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The Ring of the Nibelung
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[[#147]] The Norns sing the song of Fate

While the Norns spin Mother Nature’s (their mother Erda’s) self-knowledge, all that was, is, and will be, including Alberich’s curse on his Ring, they sing their song of Fate, the history of the world that was, is, and is yet to be. Their objective knowledge of the world they spin is Fate, natural necessity, because – as Wotan himself admitted to Alberich in S.2.1 and to Erda in S.3.1 – the knowledge they spin can’t be altered.

(#147’s motival links, if any, not yet ascertained; the actual motif representing the Norns’ Spinning is a #3 Vari, a diminished inversion of #3, which is sometimes combined with the Ring Motif #19; is #147 a variant of #15?)

[See #146 for #147’s dramatic context]

 

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[[#148]] Siegfried’s mature horn call

Representing Siegfried’s fully attained status as an unconsciously inspired artist, successful wooer of the muse of art, Bruennhilde (#148 is a harmonically enriched variant of #103, which places #148 in the family of diatonic nature arpeggios which includes #1, #12, and #56.)

Prelude: “(Dawn. The sky begins to brighten and the fiery glow at the back of the stage grows increasingly faint: #87?; [[ #148 Fragments on Bass Clarinet ]]; #139?; #140?; [[ #148 ]]; #139?; [[ #148 ]]; [[ #149 on Clarinet ]]; [[ #148 ]]; [[ #149 ]]; #148?; #77; [[ #148 ]]: Sunrise. Broad daylight. Siegfried and Bruennhilde emerge from the rocky chamber. He is fully armed; she leads her horse by the bridle.)

 

Bruennhilde: ([[ #148 ]]; [[ #149>> ]]) To new adventures, dear hero, [[ #149 ]] what would by love be worth if I did not let you go forth? A single worry makes me falter, that my merit [[ #150 ]] has brought you too little gain! [[ #150 ]] [[ #150>>]] What gods have taught me, I gave to you: a bountiful Hoard [Spencer wrote “store” here for “Hort”] of hallowed runes; (#? – [possibly a reference to music which expressed Bruennhilde’s fear of sexual union with Siegfried from S.3.3?]) but the maidenly source of all [[ #150 ]] my strength (#140) was taken away by the hero to whom I now bow my head. [[ #149 ]] Bereft of wisdom [[ #149 ]] but filled with desire; [[ #149 ]] rich in love but void of strength, I beg you not to despise the poor woman who grudges you naught [[ #150 ]] but can give you no more. [[ #148 ]]

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