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Siegfried & The Twilight of the Gods. The Ring of the Niblung, part 2. Рихард ВагнерЧитать онлайн книгу.

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


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has sat down a little way off, watches Siegfried at work.

      Why file it to bits?

      There is the solder

      All fused, ready to hand.

      SIEGFRIED

      Off with the pap,

      I need it not;

      With paste I fashion no sword!

      MIME

      Now the file is ruined,

      The rasp is useless;

      Why grind thus the steel to splinters?

      SIEGFRIED

      It must be shivered

      And ground into shreds;

      Only so can splinters be patched.

      [He goes on filing with great energy.

      MIME [Aside.

      I see a craftsman

      Is useless here;

      By his own folly the fool is best served.

      Look how he toils

      With lusty strokes;

      The steel disappears,

      And still he keeps cool.

      [Siegfried has blown the fire to a bright flame.

      Though I am as old

      As cave and wood,

      The like I never yet saw!

      [While Siegfried continues to file the piece of the sword impetuously, Mime seats himself a little further off.

      He will forge the sword—

      I see it plain—

      Boldly weld it anew.

      The Wanderer was right.

      Where shall I hide

      My luckless head?

      If nothing teaches him fear,

      Forfeit it falls to the boy.

      [Springing up and bending down in growing agitation.

      But woe to Mime!

      If Siegfried learn fear,

      The dragon will never be slain;

      And, if so, how gain the ring?

      Accurst dilemma!

      Would I escape,

      I must find out some way

      Of subduing the boy for myself.

      SIEGFRIED

      [Has now filed down the pieces, and puts the filings in a crucible, which he places on the fire.

      Hey, Mime! The name!—

      Quick, name the sword

      That I have pounded to pieces.

      MIME [Starts and turns towards Siegfried.

      Nothung, that is

      The name of the sword;

      'Twas mother told me the tale.

      SIEGFRIED

      [During the following song keeps blowing the fire with the bellows.

      Nothung! Nothung!

      Conquering sword!

      What blow, I wonder, broke thee.

      Thy keen-edged glory

      I chopped to chaff;

      The splinters now I am melting.

      Hoho! Hoho!

      Hohei! Hohei! Hoho!

      Bellows blow!

      Brighten the flame!

      In the woods

      A tree grew wild;

      It fell, by my hand hewn down.

      The brown-stemmed ash

      To charcoal I burned;

      Now it lies heaped high on the hearth.

      Hoho! Hoho!

      Hohei! Hohei! Hoho!

      Bellows blow!

      Brighten the flame!

      How bravely, brightly

      The charcoal burns!

      How clear and fair its fire!

      With showering sparks

      It leaps and glows,—

      Hohei! Hoho! Hohei!—

      Dissolving the splintered steel!

      Hoho! Hoho!

      Hohei! Hohei! Hoho!

      Bellows, blow!

      Brighten the flame!

      Hoho! Hoho!

      Hoho, hohei! Hohei!

      Nothung! Nothung!

      Conquering sword!

      Thy steel chopped to chaff is fused;

      In thine own sweat

      Thou swimmest now,

      [He pours the glowing contents of the crucible into a mould, which he holds up.

      But soon my sword thou shalt be!

      MIME

      [During the pauses in Siegfried's song, still aside, sitting at a distance.

      The sword he will forge

      And vanquish Fafner,

      So much I can clearly foresee;

      Hoard and ring

      The victor will have;

      How to win them both for myself!

      By wit and wiles

      They shall be captured,

      And safe shall be my head.

      [In the foreground, still aside.

      After the fight, when athirst,

      For a cooling draught he will crave;

      Of fragrant juices

      Gathered from herbs

      The draught I will brew for him.

      Let him drink but a drop,

      And in slumber

      Softly lapped he shall lie:

      With the very sword

      That he fashioned to serve him

      He shall be cleared from my way,

      And treasure and ring made mine.

      [He rubs his hands with satisfaction.

      Ha! dull didst hold me,

      Wanderer wise!

      Does my subtle scheming

      Please thee now?

      Have I found

      A path to peace?

      [He springs up joyfully, fetches several vessels, shakes spices and herbs from them into a pot, and tries to put it on the hearth.

      SIEGFRIED

      [Has plunged the mould into a pail of water. Steam and loud hissing ensue as it cools.

      In the water flowed

      A


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