elling
of the gods is coming into sight, seems to build a castle: story
above story it rises, topped with gleaming pinnacles, one, lighter
and taller than all the rest, piercing the clouds.

In the foreground lie sleeping side by side, on a flowery bank,
the god and goddess Wotan and Fricka.

He lies dreaming happily of the abode from which the world is to
be commanded by him, to the display of immeasurable power and his
eternal honour. His wife's sleep is less easy. For the situation
is not as free from complications as his untroubled slumbers might
lead one to suppose. Wotan has employed to build him this stronghold
the giants Fasolt and Fafner, formerly his enemies, but bound to
peace by treaties, and has promised them the reward stipulated
for, Freia, goddess of beauty and youth, sister of Fricka. And this
he has done without any serious thought of keeping his word. "_Nie
sann es ernstlich mein Sinn_," he assures Fricka, when, starting in
dismay from her sleep and beholding the completed burg, she reminds
him that the time is come for payment, and asks what shall they do.
Loge, he enlightens her, counselled the compact and promised to
find the means of evading it. He relies upon him to do so. This calm
frankness in the god, with its effect of personal clearness from
all sense of guilt, suggests the measure of Wotan's distinguishing
simplicity. Referring later to the dubious act which so effectually
laid the foundation of sorrows, he says, "Unknowingly deceitful, I
practised untruth. Loge artfully tempted me." He explains himself
to Fricka, when she asks why he continues to trust the crafty Loge,
who has often already brought them into straits: "Where frank courage
is sufficient, I ask counsel of no one. But slyness and cunning
are needed to turn to advantage the ill-will of adversaries, and
that is the talent of Loge."

Strong and calm is Wotan; music of might and august beauty, large
music, supports everyone of his utterances. There is no departure
from this, even when his signal fallibility is in question. Waftures
of Walhalla most commonly accompany his steps; the close of his
speech is frequently marked by the sturdy motif of his spear, the
spear inseparable from him, cut by him from the World-Ash, carved
with runes establishing the bindingness of compacts, by aid of
which he had conquered the world, subdued the giants, the Nibelungs,
and Loge, the Spirit of Fire.

Athirst for power he is, before all: in t