The wedding festival was over. With flaming torches held aloft and
joyous voices raised in song, the procession of ladies and nobles led
the bride and bridegroom to their flower-bedecked chamber. Then,
showering blessings upon them, they departed. The torchlights faded in
the distance; the sound of march and song grew faint. It died away. Elsa
and her Swan Knight were alone.
There was a brief silence while they gazed at each other in rapture.
She, so lovely, was his inmost heart's desire. He, so brave, was the
beloved Knight of her dream. Their voices grew soft with happiness, and
on their faces was the glow of a deep joy.
Too soon, however, at the sound of her name on her lover's lips, a shade
stole over Elsa's bright face. "Ah!" thought she, "I can never call him
by his name, for I shall never know what it is." Then, like a flash, all
of Ortrud's taunts came to her mind. And following them, all the dark
doubts, the vague suspicions, arose again to torment her.
First she sat in moody silence. But soon a strange curiosity showed
itself in her speech. Would the fetters that bound the Swan Knight's
lips ne'er be loosened? Must she, his wife, always remain in ignorance?
If he loved her truly, he would surely whisper his secret ever so softly
into her ear. No one should ever know. She would guard the secret well,
locking it within her very heart.
Thus she pleaded and begged, but the Swan Knight pretended not to hear
her. He spoke of other things, striving to distract her mind.
But Elsa would not be put off. Her eyes were fixed upon the Knight, and
her face, but lately aglow with wonder and delight, was clouded with
unbelief and suspicion.
The Knight was distressed by this sudden change. He reminded her gently
of the confidence that he had placed in her promise. He warned her
tenderly of the sorrows that would befall if she did not cease her
questioning. He had given up so much honor, yes, and glory besides, to
stay by her side. Would she not trust him utterly?
Scarcely had Elsa heard the words "glory and honor" than a horrible fear
seized her. "He had come by magic," Ortrud had said, "and by magic he
would go." Now she knew how it would befall. Soon he would tire of her
and would return to the honor and glory from which he had come. Stricken
with terror, she fancied that she already heard the Swan coming to carry
him away. It was too much to bear! Cost what it might, she must learn
who he was.
"Where do you come from?" she cried "Who are you?"
"Ah, Elsa!" answered the Knight, sadly, "what have you done?"
But before he could utter another word, Frederick of Telramund burst
into the room with drawn sword in hand.
Elsa saw him first. She forgot her doubt. She forgot her question. She
thought only that the Swan Knight, her lover, was in danger.
"Save yourself!" she shrieked. "Your sword, your sword!" She thrust it
into his hand.
He drew it quickly. There was a short parry, one blow; and base
Frederick lay dead at the Swan Knight's feet.
Then the Swan Knight turned to Elsa. His eyes were tender, but, oh, how
pitying! Their glance pierced Elsa's heart, and filled her with despair
for what she had done. His voice was sad as he bade her clothe herself
in bridal raiment and go before the King. There, on the morrow, he
would make fitting answer and tell her the rank he bore. And so saying,
he walked sorrowfully out of the flower-bedecked room.
The next day dawned bright and clear. As was his wont, King Henry the
Fowler sat beneath the giant oak on the bank of the winding river
Scheldt. By his side stood the nobles from Saxony and Thuringia who had
come to bear him company. And before him were assembled the men of
Brabant, from north and south, from east and west, of the Duchy.
Slowly, with measured strides, four men walked into their midst. They
bore the body of Frederick of Telramund on a bier, which they placed
before the King.
The nobles looked anxiously at one another. What strange happening was
this? For, closely following, tottering feebly, came the Duchess Elsa
and her train of ladies. Solemnly they marched with eyes downcast,
while she, who but lately had been radiant with happiness, was sad and
pale. Her eyes, unseeing, stared in anguish straight ahead!
The King stepped quickly forward. He looked inquiringly into her face as
he led her to a seat beside him. Elsa could not meet his eyes. She
moistened her lips twice, thrice, but no sound came.
Just then a shout arose from the men:
"Hail, all hail,
The hero of Brabant!"
they cried.
The Swan Knight entered. His armor glittered in the sunlight. A sword
hung at his side, a horn from his shoulder. How strong he was! How
brave! But how strangely sad was his face. He advanced, helmet in hand,
and stood before the King. Making a low obeisance, he strode toward the
bier of the dead Frederick. He uncovered the body, and then solemnly
asked the King's pardon for having killed this man who had stolen by
stealth upon him.
"Nay, ask not our pardon!" spoke the just King. "We approve your deed!"
And all the men of Brabant nodded in assent.
But that was not all the Swan Knight had to tell. His wife, Elsa of
Brabant, had broken her promise. She had asked his name. And since it
was a law of the Order to which he belonged, he would make public answer
to her question. But then he must depart to the distant land from which
he had come.
Astonishment spread like wildfire among the people. As for Elsa, she sat
like a creature of stone. Only Ortrud, who had crept near to listen,
smiled in ill-concealed triumph.
The Swan Knight's face was suffused with holy light. The eyes of his
soul seemed to be peering far, far away into the distance beyond the
winding river, beyond the gray hills, perhaps to the very gates of
heaven itself.
He told the tale of a marvelous Temple rising from the heights of
Mount Salvat, wherein, upon a mystic shrine, rested the sacred chalice
called the Holy Grail. He told of the few chosen knights who guarded the
wondrous Grail, and who, by its Heaven-given powers, were protected from
baneful harm and endowed with supernatural might. Whenever an innocent
cause needed a champion, whenever a grievous wrong had been done, one of
the knights sallied forth and defended the one who had been falsely
accused. But it was a law that no one might know from whence he came or
by what name he was called. For if once the truth were revealed, his
power was gone; the knight must hasten back to the Temple of the Grail.
The Swan Knight's voice rose higher. Like some rare, sweet strain of
music, it fell upon the air:
"The Grail obeying, here to you I came;
My father Parsifal, a crown he weareth,
His Knight am I and Lohengrin my name!"
The shadow of a great awe crept into the eyes of all who heard. They
stared at Lohengrin in silence.
Only Elsa sank moaning to the ground. Lohengrin caught her in his arms.
"Oh, Elsa, dear one," he cried, "why did you strive to learn my secret?
Now I must leave you forever. Had you but remained faithful to your
promise for one year, even your brother Godfrey would have come back to
you. Here is my sword, my horn, my ring. Should he ever return, give
them to him. The sword will help him in battle, the horn will give him
aid in an hour of need, and the ring will remind him of Lohengrin, who
defended you. Now farewell! The Grail calls me. My swan is here."
While he had been speaking, the snow-white swan, drawing the empty boat,
had glided quietly up the winding river. It stood at the shore. The
people gazed at it mournfully. Even Lohengrin greeted it in sadness.
Suddenly the dark-haired Ortrud, who had been watching, approached the
shore. She leaned over the snow-white swan, and when she saw the golden
circlet about its neck, she laughed fiendishly.
"It is he!" she cried. "It is Godfrey! My magic changed him into a swan,
and a swan he shall remain!" and she grinned exultingly at Elsa.
Lohengrin, about to enter the boat, stopped at the sound of Ortrud's
voice. He listened a moment. Then he fell upon his knees and prayed,
while all the people waited breathlessly.
His prayer was lifted up in silence and borne, who shall say where--to
what High and Holy presence? For as he prayed a white dove descended and
hovered over the boat.
Seeing that his prayer was answered, Lohengrin rose to his feet
enraptured. He took the chain from the neck of the swan. The swan sank
into the water. And where it had been stood Godfrey, the rightful Duke
of Brabant.
Elsa fell into her brother's arms with a glad cry. Then together they
watched Lohengrin enter his boat which, drawn by the dove, glided slowly
down the winding river, and out of mortal sight forevermore.
[Illustration]