The Wagner Story Book
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12 Produced by E. Barry Simpson, Charles Franks
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THE WAGNER STORY BOOK
[Illustration: "AT LAST WE CAN SEE SOMETHING IN THE FIRE."]
THE WAGNER STORY BOOK
FIRELIGHT TALES OF THE GREAT MUSIC DRAMAS
BY WILLIAM HENRY FROST
ILLUSTRATED BY SYDNEY RICHMOND BURLEIGH
To
Helen Krebbier
CONTENTS
THE STOLEN TREASURE
THE DAUGHTER OF THE GOD
THE HERO WHO KNEW NO FEAR
THE END OF THE RING
THE KNIGHT OF THE SWAN
THE PRIZE OF A SONG
THE BLOOD-RED SAIL
THE LOVE POTION
THE MINSTREL KNIGHT
THE KING OF THE GRAIL
THE ASHES
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"AT LAST WE CAN SEE SOMETHING IN THE FIRE"
"THE GOLD SHINES OUT SO BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL"
"THE DAUGHTER OF THE GOD"
"THE SUNLIGHT FOLLOWS HIM STRAIGHT INTO THE CAVE"
"THEIR TREASURE IS THEIR OWN AGAIN"
"THE KNIGHT OF HER DREAM"
"HE SAW HER EYES BRIGHTER THAN THE STARS"
"THROUGH THE BLACK STORM AND HIS OWN BLACKER DESPAIR"
"AS IF THEY COULD NEVER GAZE ENOUGH"
"THE STRANGEST FLOWERS GROW UP UNDER THEIR FEET"
"THE KING OF THE GRAIL"
THE STOLEN TREASURE
There is a certain little girl who sometimes tries to find out when I
am not over busy, so that she may ask me to tell her a story. She is
kind enough to say that she likes my stories, and this so flatters my
vanity that I like nothing better than telling them to her. One reason
why she likes them, I suspect, is that they are not really my stories
at all, the most of them. They are the stories that the whole world has
known and loved all these hundreds and thousands of years, tales of the
gods and the heroes, of the giants and the goblins. Those are the right
stories to tell to children, I believe, and the right ones for children
to hear--the wonderful things that used to be done, up in the sky, and
down under the ocean, and inside the mountains. If the boys and girls
do not find out now, while they are young, all about the strange,
mysterious, magical life of the days when the whole world was young, it
is ten to one that they will never find out about it at all, for the
most of us do not keep ourselves like children always, though surely we
have all been told plainly enough that that is what we ought to do.
This little girl's mother is rather a strange sort of woman. I do not
know that she exactly disagrees with us about these stories that we
both like so much, but she seems to have a different way of looking at
them from ours. I sometimes suspect that she does not even believe in
fairies at all, that she never so much as thought she saw a ghost,
that, if she heard a dozen wild horses galloping over the roof of the
house and then flying away into the sky, she would think it was only
the wind, and that she is no more afraid of ogres than of policemen.
Still she is a woman whom one cannot help liking, in some respects.
But one day she said something to the little girl that surprised me,
and made me think that perhaps I had done her injustice. The child came
to me with a face full of perplexity and said: "What do you suppose
mamma just told me?"
"I am sure I can't guess," I replied; "your mother tells you such
ridiculous things that I am always afraid to think what will be the
next. Perhaps she says that William Tell didn't shoot an apple off his
little boy's head, or that the baker's wife didn't box King Alfred's
ears for letting the cakes burn."
"Oh, no," said the child, "it isn't a bit like that; she says that you
can see pictures in the fire sometimes--men and horses and trees and
all kinds of things."
"Does she, indeed? And how does your mother know what I can see in the
fire or what I can't see?"
"Oh, I don't mean just you--yourself, I mean anybody. Now can you? I
mean can anybody?"
"Why, yes, if that is what you mean; I think some people can. It is the
most sensible thing I have known your mother to say in a long time."
"But how can anybody see such things? Can you see them? I have been
looking at the fire ever so long, and I can't see anything at all but
just the fire, the wood, and the ashes."
"Let us look at it together," I said; and I put a chair that was big
enough to hold both of us before the fireplace. "Just see how bright
the fire is; look down into those deep places under the sticks, and see
how it glows and shines like melted gold. Now, you know when you look
into a mirror you can see pictures of the things in front of it--your
own face, the walls of the room, the furniture. That is because the
mirror is so bright that it reflects these things; yet the mirror is
not bright enough to reflect anything except what is there before it,
such things as you can see with your eyes and touch with your hands.
But the fire can do better than that, for it is a great deal brighter
than the mirror, and it is so bright that it can reflect thoughts. So
you must think of the pictures first, and then, if you know just how to
look for them in the fire, you will find them reflected there, and
after a little while you will be surprised at the wonderful things you
will see."
"I don't know what you mean at all," said the child; "tell me what you
can see in the fire now."
"Very well. Suppose, then, first, that you almost close your eyes, but
not quite, so that you will not see the fire so plainly, and it will
all run together and look dim and misty. When I look at it in that way
it seems to me to be fire no more, but water. It is as if we were down
under a broad, deep river, and could see all the mass of water slowly
eddying and whirling and flowing on above us, with just the little glow
and glimmer of brightness that come down from the daylight and the air
above. But there is one little spot that is brighter, right in the
middle of the fire, where you see that one little yellow flame all by
itself. In my picture, it is like a big lump of pure gold, resting on a
point of rock that stands straight up from the bottom of the river. It
is really gold, and magic gold at that, for you know wonderful
treasures often lie at the bottoms of rivers. One of the wonderful
things about this gold is that, if anybody could have a ring made of
it, he could compel everybody else to obey him and serve him, and could
rule the whole world.
"Three forms I can see now moving backward and forward, and up and
down, and around and around about the gold. Now they grow a little
clearer. They are river nymphs, or something of the sort, and they are
here to guard the gold, lest anybody should try to steal it. It would
not be easy to steal, even if it had no guard, and knowing this has
perhaps made these pretty keepers a little careless about it, so that
now, instead of watching it very closely, they are swimming and diving
and circling about, trying to catch one another, having the jolliest
time in the world, and never thinking that there may be danger near."
"And you can see all those things in the fire?" said the little girl.
"I can't see any of them. How do you see them?"
"Just as I told you at first, by thinking of them and then seeing the
thoughts reflected there."
"Well, tell me some more."
"Look at that little dark spot under the fire. When I look at it in the
way I have told you, it is the form of a dwarf. He is ugly and rough-
looking, he is crooked, and he has a wicked face. He slips and tumbles
slowly along, till he catches sight of the water nymphs, and they look
so pretty and graceful and happy, as they chase one another about and
up and down and around, that his cruel little eyes light up with
pleasure, and he calls to them that he should like to come up and play
with them too."
"Oh, now I don't believe any of it at all," said the child; "I thought
just for a little while you might know how to see all those funny
things in the fire, but you can't hear people talk in the fire."
"Oh, my dear child, you don't know very much about the fire if you
think I can't see anything I want to in it, or hear anything I want to
either. I tell you I can hear what this dwarf says, just as plainly as
I can see him walk about. Still, if you don't believe any of it and
don't care to know about the dwarf and the nymphs and the gold, perhaps
you might better go and study your multiplication table, and I will
find something else to do."
"Oh, but I do want to know about them. Please tell me some more. What
do the nymphs say to the dwarf? Can you hear that too?"
"Of course I can hear it; they call to him to come up and play with
them if he likes, and he clambers up over the rocks and trees to catch
one of them after another, while they swim and glide away from him, and
find it much better fun than chasing one another. It is good fun, no
doubt, for the dwarf cannot swim like them, but only scrambles about in
the most ridiculous way, with never any hope of catching one of them,
except when she lets him come near her for a moment, to plague him by
slipping away again quite out of his reach. At last he gets thoroughly
tired and discouraged and angry, while the three sisters laugh at him
and taunt him and chatter with one another, and have clearly enough
forgotten all about the gold that they are supposed to be watching.
"But see now how much brighter the fire is getting. It makes me think
that something must have happened up above the river. The sun must have
risen, or something of that sort, for everything looks clearer and the
gold shines out so bright and beautiful, that the blear-eyed dwarf
himself sees it and forgets all about trying to catch water nymphs in
wondering what it is. He asks the nymphs, and they tell him about the
ring that could be made of it if only it could be stolen from them; but
it is of no use for him to try, they say, because it is a part of the
magic of the gold that it can never be stolen except by some one who
loves nobody in the world and has sworn that he will never love
anybody, and it is clear enough that the dwarf is in love with all
three of them at this very minute. When such a strange treasure as this
was to be guarded, it was no doubt very clever to set three such
beautiful creatures as these to watch it, for if a thief were not in
love already, it is a hundred to one that he would be before he got
near enough to the gold to steal it.
"But the nymphs do not understand at all how much more a heartless
little monster like this dwarf loves the glitter of gold than he could
ever possibly love them. So, even while they are laughing at him, he is
forgetting them completely, and then he swears a deep oath that as long
as he lives he will never love any living thing. Now, if you can think
of anything that anybody could do more wicked, more horrible, more
cruel than that, you must know a great deal more about wicked and
horrible things than you have any right to know. After that every kind
of wrong is easy, and a little thing like stealing a lump of gold of
the size of a bushel basket is a mere nothing. The dwarf scrambles up
the point of rock again, while the nymphs, who think that he is still
chasing them, swim far away from him, and he seizes the gold and
plunges down to the bottom with it. The nymphs rush together again with
a cry of horror and grief and fright, and in an instant everything is
dark, as the flames of our fire suddenly drop down.
[Illustration: "THE GOLD SHINES OUT SO BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL."]
"But you see they fall only for a moment, and now, as they blaze up
again, brighter than ever, I see another picture. It is on the hilltop
above the river. The grass there is soft and fresh, the trees are cool
and green, and the mellow light of morning is over them all. A light,
white morning mist comes up from the river, and the sun, which has just
risen from behind the purple hills, away off where the sky touches
them, turns the mist into shifting and shimmering silver, so that it
makes the whole scene look brighter instead of dimmer. On the hill
across the river is a glorious sight. It is a castle, the grandest and
most beautiful you ever saw. Its walls are thick and strong enough for
a fortress, yet its towers and battlements look so light and graceful
that you would think they might hold themselves up there in the air, or
rest on the silver river mist, if there were no walls under them. As I
look at the castle through the mist it seems half clear and solid and
firm, and half wavering and dim, mysterious and magical, like a castle
in a dream.
"There is something magical about it, for it was all built in one night
by two giants, and they built it for the gods themselves. And now you
must be prepared to meet some very fine company, for right here before
us are the great Father and the great Mother of the gods, looking
across the river at their splendid new home."
"Do you mean Jupiter and Juno?" the little girl asked.
"No, these are not Jupiter and Juno; and the other gods whom we shall
see soon, if the fire burns right, are not the gods you know already,
but they are a good deal like them in some ways. The Father of the Gods
is full of joy at having such a glorious castle, and the Mother of the
Gods is full of dread at the price that must be paid to the giants for
building it. A terrible price indeed it is, as she does not hesitate to
remind him, for the gods have promised to give the giants the beautiful
Goddess of Love and Youth. It was a foolish and wicked promise for them
to make, foolish because if they kept it they could never in the world
get on without her, and wicked because they did not intend to keep it.
The homes of the gods, like any other homes, would be dreary enough
without the Goddess of Love, but it is worse than that, for she has a
garden where apples grow for the gods to eat; it is eating these apples
that makes the gods always young, and nobody but her knows how to care
for them, so that if she goes away the gods will begin to grow old at
once and will soon die."
"Were the apples like that--oh, what was it? you know the name of it--
that the other gods used to eat?"
"Ambrosia? Yes, something like it, but not quite. You know the gods who
ate ambrosia would live forever and are living still; we have seen some
of them ourselves up among the stars. But these gods have to eat the
apples often, and they must get them from the Goddess of Love. This is
much the better story of the two, I think, because it shows us how gods
and other people, as long as they keep love with them, will be always
young, no matter how many years they may live; and how, if they let it
go away from them, they will be old at once, no matter how few their
years.
"All this the Father and the Mother of the Gods are talking over
together now, and he tells her how the Fire God, who proposed the
bargain in the first place, said that the price need never be paid and
that he trusts the Fire God may yet find some way out of the trouble.
Yet the giants must be made in some way to give up their price of
themselves, for the Father of the Gods has the words of the promise cut
upon his spear, and he cannot break a promise that he has once made.
The Fire God has gone away now to search through the world for
something that may be offered to the giants instead of the Goddess of
Love. And now I see her come, running to the Father of the Gods for
protection, and the other gods are here, to help her if they can, and
the giants themselves have come to claim her for the building of the
castle.
"Well, to be sure, they are all in a fine state of excitement. The
giants are big, dreadful-looking fellows, with clubs made of the trunks
of trees, and the poor goddess does not want to go with them in the
least. All the other gods declare, too, that she shall not go with
them, and the giants insist that she shall. The Thunder God is there
and he has a wonderful hammer, a blow of which is like a stroke of
lightning. He is about to strike the giants with it, and that, you may
be sure, would settle the whole matter, big as they are, but the Father
of the Gods will not let him harm them. He has promised, and whatever
happens he cannot break his word.
"While everything is in this dreadful state, the Fire God comes back
from his search. It is not a very cheering story that he has to tell.
He has been through all the world, he says, and he has asked everywhere
what there is that is as good for gods or giants, or anybody else, as
the love of a woman, which makes those who have it always young. But
the people in those days knew more than a good many of the people in
these days, and everywhere they laughed at him and told him that he
might as well give up his search, for he would never find what he
sought."
"What do you mean by 'the people in those days'?" the child asked; "I
thought you said you could see them right here in the fire now."
"So I can, but it is the beauty of these pictures in the fire that I
can see things that happened years ago, thousands of years ago, if I
like, just as well as things that happen now, and perhaps a little
better. So you see the Fire God has not had very good luck, but as he
was coming back, he says, he passed near where the river nymphs were,
and they called to him, telling him that their beautiful gold had been
stolen, and begging him to ask the Father of the Gods to get it back
for them. They told him, too, about the wicked dwarf who stole it, and
how, before he could steal it, he had to swear never again, as long as
he lived, to love anybody or anything. The Fire God seems to have heard
about the dwarf somewhere else, too, for he says that he has already
made the magic ring out of the gold, that by the help of the ring he
has compelled all the other dwarfs to obey him and serve him, and has
piled up such a treasure of gold and jewels as was never seen before;
and finally, that, if the gods are not careful, the dwarf will soon
rule over them and the whole world besides.
"So it seems that there is one person in the world who has found
something which he thinks is worth more than love. And there are at
least two others who are as foolish as he, though they may not be quite
so wicked. And these are the giants, for when they hear the Fire God
tell of the wonderful treasure that the dwarf has heaped together, they
say to the gods that they think the dwarf is quite right, they would
rather have all that gold than the love of any woman, and, if the gods
will get it for them, they may keep their Goddess of Love and Youth.
The Father of the Gods hesitates; how can he get the treasure? he asks.
"'You can find some way to get it, if you like,' the giants reply.
"'I will not get it for you; you shall not have it,' says the Father of
the Gods.
"'Then we will hold to our first bargain,' they answer, 'and take your
Love Goddess with us. To-night we will bring her back; if you have the
treasure ready for us, then you may keep her; if not, then you have
lost her forever.' And they seize her and stride away, dragging her
with them, while the gods look on in grief and fear. And well they may
fear at the change that comes as soon as the beautiful goddess is gone.
You can see the change yourself in the fire. If it did not fit the
story that I am finding in it so well, I should say that the fire
needed more wood, for it seems almost out; see how the blackened sticks
are smouldering and smoking, with scarcely any bright flames at all.
The smoke is spreading like an ugly gray cloud over everything; the
trees and the flowers droop; the sky is dull and the grass is dingy;
the castle looks grim and heavy, and no longer bright and graceful; the
faces of the gods themselves grow pale and haggard; they feel that they
are suddenly older. They have not eaten the apples of youth to-day, and
nobody can get them but the one goddess who has gone. They know that
they will grow older every hour and will soon die if they do not get
her back, and the only way is to find the dwarf's treasure for the
giants.
"'Come quickly,' says the Father of the Gods, 'and let us get this
treasure; let us hasten down under the ground where the dwarfs live,
for we must have it to-night, when the giants come.'
"There, where the dirty yellow smoke is pouring out between the sticks
of wood at the top of the pile, I see a crevice in the rocks. The
Father of the Gods and the Fire God go down into it, and the smoke
comes thicker and blacker, and hides everything but those two, and I
see them climbing down and down over the rough, sharp rocks, toward the
caverns of the dwarfs, while the little tongues of flame shoot out at
them from the fissures, as if they were trying to catch and burn and
sting them, just as they shoot out from between the black, charred
sticks here before our eyes.
"It is a deep, dark cave that I see now, with little spots of light
here and there, like forges, and there is the sound of anvils. The
dwarfs live here, and they are all working hard, as they must now, for
the dwarf who stole the gold and made the ring from it. I see him too,
and he is scolding and beating another dwarf, who is his brother. It is
all about a piece of fine metal work that he has set his brother to do,
and now the brother wants to keep what he has made. But he drops it on
the ground and the dwarf king, for a king he really is now, picks it up
and claps it on his head. It is a helmet, made of delicate rings of
steel linked together. It is a magic helmet, and anybody who wears it
can disappear from sight whenever he likes, or can take any shape he
chooses. In a minute the dwarf is no more to be seen, and in his place
there is only a cloud of smoke. But he can still beat his brother, and
presently he leaves him whining and crying on the ground, and the cloud
floats away.
"You are not to suppose because this dwarf is treated in this cruel way
that he is any better than his brother who beats him. One of them is
just as wicked as the other, and he deserves all he gets. So here,
lying upon the ground and groaning, the two gods find him, as they come
down into the cave. 'What is the matter?' they ask, and he tells them
about the magic helmet. Then back comes the other dwarf, who wears the
helmet and the ring, driving before him a crowd of his fellows, all
laden down with gold and gems, and they throw them in a pile. They are
so rich and dazzling, and there is such a quantity of them that the
fire actually burns brighter there in the corner where they have heaped
them up. The dwarf drives all his workmen away, and then sulkily asks
the gods what they want here, for with his ring and his helmet he
thinks that he is just as good as any of the gods.
"The Fire God tells him that they have heard so much about his great
wealth that they have come to see it, and now they find his treasure
greater and finer than anything they ever saw before. At that the dwarf
is flattered and begins to boast. 'This that you see is nothing,' he
says; 'I shall soon have much more, and by the magic of my ring I mean
to rule the whole world and you gods too.'
"'But suppose,' says the Fire God, 'that some one should steal the ring
from you while you were asleep?'
"'That shows how little you know about it,' the dwarf answers. 'Why, do
you see this magic helmet of mine? With this I can make myself
invisible, or I can take any form I like, and so nobody can find me
while I am asleep to steal the ring.'
"'Oh, now you are telling us too big a story,' says the Fire God; 'it
is nonsense to say you can take any form you like, helmet or no helmet;
you can't expect us to believe that.'
"At this the dwarf begins to get a little angry; 'I tell you I can,' he
cries; 'I will prove it to you; I can change myself into anything; what
shall it be?'
"'Oh, whatever you like,' says the Fire God, 'only let it be something
big and horrible to show just how much you can do.'
"So, to show what he can do, in a second the dwarf changes himself into
a horrible dragon, with slimy scales and a writhing tail, and eyes and
jaws that look as wicked as the dwarf himself, and twice as savage. The
Fire God pretends to be dreadfully frightened, and when the dwarf comes
back to his own shape again he says: 'That was very good, but that does
not seem so hard, after all. Now, the way for you to hide, it seems to
me, would be to make yourself very small, so that you could slip into a
crack in the rocks. You can puff yourself up like a dragon, of course,
but can you make yourself small as easily? Oh, no, I cannot believe
that.'
"'I can be anything, anything, I tell you,' the dwarf cries, getting
still more angry; 'I will be as small as you like,' and in another
second he has changed himself into a toad, not much bigger than your
hand, as slimy as ever, looking still just as wicked as the dwarf
himself, and almost as ugly.
"'Now is the time--quick!' cries the Fire God, and in an instant the
Father of the Gods stamps his foot upon the toad and has him fast. The
Fire God stoops and pulls the magic helmet off the toad's head, and
instantly he is the dwarf again, but he is still firmly held under the
god's foot, and they tie him with cords and drag him away with them, up
among the rocks from which they came."
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