al phrases are not tense and full of
character as are those in the _Valkyrie_: they seem to have been _put
in_ to fit the orchestral web. In an earlier chapter I spoke of this
weakness in the _Ring_; and from this point onward till the end of
Wagner's writing days, unless he was writing undisguised song, the
liability to this weakness increased. The over-ripeness shows itself
also in the structure of the music: the parts lack definition (as
microscopists would say). Formalism is not at all a desirable thing;
but if we examine the great works, differing widely in character,
_Tristan_, the _Mastersingers_ and the _Valkyrie_, we find the utmost
distinctness combined with perfect freedom and expressiveness. Even as
early as the Second Act of _Siegfried_ the freedom threatens to
degenerate into sloppiness--or, to put it rather more mildly, at least
into vagueness. Perhaps he felt this himself; for certainly at the end
of the act we are discussing, and often in the _Dusk of the Gods_, he
gives us straightforward song. At best his song-recitative is sublime;
at worst it is insufferably tedious.

The gorgeous journey to the mountain-top is resumed as Siegfried
disappears amongst the rocks and Wotan goes off. We are now done with
him: his last ineffectual stand for supremacy having collapsed, as he
fore-knew it would, he returns to Valhalla to await the end. There is
darkness for a while; then light returns, and we find the scene that
of the termination of the _Valkyrie_. The mountain-top is sunlit;
Bruennhilda's horse Grani is contentedly at graze; Bruennhilda, covered
with her shield, her spear by her side, sleeps, motionless. Siegfried
comes over some rocks at the back of the stage, gazes around him in
wonder, finally discovers Bruennhilda, and with a kiss awakens her. At
first the godhood has not quite gone out of her, and "Woe! woe!" she
cries, as she realises her fate. But womanhood is strong within her;
she yields; hails Siegfried as the highest hero of all the world, and
the opera ends.

The music is nearly throughout the superb Wagner. The long ascending
violin passage which accompanies Siegfried's amazed gazing at the
wonders around him, chief amongst them Bruennhilda, is imagined with
absolute truth; Bruennhilda's Greeting to the sun is Wagner in the
plenitude of his powers, blending music which depicts her outspread
arms with human rapture in an incomparable way; Siegfried's masterful
and passionate entreaties are