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Siegfried & The Twilight of the Gods. The Ring of the Niblung, part 2
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WANDERER [Pleasantly.
How well thou knowest
And namest the race!
Rogue, I see thou art clever.
The foremost question
Thou hast solved;
The second answer me, dwarf.
A crafty Niblung
Shelters Siegfried,
Hoping he will slay Fafner,
That the dwarf may be lord of the hoard,
The ring being his.
Say, what sword,
If Fafner to fall is,
Must be by Siegfried swung?
MIME
[Forgetting his present situation more and more, rubs his hands joyfully.
Nothung is
The name of the sword;
Into an ash-tree's stem
Wotan struck it;
One only might bear it:
He who could draw it forth.
The strongest heroes
Tried it and failed;
Only by Siegmund
Was it done;
Well he fought with the sword
Till on Wotan's spear it was split.
By a crafty smith
Are the fragments kept,
For he knows that alone
With the Wotan sword
A brave and foolish boy,
Siegfried, can slay the foe.
[Much pleased.
A second time
My head have I saved?
WANDERER [Laughing.
The wisest of wise ones
Thou must be, surely;
Who else could so clever be!
But wouldst thou by craft
Employ the boy-hero
As instrument of thy purpose,
With 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.
How well thou knowest
And namest the race!
Rogue, I see thou art clever.
The foremost question
Thou hast solved;
The second answer me, dwarf.
A crafty Niblung
Shelters Siegfried,
Hoping he will slay Fafner,
That the dwarf may be lord of the hoard,
The ring being his.
Say, what sword,
If Fafner to fall is,
Must be by Siegfried swung?
MIME
[Forgetting his present situation more and more, rubs his hands joyfully.
Nothung is
The name of the sword;
Into an ash-tree's stem
Wotan struck it;
One only might bear it:
He who could draw it forth.
The strongest heroes
Tried it and failed;
Only by Siegmund
Was it done;
Well he fought with the sword
Till on Wotan's spear it was split.
By a crafty smith
Are the fragments kept,
For he knows that alone
With the Wotan sword
A brave and foolish boy,
Siegfried, can slay the foe.
[Much pleased.
A second time
My head have I saved?
WANDERER [Laughing.
The wisest of wise ones
Thou must be, surely;
Who else could so clever be!
But wouldst thou by craft
Employ the boy-hero
As instrument of thy purpose,
With 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.
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