der ring des nibelungen - Fantasy Castle Books

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FRICKA (hurrying anxiously to Wotan). Sound will thy tidings sweetly? LOGE (pointing to the hoard). Of trick and of force the fruit we took, and won what Freia wants. DONNER. From the giants' hold joys she to hasten. FROH. With freshening breath filled is my face; sweetness of sunlight into me sinks! Our hearts were wistful as women's while here we waited for her, who only yields us the bliss of endlessly blossoming youth. (The foreground has again become bright; the gods' appearance regains in the light its former freshness; over the background, however, the mist still hangs, so that the distant castle remains invisible.) (Fasolt and Fafner approach, leading Freia between them.) FRICKA (rushes joyously towards her sister to embrace her). Loveliest sister, sweetest delight! Bind me again to thy bosom! FASOLT (forbidding her) Stay! Let her alone! Still she all is ours. At Riesenheim's towering rim rested we two; in blameless plight the bargain's pledge we held for pay; though grief it prove, again we give her, if whole and ready the ransom's here. WOTAN. At hand lies it ready; in friendly mood may it fairly be measured! FASOLT. To leave the woman, lightly will lead me to woe; so that she wane from my senses, must the hoard we take heighten its top, till from my gaze her flowering face it shall guard! WOTAN. At Freia's height the heap shall be fixed. (Fafner and Fasolt stick their stakes in front of Freia into the ground, in such manner that they include the same height and breadth as her figure.) FAFNER. The poles we have set to the pledge's size; the hoard must hide her from sight. WOTAN. Hurry the work; hateful I hold it! LOGE. FROH. Help me, Froh ! Freia's harm haste I to finish. (Loge and Froh quickly heap the treasure between the stakes.) FAFNER. Not so light and loose it must look; fast and firm let it be found! (With rude force he presses the treasure close together; he stoops down to search for spaces.) LOGE. A gap I behold; the holes are forgotten! Withhold, thou lubber! Lift not a hand! FAFNER. But look! A cleft to be closed! WOTAN (fuming away in disgust). Right to my heart hisses the wrong. FRICKA (with her eyes fixed on Freia). See how in shame she shyly and sweetly shrinks; to be loosed she lifts wordless woe in her look. O harmful man! So much at thy hand she has met! FAFNER. Still more I miss! DONNER. Beside myself makes me the wrath roused by the mannerless rogue! Behold, thou hound! Must thou measure, thy size thou shalt settle with me! Fricka (anxiously to WOTAN). Bring'st thou joyful tidings? Loge (pointing to the hoard). By cunning and force the task is done: there Freia's ransom lies. Donner. Froh. From the giant's hold neareth the fair one. What balmiest air wafteth to us, blissful enchantment fills every sense! Sad, in sooth, were our fortune, for ever sundered from her, who painless, ne'er-ending youth and rapturous joy doth bestow. The foreground has become bright again and the aspect of the gods regains in the light its former freshness. The misty veil, however, still covers the background so that the distant castle remains invisible. FASOLT and FAFNER enter, leading FREIA between them. Fricka (hastens joyfully towards her sister). Loveliest sister, sweetest delight! Art thou to us once more given? Fasolt (restraining her). Hold! Touch her not yet! Still we claim her ours. — On Riesenheim's fastness of rock took we our rest; in truth and honour the treaty's pledge tended we. Though sorely loth, to you I bring her; now pay us brothers the ransom here. Wotan. Fasolt. Wotan. At hand lies the ransom: in goodly measure the gold shall be meted. To lose the woman, know ye, my spirit is sore: if from my heart I must tear her, the treasure hoard heap ye then so that from my sight the blossoming maid it may hide! By Freia's form, then, measure the gold! The two giants place FREIA in the middle. They then stick their staves into the ground in front of FREIA, so that they give the measure of her height and breadth. Fafner. Wotan. Loge. Froh. Fast fixed are our poles there to frame her form; now heap the hoard to their height! Haste with the work: sorely it irks me! Help me Froh! Freia's shame straight must be ended. (LOGE and FROH hastily heap up the treasure between the poles.) Fafner. Not so loosely piled be the gold. Firm and close fill up the gauge! He roughly presses the treasure together. He stoops down to look for crevices. Loge. Fafner. Here still I see through: come, stop me these crannies! Away, thou rude one! touch thou not aught! Look here! this cleft must be closed! Wotan (turning away moodily). Deep in my breast burns this disgrace! Fricka. Fafner. Donner. See how in shame standeth the glorious maid: for release beseeches her suffering look. Heartless man ! Our loveliest bears this through thee! Pile on still more! I bear no more; foaming rage wakens the rogue in my breast! Come hither, hound! Wouldst thou measure, then take thy measure with me! Fricka, Donner, and Froh hasten to welcome the returning gods. The approach of Freia, whom the giants are bringing between them, is felt before she appears, in a subtle sweetening of the air, a simultaneous lightening of all the hearts and return of youth to the faces, which Froh's daintily expansive greeting describes. Fricka is hurrying toward her. Fasolt interposes: Not to be touched! She still belongs to them until the ransom have been paid. Fasolt does not fall in willingly with the arrangement which shall give them the gold in place of the woman; he has been overpersuaded by the black brother; his regret at losing Freia is so great, he tells the gods, that the treasure, if she is to be relinquished, will have to be piled so high as completely to hide the blooming maid. "Let it be measured according to Freia's stature!" decrees Wotan, and the giants drive their great staves into the earth so that they roughly frame the figure of Freia. Helped by Loge and Froh, they begin stopping the space between with the treasure. Wotan's fastidiousness cannot endure the visible sordid details of his bargain; he turns from the sight of the incarnate rose, as she stands drooping in a noble shame, to be valued against so much gold. "Hasten with the work!" he bids them, "it sorely goes against me!" When Fafner's rough greed orders the measure to be more solidly pressed down, and he ducks spying for crevices still to be stopped with gold, Wotan turns away, soul-sick: "Humiliation burns deep in my breast!" The Hort is exhausted, when Fafner looking for crannies exclaims, "I can still see the shining of her hair," and demands, to shut it from view, the Tarnhelm which Loge has attempted to retain. "Let it go!" commands Wotan, when Loge hesitates. The affair, it now would seem, must be closed; but Fasolt, in his grief over the loss of the Fair one, still hovers about, peering if perchance he may still see her, and so he catches through the screen of gold the gleam of her eye, and declares that so long as the lovely glance is visible he will not renounce the woman. "But can you not see, there is no more gold?" remonstrates Loge. Fafner, who has not failed to store in his brain what he earlier overheard, replies, "Nothing of the kind. There is a gold ring still on Wotan's finger. Give us that to stop the cranny." "This ring?..." cries Wotan, like Alberich before him. "Be advised," Loge says to the giants, as if in confidence. "That ring belongs to the Rhine-maidens. Wotan intends to return it to them." But Wotan has no subterfuges or indirections of his own—not conscious ones; when he needs their aid, he uses another, as he had told Fricka. "What are you prating?" he corrects Loge; "what I have obtained with such difficulty, I shall keep without compunction for myself." Loge amuses himself with probing further the grained spot in his superior. "My promise then stands in bad case, which I made to the Rhine-daughters when they turned to me in their trouble." Wotan, with the coldness of the Pharisee's "Look thou to that," replies, "Your promise does not bind me. The ring, my capture, I shall keep." "But you will have to lay it down with the ransom," Fafner insists. "Ask what else you please, you shall have it; but not for the whole world will I give up the ring." Fasolt instantly lays hands again upon Freia and draws her from behind the Hort. "Everything then stands as it stood before. Freia shall come with us now for good and all." An outcry of appeal goes up from all the gods to Wotan. He turns from them unmoved. "Trouble me not. The ring I will not give up." And the idleness of further appeal, howsoever eloquent, cannot be doubted. (4) Ever since the year 1845 the powerful tragedy of the Nibelungs had exercised a most potent influence on Richard Wagner’s highly poetic nature. It was during the composition of “Lohengrin” that the old contest in Wagner’s mind between the mythical and historical principles was finally decided. The representative of the former was Siegfried, the hero of the earliest of Teutonic myths. In the domain of history Wagner perceived merely relations or circumstances and not man himself, or man only so far as he was controlled by the power of circumstances; while in the realm of myth he saw the pure soul of humanity. Desiring to give an artistic form and expression to the ardent study of Teutonic antiquity, especially of the mediaeval German poems and the old Scandinavian epics and sagas. By stripping the Teutonic myth of the various garbs in which it had been clad, and to some extent disfigured, by later poetic productions and sagas, it was revealed to him at last in its pure, primitive raiment and chaste beauty; and with it he found in the myth what he sought - the true man; that is, what is purely human, freed from all conventionalism - the tragedy of the human soul. The poem of the “Ring of the Nibelung” was printed for circulation among the friends of the composer in the year 1853; it was published in 1863. Although the master deemed music the only language befitting the ideal sphere of the myth, his dramas could not be called operas in the ordinary sense of the word. He named them, therefore, musical dramas, and the “Ring of the Nibelung” is a festival play for three days and a fore-evening. The fore-evening is entitled “The Rheingold.” As early as 1848 he had written the drama “Siegfried’s Death,” which later, considerably modified, came to form the fourth and last part of the Ring. He then wrote “Siegfried,” afterwards “Die Walküre,” and last “Das Rheingold.” The poem is written in alliterative lines, a form of versification most appropriate to the contents and the whole atmosphere of the drama. Wagner says that the at the mythical source where he found the youthful Siegfried he also found the melody of speech, the only one in which such a being could express himself. It is a well-known fact that alliteration (‘Stabreim,’ stave-rhyme) is used in the “Elder Edda” and in all the other earliest remnants of Scandinavian and German poetry. The most melodious alliterative rhymes are formed in German by the letters l, w and s, as is evident from the wellknown Spring-song of Siegmund in the Walküre.” Besides the Spring-song there are many other instances of beautiful alliterative versification; there are necessarily also lines of a different character, though they are just as appropriate to the contents therein. The gold according to ancient Teutonic traditions was imagined to lie in the waters’ depths. It was common belief that the golden sun descended every evening into the sea to repose there at night, and thus the ocean came to be considered as the abode of all wealth. In
FAFNER. Softly, Donner! Roll when thy sound will help thee sooner than here! DONNER. With thy bark see if thou balk it! WOTAN. Hold thy rage! Already Freia is hid. LOGE. The hoard is drained. FAFNER (measuring- with his eye). Still dazzles me Holda's hair; more is at hand meet for the heap! LOGE. Mean'st thou the helm? FAFNER. Quickly let it come! WOTAN. Keep it not longer! LOGE (throws the helm on the heap). Enough it is heightened. Now are you happy? FASOLT. Freia's no longer free to my look; is she then loosed? Am I to leave her? (He steps close up to the hoard and spies through it.) Woe! yet gleams her glance to me well; her eyelight's star streams without end; here through a cleft it comes to me whole! While with her look I am lighted, from the woman I will not loose. FAFNER. Hi! what bring you its brightness to hinder? LOGE. Hunger-holder! Hast thou forgot that gone is the gold? FAFNER. Not fully, friend! From Wotan's finger glean the glimmering ring, and choke the chink in the ransom. WOTAN. What! with the ring ? LOGE. Madly mean you! To Rhine-maidens belongs its gold; to their guard back he must give it. WOTAN. What blab'st thou about? With work and wear I found it, and freely save it myself. LOGE. Ill then weighs it all for the word that I gave them over their grief. WOTAN. But thy word can bar not my right; as booty wear I the ring. Fafner. Patience, Donner! Roar where it serves: thy thunder helps thee not here. Donner (aiming a blow). It will serve, scoundrel, to crush thee. Wotan. Loge. Peace, my friend! Methinks now Freia is hid. The hoard is spent. Fafner (measures the hoard closely with his eye). Yet shines to me Holda's hair: there, yonder toy throw on the hoard! Loge. Fafner. Wotan. What? e'en the helm? Quickly, here with it! Let it go also! Loge (throws the Tarnhelm on the pile). Then all is now finished! Are ye contented? Fasolt. Freia, the fair one, see I no more! then, is she released? must I now lose her? (He goes close up and peers through the hoard.) Fafner, Loge. Fafner. Wotan. Loge. Wotan. Loge. Wotan. Ah! yet gleams her glance on me here; her eyes like stars send me their beams; still through a cleft I look on their light. — While her sweet eyes shine upon me, from the woman will I not turn! Hey! I charge you, come stop me this crevice! Ne'er contented! See ye then not, all spent is the hoard? Nay, not so, friend! on Wotan's finger gleams the gold of a ring: give that to fill up the crevice! What? this my ring? Hear ye counsel! the Rhine-daughters should own the gold; and to them Wotan will give it. What pratest thou there? The prize that 1 have won me, without fear I hold for myself! Evil chance befalls the promise I gave the sorrowing maids! But thy promise bindeth me not: as booty mine is the ring. northern sagas the gold is often called the fire of Aeger (the seagod). Later the sea-gold became the river-gold, the Rhinegold, since in old German traditions the gold was thought to be concealed especially in the waters of the Rhine, the national river, hallowed in history, saga and legend. When in the heroic era the dangers and abuses of wealth began to be seen in the increasing power and overbearing might of the kings and chieftains, the ideas of evil, guilt, and misfortune were easily connected with the acquisition of riches. Thus the leading thought in the “Rheingold” is this: the gold is ravished from its primitive innocent abode and its original possessors, personified here by the Rhine-daughters, the guardians of the treasure, in order to acquire riches and power. To this conception is added the ethical idea that he only can rob the gold and employ it for that purpose by whom love has been forsworn and accursed; by him alone can be wrought from the gold the ring, the symbol of sensuous splendor and material power. But as soon as the gold has ceased to be what it has been – the playful sport of the spirits of the deep – as soon as it has become the object of acquisition for the sake of wielding infinite power alone, the curse rests upon it, and whoever owns it is doomed to destruction by the envy of others. It is the curse of the first evil deed that it ever must bring forth new evils. Wotan had made a solemn compact with the giants, and the stability of his realm depends on the sacredness of his oath. As if to remind him of this limit of his power, the orchestra intones a solemn theme, which might be called the law or bond motive. Another important melody of great sweetness, which first occurs in this scene, is that which marks the entrance of Freyja, the goddess of youth; to its sounds she implores the assistance of Wotan against her pursuers, whose clumsy footsteps, following the lovely maiden, are characterized by a heavy rhythmical phrase in the orchestra. The contrast between the natures here brought in contact is thus expressed by the music with an intensity wholly unattainable by verbal explanation. As to Loki, the chromatic motive expressive of his character resembles the fitful flickering of fire. In Loki’s flames the splendor of Valhall is doomed to perish, and it is also by his means that the moral guilt of the gods, which already in the Eddic poems is the cause of their fate, is brought about. The mist that had risen out of the cleft after Loki and Wotan disappeared and spread itself over the whole scene gradually clears. Loki, looking towards the right, perceives Fasolt and Fafnir from afar, leading Freya. From the other side Fricka, Thor and Frô appear. Fricka anxiously inquires after the success of Wotan’s undertaking, whereupon Loki points to the hoard. The foreground has become bright again; the appearance of the gods assumes in the light its former freshness. Over the background, however, the mist is still visible, so that the distant castle cannot be seen. Fafnir and Fasolt appear, with Freyja between them. Fricka joyously hastens towards her and embraces her. Fasolt and Fafnir thrust their staves in front of Freyja into the ground in such a way as to comprise the same height and breadth as her figure. Loki and Frô swiftly heap up the treasure between the staves. Fafner with rude force presses it close together, and stoops down to see if there are any open spaces. In the meantime, while Wotan can hardly suppress his rage against the giants, Fricka, fixing her glance on Freyja, bewails the shameful treatment to which the lofty goddess is thus exposed. Fafnir rudely calls for more gold; and Thor is about to attack the giant, when Wotan exclaims that Freyja’s figure is hidden by the hoard. At the same time Loki says that all the gold had been parted with. Fafnir, measuring the hoard with his eyes, replies that he can see Freyja’s hair, and demands the magic helmet. Loki throws it on the pile of gold. Fasolt then approaches the hoard and spies through it; he perceives Freyja’s gleaming eye, and at once declares that she cannot be freed unless she be wholly concealed from sight. Fafnir demands the ring, but Wotan stubbornly refuses to give it up. Fasolt then furiously drags Freyja from behind the hoard, and cries out that the goddess must follow the giants to their home. Despite the entreaties of Fricka, Frô and Thor to yield the ring and thereby procure Freyja’s ransom, Wotan is still determined to keep it. Fafnir for a moment holds off Fasolt, who is about to lead Freyja awawy. The gods stand amazed, and Wotan wrathfully turns away from them. Darkness reigns again on the scene. (6) FAFNER. But here for ransom hast thou to reach it. WOTAN. Fleetly fix what you will; all shall await you ; but all the world not rend me out of the ring! Fafner. Wotan. But here for ransom must it be rendered. Boldly ask what ye will, all I will grant you; for all the world yet I will not yield up the ring! 24. The Norn Motive (Erda) / 25. The Dusk of the Gods From the rocky cliffs at the side a bluish light breaks forth. In it Wotan immediately perceives Erda, who half emerges from the depth; she is of noble mien, with long black hair. Erda stretches her hand warningly towards Wotan. (6) FASOLT (with rage pulls Freia from behind the hoard). Then all is off, the time is up, and Freia forfeit for ever! FREIA. Help me! Hold me! FRICKA. Stubborn god, stay not the gift! FROH. Gone let the gold be! DONNER. Hold not the hoop back! WOTAN. Leave me at rest! I loose not the ring. (Fafner still holds off the impetuous Fasolt; all stand in perplexity; Wotan in rage turns away from them. The stage has again become dark; from the chasm at the side a bluish light breaks forth; in it Wotan suddenly perceives Erda, who, as far as her middle, rises out of the depth; she is of noble appearance with wide-flowing black hair.) ERDA (stretching her hand warningly towards Wotan). Yield it, Wotan, yield it! Fasolt (angrily pulls Freia from behind the hoard). All's at end! as erst it stands; now ours is Freia for ever! Freia. Fricka. Froh. Donner. Wotan. Help me! Help me! Cruel god! give them their way! Hold not the gold back! Grant them the ring then! Leave me in peace: the ring will I hold! FAFNER holds back FASOLT who is pressing to go. All stand confounded. WOTAN turns angrily away from them. The stage has again become dark. From a rocky cleft on one side breaks forth a bluish light in which ERDA becomes suddenly visible, rising from below to half her height. Erda (stretching her hand warningly towards WOTAN). Yield it, Wotan! Yield it! To stop the final crevices the Tarnhelm and the Ring must be added (Praise of the Rhinegold and the Rhine Gold fanfare are heard), much against Wotan’s will. He is persuaded to it by the warning of Erda, the wise, all-knowing mother, who emerges from the bowels of the earth, her dwelling-place, and whose emergence is accompanied by a motive associated with the fate-dealing Norns, her daughters. Its connection with the motive of the Primeval Element is evident. She tells of the dire danger that has summoned her, and the malignant syncopations of the Nibelung’s Work of Destruction add emphasis to her telling. A darksome day dawns for the gods, is her warning; and it is accompanied by the motive of the Dusk of the Gods. “Give up the Ring!” she counsels, and Wotan yields, with the Compact Motive sounding loud, and that of Renunciation: and the Flight Motive marking the release of Freia. (2) A bluish light glimmers in the rocky cleft to the right, and through it Erda rises to half her height. She warns Wotan against retaining possession of the ring. The Motives prominent during the action preceding the appearance of Erda will be readily recognized. They are the Giant Compact Motive combined with the Nibelung motive (the latter combined with the Giant Motive and Motive of the Hoard) and the Ring Motive, which breaks in upon the action with tragic force as Wotan refuses to give up the ring to the giants. The ERDA MOTIVE bears a strong resemblance to the Rhine Motive. The syncopated notes of the Nibelung’s malevolence, so threateningly indicative of the harm which Alberich is plotting, are also heard in Erda’s warning. Wotan, heeding her
Page 2 and 3: DER RING DES NIBELUNGEN (“The Rin
Page 4 and 5: (With merry cries they swim away fr
Page 6 and 7: Be Flosshild’ floated to heaven!
Page 8 and 9: (By degrees the waves change into c
Page 10 and 11: My trusty brother! Tells the blockh
Page 12 and 13: at last who had warred on love; for
Page 14 and 15: Greets she so faintly the grayness
Page 16 and 17: MIME. LOGE. MIME. LOGE. MIME. But,
Page 18 and 19: have fall'n to my might, shall your
Page 20 and 21: Wretched and ravening rogues! (To h
Page 24 and 25: Keep not what is cursed! Soon is se
Page 26: What sense is inside it? The name t

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