Siegfried & The Twilight of the Gods. The Ring of the Niblung, part 2

Richard Wagner

Siegfried & The Twilight of the Gods / The Ring of the Niblung, part 2

SIEGFRIED

CHARACTERS

SIEGFRIED

MIME

THE WANDERER

ALBERICH

FAFNER

ERDA

BRÜNNHILDE

SCENES OF ACTION

I. A CAVE IN A WOOD

II. DEPTHS OF THE WOOD

III. WILD REGION AT THE FOOT OF A ROCKY MOUNTAIN; AFTERWARDS: SUMMIT OF "BRÜNNHILDE'S ROCK"

THE FIRST ACT

A rocky cavern in a wood, in which stands a naturally formed smith's forge, with big bellows. Mime sits in front of the anvil, busily hammering at a sword.

MIME

[Who has been hammering with a small hammer, stops working.

Slavery! worry!Labour all lost!The strongest swordThat ever I forged,That the hands of giantsFitly might wield,This insolent urchinFor whom it is fashionedCan snap in two at one stroke,As if the thing were a toy!

[Mime throws the sword on the anvil ill-humouredly, and with his arms akimbo gazes thoughtfully on the ground.

There is one swordThat he could not shatter:Nothung's splintersWould baffle his strength,Could I but forgeThose doughty fragmentsThat all my skillCannot weld anew.Could I but forge the weapon,Shame and toil would win their reward!

[He sinks further back his head bowed in thought.

Fafner, the dragon grim,Dwells in the gloomy wood;With his gruesome and grisly bulkThe Nibelung hoardYonder he guards.Siegfried, lusty and young,Would slay him without ado;The Nibelung's ringWould then become mine.The only sword for the deedWere Nothung, if it were swungBy Siegfried's conquering arm;And I cannot fashionNothung, the sword!

[He lays the sword in position again, and goes on hammering in deep dejection.

Slavery! worry!Labour all lost!The strongest swordThat ever I forgedWill never serveFor that difficult deed.I beat and I hammerOnly to humour the boy;He snaps in two what I make,And scolds if I cease from work.

[He drops his hammer.

SIEGFRIED

[In rough forester's dress, with a silver horn hung by a chain, bursts in boisterously from the wood. He is leading a big bear by a rope of bast, and urges him towards Mime in wanton fun.

Hoiho! Hoiho!

[Entering.

Come on! Come on!Tear him! Tear him!The silly smith!

[Mime drops the sword in terror, and takes refuge behind the forge; while Siegfried, shouting with laughter, keeps driving the bear after him.

MIME

Hence with the beast!I want not the bear!

SIEGFRIED

I come thus pairedThe better to pinch thee;Bruin, ask for the sword!

MIME

Hey! Let him go!There lies the weapon;It was finished to-day.

SIEGFRIED

Then thou art safe for to-day!

[He lets the bear loose and strikes him on the back with the rope.

Off, Bruin!I need thee no more.

[The bear runs back into the wood.

MIME [Comes trembling from behind the forge.

Slay all the bearsThou canst, and welcome;But why thus bring the beastsHome alive?

SIEGFRIED

[Sits down to recover from his laughter.

For better companions seekingThan the one who sits at home,I blew my horn in the wood,Till the forest glades resounded.What I asked with the noteWas if some good friendMy glad companion would be.From the covert came a bearWho listened to me with growls,And I liked him better than thee,Though better friends I shall find.With a trusty ropeI bridled the beast,To ask thee, rogue, for the weapon.

[He jumps up and goes towards the anvil.

MIME

[Takes up the sword to hand it to Siegfried.

I made the sword keen-edged;In its sharpness thou wilt rejoice.

[He holds the sword anxiously in his hand; Siegfried snatches it from him.

What matters an edge keen sharpened,Unless hard and true the steel?

[Testing the sword.

Hei! What an idle,Foolish toy!Wouldst have this pinPass for a sword?

[He strikes it on the anvil, so that the splinters fly about. Mime shrinks back in terror.

There, take back the pieces,Pitiful bungler!'Tis on thy skullIt should have been broken!Shall such a braggartStill go on boasting,Telling of giantsAnd prowess in battle,Of deeds of valour,And dauntless defence?—A sword true and trustyTry to forge me,Praising the skillHe does not possess?When I take holdOf what he has hammered,The rubbish crumblesAt a mere touch!Were not the wretchToo mean for my wrath,I would break him in bitsAs well as his work—The doting fool of a gnome!—And end the annoyance at once!

[Siegfried throws himself on to a stone seat in a rage. Mime all the time has been cautiously keeping out of his way.

MIME

Again thou ravest like mad,Ungrateful and perverse.If what for him I forgeIs not perfect on the spot,Too soon the boy forgetsThe good things I have made!Wilt never learn the lessonOf gratitude, I wonder?Thou shouldst be glad to obey himWho always treated thee well.

[Siegfried turns his back on Mime in a bad temper, and sits with his face to the wall.

Thou dost not like to be told that!

[He stands perplexed, then goes to the hearth in the kitchen.

But thou wouldst fain be fed.Wilt eat the meat I have roasted,Or wouldst thou prefer the broth?'Twas boiled solely for thee.

[He brings food to Siegfried, who, without turning round, knocks both bowl and meat out of his hand.

SIEGFRIED

Meat I roast for myself;Sup thy filthy broth alone!

MIME [In a wailing voice, as if hurt.

This is the rewardOf all my love!All my careIs paid for with scorn.When thou wert a babeI was thy nurse,Made the mite clothingTo keep him warm,Brought thee thy food,Gave thee to drink,Kept thee as safeAs I keep my skin;And when thou wert grownI waited on thee,And made a bedFor thy slumber soft.I fashioned thee toysAnd a sounding horn,Grudging no pains,Wert thou but pleased.With counsel wiseI guided thee well,With mellow wisdomTraining thy mind.Sitting at home,I toil and moil;To heart's desireWander thy feet.Through thee alone worried,And working for thee,I wear myself out,A poor old dwarf!

[Sobbing.

And for my troubleThe sole reward isBy a hot-tempered boy

[Sobbing.

To be hated and plagued!

SIEGFRIED

[Has turned round again and has quietly watched Mime's face, while the latter, meeting the look, tries timidly to hide his own.

Thou hast taught me much, Mime,And many things I have learned;But what thou most gladly hadst taught meA lesson too hard has proved—How to endure thy sight.When with my foodOr drink thou dost come,I sup off loathing alone;When thou dost softlyMake me a bed,My sleep is broken and bad;When thou wouldst teach meHow to be wise,Fain were I deaf and dumb.If my eyes happenTo fall on thee,I find all thou doestAmiss and ill-done;When thou dost stand,Waddle and walk,Shamble and shuffle,With thine eyelids blinking,By the neck I wantTo take the nodder,And choke the lifeFrom the hateful twitcher.So much, O Mime, I love thee!Hast thou such wisdom,Explain, I pray thee,A thing I have wondered at:Though I go roamingJust to avoid thee,Why do I always return?Though I love the beastsAll better than thee—Tree and birdAnd the fish in the brook,One and allThey are dearer than thou—How is it I always return?Of thy wisdom tell me that.

MIME

[Tries to approach him affectionately.

My child, that ought to show theeThat Mime is dear to thy heart.

SIEGFRIED

I said I could not bear thee;Forget not that so soon.

MIME

[Recoils, and sits down again apart, opposite Siegfried.]

The wildness that thou shouldst tameIs the cause, bad boy, of that.Young ones are always longingAfter their parents' nest;What we love we all long for,And so thou dost yearn for me;'Tis plain thou lovest thy Mime,And always must love him.What the old bird is to the young one,Feeding it in its nestEre the fledgling can flutter,That is what careful, clever MimeTo thy young life is,And always must be.

SIEGFRIED

Well, Mime, being so clever,This one thing more also tell me:

[Simply.

The birds sang togetherSo gaily in spring,

[Tenderly.

The one alluring the other;And thou didst say,When I asked thee why,That they were wives with their husbands.They chattered so sweetly,Were never apart;They builded a nestIn which they might brood;The fluttering young onesCame flying out,And both took care of the young.The roes in the woods, too,Rested in pairs,The wild wolves even, and foxes.Food was found them and broughtBy the father,The mother suckled the young ones.And there I learnedWhat love was like;A whelp from its motherI never took.But where hast thou, Mime,A wife dear and loving,That I may call her mother?

MIME [Angrily.

What dost thou mean?Fool, thou art mad!Art thou then a bird or a fox?

SIEGFRIED

When I was a babeThou wert my nurse,Made the mite clothingTo keep him warm;But tell me, whenceDid the tiny mite come?Could babe without motherBe born to thee?

MIME [Greatly embarrassed.

Thou must alwaysTrust what I tell thee.I am thy fatherAnd mother in one.

SIEGFRIED

Thou liest, filthy old fright!The resemblance 'twixt child and parentI often have seen for myself.I came to the limpid brook,And the beasts and the treesI saw reflected;Sun and clouds too,Just as they are,Were mirrored quite plain in the stream.I also could spyThis face of mine,And quite unlike thineSeemed it to me;As little alikeAs a fish to a toad:And when had fish toad for its father?

MIME [Very angrily.

How canst thou talkSuch terrible stuff?

SIEGFRIED [With increasing animation.

Listen! At lastI understandWhat in vain I pondered so long:Why I roam the woodsAnd run to escape thee,Yet return home in the end.

[He springs up.

I cannot go till thou tell meWhat father and mother were mine.

MIME

What father? What mother?Meaningless questions!

SIEGFRIED

[Springs upon Mime, and seizes him by the throat.

To answer a questionThou must be caught first;WillinglyThou never wilt speak;Thou givest nothingUnless forced to.How to talkI hardly had learnedHad it not by forceBeen wrung from the wretch.Come, out with it,Mangy old scamp!Who are my father and mother?

MIME

[After making signs with his head and hands, is released by Siegfried.

Dost want to kill me outright!Hands off, and the facts thou shalt hear,As far as known to myself.O ungratefulAnd graceless child,Now learn the cause of thy hatred!Neither thy fatherNor kinsman I,And yet thou dost owe me thy life!To me, thy one friend,A stranger wert thou;It was pity aloneSheltered thee here;And this is all my reward.And I hoped for thanks like a fool!A woman once I foundWho wept in the forest wild;I helped her here to the cave,That by the fire I might warm her.The woman bore a child here;Sadly she gave it birth.She writhed about in pain;I helped her as I could.Bitter her plight; she died.But Siegfried lived and throve.

SIEGFRIED [Slowly.

My poor mother died, then, through me?

MIME

To my care she commended thee;'Twas willingly bestowed.The trouble Mime would take!The worry kind Mime endured!"When thou wert a babeI was thy nurse...."

SIEGFRIED

That story I often have heard.Now say, whence came the nameSiegfried?

MIME

'Twas thus that thy motherTold me to name thee,That thou mightst growTo be strong and fair."I made the mite clothingTo keep it warm...."

SIEGFRIED

Now tell me, what name was my mother's?

MIME

In truth I hardly know."Brought thee thy food,Gave thee to drink...."

SIEGFRIED

My mother's name thou must tell me.

MIME

Her name I forget. Yet wait!Sieglinde, that was the name borneBy her who gave thee to me."I kept thee as safeAs I keep my skin...."

SIEGFRIED

[With increasing urgency.

Next tell me, who was my father?

MIME [Roughly.

Him I have never seen.

SIEGFRIED

But my mother told it thee, surely.

MIME

He fell in combatWas all that she said.She left the fatherlessBabe to my care."And when thou wert grownI waited on thee,And made a bedFor thy slumber soft"…

SIEGFRIED

Still, with thy tiresomeStarling song!That I may trust thy story,Convinced thou art not lying,Thou must produce some proof.

MIME

But what proof will convince thee?

SIEGFRIED

I trust thee not with my ears,I trust thee but with mine eyes:What witness speaks for thee?

MIME

[After some thought takes from the place where they are concealed the two pieces of a broken sword.

I got this from thy mother:For trouble, food, and serviceThis was my sole reward.Behold, 'tis a splintered sword!She said 'twas borne by thy fatherIn the fatal fight when he fell.

SIEGFRIED [Enthusiastically.

And thou shalt forgeThese fragments together,And furnish my rightful sword!Up! Tarry not, Mime;Quick to thy task!If thou hast skill,Thy cunning display.Cheat me no moreWith worthless trash;These fragments aloneHenceforth I trust.Lounge o'er thy work,Weld it not true,Trickily patchingThe goodly steel,And thou shalt learn on thy limbsHow metal best should be beat!I swear that this dayThe sword shall be mine;My weapon to-day I shall win!

MIME [Alarmed.

What wouldst thou to-day with the sword?

SIEGFRIED

Leave the forestFor the wide world,Never more to return.Ah, how fairA thing is freedom!Nothing holds me or binds!No father have I here,And afar shall be my home;Thy hearth is not my house,Nor my covering thy roof.Like the fishGlad in the water,Like the finchFree in the heavens,Off I will float,Forth I will fly,Like the wind o'er the woodWafted away,Thee, Mime, beholding no more!

[He runs into the forest.

MIME [Greatly alarmed.

Stop, boy! Stop, boy!Whither away?Hey! Siegfried!Siegfried! Hey!

[He looks after the retreating figure for some time in astonishment; then he goes back to the smithy and sits down behind the anvil.

He storms away!And I sit here:To crown my caresComes still this new one;My plight is piteous indeed!How help myself now?How hold the boy here?How lead the young madcapTo Fafner's lair?And how weld the splintersOf obstinate steel?In no furnace fireCan they be melted,Nor can Mime's hammerCope with their hardness.

[Shrilly.

The Nibelung's hate,Need and sweatCannot make Nothung whole,Never will weld it anew.

[Sobbing, he sinks in despair on to a stool behind the anvil.

WANDERER (WOTAN)

[Enters from the wood by the door at the back of the cave. He wears a long dark blue cloak, and, for staff, carries a spear. On his head is a round, broad-brimmed slouched hat.

All hail, cunning smith!A seat by thy hearthKindly grantThe wayworn guest.

MIME [Starting up in alarm.

Who seeks for me hereIn desolate woods,Finds my home in the forest wild?

WANDERER [Approaching very slowly step by step.

Wanderer names me the world, smith.From far I have come;On the earth's back ranging,Much I have roamed.

MIME

If Wanderer named,Pray wander from hereWithout halting for rest.

WANDERER

Good men grudge me not welcome;Many gifts I have received.By bad hearts onlyIs evil feared.

MIME

Ill fate alwaysDwelt by my side;Thou wouldst not add to it, surely!

WANDERER [Slowly coming nearer and nearer.

Always searching,Much have I seen;Things of weightHave told to many;Oft have rid menOf their troubles,Gnawing and carking cares.

MIME

Though thou hast searched,And though much thou hast found,I need neither seeker nor finder.Lonely am I,And lone would be;Idlers I harbour not here.

WANDERER [Again coming a little nearer.

There were manyThought they were wise,Yet what they neededKnew not at all;Useful lore wasTheirs for the asking,Wisdom was their reward.

MIME

[More and more anxious as he sees the Wanderer approach.

Idle knowledgeSome may covet;I know enough for my needs.

[The Wanderer reaches the hearth.

My own wits suffice,I want no more,So, wise one, keep on thy way.

WANDERER [Sitting down at the hearth.

Nay, here at thy hearthI vow by my headTo answer all thou shalt ask.My head is thine,'Tis forfeit to thee,Unless I can giveAnswers good,Deftly redeeming the pledge.

MIME

[Who has been staring at the Wanderer open-mouthed, now shrinks back; aside, dejectedly.

Now how to get rid of the spy?The questions asked must be artful.

[He summons up courage for an assumption of sternness; aloud.

Thy head for thyLodging pays:'Tis pawned; now seek to redeem it.Three the questionsThou shalt be asked.

WANDERER

Thrice then I must answer.

MIME [Pulls himself together and reflects.

Since, far on the backOf the wide earth roving,Thy feet have ranged o'er the world,Come, answer me this:Tell me what raceDwells in the earth's deep gorges.

WANDERER

In the depths of earthThe Nibelungs have their home;Nibelheim is their land.Black elves they all are;Black AlberichOnce was their ruler and lord.He subdued the busyFolk by a ringGifted with magical might;And they piled upShimmering gold,Precious, fine-wrought,To win him the world and its glory.Proceed with thy questions, dwarf.

MIME

[Sinks into deeper and deeper meditation.

Thou knowest much,Wanderer,Of the hidden depths of earth.Now, answer me this:Tell me what raceBreathes on earth's back and moves there.

WANDERER

On the earth's broad backThe race of the giants arose;Riesenheim is their land.Fasolt and Fafner,The rude folk's rulers,Envied the Nibelung's might.So his wonderful hoardThey won for themselves,And with it gained the ring too.The brothers quarrelledAbout the ring,And slain was Fasolt.In dragon's formFafner now watches the hoard.One question threatens me still.

MIME [Quite lost in thought.

Much, Wanderer,Thou dost knowOf the earth's back rude and rugged.Now answer aright:Tell me what raceDwells above in the clouds.

WANDERER

Above in the cloudsDwell the Immortals;Walhall is their home.They are light-spirits;Light-Alberich,Wotan, rules as their lord.From the world-ash-tree'sHoliest bough onceWotan made him a shaft.Though the stem rot,The spear shall endure,And with that spear-pointWotan rules the world.Trustworthy runesOf holy treatiesDeep in the shaft he cut.Who wields the spearCarried by WotanThe haft of the worldHolds in his hand.Before him kneelsThe Nibelung host;The giants, tamed,Bow to his will.All must obey, and for ever,The spear's eternal lord.

[He strikes the ground with the spear as if by accident, and a low growl of thunder is heard, by which Mime is violently alarmed.

Confess now, cunning dwarf,Are not my answers right,And is not my head redeemed?

MIME

[After attentively watching the Wanderer with the spear, becomes very frightened, seeks in a confused manner for his tools, and looks timidly aside.

Both thou hast won,Wager and head;Thy way now, Wanderer, go.

WANDERER

Knowledge useful to theeThou wert to ask for;Forfeit my head if I failed.Forfeit be thine,Knowest thou notThe thing it would serve thee to know.Greeting thouGavest me not;My head into thy handI gaveThat I might rest by thy hearth.By wager fairForfeit thy head,Canst thou not answerThree things when asked;So sharpen well, Mime, thy wits!

MIME

[Very much frightened, and after much hesitation, at last composes himself with timid submission.

Long it isSince I left my land;Long it seems to meSince I was born.I saw here the eye of WotanShine, peering into my cave;His glance dazesMy mother-wit.But well were it now to be wise.Come then, Wanderer, ask.Perhaps fortune will favourThe dwarf, and redeem his head.

WANDERER [Comfortably sitting down again.

Then first, honest dwarf,Answer this question:Tell the name of the raceThat Wotan treats most harshly,

[Very softly, but audibly.

And yet loves beyond all the rest.

MIME [With more cheerfulness.

Though unlearnèdIn heroes' kinship,This question I answer with ease.The Wälsungs are Wotan'sChosen stock,By him begottenAnd loved with passion,Though they are shown no grace.Siegmund and SieglindeBorn were to Wälse,A wild and desperateTwin-born pair;Siegfried had they as son,The strongest shoot from the tree.My head, say, is itStill, Wanderer, mine?

WANDERER [Pleasantly.

How well thou knowestAnd namest the race!Rogue, I see thou art clever.The foremost questionThou hast solved;The second answer me, dwarf.A crafty NiblungShelters Siegfried,Hoping he will slay Fafner,That the dwarf may be lord of the hoard,The ring being his.Say, what sword,If Fafner to fall is,Must be by Siegfried swung?

MIME

[Forgetting his present situation more and more, rubs his hands joyfully.

Nothung isThe name of the sword;Into an ash-tree's stemWotan struck it;One only might bear it:He who could draw it forth.The strongest heroesTried it and failed;Only by SiegmundWas it done;Well he fought with the swordTill on Wotan's spear it was split.By a crafty smithAre the fragments kept,For he knows that aloneWith the Wotan swordA brave and foolish boy,Siegfried, can slay the foe.

[Much pleased.

A second timeMy head have I saved?

WANDERER [Laughing.

The wisest of wise onesThou must be, surely;Who else could so clever be!But wouldst thou by craftEmploy the boy-heroAs instrument of thy purpose,With one question moreI threaten thee.Tell me, thou artfulArmourer,Whose skill from the doughty splintersNothung the sword shall fashion.

MIME [Starts up in great terror.

The splinters! The sword!Alas! my head reels!What shall I do?What can I say?Accursèd sword!I was mad to steal it!A perilous passIt has brought me to.Always too hardTo yield to my hammer!Rivet, solder—Useless are both.

[He throws his tools about as if he had gone crazy, and breaks out in utter despair.

The cleverest smithLiving has failed;And, that being so,Who shall succeed?How rede aright such a riddle?

WANDERER [Has risen quietly from the hearth.

Three things thou wert to ask me;Thrice was I to reply.Thy questions wereOf far-off things,But what stood here at thy hand—Needed much—that was forgot,Now that I guess it,Thou goest crazed,And won by meIs the cunning one's head.Now, Fafner's dauntless subduer,Hear, thou death-doomed dwarf.By him who knows notHow to fearNothung shall be forged.

[Mime stares at him; he turns to go.

So ward thy headWell from to-day.I leave it forfeit to himWho has never learned to fear.

[He turns away smiling, and disappears quickly in the wood. Mime has sunk on to the bench overwhelmed.

MIME

[Stares before him into the sunlit wood, and begins to tremble more and more violently.

Accursèd light!The air is on fire!What flickers and flashes?What buzzes and whirs?What sways there and swingsAnd circles about?What glitters and gleamsIn the sun's hot glow?What rustles and humsAnd rings so loud?With roll and roarIt crashes this way!It bursts through the wood,Making for me!

[He rises up in terror.

Its jaws are wide open,Eager for prey;The dragon will catch me!Fafner! Fafner!

[He sinks shrieking behind the anvil.

SIEGFRIED

[Behind the scenes, is heard breaking from the thicket.

Ho there! Thou idler!Is the work finished?

[He enters the cave.

Quick, come show me the sword.

[He pauses in surprise.

Where hides the smith?Has he made off?Hey, there! Mime, thou coward!Where art thou? Where hidest thou?

MIME

[In a small voice, from behind the anvil.

'Tis thou then, child?Art thou alone?

SIEGFRIED [Laughing.

Under the anvil?Why, what doest thou there?Wert thou grinding the sword?

MIME [Comes forward, greatly upset and confused.

The sword? The sword?How could I weld it?

[Half aside.