he raised herself and tried to
move him with her tears.

"If I am doomed to become mortal, to suffer all mortals' ills and
woes, remember still that my treason was partly for love of thee. I
knew Siegmund was dear to thee. Wilt thou not pity me a little?" Her
pleading was so mournful that Wotan at last listened to it.

"Bruennhilde, I will guard thee from the worst. Since thou must become
as mortals are, and the slave of man, I will guard thee from all but
the brave. I will enchant thee into a sleep from which only a hero can
wake thee. Fire shall surround thee, and he who would win thee must
pass through the flame." He kissed her on the eyelids which began to
droop as with sleep, and he laid her gently down upon a little mound
beneath a fir tree. He closed her helmet and laid upon her her shining
shield, which completely covered her body. Then he mounted a height.

"Loge!" he called, and struck the rock three times with his spear.
"Loge, Loge, Loge! Hear! Once I summoned thee, a flickering flame, to
be companion of the Gods. Now, I summon thee to appear and wind
thyself in wavering, dancing, fairy flame, about the fallen. Loge, I
call!"

A little flashing flame burst from a riven place. It spread, it crept,
it darted and stung; catching here, clutching there, fading, leaping,
higher, higher, higher, till all the world was wrapped in fire. The
shooting tongues drew about the God, who, stretching forth his magic
spear, directed it toward the rock on which the Valkyrie lay asleep.
The fiery sea spread round and in its midst Bruennhilde slept safely.

"He who fears my spear-point, may not cross the flame," he said,
pointing his spear toward the tomb of fire; and then, with backward
glances, the God of War passed through the flame and was seen no
more.

THE NIBELUNG RING

THIRD DAY

SIEGFRIED

CHARACTERS OF THE OPERA

Siegfried.
Alberich.
Mime.
Fafner.
The Wanderer.
Erda.
Bruennhilde.

ACT I

In a cavernous rock in the forest, hammering upon an anvil, was a
complaining Mime. As he hammered, the sparks flew from the sword which
he was forging.

"Alas!" he cried, muttering to himself, as he worked at his task;
"Alas! Here I am, day after day, trying to forge a sword which
Siegfried cannot break. I, who have made swords for giants, am yet
unable to satisfy this stripling."

At this the Mime flung the new-made sword upon the anvil with a crash,
and stood gazing thoughtfully upon the ground.

"The