me, Siegfried! Tell me, you soul of courage,
have you learned fear?" "Not yet have I found the teacher!" "But
the Serpent-Worm which you slew, a fearsome fellow, was he not?"
"Grim and malignant though he were, his death verily grieves me,
since miscreants of deeper dye still live at large. The one who bade
me murder him, I hate more than the dragon!" Mime to all appearance
takes these words as if they carried no offence. What he thinks
he is saying in reply we know not; but this is what, spoken in a
voice of tenderest affection, Siegfried hears: "Gently now! Not
much longer shall you see me. I shall soon close your eyes for their
eternal sleep. That which I needed you for you have accomplished;
all I wish, now, is to wrest from you the treasure. I believe I shall
effect this with small trouble. You know you are not difficult to
befool!" "So you are meditating harm to me?" Siegfried asks quietly.
Mime starts in amazement. "Did I say anything of the sort?"

Then again, in accents sickly-sweet, with the writhings and grimaces
of an excessive affection: "Siegfried, listen, my son! You and the
like of you I have always hated from my very heart. Out of love
I did not rear you, burdensome nuisance. The trouble I took was
for the sake of the treasure in Fafner's keeping. If you do not
give it to me willingly, Siegfried, my son, it must be plain even
to yourself, you will have to leave me your life!" This formal and
direct declaration of hate, proving the justice of his instinctive
dislike all along of Mime, calls forth from Siegfried's relief
even in this moment the exclamation: "That you hate me, I gladly
hear!" Mime, while giving himself visibly all the pains in the
world to disguise from Siegfried his intentions, to each of the
youth's questions answers, in the supposition that he is telling
his lies, the exact truth. Thus Siegfried learns that the drink
Mime has prepared for his refreshment will plunge him into deep
sleep, upon which, for greater security in his enjoyment of the
treasure, Mime will with Nothung cut off his head. The little monster
chuckles genially while making these revelations. As Mime reaches
him the treacherous drink, Siegfried, moved by an impulse of
overpowering disgust, with a sudden swift blow of Nothung strikes
him down. Alberich's laugh of glee and derision rings out from
his hiding-place.

After gazing for a moment at the body of the repulsive little
traitor,--with the after-thought, it is po