KING.

Never again my shield to wear

Till judgment is pronounced, I swear.'

The people receive this decree with joy, and the men, drawing

their swords, thrust them into the ground as they form a

circle around the king. These preparations for a solemn court

of justice are scarcely ended when Elsa appears, all in white,

and attended by her ladies, who stand in the background while

she timidly advances and stands before the king. Her youth,

beauty, and apparent innocence produce a great effect, not only

upon the bystanders, but also upon the king, who gently begins

to question her.

But, instead of answering him, the fair maiden merely bows

and wrings her hands, exclaiming, 'My hapless brother!' until

the king implores her to confide in him. Suddenly her tongue

is loosened, and she begins to sing, as if in a trance, of a

vision with which she has been favoured, wherein a handsome

knight had been sent by Heaven to become her champion:--

'I saw in splendour shining

A knight of glorious mien,

On me his eye inclining

With tranquil gaze serene;

A horn of gold beside him,

He leant upon his sword.

Thus when I erst espied him

'Mid clouds of light he soared;

His words so low and tender

Brought life renewed to me.

My guardian, my defender,

Thou shalt my guardian be.'

These words and the maiden's rapt and innocent look are so

impressive, that the king and people utterly refuse to believe

the maiden guilty of crime, until Frederick of Telramund boldly

offers to prove the truth of his assertion by fighting against

any champion whom she may choose. Elsa accepts this proposal

gladly, for she hopes her heaven-sent champion may appear.

The lists are immediately prepared, while the herald calls

aloud:--

'He who in right of Heaven comes here to fight

For Elsa of Brabant, step forth at once.'

The first call remains unanswered; but, at Elsa's request, the

king commands a second to be made, while she sinks on her

knees and ardently begins praying for her champion's appearance.

Her prayer is scarcely ended when the men along the bank become

aware of the approach of a snowy swan, drawing a little skiff,

in which a handsome young knight in full armour stands erect.

Amid the general silence of the amazed spectators, Lohengrin, the

Swan Knight, springs ashore, and, turning to his swan, dismisses

it in a beautiful song, one of the gems of this opera:--

'I give thee thanks, my faithful swan.

Turn thee again and breast the tide;

Return unto that land of dawn

Where joyous we did long abide.

Well thy appointed task is done.

Farewell, my trusty swan.'

Then, while the swan slowly sails down the river and out of

sight, the Swan Knight announces to the king that he has come

as Elsa's champion, and, turning to her, asks whether she will

be his wife if he proves victorious. Elsa gladly promises him

her hand, nor does she even offer to withdraw this promise when

he tells her that she must trust him entirely, and never ask

who he is or whence he comes:--

'Say, dost thou understand me?

Never, as thou dost love me,

Aught shall to question move thee

From whence to thee I came,

Or what my race and name.'

Elsa faithfully promises to remember all these injunctions, and

bids him do battle for her, whereupon he challenges Telramund,

with whom he begins fighting at a given signal. The Swan Knight

soon defeats his enemy, who is thus convicted of perjury by the

judgment of God, but he magnanimously refuses to take his life.

Then, turning to Elsa, who thanks him passionately for saving

her, he clasps her in his arms, while Telramund and Ortrud,

his wife, bewail their disgrace, for, according to the law of

the land, they are doomed to poverty and exile. Their sorrow,

however, is quite unheeded by the enthusiastic spectators, who

set Elsa and Lohengrin upon their shields, and then bear them

off in triumph, to the glad accompaniment of martial strains:--

'CHORUS.

We sing to thee,--we praise thee,

To highest honour raise thee.

Stranger, we here greet thee delighted.

Wrong thou hast righted;

We gladly greet thee here.

Thee, thee we sing alone. Thy name shall live in story.

Oh, never will be one to rival thee in glory!'

It is night when the curtain rises upon the second act; the

knights are still revelling in the part of the palace they

occupy, while the women's apartments are dark and still. The

street is deserted, and on the steps of the cathedral sit

Frederick and Ortrud, who have been despoiled of their rich

garments, and are now clad like beggars.

Frederick, who feels his disgrace, bitterly reproaches his wife

for having blasted his career, and seeks to induce her to depart

with him ere day breaks; but Ortrud refuses to go. She is not yet

conquered, and passionately bids him rouse himself, and listen to

her plan, if he would recover his honour, retrieve his fortunes,

and avenge himself for his public defeat. She first persuades

him that the Swan Knight won the victory by magic arts only,

which was an unpardonable offence, and then declares that, if

Elsa could only be prevailed upon to disobey her champion's

injunctions and ask his name, the spell which protects him

would soon be broken, and he would soon become their prey.

Telramund, overjoyed at the prospect of wiping out his disgrace,

acquiesces eagerly, and as Elsa just then appears at her window

and softly apostrophises the evening breeze, Ortrud creeps out

of the shadow and timidly addresses her, simulating a distress

she is far from feeling.

Moved by compassion at the sight of the haughty woman thus laid

low, and touched by the pretended repentance she shows, Elsa,

whom happiness has made even more tender than usual, eagerly

hastens down with two of her attendants, and, opening the door,

bids her come in, promising to intercede in her behalf on the

morrow. During the subsequent brief conversation Ortrud artfully

manages to make Elsa vaguely uneasy, and to sow in her innocent

mind the first seeds of suspicion.

Frederick of Telramund, in the mean while, has watched his wife

disappear with Elsa, and, hiding in a niche of the old church,

he sees the gradual approach of day, and hears the herald

proclaiming through the streets the Emperor's ban upon him:--

'Our king's august decree through all the lands

I here make known,--mark well what he commands:

Beneath a ban he lays Count Telramund

For tempting Heaven with traitorous intent.

Whoe'er shall harbour or companion him

By right shall share his doom with life and limb.'

The unhappy man also hears the herald announce Elsa's coming

marriage with the heaven-sent Swan Knight, and grimly tells the

bystanders he will soon unmask the traitor. A few minutes later,

when he has returned to his hiding place, he sees Elsa appear in

bridal array, followed by her women, and by Ortrud, who is very

richly clad. But at the church door Ortrud insolently presses

in front of Elsa, claiming the right of precedence as her due,

and taunting her for marrying a man who has won her by magic

arts only, and whose name and origin she does not even know.

This altercation is interrupted by the appearance of the king

and his attendants, among whom is the Swan Knight. He hastens

to Elsa's side, while the monarch imperiously demands the cause

of strife. Lohengrin tenderly questions Elsa, who tells him

all. As Ortrud's venomous insinuations have had no apparent

effect upon her, he is about to lead her into the church,

when Telramund suddenly steps forward, loudly declaring that

the Swan Knight overcame him by sorcery, and imploring Elsa

not to believe a word he says.

These accusations are, however, dismissed by the king and his

men, since Elsa passionately refuses to credit them, and the

wedding procession sweeps into the church, followed by the

vindictive glances of Telramund and Ortrud,--glances which the

trembling Elsa alone seems to perceive.

The third act takes place on that selfsame evening. The

festivities are nearly ended, and through opposite doors

the wedding procession enters the nuptial chamber to the

accompaniment of the well known Bridal Chorus. The attendants

soon depart, however, leaving Elsa and Lohengrin to join in a

duet of happy married love. Now that they are alone together

for the first time, Elsa softly begins chiding her lover for not

showing more confidence in her, and revealing who he is. In spite

of his tender attempts to turn aside the conversation into a

less dangerous channel, she gradually becomes more importunate:--

'Oh, make me glad with thy reliance,

Humble me not that bend so low.

Ne'er shalt thou rue thy dear affiance:

Him that I love, oh let me know!'

Seeing her husband does not yield to her tender pleading, Elsa

then redoubles her caresses. Her faint suspicions have taken

such firm root, and grow with such rapidity, that she is soon

almost wild with suspense. All his attempts to soothe her only

seem to excite her more, and suddenly, fancying that she hears

the swan boat coming to bear him away from her, she determines to

break the magic spell at any cost, as Ortrud cunningly advised

her, and demands his name. Just as Lohengrin is gazing upon her

in heart-rending but mute reproach, Telramund bursts into the

room, with a band of hired assassins, to take his life. A quick

motion from Elsa, whose trust returns when she sees her beloved

in danger, permits Lohengrin to parry the first blow with his

sword, and Frederick of Telramund soon lies dead upon the floor,

while his accomplices cringe at Lohengrin's feet imploring his

pardon. Day is dawning, and Lohengrin, after caring tenderly

for the half-fainting Elsa, bids the would-be assassins bear

the corpse into the presence of the king, where he promises to

meet Elsa and satisfy all her demands:--

'Bear hence the corpse into the king's judgment hall.

Into the royal presence lead her.

Arrayed as fits so fair a bride;

There all she asks I will concede her,

Nor from her knowledge aught will hide.'

At the last scene the king is again near the river, on his

judgment throne, whence he watches the mustering of the

troops which are to accompany him to the war, and makes a

patriotic speech, to which they gladly respond. Suddenly,

however, the four men appear with the corpse of Frederick of

Telramund, which they lay at the king's feet, declaring they

are obeying the orders of the new lord of Brabant, who will

soon come to explain all. Before the king can question further,

Elsa appears, pale and drooping, in spite of her bridal array,

and just as the king is rallying her at wearing so mournful an

expression when her bridegroom is only leaving her for a short

time to lead his troops to the fray, the Swan Knight appears,

and is enthusiastically welcomed by his men. Sadly he informs

them he can no longer lead them on to victory, and declares

that he slew Frederick of Telramund in self-defence, a crime

for which he is unanimously acquitted.

Then he sadly goes on to relate that Elsa has already broken

her promise, and asked the fatal question concerning his name

and origin. Proudly he tells them that he has no cause to be

ashamed of his lineage, as he is Lohengrin, son of Parsifal,

the guardian of the Holy Grail, sent from the temple on Mount

Salvatch to save and defend Elsa. The only magic he had used was

the power with which the Holy Grail endowed all its defenders,

and which never forsook them until they revealed their name:--

'He whom the Grail to be its servant chooses

Is armed henceforth by high invincible might;

All evil craft its power before him loses,

The spirit of the darkness where he dwells takes flight.

Nor will he lose the awful charm it lendeth,

Although he should to distant lands,

When the high cause of virtue he defendeth:

While he's unknown, its spells he still commands.'

Now, he adds, the sacred spell is broken, he can no longer

remain, but is forced to return immediately to the Holy Grail,

and in confirmation of his word the swan and skiff again appear,

sailing up the river. Tenderly the Swan Knight now bids the

repentant Elsa farewell, gently resisting her passionate attempts

to detain him, and giving her his sword, horn, and ring, which

he bids her bestow upon her brother when he returns to protect

her. This boon is denied him, because she could not keep faith

with him for one short year, at the end of which time he would

have been free to reveal his name, and her missing brother

would have been restored to her by the power of the Holy Grail.

Placing the fainting Elsa in her women's arms, Lohengrin then

goes down toward the swan boat, amid the loud lamentations of all

the people, One person only is glad to see him depart, Ortrud,

the wife of Telramund, and, thinking he can no longer interfere,

she cruelly taunts Elsa with her lack of faith, and confesses

that her magic arts and heathen spells have turned the heir

of Brabant into the snowy swan which is even now drawing the

tiny skiff.

These words, which fill the hearts of Elsa and all the spectators

with horror and dismay, are however overheard by Lohengrin, who,

accustomed to rely upon Divine aid in every need, sinks upon his

knees, and is rapt in silent prayer. Suddenly a beam of heavenly

light streams down upon his upturned face, and the white dove

of the Holy Grail is seen hovering over his head. Lohengrin,

perceiving it, springs to his feet, looses the golden chain

which binds the swan to the skiff, and as the snowy bird sinks

out of sight a fair young knight in silver armour rises out of

the stream. Then all perceive that he is in truth, as Lohengrin

proclaims, the missing Godfrey of Brabant, released from bondage

by the power of the Holy Grail. Elsa embraces her brother with

joy, the king and nobles gladly welcome him, and Ortrud sinks

fainting to the ground. Lohengrin, seeing that his beloved has

now a protector, springs into the skiff, whose chain is caught

by the dove, and rapidly drawn out of sight. As it vanishes,

Elsa sinks lifeless to the ground with a last passionate cry of

'My husband!' and all gaze mournfully after him, for they know

they will never see Lohengrin, the Swan Knight, again.

[Illustration: TRISTAN'S DEATH.]