TWILIGHT OF THE GODS: Prelude

The curtain rises slowly. The scene is the same as at the close of the second day, on the Valkyries' rock; night. In the background, from below, firelight shines. The three Norns, tall women in long, dark, veil-like drapery. The first (eldest) lies in the foreground, to the right, under the spreading pine-tree; the second (younger) is stretched on a shelving rock in front of the cave; the third (youngest) fits in the centre at the back on a rock near the peak. Motionless, gloomy silence. The First Norn What light glimmers there? The Second Norn Is it already dawn? The Third Norn Loge's host Glows in flame around the rock. It is night. Why spin we not, singing the while? [To the first.] Where for our spinning and singing Wilt thou fasten the rope? [While she loosens a golden ropes from herself and ties one end of it to a branch of the pine-tree.] I sing and wind the rope Badly or well, as may be. At the world-ash-tree Once I wove, When from the stem There bourgeoned strong The boughs of a sacred wood. In the shadows cool A fountain flowed; Wisdom whispered Low from its wave; Of holy things I sang. A dauntless God Came to drink at the well; For the draught he drank He paid with the loss of an eye. From the world-ash-tree Wotan broke a holy bough; From the bough he cut And shaped the shaft of a spear. As time rolled on the wood Wasted and died of the wound; Sere, leafless and barren, Wan withered the tree; Sadly the flow Of the fountain failed; Troubled grew My sorrowful song. And now no more At the world-ash-tree I weave; I needs must fasten Here on the pine-tree my rope. Sing, O sister-- Catch as I throw-- Canst thou tell us why? [Winds the rope thrown to her round a projecting rock at the entrance of the cave.] Runes of treaties Well weighed and pondered Cut were by Wotan In the shaft, Which wielding, he swayed the world. A hero bold In fight then splintered the spear, The hallowed haft With its treaties cleaving in twain. Then bade Wotan Walhall's heroes Hew down the world-ash-tree Forthwith, Both the stem and boughs sere and barren. The ash-tree sank; Sealed was the fountain that flowed. Round the sharp edge Of the rock I wind the rope Sing, O sister, Catch as I throw; Further canst thou tell? [Catching the rope and throwing the end behind her.] The castle stands By giants upreared. With the Gods and the holy Host of the heroes Wotan sits in his hall; And round the walls Hewn logs are heaped, High up-piled, Ready for burning: The world-ash-tree these were once. When the wood Flares up brightly and burns, In its fire Shall the fair hall be consumed. And then shall the high Gods' downfall Dawn in darkness for aye. Know ye yet more, Begin anew winding the rope; Again I throw it Back from the north. Spin and sing, O my sister. [She throws the rope to the second Norn, and the second throws it to the first, who loosens the rope from the bough and ties it on to another.] [Looking towards the back.] Is it the dawn, Or the firelight that flickers? Grief-darkened is my gaze. The holy past I can scarce remember, When Loge burst Of old into burning fire. Dost thou know how he fared? [Winding the rope which has been thrown to her round the rock again.] Overcome by Wotan's Spear and its magic, Loge worked for the God Then, to win his freedom Gnawed with his tooth The solemn runes on the shaft. So with the potent Spell of the spear-point Wotan confined him Flaming where Brünnhilde slumbered. Canst thou tell us the end? With the broken spear's Sharp-piercing splinters Wotan wounded The blazing one deep in the breast; Ravening fire Springs from the wound, And this is thrown 'Mid the world-ash-tree's Hewn logs heaped ready for burning. Would ye know When that will be, Wind, O sisters, the rope! [She throws the rope back; the second Norn winds it up and throws it again to the first.] [Fastening the rope again.] The night wanes, Dark grows my vision; I cannot find The threads of the rope; The strands are twisted and loose. A horrible sight Wildly vexes mine eyes: The Rhinegold That black Alberich stole. Knowest thou more thereof? [With laborious haste winds the rope round the jagged rock at the mouth of the cave.] The rock's sharp edge Is cutting the rope; The threads loosen Their hold and grow slack; They droop tangled and frayed. From woe and wrath Rises the Nibelung's ring A curse of revenge Ruthlessly gnaws at the strands:-- Canst thou the end foretell? [Hastily catching the rope which is thrown to her.] The rope is too short, Too loose it hangs; It must be stretched, Pulled straighter, before Its end can reach to the north! [She pulls hard at the rope, which breaks.] It breaks! [They take the pieces of broken rope and bind their bodies together with them.] The Three Norns So ends wisdom eternal! The wise ones Will utter no more. Descend to Erda! Descend! [They vanish. The dawn grows brighter; the firelight from the valley gradually fades. Sunrise; then broad daylight.] [Siegfried and Brünnhilde enter from the cave. He is fully armed; she leads her horse by the bridle.] Brünnhilde Belovèd hero, Poor my love were Wert thou thereby Kept from new deeds. One single doubt Yet makes me linger: The fear my service Has been too small. The things the Gods taught me I could give: All the rich hoard Of holy runes; But by the hero Who holds my heart I have been robbed Of my maiden valour. In wisdom weak, Although strong in will; In love so rich, In power so poor-- Must thou not scorn Her lack of riches Who, though so eager, Can give nothing more? Siegfried Wonderful woman, more Thy gifts than I can guard! O chide not if thy teaching Has left me still untaught. [With fire.] That Brünnhilde lives for me-- To that lore I hold fast; And one lesson I have learned-- Brünnhilde to remember! If thou wouldst truly love me, Think of thyself alone, And of thy deeds of daring! The raging fire remember That fearless thou didst fare through When around the rock it burned-- That I might conquer Brünnhild'! Think too of the shield-hidden maid Thou didst find there lapped in slumber, And whose helmet hard thou didst break-- Brünnhilde to awaken! Those oaths remember That unite us; The faith and truth That are between us, And evermore The love we live for; Brünnhilde in thy breast Will deeply bum then for aye! [She embraces Siegfried.] Must I leave thee, O love, In thy holy fortress of fire, [He has taken Alberich's ring from his finger, and holds it out to Brünnhilde.] This ring of mine I give thee; Let it pay for thy runes. Of whatever deeds I did The virtue lies therein. By my hand was the dragon grim, Who long had guarded it, slain; Keep thou the gold and its might As token true of my love! [Putting on the ring in rapturous delight.] I covet it more than all else! For the ring take Grane, my horse. Through the air with me He galloped once boldly, But lost with mine Was his magic art; Upon clouds and storm, Through thunder and lightning No more Gallantly now will he sweep! But if thou lead the way, Even through fire Fearlessly Grane will follow. For henceforth, hero, Thou art his master! Entreat him well; He knows thy voice; O, greet him often In Brünnhilde's name! Then every deed that I dare Will be achieved through thy virtue; All my battles thou wilt choose, And my victories will be thine. Upon thy good horse riding, And sheltered by thy shield, No longer Siegfried am I, But only Brünnhilde's arm O were but Brünnhilde thy soul too! Through her my courage burns high. Then wert thou Siegfried and Brünnhild'. Where I am, there thy abode is. [With animation.] Then a waste is my hall of rock? Made one, both there abide. [Greatly moved.] Ye Gods, O ye holy Race of immortals, Feast ye your eyes On this love-hallowed pair! Apart--who shall divide us? Divided--still we are one! Hail, O Brünnhilde, Beautiful star! Hail, love and its glory! Hail, O Siegfried, Conquering light! Hail, life and its glory! Hail, conquering light! Both Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! [Siegfried leads the horse quickly to the edge of the sloping rock, Brünnhilde following him. Siegfried disappears with the horse down behind the projecting rock, so that he is no longer visible to the audience. Brünnhilde is thus suddenly left standing alone on the edge of the slope, and gazes down into the valley after Siegfried. Her gestures show that Siegfried has vanished from her sight. Siegfried's horn is heard from below. Brünnhilde listens, and steps further out on the slope. She catches sight of Siegfried in the valley again, and waves to him joyfully. Her happy smiles seem to reflect the air of the merrily departing hero.]