s
attraction is irresistible. So he watches while we hear the snarling
music associated with him; and we can feel all the old-time horror of
the malignant semi-deities of the black forests and streams and caves.
Mime and he dispute angrily: Siegfried is about to slay the dragon,
the "Wurm," and the question is who is to have the gold. The music is
all of the sort that Wagner alone after Weber could write--wild, full
at times of frenzied energy, full also, if so forced a phrase may be
permitted, of black colour--black-green made audible as was the thick
darkness that might be felt made to be felt by Handel. Anger cannot be
directly expressed in music; but these dreary snarling noises from the
orchestra and the peculiar use made of the human voice--a use to be
referred to later--enable Wagner to indicate it indirectly in a way
effective on the stage. (We may note once again the contrast between
two successive scenes--the brilliance, the straightforward vigour of
the close of Act I, and these tortuous phrases at the beginning of Act
II.) Day begins to lighten, and Siegfried enters; he reclines on a
green bank and hearkens to a bird carolling amidst the rustling
branches. He tries to imitate its notes on a reed cut with his sword,
that emits strange noises; and at last, annoyed by his lack of
success, he petulantly blows a blast on his horn. This arouses Fafner,
who grumbles and discloses his hiding-place; and presently an
extraordinary reptile, one the like of which never was on sea or land,
comes forth to destroy the intruder. Siegfried (like the ordinary
audience) seems disposed to laugh, but when the monster opens its
giant jaws and sends out flames and steam, and red lights begin to
glare in its eyes, he sees serious matters are at hand. He prepares
for combat, and the battle is terrific, if not very convincing. At
last, however, he penetrates the odd brute in a vital part; it rolls
over and makes dying prophecies; at the last it asks its conqueror's
name and, having learnt it, groans that name once and dies. Siegfried
thereupon penetrates into the cave and returns with the hoard; then he
throws himself once more upon the green bank.

If the reader thinks I treat this episode rather flippantly, let me
promptly admit that this is so. It is pantomime of the most grotesque
sort, not serious opera. The dragon would not frighten a child. The
whole thing is an artistic mistake: the fight should take place with
the beast who