  A Stage Festival Play First performed in its entirety at Bayreuth, August, 1876; Munich, 1878; Vienna, Leipsic, 1879; Hamburg, 1880; Berlin, 1881; London, KÖnigsberg, Hanover, Danzig, Breslau, Bremen, Barmen, 1882; New York, Metropolitan Opera House, March 4, 5, 8 and 11, 1889. DAS RHEINGOLDPrologue to "Der Ring des Nibelungen." First performed at the Royal Court Theatre, Munich, September 22, 1869. Original Cast.
This performance was against the wish of Wagner. The first authorised performance was that at the Festspielhaus, Bayreuth, August 13, 1876, when the cast was as follows:
Weimar, Vienna, Leipsic, Hamburg, Brunswick, 1878; Mannheim, Cologne, 1879; Frankfort, London, 1882. First performed in America at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, Jan. 4, 1889. Cast.
Conductor, Anton Seidl. DIE WALKÜREMusic Drama in Three Acts. First evening of the trilogy, "Der Ring des Nibelungen." First performed at the Royal Court Theatre in Munich, contrary to the author's wish, on Aug. 26, 1870. Original Cast.
First authorised performance in the Festspielhaus at Bayreuth, Aug. 14, 1876. Original Bayreuth Cast.
Vienna, New York, 1877; Rotterdam, Leipsic, Hamburg, Schwerin, 1878; Weimar, Mannheim, Cologne, Brunswick, 1879; KÖnigsberg, Frankfort, 1882. First performed in America at the Academy of Music, New York, April 2, 1877. Cast.
Conductor, Adolf Neuendorff. SIEGFRIEDMusic Drama in Three Acts. Second evening of the trilogy, "Der Ring des Nibelungen." First performed at the Festspielhaus, Bayreuth, August 16, 1876. Original Cast.
Hamburg, Vienna, Munich, Leipsic, 1878; Schwerin, Brunswick, 1879; Cologne, 1880. First performed in America at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, Nov. 9, 1887. Cast.
Conductor, Anton Seidl. GÖTTERDÄMMERUNGMusic Drama in Three Acts. Third evening of the trilogy, "Der Ring des Nibelungen." First performed at the Festspielhaus in Bayreuth, August 17, 1876. Original Cast.
Munich, Leipsic, 1878; Vienna, Hamburg, Brunswick, 1879; Cologne, 1882. First performed in America at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, Jan. 25, 1888. Cast.
Conductor, Anton Seidl. (The Waltraute and Norn scenes were omitted. They were first given at the Metropolitan on January 24, 1899, when Mme. Schumann-Heink was the Waltraute, and also one of the Norns. The others were Olga Pevny and Louise Meisslinger. "Der Ring des Nibelungen" was first performed without cuts at the Metropolitan on January 12, 17, 19, and 24, 1899.) DER RING DES NIBELUNGENI.—The Sources of the PoemsThe gigantic tetralogy of Wagner must be studied as a single opus, for such indeed it is. A poem in four cantos, a dramatic sequence after the manner of the Greeks, it is the story of a single action, a single crime and its tragic atonement. What that story is we shall presently see. How Wagner conceived and created his new and wonderful version of the Norse mythology, the Volsunga Saga, and the "Nibelungen Lied," is what must first occupy our attention. Wagner's first mention of this work is found in a letter to Liszt, written in June, 1849, when he announces his intention of setting to music his "latest German drama, the 'Death of Siegfried.'" This drama embodied that part of the story now told in "GÖtterdÄmmerung," and in the composition of it Wagner found that the necessary explanations of the incidents leading up to the story quickly became too long and complex. He decided that he must write a prefatory drama on the story of the young Siegfried, and in doing this he found himself involved again in explanatory difficulties. Thus he finally decided to make a trilogy with a prologue. In a long letter of Nov. 20, 1851, to Liszt he explains how the completed form of "Der Ring" came into existence. The books of "Das Rheingold" and "Die WalkÜre" were finished in the first week of November, 1852. He then set about reconstructing the other two, already written, but now in need of extensive alterations. The story of the completion of the poem in its new form and the beginning of the music has already been told in the biographical part of this work. It is necessary only to recapitulate here that the text was finished in 1853. The music of "Rheingold" was begun in the autumn of 1853 at Spezzia, and finished in January, 1854. He wrote to Liszt on Jan. 14: "I went to this music with so much faith, so much joy; and with a true fury of despair I continued, and have at last finished it." The music of "Die WalkÜre" was begun in June, 1854, and finished late in the same year. The instrumentation was commenced with the opening of the following year. Then came the visit to London, where the score of the first act was completed in April. The score of the first two acts was sent to Liszt on Oct. 3. Wagner having been delayed in the work by many distractions and by mental depression, it was not till the ensuing year that the score was wholly written. The music of "Siegfried" was begun in 1857, and the first act was finished in April of that year. The second act was begun, and then came the interruption caused by Wagner's eagerness to return to active touch with the stage, his pressing need of money, and his fear that he would not live to complete his gigantic undertaking. This second act, therefore, was not completed till June 21, 1865, at Munich, "Tristan und Isolde" having been written in the meantime. The third act was finished early in 1869. The music Just how Wagner came to take up the subject of Siegfried's death is not known. A recent German writer in one of the Munich newspapers has asserted that the suggestion came from Minna, his first wife. This assertion is in line with the belief of many that Minna was more sinned against than sinning, and that Wagner's complaints of her inability to understand him were intended to divert suspicion from the real causes of the troubles between them. It seems hardly likely, however, that a woman of Minna's simple character would have conceived the availability of the Siegfried legend for Wagner's ideal music drama. The fact that Siegfried had for centuries been the popular mythical hero of the German people and that his deeds and personality had constituted most of the materials of one of the great mediÆval German epics, the "Nibelungen Lied," seems sufficient to have attracted the attention of the master to the subject. He himself says in his "Communication" that even while he was at work on "Lohengrin" he was debating which of two subjects, "Friedrich Barbarossa" or "Siegfried," he should take up next. He adds: "Once again and for the last time did myth and history stand before me with opposing claims; this It was with the decision to utilise only mythical subjects for his serious dramas that he concluded to lay aside "Barbarossa" and work upon "The Death of Siegfried." This poem in its original form is included in the collected writings of Wagner, and is interesting as being the first attempt of Wagner to embody the legendary tragedy in a drama. A reading of it will show clearly why he was obliged to write three other dramas to lead up to this one and make its meaning comprehensible. In working out the plan as a whole he selected and utilised with his customary skill the salient points of the Norse and German forms of the story, and he found more suitable material in the sagas than in the German epic. And out of the Northern mythology, so beautifully stored in the sagas, he evolved those ethical features which raise "Der Ring des Nibelungen" to a position beside the great Greek tragedies of antiquity. We must study these dramas chiefly by tracing their sources and showing how Wagner utilised his materials. He himself wrote an article entitled "The Nibelungen Myth as Material for a Drama," and in it may be found the germinal form of the entire story as it first took cognisable existence in his mind. In its completed shape, however, it differs from this embryonic outline in many particulars. First, then, the age of the legends upon which these dramas are founded is not so great as might appear from their mythological nature, and that will explain some of their curiosities. We are prone, when When the dominion of Rome in the west of Europe was overthrown in 476 A.D., the Teutonic race occupied the country from the banks of the Rhine and the Danube to the coasts of Norway. The invaders who settled in the southern provinces of Europe soon lost their distinctive speech. But in Germany and Scandinavia the old tongues remained, and consequently poetic recitation, the custom of long centuries, continued. Tacitus tells us that the people of these northern lands were accustomed to store their history in rhyming chronicles repeated by the bards. It was not till the reign of the wise and heroic Charlemagne (742-814) that these chronicles were collected. Nothing remains of the collection which he made, but it can hardly be doubted that some of the materials found in the Siegfried legend formed part of the old stories of the bards, for it has been traced back as far as the sixth century, when its germs were recognisable. In the first preserved form of the story of this hero's exploits we find recorded the fabulous history of times not widely separated from those of the conquest of Rome's western em This first preserved form of the legend is called the "Heldenbuch" ("Book of Heroes"). In its present shape it dates from the latter part of the twelfth century, but there is evidence that it was in existence long before that period. It is a collection of poems dealing with the events of the time of Attila and the incursions of the German nations into Rome. The principal personages who appear in this book are: Etzel, or Attila; Dietrich, or Theodoric the Great; Siegfried, Gudrune, Hagen, and others who reappear in the "Nibelungen Lied." The period of the events which occur in the Wagnerian dramas may be estimated by the formation of a succession of incidents leading back to Attila, an historical personage with an established date. In "The Horny Siegfried," one of the poems of the "Heldenbuch," we find matter which serves as a prelude to the "Nibelungen Lied." In this poem Siegfried appears as the embodiment of manly heroism, beauty, and virtue, as he was known to Teutonic song and story for centuries. From having bathed in the blood of dragons he was invulnerable except in one spot, between the shoulders, on which a leaf had happened to fall. Having rescued the beautiful Chriemhild from dragons (or a giant) and obtained possession of the treasures of the dwarfs, he returns her to her father, King of Wurms, and then marries her. The "Nibelungen Lied" identifies Chriemhild as the sister of Gunther, the Gutrune of Wagner's version. Chriemhild, in order to obtain revenge for the treachery From the Heldenbuch the next step in the Gunther weds Brunhild and Siegfried marries Gutrune, but the proud Queen of Isenland does not relish the idea of having for a sister-in-law the wife of a vassal. Gunther tells her that Siegfried is a Prince in his own country, but she disbelieves her spouse, and to punish him for his falsehood denies him her embraces, binds him with her magic girdle, and hangs him on a nail. Siegfried, having pity on Gunther, promises to deprive Brunhild of the girdle and make her a wife in fact as well as in name. So on the following night, disguised by the Tarnkappe, he takes Gunther's place, embraces the unwilling Brunhild, and carries off her magic girdle and her ring. Gutrune misses Siegfried from the chamber, and in the end he This is a very brief and imperfect outline of the mighty epic of mediÆval Germany. It breathes the spirit of mediÆvalism, and it contains none of the mythological features which appear in the beautiful Scandinavian version of the story of Siegfried. Yet it has certain incidents employed by Wagner in the dramas, especially in "GÖtterdÄmmerung." The use of the Tarnhelm, the substitution of Siegfried for Gunther in the wedding chamber, the discovery of the deception through the recognition of the ring by BrÜnnhilde, and the slaying of Siegfried by Hagen's spear-thrust in the back—all appear in the drama in most significant forms. It is to the Norse forms of the legend, however, that we must turn for the earlier parts of Wagner's story and for the most significant features of the undercurrent of ethical thought. This version in its oldest form is found in the Eddas, some of which are undoubtedly of great antiquity. Yet in these poems we meet with the historic name of Attila. No doubt many deeds performed by earlier and forgotten heroes How old the original Eddaic stories are can only be conjectured. When the Scando-Gothic races overran Europe they carried at least the germs of these stories with them, but no man knows where they got them. But it is certain that the northern versions of the Nibelung tales, as known to us now, must have originated in the same legends as the "Nibelungen Lied." It was not until the middle of the seventeenth century that the collection of the rhymed Eddas made by Saemund the Wise was discovered, and the prose Eddas of Snorre Sturleson (born 1178, died 1224) were written a century later than these. For Saemund the Wise was born in 1056 and died in 1131, and therefore the date of his collection of the rhymed Eddas is not much earlier than that of the "Nibelungen Lied." Both the Eddas and the Lied were widely diverging branches of an old trunk, and that accounts in a measure for both their resemblances and their differences. The southern version is more adulterated with inexact history, while the northern embodies more of the fundamental religious mythology of the people. Far away in the snowy fastnesses of Iceland were It was in 1643 that Brynjolf Sveinsson, Bishop of Skalholt, discovered the manuscripts of Saemund the Wise, and he christened them the "Edda Saemundar The poems which contain the story of Sigurd and BrÜnnhilde are a portion of the second part of the Elder Edda. An important part, recounting the story of Sigurd's life from his meeting with BrÜnnhilde to his death, has been lost, and for that part of the tale we are compelled to go to the Prose Edda and the Volsunga Saga. In the second part of his Younger Edda, Snorre Sturleson rehearsed briefly in simple prose the story of Sigurd the Volsung, which in the Elder Edda ran through several poems, forming in their natural connection an epic of great power. As one of the historians of Norse literature says: "The sad and absorbing story here narrated was wonderfully popular throughout the ancient Scandinavian and Teutonic world, and it is impossible to It is possible that this is true, but the original history of the personages is quite lost. The story told in the "Skaldskaparmal," the second part of the Younger Edda, is a rehearsal of the contents of the "Short Lay of Sigurd," "The Lay of Fafner," and one or two others in the Elder Edda bearing on the Volsung tale. Wagner has utilised certain portions of these original lays, especially that of Fafner. The words of the Forest Bird to Siegfried come very close to those of the Eagles, who sang to Sigurd in "The Lay of Fafner":
Compare this passage with the words of the Forest Bird in Act II. of "Siegfried":
But it was in the Volsunga Saga that Wagner found his material in its fullest and most available form. None of the editors of the remnants of Icelandic literature makes it clear, so far as I have been able to ascertain, whether the Volsunga Saga is older than Snorre's Edda or not. The facts seem to be that most of the sagas, including this one, had come into settled form about 900 A.D., and were written down between 1140 and 1220, or during the lifetime of Snorre. It is probable, therefore, that Snorre's recapitulation of the Volsung story was founded as much upon the Volsunga Saga as upon the poems of the Elder Edda. In all likelihood he knew both, and accepted the definite outline of the saga as a shape into which to put his recital of the contents of the lays. The value of the Volsunga Saga in relation to the Nibelung tale lies in the fact that its compiler was acquainted with some of the lays of the Elder Edda, now lost, and that he recounted their incidents for us, and that it supplied Wagner with the principal materials for three out of four of the "Ring" dramas. The origin of this saga is not known, but may easily be surmised. The Norse sagaman was a luxury of every Court, as were the Norman minstrel and the Saxon gleeman, and it was frequently his office to glorify his sovereign in song by connecting him with the marvellous heroes of ancient fable. Students of mediÆval epics know that it was common for their makers to seek thus to laud their patrons. An As a corollary to the chief saga there may be mentioned the Thidrek (Dietrich) Saga, which includes the Niflunga Saga, and was, as its writer states, made from the German stories. This saga agrees in some parts with the poems of Eddaic origin, and in others with the "Nibelungen Lied." There is also the Nornagest Saga, in which Nornagest (the Guest of the Norns) tells how he witnessed some of Sigurd's deeds and his death. But the fundamental saga is that which tells the story of the Volsung race. The story of the Volsunga Saga is too long to be repeated in full in this volume, but an outline of its principal incidents must be given. The genealogy of the Volsung race begins with Odin, whose son was Sigi, who begat Rerir, the father of Volsung, a mighty king. In the midst of Volsung's palace, with its branches piercing the roof, stood the great tree called the Branstock. Volsung had ten sons and a daughter, the latter born a twin with the eldest son. Their names were Sigmund and Signy. King Siggeir of Gothland wedded Signy, and at the feast there came into the hall an old, one-eyed man, wrapped in a robe, and he struck a sword into the Branstock so that no man save Sigmund could draw it forth. Siggeir was jealous and when he had returned to his own land with his bride he invited Volsung and his sons In time, Sigmund and Sinfjotli slew Siggeir, and Signy, having revealed the fact that Sinfjotli was a full-blooded Volsung, died with her husband. Sigmund now married Borghild, who hated Sinfjotli and poisoned him. Sigmund divorced her and married again, his second wife being Hjordis, who had rejected Hunding, the son of Lygni. Hunding came with his followers and fought Sigmund, whose sword was broken in the battle by the spear of an old, one-eyed man, wrapped in a mantle. Dying, Sigmund gave the pieces of the broken sword to Hjordis to keep for her son, who was to be the greatest of the Volsungs. Hjordis went to the Court of the King of Denmark and bore the son, who was called Sigurd. Alf, the son of the Danish King, wedded Hjordis, and Sigurd grew up at the Court. His foster-father and instructor was Regin, a famous smith, a man of wisdom. Regin saw that Sigurd would be a hero, and hoped to make use of him. Sigurd was sent to the woods to choose himself a horse, and on the way One Hreidmar had three sons—Fafnir, Otter, and Regin. Otter was so called because he was wont to take the form of an otter and go into the lake called Andvari's Lake to catch fish. One day Odin, HÖnir, and Loki, three of the gods, came to the lake, and Loki threw a stone at the otter and slew it. They took off the skin and went to the house of Hreidmar, who recognised the skin and bade them pay him a ransom of so much gold as should cover the skin as it stood upright. Now Loki knew that Andvari had a great store of gold, and, going back to the lake, he caught Andvari, who was swimming in the guise of a pike, and refused to release him unless he gave up all his gold and also the ring by whose magic power the gold was obtained. And in his wrath Andvari cursed the gold and the ring and declared that they should be the bane of every man who should thereafter own them. Loki and the gods strove to cover the otter skin with the gold, but Hreidmar still saw one muzzle-hair of the otter, and they were obliged to add also the ring to hide this. Then Loki said to Hreidmar:
"Thereafter," continued Regin, "Fafnir slew his father and murdered him, nor got I aught of the treasure, and so evil he grew that he fell to lying abroad and begrudged any share in the wealth to any man, and so became the worst of all worms, and ever now lies brooding upon that treasure." Sigurd bade Regin make him a sword with which to slay the dragon, but every one which the smith made the youth broke across the anvil. Then Sigurd bade him weld the shards of the sword Gram, which had belonged to Sigmund. And when these were welded Sigurd smote the anvil with the new blade and clove it in twain. Then Sigurd went to fight the sons of Hunding and slew them to avenge his father's death. Next he went in accordance with his promise to Regin and slew Fafnir, the dragon. And Fafnir told him that the treasure which he would gain would be his bane. At the desire of Regin he roasted the dragon's heart, and in preparing it he wet his finger with the blood and cleansed it with his tongue. Immediately he understood the language of the birds and heard the woodpeckers chattering to the effect that he should slay the treacherous Regin, who desired his death, should secure the gold for himself and ride to Hindfell, where slept Brynhild, for there he would get great wisdom. Sigurd slew Regin and rode off in search of Brynhild, who lay in a castle on a mountain surrounded by fire. Sigurd rode to her through the fire. He took off her helm and cut the byrny (breast-plate) from her with his sword. And she awoke and asked the name of her awakener. And when she had learned it she sang:
She told Sigurd how she had struck down in battle Helm Gunnar, whom Odin had selected to be victorious. "And Odin, in vengeance for that deed, stuck the sleep-thorn into me and said I should never again have the victory, but should be given away in marriage; but thereagainst I vowed a vow that never would I wed one who knew the name of fear." Then she taught him all her runes, and they two plighted their troth. He went his way, but they met again and renewed their vows and he gave her a ring, the ring of Andvari. Before he departed again she prophesied that he would wed Gudrun, the daughter of King Giuki. Giuki ruled south of the Rhine. He had three sons, Gunnar (Gunther), HÖgni (Hagen) and Guttorm, and one daughter, Gudrun. His wife was Grimhild, skilled in magic arts. Sigurd went to their court and stayed five seasons, and Grimhild perceived how dearly Sigurd loved Brynhild, for he spoke much of her, and she also saw that he was a goodly man and she wished to have him wed Gudrun. So she mixed him a drink which caused him to forget Brynhild and he began to Such is the story of the Volsunga Saga as far as it The injection into the northern legends of the gods and goddesses of Scandinavian mythology and of the stories of the sins of Wotan and the certainty of future destruction of the gods furnished Wagner with the material for all the early portion of his mighty drama. It provided him with the ethical basis which makes Wotan the real hero of a tragedy, to end in the extinction not only of himself and his associate gods, but of the entire old order of the world, and the establishment of a new one. This last idea is found in the songs of the Elder Edda, "Odin's Raven Song," and "Song of the Way Tamer." These relate to the death of Baldur, the favourite son of Odin, and are dark with the mystery of an unknown terror. The gods are disturbed to the depths of their beings, and Odin mounts his steed and rides to Hell to consult the Wala (Erda) and force from her by means of runes some information as In order that we may understand the true plot of "Der Ring des Nibelungen," we must briefly examine the mythological basis of it, as furnished by the Eddas. According to the Eddas, then, the gods dwelt in Asgard (the place of the Ases or Aesir), in the castle named Walhalla, the abode of slain heroes. These gods were not immortal, but were extraordinary beings gifted with wonderful length of days. But they knew that at some time they must meet in final conflict their enemies, of which the chief were the giants. There was also in the far south a mysterious Surtur, with a flaming sword, and the sons of Muspel, who would join in the last great assault on the gods. Allied with these giants would be the horrible children of Loki—the Midgard Snake, which encircled the earth, and the Fenris Wolf. Loki was the spirit of evil, the god of fire, yet he was received among the gods The master of all the gods was Odin, or Wotan, the lord of war and the hunt. Upon the field of battle he was followed by his Valkyrs, Wish-Maidens, choosers of the slain, who consecrated the fallen heroes with kisses and carried them away to Walhalla. There they ate of the feast of the blessed and waited to aid Wotan in his final battle with the powers of evil. The mother of the gods was Fricka, the wife of Wotan, the Juno of the Norse mythology. Freya was the goddess of Love, the Venus of the assembly. Iduna, another goddess, had care of the golden apples of endless youth, which the gods ate. Thor was the wielder of the mighty hammer, made for him by the dwarfs. The story runs thus: Fear of the giants led the gods to desire to have the mighty burg Walhalla surrounded by a strong wall. By the advice of Loki they swore a great oath to give the goddess Freya and the sun and the moon to the builder of this wall, provided that he had it finished before the coming of summer. If the work was then incomplete, the contract was void. The builder, a Frost-Giant in disguise, asked only the aid of his horse Svadilfare, and this was allowed him. The horse carried such vast stones that the work was almost done several days before the time expired. The gods held a council, "and asked each other who could have advised to give Freya in marriage in Jothunheim (the giant's land) or to plunge the air and the heavens in darkness
Thus did sin enter among the gods, and by the breaking of the oath they burdened themselves with guilt inexpiable. Evil portents came. Iduna sank with her golden apples of eternal youth to the lower depths, and could not be recalled. Baldur, the second son of Wotan, the holy one, into whose presence no impure thing might come, had terrible dreams. Hel, the goddess of the lower world and of death, appeared to him and beckoned him to come to her. Now the last scenes begin. Wotan rides to the realm of shades and summons the Wala, who foretells the death of Baldur. Fricka begs all things living or inanimate to swear that they will not injure II.—The Story as Told by WagnerWe may now briefly review the four dramas of "Der Ring," and trace the connection of their incidents. "Das Rheingold" is the prologue of the whole, and it is essential that we should thoroughly understand its story, for it lays down the basis, the motive, of the entire tragedy. We see the Rhine One of the maidens tells us that their father had warned them of a foe to come from the bottom of the river, but we never learn who was that father. Nor is any light thrown on the origin of the gold itself. In the Volsunga Saga we find it in the water, the possession of Andvari. In the "Nibelungen Lied" Siegfried wins the gold from two brothers, Schilbung and Nibelung, who brought it forth from a cave. It had been stored there for centuries. In the Thidrek Saga Siegfried wins it from a dragon, which he kills. But none of the versions account for the origin of the gold. All agree that it finally returned to the Rhine, and that may have been the source of Wagner's idea. Nor is there any slightest foundation for the proclamation that only he who forswears love will be able to profit by the gold. Wagner has simply allowed his fancy to work with the old maxim that money is the root of all evil, and to represent the gods themselves as ignorant of the power of gold and innocent of In order to get at the full meaning of these Nibelung dramas we must keep ever in mind Wagner's intent to follow in a measure the methods of the Greek dramatists. Æschylus, the greatest of the Greek tragic writers, excelled in showing the inexorable workings of Fate, which in the Greek mind corresponded to the modern conception of the inevitable punishment for sin. Wagner is purely Æschylean in his method of constructing his tragedy, and he sets forth the inflexible processes of Fate with the same high purpose. But as he addressed himself to a modern audience he offered to it that conception of Fate with which it was familiar, namely, the absolute certainty of punishment for transgression of the moral law. That he found in the old Norse legend a foundation for this idea was fortunate. It simplified his work, yet left room for him to introduce striking original matter. The rape of the gold by one who has renounced love is original with Wagner. In the second scene of the prologue, then, we find Wotan and Fricka before the completed castle of Walhalla, which Wotan salutes in a speech of majestic dignity. Fricka at once reminds him of the price to be paid. When Freia enters, calling upon Wotan to release her from the giants, we quickly learn that it was Loge who devised the bargain and who is depended upon by Wotan to find a way out of it. The giants demand their pay. Wotan tells them they cannot have Freia. Then even the "stupid giant," as Wotan and Loge in Nibelheim, the abode of the Nibelungs, is the next picture. Alberich has welded the ring and is the master of his race. Mime has made for him the Tarnhelm, which is to be the instrument of much evil. He prates of the power which
The dwarf, like the giant, knows what must be the consequence of the infraction by the presiding god of the law above all gods. But Wotan tears the ring from his finger. Then Alberich curses the ring. It shall deal out death, not power. It shall bring misery, not gladness. But this curse is, after all, only a piece of stage property. It makes a theatrical effect, and it marks a climax for the auditor. The real curse already exists the moment Wotan stains himself with crime. The thought of the Norse mythology, as set forth in the Eddas, but lost by the maker of Volsunga Saga, is preserved by Wagner in the prophecy of Alberich. The law will do its own work; but the curse has an external and incidental value in the construction of the drama. Alberich puts into words the inevitable operation of the law. The prologue now moves swiftly to its end. The giants return with Freia, and it is arranged that they are to receive for her enough gold to hide her. This is Wagner's adaptation of the incident of the filling of the otter skin in the Volsunga Saga. The hoard proves insufficient, and the Tarnhelm goes to swell the heap. Fasolt, the giant who is smitten by the charms of the goddess, still sees the glorious glance of her eye, and demands that Wotan put the ring on the pile to stop this last cranny. Compare Hreidmar's discovery of the muzzle-hair with this poetic idea! The haughty god refuses. The giants declare the bargain off, and start away again with Freia. Loge's plan is working perfectly. He never loses any opportunity to fasten more firmly upon Wotan his burden of guilt. When the giants demand the ring, Loge interposes, saying that the gods must retain that because Wotan means to restore it to the Rhine maidens. Wotan at once falls into the trap, and says:
When Wotan has flatly refused to give the ring to the giants, Erda, the embodiment of the earth itself, the impersonation of primeval elements, arises in pale light and mystery. She warns Wotan to flee the curse of the ring. She declares herself to be the all-knowing prophetess, and says:
This brief scene, so charged with dramatic and musical potency, is Wagner's use of the prophecy of the Wala, as contained in the Elder Edda. That prophecy foretells the end of the gods, but its situation in the story is similar to that of the Erda scene in "Siegfried." It comes near the end of the tragedy. Nevertheless from it Wagner obtained the character of Erda and the prediction made by her in "Das Rheingold." The prophecy of the Wala in the Edda does not touch upon the sin of the gods, but it sets forth in detail the story of RagnarÖk, as I have already given it. Wagner, however, connects the Wala's utterance with the ethical basis of his tragedy. Wotan, impressed by the prediction, gives up the ring and ransoms Freia. The curse at once begins to operate. The giants quarrel over the division of the hoard and Fafner kills Fasolt. In the Volsunga Saga, from which this incident is adapted, Fafner slays his father, while his brother Regin plays the part allotted by Wagner to Mime in "Siegfried," as we shall presently see. Fafner goes off to the forest with his hoard, and there, as in the saga, becomes a dragon, by the aid of the Tarnhelm, and lies guarding the hoard, which he does not know how to use, for he is too stupid to employ the power of the ring. Donner raises a thunderstorm to clear the air after the murder, and when the rain is gone a rainbow is seen spanning the valley of the Rhine. The new castle stands forth in all its glory, and Wotan, inviting Fricka to enter with him, for the first time calls it Walhalla.
The thought in Wotan's mind is that of raising up a race of free heroes who shall perform vicariously the expiation denied to him. One of them shall of his own volition rescue the ring and restore it to its rightful owners, thus satisfying the demands of the law and removing the curse. The conception of the hero in the mind of Wotan is made known to us only by the orchestra, which intones the Sword motive here for the first time. In recent years, with the sanction of Mme. Wagner, a new idea has been introduced into this scene. In the hoard is the sword, which is discarded by Fafner as valueless. When Wotan conceives the hero-thought, he picks up this sword and raises it aloft while the trumpet peals out the motive. This was not Wagner's idea, but it is not an unpardonable concession to the demands of the theatre. It was just a little too much for Wagner to expect that his auditors would carry the Sword motive in their minds from "Das Rheingold" to the first act of "Die WalkÜre," and remember when hearing it in the latter how it was used in the former and thus find out what it meant there. Over the rainbow—BifrÖst, as it is called in the Eddas—the gods enter Walhalla, the Rhine maidens vainly pleading from the valley below for the return of their ring, and Loge gloating over the end to which, as he says, the Aesir are even now hastening. And With the passage from "Das Rheingold" to "Die WalkÜre" we enter upon the struggles of the innocent human beings who have been created by Wotan to work his will. The beautiful drama in which Wagner sets forth the events leading to the birth of Siegfried and the slumber of BrÜnnhilde on the mountain is built from mere hints in the Volsunga Saga. Volsung is no longer the great-grandson of Wotan, but is Wotan himself. Siegmund and Sieglinde are Sigmund and Signy of the saga, twin children of Wotan. The name Sieglinde is that of Siegfried's mother, according to the "Nibelungen Lied." It is Hunding, not Siggeir, who marries Sieglinde. The fight between Hunding and Siegmund takes place, not because of the former's rejection by the maid, but because of the latter's flight with her. The mysterious one-eyed man strikes the sword into the tree at the wedding-feast, and on his spear the sword of Siegmund is broken in the fight. Siegmund Wagner substitutes for the warrior whom BrÜnnhilde in the saga once struck down, contrary to Wotan's wishes, and when she is put to sleep on the mountain it is for protecting, not slaying, the wrong man. We find that she is surrounded by fire at her own request, that Wotan rules that she shall marry only the hero who will know no fear and can pierce the fire, and that this hero is to be the offspring of The first act of the drama is taken up with the mutual recognition of Siegmund and Sieglinde, their strange love for one another, the reception of the sword by the hero for whom it was struck into the tree, and the flight of the lovers. Then comes the deeply significant opening scene of the second act. The Valkyr BrÜnnhilde, revealed to us in all the glory of her divine beauty and strength, starting to the field, is warned not to carry Hunding to Walhalla. To Wotan now comes Fricka, stirred to the bottom of her nature by the deep affront in the action of Siegmund and Sieglinde to her dignity as the goddess of marriage. She demands the punishment of the erring pair. Wotan vainly pleads that the gods need the aid of a hero working of his own free will in their defence. Fricka brushes aside this plea with the declaration that heroes have no powers which are denied to gods. She tells Wotan that it is he who breathes courage into Siegmund, that it was he who struck the sword into the tree, devised the need into which Siegmund should fall, and guided him to the house of Hunding. She stands upon her dignity as the celestial queen and demands that the outrage of her especial laws shall be punished. Wotan must not protect Siegmund in the coming fight and he must forbid BrÜnnhilde's doing so. By hard-wrung oath she binds her spouse to abandon his own plan and submit to the demands of the inexorable moral law. BrÜnnhilde returns to his side only to learn the story of her sire's grief. He tells her the history of the rape of the gold, of the endless scheming of Alberich for the downfall of the gods, of his own plan to fill Walhalla with defenders, of his search for Erda, and her becoming BrÜnnhilde's mother. If Alberich recovers the ring Walhalla is lost, for only he who forswore love can work evil with the circlet of Rhine gold. The ring must be taken from Fafner, but Wotan dare not take it himself because to do so would be a violation of faith and bring more suffering upon him. Only the free hero can accomplish this end. But Fricka has unmasked the truth. Siegmund is but the slave of Wotan's will. And in his final outburst of grief and impotent rage the god sums up his misery:
How Wagner builds upon his material! Hagen, the hatred-born son of Alberich, offspring of gold, shall cause the downfall of the gods. He, the child of evil, shall be the instrument of law! And all this is original with Wagner. To mere hints in the sources he adds the details of a complete poetic story, and always the development of the fundamental ethical thought on which the whole tragedy rests is his. Yet these scenes, in which the god is revealed to us as so intensely human, are the ones to which the average attendant at Wagner performances give the least thought. "I am anxious for the weighty second act; it contains two catastrophes, so important and powerful that there would be sufficient matter for two acts; but then they are so interdependent and the one implies the other so immediately, that it was impossible to separate them. If it is represented exactly as I intend, and if my intentions are perfectly understood, the effect must be beyond anything that has hitherto been in existence. Of course it is written only for people who can stand something (perhaps in reality for nobody). That incapable and weak persons will complain cannot in any way move me. You must decide whether everything has succeeded according to my own intentions. I cannot do it otherwise. At times, when I was timid and sobered down, I was chiefly anxious about the great scene of Wotan, especially when he discloses the decrees of Fate to BrÜnnhilde, and in London I was once on the point of rejecting the whole scene. In order to come to a decision I took up the sketch and recited the scene with proper expression, when fortunately I discovered that my spleen was unjustified, and that, if properly represented, the scene would have a grand effect even in a purely musical sense." The remainder of the drama is taken up with the development of what has been prepared. BrÜnnhilde's mind is distracted. She feels that Wotan, against his own inclinations, is about to sacrifice Siegmund to the wrath of Fricka. Presently the fleeing and guilty lovers approach. Sieglinde, overcome with shame and terrified at the prospect of Hunding's attack, sinks senseless in the arms of Siegmund. BrÜnnhilde appears, and in the beautiful scene, usually named by its German title, the "TodesverkÜndigung," announces to Siegmund his coming death. He passionately refuses to die or to go to Walhalla without But let the reader remember that the punishment inflicted on her is not solely because of her disobedience of a command, but also and chiefly because the salvation of Siegmund would have violated Wotan's oath to Fricka and thus have increased the burden of guilt already upon the conscience of this unfortunate and very human god. Again the ethical basis of the tragedy comes to the front, and the moral law, operating as Fate, demands a victim. BrÜnnhilde becomes the Sleeping Beauty, so familiar to us in the fairy tales, and waits for her prince to wake her, a prince who shall be without fear, and who shall see no terrors in the point of All-Father's dread spear. This hero will be free, "freer than I, the god," as Wotan tells us, while the majestic pealing of the young hero's motive by the orchestra reveals, what the text does not, that Siegfried will be the awakener. None of the sagas or legends in any way connect BrÜnnhilde with the fate of Siegfried's parents or the birth of the hero. Wagner's invention is here truly dramatic. He has welded separate incidents into a sequence of beautiful poetry and immense dramatic significance. In doing so he has greatly increased the splendour of the character of BrÜnnhilde. He has enlarged the aspect of her divinity, and has painted with the hand of a master the strange commingling in her of godhood and womanhood. Her sympathy with the doomed pair is wholly womanly, and it leads to her becoming entirely a woman when Wotan, in the enforcement of the demands of law, kisses the godhood from her. None of the old poems suggest such a BrÜnnhilde as Wagner's. She is a creation as distinct as Shakespeare's Juliet, as great as his Hamlet. In all dramatic literature there is no more majestic female figure than the BrÜnnhilde of "Die WalkÜre" and "Siegfried." In the final drama she diminishes in stature, by reason of the loss of her virginity. Then she is only a weak woman, except in the last scene, when she rises once more on the wings of grief to the proudest heights of self-sacrifice. And so we pass to the next drama of the trilogy, the second act of the tragedy. The story of this is simple. Few ethical questions arise. All is concerned with the acts of the free hero, working without knowledge of Wotan, while the Nibelungs vainly strive to divert the results of the action to their own benefit. Again we meet with the warring forces,—gods, giants, and dwarfs,—but the gods are passive. Wotan, disguised as a wanderer, watches the progress of events, but does not interfere in it. The first act takes place
"O Siegfried! Lordly one! Shield of the world! Life of the earth! Smiling hero!" He must be big in every way—big in the brawn of his brandished limbs, big in the bursts of his blithesome enthusiasm, and big in the beauty and bloom of his song. For Wagner, in his "Communication," tells us how, in the endeavour to discover what it was that drew him to the heart of the sagas, he drove into the deeper regions of antiquity, "where, at last, to my delight and truly in the utmost reaches of old time, I was to light upon the fair young form of Man in all the freshness of his force. My studies thus bore me through the legends of the Middle Ages right down to their foundation in the old Germanic Mythos; one swathing after another, which the later legendary lore had bound around it, I was able to unloose, and thus, at last, to gaze upon it in its chastest beauty. What here I saw was no longer the figure of conventional history, whose garment claims our interest more than does the actual shape inside, but the real, naked Man, in whom I might spy each throbbing of his pulses, each stir within his mighty muscles, in uncramped, freest motion; the type of the true human being." It was the recognition of Siegfried in his perfection, not as belittled in the "Nibelungen Lied," that made Wagner conceive him as the hero of his drama. That conception, once formed, was not lost in the subsequent development which made Wotan the real protagonist. Siegfried, in the first drama in which Thus, then, we see him in the first act of the drama,—an impulsive, discontented youth, eager for larger fields of action, moved by strange emotions which he does not comprehend, and for whose meaning he vainly questions the cunning dwarf. A sword he needs, but none which the dwarf makes will bear the force of his blow. At last he wrings from Mime the true story of his birth, and the pieces of the broken sword, which Siegmund in his hour of need christened "Nothung" ("Needful"), are produced as evidence. These shall Mime weld, declares Siegfried, and then the free youth will make his home in the wide world. But weld that particular sword, the sword which Wotan struck into the tree Branstock, is just what Mime cannot do. Wotan, in his wanderer's guise, comes to prophesy to Mime that only one who never knew fear shall accomplish the task. To him is forfeit the head which Mime has staked on answering Wotan's questions. The scene of the questions between Wotan and Mime was probably suggested to Wagner by the "Vafthrudnersmal," one of the poems of the Elder Edda, which shows Odin holding a similar conversation with the omniscient giant, Vafthrudner. Odin When Siegfried returns, Mime vainly endeavours to teach him the meaning of fear, for he would save his head. Siegfried laughs at the conception, and forthwith forges anew the broken blade of Nothung, cleaving in twain the anvil and shouting in the joy of his strength. As for Mime, he now sees that Siegfried will surely slay Fafner, of whom he has told the youth. Yet the dwarf is in terror, for if Siegfried does not learn fear from the dragon, then the dwarf dies; and if he does learn it, who is to rescue the hoard from Fafner's grasp? To the forest, then, in the second act, we follow the Siegfried attacks and slays the monster. Dying, the giant tells him to beware of Mime. Plucking his sword from the beast's heart, the youth wets his finger with the blood and cleanses it with his lips. At once he understands the language of the bird. And here we meet with one of Wagner's dramatic makeshifts, which has often been ridiculed. Before the hero understands the bird its tones are represented by the clarionet; afterward it sings German text in a soprano voice. This is Wagner's plan for conveying the language of the bird to the audience. It is awkward, but there was plainly no other way to let the hearer into the secret. One needs the help of his imagination here, and must bear ever in mind that he is listening to one of the world's fairy tales. The bird And now comes another makeshift. Mime approaches, knowing that Siegfried has slain the dragon and obtained the helm and the ring. The dwarf plans to sink the youth in sleep by a potion, slay him, and secure the treasure. But as he would prattle of his love and fidelity, he unconsciously reveals the inner workings of his mind, and to do this he has to utter them aloud. Siegfried and the audience hear them. It is clumsy, but again there seemed no other way. Siegfried slays Mime, and again lays himself down under the linden tree. The "Waldweben" is heard again, and once more the bird sings to the hero, this time to tell him that BrÜnnhilde sleeps on the fire-girt rock, where only he who knows not fear can reach her. Siegfried springs forward on the path, the bird showing him the way. The whole structure and fancy of this beautiful act are original with Wagner. The saga gave the dramatist only the facts of the slaying of the dragon and the understanding of the language of the birds, which warned the hero of the dwarf's treachery and told him of the sleeping beauty. The treatment and development in the drama are infinitely more poetic than in the original story. The third act opens with an interview, suggested by the Elder Edda, between Wotan and Erda at the foot of the Valkyr's mountain. Wotan once more consults the Wala, but she tells him naught of value. The god, now ready to resign the empire of the world and prepared for the ending of the Aesir, awaits the hero's coming. Siegfried, led by the bird, confronts him, and with the sword Nothung smites Siegfried penetrates the fire, and finds the sleeping beauty. He cuts the byrny from her bosom, as in the saga, and wakes her with a kiss. She sings her hymn to the sun and the light and the earth, and proclaims herself Siegfried's from the beginning. One last struggle for her maidenhood, and she yields herself. The union is made. The old order is done. The new race is to come and rule the world. The drama closes with a duo of passionate beauty, and we are ready for "GÖtterdÄmmerung," the last act of "Der Ring des Nibelungen." No doubt the legend of Sigurd's penetration of the flames was taken from the old story of Freyr, the sun-god, who rode through a hedge, guarded by fierce dogs, and a flame-circle within it, to win Gerda for his bride. In the later form of the legend, as told in the Elder Edda, Freyr once saw Gerda afar off and fell in love with her. He pined, and his son told Skirnir, The last drama of the series opens with a scene taken directly from the Norse mythology. On the Valkyr's rock sit the three Norns, weaving their rope of runes and peering into the events of the past, the present, and the future. For such is their vocation. They are the Fates of older legend. In the Scandinavian mythology they were called Urd, who looked into the past; Verdandi, who surveyed the present, and Skuld, the youngest, who gazed into the future. Wagner does not use the names, nor does he discriminate in the occupations of the three. Indeed, the scene has no close dramatic relation to the drama about to be enacted, but is rather a pictorial and musical mood tableau, designed to fill the mind of the auditor with portents. In the narrative of the first Norn we hear how Wotan lost his eye, selling it for a draught from the fountain of knowledge, and how he broke a limb from the great ash Yggdrasil itself to fashion his spear. These are incidents in the old mythology. The ash tree was watered daily from Urd's fountain, and it could not wither till the last From the stories of the other Norns we learn that as soon as Siegfried had broken Wotan's spear the god summoned his heroes to the world's ash tree and cut it down. From it were hewn fagots, and these were piled high in Walhalla. Wotan and the heroes sit in state, waiting for the flames which shall consume their abode. The dusk of the gods is at hand. While the Norns are trying to fathom the outcome of the curse on the ring, their rope breaks. With frightened cries they sink into the earth, declaring that the world shall no more hear their wisdom. Siegfried and BrÜnnhilde, in the dawn of the new day, come forth from their cavern home. The young hero has matured into a man. He is clad in BrÜnnhilde's armor and wears her cloak. How long they were together on the mountain no one knows. It was long enough for the youth to become a man, and to learn all BrÜnnhilde's wisdom. She is sending him forth to new exploits, fearing only that she may not hold his heart in absence. She has taught him all her runes, and surrendered to him her maidenhood's strength. What these runes were we can learn from the Lay of Sigdrifa in the Elder Edda, but they have no bearing upon the story of Wagner. The statement that BrÜnnhilde has lost her maiden strength is of importance, for it helps to explain why Siegfried is afterward able to snatch the ring from her. With her maidenhood, departed the last vestige of her divinity, her strength. Henceforth she is all woman. The decree of Wotan is fulfilled. She says:
Siegfried gives her the ring with a casual and insignificant remark that he owes all his strength to it. BrÜnnhilde gives him her steed, Grani, which has lost its magic powers together with her. Compare this with the saga story of Sigurd's choice of a horse. The hero now sets forth, and as the scene changes we hear his horn echoing down the Rhine valley, and the orchestra paints his journey. The second scene shows us the interior of the home of Gunther, the son of Gibich, who is seated at a table with his sister, Gutrune, and his half-brother, Hagen. Gunther is the Gunnar of the saga, but Wagner uses the name from the "Nibelungen Lied" because it is German. The name of Gibich is obtained from the "Lex Burgundionum" of Gundohar, a Burgundian king of the fifth century, who in it names, as one of his ancestors, Gibica. The word is derived from the same root as Giuki, the name used in the Volsunga Saga. Wagner gets the character of Gunther from the "Nibelungen Lied," where he is represented as a weak person, usually under the influence of others. Gutrune is the Gudrun of the saga, the daughter of Grimhild, who employs magic to win Siegfried for her child's spouse. In the "Nibelungen Lied" Chriemhild is Gutrune; the two personages have been moulded into one and the magic eliminated. Wagner, as we shall see, identifies the characters of This idea was essential to his plan of making Hagen appear in the drama as the son of Alberich. It does not consist with Wotan's statement that the Nibelung had won a woman with gold, but that discrepancy is unimportant. The point is that Gunther's half-brother is a Nibelung, and has been entrusted by his father with the task of bringing about the downfall of Siegfried. Wagner has developed the character of Hagen according to this idea, and not according to the original sources. In the Thidrek Saga and the "Nibelungen Lied" Hagen is represented as a crafty villain, while in the Volsunga Saga he is of noble nature and will have naught to do with the plot against Siegfried. In the other two poems he has no motive but malice, while Wagner raises the character to a high tragic plane by giving Hagen the purpose of the Nibelungs' revenge. The second scene opens, then, with Hagen telling Gunther that he is too long unwed, and that there sleeps on a mountain surrounded by fire the woman who should be his bride. But she is to be reached only by him who never knew fear. This leads to a narration of the exploits of Siegfried, suggested by the narrative of Hagen in the "Nibelungen Lied," when he sees Siegfried approaching the Court of Gunther. Neither Gunther nor Gutrune learns what Hagen has Siegfried now falls in with Hagen's plan. He agrees to go through the fire and get BrÜnnhilde for Gunther, provided he, in return for the service, receives the hand of Gutrune. There is no talk of a futile attempt on the part of Gunther to penetrate the flames. Siegfried and Gunther swear blood-brotherhood, and the two start for the Valkyr's rock, where, with the help of the Tarnhelm, they are to exchange
This is why Waltraute has come. Wotan dare not act, does not dream of doing so; for the atonement must be the work of a free agent. But a Valkyr is a wish-maiden, Wotan's will, and so Waltraute, like BrÜnnhilde in "Die WalkÜre," strives to realise her father's wish. Will BrÜnnhilde give back the ring? But BrÜnnhilde is no more a virgin Valkyr, a mere daughter of the gods. She is a beloved and loving woman. The ring is Siegfried's bridal gift. Perish The second act brings us back to the castle of Gunther arrives with BrÜnnhilde, and she, seeing Siegfried there with Gutrune, at once suspects treachery. She perceives the ring on Siegfried's finger, and demands an explanation as to how he came by the circlet which Gunther had wrenched from her hand the previous night. This episode of the ring is entirely different, as the reader will note, from those of the Volsunga Saga and the "Nibelungen Lied." But it had to be so, because Wagner had already omitted the incident which, in the sources of his story, led to Siegfried's presenting the ring to his wife. BrÜnnhilde's questions about the ring evoke no satisfactory "Siegfried charges her with shamelessness: faithful had he been to this blood brothership,—his sword he laid between BrÜnnhilde and himself:—he calls on her to bear him witness. Purposely, and thinking only of his ruin, she will not understand him." In a speech of double meaning, she declares that the sword hung in its scabbard on the wall on the night when its master gained him a true love. Siegfried swears to his truth on the point of Hagen's spear, calling upon it to pierce him if he is false. This is a purely theatric touch. This spear does pierce him, yet was he not false. BrÜnnhilde swears upon the same spear that Siegfried has committed perjury. Thereupon Siegfried lightly says that she is daft, and bids the guests to let the festivities proceed. BrÜnnhilde The last act shows the Rhine maidens sporting on the surface of the water in a little cove of the river. Siegfried, hunting and strayed from his party, appears on the rocks above them. They beg him to return the ring, and he is almost on the point of doing so when they warn him of its curse. He refuses to be scared into parting with it. This meeting with the Rhine maidens is not found in any of the old stories, because the ring which causes the trouble in "GÖtterdÄmmerung" is not in any way associated in the legends with the end of the gods. In both the Thidrek Saga and the "Nibelungen Lied," Hagen is warned of an evil by mermaids, and this may barely have suggested this scene, which so accentuates the immediately succeeding tragedy of Siegfried's death. The hunting party arrives, and to cheer the gloomy Gunther Siegfried volunteers to tell the story of his youth. All this is original with Wagner. The hero narrates the incidents of the drama "Siegfried" to a wonderful epitome of its music, up to the slaying of Mime. Then Hagen administers an antidote to the drink of forgetfulness, and the hero reveals his discovery of BrÜnnhilde. Gunther is shocked as he After informing Gutrune that she was never the real wife of Siegfried, BrÜnnhilde sums up the dÉnouement of the entire tragedy in a speech which must be carefully read by anyone desiring thoroughly to understand Wagner's design. She perceives the whole of Wotan's plan, and upbraids him for throwing on a guiltless man the curse of his own crime. Let the ravens tell Wotan that his plan is accomplished. And let the weary god have rest. She takes the ring from Siegfried's finger, and places it upon her own. When she is burned with him on the funeral pyre, the Rhine maidens may get the ring again. And now fly home, ravens. Pass by the Valkyr's rock and bid the flickering Loge once more visit Walhalla, for the dusk of the gods is at hand, and with this torch will the bride of Siegfried fire the towers of Asgard. Then she addresses the wondering retainers So ends the tragedy. Nothing in the final scenes closely resembles the original legends except the burning of Walhalla. In the legends the gods are destroyed in battle with the powers of evil. Here they die in solemn atonement for sin. And their punishment, which is their release, is accomplished by the voluntary sacrifice of a woman through love. BrÜnnhilde, wiser in the end than Wotan himself, perfects and completes his plan. The death of the hero, innocent and unoffending, was not enough. The intentional sacrifice, hallowed by love, accomplishes what all Wotan's schemes failed to achieve. The ethical plot of the drama is finished. "The eternal feminine leadeth us upward and on." This glorious BrÜnnhilde of Wagner is a grander figure than any conceived by the sagamen. Dimly, indeed, may her sacrifice be connected with the death of Nanna, the wife of Baldur, the bright one, who could not outlive her husband. But that death was merely from a broken heart. This one is a magnificent atonement. Baldur's horse, fully caparisoned, was led to his III.—The Music of the TrilogyIn "Der Ring des Nibelungen" the leitmotiv system is found at its best. In this gigantic and complex drama it provides a musical aid to an understanding of the intent of the dramatist. It is a running commentary on the action, a ceaseless revealer of inner thoughts and motives. And, owing to the development of plot and character, the musical device of thematic development is employed with admirable effect in this work. Unfortunately for the credit of Wagner, the typical handbook of these dramas, and the fashionable "Wagner Lecture," which consists of telling the story and playing the principal motives on a piano, have gone far to convey wholly erroneous ideas of this unique musical system. The hearer of the lecture and the reader of the handbook are led to suppose that the score consists of a string of disconnected phrases, arbitrarily formed and capriciously titled, and that this is the whole result of the system. The truth is that the score becomes symphonic in On the other hand, none of this study is essential to a mere enjoyment of these dramas. For that, only a perfect comprehension of the text is necessary; if you know what the characters are saying and doing, the music will do its own work. It will create the right mood for you, though you do not know the name of a single leading theme. But the thematic system is there, and to understand it will add enormously to your intellectual and artistic pleasure and give Wagner a far higher position in your estimation than he would otherwise occupy. Only, if you intend to study it, do not treat it as if it were nothing more than a thematic catalogue. What I am about to put before the reader cannot claim to be more than some pertinent hints. Let the reader refer to the classification of motives given in Chapter III. of "The Artistic Aims of Wagner" (page 193), and apply it to the themes now to be considered. He will find in these scores all the classes there enumerated and will note that they are used and developed with extraordinary skill. After the preliminary measures of the introduction to "Das Rheingold," we hear the first guiding theme of the drama, the motive of the Primeval Elements: music PRIMEVAL ELEMENTS. This motive plays an important part in the trilogy. When Erda rises from the earth in the last scene of the prologue we hear this same theme in the minor mode, and we at once perceive that by this simple process of musical development Wagner associates her with the primeval elements (earth, air, and water), but emphasises the sadness of her character and her peculiar office in the tragedy as a prophetess of woe. When she utters the words, "Ein dÜst'rer Tag dÄmmert den GÖttern" ("A dismal day dawns for the Aesir"), we hear her motive first in its natural form, and then inverted, and we then learn that this inversion has an especial meaning, the end of the gods, the "GÖtterdÄmmerung": music A—ERDA. B—GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG. Now let us turn to the scene in which Waltraute comes to tell BrÜnnhilde how Wotan has had the ash cut down, hewn into faggots, and assembled the gods to wait for the end. In the accompaniment to her words appears the Erda theme, originally that of the Primeval Elements which surrounded the Rhinegold, transformed into a stately progression of octaves. Presently over these we hear the Walhalla theme, and then the octaves descend in a new development of the "GÖtterdÄmmerung" theme: music music WALTRAUTE.
Turn next to the last scene of all, to the entrance of BrÜnnhilde. We find that the music is this: music BrÜnnhilde has come to fulfil the prophecy of Erda; the dusk of the gods is at hand. And so when she commands the retainers to erect the funeral pyre, which is kindled at Walhalla, we hear once again the "GÖtterdÄmmerung" theme as it was introduced to us in the Waltraute scene: music This is an excellent demonstration of the leitmotiv system in its fullest expansion, and it should warn the reader against accepting these themes as merely arbitrary labels. Let him always seek for their musical philosophy and their relations to one another. When the Rhine maidens appear swimming around the rock in which lies the gold, they sing these cabalistic words and this melodious music: music RHINE DAUGHTERS.
Presently, as narrated in the story, the gold discloses itself, and we hear the ascending theme of the Appearing Gold: music THE APPEARING GOLD. But when the maidens burst into song in its praise, they sing this: music THE GLEAMING GOLD. Rheingold! Rheingold! Leuchtende Lust, wie lachst du so hell und hehr! The first measures of this melody are employed throughout the drama to signify the gold. Examination will show that the words "Rheingold! Rheingold!" are sung to precisely the same melodic form as "Weia" at the beginning and the end of the phrase quoted from the Rhine daughters' music. Here, again, we see how Wagner persists in preserving the musical associations of allied themes, and of deriving one from the other in the symphonic style. In the last act of "GÖtterdÄmmerung," when the maidens warn Siegfried of coming evil, they sing his name to the Rhinegold theme in the minor mode. The significance of this is unmistakable. At the first mention of the ring, we hear the Ring theme: music THE RING. This theme is subjected to so many developments that they cannot be enumerated in a work of this kind. A single glance, however, will show the reader how closely related it is to the "GÖtterdÄmmerung" motive. In certain passages, as in the scene between BrÜnnhilde and the disguised Siegfried in "GÖtterdÄmmerung" this theme and the Walhalla theme are combined, by an ingenious use of the rhythm and melodic sequence of the one with the melody and music RENUNCIATION.
music WALHALLA. music COMPACT. music GIANTS. The Renunciation theme is employed throughout the tragedy to signify renunciation without regard to its original connection with the ring. The Walhalla motive indicates not only the place, but the origin of persons who come thence. In this sense it is sometimes applied to BrÜnnhilde, as well as to Wotan. The next theme of significance is that of the Tarnhelm (see page 195). Here, again, we meet with a theme for which there is a companion closely associated with it in form and in the action of the drama. This is the theme of Forgetfulness, heard in "GÖtterdÄmmerung" when Siegfried takes the drink offered him by Gutrune. The close relationship in the meaning of music FORGETFULNESS. GIBICHUNG. SIEGFRIED. The meaning is clear, and the kinship of the Forgetfulness and Tarnhelm themes unmistakable. Siegfried uses the Tarnhelm but this once in the whole tragedy, and uses it because of the forgetfulness and in the guise of a Gibichung. When Freia has been carried off by the giants to music DEPARTING DIVINITY. Now turn to the last scene of "Die WalkÜre," and when Wotan tells BrÜnnhilde that he will plunge her into unbreaking sleep we hear this same motive in this form: music The theme is heard again in its fullest harmonies when the god kisses her eyes and she sinks to sleep. Here, again, Wagner uses uncertainty of tonality to produce an effect of mystery in his music. At the entrance of Loge we hear another important motive, that of the fire-god: music LOGE. From this is developed the magic fire music of "Die WalkÜre," and the theme is heard frequently throughout the trilogy. Sometimes it ascends, and again it descends, and at times it becomes purely melodic in the diatonic scale and the major mode, but it never loses its flickering, wavering character. When Wotan and Loge descend into Nibelheim, we hear the important theme of the Nibelungs, the smiths: music NIBELUNG SMITHS. This is heard very often in the tragedy, and always signifies the Nibelung race. Alberich's appearance, driving before him the Nibelungs, who have become his slaves through the power of the ring, introduces the theme of Alberich's mastery: music ALBERICH, MASTER OF THE NIBELUNGS. As it was the Rhinegold which made him lord of the Nibelungs, the theme is compounded of the Rhinegold motive and that of the Nibelungs, the latter being brought to a firm and definite close with a major chord. With the entrance of the dwarfs carrying the gold, we hear the theme of the Hoard: music THE HOARD. The Dragon motive appears when Alberich transforms himself for the first time: music THE DRAGON. This theme is employed again in "Siegfried" for the transformed "Fafner." The motive of the Nibelung's Hate is used very often in "Siegfried" and "GÖtterdÄmmerung," as well as in the prologue: music THE NIBELUNG’S HATE. The instrumentation of this theme, the lower part being given to strings and the upper to clarinets, is especially expressive. It has a snarl and a sneer. The next important theme introduced in the prologue is that of the Curse: music THE CURSE.
This is heard when Fafner kills Fasolt, and throughout the drama at points where the curse is especially significant, as at the death of Siegfried. The Sword theme (see page 195) appears when Wotan conceives his plan. I have not given the minor themes, which are heard only in the "Vorabend," such as those of Fricka, Froh, and Freia. Donner's theme is of little import, being heard again only in the storm music in "WalkÜre." There is a long list of minor themes, but their significance can always be learned from the text. In "Die WalkÜre" a number of significant motives not heard in the prologue are brought forward. The first of these indicates the gentle and sympathetic personality of Sieglinde: music SIEGLINDE’S SYMPATHY. Next comes the Love motive, a melody of some length, written for celli, and full of feeling: music LOVE. These two motives belong particularly to this drama; they do not figure in the other works. In the first music SORROW OF THE VOLSUNGS. music THE VOLSUNG RACE. The reappearance of the Sword motive (see page 195) in this act should be noted for its pregnant meaning. Siegmund calls upon his father and says, "Where is the promised sword?" The firelight at this instant strikes the hilt of the sword in the tree, and the orchestra gives out the Sword theme with almost startling effect. It would be superfluous to trace the manifold treatment of the various melodic fragments through the score. The hearer of the works cannot fail to become acquainted with their import. The motive of the Volsung race is especially touching in its noble dignity and melancholy. It epitomises in a fragment of music the nature and suffering of the unhappy music THE VALKYR’S CALL. music THE VALKYRS. The second of these is afterward used whenever the nature of the Valkyr is of significance in the drama. The theme, it will be noted, is designed rhythmically to suggest the motion of the Valkyr steed. When Fricka imposes upon Wotan the oath to honour her rights, we hear the theme of Wotan's Wrath, a wrath in which there is a deep note of pathos: music WOTAN’S WRATH. When Wotan informs BrÜnnhilde that only a free hero can make the atonement, we hear this theme beautifully combined with the Erda theme and a suggestion of the "GÖtterdÄmmerung" motive: music Wotan.
It is by such wonderful combinations of the guiding themes that the scores of these dramas become so rich in variety, beauty, and meaning. The significance of this passage is clear and eloquent. The plan must fail and the dusk of the gods must come. The phrase marked A is usually designated the theme of the "Gods' Stress." It is plainly, however, the Erda theme and a variant of the "GÖtterdÄmmerung." When Siegmund sits on the rock with Sieglinde fainting in his arms, we hear for the first time the motive of Fate, often used afterward: music FATE. The treatment of the "TodesverkÜndigung" is free, the theme being heard only in that scene. Motives already made known form the warp of the score to the end of the act, and the third act opens with the familiar "Ride of the Valkyrs" built on the Valkyr's Call and the Valkyr theme. When BrÜnnhilde informs Sieglinde that she is to be the mother of the "highest hero of worlds," we hear for the first time the magnificent Siegfried theme, which is to play such an important part in the remainder of the tragedy: music And in response to this announcement Sieglinde sings thus: music
This theme is heard again at the close of the last scene of "GÖtterdÄmmerung," and there we instantly recognise its significance as an embodiment of the glorious divinity of BrÜnnhilde, the divinity of ideal womanhood, ennobled by love and sanctified by sacrifice. Another significant motive heard in this scene is that of Slumber: music SLUMBER. This, with the Fire and Siegfried themes, forms the magnificent closing passage of this drama. The melody of Wotan's farewell, though it can hardly be described as a leitmotiv, reappears with beautiful effect in Waltraute's narrative, when she tells of Wotan's sadness. In "Siegfried" we meet with a score which contains a great amount of freely composed music. There is so much that is external and incidental in this work that the constant employment of guiding themes was unnecessary. The result is that we enter an atmosphere of buoyant, jubilant out-door life, full of the vigour and sweetness of spring and young manhood. The whole of the scene of the forging of the sword is sung in music aglow with the flame of the forge, alive with the rhythm of the bellows and the hammer. The forest scene gives us the bird music and the "Waldweben," freely written, the latter a mood picture, using only the Volsung theme as a reminder. Wotan's splendid summons to Erda is free music, and in the matchless scene of the awakening we hear much that is new and belongs only to "Siegfried." The first of the important new themes is that intoned by the young hero's horn. It is the theme of Siegfried, the buoyant, fearless, militant youth: music SIEGFRIED, THE YOUTH. Out of this theme and that of the Sword, the melodies and rhythms being combined perfectly, is made the brilliant motive of Siegfried, the hero who welds and wields the sword: music SIEGFRIED, THE SWORD WIELDER. This is heard often in the early part of the work. Wotan, disguised as a wanderer, is indicated by a theme without tonality, which, therefore, belongs to the same class as the Tarnhelm and Departing Divinity motives: music WOTAN, THE WANDERER. In the second act, while Siegfried is alone in the forest, is heard this beautiful and significant theme: music music YEARNING FOR LOVE. After this, till the first scene of the third act, the listener will not hear any motive of high import. All is either free music or the employment of themes whose significance has been previously made known. But in the opening of the last act appears the splendid melody of the Heritage of the World, which is used to embody the readiness of Wotan to resign himself to his approaching fate and to hand over his kingdom to the new race: music THE WORLD’S HERITAGE. Wonderful, too, are the strains which accompany the arrival of Siegfried at the top of the Valkyr's mountain, but most wonderful is the music of BrÜnnhilde's Awakening: music music BRÜNNHILDE’S AWAKENING. This is only a fragment of it, but it contains the pregnant phrase of marvellous beauty which returns with such agonising eloquence in the final speeches of the dying Siegfried in "GÖtterdÄmmerung." When the Valkyr maid is awake and has recognised Siegfried, their voices unite in the passionate measure of a duet, founded on the motive of Love's Greeting: music LOVE’S GREETING. In "GÖtterdÄmmerung," when Siegfried raises the drink of forgetfulness to his lips, he drinks to the memory of BrÜnnhilde and intones the words to this very theme. That is one of Wagner's most poignant strokes of musical pathos. The drama of "Siegfried" comes to its end with a sweep of overmastering passion. The themes are peculiar to this work, but most of them are heard in the lovely "Siegfried Idyl," so often played in concert. "GÖtterdÄmmerung" opens with a repetition of known themes in the Norn scene. In the second scene we meet with two new ideas, the themes of BrÜnnhilde, the woman, and Siegfried, the mature hero: music BRÜNNHILDE, THE WOMAN. music SIEGFRIED, THE MAN. The first of these expresses very beautifully the loving, clinging nature of the transformed Valkyr. The second is a thematic development of the motive of Siegfried, the youth. The change is chiefly one of rhythm. Siegfried, the youth, is depicted musically in six-eighth measure, a rhythm buoyant and piquant. For Siegfried, the mature hero, the melodic sequence is preserved, but the rhythm is changed to a dual one. The change is one founded on the nature of music, for the dual rhythm is firm, square, and solid. The injection of minor harmony at the end is heard in the first announcement of this theme and serves to indicate approaching sorrow. This motive rises to its grandest development in the funeral march after Siegfried's death, when the orchestra passes in review, in a composition of wonderful beauty and power, the themes most closely associated with him. This theme forms the climax of the march and is pealed forth by the brass in this form: music Two other new themes heard in "GÖtterdÄmmerung" are worthy of note. They are that of Gutrune and that of BrÜnnhilde's Despair, the former appearing in the third scene of the first act and the latter in the second act: music music BRÜNNHILDE’S DESPAIR. There are also themes for Gunther, the Gibichung (already quoted), and for Hagen. But "GÖtterdÄmmerung" is most wonderful, musically, for the manner in which the themes of the earlier dramas are repeated in it. The expressiveness of the system is nowhere more forcibly illustrated than in the hero's narrative of his youthful days, when the most significant themes of "Siegfried" pass before us, bringing the whole story back in all its vitality. And in the death of the hero and the wonderful apostrophe of BrÜnnhilde again we find that the recapitulation or development of familiar themes knits for us the substance of the long tragedy into a perfect texture of poetry. And with the use of the many-voiced orchestra Wagner Thus the orchestra becomes an actor in the drama, continually commenting on the passing action, revealing to us the hidden well-springs of emotion, explaining thoughts to us and flooding the whole drama with the light of its eloquence. Not by the mere cataloguing then of these themes are we to arrive at a full understanding of the composer's intent, but by a careful study of their repetitions and developments. The knowledge thus gained will add immeasurably to the intellectual pleasure of the hearer; but, as I have already said, Wagner's music makes the right mood pictures even for him who does not know the guiding themes. And that is one of the most satisfying proofs of his greatness. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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