quite in the strain of Tristan, though
the Scandinavian atmosphere prevails; Bruennhilda's awe-stricken song,
"O Siegfried, highest hero," interprets the birth of love in a woman's
breast with, again, absolute truth; and that the man who had lately
written _Tristan_ could write such a finale is not the least
astounding of Wagner's feats.

The Siegfried Idyll, made of the Siegfried Themes, is, in a word, the
most beautiful thing he ever wrote.

CHAPTER XVII

'THE DUSK OF THE GODS'

I

This, the last of Wagner's really great works, was composed in hot
haste for the first Bayreuth festival. True, the festival did not take
place until some time after its completion; but at the moment Wagner
anticipated an immediate performance. There is nothing more pathetic,
nothing sadder, than the picture of the mighty world-composer
struggling against petty odds to complete what might have been a
world-masterpiece, and failing because of his hurry. He was sixty
years of age; worn by constant combat; worried even then by stupid
persecutions and the uncertainties of life; and he went on, if not
joyfully, at least indomitably, unconquerably. The result is a work
gigantic in idea, but far too rapid and facile in the execution. His
pen seems to have run of its own accord; the scenes are spread out to
a length positively appalling; pages on pages show no trace of
inspiration. Yet the _Dusk of the Gods_ is an opera no other composer
could have achieved; and with all its defects it will be a high and
holy joy to generations not yet born.

The last hour of the old gods has come; the Norns spin their web on
the Valkyries' rock; it breaks, and they sink into the earth, knowing
that all is finished. Dawn breaks, and Siegfried and Bruennhilda come
out of their cavern; Siegfried must now go forth to deeds of
derring-do, for, like Lovelace, "how could he love her, dear, so much,
loved he not honour more?" She bids him go, and he goes; the flames
immediately spring up again round her dwelling--for what reason Wagner
does not explain. Neither does he explain why Bruennhilda does not
travel with her husband--the explanation is made only too obvious
afterwards. He travels to the Rhine, and there meets Hagen, Guenther
and Guenther's sister Gutruna. Hagen, the son of Alberich, is more or
less like Mime, a half-super-natural being, malignant, diabolical,
with only one idea, that of getting possession of the gold, and, above
all, of the Ring.