Now answer aright:
Tell me what race
Dwells above in the clouds.
WANDERER
Above in the clouds
Dwell the Immortals;
Walhall is their home.
They are light-spirits;
Light-Alberich,
Wotan, rules as their lord.
From the world-ash-tree's
Holiest bough once
Wotan made him a shaft.
Though the stem rot,
The spear shall endure,
And with that spear-point
Wotan rules the world.
Trustworthy runes
Of holy treaties
Deep in the shaft he cut.
Who wields the spear
Carried by Wotan
The haft of the world
Holds in his hand.
Before him kneels
The Nibelung host;
The giants, tamed,
Bow to his will.
All must obey, and for ever,
The spear's eternal lord.
[He strikes the ground with the spear as if by accident, and a low growl of thunder is heard, by which Mime is violently alarmed.
Confess now, cunning dwarf,
Are not my answers right,
And is not my head redeemed?
MIME
[After attentively watching the Wanderer with the spear, becomes very frightened, seeks in a confused manner for his tools, and looks timidly aside.
Both thou hast won,
Wager and head;
Thy way now, Wanderer, go.
WANDERER
Knowledge useful to thee
Thou wert to ask for;
Forfeit my head if I failed.
Forfeit be thine,
Knowest thou not
The thing it would serve thee to know.
Greeting thou
Gavest me not;
My head into thy hand
I gave
That I might rest by thy hearth.
By wager fair
Forfeit thy head,
Canst thou not answer
Three things when asked;
So sharpen well, Mime, thy wits!
MIME
[Very much frightened, and after much hesitation, at last composes himself with timid submission.
Long it is
Since I left my land;
Long it seems to me
Since I was born.
I saw here the eye of Wotan
Shine, peering into my cave;
His glance dazes
My mother-wit.
But well were it now to be wise.
Come then, Wanderer, ask.
Perhaps fortune will favour
The dwarf, and redeem his head.
WANDERER [Comfortably sitting down again.
Then first, honest dwarf,
Answer this question:
Tell the name of the race
That Wotan treats most harshly,
[Very softly, but audibly.
And yet loves beyond all the rest.
MIME [With more cheerfulness.
Though unlearnèd
In heroes' kinship,
This question I answer with ease.
The Wälsungs are Wotan's
Chosen stock,
By him begotten
And loved with passion,
Though they are shown no grace.
Siegmund and Sieglinde
Born were to Wälse,
A wild and desperate
Twin-born pair;
Siegfried had they as son,
The strongest shoot from the tree.
My head, say, is it
Still, Wanderer, mine?
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