The curtain rises, and we are in the depths of the Rhine; water-nymphs sport about; Alberich, an evil being of the river, tries in vain to catch them.  The water grows brighter with the rising of the sun, and the Rhinegold is seen to glow on the summit of a high rock.  Defeated in his attempts to capture a nymph, Alberich scales the rock, seizes the gold and makes off with it.  The silly creatures have told him that their innocent toy, shaped into a ring, would confer upon its possessor power to rule the whole world, on condition that he surrendered love; and love being something Alberich is incapable of understanding, though he is amorous enough, he willingly pays the price for the sake of the power—­that is, the power costs him nothing.  The light-giving gold being raped, darkness falls on the river.

The next scene is on a plateau; beyond it lies the valley of the Rhine; further off is a mountain; light mists hover over the summit; and, as they clear away in the early morning sunshine, a gorgeous castle, Valhalla, gradually becomes visible.  Wotan and Fricka his wife lie in slumber.  Fricka wakes first, and is startled, not to say horrified, by the apparition.  The Giants, Fasolt and Fafner, have built the castle, and the promised payment is Freia, Fricka’s sister, whose apples all gods and goddesses must eat every day, else they will fade and perish.  Fricka tries to awaken Wotan:  in his dreams he talks of endless, omnipotent power, and of his castle, to be peopled by heroes to fight for him against the brute forces of the earth.  When he is aroused he gazes at the building in deepest joy:  now his ambition will be gratified.  In vain Fricka expostulates, repeating (in homely phrase), “What about Freia?” Wotan smiles a superior smile:  he has arranged that matter, and all will be well.

This is the beginning of Wotan’s tragedy, the huge drama of which the others constitute the working out.  From this scene to the end we are to see Wotan gradually forced into a corner.  He has to learn by slow degrees that you cannot have anything without paying the price.  It is in vain he argues with Fricka.  She stands for law—­inexorable law.  She seems a disagreeable woman, and it would be much more pleasant for everybody concerned if she could be induced to hold her tongue and let things take their course.  So is what we call the law of gravitation a disagreeable thing; all the same, we know that if we fall off a house-roof we shall break our necks.  In the Scandinavian cosmogony Wotan holds sway only by treaties, bargains struck with the powers that only sustain him so long as he sticks to his word, and are capable of thrusting him down if he breaks his word.  Even omnipotence may be bought too dearly, and Wotan is not destined to taste the sweets of even a quarter of an hour’s omnipotence.  In vain he tries to evade responsibility, to get something for nothing; and his tragedy is consummated when in Siegfried he realises that omnipotence can never be his.  Then he renounces it.