Siegfried & The Twilight of the Gods The Ring of the Niblung, part 2

Slavery! worry! Labour all lost! The strongest sword That ever I forged, That the hands of giants Fitly might wield, This insolent urchin For whom it is fashioned Can snap in two at one stroke, As if the thing were a toy!

[_Mime throws the sword on the anvil ill-humouredly, and with his arms akimbo gazes thoughtfully on the ground._

There is one sword That he could not shatter: Nothung's splinters Would baffle his strength, Could I but forge Those doughty fragments That all my skill Cannot weld anew. Could I but forge the weapon, Shame and toil would win their reward!

[_He sinks further back his head bowed in thought._

Fafner, the dragon grim, Dwells in the gloomy wood; With his gruesome and grisly bulk The Nibelung hoard Yonder he guards. Siegfried, lusty and young, Would slay him without ado; The Nibelung's ring Would then become mine. The only sword for the deed Were Nothung, if it were swung By Siegfried's conquering arm; And I cannot fashion Nothung, the sword!

[_He lays the sword in position again, and goes on hammering in deep dejection._

Slavery! worry! Labour all lost! The strongest sword That ever I forged Will never serve For that difficult deed. I beat and I hammer Only to humour the boy; He snaps in two what I make, And scolds if I cease from work.