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

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


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one question more

      I threaten thee.

      Tell me, thou artful

      Armourer,

      Whose skill from the doughty splinters

      Nothung the sword shall fashion.

      MIME [Starts up in great terror.

      The splinters! The sword!

      Alas! my head reels!

      What shall I do?

      What can I say?

      Accursèd sword!

      I was mad to steal it!

      A perilous pass

      It has brought me to.

      Always too hard

      To yield to my hammer!

      Rivet, solder—

      Useless are both.

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

      The cleverest smith

      Living has failed;

      And, that being so,

      Who shall succeed?

      How rede aright such a riddle?

      WANDERER [Has risen quietly from the hearth.

      Three things thou wert to ask me;

      Thrice was I to reply.

      Thy questions were

      Of far-off things,

      But what stood here at thy hand—

      Needed much—that was forgot,

      Now that I guess it,

      Thou goest crazed,

      And won by me

      Is the cunning one's head.

      Now, Fafner's dauntless subduer,

      Hear, thou death-doomed dwarf.

      By him who knows not

      How to fear

      Nothung shall be forged.

      [Mime stares at him; he turns to go.

      So ward thy head

      Well from to-day.

      I leave it forfeit to him

      Who has never learned to fear.

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

      MIME

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

      Accursèd light!

      The air is on fire!

      What flickers and flashes?

      What buzzes and whirs?

      What sways there and swings

      And circles about?

      What glitters and gleams

      In the sun's hot glow?

      What rustles and hums

      And rings so loud?

      With roll and roar

      It crashes this way!

      It bursts through the wood,

      Making for me!

      [He rises up in terror.

      Its jaws are wide open,

      Eager for prey;

      The dragon will catch me!

      Fafner! Fafner!

      [He sinks shrieking behind the anvil.

      SIEGFRIED

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

      Ho there! Thou idler!

      Is the work finished?

      [He enters the cave.

      Quick, come show me the sword.

      [He pauses in surprise.

      Where hides the smith?

      Has he made off?

      Hey, there! Mime, thou coward!

      Where art thou? Where hidest thou?

      MIME

      [In a small voice, from behind the anvil.

      'Tis thou then, child?

      Art thou alone?

      SIEGFRIED [Laughing.

      Under the anvil?

      Why, what doest thou there?

      Wert thou grinding the sword?

      MIME [Comes forward, greatly upset and confused.

      The sword? The sword?

      How could I weld it?

      [Half aside.

      By him who knows not

      How to fear

      Nothung shall be forged.

      Too wise am I

      To attempt such work.

      SIEGFRIED [Violently.

      Wilt thou speak plainly

      Or must I help thee?

      MIME [As before.

      Where shall I turn in my need?

      My wily head

      Wagered and lost is,

      [Staring before him.

      And forfeit to him it will fall

      Who has never learned to fear.

      SIEGFRIED [Vehemently.

      Dost thou by shuffling

      Seek to escape?

      MIME [Gradually recovering himself.

      Small need to fly

      Him who knows fear!

      But that lesson was one never taught thee.

      A fool, I forgot

      The one great thing;

      What thou wert taught

      Was to love me,

      And alas! the task proved hard.

      Now how shall I teach thee to fear?

      SIEGFRIED [Seizes him.

      Hey! Must I help thee?

      What work hast thou done?

      MIME

      Concerned for thy good,

      In thought I was sitting:

      Something of weight I would teach thee.

      SIEGFRIED [Laughing.

      'Twas under the seat

      That thou wert sitting;

      What weighty thing foundest thou there?

      MIME

      [Recovering


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