Chapter IV: The Rainbow Bridge

Out of the underground world into the wild, mountainous country above, veiled still with the strange gray mist of age, came the two gods and their captive, Alberich.

He was snarling and grumbling, being much enraged at being bound by the hated gods, and, above all, at having his beloved Tarnhelm in the hands of Logi, whom he especially detested. Also, he feared that he would be forced to give up the Ring, which he still wore on his finger; and, partly to prevent the gods from wishing for this, he soon consented to give them the hoard which his servants, the Nibelungs, had collected in Nibelheim. Touching the Ring with his lips, he murmured a command, or spell, and from the under-world came the little dark dwarfs bearing great loads of treasure, which they placed at his feet.

Ashamed, and hating that they should see him a captive, Alberich loudly ordered them off with threats and harsh words, and then demanded that the gods should release him, while the Nibelungs crept back into the dark hole that led to Nibelheim.

Logi, casting the Tarnhelm upon the pile, asked if the Dwarf should be freed.

“He wears a bright Ring,” said the King God. “Let it be added to the heap!”

“The Ring!” wildly cried Alberich. “The Ring! I will never give it up! It is mine!”

“Thief! You stole it from the Rhine Children,” said Wotan. “Do you call it, then, yours?” and he tore the Ring from Alberich’s finger and placed it on his own.

“Let him go!” he said to Logi, who obeyed, and the Nibelung was free. Rising from the ground, he glared horribly at the gods.

“Listen to the spell I cast on the Ring!” he said, with a peal of wild laughter. “None who possess it shall ever through it come to happiness. Sorrow attends it, and whoever owns it shall know grief. His death shall be sad, his life a failure. This doom shall attend the Ring until it comes back to my hand. Hear the spell Alberich has placed on the Gold!”

He laughed again, and vanished in the dark hole that led to Nibelheim.

Wotan stood silently gazing at the Ring on his finger. Logi, looking off in the distance, saw Fasolt and Fafner nearing, with Friea. As she came closer, the gray mist began to clear slightly away, though it still hung about in heavy clouds, hiding Walhalla’s spires. Fricka, Thor, and Froh, quickly drawing near from another direction, spoke of the growing warmth and clearness of the air.

“Dear sister, welcome back to us!” cried Fricka, as the giants strode out with Friea. But, when the two goddesses started forward to meet each other, Fasolt caught hold of his captive and held her fast.

“Wait! Wait!” he cried. “Where is the ransom?”

“Behold it!” said Wotan, pointing to the heap of treasure.

The giants declared that when a pile of gold had been erected high enough to hide the Love Goddess from view, they would return her to the gods—but not before. Accordingly, a heap was made which, as it grew higher with added treasure, soon hid Friea entirely, save for a gleam of her bright hair, which Fafner’s keen eye descried. The Tarnhelm must go to hide it.

That accomplished, Fasolt strained his eyes to find an unfilled crevice. Through a tiny space he beheld one of the goddess’s eyes, and demanded the Ring to fill up the chink.

“The Ring!” exclaimed Wotan, starting back.

“The Ring!” cried Logi. “Nonsense! It is the Rhine Children’s treasure. The King God will return it to them.”

“Foolish you are,” said Wotan, in a low voice. “I shall keep it myself.”

“Bad is the prospect for the fulfilment of my promise to the weeping Rhine Children,” said Logi, softly.

“Your promise does not bind me,” said the King of the Gods. “I shall keep the Ring.”

“Hand over the ransom!” cried Fafner, loudly.

“Never!” said Wotan.

“Then Friea is ours!” roared the giants, and they grasped her once more.

The gods, in chorus, begged Wotan to give the wranglers the treasure, but he was deaf to their entreaties. His eyes were fastened upon the bright Ring’s glitter; he was blind to all else.

Suddenly the light seemed to die out from the world. All grew dark. From a black chasm in the rocks rose a woman’s figure in a strange halo of blue light. Her face was pale, with a look of deepest mystery upon it. Lifting her hand, she spoke in low, solemn tones to Wotan:

“Hear my warning! Avoid the Ring, with its terrible spell! Heed me, O Wotan!”

“Who are you who warn me?” asked the god.

“I understand all things; wisest in all the world am I. The witch-wife Erda, men call me, Mother of the Norns. Listen, listen, listen! A day of dusk and gloom is coming for the gods. Beware of the Ring!”

She sank down into the earth once more. The blue light faded away. As she vanished she spoke again:

“Think well on what I have said!”

She was gone. Slowly the light came back to the world. Lost in thought, Wotan stood a moment; then turned quickly to the giants, and tore the Ring from his finger.

“It is yours!” he declared; and he tossed it on to the pile. “Back to us, Friea!” and the Love Goddess gladly flew back to their midst.

Fafner and Fasolt began fighting over the Ring at once, and Alberich’s dark spell quickly made itself felt. For Fasolt, seizing the Ring, was killed by his brother, who, with Ring and treasure, fled away to a far cave, named Hate Hole, and there, in the shape of a great dragon, guarded his hoard in loneliness for many years. But that is a different part of my story.

After the death of Fasolt and the flight of Fafner with the treasure, the clouds hanging low over the gods were cleared away by a great storm, and, as Walhalla appeared shining in the sun, a rainbow bridge spanned the space between the palace and the gods, who passed over it to their new home.

“These gods—how foolish and blind!” said Logi to himself, as he went with them. “I feel ashamed that I am one of them, bound to share in their doings.”

The beautiful palace glittered brightly. The gods smiled as they passed over the rainbow bridge. Only from the Rhine below there came a sound of wailing.

“O Rhinegold! Rhinegold!” sang the weeping Rhine daughters. “We long for your light. Trustful are those in the water; false are those above.”

[Music: Walhalla Motif]