alhalla bathed in the glow of the setting sun. From
their feet stretches a luminous rainbow across the valley to the
castle, while out from the disappearing storm comes the sweet rainbow
melody. Froh sings, "Though built lightly it looks, fast and fit is
the bridge." The gods are filled with delight, but Wotan gloomily
contemplates the castle as the curse of the ring recurs to him. At
last a new thought comes in his mind. The hero who will make
reparation is to come from the new race of mortals of his own
begetting. The thought appears in the sword motive, and as its stately
melody dies away, Wotan rouses from his contemplation and hails
Walhalla with joy as "a shelter from shame and harm." He takes Fricka
by the hand, and leading the way, followed by Froh, Freia, Donner, and
Loge, the last somewhat reluctantly, the gods pass over the rainbow
bridge and enter Walhalla bathed in the light of the setting sun and
accompanied by the strains of a majestic march. During their passage
the plaintive song of the Rhine-daughters mourning their gold comes up
from the depths. Wotan pauses a moment and inquires the meaning of the
sounds, and bids Loge send a message to them that the treasure shall
"gleam no more for the maids." Then they pass laughingly and mockingly
on through the splendor to Walhalla. The sad song still rises from the
depths of the Rhine, but it is overpowered by the strains of the
march, and pealing music from the castle. The curtain falls upon their
laments, and the triumphant entrance of the gods into their new home.

DIE WALKUERE.

In "The Valkyrie," properly the first part of the cyclus, the human
drama begins. Strong races of men have come into existence, and
Wotan's Valkyres watch over them, leading those who fall in battle to
Walhalla, where, in the gods' companionship, they are to pass a
glorious life. According to the original legend, Wotan blessed an
unfruitful marriage of this race by giving the pair an apple of Hulda
to eat, and the twins, Siegmund and Sieglinde, were the result of the
union. When the first act opens, Siegmund has already taken a wife and
Sieglinde has married the savage warrior Hunding, but neither marriage
has been fruitful. It is introduced with an orchestral prelude
representing a storm. The pouring of the rain is audible among the
violins and the rumbling of the thunder in the deep basses. The
curtain rises, disclosing the interior of a rude hut, its roof
supported by the bra