Then the King turned to Elsa, and asked her if she were willing to have
her champion fight for life or death to prove her blameless.
Elsa answered, "Yes," and, to the great astonishment of all, named her
unknown knight as her champion.
"None other will I have," she said. "He will come to defend me, and upon
him will I bestow my father's lands. Aye, should he deign to wed me, I
will be his bride."
"Then cry out the summons," ordered the King.
The herald stepped forth with his trumpeters four. Placing one to the
east and one to the west, one to the north, and one to the south, he
bade them blow a great blast.
"Let him who dares to fight for Elsa of Brabant come forth!"
The trumpet's call, the herald's words, fell on the clear air. The echo
sounded and resounded. There was a long pause. All was still.
The dark-haired Ortrud curled her lips scornfully, and an evil smile lit
the face of Frederick of Telramund.
"Once more, O King!" implored Elsa, "once more let the summons be
sounded!" and she fell upon her knees at his feet.
The King nodded. The trumpeters blew another blast. Again the herald
cried out:
"Let him who dares to fight for Elsa of Brabant come forth!"
Again the notes died away on the clear air. Again the echo sounded,
resounded. Another long pause. All was as still as before. Only the
voice of Elsa in prayer was heard. Oh, how she prayed! Her need was
great. Surely the noble knight of her dream would not fail her. God had
sent him to her in the greenwood. He would send him now. She would put
her trust in Him. And she bowed her head in her hands.
Suddenly the men on the river bank were seen peering eagerly into the
distance. They beckoned, they waved, they whispered. Others ran to join
them. And they, too, gazed, then pointed excitedly down the river. What
strange sight was there? What was it that glittered, glistened from
afar? Its brightness dazzled the eyes. Ah! it was lost to view behind
the curving shore. No, it appeared again. Behold a wonder! A swan, a
snow-white swan was gliding gracefully toward them. It drew a boat, a
silver boat. And in the boat, erect, his bright armor glittering in the
sun, stood a knight. He leaned upon his sword. A helmet was on his head,
a shield on his shoulder, a horn by his side. The swan drew him nearer.
He approached the very bank. Oh, wondrous sight! A gallant knight had
been sent by Heaven to defend the fair-haired maiden. Might had come to
fight for Right.
The men were awestruck. In silence, entranced, they gazed at the swan,
the boat, the Heaven-appointed knight. The King, from his seat beneath
the giant oak, surveyed the scene in bewilderment. Elsa felt the
excitement, heard the murmurs, still dared not lift her head. But the
face of Frederick was dark and gloomy to see, and Ortrud cowered down
in terror and shuddered strangely when she beheld the snow-white swan.
The noble knight had stepped to the shore. Casting a loving look at his
dear swan, he bade it a tender farewell, and watched it sadly as it
glided away, over the water, around the curve, out of sight.
Then he turned. Elsa, rising, uttered a cry of joy when she saw his
face. It was he! The noble knight of her dream! So strong, so stalwart,
so brave! He had come. There Was naught to fear.
Solemnly, with long strides, armor glistening, sword clanking, helmet in
hand, the Swan Knight advanced and stood before the King. He made a low
obeisance, then announced that he had come to champion a guiltless maid
who had been falsely accused of a woeful crime. He looked at Elsa.
"Elsa," he said, "do you choose me as your defender?"
"Yes," she cried.
"And if I prove victorious, will you be my bride?"
"Yes."
Surely there was little that she would not promise this noble knight who
had come from afar to defend her. And Elsa threw herself at his feet,
vowing to give him all she had, even her life, if need be. But the Swan
Knight raised her and, looking into her eyes, asked but one promise, a
strange one. If he was to defend her, if he was to be her husband, she
must trust him utterly. She must never ask his name. No, she must not
even think of it, or who he was, or from whence he came.
At that moment it seemed very easy for Elsa to promise so simple a
thing. But the Swan Knight was very solemn, and he repeated the words
slowly, saying,--
"Mark this well, Elsa.
These questions ask me never,
Nor think upon them ever,
From whence I hither came,
What is my rank or name."
She listened carefully, then promised gladly never to doubt him, always
to obey him. It was such a little thing, and was he not her shield, her
angel, her preserver?
So the King arranged the fight. Three Saxons advanced for the Swan
Knight, three men of Brabant for Frederick of Telramund. With three
solemn paces they measured the ground. The King struck his sword three
times against his shield, and the battle was on.
"Oh, let the arm of Right be strong,
And feeble be the arm of Wrong,"
sang the men.
And it was so. God gave Might to the arm of the Knight. But a few passes
and falsehood and deceit were vanquished. Frederick the Traitor lay
prostrate on the ground with the sword of the Swan Knight pointed at his
throat. Still the Knight spared his life. He bade him go his way and
sin no more.
Justice had been done. King Henry took his shield from the tree behind
him. The Saxons, the Thuringians, the Brabantians, resumed their swords.
God had been with them that day under the blue sky, and so amid great
rejoicing they bore Elsa and her Swan Knight from the field.