The Valkyries

by E. F. Benson; Richard Wagner

Then he paused a little space, and again he spoke: "No longer I speak to you Valkyries, I speak to her. Dost thou hear me, Brunnhilde? Thou whom in every part I fashioned, to whom I gave thy deathless armour, to whom I gave all the sweetness and joy of life, dost thou hear me? And hearing me, art thou, thou, Brunnhilde, afraid, that thou hidest thyself like a coward, thou, Brunnhilde, and would shrink away from the doom and punishment that I have appointed for thee? So come out, come out, and of thy own free-will!"

And when Brunnhilde, crouching among her sisters, heard the voice of her father speaking in such sort to her, him whom she knew best and loved best of all the world, all fear suddenly died in her heart, for the love that each had towards the other cast fear out, and she knew only that he called her, and she must go. And she stood up straight, and with her hands to right and left she parted the sisters who would have screened her still, and with firm step and head borne proudly, as was ever her wont, she came near to where Wotan stood and looked him in the face and spoke to him.

"Father, I am here," she said. "Make known to me what thou wiliest."

Then answered Wotan: "Not from me, Brunnhilde," he said, "comes thy fate; it is thou thyself who hast sent it. Was it not by the might of my will that thy soul first awoke in thee? Yet thou hast warred against thy own soul. It was the might of my word that made thee mighty in noble deeds, yet to my word thou hast given the lie. Thou wast ever the maiden of my will to me, and against my will hast thou gone. Thou wast the maiden who bore my shield, but against me hast thou stretched the shield forth. It was thou whom I appointed to choose the lots of life and death. Where I ordained life thou didst think to give death, where I appointed death thou didst let live. It was thou whom I appointed to lift up the hearts of heroes, yea, and thou didst lift them up against me. I tell thee all that thou wert; but by what name thou shouldest now be called, thou knowest thyself. No more art thou the maiden of my will, but maiden only, and as Valkyrie thou hast gone on thy last errand. From henceforth thou art that which thou hast made thyself; thou metest out thy own punishment, and it is just."

Then did it seem to Brunnhilde that she could have borne all else but only this, that she should be thus parted from her father, and her heart was stricken.

"Dost thou so cast me from thee?" she said. "Canst thou think to do such a thing?"

"Thou sayest it," said he, "and thou art outcast from me utterly. Never again from Walhalla shalt thou storm forth at my bidding on thy joyous errands, nor ever again shall I show to thee the heroes thou shalt fight and slay, guiding their souls at eventide to my halls, there to make merry at the joyful feastings of the gods. Nor ever again when the mirth grows louder, deep into the night, shalt thou hand me the wine-cup, nor again shall our souls mingle in the sweet caresses of father and daughter as was our wont. For out of the company of gods thou art taken, and thy place shall know thee no more, and thou, that fair flower-bud that grew so strong and sweet on the abiding stem of my godhead, art nipped off and cast away. For the bond between us is broken, and for ever art thou banished from before my face, and out of the light of mine eyes."

Then began the sisters all to weep and to wail, for like Wotan they loved her, and with words of pity they called on her by name, and bitterly they lamented themselves. But among them all Brunnhilde stood dry-eyed and firm. Nought said she to vainly try to turn his mind, she wished but to learn her uttermost doom.

"Then is all, all that thou hast given me, utterly lost to me?" she said. "Of all thy gifts dost thou strip me? Is all lost to me?"

"Yea, and it is lost to me," said Wotan, "for from the life and light of the gods thou passest. Here shalt thou abide, even here, and deep sleep shall wrap thee round, and thou shalt be alone and without protector, until the day come that some man, a wayfarer, passing here shall see a maid lying alone, and shall come to her and wake her, and she shall be his. Maiden only thou art, not maiden of my will, and to maid, as is fit, comes man."