immediately does so, and the two robbers take advantage of it to lay hands on the treasure. Why did Wotan covet it? Because he needed it to reward the two giants who had built for him the celestial palace of Valhalla; he had promised them, (the trifler!) as payment, his tempting step-sister, Freia, the Venus of this Olympus; intending of course to send the louts about their business when on the termination of their task they should come to take delivery of the prize. But by the wise counsel of the far-seeing Erda, goddess of the earth, who emerges from the ground as far as her waist to gain his hearing, Wotan renounces this blackguardly action which would be fatal to the race of gods, and in exchange for Freia offers the giants the treasure of Alberich. It is exchanging one knavery for another, robbing a robber.
From this moment Wotan has lost his divine felicity. Does he not carry, inscribed on the handle of his lance the "Runes" of loyalty, the protective maxims of the Laws and Contracts? By violating them he has shattered the foundations of the universal order which depends upon his sovereign will, and how can he atone for this violation, having himself sanctioned it by a new contract? In inextricable trouble of conscience he goes to consult Erda in the bosom of the Earth, and to lend charm to a conversation of which the subject must have been rather vague—judging from what we learn of it from the Wagnerian Tetralogy—he presents her with nine beautiful daughters all at once; these are the Valkyrs, Warrior goddesses, whose mission it is to be to bring back the brave who have fallen in battle and escort them to Valhalla, to the court of the gods. The upshot of the consultation with Erda is that it is beyond the power of Wotan
