He wrote to his friend Roekel: "If anything could increase my scorn of the world, it would be my expedition to London."

Wagner was fiery and excessive in all his feelings and doings. He hurt his friends without malice, and made them happy for love of doing so. His home was broken up by his own unruly disposition; and when his good, commonplace wife left him, it was said that he neglected to take care of her, but this was not true. She, herself, denied it before she died. His second marriage was a happy one—to the daughter of his friend Liszt.

When his little son was born, he named him Siegfried, after his favourite hero, and at the time of the christening he had a magnificent little orchestra hidden away, conducted by Hans Richter, which played the old German cradle-song, now woven into the third act of "Siegfried."

The manner in which the cycle of the "Nibelung Ring" was first presented was as follows: The first opera was given on a Sunday, the last on a Wednesday, and then there were three days of rest, beginning once more on a Sunday and ending as before. This order continued for three representations, and it has been followed in Bayreuth ever since.

For lack of means, Wagner saw his theatre opened only three times, but since his death there have been several performances.

THE NIBELUNG RING

FIRST DAY

TETRALOGY

THE RHEIN DAUGHTERS: Woglinde, Wellgunde, Flosshilde; guardians of the Rheingold. They appear in the "Rheingold" and in the "Dusk of the Gods."

FRICKA: Goddess of Marriage or domesticity, Wotan's wife; sister of Donner, Froh, and Freia. Appears in the "Rheingold" and in the "Valkyrie."

FREIA: Goddess of Plenty; sister to Donner, Froh, and Fricka. Appears in the "Rheingold."

ERDA: Goddess of Wisdom; mother of the three Fates or Norns and of the nine Valkyries. Appears in the "Rheingold" and in "Siegfried."

SIEGLINDE: Daughter of Wotan under his name of Waelse. Hunding's wife, and then Siegmund's wife. Siegfried is her son. Appears in the "Valkyrie."

BRUENNHILDE: A Valkyrie; daughter of Wotan and Erda; first Siegfried's wife, then Gunther's.

THE VALKYRIES: Helmwige, Gerhilde, Waltraute, Ortlinde, Rossweisse, Grimgerde, and Schwertleite. [Transcriber's Note: Siegrune omitted in original.] Daughters of Wotan and Erda, and sisters to Bruennhilde. Appear in the "Valkyrie," and Waltraute also in the "Dusk of the Gods."

NORNS: Earth's daughters who spin men's destinies.

GUTRUNE: Daughter of Gibich and Grimilde and Gunther's sister, Hagen's half-sister, and Siegfried's wife. Appears in the "Dusk of the Gods."

WOTAN: (The Wanderer) King of the Gods, and God of War, Father of the Valkyries, Father of Siegmund and Sieglinde. Appears in the "Rheingold," the "Valkyrie," and as the Wanderer, in "Siegfried." Married to Fricka.

ALBERICH: Gnome: King of the Nibelungs, Spirit of Darkness. Appears in the "Rheingold," "Siegfried," and the "Dusk of the Gods."

FASOLT: Giant and brother of Fafner; belongs to the race of mortals. Appears in the "Rheingold."

FAFNER: Giant and brother of Fasolt, and of the race of mortals. Appears in the "Rheingold" and "Siegfried."

FROH: God of Pleasure; brother of Donner and Freia, and Fricka. Appears in the "Rheingold."

DONNER: God of Thunder, brother to Fricka, Freia, and Froh. Appears in the "Rheingold."

LOGE: Spirit of Fire and Flame. Belongs first to the underworld and then the Gods. Appears in the "Rheingold."

MIME: Dwarf (Nibelung, foster-father of Siegfried.) Appears in the "Rheingold" and in "Siegfried."

SIEGMUND: Son of Wotan, husband to Sieglinde and Siegfried's father. Appears in the "Valkyrie."

SIEGFRIED: Son of Siegmund and Sieglinde, and grandson of Wotan (Waelse). Husband of Bruennhilde and Gutrune. Appears in "Siegfried" and the "Dusk of the Gods."

HUNDING: Sieglinde's husband. Appears in the "Valkyrie."

GUNTHER: Son of Gibich and Grimhilde and brother to Gutrune and husband to Bruennhilde; half-brother to Hagen. Appears in the "Dusk of the Gods."

HAGEN: Son of Alberich and Grimhilde; half-brother to Gunther and Gutrune. Appears in the "Dusk of the Gods."

THE RHEINGOLD

CHARACTERS OF THE OPERA

Donner } Wotan } Froh } Gods. Loge }

Fricka } Freia } Goddesses. Erda }

Alberich } Mime } Nibelungs.

Fasolt } Fafner } Giants.

Woglinde } Wellgunde } Rhein-daughters. Flosshilde }

Nibelungs.

ACT I

Deep down in the jagged bed of the river Rhein there lay hidden a great treasure of gold, which for ages had belonged to the Rhein-daughters—three mermaids who guarded it.

Above the gold, in and out of the shadowy fissures, the beautiful fishwomen had swum and played happily, and the years had never made them old nor weary nor sad. There they frolicked and sang and feared nothing. The golden treasure was heaped high upon the rock in the middle of the river's bed, and it shone through the waters of the stream, always to cheer and delight them.

Now, one tragic day, while the daughters of the Rhein were darting gaily about their water home, a little dark imp came from Nibelheim—the underground land of the Nibelungs—and hid himself in the dark cleft of a rock to watch the mermaids play. In all the universe there was probably not so malevolent a creature as that one. His name was Alberich. Hidden in his dark nook, he blinked his rheumy eyes at the mermaids, envied them their beauty, and thought how he might approach them. Above, on the surface of the earth, it was twilight, and the reflection from the gold upon the rock was soft and a beautiful greenish hue. The mermaids, all covered with iridescent scales from waist to tail, glimmered through the waters in a most entrancing way. In that shimmering, changeful light they were in amazing contrast with the slimy, misshapen Alberich, who came from that underworld where only half-blind, ugly, and treacherous creatures live. The mermaids disported themselves quite unconscious of the imp's presence, till he laughed aloud, and then, startled, they swam in haste and affright to the rock where the gold lay stored.

"Look to our gold," Flosshilde cried in warning to her sisters.

"Aye! It was just such a creature as this, whom our father warned us against. What does he want here, I should like to know?" Woglinde screamed, swimming frantically to join her sisters.

"Can I not watch ye at play?" Alberich called, grinning diabolically. "Dive deeper,—here, near to me; I shall not harm ye."

At this they recovered a little from their fright, but instead of approaching the ugly fellow, they laughed at him and swam about, near enough to tantalize him.

"Only listen to the languishing imp," they laughed. "He thinks to join us in our sport."

"Why not swim down and torment him?" Flosshilde said. "He can never catch us—such a sluggish creature as he!"

"Hello!" Wellgunde cried; "Scramble up here, if you like." Alberich tried to join them, but he slipped and rolled about over the wet stones and cursed in a most terrible way.

"That is all very well, but I am not made for thy wet and slippery abode. The water makes me sneeze." He sneezed in a manner that set all the mermaids laughing till their scales shook. However, he at last reached the rock whereon the gold lay and he had no sooner got near than the sun shone out so brightly above, that the rays shot through the waters and reflected a beauteous gleam from the Rheingold. Alberich started back in amazement.

"What is that, ye sleek ones," he asked, "that gleams so brightly there?"

"What, imp! Dost thou not know the story of the Rheingold? Come, bathe in its glow and maybe it will take away a little of thy ugliness," one of the sisters cried.

"What do I care for the lustre of gold? It is the gold itself that I want."

"Well, the lustre is all that thou wilt get," Flosshilde answered him. "The one who would take our gold and hope to make of it the magic ring must forswear love forever. Who is there who would do that?" she called, swimming triumphantly toward the rock.

"What is the secret of thy ring that a man must forswear love for it?" Alberich asked craftily.

"The secret is, that he who would be so rash would have in return power over all the earth."

"What?" shouted the wretched Nibelung, "Well, then, since love has forsworn me, I shall lose nothing by forswearing love. I need not hesitate to use thy gold." Springing and clinging to the rock the Nibelung tore the gold from its resting place, dived deep into the river-bed and disappeared into the fissures of the earth. The mermaids followed frantically, but he was quite gone, and with him the beautiful gold, which till then had given only innocent pleasure to the Rhein-daughters. As soon as the gold vanished, the sun was hid, and the waters turned dark and gloomy. The waves began to grow black, rough, and high, while the water sank, sank, sank, till only darkness and a rushing sound could be seen or heard.

As the waves disappeared, a thick mist took their place, and soon separating, became detached clouds, till at last the sun shone forth again. As the cloudlets floated quite away a great mountain was revealed. The water had given place to the surface of the earth, and there, in the early morning light, lay Fricka, the Goddess of home and domesticity, and Wotan, the God of War, who was Fricka's husband. Behind them rose a great cliff and as the sun shone more and more brightly a splendid palace could be seen rising into the clouds. All its pinnacles sparkled in the sun's rays, while the river Rhein flowed peacefully between the mountain peak whereon the palace rose, and the hills where Wotan and his Goddess lay.

Scene II

Just as the sun arose, the Goddess Fricka lifted her head, and, looking behind her, saw the palace. It gave her a terrible fright, because it had not been there when she fell asleep.

"Look, Wotan!" she called loudly. "What do I see?" Wotan raised himself at her call. He gazed and was spellbound with delight.

"Walhall, the home of the Gods; the home of the Eternals!" he cried. "It appears as it did in my dreams."

"That which enraptures thee fills me with fear," Fricka replied sadly. "Hast thou not promised to give my sister Freia to the Giants who builded it for thee? Their task is done, and now they will claim their reward. Hast thou no feeling? Thou art cold and cruel, knowing nothing of tenderness and love!"

"How falsely thou accusest me," Wotan answered. "Did I not give an eye to win thee, Fricka?" He looked tenderly at her with his single, brilliant eye. "True, I have promised Freia to the Giants when they should have finished the palace, but I do not mean to keep that promise."

"How wilt thou evade it?" Fricka asked scornfully.

"Loge, the Spirit of Flame, shall prepare the way. He agreed to help me satisfy them in some other way and he will do it."

"Loge?" Fricka cried, still more scornfully. "That trickster! He is a fine one to look to. It was a sad day for us when thou didst rescue him from the underworld, where even his own did not trust him."

"He will keep his word," Wotan answered, confidently.

"Then it is time he appeared," the Goddess cried, "since here comes Freia, the giants after her, to demand the reward." At that moment, Freia, their Goddess sister, ran crying to Wotan to save her from Fasolt and Fafner, the Giants, who followed her with great strides.

"Save me, save me, brother," Freia cried.

"I shall save thee," Wotan answered, reassuringly. "Did not Loge promise to ransom thee? He will be here presently. Have no fear." Nevertheless Wotan, himself, was not too confident, and he looked anxiously for the Spirit of Flame. Meantime the Giants were striding over the mountain.

"Come now," they shouted, "while we wrought, ye slept. Give us our reward as promised and we shall be off."

"Well, what do ye want? Name a suitable reward and I shall give it to ye." Wotan answered, trying to pacify them.

"We want only what is promised, and we shall have it. We shall take the Goddess Freia." They struck the earth with their staves and roared loudly.

"Donner! Froh!" Freia shrieked to her brothers, and immediately they rushed upon the scene. Donner, the God of Thunder, carried a great hammer with which he woke the thunders. "Save me from Fasolt and Fafner," Freia cried.

"We'll save thee, sister," Froh answered, facing the Giants, while Donner menaced them with his thunders.

"You know the weight of my hammer's blow," he threatened, while the Giants laughed a horrible, rumbling laugh and Donner swung his hammer. Wotan feared the strife that would surely follow, and being a god of war, understood the value of diplomacy, as well as of force, so he interposed his spear between the Giants and Donner.

"Thy thunder is powerless against my spear, Donner. The whole world is shattered if only I interpose thus; so hold thy peace."

"Even Wotan abandons us," Fricka cried in despair. "Where is now thy fine Loge?"

"I can quench thy accursed Loge with only one blow of my hammer, which shall make the mists collect and the waters descend upon the earth till his fires are put out," Donner answered bitterly.

"Hold thy peace," Wotan commanded. "His cunning is worth all thy force and here he comes to straighten out this coil. Come, Loge," Wotan demanded, "thou hast promised to free us from this bargain; get thy wits to work."

"Alas, Wotan!" the tricky fellow replied, coming into their midst, "I have wandered everywhere for a substitute for the Goddess Freia, and have found none; but I have brought news of great misfortune, which thou art called upon to set right," he said, watching the Giants craftily out of the corner of his eye. "The Rhein-daughters have lost their gold. It has been stolen by a Nibelung, and with the golden treasure he can rule the world. The bargain with the Fates was: he who should forswear love forever would be able to make of the Rheingold a magic ring which would give him power over all the earth and over the Eternals as well. Alberich has done this and has stolen the gold."

Now, while the cunning Loge spoke, the Giants had been listening, and exchanging glances. When Loge had finished, Fafner spoke up:

"I would not mind having that gold for myself."

"How? Wouldst thou take it in exchange for Freia?" Wotan instantly asked.

"Have a care, brother," Fasolt interposed; "after all, a woman's love——"

"It will not gain for us what the Rheingold will gain," Fafner answered determinedly. "Wilt give us the gold for Freia?" he asked Wotan.

All the Gods fell to talking among themselves. Freia pleaded with Wotan, and Wotan reflected: the word "gold" made even the Gods tremble with pleasure. Why should Wotan not have the treasure for himself?

"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.