mastered by the policeman's baton, shall become the foundation of
society; and when nothing shall escape ruin except such pretty
places and pretty women as he may like to buy for the slaking of
his own lusts. In that kingdom of evil he sees that there will be
no power but his own. These gods, with their moralities and
legalities and intellectual subtlety, will go under and be
starved out of existence. He bids Wotan and Loki beware of it;
and his "Hab' Acht!" is hoarse, horrible, and sinister. Wotan
is revolted to the very depths of his being: he cannot stifle the
execration that bursts from him. But Loki is unaffected: he has
no moral passion: indignation is as absurd to him as enthusiasm.
He finds it exquisitely amusing--having a touch of the comic
spirit in him--that the dwarf, in stirring up the moral fervor of
Wotan, has removed his last moral scruple about becoming a thief.
Wotan will now rob the dwarf without remorse; for is it not
positively his highest duty to take this power out of such evil
hands and use it himself in the interests of Godhead? On the
loftiest moral grounds, he lets Loki do his worst.

A little cunningly disguised flattery makes short work of
Alberic. Loki pretends to be afraid of him; and he swallows that
bait unhesitatingly. But how, enquires Loki, is he to guard
against the hatred of his million slaves? Will they not steal
from him, whilst he sleeps, the magic ring, the symbol of his
power, which he has forged from the gold of the Rhine? "You think
yourself very clever," sneers Alberic, and then begins to boast
of the enchantments of the magic helmet. Loki refuses to believe
in such marvels without witnessing them. Alberic, only too glad
to show off his powers, puts on the helmet and transforms himself
into a monstrous serpent. Loki gratifies him by pretending to be