So saying, he leads _Ortrud_ forward, and she, lowering her dark visage, makes a deep obeisance to the _King_. To the latter but one course is open. A terrible accusation has been uttered, and an appeal must be made to the immediate judgment of G.o.d in trial by combat between _Frederick_ and whoever may appear as champion for _Elsa_.

Solemnly the _King_ hangs his shield on the oak, the Saxons and Thuringians thrust the points of their swords into the ground, while the Brabantians lay theirs before them. The royal _Herald_ steps forward. "Elsa, without delay appear!" he calls in a loud voice.

A sudden hush falls upon the scene, as a slender figure robed in white slowly advances toward the _King_. It is _Elsa_. With her fair brow, gentle mien, and timid footsteps it seems impossible that she can be the object of _Frederick's_ dire charge. But there are dark forces conspiring against her, of which none knows save her accuser and the wife he has chosen from the remoter North. In Friesland the weird rites of Odin and the ancient G.o.ds still had many secret adherents, _Ortrud_ among them, and it is the hope of this heathenish woman, through the undoing of _Elsa_, and the accession of _Frederick_ whom she has completely under her influence, to check the spread of the Christian faith toward the North and restore the rites of Odin in Brabant. To this end she is ready to bring all the black magic of which she secretly is mistress into play. What wonder that _Elsa_, as she encounters her malevolent gaze, lowers her eyes with a shudder!

Up to the moment of _Elsa's_ entrance, the music is harsh and vigorous, reflecting _Frederick's_ excitement as, incited by _Ortrud_, he brings forward his charge against _Elsa_. With her appearance a change immediately comes over the music. It is soft, gentle, and plaintive; not, however, entirely hopeless, as if the maiden, being conscious of her innocence, does not despair of her fate.

"Elsa," gently asks the _King_, "whom name you as your champion?" She answers as if in a trance; and it is at this point that the music of "Elsa's Dream" is heard. In the course of this, violins whisper the Grail Motive and in dreamy rapture _Elsa_ sings, "I see, in splendour shining, a knight of glorious mien. His eyes rest upon me with tranquil gaze. He stands amid clouds beside a house of gold, and resting on his sword. Heaven has sent him to save me. He shall my champion be!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Emma Eames as Elsa in "Lohengrin"]

The men regard each other in wonder. But a sneer curls around _Ortrud's_ lips, and _Frederick_ again proclaims his readiness to prove his accusation in trial by combat for life and death.

"_Elsa_," the _King_ asks once more, "whom have you chosen as your champion?"

"Him whom Heaven shall send me; and to him, whatever he shall ask of me, I freely will give, e'en though it be myself as bride!" Again there is heard the lovely, broad and flowing melody of which I have already spoken and which may be designated as the ELSA MOTIVE.

[Music]

The _Herald_ now stations his trumpeters at the corners of the plain and bids them blow a blast toward the four points of the compa.s.s. When the last echo has died away he calls aloud:

"He who in right of Heaven comes here to fight for _Elsa_ of Brabant, let him step forth!"

The deep silence that follows is broken by _Frederick's_ voice. "No one appears to repel my charge. 'Tis proven."

"My King," implores _Elsa_, whose growing agitation is watched by _Ortrud_ with a malevolent smile, "my champion bides afar. He has not yet heard the summons. I pray you let it go forth once more."

Again the trumpeters blow toward the four points of the compa.s.s, again the _Herald_ cries his call, again there is the fateful silence. "The Heavens are silent. She is doomed," murmured the men. Then _Elsa_ throws herself upon her knees and raises her eyes in prayer. Suddenly there is a commotion among the men nearest the river bank.

"A wonder!" they cry. "A swan! A swan--drawing a boat by a golden chain! In the boat stands a knight! See, it approaches! His armour is so bright it blinds our eyes! A wonder! A wonder!"

There is a rush toward the bank and a great shout of acclaim, as the swan with a graceful sweep rounds a bend in the river and brings the sh.e.l.l-like boat, in which stands a knight in dazzling armour and of n.o.ble mien, up to the sh.o.r.e. Not daring to trust her senses and turn to behold the wondrous spectacle, _Elsa_ gazes in rapture heavenward, while _Ortrud_ and _Telramund_, their fell intrigue suddenly halted by a marvel that surpa.s.ses their comprehension, regard each other with mingled amazement and alarm.

A strange feeling of awe overcomes the a.s.sembly, and the tumult with which the advent of the knight has been hailed dies away to breathless silence, as he extends his hand and in tender accents bids farewell to the swan, which gently inclines its head and then glides away with the boat, vanishing as it had come. There is a chorus, in which, in half-hushed voices, the crowd gives expression to the mystery of the scene. Then the men fall back and the Knight of the Swan, for a silver swan surmounts his helmet and is blazoned upon his shield, having made due obeisance to the _King_, advances to where _Elsa_ stands and, resting his eyes upon her pure and radiant beauty, questions her.

"Elsa, if I become your champion and right the foul wrong that is sought to be put upon you, will you confide your future to me; will you become my bride?"

"My guardian, my defender!" she exclaims ecstatically. "All that I have, all that I am, is yours!"

"Elsa," he says slowly, as if wishing her to weigh every word, "if I champion your cause and take you to wife, there is one promise I must exact: Never must you ask me whence I come or what my name."

"I promise," she answers, serenely meeting his warning look. He repeats the warning and again she promises to observe it.

"Elsa, I love you!" he exclaims, as he clasps her in his arms. Then addressing the _King_ he proclaims his readiness to defend her innocence in trial by combat.

In this scene occurs one of the significant themes of the opera, the MOTIVE OF WARNING--for it is Elsa's disregard of it and the breaking of her promise that brings her happiness to an end.

[Music]

Three Saxons for the Knight and three Brabantians for _Frederick_ solemnly pace off the circle within which the combatants are to fight.

The _King_, drawing his sword, strikes three resounding blows with it upon his shield. At the first stroke the Knight and _Frederick_ take their positions. At the second they draw their swords. At the third they advance to the encounter. _Frederick_ is no coward. His willingness to meet the Knight whose coming had been so strange proves that. But his blows are skilfully warded off until the Swan Knight, finding an opening, fells him with a powerful stroke. _Frederick's_ life is forfeited, but his conqueror, perchance knowing that he has been naught but a tool in the hands of a woman leagued with the powers of evil, spares it and bids his fallen foe rise. The _King_ leads _Elsa_ to the victor, while all hail him as her deliverer and betrothed.

The scenes here described are most stirring. Before the combat begins, the _King_ intones a prayer, in which first the princ.i.p.als and then the chorus join with n.o.ble effect, while the music of rejoicing over the Knight's victory has an irresistible onsweep.

Act II. That night in the fortress of Antwerp, the palace where abide the knights is brilliantly illuminated and sounds of revelry issue from it, and lights shine from the kemenate, where _Elsa's_ maids-in-waiting are preparing her for the bridal on the morrow. But in the shadow of the walls sit two figures, a man and a woman; the man, his head bowed in despair, the woman looking vindictively toward the palace. They are _Frederick_ and _Ortrud_, who have been condemned to banishment, he utterly dejected, she still trusting in the power of her heathenish G.o.ds. To her the Swan Knight's chivalrous forbearance in sparing _Frederick's_ life has seemed weak instead of n.o.ble, and _Elsa_ she regards as an insipid dreamer and easy victim. Not knowing that _Ortrud_ still darkly schemes to ruin _Elsa_ and restore him to power, _Frederick_ denounces her in an outburst of rage and despair.

As another burst of revelry, another flash of light, causes _Frederick_ to bow his head in deeper gloom, _Ortrud_ begins to unfold her plot to him. How long will a woman like _Elsa_--as sweet as she is beautiful, but also as weak--be able to restrain herself from asking the forbidden question? Once her suspicion aroused that the Knight is concealing from her something in his past life, growing jealousy will impel her first to seek to coax from him, then to demand of him his name and lineage. Let _Frederick_ conceal himself within the minster, and when the bridal procession reaches the steps, come forth and, accusing the Knight of treachery and deceit, demand that he be compelled to disclose his name and origin. He will refuse, and thus, even before _Elsa_ enters the minster, she will begin to be beset by doubts. She herself meanwhile will seek to enter the kemenate and play upon her credulousness. "She is for me; her champion is for you. Soon the daughter of Odin will teach you all the joys of vengeance!" is _Ortrud's_ sinister exclamation as she finishes.

Indeed it seems as if Fate were playing into her hand. For at that very moment _Elsa_, all clad in white, comes out upon the balcony of the kemenate and, sighing with happiness, breathes out upon the night air her rapture at the thought of what bliss the coming day has in store for her. As she lets her gaze rest on the calm night she hears a piteous voice calling her name, and looking down sees _Ortrud_, her hands raised in supplication to her. Moved by the spectacle of one but a short time before so proud and now apparently in such utter dejection, the guileless maid descends and, herself opening the door of the kemenate, hastens to _Ortrud_, raises her to her feet, and gently leads her in, while, hidden in the shadows, _Frederick of Telramund_ bides his time for action. Thus within and without, mischief is plotting for the unsuspecting _Elsa_.

These episodes, following the appearance of _Elsa_ upon the balcony, are known as the "Balcony Scene." It opens with the exquisite melody which _Elsa_ breathes upon the zephyrs of the night in grat.i.tude to heaven for the champion sent to her defence. Then, when in pity she has hastened down to _Ortrud_, the latter pours doubts regarding her champion into _Elsa's_ mind. Who is he? Whence came he? May he not as unexpectedly depart? The whole closes with a beautiful duet, which is repeated by the orchestra, as _Ortrud_ is conducted by _Elsa_ into the apartment.

It is early morn. People begin to gather in the open place before the minster and, by the time the sun is high, the s.p.a.ce is crowded with folk eager to view the bridal procession. They sing a fine and spirited chorus.

At the appointed hour four pages come out upon the balcony of the kemenate and cry out:

"Make way, our Lady Elsa comes!" Descending, they clear a path through the crowd to the steps of the minster. A long train of richly clad women emerges upon the balcony, slowly comes down the steps and, proceeding past the palace, winds toward the minster. At that moment a great shout, "Hail! Elsa of Brabant!" goes up, as the bride herself appears followed by her ladies-in-waiting. For the moment _Ortrud's_ presence in the train is unnoticed, but as _Elsa_ approaches the minster, _Frederick's_ wife suddenly throws herself in her path.

"Back, Elsa!" she cries. "I am not a menial, born to follow you!

Although your Knight has overthrown my husband, you cannot boast of who he is--his very name, the place whence he came, are unknown.

Strong must be his motives to forbid you to question him. To what foul disgrace would he be brought were he compelled to answer!"

Fortunately the _King_, the bridegroom, and the n.o.bles approaching from the palace, _Elsa_ shrinks from _Ortrud_ to her champion's side and hides her face against his breast. At that moment _Frederick of Telramund_, taking his cue from _Ortrud_, comes out upon the minster steps and repeats his wife's accusation. Then, profiting by the confusion, he slips away in the crowd. The insidious poison, however, has already begun to take effect. For even as the _King_ taking the Knight on his right and _Elsa_ on his left conducts them up the minster steps, the trembling bride catches sight of _Ortrud_ whose hand is raised in threat and warning; and it is clinging to her champion, in love indeed but love mingled with doubt and fear, that she pa.s.ses through the portal, and into the edifice.

These are crucial scenes. The procession to the minster, often known as the bridal procession, must not be confused with the "Bridal Chorus." It is familiar music, however, because at weddings it often is played softly as a musical background to the ceremony.

Act III. The wedding festivities are described in the brilliant "Introduction to Act III." This is followed in the opera by the "Bridal Chorus," which, wherever heard--on stage or in church--falls with renewed freshness and significance upon the ear. In this scene the Knight and _Elsa_ are conducted to the bridal chamber in the castle. From the right enter _Elsa's_ ladies-in-waiting leading the bride; from the left the _King_ and n.o.bles leading the Knight.

Preceding both trains are pages bearing lights; and voices chant the bridal chorus. The _King_ ceremoniously embraces the couple and then the procession makes its way out, until, as the last strains of the chorus die away, _Elsa_ and her champion are for the first time alone.

It should be a moment of supreme happiness for both, and indeed, _Elsa_ exclaims as her bridegroom takes her to his arms, that words cannot give expression to all its hidden sweetness. Yet, when he tenderly breathes her name, it serves only to remind her that she cannot respond by uttering his. "How sweetly sounds my name when spoken by you, while I, alas, cannot reply with yours. Surely, some day, you will tell me, all in secret, and I shall be able to whisper it when none but you is near!"

In her words the Knight perceives but too clearly the seeds of the fatal mistrust sown by _Ortrud_ and _Frederick_. Gently he leaves her side and throwing open the cas.e.m.e.nt, points to the moonlit landscape where the river winds its course along the plain. The same subtle magic that can conjure up this scene from the night has brought him to her, made him love her, and give unshrinking credence to her vow never to question his name or origin. Will she now wantonly destroy the wondrous spell of moonlight and love?

But still _Elsa_ urges him. "Let me be flattered by your trust and confidence. Your secret will be safe in my heart. No threats, not even of death, shall tear it from my lips. Tell me who you are and whence you come!"

"Elsa!" he cries, "come to my heart. Let me feel that happiness is mine at last. Let your love and confidence compensate me for what I have left behind me. Cast dark suspicion aside. For know, I came not hither from night and grieving but from the abode of light and n.o.ble pleasures."

But his words have the very opposite effect of what he had hoped for.

"Heaven help me!" exclaims _Elsa_. "What must I hear! Already you are beginning to look back with longing to the joys you have given up for me. Some day you will leave me to sorrow and regret. I have no magic spells wherewith to hold you. Ah!"--and now she cries out like one distracted and with eyes straining at distance--"See!--the swan!--I see him floating on the waters yonder! You summon him, embark!--Love--madness--whatever it may be--your name declare, your lineage and your home!"

Hardly have these mad words been spoken by her when, as she stands before her husband of a few hours, she sees something that with a sudden shock brings her to her senses. Rushing to the divan where the pages laid the Knight's sword, she seizes it and thrusts it into his hand, and he, turning to discover what peril threatens, sees _Frederick_, followed by four Brabantian n.o.bles, burst into the room.

With one stroke he lays the leader lifeless, and the others, seeing him fall, go down on their knees in token of submission. At a sign from the Knight they arise and, lifting _Frederick's_ body, bear it away. Then the Knight summons _Elsa's_ ladies-in-waiting and bids them prepare her in her richest garments to meet him before the _King_.

"There I will make fitting answer to her questions, tell her my name, my rank, and whence I come."

Sadly he watches her being led away, while she, no longer the happy bride, but the picture of utter dejection, turns and raises her hands to him in supplication as though she would still implore him to undo the ruin her lack of faith in him has wrought.

Some of the most beautiful as well as some of the most dramatic music of the score occurs in these scenes.