the day slowly

dawned, and all the scene grew bright in the morning light.

Just at the dawn of day, Siegfried, and the Mime reached the glade

before the Dragon's cave. The enchanted sword hung at Siegfried's

belt.

_Scene II_

"Now we have arrived where the Dragon lives," the Mime said to

Siegfried.

"Ah?" the youth said, sitting down to rest under a lime tree. He

looked curiously about him. "Is it time to be afraid?" he asked,

anxiously. "Because if so, I feel nothing yet--although maybe I do,

and do not know it?"

"Oh, you'll know it fast enough," the Mime assured him. "In that cave

there lies the Dragon. His great hairy jaws will open and swallow thee

at one gulp." But Siegfried sat under the lime tree and asked if that

were really true. It interested him greatly.

"But one thing I tell thee," he cried: "If this thing which you have

told me be not true, we'll part company at once. I'm not to be

fooled. I have come here to learn something--how to be afraid--and if

I don't learn it as thou hast said, I'll teach thee to stop lying."

"When, out of the Dragon's mouth, a poisoned foam pours, which will

kill thee if any drop gets upon thee, I guess thou wilt shake a

little. Thy body and thy bones would melt if that stuff touched thee."

"Well, I'll give him plenty of room, to be sure," Siegfried replied.

"His great tail will sweep about and if he should catch thy limbs in

it, thy bones would be crushed like glass."

"That sounds very bad; but tell me if this thing has a heart which is

placed where other hearts are placed?"

"Truly--a cold and cruel heart."

"Oh, as to that, I am not concerned, but if he has any heart, Nothung

will slip into it. Now come, old babbler, is this the thing that is to

teach me fear--this thing that spits a bit and lashes about with a

clumsy old tail?"

"Laugh away, laugh away! But I have no mind to stay so near, so I

shall go away and lie down beside a stream to sleep. Watch thou there,

and have a care for thyself." So saying the Mime went off a little way

and laid himself down. When he had gone, Siegfried stretched himself

beneath the lime tree to listen to the birds' song. He cut himself a

reed and tried to answer the birds, but could not. As he rested there

in the bright day, he had lonely thoughts of his mother and his

father, and longed for some one whom he could love. While in the midst

of these musings, he looked up and there, with his frightful head

resting upon the knoll, was Fafner, the Dragon. He was giving vent to

a terrific yawn, and made such an awful sound that Siegfried regarded

him in amazement, but suddenly burst out laughing.

"Hello! Are you the beauty who is to teach me to be afraid? Well,

well!" and he laughed again. The Dragon ceased to yawn and stared hard

at Siegfried.

"You are a pretty plaything," Siegfried continued. "Such a nice, rosy

little mouth. I fancy you must be the fellow who was to scare me to

death. Thou art a beauty, surely!"

"Who is it?" the Dragon roared suddenly.

"Ho! And a sweet voice--like the birds," Siegfried grinned.

"Since my mouth is so rosy, let me see how my teeth will feel when set

in a juicy morsel like you," said the Dragon and he spouted venomous

vapours, stretching his horrid jaws, while Siegfried nimbly sprang to

one side to avoid the poisonous steam. Standing watchful, with his

sword, he tried to thrust it at the Dragon's tail, but Fafner roared

and swished his tail away, and prepared to strike with his body; but

to do this he had to raise himself upon high, and in so doing exposed

his breast. Instantly Siegfried plunged Nothung into his heart, and

the Dragon rolled over upon his side with a groan which shook the

trees to their very roots. Siegfried left his sword in the wound and

sprang to one side.

"Oh," groaned the Dragon, with a sigh like a weary earthquake. His

blood spouted upon Siegfried and burnt his hand like fire. As the

blood soused him, a little bird sang.

"It is almost as if that little bird was speaking to me," he said,

pausing and looking up into the trees. "Can it be the Dragon's burning

blood has some virtue which makes me understand the bird's song?"

"Siegfried now owns all the Nibelung's hoard which lies hidden in the

cave. There will be found the Tarnhelm and the ring, which will give

him power over all the earth," so the bird sang, and Siegfried

understood.

"I thank thee, dear birdling, for thy counsel. I shall follow thy

call." He turned toward the cave and entered it in search of the

treasures. At that moment, the Mime came into the glade, and Alberich,

in the dark of the cavern's mouth, slipped out past Siegfried, and the

Mime and he came face to face, while the dead Dragon lay between them.

_Scene III_

"Thou sly and slippery knave," Alberich began pleasantly to address

the Mime; "thou wouldst have the ring and the gold, eh?" He glared

viciously at the little imp of Nibelheim.

The Mime tried to pacify the evil creature, but Alberich, who had

waited long, would listen to nothing. Before they could fall

a-fighting, however, Siegfried came from the cave bearing the ring and

the Tarnhelm.

He slipped the ring upon his finger and hung the Tarnhelm at his belt.

"I know not what these things are for," he murmured to himself, "but I

have taken them because the little bird gave me that advice." Unseen

behind him, Alberich slipped into the cave to fetch the treasure. At

that same moment the little bird sang:

"Let Siegfried wait to see what the Mime will do. Listen and learn and

have a care."

"Good!" the youth cried. "I am the one to take advice." As the Mime

approached him, Siegfried stood steadily, one foot upon the knoll

where the Dragon had lain, and watched the imp.

"Ah, my lovely boy, hast thou now learned to fear?" he said, in an

ingratiating tone.

"Not yet, Mime!" Siegfried said, seriously.

"Well, at least thou art weary, so drink of this and rest a while,"

and the Mime drew forth his bottled broth. "It will give thee new

courage." But Siegfried, filled with loathing for the little man,

felled him with a single stroke of his sword. Thus the Mime was slain,

as Wotan had said, by one who knew no fear.

After that, the youth picked up the Mime's body and threw it into the

cave where the treasure lay still, and with a great effort he tugged

at the Dragon's body till he had rolled it near, and in turn he dumped

the Dragon into the cavern. After looking down into the darkness, he

sighed and turned back to the green glade.

"I am truly tired," he said. "I think I can now stretch myself beneath

this tree and rest." So saying he laid himself down and turned his

face to the sky.

"Ah, little birdling," he said, "Here am I, so lonely, without father

nor mother nor any one to love me. I wish thy clear voice would speak

again to me and tell me of some fond friend." The bird trilled:

[Music]

"Thou hast great treasure and power from this time forth; still thou

art not happy without love and one to share thy fortune. I will tell

thee then of a lovely bride who lies guarded round by fire in a rocky

forest fastness. She sleeps and waits for one who shall dare the

flames for love. The glorious maiden's name is Bruennhilde."

"Oh, song of joy," Siegfried cried, starting up. "Now indeed thou hast

made me happy."

"Only he who has never known fear may wake her," the little bird sang.

"Have no fear, dear bird. I have known no fear and Bruennhilde shall be

mine. Lead on, lead on, dear bird. Lead me to the rock where this dear

maid lies and I shall know no fear." The little bird rose beside him,

and circling a few times above his head, took a straight flight and

led the way while Siegfried followed.

ACT III

While Siegfried was on his way, led by the little bird, the Wanderer

was seeking Erda, who had given to him Bruennhilde and his eight other

warrior daughters. Erda was Wisdom, and the Wanderer sought her at the

base of a wild and rock-made mountain. It was night and a storm was

roaring all about. Wotan arrived at the mouth of a cave and called

"Erda!"

"Waken," he cried, "I must waken thee from thy long sleep." The bluish

light shone steadily and slowly Erda rose. She was covered with hoar

frost and her iridescent garment shimmered as if made of ice.

"Erda, a youth has been found who knows no fear. He has slain Fafner.

He is governed only by love, and I am about to resign my Godhood in

his favour. Wisdom has been sleeping and the Gods have lost their

power. Wisdom and the Gods must at last give way to love." Having

heard this, Erda slowly sank back to her sleep. Wotan, the Wanderer,

leaned gravely against the face of the rock, waiting for Siegfried.

Suddenly a little bird fluttered along, dropped to the ground, and

disappeared.

Siegfried, coming up afterward, saw the flight and disappearance of

his birdling, so knew that his journey was ended and that Bruennhilde

was near.

_Scene II_

"I must find the burning rock, without further help," he said. "I

think the little bird would not have gone, if it had not left me very

near the place." He looked impatiently about, and went toward the

mountain. In passing the Wanderer, who stood watching him, he paused

and asked which way he should take.

"Is there not a rock surrounded by flames, near by? And is there not a

maiden?" He told the Wanderer his story; and as the old man did not

speak, Siegfried became curious to know who he was. He looked closely

into his face, questioned him about his queer hat, and suddenly saw

that the strange old man had but one eye. He mocked at him, in his

youth and strength.

Wotan, being a God and truly loving Siegfried, spoke gently to him,

but the youth was defiant and mocked him again. The Wanderer became

enraged and declared that Siegfried should never pass the flames that

divided him from Bruennhilde.

"It is only he who fears naught," the God cried. "Look and say if thou

art he," He pointed his spear toward the mountain top and the flames

broke forth, burning fiercely.

"Ah," Siegfried cried; "it is there the lovely Bruennhilde sleeps!

Farewell, old man. I go to waken her and claim my bride." But the

Wanderer again halted the youth.

"That sword of thine has once been broken on my spear. I shall break

it again, wild boy. No sword has ever yet withstood the shock of my

spear. Thou canst not go!" He plunged his spear to bar Siegfried's

way, but Siegfried stepped back and regarded him closely.

"If this sword of mine has once been broken on thy spear, then thou

art the destroyer of my father--for this sword is Nothung. Thus, with

one blow I avenge him." So saying, he struck once at the Wanderer's

spear, and shattered it. The Wanderer stepped back, knowing then that

the end of the Eternals was at hand. Thunder crashed and lightning

splintered across the sky and sprung from the spear to the

mountain-top.

Presently, the flaming mountain height seemed to descend nearer to

Siegfried, and putting his horn to his lips he blew a great blast and

plunged into the fire.

He was soon out of sight, but gradually the fire died down, and the

red cloud hovering over all became less lurid in its reflection.

Gradually the cloud dissolved till naught was left but a beautiful

rosy mist. With the passing of the mist, Bruennhilde could be seen,

still lying on the mound where Wotan had laid her, and she was still

covered with her helmet and the beautiful shining shield.

_Scene III_

The fir tree spread itself above Bruennhilde, and she shone in her

brilliant armour. Siegfried rose above a mound, and stood looking at

her, spellbound. Near at hand, he saw a beautiful steed, standing as

if asleep: it was Grane, who had been enchanted along with his

mistress.

Gently lifting Bruennhilde's shield he thought himself to be gazing

upon a young man.

"I think his helmet must press too heavily upon his brow!" Siegfried

murmured, and lifted it. The beautiful hair of Bruennhilde streamed

down, and Siegfried paused in admiration; but still he thought her a

man.

"I think his armour presses," he whispered. "I will lift it." He

carefully cut the fastenings with his sword and lifting the

breast-plate he saw the form of Bruennhilde lying shrouded in the soft

folds of her gown. She was so beautiful that at last he was afraid.

"Oh, how shall I awaken her?" he cried, and stooping he kissed her

lips, as she opened her eyes. At the same moment, Grane, the horse,

moved and began quietly to graze.

Bruennhilde looked about her, saw her dear horse, and the sun and the

glory of the day, and lastly beheld Siegfried who had delivered her

from the enchantment of Wotan.

"Is it thou who hast gone through flame for me?" she asked.

"It is I who will guard thee forever," he cried, embracing her

tenderly. Knowing that she loved him, the only fear he had ever known,

vanished. Thus mortal love overthrew the powers of evil, and of the

Gods, as well.

NIBELUNG RING

FOURTH DAY

THE DUSK OF THE GODS

CHARACTERS OF THE OPERA

Norns (3).

Fricka.

Bruennhilde.

Gutrune.

Waltraute.

Siegfried }

Gunther } Nibelungen.

Hagen }

Wotan.

Donner.

Alberich.

Woglinde.

Wellgunde.

Flosshilde.

PROLOGUE

On the Valkyries' rock, where Siegfried woke Bruennhilde, the Norns

were gathering. The first Norn was old and tall and lay where

Bruennhilde had lain--under the spreading fir tree. The second was

younger and also tall, and she was stretched upon a rock in front of

the cave. The third was the youngest, and she, too, was tall, and she

sat upon a rock below the mountain peak, and all were clothed in dark

and veil-like draperies.

They were Erda's daughters, and were called the Fates. Behind them

shone the firelight which guarded the rock and it flared fitfully

above the peaks.

The first Norn unwound from her waist a golden rope and tied one end

of it to a branch of the fir tree. While one wove into this rope the

destinies of the world, another clipped it, and the three sang the

story of creation. They sang of the ash tree, of Wotan and the

Eternals; and as they sang they threw the rope from branch to branch,

weaving and clipping, weaving and clipping. They sang the story of

Bruennhilde, of the Rheingold, of all the strife in the world, and of

the destinies of the Gods and mortals.

After a while the dawn began to glow, the sun to rise, and the

fire-glow behind the mountain to die out.

On the Third Day, Bruennhilde and Siegfried had entered the cave; then

when the sun rose and night was dispelled, they came out, Siegfried

dressed in Bruennhilde's armour and Bruennhilde leading her good horse,

Grane.

"Now, I must be gone and do valorous deeds, dear Bruennhilde,"

Siegfried said to her. Taking the Nibelung ring from his finger, he

put it upon hers. "Keep thou this ring and thou art all powerful and

it shall keep our faith, truly."

In return Bruennhilde gave him her horse, Grane.

"Once he mounted above the clouds while now he can only pace the

earth; but that he will do bravely for thee, my Siegfried," she

assured him. The parting was full of promises and love for each other.

Siegfried and Grane disappeared below the cliff, while Bruennhilde,

standing upon a little mountain height, looked down at them and bade

Siegfried a loving farewell.

ACT I

While Siegfried was on his way to search for the glory suited to such

a hero, a banquet was being held in the hall of the Gibichungs, a

race of mortals living on the banks of the river Rhein.

Gunther and his sister Gutrune were the rulers, and they sat upon a

rude throne, side by side, while the banquet table was spread before

them.

At one side sat Hagen, the half brother of Gunther, half a

Nibelung--in short, the son of Alberich. Through the great door of the

hall could be seen a green field stretching away to the bank of the

Rhein.

"Tell me, Hagen," Gunther asked of his half brother, "is there

anything I have left undone that could enhance the fortunes of my

race?"

"That there is," Hagen cried. "Dost thou not know of the Nibelungs'

ring?"

"I have heard there is a treasure stolen from the Rhein-daughters; and

that of it a ring was made, which has magic power."

"That is true; but the ring belongs to a wonderful youth, who by its

power hath won a beautiful maiden called Bruennhilde. She lay in an

enchanted sleep, in a forest-fastness, guarded by fire. This youth,

Siegfried, alone, by means of this ring and his sword, has dared that

flame; and now he has power over all the world, over thee and the

Nibelungs, and even over the Gods."

Upon hearing this, Gunther became moody and frowning.

"Why hast thou stirred up envy in my breast. Why should this youth

have the most beautiful maiden for a wife, and also a golden treasure

that gives him power over us all?"

"Why not have these things for thyself?" Hagen asked, eyeing him

keenly.

"How could I manage that?"

"Dost thou remember a magic potion I brought here to the hall of the

Gibichungs? If Siegfried should chance to drink that when our sister

Gutrune were in his sight, he would forget Bruennhilde and love none

but Gutrune. Would not the ring and the treasure of the Rhein thus

come into the hands of the Gibichungs?" Gutrune looked earnestly at

Hagen.

"From what thou sayest of this brave youth, I long to have him for my

husband; but he is not here! How are we to lure him hither?"

"He is an adventurous youth and hath heard of the fame of the

Gibichungs. He will not rest until he has met with all the adventure

the Gibichungs can afford him. Even now, he may be near this place."

As Hagen spoke, the sound of Siegfried's horn was heard afar off.

"Ah, dost hear the challenge?" cried Hagen, running to the broad

entrance from which could be seen the river Rhein. "There comes a

horse and a man, standing in a boat which nears the shore. It must be

he, because he is beautiful as none other is beautiful, and he wears

the air of a brave man." Putting his hands to his mouth in the fashion

of a trumpet he called loudly:

"Hoi-ho! Whom seekest thou, hero?"

"The stalwart son of the Gibichung."

"A welcome waits thee," Hagen answered. Siegfried could now be seen,

disembarking with his horse, Grane. Hagen went to help him and made

the boat's chain fast. Gunther followed his brother to the bank, while

Gutrune stood in the great entrance to welcome the stranger.

_Scene II_

"Which is the son of the Gibich?" Siegfried asked, standing with his

arm thrown across his horse.

"I am he, Siegfried," Gunther answered.

"Thy fame as a fighter has spread to the farthest corners of the earth

and I am come to seek thee. Fight me, or be my friend, whichever thou

wilt," he said, tranquilly. Gunther held out his hand in welcome:

"Come thou in friendship, Siegfried," he begged; and Siegfried gave

Grane's bridle into Hagen's hand.

"Care well for the horse, Hagen; for it is of the mightiest strain

ever known, and dear to me as my eyes; but how do you know my name?"

he asked curiously of Gunther.

"Thou hast the appearance of that bold knight of whom all have heard.

There can be no braver in the world, and if thou art not he I know not

who thou art," Gunther answered, and, unseen by Siegfried, he motioned

his sister to leave the hall before they entered it.

"These lands and people are mine," he continued, leading the way.

"This great hall is my heritage, and my kinsmen are legion. I give all

to you; share all with me. Let us dwell together in peace." At this

saying a beautiful light came into Siegfried's face.

"I have neither kinsmen nor lands," he answered, much moved; "but I

have this good sword, Nothung, which I forged myself and it, with my

life, shall be thine." Thus they made a compact of brotherhood.

"Dost thou not own the treasure of the Nibelungen, then?" Hagen asked.

"True, but when I won it I let all but the ring and the Tarnhelm lie.

I cared naught for the gold." He held up the Tarnhelm for them to see.

"Aye, 'tis the Tarnhelm!" Hagen cried. "Thou hast only to set it on

thy head to be transformed into what thou wilt. Put it on thy head and

wish it so, and thou wilt be transported in a trice to other lands.

But there is also the ring----"

"Aye," Siegfried said tenderly; "but that is held by a woman," Hagen

and Gunther looked at each other, meaningly, for they knew he spoke of

Bruennhilde.

"Brother, call Gutrune to bring Siegfried a refreshing drink," Hagen

said, and Gunther opening the door called to his sister who came out

and offered the magic drink to the knight.

No sooner had he drunk, than he raised his eyes to thank Gutrune and

beholding her, loved her.

"I drink to thee, dear Bruennhilde," he had been about to say, but

looking, he loved another.

"What is thy sister's name?" he asked of Gunther in a low voice,

scarcely daring to speak for fear his love would depart.

"Gutrune."

"I must have her for my wife. Hast thou not a wife, Gunther--why hast

thou none?" he said, not waiting for one question to be answered

before asking another.

"Alas, I have no wife because I have set my heart on one I may not

have. I long for Bruennhilde, the Valkyrie maid who lies surrounded by

fire--and I may not cross the flame."

"What! Is that thy only reason for being lonely? Then thou shalt have

thy Bruennhilde. If Gutrune may be mine, I will win thy Bruennhilde for

thee. Wearing the Tarnhelm I shall change my shape to thine, and as

thy brother go through fire for thee and bring forth the maid."

"Ah," the Gibichung cried, joyfully; "our oath of brotherhood upon

that! Gutrune shall be thine, thou ours, Bruennhilde mine."

Thus it was agreed. Hagen filled a drinking horn, while the two men

cut their arms and let their blood mingle in the cup. Having drunk,

they swore fidelity in the drink, and Hagen cut the horn in two with a

single blow, while Siegfried and Gunther joined hands.

Putting on his armour again, Siegfried declared they should at once go

forth and win Bruennhilde for Gunther.

"Wilt thou not rest, first?"

So eager was the enchanted Siegfried to win for another his own bride

that he would take no rest till it was done; so Hagen was left to

guard the hall till their return. Soon Gunther and the knight were

pushing off from the river bank, and floating down the middle of the

stream.

Hagen, the half Gibichung, half Nibelung, thought of nothing but

winning the Rheingold for the Nibelungs. He had sent Gunther after

another's bride, by means of an evil enchantment, and when she was

brought to the hall, she would certainly be wearing the ring. Thus the

prize of the Nibelungen would once more be within the grasp of an evil

race, and that which might be a power for good if rightly used, would

become a power for evil and be badly abused.

_Scene III_

While Siegfried and Gunther were on their way to fetch Bruennhilde, she

sat lonely upon her rock, looking at the ring given her by Siegfried.

As long as she looked upon it, she felt Siegfried to be near;

nevertheless she was lonely. Very soon she heard the thunder.

"It is Donner! It is like a greeting to me from the Eternals," she

thought, smiling half sadly. Once again she heard it and saw the flash

of lightning. In the clouds, she saw Waltraute, her sister, coming on

her winged horse, and Bruennhilde started up joyfully.

"Wotan has forgiven me," she cried, running to meet Waltraute, who

arrived in great excitement.

"Bruennhilde, I have braved the war-father's wrath to beg thee to save

the Eternals," she cried. "Since the day of thine enchantment Wotan

has sent us no more to the battle-field for heroes. He has roamed over

all the earth, till he is known as the Wanderer. One day he returned

to Walhall with his spear broken, and he ordered the ash tree to be

hewn in pieces and its splinters piled about Walhall. Then he summoned

all our heroes about him, mounted the throne with his broken spear in

his hand, and while we Valkyries crouched at his feet, he closed his

eyes and seemed to wait for calamity to overwhelm us.

"At last in despair I threw myself upon his breast and demanded to

know our fate. He told me that the Nibelungs' ring was now yours, and

that should you restore it to the Rhein-daughters, the Eternals would

once more be given back their life and youth, and all would be well

with the world. Now I have fled to thee to beg thee to save us by

restoring the ring."

At that, Bruennhilde looked at her sister sorrowfully. "The ring given

me by Siegfried? Nay! I will never give up my ring. So hasten back to

Walhall, sister. I cannot aid thee." Sadly embracing the despairing

Valkyrie, Bruennhilde parted from her.

Mounting her winged horse, Waltraute rose among the clouds whose

bright effulgence was watched sadly by Bruennhilde, till with the last

sight of the Valkyrie, the evening closed in and the fire which

guarded the beautiful maid began to be reflected again from below.

Soon the flames seemed to leap with anger, and Bruennhilde watched the

strange sight with anxiety. Suddenly she heard a call. It was

Siegfried's. She ran to the edge of the cliff to look below, and

almost instantly he appeared, rushing to her through the flames which

immediately grew dull. The knight wore the Tarnhelm, but it hid only

the half of his face, and his eyes were visible. His form was strange

to Bruennhilde because he had changed into the image of Gunther, and

when she looked at the unknown figure she shrieked. Then she

whispered:

"Who cometh?" At first Siegfried stood motionless, leaning upon his

spear. Then he said in a strange voice:

"I am a Gibichung come to wed thee." This made Bruennhilde frantic with

terror, and to protect herself she stretched out the hand which wore

the ring.

"Go back," she cried, but Siegfried in the guise of Gunther tore the

ring from her, and after that she had no more strength to fly from

him, so seizing her he carried her away to the hall of the Gibichungs.

ACT II

Back at the home of the Gibichungs sat Hagen, awaiting the return of

Gunther and Siegfried. Altars to Fricka, Donner, and Wotan were raised

upon the Rhein, ready for sacrifices to be offered, when Gunther

should return with Bruennhilde for his bride.

Toward evening, Hagen sat just inside the entrance hall asleep and

leaning upon his spear, his shield beside him. When the bright moon

rose above the river, Alberich could be seen crouching at Hagen's

knees, whispering evil dreams to him.

"Thou art my son," he said, "and must win back the Rheingold for the

Nibelungen"; and in his dreams, Hagen promised to follow the counsel.

Then the moon's light was hidden, and in the darkness Alberich

disappeared. When he had gone, the dawn broke. Hagen woke and looked

out upon the peacefully flowing Rhein.

_Scene II_

As the Rhein grew redder and redder in the morning light, Hagen heard

Siegfried's call and, all at once, the knight's head rose above the

river's bank. He still wore the Tarnhelm upon his head, but appeared

in his own shape.

"Waken and greet me, Hagen!" he cried gaily.

"Where are Bruennhilde and Gunther?" Hagen called, going to meet

Siegfried.

"They follow, more slowly, in the boat. When I called to thee just

now, I was miles away--at Bruennhilde's rock; but with the Tarnhelm

upon my head, I arrived before thou couldst answer. Where is the

beautiful Gutrune?"

"She will come at once to hear thy tale and to greet thee." Hagen

called to her, and she appeared to learn of Bruennhilde's coming with

her brother. She looked shyly at Siegfried.

"Let us call all to the wedding and greet Bruennhilde gaily, that she

may be glad to dwell with us, and not sigh for her mountain rock," she

cried; and Siegfried, taking her hand, went with her to prepare the

feast.

Meanwhile, Hagen, watching from a high rock, blew upon his cow-horn as

he saw a boat slowly coming up the river bearing Gunther and

Bruennhilde.

_Scene III_

"Ho! Vassals! Come! Hither come ye with your arms!" he shouted,

blowing again a sharp blast upon the horn. In response the warriors of

Gunther began to pour from the hall, and to run in great excitement to

the river-bank.

"What do we gather for? Whom shall we fight? Is our Lord, Gunther, in

danger?"

"He comes hither with a Valkyrie maid, and ye are to make sacrifices

to the Gods. Kill ye a boar for Froh, a goat for Donner, and for

Fricka kill a sheep. After ye have done those things, take the

drinking horns and drink yourselves drunk in honour of the Gods."

The vassals went, some of them to the river's bank to receive Gunther

and Bruennhilde, some to the hall to await their coming, and to welcome

them upon its threshold.

"If any one has done your Lord's bride wrong, see that ye avenge her,"

Hagen forewarned. He was already beginning to stir up strife for

Siegfried in accordance with Alberich's advice.

_Scene IV_

Clashing their shields and arms together, the vassals formed a line

through which Bruennhilde and Gunther should pass, and when the boat

reached the landing place all cried "Hail!" But Hagen stood silently

watching, planning Siegfried's ruin.

When the pair stepped ashore, Bruennhilde walked with eyes cast down,

full of despair and sorrow, while Gunther led her by the hand.

They reached the hall, where Siegfried and Gutrune stood to welcome

them, and the men hailed each other as brother. Gunther rejoiced that

Siegfried had won Gutrune for his wife, but Bruennhilde raised her eyes

to the knight, and beholding her own husband, the hero knight, she

gave a great cry:

"Siegfried here?" She became distracted with horror. But Siegfried did

not know her, and all her entreaties were in vain, since he was still

enchanted by the potion.

Suddenly the Valkyrie maid saw the Nibelungen ring upon Siegfried's

finger, and she pointed to it, trembling. Gunther, astounded by her

appearance, touched her.

"Regard thy husband, Bruennhilde," he commanded; but instead of heeding

him, she pointed to the knight.

"He is my husband," she cried, and Hagen at once demanded that all

should give heed to what she might say. He foresaw the downfall of

Siegfried, in her words.

"The one who won me, wore that ring," she said, pointing to it with

shaking hand. "He was the image of Gunther, then, and he took the ring

from me." Gunther looked at Siegfried and frowned while all stared at

the men and at Bruennhilde in amazement.

"It was he who wrenched the ring from me," she declared, pointing to

Gunther, "yet it is this knight who wears it." Gunther denied having

given or taken from her the ring, and Siegfried declared she did not

speak the truth. Gunther feared to have it known that he had not dared

the flame himself, for his bride, and yet he feared Siegfried had

betrayed his honour. There was confusion among the spectators who said

among themselves:

"Whose wife can Bruennhilde be?" But Siegfried, having quite forgotten

the woman he so dearly loved, declared that he had got the ring he

wore from no woman, but had taken it from a dragon, whom he attacked

in his lair, and killed. This was true, of course, but it was also

true that he had given the ring to Bruennhilde and under a wicked

enchantment had taken it away.

Hagen spoke next, seeing a chance to gain the ring for the Nibelungs:

"Bruennhilde, thou sayest it was Gunther who wooed thee, and that it

was he who took the ring from thee? Since that is true, Siegfried has

won the ring by some false deed. It must have been Siegfried who came

to thee in the guise of Gunther."

At this all the vassals murmured, and Gunther began to feel

resentment, notwithstanding the part he had played in the deception.

Bruennhilde wildly accused them both, and everybody cried out against

Siegfried, Gutrune, too, accusing him. All the women called upon the

knight to defend himself if he could, but he called for the spear's

point on which to take an oath. When Hagen presented the spear to him,

the knight laid his two fingers upon it and swore that he had been a

faithful friend to Gunther, and that Bruennhilde's words were false.

Bruennhilde, thus wronged, struck his hand from the spear and placing

her own upon it, swore that Siegfried should die by that same spear's

point.

By this time the quarrel had waxed so hot that the vassals and women

called upon Donner to send his thunder, to silence it.

In the midst of the threats and confusion, Siegfried went close to

Gunther and said aside:

"Brother, I am sorrier than thou art for all this, but it must have

been the fault of the Tarnhelm which must have hidden only half of me.

Thus, Bruennhilde cannot know whose wife she really is. But thou

knowest well, that I won her for thee, and have no love for any but

Gutrune. Come, let's be gay, and leave this poor girl to rest, so

that she may recover herself. Like enough it is the strangeness of

this place, after her wild, free life in her mountains, that gives her

these uncanny thoughts."

Gunther, convinced by Siegfried's words, joined him in urging all to

make gay upon this day of double marriage, and finally they followed

Siegfried out into the forest, shouting and laughing, to feast and

make sacrifices.