"What dost thou seek, thou who comest up from below?"
"Wie scheint im Schimmer
Ihr hell und schön
Wie gern umschlänge
Der schlanken eine mein Arm
Schlüpfte hold sie herab!"
"Nun lach ich der Furcht
Der Feind ist verliebt."
And the frolicsome undines dive from the rocks, pursuing, enticing, tempting the ardent dwarf, who, in a passionate fury, leaps from rock to rock, trying to catch one or another. But the elusive maidens always evade him, slipping away, and as he falls back, breathless and angry, the clear notes of their mocking laughter float back to him.
But to-day, in the pleasure of reviving these memories, I must not fall into the error of describing the Rheingold. When I first heard it in Munich in the solemn stillness of the dark theatre, it was like the virgin metal gleaming in the sunlight at the summit, of the rock, for the first time revealed to the world, while now, like gold which has passed through the mint, it is known to all.
This first part of the Tetralogy, which is the prologue, was not divided into acts. Its four tableaux were given without interruption. The scenes were shifted in full view of the audience to the accompaniment of the orchestra. The performance lasted for more than two hours, and yet, even at this first hearing when all the faculties of attention were taxed to the utmost, one did not experience any fatigue; the architectural outline of the drama was so simple and clear cut, the music evoked with so much certainty the different phases, or so to speak, the elementaries of the work, and individualized them in themes and rhythms of such extraordinary beauty.
Only one passage seemed to me difficult to understand, the one where Wotan, in the face of the treasure forged by the Nibelungen which he has just ravished from them, is, according to the text, "struck by a high thought." At this moment is heard for the first and only time, the "Leit-motif" of the sword, that sword called "Nothung" which is to play such an important role in the following works, but which, when the theme enters which symbolises it, is not designated by any phrase or gesture. Liszt, whom I questioned about it, agreed with me that here was an obscurity, and that Wagner would have noticed it if he had been present at the rehearsals. Later, I spoke to the Master himself with regard to this point, and he remarked that the observation was a very just one, and that he would take advantage of it. After that, a sword was added to the treasure of the Nibelungen; Wotan discovered and brandished it at the moment when the theme was introduced.
We were all carried away by enthusiasm when the Gods, walking across the valley on the rainbow, entered Walhalla and the curtain fell. Richter, flushed with emotion, was surrounded, acclaimed. Liszt embraced and complimented him warmly. The singers were also praised, and the musicians of the orchestra who had so admirably fulfilled their glorious task.
After having escorted Liszt to his carriage, still filled with elation that was not to be calmed we set out, all together, to take possession of the Café Maximilian. Instead of ordering supper, we asked for pens and paper, and each one of us wrote to Richard Wagner, expressing to him all the admiration and delight which his new masterpiece had inspired in us, and thanking him for having accorded us the great favour of hearing it before the general public, and even alas, before he himself had heard it.