Operas Every Child Should Know Part 58

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 rus.h.i.+ng and a streaming light.

_Scene III_

Wotan regarded Brunnhilde 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.

"Brunnhilde, 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 pa.s.s 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 s.h.i.+ning s.h.i.+eld, 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 G.o.ds. Now, I summon thee to appear and wind thyself in wavering, dancing, fairy flame, about the fallen. Loge, I call!"

A little flas.h.i.+ng 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 G.o.d, 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 Brunnhilde 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 G.o.d of War pa.s.sed 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.

Brunnhilde.

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 s.n.a.t.c.hing 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 fas.h.i.+oned 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 G.o.d Wotan, who had seated himself upon the hearth, and was watching the Mime.