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The Valkyrie: Page 308
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glanced upon me, bringing me warmth and light. (#57) (#58b hint?:) Blessed to me then seemed the light of the sun (:#58b hint?); its bliss-bringing glow girt the crown of my head, ere it sank behind the mountains. (#57: the fire flares up feebly again) Yet once again, as it set, I was caught in its evening light; even the ancient ash-tree’s bole (#57) gleamed in the golden glow: now the blossom fades, the light dies out; nighttime’s shadows shielded my eyes: deep in my sheltering breast a flameless fire still smoulders. (The fire has gone out completely: total darkness).

 

(#67. The door to the sideroom opens gently. Sieglinde enters in a white nightdress and moves softly but quickly over to the hearth. #71; #63)

 

[Sieglinde tells Siegmund she’s drugged Hunding and Siegmund should make his escape.]

 

Sieglinde: use night’s cover to save your life [“Heil”]!

 

Siegmund: (interrupting her passionately) Your coming brings me life [“Heil”]!

 

Sieglinde: Let me show you a weapon: if only you could win it! As the noblest of heroes might I hail you: the strongest alone was destined to gain it. [[ (#72) ]] Heed well what I have to tell you. The men from his clan sat there in the hall, as guests at Hunding’s wedding: he was wooing a woman whom villains, unasked, had given him as his wife. Sadly I sat there while they were drinking: (#20a modulation or vari?:) a stranger then came in - an old man dressed in grey; his hat hung so low that one of his eyes was hidden (:#20a modulation?), but the flash of its fellow struck fear all around, as its lowering stare transfixed the men: (#5: [repeated in descending pattern]) in me alone his eye awakened sweetly yearning sorrow, mingled with tears and solace (:#5 descending pattern). (#57) He gazed at me and glared at them as he brandished a sword in his hands; he then drove it deep in the ash-tree’s trunk; (#57) it was buried up to the hilt: (#57) (#20a vari?:) The steel would rightly belong to him who could draw it forth from the trunk (:#20a vari?). Of all the menfolk, much as they struggled, none could win the weapon. Guests would come and guests would go, the strongest tugged at the steel – not an inch did it stir in the trunk: (#57:) in silence the sword still cleaves there (:#57). (#20a:) I knew then who greeted me in my grief (:#20a): I also knew for whom alone (#57) he destined the sword in the tree. Might I find him here

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