The Rhinegold & The Valkyrie. The Ring of the Niblung, part 1

What man came inAnd lies on the hearth?

[As Siegmund does not move, she draws nearer still and looks at him.

Way-worn, wearyHe seems and spent.Faints he from weariness?Can he be sick?

[She bends over him, and listens.

He breathes still, his eyelidsAre sealed but in slumber.Worthy, valiant his mien,Though so worn he rests.

SIEGMUND [Suddenly raising his head.

A drink! A drink!

SIEGLINDE

I go to fetch it.

[She takes a drinking-horn and hurries out. She returns with it full, and offers it to Siegmund.

Lo, the waterThy thirsting lips longed for:Water brought at thy wish!

[Siegmund drinks, and hands her back the horn. As he signifies his thanks with a movement of the head, he gazes at her with growing interest.

SIEGMUND

Welcome the water!Quenched is my thirst.My weary loadLighter it makes;New courage it gives;Mine eyes that sleptRe-open glad on the world.Who soothes and comforts me so?

SIEGLINDE

This house and this wifeBelong to Hunding.Stay thou here as his guest;Tarry till he comes home.

SIEGMUND

Shelter he surelyWill grant a worn,Wounded, weaponless stranger.

SIEGLINDE [With anxious haste.

Quick, show me! Where are thy wounds?

SIEGMUND

[Shakes himself and springs up briskly to a sitting posture.

My wounds are slight,Scarce worthy remark;My limbs are well knit still,Whole and unharmed.If my spear and shield had but beenHalf so strong as my arm is,I had vanquished the foe;But in splinters were spear and shield.The horde of foemenHarassed me sore;Through storm and strifeSpent was my force;But, faster than I from foemen,All my faintness has fled;Darkness fell deep on my lids,But now the sun again laughs.

SIEGLINDE

[Goes to the storeroom, fills a horn with mead, and proffers it to Siegmund with friendly eagerness.

This healing and honeyedDraught of meadDeign to accept from me.

SIEGMUND

Set it first to thy lips.

[Sieglinde sips from the horn and hands it back to him. Siegmund takes a long draught, regarding Sieglinde with increasing warmth. Still gazing, he takes the horn from his lips and lets it sink slowly, while his features express strong emotion. He sighs deeply, and lowers his gaze gloomily to the ground.

SIEGMUND [In a trembling voice.

Thou hast tended an ill-fated one!May all evilBe turned from thee!

[He starts up quickly, and goes towards the the back.

I have been solacedBy sweet repose:Onward now I must press.

SIEGLINDE [Turning round quickly.

Who pursues thee so close at thy heels?

SIEGMUND [Stops.

Bad luck pursues me,Everywhere follows;And where I lingerTrouble still finds me:Be thou preserved from its touch!I must not gaze but go.

[He strides hastily to the door and lifts the latch.

SIEGLINDE [Forgetting herself calls impetuously after him.

Then tarry here!Misfortune thou canst not bringTo those who abide with it!

SIEGLINDE

"This healing and honeyed

Draught of mead

Deign to accept from me."

SIEGMUND

"Set it first to thy lips."

SIEGMUND

[Deeply moved, remains standing; he looks searchingly at Sieglinde, who, ashamed and sad, lowers her eyes. Returning, he leans against the hearth, his gaze fixed on Sieglinde, who continues silently embarrassed.

Wehwalt named I myself:Hunding here will I wait for.

Sieglinde starts, listens and hears Hunding outside leading his horse to the stable. She hurries to the door and opens it. Hunding, armed with shield and spear, enters, but, perceiving Siegmund, pauses on the threshold. Hunding turns with a look of stern inquiry to Sieglinde.

SIEGLINDE [In answer to Hunding's look.

On the hearthFainting I foundOne whom need drove here.

HUNDING

Hast succoured him?

SIEGLINDE

I gave him, as a guest,Welcome and a drink.

SIEGMUND [Regarding Hunding firmly and calmly.

Drink she gave,Shelter too:Wouldst therefore chide the woman?

HUNDING

Sacred is my hearth:Sacred hold thou my house.

[To Sieglinde, as he takes off his armour and hands it to her.

Set the meal for us men!

[Sieglinde hangs up the arms on the stem of the ash-tree, fetches food and drink from the store-room and sets supper on the table. Involuntarily she turns her gaze on Siegmund again.

HUNDING

[Examining Siegmund's features keenly and with amaze, compares them with Sieglinde's. Aside.

How like to the woman!In his eye as wellGleams the guile of the serpent.

[He conceals his surprise, and turns with apparent unconcern to Siegmund.

Far, I trow,Must thou have fared;The man who rests hereRode no horse:What toilsome journeyMade thee so tired?

SIEGMUND

Through wood and meadow,Thicket and moor,Chased by the stormAnd peril sore,I ran by I know not what road.I know as littleWhat goal it led to,And I would gladly be told.

HUNDING [At table, inviting Siegmund to be seated.

'Tis Hunding ownsThe roof and roomWhich have harboured thee.If to the westwardThou wert to wend,In homesteads richThou wouldst find kinsmenWho guard the honour of Hunding.May I ask of my guestIn return to tell me his name?

[Siegmund, who has taken his seat at the table, looks thoughtfully before him. Sieglinde, who has placed herself beside Hunding and opposite Siegmund, gazes at him with evident sympathy and suspense.

Hunding discovers the likeness between Siegmund and Sieglinde.

HUNDING [Watching them both.

If thou wilt notTrust it to me,To this woman tell thy secret:See, how eagerly she asks!

SIEGLINDE [Unembarrassed and interested.

Gladly I'd knowWho thou art.

SIEGMUND [Looks up and, gazing into her eyes, begins gravely.

Not for me the name Friedmund;Frohwalt fain were I called,But forced was I to be Wehwalt.Wölfe they called my father;And I am one of twins:With a sister twin I was born.Soon lost wereBoth mother and maid;I hardly knewHer who gave me my life,Nor her with whom I was born.Warlike and strong was Wölfe,And never wanting for foes.A-hunting oftWent the son with the father.One day we returnedOutworn with the chaseAnd found the wolf's nest robbed.The brave abodeTo ashes was burnt,Consumed to dustThe flourishing oak,And dead was the mother,Dauntless but slain.No trace of the sisterWas ever found:The Neidungs' heartless hordeHad dealt us this bitter blow.My father fled,An outlaw with me;And the youthLived wild in the forestWith Wölfe for many years.Sore beset and harried were they,But boldly battled the pair of wolves.

[Turning to Hunding.

A Wölfing tells thee the tale,And a well-known Wölfing, I trow.

HUNDING

Wondrous and wild the storyTold by thee, valiant guest:Wehwalt—the Wölfing!I think that dark rumours anentThis doughty pair have reached me,Though unknown WölfeAnd Wölfing too.

SIEGLINDE

But tell me further, stranger:Where dwells thy father now?

SIEGMUND

The Neidungs, starting anew,Hounded and hunted us down;But slain by the wolvesFell many a hunter;They fled through the wood,Chased by the game:Like chaff we scattered the foe.But trace of my father I lost;Still his trail grew fainterThe longer I followed;In the wood a wolf-skinWas all I found;There empty it lay:My father I had lost.—In the woods I could not stay;My heart longed for men and for women.—By all I met,No matter where,If friend I sought,Or woman wooed,Still I was branded an outlaw;Ill-luck clung to me;Whatever I did right,Others counted it wrong;What seemed evil to meWon from others applause.Grim feuds aroseWherever I went;Wrath met meAt every turn;Longing for gladness,Woe was my lot:I called myself Wehwalt therefore,For woe was all that was mine.

[He looks at Sieglinde and marks her sympathetic gaze.

HUNDING

Thou wert shown no grace by the NornsThat cast thy grievous lot;No one greets thee as guestWith gladness in his home.

SIEGLINDE

Only cowards would fearA weaponless, lonely man!—Tell us, O guest,How in the strifeAt last thy weapon was lost!

SIEGMUND

A sorrowful childCried for my help;Her kinsmen wantedTo wed the maidenTo one whom her heart did not choose.To her defenceGladly I hied;The heartless hordeMet me in fight:Before me foemen fell.Fordone and dead lay the brothers.The slain were embraced by the maid,Her wrongs forgotten in grief.She wept wild streams of woe,And bathed the dead with her tears;For the loss of her brothers slainLamented the ill-fated bride.Then the dead men's kinsmenCame like a storm,Vowing vengeance,Frantic to fall on me;Foemen on all sidesRose and assailed me.But from the spotMoved not the maid;My shield and spearSheltered her long,Till spear and shieldWere hewn from my hand.Standing weaponless, wounded,I beheld the maid die:I fled from the furious host—She lay lifeless on the dead.

[To Sieglinde with a look of fervent sorrow.

The reason now I have toldWhy none may know me as Friedmund.

[He rises and walks to the hearth. Pale and deeply moved, Sieglinde looks on the ground.

HUNDING [Rises.

I know a wild-blooded breed;What others revereIt flouts unawed:All hate it, and I with the rest.When forth in haste I was summoned,Vengeance to seekFor my kinsmen's blood,I came too late,And now return homeTo find the impious wretchIn haven under my roof.—My house holds thee,Wölfing, to-day;For the night thou art my guest.But wield to-morrowThy trustiest weapon.I choose the day for the fight:Thy life shall pay for the dead.

[To Sieglinde, who steps between the two men with anxious gestures; harshly.

Forth from the hall!Linger not here!Prepare my draught for the night,And wait until I come.

[Sieglinde stands for a while undecided and thoughtful. Slowly and with hesitating steps she goes towards the store-room, There she pauses again, lost in thought, her face half averted. With quiet resolution she opens the cupboard, fills a drinking-horn, and shakes spices into it out of a box. She then turns her eyes on Siegmund, in order to meet his gaze, which he never removes from her. She perceives that Hunding is watching, and proceeds immediately to the bed-chamber. On the steps she turns once more, looks yearningly at Siegmund, and indicates with her eyes, persistently and with speaking plainness, a particular spot in the stem of the ash-tree. Hunding starts, and drives her off with a violent gesture. With a last look at Siegmund, she disappears into the bed-chamber, and shuts the door behind her.

HUNDING [Taking his weapons from the tree-stem.

With weapons man should be armed.We meet to-morrow then Wölfing.My word thou hast heard;Ward thyself well!

[He goes into bed-chamber. The shooting of the bolt is heard from within.

[Siegmund alone. It has grown quite dark. All the light in the hall comes from a dull fire on the hearth. Siegmund sinks down on to a couch beside the fire and broods forsome time silently in great agitation.

SIEGMUND

My father said when most wantedA sword I should find and wield.Swordless I enteredMy foeman's house,As a hostage hereI remain.I saw a fairWoman and sweet,And bliss and dreadConsume my heart.The woman for whom I long—She whose charm both wounds anddelights—In thrall is held by the manWho mocks a weaponless foe.Wälse! Wälse!Where is thy sword?—The trusty swordTo be swung in battle,When from my bosom should burstThe fury that fills my heart?

[The fire collapses. From the flame which leaps up a bright light falls on the spot in the ash-tree's stem indicated by Sieglinde's look, and on which the hilt of a sword is now plainly visible.

Sieglinde prepares Hunding's draught for the night

What can that beThat shines so bright?What a ray streamsFrom the ash-tree's stem!My eyes that saw notSee the bright flash;Gay as laughter it gleams.How the radiant lightIllumes my heart!Is it the lookThat lingered behind,Yonder clinging,When forth from the hallThe lovely woman went?

[From this point the fire gradually goes out.

Darkly the shadowsCovered my eyes,Till her shining glanceOver me gleamed,Bringing me warmth and day.Gay and splendidThe sun appeared,And blissfully circledWith glory my head—Till by the hills it was hid.

[The fire flickers up faintly again.

But once more, ere it set,Bright it shone upon me,And the ancient ash-tree's stemWas lit by its golden glow.The splendour passes,The light grows dim,Shadowy darknessFalls and enshrouds me;Deep in my bosom's fastnessGlimmers still faintly the flame!

[The fire goes out altogether. Total darkness. The door of the bed-chamber opens noiselessly. Sieglinde comes out in a white garment and advances softly but quickly towards the hearth.

SIEGLINDE

Art asleep?

SIEGMUND [Joyfully surprised.

Who steals this way?

SIEGLINDE [With stealthy haste.

'Tis I: listen to me!In sleep profound lies Hunding;The draught that I mixed him I drugged.Use to good purpose the night!

SIEGMUND [Ardently interrupting.

Thou here, all is well!

SIEGLINDE

I have come to show thee a weapon;O couldst thou make it thine!I then might call theeFirst among heroes,For only by himCan it be won.O hearken: heed what I tell thee!Here Hunding's kinsmenSat in the hall,Assembled to honour his wedding.He took as his wife,Against her will,One who was bartered by thieves.Sad I sat thereThrough their carousing.A stranger entered the hall,An old and grey-coated man.So slouched was his hatThat one of his eyes was hidden;But the other flashedSo that all feared it:OverwhelmingIts menace they found;I aloneSuffered, when looked on,Sweet pain, sad delight,Sorrow and solace in one.On me glancing,He scowled at the others,As he swung a sword in his hands.This sword he plungedIn the ash-tree's stem,To the hilt driving it home.The weapon he gains in guerdonWho draws it from its place.Though sore they struggled,Not one of the heroesCould win the weapon for his;Coming, going,The guests essayed it,The strongest tugged at the steel;Not an inch it stirred in the stem;In silence yonder it cleaves.I knew then who he wasThat in sorrow greeted me.I know tooNow for whomThe sword was stuck in the tree.O might I to-dayFind here the friendBrought from afarBy a woman's woe!Then all I have sufferedIn sorrow untold,All scorn and all shameIn anger endured—All would avenged be,Sweetly atoned for—Regained fullyThe good I had lost;For mine I should winAll I had wept for,Could I but find the dear friend,And clasp him close in my arms!

SIEGFRIED [Embracing Sieglinde with passionate ardour.

Dear woman, that friendHolds thee at last,Both woman and sword are his.Here in my breastBurns hot the oathThat welds us twain into one.For all that I soughtI see now in thee,In thee allThat once failed me I find.Thou wert despised,My portion was pain;I was an outlaw,Dishonoured wert thou;Sweet revenge beckons,Bids us be joyful;I laughFrom sheer fulness of joy,Holding thee, love, in my arms thus,Feeling the beat of thy heart!

[The outer door swings open.

SIEGLINDE [With a start of alarm tears herself away.

Ha, who went? Who entered there?

[The door remains open. Outside a glorious spring night. The full moon shines in, throwing its bright light on the pair, so that they can suddenly see one another quite plainly.

SIEGMUND [In soft ecstasy.

No one went—But one has come:Laughing the springEnters the hall!

[He draws Sieglinde with tender force on to the couch, so that she sits beside him. The moon shines more and more brightly.

Winter storms have yieldedTo May's sweet moon,And mild and radiantSparkles the spring.On balmy breezesLight and lovely,Weaving wonders,Soft she sways.Through field and forestShe is breathing;Wide and openLaughs her eye;When blithe the birds are singingSounds her voice;Fragrant odoursShe exhales;From her warm blood blossom flowersWelcome and joyous.Shoot and bud,They wax by her aid.With tender weapons armed,She conquers the world.Winter and storm yieldTo the strong attack.No wonder that, beaten boldly,At last the door should have opened,Which, stubborn and stiff,Was keeping her out.To find her sisterHither she came;By love has spring been allured;Within our bosomsBuried she lay;Now glad she laughs to the light.The bride who is sisterIs freed by the brother;In ruin liesWhat held them apart.Loud rejoicing,They meet and greet;Lo! Love is mated with spring!

SIEGLINDE

Thou art the springThat I used to pine for,When pinched by the winter frost;My heart hailed thee friendWith bliss and with fear,When thy first glance fell on me sweetlyAll I had seen appeared strange;Friendless were my surroundings;I never seemed to have knownAny one who came nigh.Thee, however,Straightway I knew,And I saw thou wert mineWhen I beheld thee:What I hid in my heart,All I am,Clear as the dayDawned to my sightLike tones to the earEchoing back,When, upon my frosty desert,My eyes first beheld a friend.

[She hangs enraptured on his neck, and looks him close in the face.

SIEGMUND [Transported.

O rapture most blissful!Woman most blest!

SIEGLINDE [Close to his eyes.

O let me, closerAnd closer clinging,Discern more clearlyThe sacred lightThat from thine eyesAnd face shines forth,And so sweetly sways every sense!

SIEGMUND

The May-moon's lightFalls on thy faceFramed by massesOf waving hair.What snared my heart'Tis easy to guess:My gaze on loveliness feasts.

SIEGLINDE

[Pushing the hair back from his brow, regards him with astonishment.

How broad and openIs thy brow!Blue-branching the veinsIn thy temples entwine.I hardly can endureMy burden of bliss.—Of something I am reminded:—The man I first saw to-dayAlready I have seen!

SIEGMUND

A dream of loveI too recall;I saw thee thereAnd yearned for thee sore!

SIEGLINDE

The stream has shown meMy imaged face—Again I see it before me;As in the pool it aroseIt is reflected by thee.

SIEGMUND

Thine is the faceI hid in my heart.

SIEGLINDE [Quickly averting her gaze.

O hush! That voice!O let me listen!These tones as a childSurely I heard—But no! I heard the sound lately,When, calling in the wood,My voice re-echoing rang.

SIEGMUND

To sweet and melodiousMusic I listen!

SIEGLINDE [Gazing into his eyes again.

And ere now thy glowingEye have I seen:The old man whose glanceSolaced my grief,When he greeted me had that eye—I knew himBecause of his eye,And almost addressed him as father.

[After a pause.

Art thou Wehwalt in truth?

SIEGMUND

If dear to thee,Wehwalt no more;My sway is o'er bliss not sorrow!

SIEGLINDE

And Friedmund does notFit with thy fortunes.

SIEGMUND

Choose thou the nameThou wouldst have me be known by:Thy choice will also be mine!

SIEGLINDE

The name of thy father was Wölfe?

SIEGMUND

A wolf to the fearful foxes!But he whose eyeShone with the brightnessWhich, fairest one, shines in thine own,Was named—Wälse of old.

SIEGLINDE [Beside herself.

Was Wälse thy father,And art thou a Wälsung?—Stuck was for theeHis sword in the stem?—Then let my love call theeWhat it has found thee;SiegmundShall be thy name.

SIEGMUND [Springs up.

Siegmund call meFor Siegmund am I!Be witness this swordI grasp without shrinking!That I should find itIn sorest needWälse foretold.I grasp it now!Love the most pureIn utmost need,Passionate love,Consuming desireBurning bright in my breast,Drive to deeds and death!Nothung! Nothung!That, sword, is thy name.Nothung! Nothung!Conquering steel!Show me thy sharpAnd sundering tooth:Come forth from thy scabbard to me!

[He draws the sword with a violent effort from the stem of the tree and shows it to the amazed and enraptured Sieglinde.

Siegmund the WälsungThou dost see!As bride-giftHe brings thee this sword;With this he freesThe woman most blest;He bears theeFrom the house of his foe.Far from hereFollow thou him:Forth to the laughingHouse of the spring;Thy shield be Nothung, the sword,When Siegmund is captive to love!

[He throws his arm round her so as to draw her forth with him.

SIEGLINDE [Delirious with excitement, tears herself away and stands before him.

Art thou SiegmundStanding before me,Sieglinde am IWho longed for thee;Thy own twin-sisterAs well as the sword thou hastwon!

[She throws herself on his breast.

SIEGMUND

Bride and sisterBe to thy brother—So Wälsungs shall flourish for aye!

[He draws her to him with fervent passion. The curtain falls quickly.

THE SECOND ACT

A wild, mountainous spot. In the background a gorge rises from below to a high ridge of rocks, from which the ground slopes down again towards the front. Wotan, in full armour, carrying his spear. Before him Brünnhilde as a Valkyrie, also fully armed.

WOTAN

Go bridle thy steed,Valorous maid!Bitter strifeSoon will break forth;Brünnhilde, storm to the frayAnd cause the Wälsung to win!Hunding choose for himselfWhere to bide:No place in Walhall has he.So up and to horse!Haste to the field!

BRÜNNHILDE [Ascends the height on the right, shouting and springing from rock to rock.

Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Heiaha! Heiaha!Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Heiaha! Heiaha!Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Heiaha! Hojoho!

"Siegmund the Wälsung

Thou dost see!

As bride-gift

He brings thee this sword"

[She pauses on a high peak, looks down into the gorge and calls back to Wotan.

I warn thee, Father,See to thyself;Stern the strifeThat is in store:Here comes Fricka, thy wife,Drawn hither in her car by her rams,Swinging the goldenScourge in her hand!The wretched beastsAre groaning with fear;And how the wheels rattle!Hot she hastes to the fray.Such strife as thisNo strife is for me,Though I love boldly wagedStrife 'twixt men.The battle alone thou must brave;I go; thou art left in the lurch!Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Heiaha! Heiaha!Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Heiaha! Heiaha!Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Hojotoho! Hojotoho!Heiaha! Ha!

[She disappears behind the mountain peak at the side. Fricka, in a car drawn by a pair of rams, has driven up the gorge to the mountain ridge, where she suddenly stops, alights and strides angrily towards Wotan in the foreground.

WOTAN [Aside, when he sees Fricka approaching.

The usual storm!The usual strife!But I must act with firmness

FRICKA [Moderating her pace as she approaches, and confronting Wotan with dignity.

All alone among the hillsI seek thee, where thou dost hideFearing the eyesOf thy wife,That help in need thou may'st promise.

WOTAN

Let Fricka tellHer trouble in full.

FRICKA

I have heard Hunding's cry,For vengeance calling on me;As wedlock's guardianI gave ear:My word passedTo punish the deedOf this impious pairWho boldly wrought him the wrong.

WOTAN

Have this pair thenDone such harm,Whom spring united in love?'Twas love's sweet magicThat lured them on;None pays for love's might to me.

FRICKA

How dull and how deaf thou wouldst seem!As though thou wert not awareThat it is wedlock'sHoly oathProfaned so rudely I grieve for.

WOTAN

UnholyHold I the bondThat binds unloving hearts;Nor must thouImagine that IWill restrain by forceWhat transcends thy power;For where bold natures are stirringI urge them frankly to strife.

Brünnhilde