Great Opera Stories Part 10

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 n.o.ble knight of her dream would not fail her. G.o.d 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 sh.o.r.e. 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 s.h.i.+eld 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 n.o.ble knight had stepped to the sh.o.r.e. 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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.ble 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 s.h.i.+eld, 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 s.h.i.+eld, 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. G.o.d gave Might to the arm of the Knight. But a few pa.s.ses 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 s.h.i.+eld from the tree behind him. The Saxons, the Thuringians, the Brabantians, resumed their swords.

G.o.d 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.

III

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 d.u.c.h.ess 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 a.s.sist 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 n.o.bles walked proudly down the palace steps and stood before the cathedral, waiting. All eyes were fixed upon the balcony before the abode of the d.u.c.h.ess 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 d.u.c.h.ess Elsa to pa.s.s 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 s.h.i.+ne like a star. Was she not going to meet her Knight, him whom G.o.d had sent to defend her?