The second division of the tragedy, "Siegfried," might well be called an idyl, of the forest. Its music is full of joyousness and delight. In place of the struggles of gods and combats of fierce warriors, the wild cries of Valkyres and the blendings of human passions with divine angers, we have the repose and serenity of nature, and in the midst of it all appears the hero Siegfried, true child of the woods, and as full of wild joyousness and exultant strength as one of their fauns or satyrs. It is a wonderful picture of nature, closing with an ecstatic, vision of love.
After the death of Siegmund, Sieglinde takes refuge in the depths of the forest, where she gives birth to Siegfried. In her dying moments she intrusts him to Mime, who forged the ring for Alberich when he obtained possession of the Rhinegold. The young hero has developed into a handsome, manly stripling, who dominates the forests and holds its wild animals subject to his will. He calls to the birds and they answer him. He chases the deer with leaps as swift as their own. He seizes the bear and drags him into Mime's hut, much to the Nibelung's alarm. But while pursuing the wild, free life in the forest, he has dreams of greater conquests than those over nature. Heroic deeds shape themselves in his mind, and sometimes they are illuminated with dim and mysterious visions of a deeper passion. In his interviews with Mime he questions him about the world outside of the forest, its people and their actions. He tires of the woods, and longs to get away from them. Mime then shows him the fragments of his father's sword, which had been shattered upon Wotan's spear, the only legacy left her son by Sieglinde, and tells him that he who can weld them together again will have power to conquer all before him. Mime had long tried to forge a sword for Siegfried, but they were all too brittle, nor had he the skill to weld together the fragments of Siegmund's sword, Nothung. The only one who can perform that task is the hero without fear. One day Siegfried returns from a hunting expedition and undertakes it himself. He files the fragments into dust and throws it into the crucible, which he places on the fire of the forge. Then while blowing the bellows he sings a triumphant song ("Nothung! Nothung! neidliches Schwert"), which anticipates the climax towards which all the previous scenes have led. As he sings at his work Mime cogitates how he shall thwart his plans and get possession of the sword. He plots to have him kill Fafner, the giant, who has changed himself into a dragon, for the more effectual custody of the Rhine-treasure and the ring. Then when Siegfried has captured the treasure he will drug him with a poisoned broth, kill him with the sword, and seize the gold. Siegfried pours the melted steel into a mould, thrusts it into the water to cool, and then bursts out into a new song, accompanied by anvil blows, as he forges and tempers it, the motive of which has already been heard in the "Rhinegold" prelude, when Alberich made his threat. While Mime quietly mixes his potion, Siegfried fastens the hilt to his blade and polishes the sword. Then breaking out in a new song, in which are heard the motives of the fire-god and the sword, he swings it through the air, and bringing it down with force splits the anvil in twain. The music accompanying this great scene, imitating the various sounds of the forge, the flutter of the fire, the hissing of the water, the filing of the sword, and the blows upon the anvil, is realism carried to the very extreme of possibilities.
The great exploit has been successful, and Siegfried at last has Siegmund's sword. Mime takes him to the cave where Fafner, the giant-dragon, guards the gold. Siegfried slays the monster, and laughs over the ease of the task. His finger is heated with the dragon's blood, and as he puts it to his lips to cool it he tastes the blood, and thus learns the language of the birds. He cares nought for the treasure, and takes only the ring and a magic helmet, which enables the wearer to assume any form. After the contest he throws himself at the foot of a tree in the forest and dreamily listens to the "Waldweben," the rustle and mysterious stirrings of the woods. Amid all these subtle, soothing sounds, pierced now and then with the songs of the birds, and distant cries in far-away sylvan recesses, he realizes that he is alone, while his old companions of the woods are together. He thinks of the mother whom he has never known, and of that mysterious being whom he has never seen, who should make the companionship he observes among the birds. The passion of love begins to assert itself vaguely and strangely, but full soon it will glow out with ardent flame. A bird flying over his head sings to him. He can understand its song and fancies it his mother's voice coming to him in the bird-notes. It tells him now he has the treasure, he should save the most beautiful of women and win her to himself. "She sleeps upon a rock, encircled with flames; but shouldst thou dare to break through them, the warrior-virgin is thine." The bird wings its flight through the forest, and Siegfried, joyously seizing his sword, follows it with swift foot, for he knows it is guiding him to Bruennhilde. The time for great deeds has come. The wild, free life of the forest is over.
The third act once more shows us the god Wotan still plunged in gloom. Gazing into a deep abyss, he summons Erda, who knows the destiny of all the world, to question her again as to the twilight of the gods. The mysterious figure appears at his bidding, but has nothing further to communicate. Their doom is certain. The fearless race of men is destined to efface the gods, and Walhalla must disappear. The hero is at hand, and coming rapidly. The despairing Wotan, who appears in this scene as "Der Wanderer" (the wanderer), cries out, "So be it. It is to this end I aspire." He turns gloomily away, and confronts Siegfried bounding from rock to rock like a deer, still following his airy guide. The god angrily tries to bar his way, but in vain. His lance is shattered at a single blow of the sword Nothung, which he himself had once so easily shivered. It is the first catastrophe of the final fate which is approaching. The hero without fear has come, the free will of man has begun to manifest itself. The power of the gods is breaking. Joyously Siegfried rushes on over the rocks. He is soon bathed in the glow of the fire, which casts weird shadows through the wild glen. Now the burning wall of red flames is before him. With a ringing cry of exultation he dashes through them, and before him lies the sleeping maiden in her glistening armor. Mad with her beauty and his own overpowering passion, he springs to her side and wakes her with a kiss. The Volsung and the Valkyr gaze at each other a long time in silence. Bruennhilde strives to comprehend her situation, and to recall the events that led up to her penalty, while love grows within her for the hero who has rescued her, and Siegfried is transfixed by the majesty of the maiden. As she comes to herself and fully realizes who is the hero before her and foresees the approaching doom, she earnestly appeals to him:--
"Leave, ah, leave,
Leave me unlost,
Force on me not
Thy fiery nearness.
Shiver me not
With thy shattering will,
And lay me not waste in thy love."
What is preordained cannot be changed. Siegfried replies with growing passion, and Bruennhilde at last yields, and the two join in an outburst of exultant song:--
"Away, Walhalla,
In dust crumble
Thy myriad towers.
Farewell, greatness,
And gift of the gods.
You, Norns, unravel
The rope of runes.
Darken upwards,
Dusk of the gods.
Night of annulment,
Draw near with thy cloud.
I stand in sight
Of Siegfried's star.
For me he was,
And for me he will ever be."
With this great duet, which is one of the most extraordinary numbers in the trilogy for dramatic power and musical expression of human emotion, this division closes.
