fly,Like the wind o'er the wood
Wafted away,
Thee, Mime, beholding no more!
[He runs into the forest.
MIME [Greatly alarmed.
Stop, boy! Stop, boy!
Whither away?
Hey! Siegfried!
Siegfried! Hey!
[He looks after the retreating figure for some time in astonishment; then he goes back to the smithy and sits down behind the anvil.
He storms away!
And I sit here:
To crown my cares
Comes still this new one;
My plight is piteous indeed!
How help myself now?
How hold the boy here?
How lead the young madcap
To Fafner's lair?
And how weld the splinters
Of obstinate steel?
In no furnace fire
Can they be melted,
Nor can Mime's hammer
Cope with their hardness.
[Shrilly.
The Nibelung's hate,
Need and sweat
Cannot make Nothung whole,
Never will weld it anew.
[Sobbing, he sinks in despair on to a stool behind the anvil.
WANDERER (WOTAN)
[Enters from the wood by the door at the back of the cave. He wears a long dark blue cloak, and, for staff, carries a spear. On his head is a round, broad-brimmed slouched hat.
All hail, cunning smith!
A seat by thy hearth
Kindly grant
The wayworn guest.
MIME [Starting up in alarm.
Who seeks for me here
In desolate woods,
Finds my home in the forest wild?
WANDERER [Approaching very slowly step by step.
Wanderer names me the world, smith.
From far I have come;
On the earth's back ranging,
Much I have roamed.
MIME
If Wanderer named,
Pray wander from here
Without halting for rest.
WANDERER
Good men grudge me not welcome;
Many gifts I have received.
By bad hearts only
Is evil feared.
MIME
Ill fate always
Dwelt by my side;
Thou wouldst not add to it, surely!
WANDERER [Slowly coming nearer and nearer.
Always searching,
Much have I seen;
Things of weight
Have told to many;
Oft have rid men
Of their troubles,
Gnawing and carking cares.
MIME
Though thou hast searched,
And though much thou hast found,
I need neither seeker nor finder.
Lonely am I,
And lone would be;
Idlers I harbour not here.
WANDERER [Again coming a little nearer.
There were many
Thought they were wise,
Yet what they needed
Knew not at all;
Useful lore was
Theirs for the asking,
Wisdom was their reward.
MIME
[More and more anxious as he sees the Wanderer approach.
Idle knowledge
Some may covet;
I know enough for my needs.
[The Wanderer reaches the hearth.
My own wits suffice,
I want no more,
So, wise one, keep on thy way.
WANDERER [Sitting down at the hearth.
Nay, here at thy hearth
I vow by my head
To answer all thou shalt ask.
My head is thine,
'Tis forfeit to thee,
Unless I can give
Answers good,
Deftly redeeming the pledge.
MIME
[Who has been staring at the Wanderer open-mouthed, now shrinks back; aside, dejectedly.
Now how to get rid of the spy?
The questions asked must be artful.
[He summons up courage for an assumption of sternness; aloud.
Thy head for thy
Lodging pays:
'Tis pawned; now seek to redeem it.
Three the questions
Thou shalt be asked.
WANDERER
Thrice then I must answer.
MIME [Pulls himself together and reflects.
Since, far on the back
Of the wide earth roving,
Thy feet have ranged o'er the world,
Come, answer me this:
Tell me what race
Dwells in the earth's deep gorges.
WANDERER
In the depths of earth
The Nibelungs have their home;
Nibelheim
