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Updated: June 21, 2025
They would have hissed me if they had dared." The spear shook in her trembling hand. "When my voice broke in the top notes, you could hear them whispering in the loggias; didn't you hear them? 'She is old, they said, 'she can't sing any more, or act! She has no business to be here. Get us another Brünnhilde! And the stage hands looked at me pityingly. I saw!
If you had acted like that tonight, you would have had the House at your feet." The singer took a step forward. "It is not I," she cried, "It is Brünnhilde herself! Come, let her sing to you! The scene is still there on the stage, the rocks and the fir-tree and Brünnhilde's couch. The fire motive seethes in my brain, and the flames are springing. Come and waken me!"
Pu Wecker des Lebens, siegendes Licht!" The tempo quickened and the rhythm; and the tones grew higher and richer, ringing, more passionate. Such acting such singing! It was as if the Walküre herself had come out of the trance back to life, and the audience saw Brünnhilde in the flesh. The House reverberated to the sound of her voice; it was a glory, a revelation.
Once he had written: "Women are the music of life," and of his "Brünnhilde" he had said: "Never has woman been so glorified as in this poem." For the reward of this trust in womankind, he had also had the privilege of saying, "In the hearts of women it has always gone well with my art."
You shall be our great Brünnhilde and the visitors will flock to Ehrestadt, and you will be famous and beloved." He hesitated: "I can't see you, only your eyes gleaming, Kaya. How bright they are, little one, like live coals! Where did you get that name 'Master'? Did Marta teach you? My pupils say that, the chorus, the orchestra, and the singers; but you never used it before.
It was like the fire-music putting Brunnhilde to sleep. But the pipe did not flicker and sink. It seemed to cause a natural relaxation in her soul, a peace. Perhaps it was more like waking to a sweet, morning awakening, after a night of tormented, painful tense sleep. Perhaps more like that.
Poor Mrs Colonel recollected very little of this, but Lucia had long been aware that her memory was going sadly. After producing Lucretia in New York, Olga had appeared in some of her old roles, notably in the part of Brunnhilde, and Lucia was very reminiscent of that charming party of Christmas Day at dear Georgino's, when they had the tableaux.
Still, it is a great thing to find an artist of such force and passion and at the same time such rare delicacy; and I expect to come here in 1899 and hear an almost perfect rendering of Brünnhilde. As for the rest of the singers, the less said about most of them the better.
Such was the Brunnhilde, Montague looked about him for one of the yacht's launches, but he could not find any, so he hailed a boatman and had himself rowed out. A man in uniform met him at the steps. "Is Mrs. Taylor on board?" he asked. "She is," the other answered. "Is this Mr. Montague? She left word for you."
Give her a nice expensive refined Christmas present too. You might give her that picture you're doing of me No, I suppose she wouldn't like that. But just comfort her and make her feel you can't get on without her. You've been her right hand all these years. Make her give her tableaux again. And then I think you must ask me in afterwards. I long to see her and Peppino as Brunnhilde and Siegfried.
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