"Wotan's spear is stretched against thee."
"Wotan's spear is stretched against thee."
"To horse! to horse!" she cried; and seeing that Sieglinde's senses were gone from her, she gathered her up in the strength of her noble womanhood, and with that burden in her arms mounted her horse Grane and galloped off away from the open places that she might hide her from the wrath to come. Nor was she too soon, for presently after the clouds were parted and rolled away, and lo! on the ridge stood Wotan, and at his feet lay Siegmund. And as Wotan looked at him his godlike mind was torn with agony and woe unspeakable. As yet Hunding saw not the god, for his eyes were not opened, and cruelly with his foot on the man he wrenched out his sword from his breast. And at that, seeing that he who had fallen was noble, and the other but a black cur from the forest, Wotan turned to him and opened his eyes.
"Get thee hence, slave," said he, "and tell Fricka that by the spear of Wotan is her vengeance wrought. Begone!"
And in contempt he waved his hand, and before that withering scorn Hunding sank down dead. Then suddenly fierce anger seized Wotan, for he thought of what Brunnhilde had done, and how she disobeyed his command, and made scorn of his words.
"Woe to her, woe to her!" he cried. "Dire and dread shall be her portion for this day's work. With the reined lightning and the bridled thunder follow I after her, swift on the wings of the storm."
And at his word the winds of heaven and all the hurricanes of the air rushed to his bidding, and seated in his chariot of storms he drove on Brunnhilde's trail.
Now on that day on which Brunnhilde disobeyed the behest of Wotan, and instead of slaying Siegmund, and bringing his soul to Walhalla where he would abide with the other heroes, shielded him, yet to little purpose, the glorious company of the Valkyries, who were eight in number, and all her sisters, being likewise the daughters of Wotan and born of Erda, were out to battle and fight with the heroes of the sons of men, whom they bore to Walhalla, there to defend its lofty walls and sit at wine with their fellows. All that day had they ridden on their quests, and when it was towards evening they began to gather, as they had appointed, on the top of a certain rocky height, there to number their spoils, and go all together, a wild and joyous company, to the halls of Walhalla, there to gladden the heart of their father Wotan with what they had done.
High and open to the winds of heaven was their trysting-place, a region of bleak mountain land, a very crown of the world. Steeply rose its barren cliffs on all sides but one, and here a pine wood clung to the hillside, in the shade and shelter of which they might tether their horses, as they waited for the gathering of their sisters. Great storms had raged all day, and as evening came on their violence was in no whit abated, but seemed to grow ever fiercer. But little did the Valkyries heed such menaces, for their joy was in storm, and they drank deep from whirlwinds as a thirsty man will drink of a bowl of wine, and feel his strength come back to him; and the swifter the blasts screamed over the terror-stricken earth, the swifter did the Valkyries ride on their errands, and the louder and more joyous sounded their fierce, glad battle-cries of death. High and untamed of heart were they, and maidens all of them, for of men they had no thought, save only that men were the game and quarry of their hunting, and they loved a strong man's strength only because thus the fighting was the fiercer, and the nobler and braver was the foeman whose soul they should carry to Walhalla, there to have life eternal breathed into it by Wotan. But of the fierceness of love they knew nought, nor cared to know: danger and death had brighter eyes for them than a lover.
All day had their trysting-place stood empty and buffeted by the winds and rains, for far distant were the quests on which the sisters had gone, and wild and shrill was the music of the storm. Now with a scream the wind would awake and yell among the rocks, and the beating of the rain was like the sound of the drums that call to war. Then the shrillness of the storm would abate, and for a while it would moan with low and flute-like notes among the stems of the pine-trees, and whisper among their nodding tops, as if with a false promise of peace. Then in fresh anger, as of hounds a-yelp, it would break out again, and with shrill trumpetings scream among the sharp edges of the rocks, or vibrate like to a twanged string round the stumps of trees and weep like some lost soul among the thick-stemmed bushes. But towards evening, though the rain abated not, nor the mad riot of the winds, a man might hear very far away the rhythmical tramping of some deathless steed, as one of the wild Valkyries approached, or far away a light would break out among the clouds showing where another rode lightly on the very winds and airs of heaven. Thus flying and galloping from every quarter of the world, that glorious company began to assemble, and the storm screamed welcome to them with many voices.
Legion were the questions each had to ask of the other, as to how she had sped that day, and what hero she brought back slung across her saddle-bows, and joyful were the greetings with which each hailed the other. Some, too, had brought with them the horses of the slain, and loud were the neighings and whinnyings in the wood as horse smelt filly, and cocked his ear and swished his tail for very joy of the life that was in him. But the noblest of all were the steeds of the Valkyries, and these they tied up to the trees while they waited for their full company to gather; and they cared for them tenderly, for it was by the deathless strength of their noble steeds that they rode so swiftly on their wide errands of death. Again and yet again flared the wild light of their approach, and on the saddle of each was swung a hero, for all had prospered that day, and joyfully they spoke together of the gathering there would be in Walhalla that night when they returned triumphant, and how Wotan would be well pleased at their prowess; while high rose the mirth at the table where sat the heroes, as their new brethren made whole again, and filled with eternal life by the power of Wotan, sat them down in wonder and amaze at the glory and joy that awaited them, when their eyes were opened after the sleep of death, to behold the dawning of the everlasting day.
And by now all the maidens were gathered but one only, for Brunnhilde, the eldest and the most noble of them all, had not yet returned from her quest, and the sisters wondered that she should delay so long. But one, thinking that they were all gathered, asked another why yet they delayed, for the sun was near its setting, and it was time they set forth to go to Walhalla with their spoils.
But she to whom her sister spake, replied—
"Not yet are we all gathered, for Brunnhilde comes not yet. Her deed to-day, as I know, my sisters, was with the Wolsung Siegmund, and she tarries long, for he fights for a woman, and men in such case are ever fiercest Yet may we not go to Walhalla till she is come, for what welcome, think you, we should get from Wotan, came we before him lacking his heart's darling? Dear are we all to him, but she is the dearest, and to us the dearest of all is she."
Meantime another of the eight, Siegrune, had climbed to the topmost ridge of rock, and looked out as best she might through the blinding storm, to see if Brunnhilde approached. Then suddenly the others below heard her shout of joyful war-cry, with which the sisters were wont to hail each other.
"She comes, she comes!" she cried, "and the speed of her coming is like the passage of the lightning, and as thunder the rides on the wings of the wind."
Then they all called aloud on her, and another sister, Waltraute, swiftly ran up to where Siegrune sat.
"See, she rides to the wood, and her good Grane labours sore. How spent he seems with her headlong speed."
And yet a third climbed up beside the two others.
"The wildest, fiercest ride that ever Brunnhilde sped," she cried. "But see! what lies on her saddle? No hero is it."
Then as the maid came nearer, riding on the wings of the storm, they saw that it was no hero indeed she carried, but a woman; and swiftly they hurried down to the wood to meet her, for that a Valkyrie should bring back a woman as spoil was in truth a new thing. And as they ran down they questioned one with another what this could be. They saw, too, that her good horse Grane was utterly spent with the gallop, and this, too, was a new thing, for Grane had the stoutest heart and the most untiring limbs of any horse in earth or heaven.
Then came Brunnhilde towards them through the trees, giving her support and strength to the woman Sieglinde, whom she led. Round her neck was Sieglinde's arm laid, yet scarcely even so could she put foot before foot, for like Grane the strength of her body was spent utterly, and her soul was sore with all that had come upon her. Then with hands outstretched in entreaty came Brunnhilde to them; and that, too, was a strange thing and a new, for of them all she was the blithest.
Brunnhilde brings Sieglinde to the Valkyries' Meeting place.
Brunnhilde brings Sieglinde to the Valkyries' Meeting place.
"Save me, sisters," cried she, "for harm follows hard after me, and I who never yet fled from any man fly now, and behind me in thunder and relentless pursuit follows the War-father."
And down she sank on a seat of rock, still supporting her whom she led.
But wonder and amazement seized on the sisters, and it seemed that she must be distraught and her wits, astray that she spoke so, for how should Wotan, whose darling she was, and whose very will she mirrored, be up in wrath against her?
Then Brunnhilde cried out again—
"Run to the topmost ridge, my sisters, and tell me if ye see aught. Look to the northward and say if the father comes, and if he is yet in sight, for I have fled before him. All day I have fled before him, and my heart is gone from me, for he rides furiously."
Then did the sisters do her bidding, and lo! to the northward there rose in the sky a great cloud, separate from the storm down which Brunnhilde had steered, and it rose high and black and moved very swiftly, and out of the midst of it came thunderings and lightnings, nor could they doubt but that this was Wotan riding on the clouds, his chariot. Then returned they and told Brunnhilde what they had seen, and she was very sore afraid, for she too knew that fast in pursuit came Wotan from the north, and that he came in wrath and terrible anger. And again she cried—
"Save me, my sisters, and shield the woman. Ye know not who she is, but I will tell you all and quickly, for there is no time to lose. Sieglinde is it I bring, the sister of Siegmund the Wolsung and his bride. Wotan this day, for Fricka's sake, doomed to death the Wolsung, and bid me forsake him whom ever I had loved. And obey I could not, for my heart allowed me not, and instead of forsaking him, and fighting against him, I sheltered him with my invincible shield. But on the other side fought Wotan, and against his spear was Siegmund's sword shattered. Then fear seized me, and I fell back, so that my shield no longer sheltered him, and by Hunding's sword did Siegmund fall. And with this woman fled I before the wrath that is coming, and hither I came, for with your help maybe the fulness of his displeasure shall be turned from my head."
Then were all the sisters filled with sorrow and amazement that she had disobeyed the word of Wotan, and scarce could they believe that she had dared to do this thing, for that Wotan's word should not be obeyed was a thing unthinkable, and they were sorely grieved. And ever from the north, like night, came the storm-chariot of Wotan nearer, and they knew the growing roar of the thunder to be the whinnying of the wild horses that he drove.
But Brunnhilde looked on Sieglinde, and as she looked all fear for herself was merged in pity for her, and again she spake to her sisters.
"Sisters, sisters, woe and destruction waits this woman if she abides the coming of Wotan, for with fire and wrath and the utmost terror of his face he wars against the Wolsungs. So, for my horse Grane is spent, lend me, I pray you, one of yours, that with her I may flee again and make her safe."
Then, though they all loved Brunnhilde, and she entreated each in turn, yet none would do this, for Wotan was their father, and not even at Brunnhilde's prayer could they turn from him. Thus she knew not which way to turn for help, and she bent over Sieglinde, and for pity of her and for sorrow she kissed her and embraced her lovingly. And at that caress Sieglinde, who till now had taken no part or lot in this wild war of words, but had sat as one who saw not nor felt, looked up into Brunnhilde's eyes, and saw all the sorrowful loving-kindness which sat there, and made such softness in her eyes.
"It is enough," she said, "for death, now Siegmund is dead, terrifies me not at all, and I would not that harm came to thee for my sake. Would that some blow in that strife had fallen on me, so that I might have died with him. Indeed I will not be parted from him. So, O thou holy and dear maiden, who hast been so tender to me, let me not live and curse thy tenderness, but hearken to my prayer, and strike me to the heart with thy sword. Strike strongly of thy strength."
And Brunnhilde spoke low to her and earnestly. "Ah, not so, not so," she said. "Cast not his love away, the pledge of which he has given thee. For hidden deep in thee lies another life; from thy womb shall spring a Wolsung."
Then did the mother awake in the woman, and all her face was flushed as with sunrise by a holy joy. Though she had no fears for herself, yet it could not be that the begotten of Siegmund should perish, and she thought of her unborn babe.
"Ah, save me and shelter me," she cried, "and shelter my helpless babe. O, ye maidens, I call you to save me and hide me from the wrath of Wotan."
Then suddenly came the voice of Waltraute from the topmost rock. "The storm is at hand," she cried. "Get thee hence, ere it fall on thee."
At that the others cried to Brunnhilde to get hence with the woman, for they dare not ward her from Wotan, and Sieglinde fell on her knees, and as mother of a child that should yet be born, besought Brunnhilde to save her for the sake of her motherhood that should be.
Then did Brunnhilde commune swiftly with herself, for lacking a horse she could not hope to flee with the woman before the face of Wotan. Yet when she spake her voice trembled, for she was afraid. But by no other way could she save Sieglinde and that holy seed.
"Get thee away alone," said she, "and flee softly and swiftly from the wrath. But I abide here so that in wrath against me he may delay his further pursuit. Here and on me will that full flood break, and here will it pour itself forth, and in the meantime shalt thou make thyself safe against his pursuit."
And for the sake of her child, Sieglinde pressed her hands in thanks.
"And whither shall I flee from the wrath?" she asked.
Then Brunnhilde turned again to her sisters. "O help me here," she said, "for in this in no way do ye cross the will of Wotan. Say, which of you have journeyed eastward this day?"
And Siegrune answered: "I, and eastward lies there a great wood where the giant Fafner guards the ring which was made from the Rhine-gold. That none should know it is he, he has taken the likeness of a mighty dragon, and in his lair he guards the ring. Yet it is no place for a helpless woman."
"Nor meet for a helpless woman is it to abide the wrath of Wotan," answered Brunnhilde. "And that wood, well know I, Wotan loves not, nor ever does he venture in its shade, for he thinks that there lurkes evil for him, and dark is the womb of fate."
Even as she spoke again, Waltraute shouted from the rock. "Wotan is very near," she cried; "hear ye not the roar of his coming?"
Then Brunnhilde trembled, but delayed not, and taking hold of Sieglinde she showed her the way she must follow.
"So begone!" she cried, "and set thy face ever eastwards. Great indeed is the burden that thou bearest within thee, so let thy heart be great also. Hunger and thirst will be thine, and the stony rock shall be thy bed, and with thorns shalt thou cover thyself, and of briars shalt thou make thy pillow. So be lifted up in thy courage and take these things blithely, and laugh only when thy need is the sorest. And, O woman! forget not ever, nor think lightly of what I tell thee, for within thee in the darkness of thy womb lies he who shall be the highest hero of earth."
Then took she from her mantle the fragments of the sword of Siegmund which she had gathered up when it was shattered against the spear of Wotan, and darkness fell on the rocky ridge where he fought with Hunding.
"Treasure these safe," said she, "for these are the shattered pieces of thy man's sword. Them gathered I for thy child, and he once more shall wield it in days to be. And I name him now. Siegfried shall he be, and by him shall be won the peace of victory, and the sword shall make him glad. So begone!"
But Sieglinde clung to her a moment yet.
"O, sweetest and most mighty of maidens," she said, "thy truth to me has made me believe that what thou now sayest is to be. That which thou hast given me, which was his whom we both loved, I will guard very jealously, and by him who will spring from Siegmund's loins perchance shall one day thy sorrow and mine be turned into joy and laughter. So farewell. The woman of many woes and sorrows blesses thee every day and for ever."
Then she went swiftly away eastwards through the pines.
For a moment Brunnhilde stood there watching with a strange exaltation the figure of Sieglinde as it grew ever dimmer in the dimness of the plumed pines, and when it was now quite vanished she turned again, and stood yet awhile with clenched hands and knitted brow, so that she might be mistress of herself when the heavy wrath of Wotan fell on her, and disgrace not her own nature nor the bright company of her fearless sisters. Little she seemed to care what doom he might mete out to her, for at the worst he could but deal her swift death, and if the sons of men could die bravely and blithely, meeting the face of death as they would meet a friend's face, could she do less, she the first of the children of Erda? For all that, she was afraid, and with her fear there cut her like a two-edged sword the pang of remorse that she had disobeyed him whom her soul loved. Yet in this matter she knew well that were that choice again before her, she would do again as she had done, and not otherwise, for pity had enlightened her, and that sweet mandate was binding on her.
Then lifted she her eyes and saw that the height where her sisters had watched was already quite hidden by the thunder clouds that had driven so swiftly from the north, and it was as if black night encompassed the place. And from the middle of the cloud came the unceasing roar of thunder and the wild lanterns of the lightning flashed all ways at once. Then for a moment they ceased, and out of the middle of the cloud came the voice she loved, and it was more terrible than all the thunderings. Not very loud was it, but therein lay wrath as deep as the sea, and unappeasable as the desert's thirst; and it called her by name. And when Brunnhilde heard that she stood very still.
But the other Valkyries wailed among themselves when they saw that their father Wotan had even now reached the place, and loudly they bewailed for their sister Brunnhilde, for by his voice they knew that Wotan was exceedingly wroth. Then suddenly at the sound of their wailing, the fountains of fear were altogether loosed within Brunnhilde, and she felt sick with very terror, and her knees shook together. And she who had never besought aught for herself, besought them now.
"Sisters, sisters of mine, help me!" she cried, "for the sickness of fear has come upon me, and my heart is pierced. Surely his rage will crush me utterly, if you protect me not. Stand round me, let me hide among you, that he come not on me alone."
Then were her sisters full of pity for her, for none could "gainsay or resist her appeal; and in a company they ranged themselves upon a little rocky height that was there, all eight of them, and Brunnhilde they set in their midst, and she cowered down among them. Thus it might be that Wotan would suppose that she had not joined her sisters in fear of his displeasure, and that thus he might seek her elsewhere. And they whispered to her to be, of good cheer, and crouch low in the midst of them, and not answer to his call. This she did; and they grouped themselves round her on the rocky point, and thus awaited the coming of Wotan. Yet the bravest of them were afraid at the thought of the wrath that was coming, for they had seen him alight from his chariot on the mountain-top close above them, and in the calm of his anger there was that which was more terrible than the bellowing thunder or the lightning stroke. Then without haste came he down and stood before them. In his right hand he held the ashen spear, and his left hung by his side with fingers clenched, and his glorious face, before which the earth trembled, was very still and set; only the point of his spear trembled like an aspen leaf as he held it, and the Valkyries knew the wrath that shook him. Then he opened his mouth and spake very gently.
"Where is Brunnhilde?" said he, "for after her and her wickedness am I come. Do you think to hide her from me, or that ye will veil her and her evil deed from the reward I mete out to it?"
Then one and another replied to him, hoping to turn away his wrath; and one said that nought that she could do was so terrible as the anger with which he sought her; and another asked what it was that had so moved his rage; and yet another spake of the heroes they had slain that day, thus vainly seeking to cool his anger. But to their replies he answered not; only the trembling of the head of the ashen spear grew more violent, and at the last he broke out, no longer being still and calm in his wrath, but with an outburst of such rage as they had not dreamed was there. For all that, it was not so terrible as the stillness of the anger in which he had come to them.
"Is it your purpose to mock me?" he cried. "Indeed I am not good to mock. O, ye Valkyries, ye wax over-bold, nor does this delay serve to calm my displeasure, but it spreads further like the rising tide, and reaches you too. Of what avail then are your idle words? for well I know that there in your midst ye foolishly seek to guard Brunnhilde. I bid you all then to stand off from her, for from me and from you and your company she is for ever an outcast. She has proved herself worthless. Worthless is she, and the doom of the worthless shall come upon her at my hands."
Then again once more they besought him, for they trembled for Brunnhilde who in their midst lay trembling, and they told him how in panic of fear she had fled before him, beseeching her sisters to shield and shelter her, for they knew that they could not deceive him, nor was it of any use to say that she was not with them. So ere they handed her to him they tried to soften his anger, telling him that already fear, like some ploughshare, had furrowed her heart, that heart which had never yet trembled nor turned faint. Then with one voice they besought him to have pity, remembering her mighty deeds. But their pleading but more inflamed him, for it was the very darling of his soul who had disobeyed him, and thus her sin was the more grievous, and to try to turn his wrath and beseech in this sort seemed to him a womanish deed. So again he broke out in ever fiercer anger.
"Are ye indeed Valkyries?" he said, "and can it be that I have begotten a brood so timorous of soul, and so little courageous? Women of faint heart are ye all! Were these the hearts that I moulded, which should meet war and the clash of fighting like men, sharp as steel and hard as tempered steel, that like a pack of women you whimper in this sort when I, the righteous judge, come to visit one who has failed in truth? Ah! and ye know not half."
For a moment his anger all died out and left him only very sorry, for he loved Brunnhilde with a love far deeper than any of her sisters could ever know, and his voice softened.
"Ye shall hear what she has done," he said, "and judge if it was not meeter that my tears should flow and that I rather than you should weep and wail. For to her, to Brunnhilde, my innermost being and the secrets of my heart were known as to myself, and into her soul, as into a well of water, I looked and beheld myself, and my will that had been dark to me grew clear. In her, as in the womb of a woman with child, my will matured, and from her it came to birth. Never was there love like this between any man and maid. Was that a bond to lightly loose? Yet to-day she loosed it, and she who was my will fought against me. A clear command I laid on her, and in the sight of heaven and earth she disobeyed it, and the sword of Siegmund, made by me, was directed against myself by her command. She has done this."
Crouching among her sisters.
Crouching among her sisters.
Then he paused a little space, and again he spoke: "No longer I speak to you Valkyries, I speak to her. Dost thou hear me, Brunnhilde? Thou whom in every part I fashioned, to whom I gave thy deathless armour, to whom I gave all the sweetness and joy of life, dost thou hear me? And hearing me, art thou, thou, Brunnhilde, afraid, that thou hidest thyself like a coward, thou, Brunnhilde, and would shrink away from the doom and punishment that I have appointed for thee? So come out, come out, and of thy own free-will!"
And when Brunnhilde, crouching among her sisters, heard the voice of her father speaking in such sort to her, him whom she knew best and loved best of all the world, all fear suddenly died in her heart, for the love that each had towards the other cast fear out, and she knew only that he called her, and she must go. And she stood up straight, and with her hands to right and left she parted the sisters who would have screened her still, and with firm step and head borne proudly, as was ever her wont, she came near to where Wotan stood and looked him in the face and spoke to him.
"Father, I am here," she said. "Make known to me what thou wiliest."
Then answered Wotan: "Not from me, Brunnhilde," he said, "comes thy fate; it is thou thyself who hast sent it. Was it not by the might of my will that thy soul first awoke in thee? Yet thou hast warred against thy own soul. It was the might of my word that made thee mighty in noble deeds, yet to my word thou hast given the lie. Thou wast ever the maiden of my will to me, and against my will hast thou gone. Thou wast the maiden who bore my shield, but against me hast thou stretched the shield forth. It was thou whom I appointed to choose the lots of life and death. Where I ordained life thou didst think to give death, where I appointed death thou didst let live. It was thou whom I appointed to lift up the hearts of heroes, yea, and thou didst lift them up against me. I tell thee all that thou wert; but by what name thou shouldest now be called, thou knowest thyself. No more art thou the maiden of my will, but maiden only, and as Valkyrie thou hast gone on thy last errand. From henceforth thou art that which thou hast made thyself; thou metest out thy own punishment, and it is just."
Then did it seem to Brunnhilde that she could have borne all else but only this, that she should be thus parted from her father, and her heart was stricken.
"Dost thou so cast me from thee?" she said. "Canst thou think to do such a thing?"
"Thou sayest it," said he, "and thou art outcast from me utterly. Never again from Walhalla shalt thou storm forth at my bidding on thy joyous errands, nor ever again shall I show to thee the heroes thou shalt fight and slay, guiding their souls at eventide to my halls, there to make merry at the joyful feastings of the gods. Nor ever again when the mirth grows louder, deep into the night, shalt thou hand me the wine-cup, nor again shall our souls mingle in the sweet caresses of father and daughter as was our wont. For out of the company of gods thou art taken, and thy place shall know thee no more, and thou, that fair flower-bud that grew so strong and sweet on the abiding stem of my godhead, art nipped off and cast away. For the bond between us is broken, and for ever art thou banished from before my face, and out of the light of mine eyes."
Then began the sisters all to weep and to wail, for like Wotan they loved her, and with words of pity they called on her by name, and bitterly they lamented themselves. But among them all Brunnhilde stood dry-eyed and firm. Nought said she to vainly try to turn his mind, she wished but to learn her uttermost doom.
"Then is all, all that thou hast given me, utterly lost to me?" she said. "Of all thy gifts dost thou strip me? Is all lost to me?"
"Yea, and it is lost to me," said Wotan, "for from the life and light of the gods thou passest. Here shalt thou abide, even here, and deep sleep shall wrap thee round, and thou shalt be alone and without protector, until the day come that some man, a wayfarer, passing here shall see a maid lying alone, and shall come to her and wake her, and she shall be his. Maiden only thou art, not maiden of my will, and to maid, as is fit, comes man."
But even now when the horror of her full doom was told to Brunnhilde, still she swooned not nor bewailed herself. But among the sisters again rose wild tumult and bewilderment of pity, for of all dooms to fall into the hands of a man was to them the most shameful, and the stain and disgrace that was decreed to her touched their sisterhood. And with one consent they entreated their father to have pity, and not put that uttermost degradation on her, but refrain from cursing her with so great an infamy. Yet he paid no heed to their wailings, for it was even as he said, and Brunnhilde was the maiden of his will no more, but a maiden only, and a man will find the maiden at the last.
Then because they still importuned him till he was vexed with them, he turned fiercely on them. "Her fate is fixed," he cried, "and ye have heard it. From you as from me is she for ever separate because she was faithless; and as I have said, so shall it be. No more shall her steed whinny to its fellows as ye fly together on the wings of the winds. And here shall she abide till the man who fares by shall pluck the full bloom of her sleeping maidenhood, and from maid shall make of her mother. To man her master shall her heart be bent, and meekly shall she do all his will. The cares of the house shall be hers, and by the hearth-side shall she sit and ply the distaff, as befits a wife, and the mockers among men, it may be, shall make merry at her. Woman shall she be among the sons of men, and her fate none other than theirs."
Then was the spirit of Brunnhilde broken within her, for the punishment was harder than she could bear; yet still she said no word. But her sisters again broke out into lamentations, whereat Wotan was angry, for what must be, must be, and their bewailings were but a waste of breath and cowardly withal. Nor was it his will to palaver longer with them.
"Begone, begone!" he cried, "for but a little more and ye share her doom. So begone, lest her fate be yours also. For the last time ye look on her face. And should one of you remain here lingering, in vain hope of resisting my will or changing my unchangeable mind, Brunnhilde's doom is hers too. So be wise while there is time. Get ye gone from this rock, her sleeping-place, and let none again be found here. To horse with you all, for swiftly shall woe light on the loiterer."
Then the sisters, seeing that the doom was spoken, and though Walhalla should fall, yet should Wotan's word abide, went very sorrowfully to their horses, and loosed them from their tetherings, and each mounted and rode off. Shrill through the woods and the echoing mountain-side sounded the storm of their going, for the winds awoke to speed them, and over dale and down glen they sped swiftly, till the noise of their travel grew faint, and on the mountain-side there abode only Wotan and Brunnhilde, who still lay crouched at his feet.
Thus the wild storm of the ride of the Valkyries passed away. Like smoke they were borne away on the wings of the tempest, and a windless calm fell round about the place where Wotan and Brunnhilde abode on the mountain-top. The sun was already set, though still to westwards there lingered the reflected fires of its setting, and star by star came out in the deepening vault of blue overhead, until all heaven was spangled with their burning and grew bright at eventide. Eastward rose the moon at its fullest, to climb its silent and appointed journey over the firmament, and shone with a light exceeding bright and clear as running water. In the brake the chorus of birds was hushed, and over hill and valley spread and deepened the spring night. Such a night indeed it was as that on which, but one sunset ago, had Siegmund come to the house of Hunding-through the storms which day-long had lashed the hillsides; and now, even as then, the storm was hushed, and deep peace lay over the earth. Yet swiftly the finger of fate had written, and swift had been the accomplishment of that decree, for lover lay dead and husband also, while through the gloomy forest hurried Sieglinde eastwards, to shield that which lay within her from the wrath of Wotan. And she, Brunnhilde, that had befriended the lover and his beloved, lay very still at the feet of her father making a darkness for her eyes, for on her head had the wrath come, and stern and terrible was her punishment. For lightly had she recked of his godhead and his holy behest, and by the maiden of his will had his will been betrayed; thus she was will-maiden to him no longer, and should wayfarer hap on her, not maid but woman, for so had the word gone forth from Wotan's mouth. Long time then sat the god there motionless with the crouched figure of her he loved at his feet, but at the last she raised her head, and essayed to meet the eyes that met not hers, and slowly she spoke.
"Is in truth my fault so vile and shameful," said she, "that with so shameful a visitation thou must needs reward it? Time was when high on the sunlit cliff of godhead I stood with thee, and have I now by my sin cast myself down so utterly to the slime and horror of the nethermost pit, that viler phantoms than Hella ever knew must flap their wings of darkness round me? Surely it is not possible that in one moment I so put off all the worth that ever was mine, all which I had from thee, that a fate so unworthy fits me."
Yet still the god looked not at her, and Brunnhilde nigh despaired. Yet alone with him, for the twain were indeed not two but one, she could beseech and entreat him, though before her sisters she thought shame to do so, and slowly the words were wrung from her, like dropping blood from some deep-welling wound.
"Father, father!" she cried, "look once again in mine eyes, and let the light of thine dwell once more on my face, and search it well and remember what has been, and let not the loving-kindness of old days be forgotten. So, maybe, shall thy wrath not burn so fiercely against me, and thy anger be assuaged. Cast the strong and clear light of thy knowledge on the sin I have committed, and look well at it to see if indeed it merits this doom, so that thy child must be for ever forsaken by thee, and her love no more brought to remembrance."
Then looked he at her, but no ray shot across the sombre gloom of his face.
"Look at thy sin thyself," said he, "and let thy mind be to thee a lantern that illumines it. Mark it carefully, and know fully indeed what thou hast done. What need for me to tell thee. Thou knowest."
Then did Brunnhilde ponder on all they had said together the night before concerning the Wolsungs, and how Wotan's mind ere yet he had talked with Fricka had been to save Siegmund and destroy Hunding, for he was husband to Sieglinde only by name and vow, while Siegmund was the man she loved, and how he had commanded herself to fight well for Siegmund.
"Time was," she said, "when thou wert on Siegmund's side, and by thy side was I, as ever. It was the word that thou saidst to me then which was in my heart when I fought for him."
But the cloud moved not from Wotan's face, but sat throned there heavily.
"Hotfoot from speech with me thou wentest to the battle," said he. "Was the word of mine that then rang in thy ears to do as thou didst do?"
"Yet when first the lot was cast," said the maid, "the lot of death declared for Bunding."
"It was so," said he. "But the bidding I gave thee then I revoked, and thou knowest it. Yea, and thou didst know it even when the sin of disobedience was red upon thee."
"But who changed the mind that erst was in thee?" said she. "Of thyself thou didst not change it, but Fricka inclined thee to her will, breaking asunder the resolve that thou hadst made. Her whim it was that swayed thy mind; nor was I the first foe to thy will, but thou thyself, when the unalterable word that thou hadst spoken was changed and twisted and made of nought because so the whim of Fricka would have it."
Then was Wotan even more sore at heart, for he had thought that Brunnhilde had known his will to the full, but with open eyes had disobeyed it. Yet this was worse, in that she thought him infirm of purpose and easily swayed, and here lay treason to him.
But she, though no word came from him, yet fathomed his thought, and to that unspoken thought made reply.
"Father, I am not wise as thou art," she said, "but this I knew, that thou didst love the Wolsung who sprang from thy loins, and I thought that thy strife of words with Fricka had blinded thy mind and bewildered thy sense, so that in that moment thou wast unmindful of him. And it was a bitter thing to my heart to see Siegmund stand unprotected and outside the range of thy protecting arm, for thou didst ever love him, and in nought had he disobeyed thy word; though to Fricka's mind he had done amiss."
But Wotan's face still gloomed above her.
"Ah, thou didst know, thou didst know what way my choice had gone, and that which determined me concerned thee not," he said; "and knowing that, thou wert at Siegmund's side with the guard and shelter of thy shield, thou didst range thyself against me and against the word that had gone forth from my lips."
Then Brunnhilde knew there was only one thing left as yet unspoken by her by which might the doom that he had decreed upon her be averted. So that last arrow left in her sheaf she drew. For ever Wotan had been a friend to love, whether among the gods or among the race of men whom his might sustained and his pity upheld. So now, since for the first time the comprehension of love had reached her, when that morning she saw Siegmund recked nought of what might be done to him, but considered—only that he might not be bereft of his wife Sieglinde, and thus thought scorn of Walhalla's blisses, if so be she was not there to share them with him, so Brunnhilde thought that even now at the last Wotan might perchance pity her for that which he knew so well, for the sake of the love to which he was ever friend.
"It is true, it is true," she said, "but there is yet one thing thou dost not know. For when at thy bidding I first drew near to Siegmund bearing swift death for him, and having no thought in my mind of pity for him or of disobedience to thy word, my soul was melted when I saw how it was with him, and heard him speak. Then knew I that he was a hero, for no fear at all was his, neither of swift bright-eyed death, nor even of Hella itself, and knew I also that one overmastering need beset his soul, and that was his love for Sieglinde. And my heart made obeisance to his love, and reverenced it, and hence was pity born. Behold, his tongue was a trumpet, and the grief that was his he blared forth, and none heard him but I. The splendid sorrow of love that reached as high as the heavens had in his heart its everlasting seat, and that love throned; there thought scorn of all else, and to the terrors with which I threatened him his ear was utterly deaf. These things, father, I heard and saw, and as I hearkened and beheld, the might of that defenceless man shook the fortress walls that until then had ever girded my heart, and they tottered and fell, and lo! I was open to the invader. Thy godhead and thy nature that is mine, died, and as a maiden of mortal birth and human sufferings I stood before him, lost in one thought, how could I help him."
Again she made pause and drew closer to Wotan's knee.
"Father, who had given me the love that then burned in my breast?" she whispered. "Was it not thy will, thy will which had bade me guard the Wolsung? Indeed, so it seemed to me, it was thy will, and, even though it agreed not with the word that thou didst give me, was it not thy will that even then directed me against thy word?"
But though all the anger had burned out of the face of Wotan, yet was it still stern and set like a mask of marble. And when Brunnhilde had done:
"Hast thou aught more to say, my daughter?" he asked, and her silence answered him.
Then said he—
"Listen once again then, before we make an end. Love seems to thee then a light thing that thou canst turn to it so, for thou dost not know aught of its flames and its sorrows as I know them. Nor dost thou know, thou whom I thought ever to be the maiden of my will, how I myself sided against myself, and of the secret pangs and agonies that were mine. Ah, Brunnhilde, I have suffered, I have suffered; faint I have often been and wounded, and wants that I cannot quench, and wishes that I cannot bridle have brought me to this, that my will wavers. Here is the wreck of my world, here is to me a grief that will not sleep. And thou for a worldly love—and herein is thy crime—hast choked the well of my love for thee. For in that love I rested and was content, for delight and laughter have been thy food, and deep thou hast ever drunk of our love which was untainted with the human passion and hunger which now thou callest love. In that and in thee found I my solace and rest, when the strife of the gods made me bitter and of uneasy heart. For dark settles around us, and black wings of fate but dimly seen hover near. And thou, in this hour, by thine own choice, thou hast deserted and forsaken me. Thou hast chosen thine own way when my will was otherwise. Thus it is of thy own choice that our parting draws nigh, and no more may thy nature mix with mine, nor ever again shall we hold sweet converse together touching things high and great, dealing wisely with them in loving whispers. Thou thyself hast chosen; therefore must I henceforth work without thy help and communion, and while life and light endure, no more shall our hearts leap towards one another in joyous greeting."
Meantime while they talked together had the full moon of spring risen high into the night, and Brunnhilde with heart that wandered for a moment from its woes bethought herself, as she looked on the earth she so loved, that never again would she see it with eyes of sight divine. And like an echo from far off it came upon her that even now high in Walhalla were the tables for feasting set, yet all were waiting till Wotan should come. Soon he would come, but sorrowful and alone, and all would see that her place was empty for aye, and that another filled the wine-cup and handed to the heroes the joy of the grape. All this she was to leave, and her untamed heart once more bid her make a last effort, to see if not even now could she not turn Wotan from his purpose. For at the first the doom had so stunned her that she could not believe it was for her, but now under the calm and sweet night that unreality of horror began to take shape, and it was then no phantom. So once more she turned to him.
"Worthless hast thou found me and foolish," she said, "and altogether unprofitable. For the word which thou didst give me I scarce could believe was thine. Yet what of the years that went before, when all thy teaching to me was to love what thou lovest?"
But Wotan answered not, nor was his face moved, and again, in agony of the loneliness that was coming on her, she embraced his knees and cried to him—
"Is it so, then? Are we parted utterly, and shall our joyous meetings be seen no more? For lo! thou dividest that which is one and undivisible, and tearest away with a stroke a part of thine own self, yea, thine own heart thou easiest aside. Ah, father, great father, forget not that this, this maid of thine, was part of thyself, her life thine, her all, thine. But now thou cuttest it off, thou thrustest me from thee, and if that must be, is it not enough? But wilt thou desecrate this part of thee further, and shame it as thou hast said? That shame thou thyself wilt share. The fault was mine, but if thou doest as thou hast said, making me the toy of men and food for their sport and laughter, what a fall is there. And my fall is thine also."
Then answered he: "Thou hast chosen love to be thy master, and love thou hast lightly followed like some feathered line. It is fit then that thou follow the man who brings love to thee."
Then at the thought that she might fall a victim to some coward and craven fellow, some bloodless braggart, again she besought him that at the least he would promise her that the man who should win her might be worthy of her, a man of deeds and of bravery, even as her own bravery he knew was matchless, and her own deeds many. For great was her fall even so, since for the blisses of Walhalla, and the endless joys of sharing in her father's work and wisdom, she walked the earth, the wife of a man. But if such man was a coward and the scorn of men, the doom was not to be borne.
But Wotan's face was marble still, and he said only that she had turned from him, nor could he make choice for her any more.
Then since he might not choose for her, Brunnhilde made choice, if so be that her choice found favour in his eyes, and she said—
"There lives on earth, father, the race which thou thyself didst beget, and of that blood, since it is thine, can never a coward be born. And not far off is the day, when from that race shall be born the noblest hero that the world shall ever know. Him name I, of the Wolsung blood."
Then again there was anger in Wotan's eyes as he answered—
"Speak to me not of Wolsungs," said he, "for from them as from thee, and in the self-same hour, I have parted and withdrawn myself, and my love no longer goes before them, but hard after them follows and shall follow my hate. Already by it have they been hunted even to the death."
Then did Brunnhilde, that nothing should be concealed between them, tell him that by her hand was Sieglinde safe, the mighty mother of a man that should be, in whose veins ran the pure Wolsung blood, for Wolsung would be alike his father and his mother. And though Sieglinde fled in fear, yet in the appointed months would she bring forth him whom to save she fled. Moreover Sieglinde bore with her, for she herself had given it, the sword which heir father Wotan had granted Siegmund to find.
But when that sword was named, Wotan frowned and was afresh displeased, for in this had he sided against himself, and bitterness lurked in the thought.
"Broken is the blade thereof," he cried, "for against my spear which none may withstand was it shattered, and who shall make good such a shivering? So speak not to me of swords. But now thy time has come, and though I have heard thee very patiently, for the love I bore thee, yet thou seest that it is but vain to seek to sway my mind from its course. So abide the lot which has fallen to thee, nor indeed have I the power to change it, for thou thyself didst prefer the love of man to the love of Wotan, and what thou hast done abides. Thy time has come, and I must linger here with thee no longer, for already I have lingered too long. Here for the first time and the last must I turn from thee, even as from me thou hast turned. Nor may I learn what thou wishest, or knowing, may not perform. Thy woe must I see fulfilled and accomplished."
"Then name it once again," said she, "that I may hear my sentence."
And Wotan answered very solemnly—
"Here seal I thine eyes and thy limbs in deep sleep," said he, "and sleep thou shalt, till some one of the sons of men passes by and wakes thee. His wife shalt thou be, by right of finding."
Then Brunnhilde the Valkyrie spake for the last time, and she fell on her knees before the god.
"I rebel not, nor murmur," said she, "and let the word thou hast spoken be done unto me. I seek not to alter aught, but in thy love grant me yet this. Grant me this, ere the bands of sleep press down my eyelids and swathe my limbs, that thou wilt establish round my resting-place some terror and hindrance that will affright the coward and the falterer, so that none such comes near me. Let him who wins me be at least some hero of might, man, yet not coward, for how could Brunnhilde mate with such? Let it be such a coming I wait, and here unmurmuring will I fall asleep on this height until he who comes awakes me. Ah, father, father, grant me this boon, and forbid it not, else with thy deathless spear strike at me now, even as I cling to thy knee. Blot me out and trample on me, and let the winds scatter me over the mountain-side, or the beasts devour me. Better were that than to wither in the arms of a coward so leave me not unfenced against the approach of the worm and the spider among men. So shall thy word be fulfilled, and so shall I be saved from the nameless horror. O bid fire to be kindled and ring me round, and let the red tower of flame make battlement and ward for me on this rock. Set here fierce tongues to affright the boaster, and let the hot breath of the flame drive off the empty braggart, who fears to face the roaring of its rage. Grant me this. It is finished."
Then for a long space did Wotan gaze into her beseeching eyes, and thought within himself of all the beautiful days they had spent together, which now were over and numbered with the unreturning dead, and long he thought of the love they had ever had the one to the other until the day of her disobedience, and a mildness came over his almighty eyes, and he was fain to grant this boon to her, for in no way thus would his word be broken. Then tenderly he raised her from where she knelt, and once more his arm was round her neck, and her breath soft and sweet swelled and made full the bosom that beat close to his. So gazed she for the last time into his eyes, and when for the last time she heard his voice, it was tender and full of love, and all anger had gone from it as utterly as the spent storms had gone from the sky, and she knew that her boon was granted to her.