Night hung over the palace. Sounds of revelry, a trumpet's blast, burst
from the gayly illuminated abode of the knights. But within the
apartments of the Duchess Elsa all was dark and still.
Opposite stood the cathedral wherein, on the morrow, Elsa would become
the Swan Knight's bride. Though the delicate spires of the cathedral
pointed to a starry sky, dark shadows lurked about the portico. And in
the gloom of these shadows, two figures sat, two abject, miserable
figures,--Frederick of Telramund and Ortrud his wife. Despoiled of their
rich garments and shunned by all, they knew not which way to turn. Since
the Stranger Knight was now Guardian of Brabant, banishment was their
fate, poverty their portion.
After the manner of evildoers, each charged the other with their
misfortune. False Frederick, who had been willing enough to listen to
the promptings of his witch-wife, now upraided her for having used
sorcery to accomplish her wicked ends. It was she who had urged him to
falsehood, he said; she who had induced him to turn traitor; she who had
blackened his ancient name and besmirched his honor. Stung to fury by
the recital of his woes, he called her evil names. He even wished for
his sword in order to strike her dead.
But Ortrud was not a sorceress for nothing. She knew how to cool his
wrath. She taunted him, in turn, for showing cowardice in the fight.
She called him weak of heart and feeble of purpose. She spoke thus: "Who
is this Swan Knight who has vanquished the once powerful Frederick? From
whence has he come? And what is his power? Only witchcraft has brought
him, witchcraft and magic. And magic will take him away. If but one
small point of his body can be injured, he will be helpless and at our
mercy."
Frederick took heart when he heard these words. Perhaps all was not over
yet. Perhaps Ortrud's black magic and his strength could be used to some
purpose before the marriage day dawned. If doubt could be instilled into
the mind of Elsa, if she could be made to forget her promise, the spell
would be broken. Or, if the Swan Knight could be weakened, they would
regain their lost power over Brabant. So they plotted and planned, heads
close together, as the night wore away.
Toward morning a light glimmered in the apartments of the lovely Elsa.
Soon she appeared on the balcony singing a little song.
Ortrud crept near and called to her. She called in a piteous tone, her
voice full of misery. She wept loudly and begged meekly for forgiveness.
She pretended a repentance for all her former misdeeds that she was far
from feeling.
Elsa looked down and listened. When she beheld the once haughty Ortrud
clad in rags, on her knees, her heart melted. She held out her hands in
pity. That was just what the wicked Ortrud was waiting for. The rest was
easy. A few more tears, a little more make-believe penitence, and she
knew she would be forgiven. And sad to tell, it was so. Elsa, full of
love and new-found happiness, took Ortrud into her abode. She gave her a
splendid gown and allowed her to assist in the marriage preparations.
And the wicked Ortrud improved her opportunities. Artfully, she turned
the conversation to the approaching wedding, to the Stranger Knight who
had come by magic. Was not Elsa afraid that he would just as magically
disappear? But Elsa need not fear. Ortrud would always be her friend.
Elsa tried to shake off the disquiet that Ortrud's words caused. But the
seed of suspicion was planted in her mind, and it grew, just as the
wicked Ortrud meant that it should.
Meanwhile from his place behind the dark pillars of the cathedral,
Frederick had seen the first rosy streaks of dawn appear in the East. He
had heard the watchman in the tower give the signal of the new day, and
he had seen the answer flash from the distant turret. Rage overwhelmed
him. For he knew that Elsa's marriage morn had come.
The sleeping palace awoke to life and activity. Servants hurried to and
fro preparing for the festival. The herald stepped forth followed by his
trumpeters four. They summoned the people, who came in gala array from
all sides. Groups of richly clad nobles walked proudly down the palace
steps and stood before the cathedral, waiting. All eyes were fixed upon
the balcony before the abode of the Duchess Elsa.
All at once, a number of pages appeared there. They descended, two by
two, clearing the way to the cathedral steps and crying aloud:
"Make way, make way,
Our Lady Elsa comes!"
The crowd, hushed and expectant, fell back. Then, down the stairway,
across the balcony, came a long train of fair ladies. Their satin
dresses swept the ground. Bright jewels sparkled and flashed as they
advanced slowly toward the cathedral steps. There they halted, ranging
themselves on each side to allow the Duchess Elsa to pass between them.
She, the fairest of them all, walked alone.
Her dress of richest brocade trailed its heavy folds behind her. Ropes
of pearls were about her neck, and bound her golden hair. Her head was
held high, and her face was more beautiful than anything else in the
world. For joy illumined it and made it shine like a star. Was she not
going to meet her Knight, him whom God had sent to defend her?
Her foot was upon the lowest step. She was about to ascend to the
cathedral when she was rudely pushed aside. Ortrud had sprung forward,
crying,--
"Get back! I'll go first. My rank is higher than yours, and I shall not
walk behind you!"
Elsa turned in astonishment. Was this the meek Ortrud who had come to
her begging forgiveness, pleading repentance?
The people cried out in anger. But Ortrud, unheeding, went on:
"My husband may be in disgrace, but he is greater than you all. He will
rule you yet. As for the husband you are to marry,--" and she looked at
the frightened Elsa,--"who is he? What is his rank? You dare not even
ask his name!"
Poor Elsa protested. She tried to say that she did not care to know her
Swan Knight's name. Heaven had sent him, and she was content. His face
bore the stamp of noble birth, and she would always trust him. But her
voice faltered as she spoke. The seed of suspicion had taken root, and
dark doubts arose to torment her.
At that moment, when the consternation was greatest, the King appeared
on the palace steps. With him, in proud array, were the good men and
true who had come to bear him company. And following them all was the
Swan Knight. His bearing seemed nobler than ever, as he trod proudly
forward to claim his bride.
But when he saw the wicked Ortrud and the false Frederick, who by this
time had joined in denouncing him and questioning his name, his face
clouded. King Henry, also, seeing the strife, pressed forward through
the crowd, giving orders to push aside the wicked couple.
The Swan Knight took Elsa tenderly into his arms for a moment, looking
deep into her eyes. Then, led by the King, the marriage procession
proceeded into the cathedral.