drawn over one eye--Wotan had but one eye--and wearing a dark-blue cloak
marked with stars, suggested by the deep-blue star-pierced sky by night.
He drove a sword into the ash trunk, and, declaring that only a man
strong enough to draw it out should wield it, went his way. Many have
tried, and none succeeded. Siegmund at once draws it, and the pair fly.
There has been some of Wagner's finest and freshest love-music, and one
entrancing effect is got when a puff of wind suddenly blows the door
open. The storm has ceased, and there we see the forest bathed in a
spring moonlight, the raindrops on the young leaves dancing and
gleaming. It is at this moment Siegmund sings the wonderful spring song.

In the next act Wotan tells Brunnhilda she must protect Siegmund in the
coming fight; but Fricka seeks him out in this rocky place amongst the
hills, and compels him to promise on oath that Siegmund shall die to
atone for his violation of the sacred rite of marriage. Brunnhilda
reenters, and then occurs a scene which has caused much debate. At
enormous length Wotan recounts to her practically all we have already
seen and heard before. It may be, as I have said, that Wagner wanted to
make each opera comprehensible in itself, without reference to the
others; it may be that his artistic sense forced him to make it clearer
and ever clearer that each tragedy as it happens is Wotan's tragedy;
but, in any case, I, for one, never regret when the scene is somewhat
shorn. Wotan is defeated in this attempt to observe the word of the law,
but break the spirit. He cannot wield the sword himself, but he made it
and placed it where and so that the hero alone could take it. The hero
is of the seed of his loins, and the fact that Wotan has made life
bitter for him counts for nothing against that fact; and, finally,
though he could not himself aid Siegmund, he ordered his daughter to do
so. He wished Siegmund to act of his own free-will, and yet to do what
he, Wotan, wanted. Checked by Fricka, he revokes his command to