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The Rhinegold & The Valkyrie. The Ring of the Niblung, part 1
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What ails the high, happy Gods?
[A pale mist, gradually increasing in density, fills the stage. Seen through it the Gods look more and more wan and aged. All stand in dismay and apprehension regarding Wotan, whose eyes are fixed broodingly on the ground.
LOGE
Does a mist mock me?
Tricks me a dream?
Dismayed and wan,
How swiftly ye fade!
Lo! the bloom forsakes your cheeks,
And quenched is the light of your eyes!
Courage, Froh!
Day's but begun!
From thy hand, Donner,
The hammer is falling!
And why frets Fricka?
Sees she with sorrow
That Wotan's hair, growing grey,
Has made him gloomy and old?
FRICKA
Woe's me! Woe's me!
What does it mean?
The Gods grow wan and aged at the loss of Freia.
DONNER
My hand sinks down.
FROH
My heart stands still.
LOGE
I have it: hear what ye lack!
Of Freia's fruit
Ye have not partaken to-day.
The golden apples
Within her garden
Restored you your strength and your youth,
Ate ye thereof each day.
The garden's guardian
In pledge has been given.
On the branches dries
And droops the fruit,
To drop soon and decay.
My loss is lighter,
For still did Freia,
Stingy to me,
Stint the delectable fruit.
Not half as godlike
Am I, ye high ones, as you!
[Freely, but quickly and harshly.
But ye trusted solely
To the fruit that makes young,
As well both the giants wist.
Your life they played for,
Plotted to take;
Contrive so that they fail.
Lacking the apples,
Old and worn,
Grey and weary,
Wasting, the scoff of the world,
The Gods must pine and pass.
FRICKA [Anxiously
Wotan, alas!
Unhappy man!
See what thy laughing
Lightness has brought us—
Scoff and scorn for all!
WOTAN [Coming to a sudden resolve, starts up.
Up, Loge,
And follow me!
To Nibelheim hastening downward,
I go in search of the gold.
LOGE
The Rhine-daughters
Thy aid invoked:
Not vainly they hoped for thy help then?
WOTAN [Angrily.
Fool, be silent!
Freia, the fair one—
Freia's ransom we go for.
LOGE
[A pale mist, gradually increasing in density, fills the stage. Seen through it the Gods look more and more wan and aged. All stand in dismay and apprehension regarding Wotan, whose eyes are fixed broodingly on the ground.
LOGE
Does a mist mock me?
Tricks me a dream?
Dismayed and wan,
How swiftly ye fade!
Lo! the bloom forsakes your cheeks,
And quenched is the light of your eyes!
Courage, Froh!
Day's but begun!
From thy hand, Donner,
The hammer is falling!
And why frets Fricka?
Sees she with sorrow
That Wotan's hair, growing grey,
Has made him gloomy and old?
FRICKA
Woe's me! Woe's me!
What does it mean?
The Gods grow wan and aged at the loss of Freia.
DONNER
My hand sinks down.
FROH
My heart stands still.
LOGE
I have it: hear what ye lack!
Of Freia's fruit
Ye have not partaken to-day.
The golden apples
Within her garden
Restored you your strength and your youth,
Ate ye thereof each day.
The garden's guardian
In pledge has been given.
On the branches dries
And droops the fruit,
To drop soon and decay.
My loss is lighter,
For still did Freia,
Stingy to me,
Stint the delectable fruit.
Not half as godlike
Am I, ye high ones, as you!
[Freely, but quickly and harshly.
But ye trusted solely
To the fruit that makes young,
As well both the giants wist.
Your life they played for,
Plotted to take;
Contrive so that they fail.
Lacking the apples,
Old and worn,
Grey and weary,
Wasting, the scoff of the world,
The Gods must pine and pass.
FRICKA [Anxiously
Wotan, alas!
Unhappy man!
See what thy laughing
Lightness has brought us—
Scoff and scorn for all!
WOTAN [Coming to a sudden resolve, starts up.
Up, Loge,
And follow me!
To Nibelheim hastening downward,
I go in search of the gold.
LOGE
The Rhine-daughters
Thy aid invoked:
Not vainly they hoped for thy help then?
WOTAN [Angrily.
Fool, be silent!
Freia, the fair one—
Freia's ransom we go for.
LOGE
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