exhaustion]) My raging blood’s racing fiercely through my veins; my hand is burned by my brow (:#103 frag?). (#87 hint or #97 hint?; #20a vari? [music possibly referencing that heard when Siegfried in S.2.2 asked: “ … will it be some boon companion?,” just before Siegfried woke Fafner with his horncall #103?; this music has a revelatory quality, with staccato pulses]) the sun’s already high in the heavens: its eye stares down on the crown of my head from the brilliant blue above (:#87 hint or #97 hint?; :#20a vari?). (#128b) Gentle coolness I choose beneath the lime (:#128b)!
(#128a?:; #20a vari flute?: He stretches out beneath the lime-tree and looks up again through the branches.)
Siegfried: (#106:) Once more, my dear little bird, since for so long we were rudely disturbed (:#106), (#106 >>?:; #107?:) I’d be glad to hear (#108:) your song: on the branch I can see you blissfully swaying, twittering, brothers and sisters surround you, fluttering gaily and lovingly round (:#106: :#107?; :#108)! But I am so alone, have no brothers or sisters; my mother died, my father was slain. Their son never saw them! (#131/#41:) A loathsome dwarf was my only companion; (warmly) kindness never led us to love (:#131); (#117?:) he slyly set me cunning snares: - now I’ve had to slay him (:#117?)!
(He raises his eyes again, in painful emotion, to the branches above him)
Siegfried: ([[ #132a: ]] [is #132 based on #66 or #106?]; #37?: [possible reference to Froh’s “Sad it would be to be severed from her forever … “ from R.4?]) my friendly woodbird, I ask you now (:#37? [&/or “Froh” reference from R.4?]): (#106?:) would you grant me a boon companion? Will you advise me aright? (#108:) So often I’ve tried to attract one but never yet obtained one (:#108): you, my dear friend (:#106?), (#128b or #98?:) would surely do better! Already you’ve given such good advice (:#128b or #98?): (ever more quietly: (#17 in the bass?:; #11?:) now sing, I’ll list to your song (:#17 in the bass?).
Voice of the Woodbird: (#129/#11:) Hey! Siegfried’s now slain the evil dwarf! Now I know the most glorious wife for him. High on a fell she sleeps, fire burns round her hall: (#128b:) if he
