THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 MUSIC 
 LIBRARr
 
 >-s book is DUE on the last d?»»' stamped below 
 
 ^i^--- 
 ^ 
 
 STATE NpEMAL SCHOOL 
 
 LOS ANGELES. CALU<-6RNiA
 
 THE 
 
 STORY OF THE RHINEGOLD 
 
 {DER RING DES NIBELUNGEN) 
 
 ^olD for l!?oung people 
 
 BY 
 
 ANNA ALICE CHAPIN 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 7t^f 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 
 
 1899
 
 
 Copyright, i8g7, by Harper & Brothers. 
 
 v4// rights rcserx'cd.
 
 Music 
 Library 
 
 ML 
 
 3730 
 
 STATE-N0R-r:!A-L SGHOOL,"' "' '' '^ '-' "" 
 
 UOS A^iCE'_:l:C, CH.I1. 
 
 TO 
 THE MASTER'S DAUGHTER 
 
 EVA WAGNER 
 
 WITH HEARTFELT GRATITUDE 
 
 FOR HER KINDNESS AND ENCOURAGEMENT 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 "00 Dc&lcateD
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The Story of the RJiinegold contains the four 
 operas of Richard Wagner's " Nibelungen Ring," 
 arranged for young people. The " Nibelun- 
 gen Ring," or " Nibelungen Cycle," is built 
 upon a colossal foundation : a number of the 
 great Teutonic myths, welded together with the 
 most masterly skill and consistency. It is evi- 
 dent that Wagner, like William Morris and other 
 writers, has taken from the fragmentary mytho- 
 logical tales such material as would serve his 
 purpose, adapting such incidents as he chose and 
 as he considered appropriate to liis work. But 
 there are so many different versions of these old 
 stories that it is very difficult to trace Wagner's 
 plot to its original birthplace. The various 
 tales contained in the ancient sagas are so seem- 
 ingly contradictory that anything connectedly 
 authoritative appears impossible to trace. The
 
 vi Preface 
 
 one thing which seems to remain the same in 
 almost all versions of the stories, ancient and 
 modern, is the background of mythology, that 
 great, gloomy cycle of gods, with the ever-recur- 
 ring note of Fate which seems to have im- 
 pressed all searchers in myths alike, and which 
 inspired Wagner when he formed his mystical, 
 solemn Fate motif. 
 
 Odin, Wuotan, Wodin, or Wotan, according 
 to the different names given him in the old le- 
 gends, is the central figure in the framework. 
 If I read the story aright, the Norns, or more 
 properly Nornir, are next in importance. They 
 and their mother, the Vala, are the medium 
 through which the relentless something behind 
 the gods made itself felt in the world. The 
 three sisters are named respectively Urdr, Ver- 
 dandi, and Skuld — freely translated Past, Pres- 
 ent, and Future ; or, as they were once styled, as 
 correctly perhaps, Was, Is, and Shall Be. It is 
 a question whether Erda and Urdr, the oldest 
 Norn, might not originally have been identical. 
 Dr. Hueffer speaks of Erda as the " Mother of 
 Gods and Men," but though "the Vala" is 
 often found in mythology, the name Erda is rare- 
 ly mentioned, whereas the titles for the three 
 Norns seem to be unquestionably correct. The
 
 Preface vii 
 
 term Vala is usually translated as Witch, or 
 Witch-wife, but, though a Vala was indeed a sor- 
 ceress, she was a prophetess as well. 
 
 A step lower than the gods, yet gifted with 
 supernatural power and far removed from the 
 characteristics of human beings, were the dwarfs 
 and the giants. The giants, we are told, were 
 creatures belonging properly to the Age of 
 Stone, which explains the fact that there were 
 left but two representatives of the race at the 
 time of the Golden Age. The dwarfs come 
 under the head of elves. They were gifted 
 with the utmost cleverness and skill. The 
 giants were stupid and clumsy, and, save for 
 their superhuman strength and size, entirely in- 
 ferior to the small, sly dwarfs. 
 
 The world was strangely peopled in those 
 days ; many of the heroes were demi-gods, that 
 is, descended from some god or goddess, and 
 witches, dwarfs, and sorcerers mingled with hu- 
 man beings. 
 
 Many mortals, also, had magic power then. 
 Otter, the son of Rodmar, changed himself 
 into the animal for which he was named, and 
 while in the shape of the otter he was caught 
 and killed by three of the gods who were wan- 
 dering over the earth in disguise. Rodmar de-
 
 Viii Preface 
 
 manded weregild,* and Loki, with a net, caught 
 Andvari, a rich and mahgnant dwarf, and com- 
 manded him to pay a ransom of gold and gems, 
 enough to cover the skin of the otter ; for 
 such was the weregild demanded by Rodmar. 
 Andvari, of necessity, gave the gold for his own 
 release, even adding a wonderful wealth-breeding 
 Ring to cover up a single hair in the skin which 
 the rest of the treasures had left unconcealed. 
 The dwarf cursed the Ring, and the curse attend- 
 ed it through all its manifold ways of magic, to 
 the end of the story. 
 
 Rodmar's remaining sons, Fafnir and Regin, 
 killed their father and fought for the treasure. 
 Fafnir obtained it, and, turning himself into a 
 monster-worm, went to Glistenheath (sometimes 
 called Glittering Hearth) to guard his wealth. 
 Regin called upon Sigurd, a young hero, to aid 
 him, and, being a master-smith, forged for him 
 a sharp sword named Gram. Some versions 
 give the forging of the sword to Sigurd, but 
 there are many sides to the story. The sword 
 was sometimes called Gram, and oftener Bal- 
 dung, until. Wagner gave it the more expressive 
 
 * Weregild is almost untranslatable. It may mean 
 payment, tax, forfeit, or ransom.
 
 Preface ix 
 
 name of Nothung, or Needful. Prompted by 
 Regin, Sigurd slew the Dragon at Glistenheath, 
 and, after tasting the blood by accident, was 
 able to understand the language of birds, and 
 was told by two of Odin's ravens that Regin was 
 treacherous. After slaying Regin, Sigurd rode 
 away with two bundles of the treasures slung 
 across his horse's back. He found and awak- 
 ened Brynhildr, a beautiful woman asleep in a 
 house on a hill. (She is known in the different 
 tales in which she has figured as Brynhildr, Brun- 
 hild, Brunehault, and Briinnhilde.) The next 
 part of the tale is most clearly set forth in the 
 " Nibelungenlied," an epic poem in Middle High 
 German dialect, containing a story — or, more 
 correctly, a series of stories — which originally 
 belonged to the entire Teutonic people. These 
 have been found in multitudinous poems and 
 sagas, from those written by the ancient Norse- 
 men, and most primitive in form, to the modern 
 books, essays, and poems of writers who have 
 been impressed with the interesting and pictur- 
 esque aspects of the strange, complicated old 
 story. The "Nibelungenlied" itself deals rather 
 with the period of Christianity — with the knights 
 and ladies of the time of chivalry — than with the 
 primeval gods and heroes of the Golden Age.
 
 X Preface 
 
 The substance of its contents may be found in the 
 " Edda " and in the " Thidrekssaga " (thirteenth 
 century), and the original manuscripts of the 
 "Nibelungenlied " itself date from the thirteenth 
 to the sixteenth century. 
 
 The story contained in this poem is, briefly 
 told, as follows : 
 
 Siegfried, son of Siegmund and Sieglind, 
 woos Kreimhild, the sister of King Gunther, of 
 Burgundy, promising, in return for her hand, to 
 aid Gunther in winning Brunhild, Queen of Iss- 
 land (Iceland). Siegfried, with the help of his 
 cloud - cloak, conquers Brunhild for Gunther — 
 first in three athletic games, which she makes a 
 test for all suitors ; and later when, after the 
 marriage, she proves stormy and untamed. He 
 takes her Ring and girdle, and gives them to his 
 wife, Kreimhild. They possess magic proper- 
 ties, and Brunhild, when deprived of them, loses 
 her great power and becomes like any ordinary 
 woman. She sees her Ring on Kreimhild's hand 
 one day, and, realizing that it is Siegfried, and 
 not her husband Gunther, who has conquered 
 her great strength and stolen her magic circlets, 
 she tells her wrongs to Hagan, who promises re- 
 venge. Hagan is the Knight of Trony, and he 
 and his brother Dankwort are Gunther's vassals.
 
 Preface xi 
 
 Hagan entices Kreimhild to reveal to him the 
 secret of her husband's safety in battle, and she 
 tells him that Siegfried once slew a dragon and 
 bathed in the blood, which made him invulnera- 
 ble, save in one place, between his shoulders, 
 where a leaf fell, protecting the skin from the 
 blood. Kreimhild is entirely deceived by Ha- 
 gan, and, not suspecting his treachery, she sews 
 a circle of silk upon her husband's vesture over 
 the vulnerable spot, that Hagan may better 
 know how to protect the hero's one weakness 
 when they are in battle. It is there, where the 
 circle of silk is sewn, that Hagan stabs him. 
 
 There is much more in the " Nibelungenlied," 
 and a character famous in poesy and sagas is in- 
 troduced later in the poem — Atli, or Attila, King 
 of the Huns; but he has nothing to do with our 
 story, though some one has drawn a resem- 
 blance between his character and that of Hun- 
 ding. The " Nibelungenlied," after Siegfried's 
 death, contains very little connected in any way 
 with Wagner's four operas. 
 
 There are other versions of this tale, as there 
 are of all ancient stories. There are many tales 
 of the killing of the Dragon and the awakening 
 of Brunhild, and the personality and history of 
 the latter have passed under diverse alterations
 
 X Preface 
 
 The substance of its contents may be found in the 
 " Edda " and in the " Thidrekssaga " (thirteenth 
 century), and the original manuscripts of the 
 "Nibelungenlied " itself date from the thirteenth 
 to the sixteenth century. 
 
 The story contained in this poem is, briefly 
 told, as follows : 
 
 Siegfried, son of Siegmund and Sieglind, 
 woos Kreimhild, the sister of King Gunther, of 
 Burgundy, promising, in return for her hand, to 
 aid Gunther in winning Brunhild, Queen of Iss- 
 land (Iceland). Siegfried, with the help of his 
 cloud -cloak, conquers Brunhild for Gunther — 
 first in three athletic games, which she makes a 
 test for all suitors ; and later when, after the 
 marriage, she proves stormy and untamed. He 
 takes her Ring and girdle, and gives them to his 
 wife, Kreimhild. They possess magic proper- 
 ties, and Brunhild, when deprived of them, loses 
 her great power and becomes like any ordinary 
 woman. She sees her Ring on Kreimhild's hand 
 one day, and, realizing that it is Siegfried, and 
 not her husband Gunther, who has conquered 
 her great strength and stolen her magic circlets, 
 she tells her wrongs to Hagan, who promises re- 
 venge. Hagan is the Knight of Trony, and he 
 and his brother Dankwort are Gunther's vassals.
 
 Preface xi 
 
 Hagan entices Kreimhild to reveal to him the 
 secret of her husband's safety in battle, and she 
 tells him that Siegfried once slew a dragon and 
 bathed in the blood, which made him invulnera- 
 ble, save in one place, between his shoulders, 
 where a leaf fell, protecting the skin from the 
 blood. Kreimhild is entirely deceived by Ha- 
 gan, and, not suspecting his treachery, she sews 
 a circle of silk upon her husband's vesture over 
 the vulnerable spot, that Hagan may better 
 know how to protect the hero's one weakness 
 when they are in battle. It is there, where the 
 circle of silk is sewn, that Hagan stabs him. 
 
 There is much more in the " Nibelungenlied," 
 and a character famous in poesy and sagas is in- 
 troduced later in the poem — Atli, or Attila, King 
 of the Huns; but he has nothing to do with our 
 story, though some one has drawn a resem- 
 blance between his character and that of Hun- 
 ding. The " Nibelungenlied," after Siegfried's 
 death, contains very little connected in any way 
 with Wagner's four operas. 
 
 There are other versions of this tale, as there 
 are of all ancient stories. There are many tales 
 of the killing of the Dragon and the awakening 
 of Brunhild, and the personality and history of 
 the latter have passed under diverse alterations
 
 xii Preface 
 
 in color and development. One story says that 
 Brynhildr, the Valkyrie, was made to slumber 
 by her father Odin, who pricked her in the temple 
 with a sleep-thorn. Many writers tell of a fire- 
 circle which surrounded the sleeper and guarded 
 her slumbers. She is known as a great queen, 
 a woman gifted with magic powers, and a dis- 
 obedient Walkiire in different tales ; and her 
 character changes as constantly as her history 
 in the various legends where we read of her. 
 Sigurd, Siegfried, and Sinfiotli are, in many 
 respects, so similar that they might safely be 
 termed identical, though sometimes, as in Will- 
 iam Morris's " Sigurd, the Volsung," they ap- 
 pear as distinct characters. 
 
 Out of this confused and complicated sea of 
 myths, legends, and old Norse stories Wagner 
 has drawn the material for his wonderful cycle. 
 
 His gods and goddesses are taken, with very 
 few changes, directly from their original place — 
 the Teutonic mythology. His giants and dwarfs 
 are also unaltered as complete races. In his usage 
 of them he difTers in some respects from the older 
 stories. 
 
 Fafnir, the son of Rodmar, becomes the giant 
 Fafner, and his brother Fasolt is added. Regin 
 is transformed into Mime, the master-smith. In-
 
 Preface xiii 
 
 stead of Otter, who must be covered by gems, 
 we have the love goddess Friea, and instead of 
 the hair which the Ring must cover in the old 
 legend, it is in Wagner's adaptation one of Friea's 
 beautiful eyes. Fafner hides in Hate Hole in- 
 stead of upon Glistenheath, and is killed by 
 Siegfried instead of Sigurd. The lonely Walkiires' 
 Rock takes the place of the house on the hill, 
 and instead of being made invulnerable by the 
 Dragon's blood, Siegfried is protected by Briinn- 
 hilde's spells — a fancy which seems more poetic 
 and beautiful, but which originates, I believe, 
 entirely with Wagner. Gutrune takes the place 
 of Kreimhild, and Hagan is not Gunther's vassal, 
 but his half-brother. These are, after all, appar- 
 ently slight changes, yet to Wagner's cycle a new 
 poetry seems to have come. The barbaric aspects 
 of the tale have faded, and all the simple beauty 
 of those wild, noble gods and demi-gods has 
 gleamed forth as gloriously as the wonderful 
 Rhinegold, which the master has made next in 
 importance to the gods and the dusk of their 
 splendor. 
 
 Before going further, perhaps it might be well 
 to say a few words of explanation as to the mo- 
 tifs which form the key-notes of Wagner's great 
 musical dramas.
 
 xiv Preface 
 
 When he set his poem of the Nibelungen 
 Ring to music, he was not satisfied with merely 
 beautiful airs and harmonies linked together with' 
 no purpose save the lovely sounds. He wished, 
 above all, to have his music fit his words ; and 
 for every character and thought and incident, 
 and indeed for almost everything in his operas, 
 he wrote a melody, and these descriptive musical 
 phrases are called motifs. Each one has its mean- 
 ing, and when it is played it brings the thought 
 of what it describes and represents, and it makes 
 a double language — what the characters on the 
 stage are saying and what the music is saying, as 
 well. Through the motifs we understand many 
 things which we could not possibly comprehend 
 otherwise. 
 
 That Wagner wished to give the impression 
 that Erda was the mother of all beings, divine 
 and human, at the beginning of the world, he has 
 shown by the fact that the motif of the Primal 
 Element — the commencement of all things — is 
 identical with hers, save that where she is indi- 
 cated the melody takes a minor coloring, denot- 
 ing her character of mystery as well as the gloom 
 in which her prophetic powers must necessarily 
 envelop her. The contrasting, yet harmonizing, 
 elements of earth and water are also shadowed
 
 Preface xv 
 
 forth, I think, in this motif of the Primal Ele- 
 ment, which is used for the Rhine, and also for 
 the Goddess of the Earth. When the Vala's 
 daughters — the Nornir — are mirrored in the mu- 
 sic, the same melody appears, fraught with the 
 waving, weaving sound of their mystic spinning. 
 
 The motifs in Wagner's operas are, above all, 
 descriptive. For example, note the Walhalla, 
 Nibelung, and Giant motifs, 
 
 The first of these, full of power, substance, and 
 dignity, not only is descriptive of the great palace 
 itself, but also represents the entire race of gods 
 who inhabit it, seemingly secure in their conscious 
 glory and sovereignty. To indicate Wotan, the 
 King of the gods and the ruler in Walhalla, 
 Wagner has constantly made use of this motif. 
 
 Its melody is measured, strong, and simple, and 
 the nobility of those worshipped gods of primeval 
 years seems to breathe through it. 
 
 The Nibelungs were so intimately associated 
 with their work that they were scarcely more 
 than living machines — soulless exponents of the 
 art of the forge and the anvil ; so when we hear 
 in the music the beat of hammers — the sharp, 
 metallic clang in measured time, our first 
 thought is that the hammers are swung by the 
 Nibelungs. How cramped is their melody, how
 
 xvi Preface 
 
 monotonous and hopeless is the regular fall of 
 the hammers ! When we hear it hushed and 
 veiled with discords, we seem to come in con- 
 tact with the narrow, darkened souls of the 
 Nibelungs. 
 
 And now we come to the motif of the 
 giants. 
 
 It is, like themselves, heavy, lumbering, with a 
 slur that is like the stumbling of heavy feet. 
 Clumsy and ungraceful, it and what it represents 
 cross the idyllic beauty of the motifs of Friea, 
 V/alhalla, the Ring, the Rhinegold, and the rest, 
 with a harsh and disagreeable sense of an in- 
 harmonious element. How different from the 
 majestic gods, and the clever, smalhsouled Nib- 
 elungs, are these great creatures who are all 
 bodies and no brains, and who are so ably repre- 
 sented by the music allotted them in the operas ! 
 Yet, in their own way, they and their motif are 
 extremely picturesque ! 
 
 In these three motifs we can see the genius 
 which formed them, and so many others, even 
 greater in conception and execution. Scattered 
 throughout TJie Story of the Rhinegold will be 
 found a few of these motifs — only a few and not 
 the most lovely — but enough I think to help 
 one, in a small way, to follow the operas with
 
 Preface xvii 
 
 more interest and understanding than if one did 
 not know them. 
 
 One of the simplest motifs in the book is one 
 of the most important : the Rhinegold motif. 
 It is like the blowing of a fairy horn heralding to 
 the world of sprites and elves the magic wonder 
 in the river. 
 
 In the olden days they had a lovely legend of 
 the formation of the Rhinegold. They said 
 that the sun's rays poured down inta the Rhine 
 so brilliantly every day that, through some 
 magic — no one knew exactly how — the glowing 
 reflection became bright and beautiful gold, 
 filled with great mystic powers because of its 
 glorious origin — the sunshine. 
 
 And that was the beginning of the Rhine- 
 gold. 
 
 A. A. C.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 part If 
 
 THE RHINEGOLD, or DAS RHEINGOLD 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Prelude 3 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. The Rhine Maidens 8 
 
 II. Fasolt and Fafner 13 
 
 III. NiBELHEIM 18 
 
 IV. The Rainbow Bridge 24 
 
 Ipart HH 
 
 THE WARRIOR GODDESS, or DIE WALKHrE 
 Prelude 33 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. The House of Hunding <> , . . 37 
 
 II. The Daughter of Wotan 45 
 
 III. BrOnnhilde's Punishment . 54 
 
 Ipart flUH 
 
 SIEGFRIED 
 Prelude 63
 
 XX Contents 
 
 CHAPTER FA6B 
 
 I. Siegfried and Mime .......... 67 
 
 II. Hate Hole 79 
 
 III. The Mountain Pass 83 
 
 IV. The WalkOres' Rock 95 
 
 Ipart 1fD 
 
 THE DUSK OF THE GODS, or COTTER- 
 DAMMERUNG 
 
 Prelude . 103 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. The Hall of the Gibichungs 107 
 
 II. The Walkltres' Rock Once More 113 
 
 III. The Rhine Chief's Bride 118 
 
 IV. On the Banks of the Rhine 124 
 
 V. The Last Twilight 133
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 WOTAN AND BrOnNHILDE . , , . 
 THE GLEAMING TREASURE .... 
 
 A WARRIOR GODDESS 
 
 THE WALKORE APPEARS . , , . . 
 SIEGFRIED AT THE FORGE .... 
 THE DEATH OF THE DRAGON . . . 
 BRCNNHILDE on THE WALKljRES' ROCK 
 GUTRUNE AND SIEGFRIED .... 
 BRUNNHILDE AND SIEGFRIED ... 
 GUNTHER AND BRUNNHILDE .... 
 
 HAGEN AND SIEGFRIED , 
 
 AFTER SIEGFRIED'S DEATH . , , . 
 
 Fyant{s/iiect 
 
 Fact 
 
 "S P- 
 
 lO 
 
 34 
 50 
 76 
 82 
 104 
 no 
 
 116 
 
 122 
 123 
 130
 
 . ipact IF 
 
 THE RHINEGOLD, or DAS RHEINGOLD
 
 . ©art H 
 THE RHINEGOLD, OR DAS RHEINGOLD
 
 /
 
 79*^f 
 
 1 . r ? 
 
 MotH" of the Rhinegold 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 We have, all of us, read of the Golden Age, 
 when the gods ruled over the world, and giants 
 and dragons, dwarfs and water-fairies inhabited 
 the earth and mingled with mortals. The giants 
 were then a strong, stupid race, more rough than 
 cruel, and, as a rule, generous among themselves. 
 They were very foolish creatures, and constantly 
 did themselves and others harm ; but their race, 
 even at that time, was dying out, and there were 
 left of ■■ - two brothers, Fasoit and Fafner. 
 
 The dwarfs, or Nibelungs, were entirely differ- 
 ent. They were small and misshapen, but very 
 shrewd, and so skilful were their fingers that 
 they were able to do the most difificult work in 
 the finest metals. They lived in an underground 
 country called Nibelheim (Home of the Dwarfs), 
 where they collected hoards of gold and gems, 
 and strange treasures of all kinds ; and Alberich 
 was one of them. He was a hideous creature,
 
 4 The Story of^the Rhinegold 
 
 so dark and evil-looking, with his small, wicked 
 eyes and his hair and beard the color of ink, 
 that he was always called Black Alberich — a 
 very suitable name. 
 
 As for the dragons, they were rare even in 
 those days, and though we shall have to deal 
 with one by-and-by when we are further on in 
 my story, I shall not say much about them now. 
 
 The water- fairies were beautiful spirits who 
 lived in the depths of the river Rhine. They 
 were simple and innocent, as became children of 
 the Golden Age, and very lovely to look upon. 
 In the peaceful twilight -land under the water 
 they were perfectly happy, dancing in and out 
 among the rocks at the river bottom, and sing- 
 ing soft songs, which, when wafted up to the 
 surface of the Rhine, sounded like the faint 
 sighing ripple of the river as it r:.lled onward 
 through the valleys and the woods. 
 
 And the water-fairies had one great happi- 
 ness in their quiet, shadowed lives. I will tell you 
 what it was : On the top of a tall black rock in the 
 river Rhine there rested a magical treasure, more 
 wonderful than any of the Nibelung hoards, or 
 the possessions of the gods themselves — a bright, 
 beautiful Gold, the radiance of which was so great 
 that when the sun shone down into the river and
 
 Prelude 5 
 
 touched it the gray- green water was filled with 
 golden light from depth to depth, and the fairies 
 of the Rhine circled about their treasure, singing 
 and laughing with delight. 
 
 What a wonderful time it must have been — the 
 Golden Age — when such things were possible ! 
 
 You smile and say that they were not possible, 
 even then ! Remember that this is a fairy tale — 
 a day-dream — such as might come to you while 
 watching the sunlit ripples dancing on the water, 
 and hearing the little waves lapping on the peb- 
 bles — a fairy tale, that is all. 
 
 The Golden Age, as I think of it, seems a pe- 
 riod in which anything might have happened. 
 Closing my eyes, I can picture the majestic gods 
 moving, great kings and queens among human 
 beings ; great kings and queens made young by 
 Friea's apples of youth. Friea was the Goddess 
 of Love, Youth, and Beauty. She was the same 
 as Venus, the Roman goddess, called Aphrodite 
 by the Greeks, of whom, perhaps, you have read 
 elsewhere. All that I am writing about happen- 
 ed, you know, in Germany ; and to the people 
 there the gods — or rather men's ideas of them, 
 and their names for them — were different from 
 those of other lands. 
 
 So the King God, instead of being Jupiter, or
 
 6 TJie Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 Zeus, or Jove, was called Wotan, or sometimes 
 Odin. And the Queen Goddess was neither Juno 
 nor Here, but Fricka; and the wild Thunder God 
 was Thor ; and the Goddess of the Earth Erda, 
 which means the earth. She was the wisest of 
 all the gods and goddesses (though Logi, the 
 Fire God, was the quickest and cleverest), and 
 she could prophesy strange things about the 
 gods and the world, and everything happened 
 just as she prophesied. 
 
 She would sink into the earth and dream, and 
 all her dreams came true. She would tell them 
 to her daughters, the three Norns, or Fates, and 
 they would weave them into a long golden 
 thread, into which they had spun the world's 
 history. 
 
 They spun under a great ash-tree which grew 
 by the Fountain of Wisdom, and was called the 
 Tree of the World. 
 
 One day Wotan, the king of the gods, came to 
 the fountain for a draught of the Water of Wis- 
 dom. He drank, and left one of his "^yes in 
 payment. He tore a limb from the World-Ash 
 and made it into a spear ; and the spear, having 
 strange figures upon it representing Law and 
 Knowledge, was typical of the wisdom and pow- 
 er of the gods, and so long as that wisdom and
 
 Prelude 7 
 
 that power endured no sword could break the 
 spear nor could remain whole at its touch. 
 
 But the World -Ash, robbed of its branches, 
 withered away and died, and the Fountain of 
 Wisdom became dry. 
 
 And these things were the beginning of the 
 end of the Golden Age. But wise people say 
 that the Golden Age did not end until men 
 began to value gold for its own sake and the 
 love of gain, and to do wrong things to possess 
 it. And now I will tell you how it all happened. 
 
 Motif of the Primal Element, 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 -1*- 
 
 ?="&-:E 
 
 JS|»- 
 
 m^. 
 
 out of which come the Erda, Norn, and Rhine Motifs
 
 Song of the Rhine Maidens 
 
 vy^ — • ^ r 
 
 -> -^ — L_ 
 
 N-1 
 
 • -7 K i * 
 
 ' \ ' m ■ f 
 
 tTv^ J- 1 
 
 r 1 
 
 m 1 * • .. 
 
 • 
 
 1-. ; ^ \ ' , 1 
 
 J 1 
 
 Wei - a wa - 
 
 n U r. 
 
 ga, wa - ver - ing wa ■ 
 
 - ters. 
 
 J r) \ ^ 
 
 r ^ 
 
 • 
 
 yO 7 L « J ^ , 
 
 » 
 
 U i 1* 
 
 
 r'i " 1 • 1 
 
 ^ y 1 
 
 'j 
 
 
 >_ 
 
 ^ V '- 1 
 
 weaving and whirl- ing! Wa-la - la wei - a! 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE RHINE MAIDENS 
 
 At the bottom of the river Rhine, about the 
 dark rock where rested the invisible Rhinegold, 
 there swam one morning before sunrise the Gold's 
 fair guardians, the three children of the Rhine. 
 They were beautiful maidens, these three water- 
 spirits, the most lovely of all the river people, 
 and their names were Flosshilde, Woglinde, and 
 Wellgunde. They were singing softly, and glanc- 
 ing constantly up to the rock's crest, waiting for 
 the appearance of the Rhinegold, which could 
 only be seen when the sun had risen up above 
 and sent its rays into the water to disclose the 
 treasure. They sang a little rippling refrain that 
 meant nothing except laughter and joy, and
 
 The Rhine Maideiis 9 
 
 sounded very like the ripples of the water them- 
 selves : 
 
 " Weia waga — " 
 
 sang Woglinde, 
 
 "Wavering waters, weaving and whirling, 
 Walala weia!" 
 
 And so they sang on, till their voices mingled 
 so with the ripple that both voices and water 
 became almost one in sound. 
 
 Now, while these three lovely maids, seem- 
 ing almost part of the water in their dresses of 
 shimmering blue -green, with pale wreaths of 
 river flowers in their hair, and their white arms 
 looking frail as moonbeams as they raised them 
 through the water — while they moved about the 
 rock singing and laughing together, a strange, 
 dark little man stood near watching them. He 
 had risen out of a black chasm in one of the 
 rocks, and he had come from far Nibelheim, 
 through an underground passage. He had small 
 eyes, his hair and beard were the color of ink, 
 and he looked very wicked. Can you guess who 
 he was? 
 
 He shouted grufifly to the Rhine Maidens, and 
 they, being much amused at his ugly appearance,
 
 10 The Story of the RJiinegold 
 
 drew near with laughter and mocking words. 
 They led him wild chases in among the rocks, 
 they played with him merry games of hide-and- 
 seek — merry for them, but not at all so for him, 
 for he was clumsy in motion compared with them, 
 and he became very angry because he could not 
 follow them over the rocks. 
 
 " Smooth, slippery, slush and slime," he grum- 
 bled. " The dampness makes me sneeze." 
 
 At last, just as he had become thoroughly 
 angry, there appeared suddenly a strange bright- 
 ness at the top of the rock — a wonderful golden 
 light that glowed with ever-increasing brilliance 
 down into the water. 
 
 "Ah, see, sisters!" cried Woglinde. "The 
 awakening sun laughs down into the depths." 
 
 "Yes," said Wellgunde, with soft delight, "it 
 greets the slumbering Gold !" 
 
 " With a kiss of light the Gold is aroused !" 
 said Flosshilde. And, joining hands, they swam 
 excitedly about the rock, singing in bursts of 
 gladness : 
 
 " Weia waga, 
 Weia waga, 
 Rhinegold, Rhinegold, 
 Glorious joy." 
 
 " You gliders," questioned Alberich (for it was
 
 The Rhine Maidens II 
 
 he), " what is this that gleams and glistens over 
 yonder?" 
 
 Laughing at his ignorance, the nymphs told 
 him that it was a magical Gold ; that whoever 
 made a Ring from it would have greater power 
 than any one else alive ; that he could possess 
 all the wealth of the world if he wished ; and 
 they so described the fairy powers of the treas- 
 ure that Alberich's wicked soul began to thrill 
 with desire to have it as his own. 
 
 The sisters further told him that the Gold was 
 safe from thieves, because it could only be stolen 
 by some one who had made up his mind never 
 to love any one except himself so long as he 
 might live. ^ 
 
 " We have nothing to fear," said gentle Wog- 
 linde, " for every one who lives must love." 
 
 But Alberich pondered silently. "All the 
 wealth in the world !" he thought. " For that 
 who would not give up love ?" And he sprang 
 wildly up the rocks. 
 
 " Listen, waves and water-witches !" he shout- 
 ed, as he reached towards the gleaming treasure. 
 " Never will I, the Dwarf, give love to any creat- 
 ^'cclf through all my life." And while, 
 |))?s, the Rhine Maidens hastened near 
 n, Alberich, the Nibelung, tore the
 
 12 The Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 Rhinegold from the tall, black rock, and fled with 
 it into the black chasm, and so to Nibelheim. 
 
 And, left behind, the nymphs could only wail 
 for their lost joy with sobs and cries of " Sorrow, 
 sorrow ! Ah — to rescue the Gold !" 
 
 But it was too late. And in the dark hol- 
 low chasm, Alberich, fleeing with the treasure, 
 laughed at their despair. 
 
 / 
 i 
 
 ,h (for it was
 
 A WARRIOR GODDESS
 
 -o- 
 
 *—. •- 
 
 — — 1 — \- — *■ 
 
 -•— # 
 
 Motif of the Giants 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 .^_^^:pii:f^_r: 
 
 It 
 
 !«!=;• 
 
 j»« — *- 
 
 Motif of Friea 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 FASOLT AND FAFNER 
 
 One morning not long afterwards the rising 
 sun shone upon strange things up among the 
 gods. 
 
 Wotan, and Fricka his wife, waking upon' the 
 mountain-top where they had slept that night,
 
 14 The Story of the RJimegold 
 
 gazed up to where, built among the clouds, the 
 spires of a wonderful palace glittered in the sun- 
 shine — Walhalla, the fair, new home of the gods. 
 
 It had been built at Wotan's command by 
 Fasolt and Fafner, the two brother giants, and 
 they had been promised, in payment, the god- 
 dess Friea. But Wotan had never intended giv- 
 ing her to them, and so he told Fricka when 
 she spoke anxiously of the reward promised the 
 giants, declaring that the goddess was as pre- 
 cious to him as to her. 
 
 Even as he spoke Friea rushed wildly in, call- 
 ing upon him to save her from the rude giants. 
 In answer, Wotan asked where Logi, the Fire 
 God, could be found, saying that where cunning 
 and craft were needed, Logi was the one most 
 to be sought after. But, look as he might, the 
 wayward Fire God was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 And then came the great brothers, bearing huge 
 clubs, and fiercely clamoring for a reward for their 
 labors in building Walhalla. 
 
 " You slept while we worked," they said. " Now 
 claim we our payment." 
 
 "What price do you demand?" asked Wotan. 
 pretending not to remember any promised re- 
 ward. " What will you take as wages?" 
 
 "Would you deceive us so?" cried Fasolt, in
 
 / 
 
 Fasolt and Fafner 15 
 
 astonished r.\ge. " Friea you promised us. We 
 worked right heartily to win us so fair a woman." 
 
 ** Hush !' muttered Fafner. " Listen to me ! 
 Without Friea's apples of youth the gods will 
 grow old, and their glory will fade away. They 
 will die like human beings if Friea be taken 
 from them." 
 
 So the giants talked together, planning how to 
 steal the lovely goddess, who stood aside trem- 
 bling, fearing that Wotan would refuse to pro- 
 tect her from the two savage workmen. 
 
 He meanwhile merely murmured ?oftly to 
 himself, " Logi is long coming," and gazed ex- 
 pectantly about. But still the Fire God could 
 not be seen. 
 
 Thor and Froh, two other gods, had appear- 
 ed. The giants were growing more impatient and 
 Friea more despairing, when Logi at last arrived. 
 When he did he talked on a variety of subjects 
 before he would pay any attention to the affairs 
 that were worrying the other gods and the giants. 
 But at last he set his clever brain to work at some 
 plan by which his fair sister Friea might be saved. 
 Knowing well the love of wealth characteristic 
 of the giants, he told the story of the Rhinegold 
 and the stealing of it by the Nibelung. He said 
 that he had heard the maids weeping for their
 
 I 
 
 16 The Story of the Rliinegnld 
 
 lost treasure, and had promised therr that Wotan, 
 the King God, would return it to hem in time. 
 The two giants began to feel the same desire for 
 it that Alberich had had, and to whisper togeth- 
 er concerning it, so vividly did Logi describe its 
 powers. 
 
 " It seems," muttered Fafner, " that this Gold 
 is worth even more than Friea." And he cried 
 out suddenly: "Listen, Wotan, you wise one! 
 We will give up Friea ; but you will instead be- 
 stow upon us the Nibelung's Gold." 
 
 " We will hold her meanwhile as ransom !" 
 cried Fasolt. And they dragged her away, de- 
 spite her piteous appeals, to Riesenheim (or 
 Home of the Giants), leaving the gods perplexed 
 and sorrowing for their lost goddess. 
 
 As they stood silently together a mist seemed 
 to steal upward from the ground, and floated be- 
 tween them. A strange shadow rested upon the 
 faces of the gods. They looked pale and wrinkled ; 
 their hair was white. 
 
 " Alas ! What has happened ?" wailed Fricka, 
 faintly. 
 
 The gods were growing old. 
 
 " See, then," said Logi, the shrewd one. " Our 
 Youth Goddess has gone. We are old ; we are 
 gray. The race of gods will come to an end." 
 
 )■ 
 
 J)
 
 Fasolt and Fafncr 17 
 
 Wotan started and looked about him. His 
 face was pale. 
 
 " Down, Logi ! Let us go down to Nibelheim !" 
 he cried. " The Gold shall be had for ransom." 
 
 The gods called out good wishes after them 
 through the mist, and Wotan, the King God, and 
 his fire -servant, Logi, went down through the 
 hollow, shadowy passages under the earth to 
 Nibelheim, the home of the dw^arfs.
 
 E 
 
 n: 
 
 m 
 
 p- 
 
 1=^==^ 
 
 Ring Motif 
 
 t>«&--g:- 
 
 Nibelung Motif 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 N I 3 E L H E I M 
 
 Alberich had forged a Ring from the Rhine- 
 gold, and, wearing it, possessed absolute pow- 
 er over the rest of the Nibelungs. He was the 
 King Dwarf, ruler over all Nibelheim, the Land 
 of Gloom. Ah ! what a land of gloom it was ! 
 Through the dark shadows there streamed fit- 
 fully a lurid light from the forges Avhere the 
 dwarfs were working ; their hammers clanged 
 monotonously on the anvils. Slowly they laid 
 the results of their toil in great heaps, and Al- 
 berich laughed at their wearinesr. and gloated 
 over the treasures, which he promptly claimed as 
 his own. 
 
 Among the Nibelungs was one particularly
 
 Nibelhciui 1 9 
 
 crooked and ill-shapen, named Mime. He was 
 Alberich's half-brother, and, not unnaturally, 
 hated the Black King with all his strength ; for 
 Alberich treated him even more cruelly than the 
 others. 
 
 Mime, at Alberich's command, made a won- 
 derful cap of darkness out of some of the Rhine- 
 gold, which not only had the power of making 
 its wearer invisible at will, but could change him 
 into whatever shape he wished. This Alberich 
 wore, and changed himself into a column of 
 mist, in which shape he found he could move 
 about much faster, and make things much hard- 
 er for the dwarfs. 
 
 " Hohei, all you Nibelungs! Kneel to your 
 King! Now he is everywhere, all about you, 
 unseen, but felt ?.nd heard, you idlers!" 
 
 And the column of mist drifted ofT through a 
 rocky passage, leaving Mime whimpering upon 
 the ground. 
 
 Now, with the clang of the hammers there 
 mingled the sound of steps, and from the black 
 crevice in the rocks came two figures slowly 
 down to Nibelheim. One was tall and majestic, 
 with a helmet of gold and steel, a long cloak 
 with strange designs upon it, and a deep golden 
 beard that hung far down over his breast ; one
 
 20 TJie Story of the Rhincgold 
 
 of his eyes was missing, and in his hand he bore 
 a great spear. 
 
 The other was clothed in brilliant red, his eyes 
 were bright, his step swift as a springing flame in 
 dead grass. They were Wotan and Logi search- 
 ing for the Rhinegold. 
 
 Logi accosted Mime in friendly fashion, and 
 asked what was wrong with him. 
 
 " That wretch, my brother !" grumbled the 
 Dwarf. " He treats us all cruelly. Leave me 
 in peace !" 
 
 "How came Alberich by his power?" asked 
 the Fire God. 
 
 " From the ruddy Rhinegold he made a Ring. 
 With it he rules us. But," asked the Nibelung, 
 staring at them, " who are you both ?" 
 
 " Friends that perhaps may free the Nibel- 
 ung people," laughed Logi, and at the same time 
 Alberich appeared, scolding, screaming, and ill- 
 treating all who came in his way. Driving Mime 
 away with the rest of the dwarfs, he, scowling, 
 asked the two gods what they wished. 
 
 " We heard of the wonders worked by Albe- 
 rich," answered Wotan, "We come to behold 
 them." 
 
 " Pooh ! I know you well," said the Dwarf 
 King. " Such notable guests " — and he sneered
 
 Nibclheim 21 
 
 - — " could only have been led by envy to Nibel- 
 eim. 
 
 " Surely you know me," said Logi. " I have 
 lit your forges, gnome. Cannot you trust me?" 
 
 "To be sure I know you," grinned Alberich. 
 " And I will always trust you to be untrustwor- 
 thy. I don't fear you." 
 
 " How brave you are," said Logi, in pretended 
 admiration. 
 
 "Do you see that treasure?" said the Nibel- 
 ung, proudly pointing to a great heap of gold 
 and gems. 
 
 The gods assented. 
 
 " But," said Wotan, " what good does it do 
 you, here in Nibelheim?" 
 
 Alberich glared at him, and then laughed. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! But wait !" he said. " You gods ! 
 You gods ! You have looked down upon us 
 Nibelungs. Now we, with the help of the Gold- 
 en Ring, will sway the whole world. We will 
 storm the gates of Walhalla! Beware! Ha! 
 ha ! Do you hear me ? Beware !" 
 
 Wotan, in anger, started forward, but Logi 
 slipped in front of him. 
 
 " Most wonderful are you, O Nibelung I" he 
 said, admiringly. " I salute you as the might- 
 iest creature alive. But tell me one thing, O
 
 22 The Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 wise one. How guard you your Ring from 
 thieves?" 
 
 " Does Logi think that all are as foolish as 
 himself ?" asked Alberich. " That danger I pro- 
 vided for. A Cap of Darkness, called the Tarn- 
 helm, is mine, to change me into whatever shape 
 I wish, and also to hide me at any time. So, 
 my friend, guard I my Ring, sleeping or waking, 
 as I wish." 
 
 " Wondrous above all it seems !" cried Logi. 
 " Prove it, O Dwarf !" 
 
 " That I will. What shape shall I take ?" 
 
 " Whatever you wish," answered Logi. " It is 
 sure to be wonderful." 
 
 Alberich placed the metal cap upon his head 
 and became a great dragon, writhing on the 
 ground. 
 
 " Wonderful !" cried the gods. 
 
 " Yet I should again hke to behold its magic. 
 Is it possible to become small as well as large by 
 its aid ?" asked Logi. " I beg of you show us if 
 you can become small, O great one !" 
 
 " Nothing easier !" cried Alberich, beginning 
 to enjoy himself. " Look, then, O gods !" He 
 placed the helmet on his head and vanished. A 
 toad hopped on the ground in his stead. 
 
 "Quick! Hold him!" cried the Fire God;
 
 Nibelheun 23 
 
 and Wotan firmly held the toad with his foot, 
 while Logi lifted up the Tarnhelm, which still 
 rested upon its great head. And behold ! Al- 
 berich lay at their feet, struggling and roaring 
 with rage. 
 
 The Fire God produced a rope, and the two 
 gods bound the Nibelung and carried him with 
 them up the dark passage-way through which 
 they had descended, and left behind them the 
 crimson fires, the clanging hammers, the gloom, 
 and hopelessness of Nibelheim.
 
 -G- 
 
 *^ 
 
 -y—g- 
 
 ^ ' V \ 
 
 Motif of Alberich''s Spell 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE RAINBOW BRIDGE 
 
 Out of the underground world into the wild, 
 mountainous country above, veiled still with the 
 strange gray mist of age, came the two gods and 
 their captive, Alberich. 
 
 He was snarling and grumbling, being much 
 enraged at being bound by the hated gods, and, 
 above all, at having his beloved Tarnhelm in the 
 hands of Logi, whom he especially detested. Also, 
 he feared that he would be forced to give up the 
 Ring, which he still wore on his finger ; and, partly 
 to prevent the gods from wishing for this, he soon 
 consented to give them the hoard which his ser- 
 vants, the Nibelungs, had collected in Nibelheim. 
 Touching the Ring with his lips, he murmured a 
 command, or spell, and from the under -world 
 came the little dark dwarfs bearing great loads 
 of treasure, which they placed at his feet.
 
 The Rainbow Bridge 25 
 
 Ashamed, and hating that they should see him 
 a captive', Alberich loudly ordered them off with 
 threats and harsh words, and then demanded that 
 the gods should release him, while the Nibelungs 
 crept back into the dark hole that led to Nibel- 
 heim. 
 
 Logi, casting the Tarnhelm upon the pile, asked 
 if the Dwarf should be freed. 
 
 " He wears a bright Ring," said the King God. 
 " Let it be added to the heap I" 
 
 " The Ring !" wildly cried Alberich. " The 
 Ring ! I will never give it up! It is mine !" 
 
 "Thief! You stole it from the Rhine Chil- 
 dren," said VVotan. " Do you call it, then, 
 yours ?" and he tore the Ring from Alberich's 
 finger and placed it on his own. 
 
 " Let him go !" he said to Logi, who obeyed, 
 and the Nibelung was free. Rising from the 
 ground, he glared horribly at the gods. 
 
 " Listen to the spell I cast on the Ring I" he 
 said, with a peal of wild laughter. " None who 
 possess it shall ever through it come to happi- 
 ness. Sorrow attends it, and whoever owns it 
 shall know grief. His death shall be sad, his life 
 a failure. This doom shall attend the Ring until 
 it comes back to my hand. Hear the spell Al- 
 berich has placed on the Gold !"
 
 26 The Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 He laughed again, and vanished in the dark 
 hole that led to Nibelheim. 
 
 Wotan stood silently gazing at the Ring on 
 his finger. Logi, looking off in the distance, 
 saw Fasolt and Fafner nearing, with Friea. As 
 she came closer, the gray mist began to clear 
 slightly away, though it still hung about in 
 heavy clouds, hiding Walhalla's spires. Fricka, 
 Thor, and Froh, quickly drawing near from an- 
 other direction, spoke of the growing warmth 
 and clearness of the air. 
 
 " Dear sister, welcome back to us !" cried 
 Fricka, as the giants strode out with Friea. 
 But, when the two goddesses started forward 
 to meet each other, Fasolt caught hold of his 
 captive and held her fast. 
 
 " Wait ! Wait !" he cried. " Where is the ran- 
 som? 
 
 " Behold it !" said Wotan, pointing to the heap 
 of treasure. 
 
 The giants declared that when a pile of gold 
 had been erected high enough to hide the 
 Love Goddess from view, they would return 
 her to the gods — but not before. Accordingly, 
 a heap was made which, as it grew higher with 
 added treasure, soon hid Friea entirely, save 
 for a gleam of her bright hair, which Fafner's
 
 The Rainbow Bridge 27 
 
 keen eye descried. The Tarnhelm must go to 
 hide it. 
 
 That accomplished, Fasolt strained his eyes to 
 find an unfilled crevice. Through a tiny space he 
 beheld one of the goddess's eyes, and demanded 
 the Ring to fill up the chink. 
 
 " The Ring !" exclaimed Wotan, starting back. 
 
 "The Ring!" cried Logi. "Nonsense! It is 
 the Rhine Children's treasure. The King God 
 will return it to them." 
 
 " Foolish you are," said Wotan, in a low voice. 
 " I shall keep it myself." 
 
 " Bad is the prospect for the fulfilment of my 
 promise to the weeping Rhine Children," said 
 Logi, softly. 
 
 "Your promise does not bind me." said the 
 King of the Gods. " I shall keep the Ring." 
 
 " Hand over the ransom !" cried Fafner, loudly. 
 
 "Never!" said Wotan. 
 
 " Then Friea is ours !" roared the giants, and 
 they grasped her once more. 
 
 The gods, in chorus, begged Wotan to give 
 the wranglers the treasure, but he was deaf to 
 their entreaties. His eyes were fastened upon 
 the bright Ring's glitter ; he was blind to all else. 
 
 Suddenly the light seemed to die out from the 
 world. All grew dark. From a black chasm in
 
 28 TJie Story of the Rkinegold 
 
 the rocks rose a woman's figure in a strange halo 
 of blue light. Her face was pale, with a look of 
 deepest mystery upon it. Lifting her hand, she 
 spoke in low, solemn tones to Wotan : 
 
 " Hear my warning ! Avoid the Ring, with its 
 terrible spell ! Heed me, O Wotan !" 
 
 "Who are you who warn me?" asked the god. 
 
 "I understand all things; wisest in all the 
 world am I. The witch-wife Erda, men call me, 
 Mother of the Norns. Listen, listen, listen ! A 
 day of dusk and gloom is coming for the gods. 
 Beware of the Ring I" 
 
 She sank down into the earth once more. 
 The blue light faded away. As she vanished 
 she spoke again : 
 
 "Think well on \A'hat I have said!" 
 
 She was gone. Slowly the light came back to 
 the world. Lost in thought, Wotan stood a mo- 
 ment ; then turned quickly to the giants, and 
 tore the Ring from. his finger. 
 
 " It is yours !" he declared ; and he tossed it 
 on to the pile. "" Back to us, Friea !" and the 
 Love Goddess gladly flew back to their midst. 
 
 Fafner and Fasolt began fighting over the 
 Ring at once, and Alberich's -dark spell quickly 
 made itself felt. For Fasolt, seizing the Ring, 
 was killed by his brother, who, with Ring and
 
 TJie Rainbow Bridge 29 
 
 treasure, fled away to a far cave, named Hate 
 Hole, and there, in the shape of a great dragon, 
 guarded his hoard in loneliness for many years. 
 But that is a different part of my story. 
 
 After the death of Fasolt and the flight of 
 Fafner with the treasure, the clouds hanging 
 low over the gods were cleared away by a great 
 storm, and, as Walhalla appeared shining in the 
 sun, a rainbow bridge spanned the space be- 
 tween the palace and the gods, who passed over 
 it to their new home. 
 
 "These gods — how foolish and blind!" said 
 Logi to himself, as he went with them. " I feel 
 ashamed that I am one of them, bound to share 
 in their doings." 
 
 The beautiful palace glittered brightly. The 
 gods smiled as they passed over the rainbow 
 bridge. Only from the Rhine below there came 
 a sound of wailing. 
 
 " O Rhinegold ! Rhinegold !" sang the weep- 
 ing Rhine daughters. " We long for your light. 
 Trustful are those in the water ; false are those 
 above." 
 
 m^^^m- 
 
 Walhalla Motif
 
 Ipart flU 
 
 THE WARRIOR GODDESS, or DIR 
 WALKURE
 
 \
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^^m 
 
 Storm Motif 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 I SHALL now take a long leap in my story, 
 going on to a time when the gods had been 
 happy in Walhalla for many years. Wotan 
 alone felt dreary forebodings, though, as yet, 
 there were no real signs of any downfall of the 
 gods. So heavy were these presentiments that 
 he began to fill his halls with heroes able to 
 defend Walhalla, if Alberich should ever regain 
 the Ring, and, keeping his word, storm the gates 
 of the gods' palace. At Wotan's command, his 
 nine daughters, the Walkiires (or Warrior God- 
 desses) watched over all combats between he- 
 roes, carrying those who were killed to Walhalla, 
 where Friea's smiles brought them to life again. 
 
 And this was not the only strange thing that 
 had come to pass since the gods had entered 
 their new palace. 
 
 Among Wotan's descendants were a race of 
 people called the Volsungs, and at the time of 
 3
 
 34 The Story of the Rliinegold 
 
 which I am writing only two of them were alive, 
 a boy and a girl, who had been brought up from 
 babyhood almost like brother and sister, and 
 who were very much alike, having the golden 
 hair of their ancestor Wotan, and eyes in which 
 there was a curious glitter, as bright as that of 
 the snake's glance. 
 
 Both were as beautiful as the sun, like all the 
 Vdlsungs ; both were strong and warm-hearted 
 and noble, and they loved each other as much as 
 though they had been really brother and sister. 
 
 While still very young, they became separated 
 for years; for, while the boy was out hunting, 
 the girl, Sieglinde, was stolen away by a robber 
 named Hunding. She led a dreary life as the 
 Robber's servant, until she became a woman. 
 But she alv/ays felt confident that help would 
 come to her in time, because one night, at a 
 feast given by Hunding, a stranger had entered, 
 robed in the rough garb of a wanderer, but with 
 kingly bearing. One of his eyes was missing. 
 He had struck a sword into the trunk of a great 
 tree which grew up from the centre of Hunding's 
 house, declaring that whoever could draw it out 
 should have it for his own. And all had tried 
 their best, but the blade would not yield an 
 inch.
 
 Prelude 3 5 
 
 Then the Wanderer had laughed and depart- 
 ed. But Sieglinde, thinking of it dreamily, re- 
 membered that, while he had frowned on the 
 others, he had looked kindly on her ; and, gaz- 
 ing at the sword, she began to feel, after a while, 
 that whoever could pull it forth would be her 
 rescuer. And so the years passed. 
 
 She did not know that the Wanderer had 
 been none other than the first father of all 
 the race of Volsungs — Wotan, the king of the 
 gods. 
 
 Siegmund, the boy, as he grew to manhood, 
 became a very wolf in wildness, but a great war- 
 rior, and a stanch hero. He led a roving life, 
 with few friends, and, alas! many enemies. His 
 generous heart brought him into sad dilemmas 
 sometimes; as, for instance, when, at a maid- 
 en's request, he defended her from her relations, 
 who wished to marry her to some one whom she 
 hated. When, in doing battle for her, he killed 
 one of her kinsmen, she had flung herself upon 
 the dead man and accused her defender of 
 cruelty. 
 
 He fought the rude warriors who were press- 
 ing up about her until his weapons were torn 
 from him, and he was driven away into the 
 woods through a wild storm which seemed to
 
 36 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 blow him on with irresistible violence, until he 
 found himself at the door of a house. 
 
 Utterly exhausted, he staggered in, filled only 
 with the desire to rest and shelter his tired body 
 from the storm. And the house was that of 
 Hunding, the Robber.
 
 I 
 
 ■ g ^ iiiBL^_ 
 
 U: 4 4^ 
 
 Hunding Motif 
 
 trr 
 
 ^ 
 
 -«>- 
 
 -(5'- 
 
 =!< 
 
 Volsung Motif 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE HOUSE OF HUNDING 
 
 Outside the storm was raging, the great 
 pines were bending in the wild gale, the thun- 
 der and lightning were in mad commotion. 
 
 Inside, rude as the hut was, there were warmth 
 and apparent peace. A large fire burned on the 
 hearth, and sent its fitful glare from time to time 
 flashing about the bare hall ; now shining on the 
 sword-hilt in the great oak-tree growing in the 
 centre ; now lighting the dark corners with a 
 faint red gleam, A heap of skins was beside 
 the hearth, and upon this Siegmund sank ex- 
 hausted. 
 
 As he lay there the door opened, and Sieg-
 
 38 Tlie Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 linde came quickly from an inner room. Fright- 
 ened by the sight of a stranger, she accosted 
 him in trembhng tones. Receiving no answer, 
 she came nearer, and, looking down at him, she 
 saw a strong, tall man, with golden hair, and 
 a face as beautiful as the sun. Caught over his 
 shoulder was a great black bear -skin, and his 
 face was like that of a king among men. His 
 eyes were closed as she bent over him ; but, 
 after a moment or two, he opened them and 
 gasped faintly, " Water ! Water !" only to sink 
 back once more, exhausted, as Sieglinde hast- 
 ened away to draw him a draught at the spring. 
 She was soon back with what he had asked for, 
 and, giving it, looked down kindly as he drank. 
 
 When he had finished, he gazed up at her and 
 saw a beautiful maiden, with the rough, gray skin 
 of some wild animal worn loosely over her long 
 white robe. She had hair of as deep a gold as 
 his own, and a face full of sweetness and a sym- 
 pathy that he had never known before. 
 
 Rising from the hearth, he gently wished her 
 good fortune, and thanked her for her kindness 
 to a friendless man, who must now pass on his 
 way lest the sorrow which followed his foot- 
 steps should come to her ; and, so saying, was 
 about to leave the house when Sieglinde, who
 
 The House of Hundmg 39 
 
 in some way felt that this man was to be her 
 rescuer, sprang forward and begged him to stay, 
 saying that as sorrow had dwelt in the house for 
 man)' days she did not fear its coming. So he 
 consented to remain until Hunding, who was out 
 hunting, should return. 
 
 Going back to the hearth, he stood there 
 quietly looking, in a long silence, towards Sieg- 
 linde, and both felt, I think, that it was Fate 
 that he, and none other, should stay and rescue 
 her. So they stood silently waiting for the Rob- 
 ber's return, and the fire crackled and glowed 
 and flickered about the hall. 
 
 Suddenly, Sieglinde started ; for the sound of 
 hoofs broke the stillness, and they could hear 
 the Robber leading his horse to the stable. Al- 
 most directly afterwards the door opened, and 
 Hunding himself came in. He was not a pleas- 
 ant-looking creature, for he was very tall and 
 very broad-shouldered, and as wild in appear- 
 ance as a wolf, and his face was dark and angry. 
 His long hair and beard were black and tan- 
 gled, his eyes were fierce, and he wore queer, 
 jangling armor and bands of steel on his bare 
 arms. 
 
 He stopped short, and sternly pointed to the 
 stranger, glaring at Sieglinde in great anger.
 
 40 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 Reading a fierce question in his look, she an- 
 swered, quietly : 
 
 " I found this man weary upon the hearth. 
 Need drove him into the house." 
 
 Hunding relented a little ; and, after handing 
 her his shield and weapons, said quietly to Sieg- 
 mund : 
 
 " Safe is my hearth ! Safe for you is my 
 house!" Then, turning to Sieglinde, he rough- 
 ly bade her hasten with the supper. She bore 
 away the heavy weapons and rested them against 
 the tree in the centre of the hall ; then went about 
 arranging the evening meal. As they sat down 
 on the rough seats around the scantily spread 
 table, Hunding asked his guest his name, and 
 whence he had come on so stormy a night. 
 Sieglinde leaned eagerly forward as the warrior 
 began his tale. 
 
 He told them the story of his life, only call- 
 ing himself Woful the Wolfing instead of Sieg- 
 mund the Volsung. And when he came to the 
 tale of the maiden and her kinsmen, and of how 
 he had killed one of them, and fought the others 
 until he was disarmed and driven into the forest, 
 Hunding rose in great anger and stood looking 
 at his guest with wrath in his eyes. 
 
 " You win every one's hate," he declared.
 
 The House of Hiindmg 41 
 
 " My friends sent for n:ie to help them revenge 
 the shedding of blood. I went to their aid, but 
 it was too late. Now, when I return, I find the 
 enemy himself upon my hearth. They were my 
 friends against whom you fought ; and, though 
 to-night custom makes you safe as a guest in 
 my house, to-morrow you shall die, Wolfing! 
 So be prepared !" 
 
 So both the Robber and his servant, the maid- 
 en Sieglinde, went away, leaving Siegmund alone 
 by the hearth, sad and a little perplexed. For 
 Sieglinde, as she left the hall, had pointed swiftly 
 towards the sword - hilt buried in the tree. The 
 fire leaped up wildly as he stood gazing towards 
 the oak, and the light touched the bright hilt 
 and painted it red for a moment, then died once 
 more. Siegmund dreamily wondered if the light 
 on the steel had been left by the glance Sieg- 
 linde had cast towards it. For you see he had 
 fallen in love with this lovely woman, who look- 
 ed at him so kindly, and whose face was as fair 
 and beautiful as the sun. 
 
 The gold and rosy flashes from the fire grew 
 fainter, the shadows deepened, and Siegmund 
 fell asleep. 
 
 Now perhaps you wonder why he stayed there 
 instead of going out into the night, where he
 
 42 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 would be safe. There were three good reasons 
 to keep him. 
 
 In the first place, he was too brave a hero to 
 fly from danger ; and, in the second place, he 
 did not want to leave the beautiful maiden alone 
 in the Robber's power; and the third reason was 
 as good a one as either of the others. Hunding 
 had said : " Custom makes you safe as a guest in 
 my house," which meant that it would be both 
 unfair and wrong if he, Hunding, killed a stran- 
 ger taking shelter under his roof. This was 
 called the Law of Hospitality, and the law was 
 never taken advantage of by any honorable 
 guest. So, if Siegmund had run away after 
 Hunding had so well observed the Law of Hos- 
 pitality he would have been dishonorable as 
 well as cowardly, and it was just as though he 
 had given a promise that he would not go away 
 that night. 
 
 In the meantime Siegmund lay asleep. From 
 an inner room came the beautiful maiden swiftly 
 to his side. Awaking him, she told him to hurry 
 away while there was yet time. She said that 
 she had sprinkled some sleep spices into Hund- 
 ing's wine, and that he would slumber soundly 
 and long ; and she begged the guest to go away 
 quietly into the night and save himself.
 
 The House of Hunding 43 
 
 Finally, she told him of the Wanderer who had 
 come and struck the sword into the oak-tree, and 
 told him, too, how she had waited in vain for 
 some hero who would draw forth the sword and 
 rescue her. 
 
 Siegmund said that he would claim the sword 
 for his own, and drag it from the tree, and, as 
 he spoke, the door opened wide. Perhaps the 
 good fairies unlatched it. Without, it was very 
 still ; the storm had ceased, and the moon was 
 shining wondrously. 
 
 Then Sieglinde, looking in his face, seemed 
 to see there a resemblance to some one she had 
 known long ago, and, gazing into his eyes, she 
 asked him if he were really a Wolfing. 
 
 " No, a Volsung !" replied the hero, proudly. 
 And she cried out in joy: "A Volsung! Are 
 you, too, a Volsung — one of my race? It was 
 for you, indeed, that the Wanderer struck the 
 sword into the oak." 
 
 Springing to the tree, Siegmund laid his 
 hand on the hilt and broke into a wild chant, 
 naming the sword which he had come to, 
 when in such pressing need, Nothung (or Need- 
 ful). 
 
 With a mighty wrench he drew it out of the 
 oak's trunk, and held it above his head.
 
 44 TJic Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 "I am Siegmund the Volsung!" he shouted, 
 exultantly. 
 
 Then he asked her more gently if she would 
 follow him away from the house of the enemy 
 Hunding, telling her that if she would be his 
 wife he would defend her with Nothung, and 
 make her life one long spring-tide. 
 
 " As you are Siegmund, I am Sieglinde !" cried 
 she, aloud. " It is right that the Volsungs should 
 become joined as one." 
 
 And into the night they went away together; 
 for the storm had ceased and the brightness of 
 the moonlight was most marvellous. 
 
 n 
 
 
 
 -^L. \ 
 
 
 1 r-' 
 
 /^v H 
 
 <5^ \- 
 
 -H-r— # h ■ 
 
 %i^ • 
 
 "T n — ^■ 
 
 -«^— b \ 
 
 tJ 
 
 ' V-- * 
 
 
 Sword Motif
 
 Briinnhilde's Call 
 
 ^ 
 
 " Ho-yo - to - ho 
 
 ^^r^- 
 
 
 -3* 
 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 I 
 
 Motif of the Volsung's heroism 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF WOTAN 
 
 Up in the mountains near a rocky gorge, where 
 the wind swept and the wild pines grew, stood 
 Wotan, king of the gods, and before him, await- 
 ing his orders, was his favorite daughter, Briinn- 
 hilde, the Walkiire. 
 
 She was very beautiful, more beautiful than 
 any woman who ever breathed. Her hair was 
 golden bright, her figure queenly. When she 
 moved, the motion of a bird was not more fleet 
 and graceful, and her face was what you might 
 suppose the face of a goddess would be. She
 
 46 The Story of the Rhincgold 
 
 wore long white robes and glistening armor, 
 and the wings in her bright helmet were like 
 snow. She bore a spear and shield also, for you 
 know she was a goddess of war, and, as her busi- 
 ness was to attend the battles of heroes, she ar- 
 rayed herself accordingly. 
 
 She moved restlessly, and seemed anxious to 
 be off, for at the top of a rocky slope was not 
 her horse, Grani, waiting for her to spring on 
 his back and gallop away through the clouds ? 
 
 Wotan, whom, of course, you remember, stood 
 leaning on his spear. He looked for the moment 
 glad, for he was very fond of his descendants, the 
 Volsungs, and he also believed that Siegmund 
 would one day kill Fafner, the Dragon, with the 
 sword which had been placed in the oak for the 
 purpose, and would return to the Rhine Maidens 
 their treasure. When this should come to pass, 
 the gods would have no more fear of Alberich. 
 
 When Wotan thought of all these possibilities, 
 the dusk of the gods' bright day seemed far off. 
 So it was with a thrill of joy in his voice that he 
 spoke to Briinnhilde, and bade her make ready 
 to attend the fight between Siegmund and Hund- 
 ing, which, as the Robber was already hunting for 
 his guest with fierce hounds, was sure to occur 
 that day.
 
 TJie Daughter of IVotan 47 
 
 "Aid the Volsung, my brave maiden!" said 
 the King God. " Overthrow Hunding! Hasten 
 to the battle!" 
 
 " Hoyotoho !" shouted the Walkiire, waving 
 her spear as she sprang up the rocks. " Hoyo- 
 toho ! Hoyotoho !" 
 
 On a high pinnacle of boulders she paused, 
 and looked down on Wotan once more. " Look 
 well, father ! Here comes Fricka. I leave you 
 to her." 
 
 With a clear burst of laughter she sped on 
 again. Her boisterous " Hoyotoho !" died away 
 among the echoes. 
 
 In a golden car, drawn by two rams^ came 
 Fricka, the queen of the gods. She seemed in 
 great haste, and, springing to the ground, stood 
 in all her majesty before the King God, with 
 anger in her eyes. 
 
 " I ask for right !" she began, drawing her scar- 
 let draperies about her. And she went on to de- 
 mand vengeance for Hunding; vengeance upon 
 Siegmund, the guest, for having taken advantage 
 of the host who had observed so well the Law of 
 Hospitality ; vengeance upon him who, from the 
 house of Hunding, had stolen the Robber's ser- 
 vant, Sieglinde. 
 
 All this made Wotan very unhappy, for he
 
 48 The Story of the Rhine go Id 
 
 loved Siegmund, and already in his heart had 
 forgiven him for what he had done. Yet he 
 knew that all wrong must bring punishment, 
 and asked Fricka what she wished him to do. 
 
 " Call back the Walkure !" said the Queen 
 Goddess, and there was a look of triumph on 
 
 her face. " Break the Volsung's sword ! Prom- 
 
 I" 
 ise me I 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " I — promise," said the god, covering his face 
 with his hands. 
 
 Triumphant and satisfied, Fricka drove away, 
 and, as she went, Briinnhilde, who had returned 
 while the King and Queen were talking together, 
 and had led her horse into a cave near by, came 
 to her father, asking why he seemed so sorrow- 
 ful. 
 
 Tenderly drawing her to him, he told her the 
 story you know so well, of the stealing of the 
 Gold, the building of Walhalla, and the prophecy 
 of Erda. He told her of the day of which the 
 Earth Witch had spoken, when the world would 
 be in twilight and gloom — the Dusk of the Gods. 
 
 He told her, too, the hopes he had had of the 
 great deeds to be done by Siegmund. He let 
 her see how it filled him with the deepest sorrow 
 to overthrow the Volsung. But the Volsung had
 
 The Daughter of Wotan 49 
 
 taken advantage of the Law of Hospitality, and 
 Wotan had promised that he would overthrow 
 him ; and the promise must be kept. He bade 
 her vanquish Siegmund in the coming battle and 
 give the victory to Hunding ; then, heart-broken, 
 he wended his way among the rocks, and was 
 gone. 
 
 Sadly Brunnhilde gazed after him. Her heart, 
 too, was aching, because, though she loved to 
 carry heroes to Walhalla, she loved still more 
 to aid them in battle. She went slowly into 
 the cave. 
 
 It was growing darker. Now, from out the 
 gloom that filled the rocky gorge came Sieg- 
 mund and his beautiful wife, Sieglinde, seeking 
 rest in a sheltered place. Sieglinde was almost 
 exhausted, for the way they had come was long 
 and hard ; and, after trying vainly to make her 
 tired limbs carry her farther, she fainted at the 
 young Volsung's feet. Tenderly he carried her 
 to a rock near by, and, seating himself upon it, 
 gently supported her and stooped down to listen 
 to her breathing. 
 
 \ As he raised his head, satisfied that she still 
 lived, a grave, sweet voice sounded on his ear. 
 He turned his eyes to where stood a beautiful 
 woman in white and steel, one arm on the neck 
 4
 
 50 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 of her horse. It was the Walkure, who, accord- 
 ing to her custom, came to warn the man who 
 was shortly to be killed in battle. It grew still 
 darker. 
 
 " Siegmund," said the Walkure, " look on me ! 
 Soon you must follow me !" 
 
 Siegmund, wondering, asked who she was. 
 
 " Only those who are shortly to die may see 
 my face," answered Briinnhilde. " I bear then:; 
 away to Wotan, in Walhalla. There you will 
 find innumerable heroes who have died in bat- 
 tle. They will welcome you." 
 
 Siegmund asked if his father, Volse, were 
 among the heroes. 
 
 Briinnhilde answered " Yes." 
 
 Quietly the young warrior asked if his beau- 
 tiful bride might accompany him. 
 
 The Walkure slowly shook her head. 
 
 *' Lonely upon the earth she remains," she 
 answered. " Siegmund will see Sieglinde no 
 more." 
 
 " Then greet Walhalla and the heroes for 
 me," said the Volsung; "for there I will fol- 
 low you not." 
 
 "You have looked on the face of the Wal- 
 kiire," said Briinnhilde. " You must die." 
 
 And, by degrees, she made him understand
 
 The Daughter of Wotan 5 1 
 
 that death was awaiting him, that he was doom- 
 ed to be killed by Hunding. In despair Sieg- 
 mund raised Nothung, the sword, and declared 
 that he would kill his wife and himself, so that 
 they might be together in death. But Briinn- 
 hilde, who had felt her heart grow more and 
 more tender towards this unhappy pair, started 
 forward, bidding him hope, and declared that 
 she would help him, instead of Hunding, in the 
 combat, and save both himself and his wife. 
 
 " I shall be with you in battle," she promised; 
 and she hurried away, leading her horse. 
 
 It grew darker and darker. Storm-clouds were 
 gathering, and the rocky gorge was filled with a 
 dense, black shadow. In the distance came the 
 sound of Hunding's horn. Waving his sword, 
 Siegmuftd sprang up the rocks to meet the 
 enemy. 
 
 Sieglinde, dreaming softly where her husband 
 had left her, was awakened by a wild burst of 
 thunder and lightning. She started up frantical- 
 ly, trying to see through the darkness. Clouds 
 were all about her, veiling the rocks on every 
 side. Hunding's deep horn-call sounded near- 
 er and nearer. Finally, from a high rock among 
 the trees on the top of a wooded slope she 
 could hear the voices of the combatants and the
 
 52 TJie Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 clash of weapons. Suddenly, in a vivid glare of 
 lightning, Brunnhilde appeared among the clouds, 
 stooping low over Siegmund, and protecting him 
 with outstretched shield. Clear and strong rang 
 out her voice over the tumult : 
 
 " Be firm, Siegmund ! Strike quickly." 
 
 But now Sieglinde, staring wildly up through 
 the darkness, paralyzed with fright, saw a fierce 
 crimson light — the light that heralded the ap- 
 proach of the angry King God — and Wotan 
 stood revealed in the clouds above Hunding. 
 
 "Away from my spear!" he cried, in a terri- 
 ble voice. " Let the sword be splintered !" And 
 he stretched out his weapon, made from the 
 World -Ash. Nothung was shivered in pieces 
 upon it, and the Robber Hunding, with one blow 
 killed Siegmund, the Volsung. 
 
 With a great cry Sieglinde sank to the ground, 
 but through the cloudy darkness came Briinn- 
 hilde. She lifted the poor woman on her horse, 
 and, urging Grani to flight, sped away through 
 the clouds. 
 
 Wotan, left alone with the Robber, turned 
 towards him in contemptuous anger. Before 
 his gaze Hunding sank to the earth in death. 
 
 Suddenly the King God burst into supreme 
 wrath.
 
 Tlie Daughter of Wotan 
 
 53 
 
 " Briinnhilde, who has disobeyed me, must be 
 punished !" he cried. And, leaping upon his war- 
 horse, he was gone through the clouds. 
 
 S3: 
 
 -i» 
 
 5 
 
 ^# 
 
 Baa 
 
 -i^—9-xi*-. 
 
 tr^ 
 
 5 
 
 Motif of Siegmund and Sieglinde's Love
 
 ^^M 
 
 t 
 
 ^ 
 
 Motif of the Walkiires' Ride 
 
 n +f tt 
 
 ■iS>- . 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 -<s^ • 
 
 / ftu.*tt ' 1* • - • ' 
 
 
 * - 
 
 
 ~/ t i* 
 
 r * . ^11 
 
 1 
 
 i r • f» 
 
 
 />-\ ^ 1 i ' 1 
 
 
 
 X. y «^ ! . 1 1 
 
 "■fci " 
 
 
 tJ 
 
 «N + 
 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 + 
 
 Motif of Briinnhilde's Pleading 
 
 If^ttit 
 
 Slumber Motif 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 BRUNNHILDE S PUNISHMENT 
 
 It was a custom of the Walkiires to meet 
 every evening after their wild rides, at a rock 
 called " The Walkiires' Stone," and thence go 
 on to Walhalla. 
 
 Upon the afternoon of the combat which had 
 proved fatal to the Volsung, the Walkiires ar- 
 rived one after the other at the rock. Only one 
 was missing — Wotan's favorite, Briinnhilde. 
 
 The maidens sang merrily their Hoyotoho, 
 waved their spears and climbed the rocks, and
 
 BriinnJiildes Punishment 55 
 
 kept a sharp lookout for Grani's appearance in 
 the clouds. But it was very late before Briinn- 
 hilde was anywhere to be seen. When she 
 came, she brought with her Sieglinde, whom 
 she was supporting. In answer to her sisters' 
 anxious inquiries, the Walkiire told them of her 
 disobedience and Sieglinde's sorrow, and begged 
 them to protect Siegmund's *vife, and herself 
 as well. 
 
 " And see, O sisters, if Wotan draws nigh !" 
 she begged. 
 
 " A thunder-cloud approaches," called Ort- 
 linda, one of the Walkiires, from her high pin- 
 nacle of rock. 
 
 " The clouds grow thicker," cried Waltrauta. 
 " Our father comes," they exclaimed in uni- 
 son. 
 
 " Shelter this woman," begged Briinnhilde. 
 For she knew that Wotan, in his rage, might 
 kill the wife of the warrior whom he had over- 
 thrown. But the maidens feared their father's 
 anger, and would give no aid. So, at last, Briinn- 
 hilde told Sieglinde to fly and hide herself in 
 the forest, and that she, the Walkiire, would re- 
 main behind to bear the brunt ofWotan's an- 
 ger, Briinnhilde drew from under her shield the 
 splinters of Nothung, which she had picked up
 
 56 The Story of the Rhincgold 
 
 on the battle-field, and gave them with words 
 of kindness and comfort to Sieglinde, who, mur- 
 muring tender thanks, sped away into the woods 
 and was gone. 
 
 Then even Briinnhilde's brave heart began to 
 fail her. A great storm had arisen, and amid 
 the crash of thunder came Wotan's voice 
 calling her name in tones of anger. Trem- 
 bling, she took her place in the centre of the 
 group of maidens, concealed from view by 
 them. 
 
 Surrounded by red light came Wotan, having 
 left his war-steed snorting in the wood. 
 
 " Where is Briinnhilde ?" he demanded. But 
 the Walkiires, in trembling tones, merely asked 
 the cause of his anger. In growing rage, Wo- 
 tan commanded Briinnhilde to come forward 
 and receive her punishment, reproaching her 
 in scornful words for hiding among her sis- 
 ters. 
 
 Quietly the Walkiire came out from among 
 them, and stood before him. She was quite 
 ready to receive her sentence, whatever it might 
 be, and bent her head to listen to her father's 
 words. 
 
 Her punishment, Wotan told her, was to be 
 this : She was to be laid in helpless sleep, at the
 
 Briinnhilde s Punishmejit 57 
 
 mercy of the first passer-by who might choose 
 to awaken her. Him she must follow as his 
 wife, for, when she was awakened from her 
 sleep, she would be a woman — a goddess no 
 longer. 
 
 Heart-broken, Briinnhilde sank to the ground 
 with a cry. To be made mortal seemed to her 
 the most terrible punishment possible. And it 
 seemed so to the other Walkiires as well. They 
 besought the King God to have mercy on their 
 sister,' but he was firm. 
 
 Amid wails of despair and pity for Briinnhilde, 
 the Walkiires separated and rushed wildly out of 
 sight in all directions. Only the echoes of their 
 cries and the last faint sound of their horses' 
 hoofs remained as they rode off through the 
 clouds. 
 
 The storm died away. All was quiet now. 
 Slowly Brunnhilde rose from where she lay and 
 pleadingly spoke to her father, asking pardon for 
 her disobedience and begging for some mercy 
 and tenderness. At last, when she found that, 
 though he still loved her as dearly as ever, he 
 was firm in his decision, she asked only one fa- 
 vor of him — a last one — that he should place a 
 circle of flame about the rock where she was to 
 be laid asleep, flame so fierce and high that only
 
 58 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 a brave man might come through it and awaken 
 her. 
 
 Wotan consented, and, overcome by his love 
 for her, drew her into his arms in a last, sad em- 
 brace. He bade her farewell with a tenderness 
 that comforted her even then, and, stooping, kiss- 
 ed her long and lovingly. 
 
 Her eyes closed. Her head sank back against 
 his shoulder. Laying her on a rock that made 
 a rude couch, he placed her shield on her arm 
 and her spear at her side. He looked dow^n with 
 deepest sorrow on the face of this, his most beau- 
 tiful child, the War Goddess, and then, raising 
 his spear, commanded Logi to light a ring of fire 
 about the rock. 
 
 Great billows of flame spread from left to 
 right, and glowed in a brilliant circle about the 
 sleeping goddess, casting a dim glare on her fig- 
 ure, and lighting up the quiet night-sky. 
 
 Standing in the red firelight, Wotan once more 
 stretched out his spear in a spell, and pronounced 
 these words : 
 
 " Only he who fears not my spear can pass 
 through this fiery bar." 
 
 And, so saying, he passed from out the charm- 
 ed circle and left behind him the Walkiire in her 
 long, fire -watched sleep, to be broken only by
 
 Briin nJi ildcs Pu n ish inoit 
 
 59 
 
 one who feared not even the spear of Wotan, 
 the king of the gods. 
 
 The Sleep of the Walkiire
 
 ©art Ifirir 
 
 SIEGFRIED
 
 Motif of Mime's Meditation 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 When Sieglinde ran into the woods with the 
 pieces of the broken sword, Nothun^, she took 
 shelter in a cave where a wicked old dwarf lived 
 alone. There a little boy was born. But Sieg- 
 linde had never thoroughly recovered from the 
 shock of her husband's death. The way through 
 the woods had been diflficult, and she had en- 
 dured great hardships ; so one day she called 
 the Dwarf to her and gave him the broken sword, 
 telling him to keep it for her son until he grew 
 old enough to have a weapon of his own, and 
 she told the Dwarf that she was Sieglinde, and 
 that her husband had been Siegmund, the Vol- 
 sung, and she finally said that she wanted the 
 child to be named Siegfried ; then she sank back 
 and died. And so Siegfried, who was a very 
 little baby then, never, really, saw either his 
 father or mother. 
 
 The only father he knew, as he grew older,
 
 64 The Story of the Rliiiiegold 
 
 was the Dwarf, who was none other than Mime 
 Alberich's half-brother. And he could not help 
 knowing that Mime was wicked and sly, though 
 the Dwarf pretended to love his foster-son, and 
 tried to arouse some love in return. 
 
 Now, perhaps, you wonder, if Mime was so 
 wicked, why he took care of the boy. I will 
 tell you. 
 
 Mime, like every one else, wanted the Rhine- 
 gold, and could, not get it, for Fafner, the Drag- 
 on, guarded it by night and day at Hate Hole. 
 And being as sly and evil-minded as the rest of 
 the Nibelungs, he had concocted a plot by which 
 he thought he could obtain it. He hoped Sieg- 
 fried, when he grew older, would slay Fafner 
 with the sword Nothung, and win the Rhine- 
 gold. You see he hoped to accomplish Fafner's 
 death through Siegfried, just as VVotan had 
 once tried to do through Siegmund. Only, af- 
 ter Siegfried had attained the Gold, Mime hoped 
 to be able to poison him and steal from him the 
 treasure. 
 
 But, to accomplish this, the broken sword 
 must be mended, and this Mime could not do. 
 Its splintered edges baffled even him — clever 
 smith as he was. So he set to work forging 
 other swords, and trying to fashion a blade keen
 
 Prelude 65 
 
 enough to satisfy the boy-Volsung, and also to 
 kill the Dragon at Hate Hole. But every weap- 
 on he made Siegfried broke into pieces, and de- 
 manded a stronger and still stronger sword, until 
 Mime was in despair. 
 
 It angered him terribly, too, that Siegfried, 
 more by instinct than anything else, knew how 
 wicked his heart was, and how full of bad, cruel 
 thoughts. The little, dark Nibelung could not 
 understand how the boy, beautiful as the sun, 
 golden-haired and keen-eyed, strong of limb and 
 true of heart, loved to roam in the wide for- 
 ests all the day, merrily blowing his silver horn 
 and making friends with the woodland creatures, 
 only returning to Mime's cave at night. He 
 could not realize the pleasure that the soft for- 
 est voices gave to the youth just growing into 
 manhood ; how he loved the wolves and bears 
 better than the cringing, evil-eyed, horrible little 
 Dwarf in the cave at home — the only home he 
 knew. 
 
 As for Siegfried, the only thing he wondered 
 at was that he ever went back to the cave at all. 
 Why did he not roam away forever into the 
 forest, search out that far, strange place called 
 the world, that really seemed as if it must be a 
 different universe from the one in which he lived ? 
 5
 
 66 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 He could not tell. He only knew that a strange, 
 irresistible something seemed to draw him back to 
 Mime's side every night — a something he could 
 not explain or even understand. Meanwhile time 
 passed.
 
 ■^^lEI 
 
 Sii^jf 
 
 
 fe 
 
 P 
 
 i KJ — J = i 
 
 i 
 
 ztftn^ 
 
 r 
 
 T 
 
 ♦ r' '3 ' 
 
 -tS^ 
 
 Motif of Forest Life, sometimes called Motif of Love Life 
 Motif of the Forging of Nothung 
 
 (^ tr tr I ^ I I 
 
 Ife 
 
 £ 
 
 / 
 
 ^ 
 
 -<a- 
 
 1;^=^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 l22- 
 
 3t=^ 
 
 s 
 
 
 P 
 
 ei- 
 
 I^ 
 
 if 
 
 S 
 
 dim. 
 
 -(S*- 
 
 — (Si- 
 
 
 -©-- 
 
 V— 5^ 
 
 ->S'- 
 
 -z?- 
 
 I 
 
 ■ No-thung ! No - thung ! No-ta-ble Sword !" 
 
 CHAPTER i 
 
 SIEGFRIED AND MIME 
 
 The cave was a dark one, but it was not al- 
 together a bad place in which to live. It was 
 as lofty as a stately cathedral, and the Dwarf's 
 forge, built on one side, lent a fitful red light and 
 a little warmth to the dim, cold atmosphere.
 
 68 TJie Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 Skins of animals gave it a semblance of com- 
 fort ; and, indeed, to a wild creature like Sieg- 
 fried, it would have been a most desirable home 
 had it not been for the continual presence of 
 Mime. On the day on which I will open my 
 story. Mime was sitting on a low stool trying to 
 fashion a sword which would not break in the 
 hands of the impetuous young Volsung, who, 
 at that particular moment, was, as usual, out in 
 the woods with his friends, the wild beasts. As 
 he hammered. Mime grumbled crossly because he 
 had to work forever with swords that seemed of 
 no use to the crazy boy, who insisted on smash- 
 ing them all, and racing off to the woods, merely 
 demanding as he went a better and a stronger 
 weapon. 
 
 " There is a blade that he could not break," 
 muttered the Nibelung, as he worked. " No- 
 thung he would find firm in his hands, but I can- 
 not weld the splinters. Ah! if I could, I should 
 be well repaid." He paused, and then went on, 
 mysteriously murmuring to himself : 
 
 " Fafner, the great, wicked worm ! Well guards 
 he the Rhinegold. Only Siegfried can overthrow 
 him. This can only be done by Nothung, I feel 
 sure. And, alas ! I cannot shape Nothung, the 
 sword."
 
 Siegfried and Mime 69 
 
 He began to hammer once more, grumbling 
 continually because Siegfried insisted that he 
 should make swords, and snarling with rage be- 
 cause every weapon he forged fell to pieces in 
 the boy's strong hands. 
 
 Suddenly, from without, came a clear, merry 
 voice, shouting a blithe " Hoyho !" and the next 
 moment in came Siegfried himself, leading a 
 great bear, which he had harnessed with a bit 
 of rope. 
 
 " Ask the foolish smith if he has finished the 
 sword. Bruin !" he cried to the bear, and, holding 
 back the great creature firmly, he pretended to 
 chase Mime, who, springing behind the anvil, 
 cried, savagely : 
 
 " Take him away ! I don't want the bear ! I 
 have done my best with your sword." 
 
 " Good !" laughed the boy. " Good-bye, Bruin ; 
 run away," and he freed the great creature, send- 
 ing him lumbering off into the woods again. 
 
 Then, turning to the trembling Nibelung, he 
 again asked for the sword, and Mime handed it 
 to him. The young Volsung took it into his 
 hands quickly, scorn on his handsome face and 
 anger in his eyes. He was dressed in a wild for- 
 est costume of wolf -skins, and his yellow hair 
 curled over his shoulders. He, indeed, made a
 
 70 The Story of the RJdnegold 
 
 great contrast to Mime, and one could not won- 
 der that they did not get on well together. 
 
 "What a toy!" he cried out. "Do you call 
 this a sword ?" and, striking it on the anvil, he 
 broke the blade into a hundred slivers, and then 
 burst into a rage with the smith, who had pre- 
 tended to give him a sword fit for battle, and 
 had shaped him so foolish a switch, as he called 
 it. And finally, thoroughly out of breath, he 
 flung himself upon the stone couch at one side, 
 and not all Mime's coaxings could appease his 
 anger. He finally confessed that he did not 
 know why he ever returned to the cave, be- 
 cause, he said frankly, he could not help detest- 
 ing the Dwarf, and was much happier when away 
 from him. And then he broke into a passionate 
 description of the wood-life he loved so well; the 
 mating of the birds in the spring-time, and the 
 way they loved and helped each other; the care 
 that the mother deer lavished upon her little 
 ones ; the tenderness among all the forest creat- 
 ures that seemed so beautiful and mysterious 
 to him. 
 
 " I learned watching them," said Siegfried, al- 
 most sorrowfully, " what love must be. Mime, 
 where is she whom / may call mother?" 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Mime, and tried to draw
 
 Siegfried and Mime 7 1 
 
 Siegfried's mind away from the dangerous topic; 
 for he had never told him anything about his 
 parents, always calling him his own son. And 
 he feared the boy's anger if he should ever know 
 that he had been deceived. 
 
 But, thoroughly aroused, the young Volsung 
 fiercely demanded the names of his father and 
 mother, declaring that he was far too unlike 
 Mime to be his son. At last the Nibelung con- 
 fessed the truth, and told him the story of his 
 mother's death, and of how she had left her child 
 in his care. And, when the boy asked for proof, 
 he slowly crept away, to return with the broken 
 sword Nothung, the mending of which was so 
 hard a riddle even to his sly brain. 
 
 Wildly excited, Siegfried commanded him to 
 work at it anew and do his best to weld the 
 pieces ; and, with a shout of delight and hope, 
 he went merrily away into the woods, leaving 
 Mime in saddest, deepest perplexity. 
 
 Despairing, he murmured at the hopelessness 
 of the task, which his rather unruly young charge 
 had set him, and was sitting, a picture of dis- 
 couragement and misery, when from the dark 
 woods came a stranger clad as a wanderer, and 
 bearing a great spear. He advanced to the door 
 of the cave and asked in slow, grave tones for
 
 72 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 rest and shelter. Mime was at first frightened, 
 then angry, and finally refused to harbor the 
 strange guest, until the Wanderer made the fol- 
 lowing proposal: Mime was to ask him three 
 questions, and if they were not correctly answer- 
 ed the host should have the privilege of cutting 
 oflF his guest's head. To this Mime consented, 
 and, after a little thought, thus chose his first 
 question : 
 
 " Tell me what is the race down in the earth's 
 depths?" 
 
 And the Wanderer made answer: "In the 
 earth's depths dwell the Nibelungs. Nibelheim 
 is their land. Once they were ruled by Black 
 Alberich, who owned a magic Ring by which 
 he possessed untold wealth. What is the next 
 question?" 
 
 Again Mime pondered. 
 
 " Now, Wanderer, since you know so much of 
 the earth's depths," he said, " tell me what is 
 the race that dwells upon its surface?" 
 
 " The giants dwell upon its surface. Two of 
 them, Fasolt and Fafner, fought for Black Al- 
 berich's hoard. Fafner guards it now as a drag- 
 on. Put your third question !" 
 
 "What race dwells in the sky above?" de- 
 manded Mime. 
 
 I
 
 Siegfried a) id Mime 73 
 
 And the Wanderer answered, majestically: 
 
 " The gods dwell above in Walhalla. Their 
 King is Wotan, who owns a spear made of the 
 World -Ash. With that spear he rules the 
 world." 
 
 And, as he spoke, Wotan, the Wanderer, struck 
 the earth with the haft he held, and a peal of 
 thunder crashed suddenly out upon the silence. 
 
 As Mime cowered, terror-stricken, recognizing 
 his guest, the Wanderer again spoke. 
 
 He said it was only fair that he should have 
 the same right he had given to Mime, and de- 
 clared that he should ask three questions with 
 the privilege of cutting off the Nibelung's head 
 if they were not answered aright. 
 
 " Tell me, O Dwarf," he began, " what was 
 that race which Wotan loved, and yet treated 
 harshly?" 
 
 "The Volsungs," answered Mime, partially re- 
 covering from his terror. " Siegmund and Sieg- 
 linde were descended from the race. Siegfried 
 is their son — the strongest Volsung who ever 
 lived." 
 
 " Well answered !" said the Wanderer. " Now 
 listen and reply ! A sly Nibelung watches Sieg- 
 fried, knowing that he is fated to kill Fafner, the 
 Dragon. What sword must he use to kill him?"
 
 74 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 " Nothung !" cried Mime, eagerly. " Nothung is 
 the name of the sword, Siegmund once drew it 
 from a great tree. It was broken by the spear of 
 Wotan. Now a clever smith" — and he rubbed 
 his hands gleefully — "understands all this, and 
 he hoards well the splinters, knowing that with 
 these alone can Siegfried kill the Dragon." 
 
 The Wanderer burst out into laughter. 
 
 " But who will mend the sword ?" he asked. 
 
 Mime sprang to his feet in despair, filled with 
 terror and rage ; for that was the one question 
 he could not answer — that was his riddle, his 
 everlasting mystery. 
 
 Quietly Wotan rose from the hearth where he 
 had been sitting. 
 
 " I gave you three chances to ask me the ques- 
 tion which I have now asked you. Foolishly, 
 you let them all slip by. Listen while I answer 
 it ! Only he who has never felt fear cati forge 
 Nothung anew." 
 
 He strode to the door of the cave, and there 
 paused, looking back. 
 
 " Guard well your head, O Dwarf ! I leave it 
 to him who knows not fear." 
 
 Smiling quietly, the Wanderer disappeared in 
 the wood's depths, and thunder and lightning 
 followed him as he went.
 
 Siegfried and Mitiie 75 
 
 Mime was left — puzzled, despairing, terror- 
 stricken. His vivid imagination began to con- 
 jure up before him visions of Fafner, the Drag- 
 on, and he had fallen behind the anvil, so great 
 was his fear, when Siegfried came hastily in, ask- 
 ing once more for the sword. 
 
 Mime, creeping out from behind the anvil, 
 could not at once collect his scattered wits, and 
 merely muttered : 
 
 " Only he who has never felt fear can forge 
 Nothung anew. My wits are too wise for that 
 job." 
 
 Finally, as Siegfried demanded why he had 
 not worked at the sword, he said, slowly : 
 
 " I was fearing for your sake." 
 
 ^' Fearing r' said Siegfried. "What do you 
 mean by fearing?" 
 
 Mime described the tremblings, shudderings, 
 and quakings aroused by fear, and Siegfried re- 
 marked, as he finished : 
 
 " All that must seem very queer. I rather 
 think I should like to feel all that — but how 
 shall I learn ?" 
 
 Mime, delighted, told him of Fafner, and said 
 that the Dragon would teach him, or any one 
 else, the art of fearing, and ended by promising 
 to lead him to Hate Hole the next day.
 
 'j6 The Story of the RJdnegold 
 
 " Does the world lie that way?" asked the boy. 
 
 *'To Hate Hole it is close at hand," respond- 
 ed the wicked little Nibelung, beginning to feel 
 rapture glow in his heart. 
 
 But, when Siegfried again demanded the sword, 
 the smith fell once more into despair, wailing that 
 he could not shape it, that only one who knew not 
 fear could forge it anew. 
 
 Straight to the hearth sprang the strong young 
 Volsung with the splinters of Nothung. 
 
 " My father's blade will I forge !" he cried ; and 
 he began to move about merrily, brightening the 
 fire and hunting for the file with which to work 
 on the broken blade. 
 
 Mime watched him with wondering eyes. So 
 swiftly and well did he work that even the clever 
 smith could not understand. And, as he dragged 
 at the rope of the bellows and blew up the fire in 
 the forge, this is the song that Siegfried sang : 
 
 'Nothung, Nothung, notable sword! 
 Who did thy bright steel shiver? 
 To shreds I have shattered the noble blade, 
 In the pot I shall melt each sliver. 
 
 " Oho, oho, aha, aha, oho ! 
 Bellows blow, 
 Brighten the glow !
 
 THE DEATH OF THE DUAGON
 
 ij 2 •^ f=S^^=;^ Sz:t;=«^ 
 
 ■^mmm 
 
 t^ 
 
 H hu/' l , I ' >_,' ! 
 
 >-t- 
 
 
 Motif of the Niebelungs' Hate 
 
 Siegfried's Horn-call 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HATE HOLE 
 
 To Hate Hole, in the dark time before dawn, 
 came the Wanderer, and found Albcrich waiting 
 and watching near the entrance. The Dwarf was 
 fearfully enraged at the sight of the old god, 
 whom he hated with all the strength of his wick- 
 ed Nibelung soul. He burst into a torrent of 
 abuse and anger as Wotan drew near, speaking 
 of the broken promise of the giants and the de- 
 ceit by which the Gold had been obtained fron^ 
 the Nibelungs, and again threatening the down 
 fall of the gods when the Ring should come 
 back to his hands. The Wanderer answered
 
 8o The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 quietly that a hero was even then drawing near 
 through the woods — a hero fated to kill Fafner 
 and obtain the Gold ; and, with hidden sarcasm, 
 he bade the Dwarf attempt to use the youth for 
 his own ends. 
 
 The King God believed in the workings of 
 Fate. The Norns wove continually, and all that 
 they wove came to pass. No one could change 
 the histories wound into their golden cord, un- 
 til the Dusk of the Gods had come, when they 
 also would, in the Last Twilight, be gone for- 
 ever. So, feeling as he did, it mattered very 
 little whom he aided, whom he harmed. He 
 even went so far as to arouse Fafner for Albe- 
 rich, and ask him to give the Dwarf the Ring. 
 The old Dragon snarled and yawned and went 
 to sleep again. The Wanderer turned to the 
 Nibelung, with a great laugh. 
 
 "Listen!" he said. "Remember, O Albe- 
 rich, what I say. All things work in nature's 
 course. You can alter nothing." 
 
 And, so saying, he vanished in the dark woods, 
 and a faint, pale flicker of lightning shot through 
 the forest as he went. Alberich crept hastily 
 into a crevice in the rocks on one side, and the 
 dawn broke just as two figures came into the 
 little green glade by Hate Hole.
 
 Hate Hole 8 1 
 
 The figures were those of Siegfried and Mime; 
 )r the Nibelung, true to his word, had led 
 lie boy to the place where he was to learn to 
 iar. 
 
 " If you do not hastily discover fear here, my 
 
 ear boy, you never will anywhere," said the 
 
 )warf, with a chuckle. And he described at 
 
 jjreat length the means which Fafner would use 
 
 teach the art, saying that the Dragon's breath 
 
 ^as fire, and his twisting tail strong enough to 
 
 crush any hero. But Siegfried merely laughed, 
 
 and said that he would find the great worm's 
 
 heart and strike Nothung into that ; and then he 
 
 ade Mime be gone. The Nibelung crept away 
 
 ut of sight among the trees, and as he went he 
 
 muttered, in an exasperated undertone : 
 
 " Fafner and Siegfried ! Siegfried and Faf- 
 ner! Oh, that each might kill the other!" 
 
 The boy, left alone, sat under a linden-tree, 
 looking up through the branches. At first Mime's 
 figure pervaded his brain, and he could not help 
 emembering the horrible little creature. But, 
 after a while, thoughts of his mother crept in — 
 ery vague and formless thoughts — for this for- 
 est youth had never in his life seen a woman. 
 Leaning back, he gave himself up to the en- 
 chantment of the summer-day, dreaming boyish 
 6
 
 82 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 dreams, and listening to the forest voices all 
 around him. 
 
 Have you ever sat in a great, green wood and 
 watched the soft flickering shadows from the 
 little leaves overhead dance back and forth 
 on the moss? Have you heard the great surge 
 of music made of a thousand tiny sounds, the 
 hum of little, unseen insects, the ripple of far- 
 away brooks, the faint sigh of the wind in the 
 tall reeds, the rustling of the trees, the melodies 
 that seemed made by the touch of some master- 
 hand on a great harp? That was what Sieg- 
 fried saw and heard that summer day when he 
 lay under the linden -tree and dreamed day- 
 dreams. 
 
 After a while a little bird began to sing in the 
 tree above him, and after listening for a moment, 
 and wondering whether it brought him a mes- 
 sage from his mother, he resolved to try to imi- 
 tate it, remembering that Mime had once said 
 that some people were able to talk with the 
 birds. So he fashioned a flute out of a reed 
 and tried to play upon it the melody that the 
 bird sang. Finally, however, he gave it up in 
 despair, and instead, as he began to feel lonely, 
 he blew a loud blast on his horn — to bring him 
 a friend, he said to himself.
 
 Hate Hole 83 
 
 And what sort of a friend do you think it 
 brought him ? 
 
 Well, it waked Fafner, the monster worm ; 
 and he dragged his huge scaly body to the door 
 of the cave and peered out, and you may fancy 
 like what sort of a friend he looked. 
 
 Siegfried burst out into laughter when he saw 
 him. 
 
 "At last!" he cried, merrily. "My call h^s 
 brought me something truly lovely !" 
 
 " What is that?" growled Fafner, glaring at him 
 as though he were a small insect of some sort. 
 
 "Hey! You can talk, can you?" cried Sieg- 
 fried. " Being so wise, you should be able to 
 teach me how to fear. I have come for that." 
 
 Fafner laughed, and showed his teeth, bidding 
 the boy come and be eaten. 
 
 "I come, growler!" said the young Volsung ; 
 and, drawing his sword, he sprang boldly at the 
 great, hideous creature at the cave's opening. 
 Fafner reared to receive him, and the combat 
 began. It was fierce, but not very long, for the 
 boy was strong and Nothung was sharp, and 
 soon Alberich's spell had again worked its mis- 
 ery ; and, indeed, it could be said of the dying 
 Dragon that his death was sad — his life had been 
 a failure.
 
 84 Tfie Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 Before he died he told Siegfried to beware of 
 Mime, and then spoke slowly and sadly of the 
 race of giants that had come to an end. 
 
 " Siegfried," he began once more — but he 
 never finished, poor old Dragon ; for, just at the 
 word, he rolled over and died. And that was 
 the end of the race of giants. 
 
 Stooping down, the young warrior drew his 
 sword from out the Dragon's heart. In so do- 
 ing, a drop of blood fell on his hand. It burn- 
 ed like the cruellest fire. He raised it quickly 
 to his mouth to relieve the smarting; and, as 
 the blood touched his lips, a strange thing hap- 
 pened — he could understand the language of 
 birds. Yes, as the same little singer that he 
 had heard before began to twitter, he could 
 understand what it was saying to him. 
 
 "Hey! Siegfried will have now the Nibe- 
 lung's hoard ! He will find the hoard in the 
 hole. The Tarnhelm would aid him through 
 wonderful deeds ; but the Ring would give him 
 might over the world." 
 
 With a laugh and a word of thanks to the lit- 
 tle singer, the boy stepped into the cave to look 
 for the treasure. At the same minute Mime 
 crept near from behind the clump of bushes. 
 Alberich sprang out from his rocky crevice, and
 
 Hate Hole 85 
 
 the two little Nibelungs met, snarling, capering, 
 and making faces with rage. 
 
 Each claimed the Ring, and called the oth- 
 er names, and each proved himself a marvel in 
 wickedness and greed, and they were nearing a 
 point when blows were not far off when the 
 hero himself stepped out from the cave with the 
 Tarnhelm thrust into his belt, and the Rhinegold 
 Ring upon his finger. The dwarfs hastened out 
 of sight. 
 
 The heaped- up hoard of the Nibelungs, Sieg- 
 fried had left, for he knew little of its use, and 
 he cared nothing for wealth. Indeed, both Helm 
 and Ring he had taken only because the bird had 
 so advised him. He could not fancy what good 
 either of them would do him. 
 
 " Hey ! Siegfried has now the Helm and the 
 Ring !" sang the wood-bird in the tree. " Trust 
 not in Mime ! The Dragon's blood will tell Sieg- 
 fried what the treacherous Dwarf really means." 
 
 At this point, Mime himself appeared, smiling 
 and bowing, and holding in his hands a horn 
 of wine for Siegfried. He said that it would 
 refresh the boy after his labors, but we know 
 that it was poisoned. Thanks to the Dragon's 
 blood, Siegfried knew it too, and read all the 
 cruel thoughts that were passing through Mime's
 
 86 The Story of the Rhincgold 
 
 brain, and, in a burst of anger, he finally raised 
 his sword and killed the treacherous Dwarf with 
 one blow. 
 
 So that was the end of the Nibelung Mime, 
 the cleverest smith, they say, that ever lived in 
 the world — even though he could not fashion 
 Nothung, the sword. From a black crevice in 
 the rocks came Alberich's laugh, loud and mock- 
 ing — the echo of his own wicked thoughts. 
 
 Siegfried turned away wearily, and, seating him- 
 self under the linden, listened for the bird's song 
 again. As it did not come at once, he looked up 
 into the branches and spoke: 
 
 " You seem very happy, flying among your 
 brothers and sisters, birdie. But I am all alone. 
 I have no brothers nor sisters, and my father and 
 mother are both dead. Tell me where I may find 
 a loving friend. I have called one so often, but 
 none ever comes." He sighed. " Sing now, sing," 
 he begged ; and again the bird's twitter sounded 
 from among the leaves above him. 
 
 " Hey ! Siegfried has slain now the wicked 
 Dwarf. I know where he'll find a glorious bride. 
 On a rock she sleeps amid fire. If he passed 
 through the blaze and awakened her, Briinn- 
 hilde would then be his." 
 
 Wild with excitement and joy, Siegfried sprang
 
 Hate Hole 87 
 
 to his feet and asked if he would really be able 
 to do this. 
 
 " Briinnhilde is won only by him who knows 
 not fear," said the wood-bird, and flew off before 
 him, guiding him through the woods. 
 
 In a transport of joy Siegfried followed, and, 
 shouting with delight, he began his journey to 
 the far-away rock in its circle of flame, where 
 the Walkiire, in her long penance of sleep, wait- 
 ed for the hero brave enough to pass through 
 the fire and awaken her. 
 
 Song of the Wood-Bird 
 
 e 
 
 
 -g— j--g_^Zl^_-t_ 
 
 -^^—4 
 
 -»' • 
 
 g y ^^^^ - ■ ' .-. ^ | . ^ 
 
 " Hey ! Siegfried has slain now the wicked dwarf! 
 
 - !D \ L^ I \ 9. I . ^ 1 U— 
 
 -•- 
 
 V- 
 
 -^N 
 
 ■^— i^-J .^ 
 
 I know where he'll find a glo ri-ous bride."
 
 I#^ J j ^f=F J \ I J , J-i 
 
 Motif of the Wanderer 
 
 :-»-,^ 
 
 iP 
 
 ^ 
 
 r 
 
 ^ 
 
 -i2- 
 
 
 J 
 
 -i2_ 
 
 S 
 
 -^ 
 
 _i2- 
 
 j2- 
 
 Erda Motif 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN PASS 
 
 A WILD storm was raging among the moun- 
 tains. Great winds swept down from the high 
 peaks and up from the valleys and crashed roar- 
 ing through the woods. The thunder rumbled, 
 and flashes of blue lightning shot across the dark 
 sky. The heart of the tempest seemed to be at 
 a rocky pass just below the path that led up to 
 the Walkiires' rock. 
 
 Here, before a huge black cleft in the side of 
 the mountain, stood the Wanderer, the wild storm
 
 The Mountain Pass 89 
 
 all about him. With outstretched spear he was 
 singing a strange chant, an awakening song, down 
 into the black chasm before him ; singing it to 
 the wise woman of the world, Erda, the Earth 
 Witch. 
 
 He called her by name, and bade her rise from 
 her sleep and speak with him ; and, as he chant- 
 ed, a faint blue light glowed in the chasm, and 
 Erda rose slowly from the black depths. Frost 
 seemed to cling to her garments, and light 
 gleamed all about her. Her face wore the same 
 look of mystery as when she came so many years 
 before to warn Wotan against the Ring. 
 
 In slow, dreamy tones she asked what the 
 Wanderer wished, and why he had aroused her 
 from her slumber of wisdom. He answered that 
 he had come to ask her to prophesy once more; 
 to tell him the wonders that she had dreamed. 
 
 " I sleep and dream !" answered the Earth God- 
 dess. " I dream and search for wisdom. But, 
 while I sleep, the Norns are awake. They weave 
 their rope and spin. Why do you not seek them 
 and ask them your questions?" 
 
 The Wanderer answered that they could only 
 weave the histories of the world, but that she, in 
 her wisdom, could, perhaps, tell him how to avert 
 coming ill. But Erda shook her head dreamily.
 
 90 TJie Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 as though in a trance, and answered that she 
 could tell him nothing; that the ways of the 
 world bewildered her, and that she longed to 
 return into her dark chasm and dream once 
 more. 
 
 But Wotan restrained her. He told her of 
 the Walkiire's disobedience and his own wrath. 
 He spoke of the sorrow and grief that weighed 
 heavily on his mind, of his forebodings, and that 
 the Dusk of the Gods seemed nearer and nearer. 
 And, after asking again for counsel, in vain, he 
 said that he had grown to feel very little dread 
 of the Dusk of the Gods. It was destiny, and he 
 almost longed for it. And he spoke tenderly of 
 the Volsung, who was even then drawing near 
 to pass through the flame and free the Walkiire 
 from her chains of sleep. 
 
 When she was awakened, Wotan said — gifted 
 with the power of prophecy for a moment — she 
 would, by some deed, release the world from the 
 sadness that it had labored under for so lone, 
 and she would expiate the old sin of the stealing 
 of the Gold that was the beginning of the end of 
 the Golden Age. 
 
 " Then sleep once more !" said the Wanderer. 
 " Dream and foresee the end ! Away, Erda — all- 
 fearing, all-sorrowing ; away to eternal sleep !"
 
 TJie Mountain Pass 91 
 
 Slowly the Goddess of the Earth slipped down 
 into the darkness, and the blue light faded 
 away. 
 
 The storm had ceased. Only faint, distant 
 rumbles of thunder sounded in the high hills ; 
 faint, shivering winds crept through the moaning 
 forest-trees, and a little light stole over the moun- 
 tain pass from the rising moon. 
 
 From the depths of the forest came Siegfried, 
 staring about him and looking in vain for his 
 small feathered guide. 
 
 It had vanished, and he concluded, after a 
 moment, that he had better go on alone, find 
 his way to the fire-circle without a guide, and 
 awaken the sleeping maiden. He started up the 
 pass ; but, suddenly, a voice said slowly close 
 beside him : 
 
 "Where are you going, boy?" 
 
 He turned and saw the Wanderer. 
 
 " Perhaps he can tell me the way," thought 
 Siegfried ; and, aloud, he answered : " I am seek- 
 ing for a rock surrounded by fire. A woman 
 sleeps there whom I will wake." 
 
 The Wanderer asked him who suggested such 
 an idea to him, and questioned him closely as to 
 his life and deeds. 
 
 Siegfried answered simply and frankly, until,
 
 92 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 when he spoke of his good sword, the Wanderer 
 burst into a loud peal of laughter. 
 
 "Why do you laugh at me?" asked the boy. 
 " Listen, old questioner ! Tell me the way, or, 
 if you cannot do that, say nothing at all," for 
 he was in a thoroughly bad humor, and in the 
 woods he had never been taught to accord old 
 age much honor. So he strode up to the Wan- 
 derer and demanded that he should tell him the 
 way, threatening to serve him like Mime if he 
 insisted on barring the pass. For Wotan was 
 standing directly before the rocky way, and, as 
 Siegfried was in great haste, it exasperated him. 
 
 " You will not tell me, then ?" he said, finally. 
 " Then get out of my way ! I will find the rock 
 for myself. My little bird -friend showed me in 
 which direction the slumbering woman lies." 
 
 " The bird !" said Wotan, wrathfully. " It fled 
 to save its life. The King -Ravens barred its 
 way." 
 
 For the god had sent his two great birds to 
 turn back the little guide, just as he himself in- 
 tended to attempt to turn back Siegfried. 
 
 He had said in his spell, when he left Briinn- 
 hilde sleeping on the rock : " Only one who fears 
 not my spear can pass through the fire bar." 
 Now, this must be the test. Would this strong,
 
 The MoiDitain I\iss 93 
 
 beautiful boy recoil before the haft made of the 
 World-Ash, or would the Dusk of the Gods come 
 through human courage, overthrowing the might 
 of the gods? 
 
 The Wanderer stretched out his great spear, 
 the spear which had strange figures upon it rep- 
 resenting Law and Knowledge ; the spear which 
 was typical of the wisdom and the power of the 
 gods ; the spear upon which Nothung, the sword, 
 had once been shattered. 
 
 "The weapon you swing," said the Wanderer, 
 " was once shivered upon this haft. It will again 
 snap on the Eternal Spear." 
 
 Siegfried drew his sword. 
 
 " Then you are my father's enemy !" he cried. 
 " Then you broke his defence ! Stretch out your 
 spear ! My sword shall break it in pieces !" 
 
 And a great peal of thunder crashed among 
 the hills as Nothung broke the Eternal Spear 
 with which Wotan had ruled the world. 
 
 The old god stooped and gathered up the 
 broken pieces of his once mighty haft, and, 
 with slow steps, passed out of sight in the for- 
 est depths. The Dusk of the Gods seemed, in- 
 deed, at hand. 
 
 As Siegfried stood gazing after his retreating 
 figure, he suddenly became conscious of a great
 
 94 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 glare that seemed to grow brighter and brighter 
 every moment. Looking up the pass before 
 him, he beheld great billows of flame rolling 
 about a high peak — billows that seemed to 
 surge down towards him as though defying him 
 to conquer them. 
 
 " Ha ! Wonderful glow !" shouted Siegfried. 
 "In fire will I bathe! In fire will I find my 
 bride !" 
 
 And blowing a long, clear call on his silver 
 horn, he sprang into the sea of flame, and pass- 
 ed up the steep, fiery way that led to the Wal- 
 kiires' rock.
 
 i 
 
 ^-ih 
 
 P\ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 r^i-'^^iSlS 
 
 Love Motif 
 
 Motif of Siegfried the Protector 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE WALKURES' ROCK 
 
 The fire rolled and surged about him, the 
 great red flames twisted around him, and in 
 many colors the vistas opened here and there 
 like rainbow avenues. For the colors in fire are 
 more beautiful than those in an opal. 
 
 As he passed up the steep way, and trampled 
 the flames and beat them back, laughing at their 
 scorching heat, they began to burn lower and 
 sank into a narrow, bright circle of fire behind 
 him ; unobtrusive and not at all fierce, just, in
 
 96 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 fact, what they had been until a hero drew near 
 to pass through them. Then they had done their 
 best to keep him from their fair, sleeping cap- 
 tive ; but they were conquered, the wild, bright 
 flames; and they died down to almost nothing 
 as the Volsung, still blowing a merry call on his 
 horn, sprang up the rocks to the summit of the 
 mountain. 
 
 It was quiet and calm there, full of deep peace 
 and silence. It seemed as if even the trees and 
 flowers were asleep. No sound broke the still- 
 ness, no leaf moved or insect darted. It was as 
 though Nature were laying her finger on her lip 
 and saying, "Hush — hush! This place is en- 
 chanted." 
 
 It was broad day, and the blue sky, reaching 
 overhead, seemed to smile down on the young 
 hero as he stood gazing wonderingly about him. 
 
 On one side stretched the dark wood, reaching 
 down the mountain-side — the wood into which 
 his mother had run, bearing the splinters of 
 Nothung, so many years before. As he looked 
 into the dark depths he was amazed to see a war- 
 horse asleep under the trees. It was Grani, who 
 had fallen under the same spell as his mistress. 
 As Siegfried took a step forward, he suddenly 
 stopped short in overpowering surprise. For be-
 
 TJie Walkiires Rock 97 
 
 fore him, upon a rock, lay a figure clad in bright- 
 est steel, with shield and spear and helmet gleam- 
 ing in the sun. 
 
 "Is it a warrior?" thought the young Vol- 
 sung, drawing near — for Mime had described to 
 him the bright armor the great heroes wore in 
 battle. "Perhaps," thought Siegfried, as he bent 
 over the sleeper, " he would rest better if his hel- 
 met were loosened." And he unfastened it care- 
 fully and took it off. Masses of golden curling 
 hair gleamed like sunny clouds about the fair 
 face of the Walkiire. 
 
 " Ah, how beautiful !" cried Siegfried, softly. 
 " The face is like that of the sun smiling be- 
 tween mists.". 
 
 He bent down still lower. 
 
 "How heavily he breathes! I would better 
 open his armor," said the boy. Drawing his 
 sword, he cut off the mail in which the sleeper 
 was arrayed. When the last ring was loosened 
 and he had lifted off the suit of mail -armor, he 
 started erect, filled with a strange, wonderful 
 feeling that he had never known before. The 
 sleeping Walkiire, no longer dressed in steel like 
 a warrior, but in long, white, womanly robes, 
 was so marvellous and beautiful that this lion- 
 hearted young Volsung felt fear at last in 
 7
 
 98 The Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 the presence of the first woman he had ever 
 seen. 
 
 Timidly he drew near, wondering how he 
 should arouse her. 
 
 " Awaken, beautiful woman !" he cried, tremu- 
 lously. But she did not hear. At last he bent 
 over her and kissed her. 
 
 Briinnhilde opened her eyes. 
 
 Starting up, she lifted both arms towards the 
 sky, and cried, in glad though solemn tones, 
 
 " Hail, O sun ! Hail, O light ! Hail, O glori- 
 ous day ! Long was my sleep — I am awakened ! 
 Where is the hero who awakes me ?" 
 
 The young Volsung, drawing timidly near, an- 
 swered that it was he who had come through the 
 fire and awakened her, and that his name was 
 Siegfried ; and he said, too, that, as she had first 
 aroused fear in his heart, she must bring his cour- 
 age back to him. Passionately, he told her that 
 he loved her; but Briinnhilde could not remem- 
 ber that she was no longer a Walkiire, and at 
 first she did not want to be a woman and a mor- 
 tal's wife — however great that mortal might be. 
 
 But, after a time, with a sudden great rush of 
 passion, she felt in some strange way that she 
 cared no longer for the gods and their glory, and 
 loved only Siegfried, and longed to serve him and
 
 The Walkure s Rock 
 
 99 
 
 be his wife. So she promised to marry him, and 
 she said that the Norns might break their rope 
 of histories,, for the Dusk of the Gods drew near 
 She taught Siegfried many strange things and 
 much wisdom — the wisdom of the gods. And she 
 gave him her weapons, forgot that she had ever 
 been a Walkure, and loved him with all her heart. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 S 
 
 ^ 
 
 -^- 
 
 IS 
 
 i 
 
 r 
 
 i 
 
 Motif of Peace
 
 I
 
 THE ^^ HF T ^_; ^R
 
 -^ 1 - 
 
 f 
 
 
 Motif of the World-Ash-Tree 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 Holding in his hand his broken spear, the 
 king of the gods wended his way to Walhalla. 
 He sent forth stanch messengers to hew the 
 World -Ash into a thousand pieces and pile 
 them high about the gods' palace. Then he as- 
 sembled round him his heroes and the Walkures 
 and the rest of the divinities, and sat in silence 
 awaiting the Dusk of the Gods. 
 
 All the gods, far and wide, knew that the Last 
 Twilight was impending ; and fate relentlessly led 
 all things to the end. To the Walkiires' rock came 
 the Norns in the gray of dawn to spin. From 
 hand to hand passed the golden cord. Each told 
 a history in gloomy, chanting measures. 
 
 The oldest Norn sang of the days when the 
 World-Ash was green and the Fountain of Wis- 
 dom purled softly in the shadow of the wide 
 branches. She sang of Wotan's coming to the
 
 104 ^^^^ Story of the RJiinegold 
 
 spring and drinking ; of the tearing of the limb 
 from the World -Ash; of the withering of the 
 great tree. Her song ceased. She flung the 
 cord to her sister. 
 
 The second Norn wound slowly as she sang. 
 Her tale was of the making of the great spear 
 with which Wotan had ruled the world until one 
 stronger than the gods had shivered the haft 
 and overpowered the Ruler. She sang of how 
 Wotan had now ordered that the World-Ash 
 should be broken and piled about Walhalla. She 
 paused, and the youngest Norn took the rope. 
 
 She sang of the bright palace where Wotan 
 sat among the gods and heroes, with the great 
 fagots from the World-Ash heaped around him. 
 She sang that, when these fagots should be light- 
 ed and Walhalla burned, the Dusk of the Gods 
 would come. 
 
 They sang of many strange events — these 
 Norns — events of the past, of the present, of 
 the future. They sang of the circle of fire lit 
 by Logi about the rock. They sang of the 
 Rhinegold stolen by Alberich ; they sang long 
 and sadly of the gods and their king. 
 
 " The web is tangled," said the first Norn. 
 
 " Alberich's spell tears at the strands," said the 
 second, and flung it to the third.
 
 DRINNHTIDE ON THE WALRUKES ROCK
 
 Prelude 105 
 
 "I cannot reach the rope — it is too short," 
 said the 'youngest, putting out her hand. 
 
 The cord snapped. It had stretched across 
 the past, but it could not touch the future. It 
 was, indeed, too short. 
 
 " It breaks !" wailed the Norns, crouching in 
 dread, as the faint light of day appeared. 
 
 "At an end is our wisdom!" they murmured 
 in chorus, and wound the broken bits of the 
 rope about their gray-shrouded bodies; then fled 
 like mist into the earth, down to their mother, 
 Erda, the all-wise one, she who had first prophe- 
 sied the Dusk of the Gods. 
 
 * -H- ^«- * * * 
 
 When she had taught him all the wisdom 
 that she knew, and given him all she had, Briinn- 
 hilde bade her hero go forth into the world and 
 win fame and honor by great deeds. He must 
 journey to the far lands peopled by brave men 
 and high heroes and prove his courage and his 
 strength. She would wait for him patiently, and 
 he would come back to her when he had made 
 all men know and honor him. 
 
 She gave him Grani, her stanch war-horse, and 
 he placed on her finger as a parting love-gift the 
 beautiful bright Ring that he had won at Hate 
 Hole, and then he bade her farewell, and blithe-
 
 io6 
 
 The Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 ly passed down the mountain - side, blowing a 
 clear, merry blast on his horn. 
 
 Briinnhilde stood on the Walkiires' rock and 
 gazed yearningly after him, and the young hero 
 went forth into far lands to know men and do 
 great deeds, and find at last that strange place 
 called the world. 
 
 t3^ -^ 
 
 Motif of Briinnhilde
 
 u — I — u-5#-*^ 
 
 g)-« ^ — — ^ i ^ »-g-»-4t f ^^ tiS-r-P- 
 
 Motif of the Gibichungs 
 
 
 
 li -37- 
 
 Motif of Hagen 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE HALL OF THE GIBICHUNGS 
 
 On the banks of the river Rhine there lived 
 a great warrior named Gunther, who was one of 
 a valiant race called Gibichungs. He was the 
 head of a great tribe of kinsmen and vassals, and 
 his lands were wide and his halls spacious. His 
 sister, Gutrune, was a maiden very fair and sweet 
 to look upon, as beautiful as her brother was 
 brave. They were both generous and noble, and 
 would have done nothing but good all their lives
 
 io8 The Story of the RJiinegold 
 
 had it not been for the evil influence of their wick- 
 ed half-brother Hagen, the son of Alberich, the 
 Nibelung. When their father, the brave Gibich, 
 had died, their mother, Grimhilde, had wedded 
 the Nibelung, and after a while had died herself, 
 leaving wild, dark Hagen as a brother to Gun- 
 ther and Gutrune. 
 
 He was a sinister and gloomy warrior, with 
 gleaming black eyes and blood that seemed of 
 ice, for never did his cheek flush or his lip red- 
 .i..^den. Pale he was and cold, dark-haired and sad, 
 and his heart was black and cruel. He, too, was 
 working to obtain the Rhinegold. 
 
 One day Gunther, sitting on a high throne be- 
 side his sister, asked Hagen what greater wealth 
 could belong to the Gibichungs ; what deed their 
 chief could do that would aid the good fortune 
 of the race and its vassals. 
 
 Hagen answered that it would be fitting for the 
 head of the Gibichungs to wed, and he craftily 
 told Gunther of the fire-encirled rock where dwelt 
 the fair maiden, Brunnhilde. The fire could only 
 be conquered, he said, by Siegfried, the Volsung, 
 who would make a fitting husband for Gutrune. 
 
 Now, Hagen knew that Siegfried had already 
 won the Walkure ; but he was laying a plot, and 
 the plot was wicked and deep. He told Gun-
 
 TJie Hall of the Gibiclmngs 109 
 
 ther that Siegfried would go through the fire 
 and bring Brunnhilde to the Rhine Chief if he 
 could be given a magic-potion — a potion that 
 would make him love Gutrune. 
 
 While they spoke of these things, a horn was 
 heard, in the distance at first, but coming nearer 
 and nearer. Soon a boat came down the river 
 Rhine — a wide barge — holding a horse and a tall 
 man in bright armor. Siegfried, in his travels 
 through the world, had heard of the Gibichungs, 
 and had come to see the great Rhine Chief, 
 Gunther. As the boat touched the shore, he 
 sprang from it, and hailed the warrior, in loud 
 tones, asking if he would be friend or enemy. 
 In answer, Gunther said that his house, his lands, 
 his people were all at the service of the hero 
 whose fame had reached even the hall of the 
 Gibichungs; and Siegfried offered the strength 
 of his arm and the might of his sword for Gun- 
 ther's defence and aid at all times. 
 
 So they made a vow, promising to remain true 
 to each other, as heroes and brave men should. 
 
 " I have heard that you hold the Nibelungs' 
 hoard," said Hagen, when Gutrune, at a sign 
 from him, had left the hall, and the three war- 
 riors were alone. 
 
 " I left it in the cavern," said Siegfried. " I
 
 no TJie Story of the Rhine gold 
 
 cared nothing for the Gold. This is all I took " 
 — and he showed the Tarnhelm. " What is its 
 use — do you know?" 
 
 " It is the most artful of all the Nibelung's 
 work," said Hagen. " It will change you to 
 whatever shape you will, and carry you to the 
 farthest lands in a moment, if it is your wish. 
 Did you take any more of the hoard ?" 
 
 Siegfried answered that he had carried away 
 a Ring, but that it was now worn by a beauti- 
 ful woman. 
 
 Even as he spoke, Gutrune, the fair lady of the 
 Gibichungs, came out from her room at one side 
 of the hall, bearing a drinking-horn, which she 
 offered to Siegfried. It was customary in those 
 days that a maiden should offer wine to a guest 
 coming to the house of her race. So Siegfried, 
 without a thought, lifted the horn and drank the 
 mixture, saying softly to himself: " Briinnhilde, 
 I drink to you !" 
 
 But, alas! it was not wine that was in the 
 drinking-horn, but the love-potion — the terrible 
 magic potion — which, as it touched the hero's 
 lips, laid a cloud upon his memory and a fire 
 within his heart, so that he straightway forgot 
 Brunnhilde and loved only Gutrune, the lady of 
 the Gibichungs.
 
 GUTRUNE AND SIEGFRIED
 
 The Hall of the Gibichungs 1 1 1 
 
 As he gazed passionately upon her, she turned 
 away, filled, perhaps, with momentary regret for 
 what she had done, and left the hall in silence. 
 
 When she had gone, Siegfried stood looking 
 after her for a moment, and then, arousing him- 
 self from his reverie, turned to Gunther, asking 
 if he were married. 
 
 The Rhine Chief replied that he had never 
 wed, because only one bride would satisfy him, 
 and she was out of reach of even his valor ; for 
 she was surrounded by fire, and only he who 
 could pass through the blaze could win her. 
 
 Merrily, Siegfried replied that he would go 
 through the flame and bring the bride to Gun- 
 ther if he might have in payment Gutrune for 
 his wife. 
 
 And the two heroes went through a ceremony, 
 very binding in those days, which was called the 
 Oath of Brotherhood. It meant that they must 
 remain as faithful to each other as though they 
 were really brothers, and that should one prove 
 false to his vow the other would have the right 
 to kill him. 
 
 Then the two entered the boat and went 
 away down the Rhine, Siegfried to take Gun- 
 ther's shape, with the aid of the Tarnhelm, and 
 go through the fire to win the maiden ; Gunther
 
 112 
 
 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 to wait on the banks of the Rhine until Sieg- 
 fried brought him the bride, and then took his 
 own shape once more. 
 
 Hagen, left alone in the hall, mused deeply as 
 night drew near. 
 
 " Siegfried, unknowing, brings his own bride 
 to the Rhine. He brings vie the Ring!'' He 
 paused, and then continued, in tones of bitter 
 scorn : " Little as I deem you all, you brave 
 partners and happy companions — small as you 
 are, and as I hold your natures — you still may 
 serve the need of the Nibelung's son !" 
 
 Motif of the Love-Potion
 
 Motif of the Magic-fire Circle 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE WALKURES' ROCK ONCE MORE 
 
 As afternoon darkened into evening Briinn- 
 hilde sat on her high rock looking at the Ring 
 on her finger with loving eyes, and thinking ten- 
 derly of the hero who had placed it there, and 
 who was perhaps, even then, leaving the paths 
 of men to come to her side once more. 
 
 Suddenly a flash of lightning appeared across 
 the sky and a clap of thunder sounded far away. 
 Strange sounds broke the stillness, sounds well 
 remembered by her: the hoofs of wind-horses 
 speeding through the clouds, the whistling of 
 rushing blasts, the ring of steel armor. Starting 
 up in wild excitement, she saw a black thunder- 
 cloud rushing towards the rock.
 
 114 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 " Briinnhilde ! Sister! Are you asleep or 
 awake?" called the clear voice of one of the 
 warrior goddesses, as a war-horse sprang to earth 
 from the midst of the clouds. 
 
 With a cry of joy Briinnhilde ran to meet the 
 Walkiire, saying : 
 
 " Waltraute, truest sister, welcome !" and ask- 
 ing tenderly about the rest of the maidens and 
 her father Wotan. 
 
 But Waltraute was sad and anxious, and seem- 
 ed in fearful haste. She interrupted Briinnhilde's 
 passionate description of her hero and her happi- 
 ness in his love by sad words of the gloom that 
 reigned in Walhalla, She told the story of the 
 hewing of the World-Ash, the fagots piled high 
 about the great palace ; of the gods and heroes 
 assembled in awe. She spoke of Wotan sitting 
 in silence holding his broken spear in his hand. 
 
 She said that once, and once only, had he 
 spoken, and that he had then said : " When the 
 Rhine daughters gain from Briinnhilde the Ring 
 the world will be released from the power of the 
 spell." 
 
 Waltraute begged Briinnhilde to give her the 
 Ring, so that she, Waltraute, might carry it to 
 the Rhine Maidens. 
 
 " If you wish, you may ward off the shadow
 
 The Walkiires Rock O^ice More 115 
 
 of the gods," said the Walkure, kneeling at her 
 sister's feet. But Brunnhilde looked at her as 
 though in a trance. 
 
 "Like a sorrowful dream it seems — this that 
 you tell me. I do not understand it. I am no 
 longer one of the gods. You, pale sister— what 
 have you to do with me?" 
 
 Passionately, Waltraute asked for the Ring 
 which she wore, but Brunnhilde replied that it 
 was Siegfried's love -gift, and that she would 
 never give it up. Again Waltraute besought 
 her, for the sake of the gods, the bright mighty 
 gods, wl.o were going to destruction, to give up 
 the magic circlet. 
 
 Brunnhilde answered quietly that she prized 
 love mere than the welfare of all the gods, and 
 that the Ring was dearer to her than the palace 
 of Walhalla ; and she bade Waltraute be gone, 
 refusing once for all to give up Siegfried's 
 
 gift. 
 
 " Woe ! woe !" wailed the Walkure, speedmg 
 wildly away. "Woe for you, sister! Woe for 
 the gods in Walhalla ! Woe !" 
 
 She was gone, amid thunder and rushing 
 
 winds. 
 
 Sitting again on the rock alone, Brunnhilde 
 looked down to where the guarding fire -circle
 
 ii6 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 burned brighter and brighter. A horn - call 
 sounded in the distance. 
 
 " Siegfried !" cried Briinnhilde, rushing for- 
 ward. 
 
 But who was that who sprang from out the 
 fire and stood before her? Not Siegfried, sure- 
 ly, but some stranger — a stranger with face 
 partly masked by a curious helmet of some 
 sort. 
 
 No wonder that she did not recognize her 
 hero in the man before her, who, by the aid of 
 the Tarnhelm, bore the semblance of Gunther, 
 the Gibichung. He told her that he had come 
 to take her away with him and marry her ; 
 and when she ordered him to yield before the 
 strength of the mighty Ring on her finger, he 
 caught her hand and tore the circlet from it, 
 placing it on his own. 
 
 "Now yield to me! You must be my wife," 
 he commanded ; and, weak and powerless, Briinn- 
 hilde was conquered and led away by the war- 
 rior, who was none other than Siegfried — had 
 she but known it ! — Siegfried, her hero, who did 
 not remember her at all, and only looked upon 
 her as the bride of his brother-hero Gunther, the 
 bride that must be delivered safely into the real 
 Gibichung's hand.
 
 BRUNMUI.DE AND SIEGFRIED
 
 The Walkiires Rock Otice More 
 
 117 
 
 For Siegfried cared nothing for her himself, 
 and thought only of the fair maiden down in the 
 great hall built upon the shore of the Rhine — 
 Gutrune, the lady of the Gibichungs. 
 
 And that was how the Nibelung's spell again 
 brought sorrow and misery to the wearer of the 
 Rhinegold's Ring. 
 
 Tarnhelm Motif
 
 3? 
 
 $t 
 
 
 J^L 
 
 Gutrune Motif 
 
 ^ A A 
 
 ^ 
 
 &^-^< 
 
 1 
 
 ^i 
 
 P'=?— p^^jw^ 
 
 iat 
 
 Motif of Revenge 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE RHINE CHIEF'S BRIDE 
 
 It was night on the Rhine. Hagen sat asleep 
 before the hall of the Gibichungs, leaning against 
 a pillar. Before him crouched his Nibelung fa- 
 ther, Alberich, who had come to speak with him 
 through his dreams. 
 
 They spoke of the Rhinegold in mysterious 
 undertones, Hagen in the voice of one who 
 talks in sleep. They spoke of the Dusk of the 
 Gods which drew near so quickly, and of the 
 might which would be theirs when the Ring 
 fell into their hands. And until dawn came 
 they concocted plots deep and cruel. 
 
 Then the Nibelung's small, dark figure disap-
 
 The Rhine Chief's Bride 119 
 
 peared in a pale mist, and all that was left of 
 him was the echo of his voice, as he called, 
 faintly, while vanishing : 
 
 " Be true, Hagen, my son ; be true ! Be true ! 
 True !" The voice died away into silence. 
 
 As the dawn broke and the rising sun was 
 mirrored brightly in the Rhine, Hagen awoke 
 with a start. At the same moment Siegfried 
 appeared, saying that he had hastened to the 
 hall of the Gibichungs with the aid of the Tarn- 
 helm, leaving Gunther and his bride to follow 
 in a barge up the Rhine. 
 
 As Gutrune came out to meet him, he hailed 
 her exultantly, saying that he had won her as 
 wife when he brought the wild mountain- maid 
 to her brother. He told her and Hagen the tale 
 of how he had gone through the fire and found 
 the woman within the enchanted circle, and had 
 conquered her, and had brought her to Gunther, 
 who had waited at the foot of the mountain. 
 The only thing that he did not tell them was 
 that he had torn the Ring from the woman's fin- 
 ger, and so vanquished her. Strange to say, he 
 had forgotten that as completely as he had for- 
 gotten his old love for Briinnhilde and his first 
 journey through the fire. Now, when he looked 
 at the bright circlet on his finger, he remembered
 
 I20 The Story of the RJiinegold 
 
 that it was one which he had obtained at Hate 
 Hole, but had forgotten that it had ever left his 
 hand. So that was the beginning of more sorrow. 
 
 Siegfried and Gutrune went into the hall to- 
 gether, and Hagen called the vassals about him 
 from far and wide to welcome the bride to her 
 new home on the Rhine. When the barge came 
 slowly up the river, strong warriors plunged into 
 the water to meet it, and dragged the boat close 
 to the shore. From the hall came Gutrune, full of 
 welcome and kindness. For you know she had 
 no idea it was Briinnhilde whom she had caused 
 the hero to forget, and she was really glad to 
 greet her brother's bride. At her side walked 
 Siegfried, and they were followed by innumer- 
 able women who had come trooping out to be- 
 hold the new lady of the Gibichungs. 
 
 But, as Gunther led his pale, sad bride from 
 the boat, she suddenly stood still, trembling and 
 shuddering, and staring with wild, bewildered 
 eyes at Siegfried. Her voice shook and her 
 face was as white as death as she asked how he 
 came there with Gutrune ; and when he showed 
 that he had totally forgotten her and looked 
 upon her only as Gunther's bride, she staggered 
 and sank into the young hero's arms, whisper- 
 ing, faintly and sorrowfully :
 
 The Rhine Chief's Bride 121 
 
 *' Sieefried knows me not !" 
 
 Calling to Gunther to come near, the Volsung 
 pointed to him and bade poor Briinnhilde arouse 
 herself, for the great chief's sake. But, as Sieg- 
 fried stretched out his hand, she saw the Ring, 
 and, starting wildly up, asked furiously how he 
 came by it — saying that Gunther had torn it 
 from her on the Walkiires' rock, and demand- 
 ing of Gunther why he had given it to Siegfried. 
 
 Now, of course, the Rhine Chief had never 
 even seen the Ring, and thought, not unnatu- 
 rally, that Siegfried had taken it from Brunnhilde 
 and then kept it for himself from a feeling of 
 greed and a desire to possess it. The young 
 hero, when questioned, merely answered that it 
 was one he had found at Hate Hole, and that 
 he had won it from no woman, but a monster 
 worm which he had killed. And he thought 
 that he was telling the whole truth, for it was 
 all that he could remember. 
 
 But Brunnhilde, who knew nothing of the 
 magic-potion, saw in his words the deepest and 
 most terrible deceit, and she burst into such rage 
 and despair that Siegfried declared that he would 
 try to satisfy her by swearing the Spear-Oath. 
 
 So Hagen held out his spear, and Siegfried 
 placed his hand upon the point and declared by
 
 122 TJie Story of the RJ line gold 
 
 the haft of war that he had never harmed the 
 woman, or been for a moment false to Gunther, 
 and bade that very spear bring him death if he 
 had. 
 
 Breaking into the circle which the warriors 
 made around Siegfried, Brunnhilde declared him 
 a traitor and deceiver, and called down the ven- 
 geance of the gods upon his head. 
 
 For her heart was broken, poor Brunnhilde ! 
 and she hardly knew what she said or did ; so 
 that when Siegfried and the others ceased try- 
 ing to pacify her and left her alone with Gun- 
 ther and Hagen, and when the latter crept up 
 to her and said that he would avenge her wrongs 
 and kill the hero who had made her love him 
 and had then deserted her, she told him how to 
 do it. She said that she had placed divine spells 
 of protection upon every part of his body ex- 
 cept his back. 
 
 " For I knew," said Brunnhilde, with momen- 
 tary tenderness, " that he was too brave to ever, 
 in flight, turn that to an enemy." 
 
 "At his back shall my spear-point strike!" said 
 Hagen, exultantly. " In his back shall he be 
 wounded unto death !" 
 
 Raising her arms towards the sky, Brunnhilde 
 broke into wild, passionate words of revenge.
 
 GUNTHEK AND UKUNN 11 1 l.Uli
 
 Tlie Rhine Chief's Bride 123 
 
 For she had almost lost her reason through the 
 shock of sorrow at finding Siegfried false to her, 
 and she declared that that was the sacrifice that 
 was needed to lift the sorrow off so many hearts; 
 that was the one great deed that must bring 
 relief after so much misery. Earth and heaven 
 cried aloud for one thing, she said — Siegfried's 
 death. 
 
 As she stood, almost transfigured by her own 
 words, sounds of joy and merriment drew near, 
 and the wedding procession of Siegfried and 
 Gutrune passed by. Gunther caught Briinn- 
 hilde's hand and drew her into the crowd of 
 men and women, and she passed on with the 
 other bridal couple to be married. 
 
 Loudly and merrily rang the laughter, and the 
 sounds of festivity rose high. But Hagen, like a 
 dark, evil spirit, laughed, because he seemed at 
 last so near to his desires.
 
 — iS*- 
 
 ifrj_ 
 
 _g-S?-J__ 
 
 tJ —- 
 
 tr 
 
 fl -^^. 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 Motif of the Rhine-Maidens' Prophecy 
 
 ±«t 
 
 
 Fate Motif 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON THE BANKS OF THE RHINE 
 
 Where the steep rocks led down to the river 
 Rhine, and the low shrubs grew in green luxu- 
 riance, where the wildest part of the wild forest 
 was mirrored in the water, came the three water- 
 fairies, Woglinde, Flosshilde, and Wellgunde, to 
 sing in the quiet, golden light of the late after- 
 noon. They sang sorrowfully and regretfully of 
 their lost treasure ; they circled like wind-ripples 
 upon the surface of the Rhine, and tossed the
 
 On the Banks of the Rhine 125 
 
 bright drops of water about with a soft, splash- 
 ing sound as of tiny bells. The river murmured 
 like a harp lightly played upon by fairy fin- 
 gers, and the voices of the nymphs were as 
 sweet as the tones of the wind moving through 
 the rushes. 
 
 To this lovely, magic-haunted spot came Sieg- 
 fried, looking for a bear which he had wound- 
 ed during a hunt, and had tracked through the 
 woods. The nymphs began to talk to him, and 
 as he answered merrily they drew nearer to the 
 rock where he stood, telling him that they would 
 see that he found his bear if he would, in pay- 
 ment, give them the Ring that he wore upon his 
 finger. 
 
 Laughingl}^ he answered that he had slain a 
 dragon before he could obtain that Ring, and 
 that it would be foolish to give it up now for 
 the sake of a bear. 
 
 After a few more merry words the nymphs be- 
 came suddenly serious. Rising together to the 
 surface of the water, they raised their arms tow- 
 ards him and spoke solemn words of proph- 
 ecy. They told him that sadness awaited him ; 
 that the Ring would bring him nothing but 
 ill-hap ; that it was made of the stolen Rhine- 
 gold, and that a spell had been laid upon it
 
 126 The Story of the Rliinegold 
 
 that brought sorrow and death to whoever pos- 
 sessed it. 
 
 "As the monster worm fell," said the Rhine 
 Maidens, slowly, "so will you fall — and soon! 
 Give it to us, that we may hide it in the river ! 
 For that alone can break the spell." 
 
 And, as Siegfried laughingly shook his head, 
 they continued to plead still more earnestly. 
 They bade him avoid the spell, saying that its 
 history had been woven into the Norns' great 
 rope ; that it must be shunned and feared. But 
 Siegfried scoffed at the Norns and the rope, and 
 said that Fafner had warned him of this danger 
 long ago ; that he had no fear of his life, and 
 would freely fling that away. 
 
 " Farewell, Siegfried !" said the Rhine Maid- 
 ens, as they turned to leave him. "A stately 
 woman will soon possess your circlet. She will 
 better do our bidding. Let us go to her!" 
 
 They swam swiftly away, leaving Siegfried 
 laughing on the shore. For he thought noth- 
 ing of their words, believing their prophecies 
 to have been threats because he would not give 
 them what they wished. 
 
 Laughing still, he blew a long call on his horn, 
 which was answered on all sides by the other 
 hunters, who soon made their appearance, most
 
 On the Banks of the Rhine 127 
 
 of them carrying game of some sort — bear or 
 deer; and Hagen, who was one of the first to 
 come into the little glen down by the Rhine, 
 made sport of Siegfried, because he, the best 
 hunter of them all, had no booty to show for his 
 day's sport. 
 
 Siegfried laughingly told them about the three 
 Rhine Maidens who had warned him of his ap- 
 proaching death ; and Gunther, moving apart 
 from the others with a curious shadow and sad- 
 ness on his face, started terribly, while Hagen 
 merely laughed a harsh, revengeful laugh. 
 
 Gunther did not forget his Oath of Brother- 
 hood ; and, though he believed that Siegfried 
 had deceived him, he hated to harm him, or allow 
 him to be harmed, without better cause. He 
 shuddered and shook his head when the young 
 hero brought him the horn of wine. The rest 
 of the hunters flung themselves down under the 
 trees, and drank merrily and rested in the deep- 
 ening golden light of the afternoon, but Gunther 
 sat apart from them, gloomy and silent, like one 
 who dreamed sad dreams, and could not arouse 
 himself. 
 
 At last, Siegfried, noticing his depression, said 
 that he would tell him the story of his boyhood, 
 if it would amuse and cheer him.
 
 128 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
 And sitting down on the stump of a great 
 tree, with his shield and weapons at his feet, and 
 on all sides the warriors listening eagerly to his 
 words, the young Volsung began his tale, and 
 Hagen stood near, leaning on his spear, a look 
 of grim expectation on his dark face. 
 
 It was of Mime that Siegfried spoke first, 
 Mime and the life in the cave ; the forging of 
 Nothung, and finally the journey to Hate Hole, 
 and the slaying of the monster worm, Fafner. 
 
 He told how the Dragon's blood had given 
 him power to understand the language of birds; 
 and, as he spoke, memories of the soft woodland 
 voices and the rustling of the trees passed ten- 
 derly across his mind. He told of the winning 
 of the Rhinegold Ring and the Tarnhelm, of the » 
 treachery of Mime, and of how he had killed him 
 with Nothung. 
 
 Then he paused, for Hagen came up to him 
 with a drinking-horn filled with wine, which he 
 bade him swallow, saying it would help to clear 
 his memory. Siegfried raised it to his lips and 
 drank, and Hagen stood near, leaning on his 
 spear, and smiling grimly. For the wine had 
 in it something that would, indeed, bring back 
 the young hero's memory, and Hagen knew 
 that, when he remembered Briinnhilde, he would
 
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 On the Banks of the Rhine 129 
 
 be as one deaf and blind to all else, and would 
 so prove an easy victim. 
 
 Siegfried put down the drinking-horn, and, 
 after a moment's silence, resumed his tale, while 
 the memory of the forest sounds passed softly 
 and constantly across his brain. He told, in ten- 
 der tones, how the bird had sung to him of a 
 glorious bride sleeping amid fire far away ; and 
 of how he had passed through the enchanted 
 flame-circle, and, with a kiss, awakened her from 
 her long sleep; and he spoke her name with such 
 love and tenderness that even Hagen's wicked 
 heart should have been touched for a moment ; 
 but he only stood leaning on his spear and smil- 
 ing — always smiling — as one smiles who has 
 knowledge greater than his fellows. 
 
 Gunther started up wildly as Siegfried whis- 
 pered the name of " Brunnhilde "; for the Rhine 
 Chief understood all now, and realized in that 
 short time what deep wickedness it must have 
 been that had parted the noble Volsung and his 
 bride. There had been no deceit, no treachery, 
 no broken Oath of Brotherhood — none of the 
 wickedness had been on the young hero's side. 
 Gunther dropped his head in horror. 
 
 But Hagen took a step forward. 
 
 " See you those Ravens?" he said, slowly, point- 
 9
 
 130 TJie Story of the Rhmegold 
 
 ing to two great black birds flying upward from 
 the Rhine. They were Wotan's King- Ravens, 
 which had been sent out to bring tidings back 
 to Walhalla, and which were returning there with 
 news that the Dusk of the Gods was at hand. 
 Siegfried turned to gaze after them as they flew. 
 It was growing late. The yellow afternoon light 
 was deepening to red gold. The sun was set- 
 ting. The Ravens flew away, their broad black 
 wings bathed in the ruddy light, and it was like 
 the light of a great fire. 
 
 " They arouse in me revenge !" cried Hagen, 
 and he raised his spear and stabbed the young 
 Volsung in the back. Siegfried staggered wild- 
 ly ; and then, raising his shield, tried to crush 
 Hagen with it. But then even his great strength 
 left him, and he fell back upon the ground, while 
 the warriors drew near with exclamations of 
 horror and faces on which a great awe had 
 fallen. 
 
 " I have been revenged," said Hagen, and pass- 
 ed up the rocks and out of sight amid the grow- 
 ing dusk. The sunset was as red as blood now. 
 There was an ominous look in its lurid light — 
 yet a strange peace also. It lay on the head and 
 figure of the young hero like a king's crown and 
 robe.
 
 On the Banks of the Rhine 131 
 
 In the hush that had fallen, 5^t<P^r}-"','(Viaised 
 himself upon his arm and spoke. 
 
 He spoke of Brlinnhilde, his bride ; again 
 he seemed to be on the Walkiires' rock; again 
 she lay before him asleep ; again he awakened 
 her with a kiss. He seemed to look into her 
 eyes, to hear her voice ; she was his once 
 more. 
 
 And with the words " Brlinnhilde beckons to 
 me ! Greeting !" Siegfried sank back and died. 
 And the last light from the setting sun went out 
 of the sky. 
 
 It was very dark — very dark and silent. The 
 warriors raised the hero upon their shoulders and 
 bore him up the rocks. After a while the moon 
 rose, and the pale light touched the helmets 
 of the men and Siegfried's armor as the proces- 
 sion passed up through the shadows. A mist 
 was rising from the Rhine, and it was very 
 still. 
 
 Siegfried was dead, the last of his race — the 
 noble race of Volsungs. He was the bravest of 
 them all, this son of Siegmund and Sieglinde, 
 who had so loved each other. He had done 
 many great deeds with his good sword No- 
 thung. He had been a courageous man and the 
 highest hero in the world, and he had won the
 
 132 
 
 The Story of the Rhinegold 
 
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 the noblest woman ever born. 
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 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE LAST TWILIGHT 
 
 Alone through the great hall of the Gibi- 
 chungs wandered Gutrune, awaiting Siegfried's 
 return from the hunt. Going to Briinnhilde's 
 chamber in the hope of finding a companion 
 in her anxiety, she saw that the room was emp- 
 ty, and remembered that she had seen, some 
 time before, a woman's figure descend towards 
 the Rhine. As she thought of her brother's 
 wild, strange bride, Gutrune shuddered. She 
 moved restlessly about the hall, listening for 
 the clear horn - call that always heralded the 
 coming of the Volsung. 
 
 Suddenly, Hagen appeared with a look of tri- 
 umph on his dark, evil face ; and, directly after-
 
 134 T^fi^ Story of the RJmiegold 
 
 wards, many people came running, in wild con- 
 fusion, carrying torches, and lamenting the hero's 
 death. And, finally, came the warriors bearing 
 Siegfried upon a great bier. 
 
 With wails of anguish, Gutrune flung herself 
 on her knees beside her hero, and pushed Gun- 
 ther away wildly when he strove to comfort 
 her, calling him the murderer of her husband. 
 
 But Gunther denied the charge, and pointed 
 to Hagen, accusing him, in heart-broken tones, of 
 having slain their hero. Hagen answered, with 
 calm defiance, that he had, indeed, killed Sieg- 
 fried, and that he now demanded as booty the 
 Ring that gleamed upon the finger of the Vol- 
 sung. 
 
 Fiercely, Gunther claimed the circlet for his 
 sister, as widow's dower. Hagen sprang forward 
 to attack him, and the half-brothers fought wild- 
 ly together for the Rhinegold Ring.' At last, 
 with an exultant gesture, Hagen raised his sword 
 above his head ; for, at his feet lay Gunther, the 
 Gibichung — dead. 
 
 "The Ring!" cried the Nibelung's son, and 
 he sprang to the bier. But, ere he could touch 
 Siegfried's hand where gleamed the circlet, it 
 raised itself threateningly. And even Hagen 
 started back in terror. On all sides people trem-
 
 The Last Twilight 135 
 
 bled with fear and horror. Gutrune screamed 
 wildly as her eyes encountered her brother's 
 body on the ground. 
 
 Into this place of sorrow and confusion came 
 a tall woman, robed in white, with a face most 
 beautiful in its gentleness and strength ; and be- 
 fore so calm and tender a gaze the crowd part- 
 ed, as though in awe, to let the woman pass. 
 
 It was Briinnhilde, who had heard from the 
 water -maidens everything that had happened 
 on the shores of the Rhine. She understood all 
 now. She understood that he had never been 
 false, knowingly ; that his last loving words had 
 been of her — and her alone. And she had come, 
 with her great wisdom and her great love, to 
 bring peace to the turbulent hearts gathered 
 about Siegfried's bier. 
 
 She stood for a long time gazing down on the 
 face of her hero — " The highest hero of worlds," 
 she called him. She looked around her and 
 smiled upon the confusion and sorrow, and, be- 
 fore the tenderness and solemn sweetness of that 
 smile, the confusion seemed to die away and the 
 sorrow seemed but as something too small to be 
 shown. 
 
 Piteously, Gutrune sobbed out v/ords of regret 
 for the wrong which had been done Briinnhilde,
 
 136 TJie Story of the Rhincgold 
 
 and reproached Hagen for his share in the plot. 
 But Briinnhilde hardly heard. 
 
 In slow, solemn tones, she ordered a funeral 
 pyre to be lighted on the banks of the Rhine, 
 and, bending over Siegfried, she spoke tenderly 
 of his love and of his nobility and truth. 
 
 Then, turning away, she raised her arms on 
 high and broke into sublime words, in which 
 she reproached Wotan for his wrath, and added 
 that already his Ravens were on their way to 
 Walhalla to carry the long-deferred tidings of 
 the last Twilight — so close at hand. 
 
 " Rest ! Rest ! O gods !" she said, softly, and 
 paused. She turned towards Siegfried again and 
 drew the Ring from his finger. Then she spoke 
 to the three invisible Rhine children, and told 
 them to take the circlet from her ashes when 
 she had been burned with her hero. 
 
 The pyre was erected now, and Siegfried's 
 body had been placed upon it. Grani was led 
 in, and Briinnhilde laid her arm upon his neck 
 tenderly, and spoke of the warrior who was dead 
 and of the leap into the flames they were both 
 about to take. Wildly, she seized a torch and 
 lighted the pyre ; and, as the flames rose high, 
 she sprang upon the horse's back and raised him 
 for a leap.
 
 The Last Twilight 137 
 
 " Siegfried ! Siegfried ! See !" she cried — and 
 her voice echoed both far and near. " Gladly 
 greets thee thy bride !" 
 
 Into the flames sprang Grani, the stanch war- 
 horse, and the Walkiire was gone from the eyes 
 of men forever. But, behold ! Her deed 
 brought release from the sin and sorrow of many 
 years. 
 
 The flames, rising high and higher, made a 
 great fiery wall between the earth and sky. The 
 Rhine Maidens swam up to the shore and caught 
 a bright circlet lying near in the midst of a heap 
 of ashes. Hagen, springing after it, was lost in 
 the Rhine's rushing waters forever. 
 
 But now a wonderful sight met the gaze of the 
 awe-stricken people crouching in the hall of the 
 Gibichungs. 
 
 In the high heavens, Walhalla's stately towers 
 appeared in a bright ring of fire. The fagots 
 made from the World -Ash had at last caught 
 fire. Dimly could be seen the great array of 
 gods and heroes awaiting the Last Twilight, 
 and the end. 
 
 Wildly, and still more wildly, leaped the flames. 
 Walhalla was surrounded with red fire — it could 
 no longer be seen. A fearful light glowed upon 
 earth and heaven.
 
 138 
 
 The Story of the RJiinegold 
 
 Lo ! the Dusk of the Gods was come. 
 * * * * * 
 
 And that was how the Last Twilight came to 
 Walhalla, and how Briinnhilde Hfted the spell off 
 the world and expiated the old sins of so many- 
 years before. 
 
 And that was how the Golden Age came to 
 an end, and a better and nobler era of truth and 
 happiness reigned upon the earth. 
 
 So the enchanted Rhinegold came back to the 
 hands of its first guardians — the maidens of the 
 river ; and, after great sorrow and turmoil, there 
 was at last peace. 
 
 Jr-i 3i-^l h 
 
 ♦-^ 
 
 Motif of Briinnhilde's Expiation 
 
 FINIS 
 
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