Great Opera Stories Part 9

The people were in confusion, the Masters were amazed. They all turned to Hans Sachs for an explanation. He picked up the paper, smoothed it out, handed it to the Masters, and said:

"No, the song is not mine. I could not hope to compose anything so beautiful."

Beautiful? The Masters were incredulous. Hans Sachs must be joking. But he went on.

"Yes, beautiful. Master Beckmesser has sung it incorrectly. The one who wrote it could render it in a manner that would prove its beauty beyond a doubt." Raising his voice, he called:

"Let the one who can sing the song step forward."

And to the great surprise of all, Sir Walter von Stolzing, clad in glittering knightly apparel, came from the crowd. He bowed courteously to the Masters, and won the hearts of all by his n.o.ble looks and his manly bearing. He stepped lightly upon the mound, mused a moment, and then began his song of the dream. And, as before, the words, the music, gushed forth from his full heart. He put all his love, all his yearning, into the melody he sang. His voice swelled upward like the rising tide.

And when it reached the full, the rapture of it touched the hearts of all who listened. The song was finished. A hush fell upon the Masters and people alike. But only for a moment; soon a glad shout arose:

"Master Singer! Master Singer!"

And Sir Walter von Stolzing knew that the victory was his.

They led him to the fair Eva and placed her hand in his. While the people waved and sang, she placed a wreath of laurel upon his head. It was his beautiful dream coming true. Then the Masters hung a chain of gold around his neck, which showed that he was a member of the guild.

Sir Walter thought of the treatment that he had received the day before at the trial meeting, and he was about to refuse. But Hans Sachs arose and spoke gravely of the reverence due to the Art of Song. And Walter forgot his bitterness, and thought only of his love and future happiness with Eva by his side.

And so with the people singing,

"Hail, all hail Nuremberg's beloved Hans Sachs,"

Midsummer Day and the Song Festival came to an end.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LOHENGRIN, THE KNIGHT OF THE SWAN

I

Long years ago a maiden, fair as the morning itself, wandered through a lonely greenwood in the Duchy of Brabant. She was Elsa, only daughter of the late Duke of Brabant, who had died but a short time before this story begins.

Although Elsa was the rightful owner of all the wooded lands and fertile fields for miles and miles around, she was far from happy. Although summer lay warm and fragrant over those lands, and flowers blossomed along her pathway, yet Elsa's heart was heavy within her. She was full of sorrow. For, not long before, while walking in those self-same woods, her brother G.o.dfrey had suddenly and unaccountably disappeared from her side. Elsa had searched and searched. She had wept, she had prayed, but all in vain. No trace of him had she found anywhere. Spent with grief and anxiety, she had run to her guardian, Frederick of Telramund, and told him the story. But Frederick had repulsed her with unkind glances and cruel words. He had even accused her of doing away with her poor brother, that she might claim the entire Duchy of Brabant for herself.

This guardian, Frederick of Telramund, knew well enough that Elsa was incapable of so foul a deed. He knew that she had loved her brother G.o.dfrey far too well to do him harm. But Frederick had coveted the rich lands and vast possessions of Brabant for many a year. And he was determined to get them now by fair means or foul. Moreover, he had married the pagan princess Ortrud, who was every whit as evil-minded and ambitious as he. Ortrud's father, a heathen prince, had once owned part of Brabant, and they were confident that, with G.o.dfrey and Elsa out of the way, they could lay claim to the whole Duchy. How they plotted and schemed together against poor Elsa!

Do you wonder, then, that Elsa walked through the forest on that morning long ago, with downcast eyes, oblivious to all save her own sad thoughts? Her father was dead, her brother was gone, her guardian had proved false. To whom should she turn for guidance? Weary and perplexed, she sank down beneath the sheltering branches of a friendly tree near by. All was calm and still. Her tired eyes rested upon the deep blue dome of the sky, and thoughts of G.o.d, the All-Father, filled her mind.

Ah, she could put her trust in Him. And a prayer for help arose from her heart. Perhaps it was the answer to her prayer, perhaps it was only a dream, but then and there Elsa saw a marvelous vision. The heavens opened, and disclosed a n.o.ble knight. Enveloped in heavenly light, this knight descended to earth, and stood before Elsa. He smiled upon her, and, like a miracle, she became tranquil and unafraid. He was so strong, so stalwart, so brave! His s.h.i.+ning white armor glittered in the sunlight. A glistening sword hung by his side, a golden horn from his shoulder. His eyes were kind. There was comfort in his voice.

"Arise!" spoke he, "and go your way. Be of good cheer, and fear not, for when your need is sorest, I will come to defend you."

Then he vanished. Elsa was alone in the greenwood.

II

Just at this time the King of all Germany came down to Brabant. With pomp and ceremony he came, bringing rough knights from Saxony and brave n.o.bles from Thuringia, all good men and true, to bear him company.

Henry the First was he, a wise king and a just. People called him Henry the Fowler because he was so fond of hunting. It may be, however, that it was not the hunt that he loved so much as the great out-of-doors, the wide plains, the wild forests, the winding rivers. Whenever he summoned his faithful subjects to discuss affairs of peace or war, he chose some meeting place under the blue sky, in G.o.d's temple, where men breathe deeply, think clearly, and judge rightly.

So, when at Brabant King Henry found no duke to greet him; when, instead, he heard of strife, of discord, and of strange whispers, he sat himself down beneath a giant oak on the bank of the winding river Scheldt. And the trumpeters blew a great blast, the herald proclaimed the King's presence, the trusty men who had come to bear him company stood at arms, while the Brabantians gathered from north and south, from east and west, of the Duchy to hearken to the King's word.

"I had come here, my good people," began the King, "to ask the aid of your forces in subduing the wild Hungarian foe. Full well do I know that as loyal German subjects you are ready to answer your country's call. But I find discord in your midst, strife and confusion. Therefore have I called you together to learn the causes thereof and to deal justly with the offenders, be it possible."

The people of Brabant were pleased with the King's words and looked to Frederick of Telramund to make answer. Frederick arose. Behind him stood his wife, the dark-haired princess Ortrud, ready to prompt him should he hesitate.

But false Frederick did not hesitate. His voice did not tremble, although he spoke with much show of grief. He made a low obeisance to the King and besought sympathy for the sad tale he was about to tell. He told how the dying Duke had intrusted Elsa and G.o.dfrey to his care, how tenderly he had reared them, how devotedly he had loved them, and how sorely the mysterious disappearance of G.o.dfrey had grieved him. And then, he continued, he had been forced to believe that Elsa had murdered her brother in order to claim the whole Duchy for herself--or mayhap--for some secret lover. Therefore he, Frederick of Telramund, and his wife Ortrud, by right of inheritance, besought the King to make them Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Brabant.

"An astounding story indeed!" The free-men muttered to each other. The n.o.bles looked at Frederick and shook their heads. "The man must be sure of his proof to make such an accusation," said they, as they turned toward the King.

King Henry sat with bowed head, in deep thought. He ran his hand over his forehead, pondered a moment, and then murmured:

"So foul a deed!"

Aloud he said:

"I would see this maid. I would look upon her face. I would hear her tale. And may G.o.d guide my judgment aright."

Hanging his s.h.i.+eld on the giant oak behind him, King Henry swore never to wear it again until justice had been done. And all the German n.o.bles drew their swords and thrust them, points down, into the ground, swearing never to wear them again until justice had been done. And the men of Brabant laid their swords at their feet, swearing the same. Then the herald summoned Elsa.

She came, the fair-haired Elsa, clad all in white, with her train of ladies, all in white, behind her. They paused, and she, with hands clasped and eyes cast down, advanced timidly, slowly, alone, until she stood before the King. Her golden hair, unbound, hung a cloud of glory about her. How young she was! How lovely! The rough knights gazed upon her, and their eyes filled with tears. Surely no maiden with such a face could be guilty of such a crime.

The King spoke very gently. Was she Elsa of Brabant? She bowed her head. Did she know the heavy charge that had been brought against her?

She bowed again. Was she willing that he, King Henry, should judge her?

Once more her head was bowed in a.s.sent. And it was only when the King asked whether she was guilty of this murder that Elsa found voice. She wrung her hands piteously, and exclaimed, "Oh, my poor, poor brother!"

A dreamy look was upon Elsa's face as she told her story. Her voice trembled, and her eyes strayed over the distant hills. It was as though she saw it all again.

She told of that day in the woods, her sad walk alone, her deep grief, her utter weariness. She told of her rest beneath the friendly tree and of the blue heaven overhead. But when she told of her prayer to G.o.d for guidance in her distress, her faltering voice grew stronger, braver.

Rapturously, she told of her dream, and of the n.o.ble knight whose white armor had glittered in the sunlight, of his sword, his horn, and, last, of his promise.

"Him will I trust!" she cried. "He shall my Champion be!"

The knights, the n.o.bles, the King, were startled. But Frederick of Telramund cried out.

"Such words do not mislead me. See! does she not speak of a secret lover? What further proof do you need? Here stand I, and here's my sword, both ready to fight for my honor."

Now since King Henry believed that G.o.d in His wisdom would surely give might to the hands that fought for Right, he asked Frederick if he were ready to fight for life or death to uphold this charge that he had brought.

Frederick answered, "Yes."