Operas Every Child Should Know

The Masters following him recognized the truth of all that Hans Sachs had spoken, and presently dropped the paper in amazement. They became lost in listening to the music, which swelled higher and higher, growing more and more beautiful with every measure, till all the people of Nuremberg sat spellbound. At last:

"His prize, his prize!" they shouted; and Pogner came to him weeping with joy.

"It is thy doing," Walther said tremblingly to Hans; and then he was conducted to where Eva awaited him. He stooped and she placed the victor's wreath upon his head. But that was not the end. The Mastersingers turned to Pogner:

"Herr Pogner, it is thy right to crown the knight who has won this prize," and with that Pogner hung a golden chain about Walther's neck, from which was suspended three medals. Walther would have refused it.

"I have a dearer prize than this, my friends," he cried, looking at Eva.

"Nay, take thy chain, too," Sachs urged him, smiling. "That shall be the sign of the Mastersingers' approval." Walther bowed his head and received the chain, while the people stood up and shouted.

Thus in one day, the knight, Walther von Stolzing, became a bridegroom and a Mastersinger.

LOHENGRIN

CHARACTERS OF THE OPERA

Lohengrin, Knight of the Holy Grail.

Henry I, King of Germany.

Frederick of Telramund, a noble of Brabant.

The Royal Herald.

Gottfried, Elsa's brother, and mute.

Four nobles of Brabant.

Elsa von Brabant.

Ortrud, wife of Telramund.

Four pages.

Saxons, nobles of Brabant, ladies, and pages.

The story is laid in Antwerp, during the first half of the tenth century.

First production at Weimar, Germany, August 28, 1850.

Composer: Richard Wagner.

ACT I

On a meadow on the banks on the river Scheldt, King Henry and his Saxon nobles were one day assembled in their hall of justice, which in those times was beneath a broad-spreading oak. From another petty German political division had come Frederick of Telramund, with his wife Ortrud. In turn they were surrounded by their own retainers from their province, but all were assembled at King Henry's call to rally in defence of the Kingdom.

When all were awaiting Henry's will, his Herald stepped forth and blew a blast upon his trumpet.

"Hark! Princes, Nobles, Freemen of Brabant! Our sovereign has called ye all to rally to his defence. May he count upon the loyalty of all?"

At once, the nobles took up the cry, and welcomed their sovereign to the country. Then King Henry thanked them for their good will and made the following announcement:

"Nobles, Freemen, all! I come not only to receive this welcome, but to tell ye that Germany is in danger of invasion from the Hungarian hordes; and that upon our frontiers there are German wives and children praying for our protecting arms. As the nation's guardian it is fitting that I make an end of this misrule which has left us threatened again and again by this lawless people. As ye will recall, I made a nine years' truce with our enemies, when they last tormented us; and now the time is past, they demand a tribute which, for the sake of our people, I have refused them. It is time for us to up and arm against them, and once for all defeat them."

Henry spoke earnestly, with evident devotion to his subjects, and both Saxons and Brabantians responded, but the men of Brabant looked to their immediate Lord, Frederick of Telramund, for assent. He hesitated a moment, and then stepped before the King.

"Great King," he said, "thou art here to judge, to listen to the differences of thy people, to make wrong right, so far as in thee lies, and on my part I will not stoop to falsehood. I have a grievance. Thou knowest when death took away our beloved Duke, his children, Elsa and Gottfried, were left in my charge. I became their guardian. I treasured them and guarded their interests valiantly; but one day, the two wandered forth into the forest. In time Elsa, the elder, returned, trembling and seemingly full of fear. She was alone, and when questioned about the safety of her young brother could tell us nothing. We sought for him, but never found him. She pretended to be in great distress, but her manner betrayed her guilt; of that I am certain. There were but they two, alone, and yet she could give us no intelligent story of his disappearance. A horror of the young girl fell upon me. I could not bear her in my sight, because I felt she was responsible for her young brother's death. Her hand had been offered me in marriage by her father, but feeling that she was guilty, I gave her up. I could not have married one who, in my mind, was so wicked. Therefore I have chosen another wife, Ortrud of Radbod." As he spoke, he brought his wife before the King and she made an obeisance.

"Now, my sovereign, I here charge the Lady Elsa with the crime, and ask thee to punish her as may be fitting. I also claim that as a fratricide she has forfeited her claim to all her lands; and as her nearest kinsman, I claim them." There ensued a painful silence, because the Lady Elsa of Brabant was a beautiful and gentle creature, and it was difficult for any one to believe such a monstrous story of her. Then arose a great outcry against the statement.

"Telramund, what hast thou said? This is a dreadful accusation."

"A fearful thing, indeed, Frederick," the good King protested.

"But if thou wilt consider, great King, there is cause for my belief. The maid, believing herself sole sovereign of Brabant, now that the boy was dead, became dreamy and strange, thinking upon some other with whom she might wish to share both her fortune and her power. Me she disdained, after her younger brother was gone."

The just King became very thoughtful for a time, then he said sadly:

"Summon the accused maid, and all of ye prepare to utter a just judgment. Heaven help me to judge her rightly!"

The Herald again sounded his trumpet.

"Dost thou determine to hold thy court of judgment here, O King?"

"Aye! I will not rest beneath my shield until the truth is sifted." Then all the Saxon nobles, who had instantly bared their swords, struck them against the earth, but those of Brabant laid theirs flat upon the ground.

Scene II

"Appear, ye royal maid, appear!" the Herald cried, and slowly from behind the crowd of nobles the beautiful Elsa appeared. She left the ladies of her court behind her, and stood forth quite alone.

"Behold!" all cried. "See how her face is clouded with sorrow!" She appeared so beautiful and innocent that no one could believe in her guilt.

The King asked her if she were willing to recognize him as her sovereign and to abide by his judgment, and she bowed her head.

"Dost thou know the crime with which thou art charged?" he asked. Elsa looked toward Ortrud and Telramund, and bowed her head. "Canst thou deny the accusation?" he demanded in a kind voice. She shook her head, sadly, for she was without defence.

"Then dost thou confess thy guilt?" he persisted, but her only answer was:

"Oh, my poor brother!" All those present looked sorrowfully at her. The King was much touched by her hopeless bearing.

"Come, Lady, confide freely in thy sovereign."

Then she stood alone and told what she knew had happened, as if she were speaking in a dream.

[Listen]

Oft when hours were lonely, I unto Heav'n have prayed,One boon I asked for, only, to send the orphans aid;I prayed in tears and sorrow, with heavy heart and sore,Hoping a brighter morrow yet was for us in store.Afar my words were wafted, I dreamt not help was nigh,But one on high vouchsafed it, while I in sleep did lie.I saw in splendour shining, a knight of glorious mien,On me his eyes inclining with tranquil gaze serene.A horn of gold beside him, he leant upon his sword,Thus when I erst espied him 'mid clouds of light he soar'd;His words so low and tender brought life renewed to me.My guardian, my defender, thou shalt my champion be!

Thus she sang, while all present looked at her in amazement.

"She dreams!" they cried.

"Frederick of Telramund," the King cried, "it is hard to believe wrong of this maiden. Think, while yet there is time, of what ye say! Do not let any hate in thy heart make thee wrong a defenceless girl," he cautioned, while all the nobles protested that it seemed impossible she could have done so foul a thing as that of which she was accused.

"Her dreamy mood may deceive thee," Frederick said, "but it has never deceived me. Do ye not hear that she raves about a lover? I declare that I have spoken truly, and who will dare give me the lie?" Whereupon all the nobles of Brabant came forward to uphold their Lord.

"We stand by thee, Frederick of Brabant," they cried.

"I have always known thee to be honourable," the King replied, turning his eyes sadly upon Elsa, who still stood gazing ahead of her, as if half dreaming, or maybe seeing the vision she had described.

"Elsa of Brabant, I have no choice but to let Heaven decide for thee. I have no proof of thy guilt or innocence. This knight Frederick is known to me as an honourable man, and I cannot slight his word, so Heaven alone can help thee." The King drew his sword and struck it against the ground.

"Answer me, Frederick, wilt thou do battle here with whoever may appear to defend this Lady?"

"I will, right valiantly," he answered, his wife urging him on to all that he said.

"And thou, Elsa, wilt thou name thy champion, and leave thy honour in his hands?"

"Aye," she answered, simply.

"Then name the man," the King demanded.

"Now we shall hear the name of her lover," Frederick said hastily. "It will surely be he who was her accomplice."

"To whomsoever will defend me I will give all my lands and love," she answered firmly, waiting for some knight to stand out from the others, and declare for her cause and defence.

Each looked at the other, but no one spoke or moved. Then the King cried:

"Sound the trumpet! Call the warrior knight by thy bugle!" The Herald advanced with four trumpeters, whom he turned toward north, south, east, and west, and had them sound their trumps.

"Who will here do battle for Elsa of Brabant," he shouted. No one answered and the lonely, defenceless Elsa looked about pitifully, in great anxiety.

"Ah, ye see how poor a cause she hath!" Frederick called, pointing to her.

"Dear sovereign, once again I beg the right to call for a defender. My knight dwells afar off, and cannot arrive at once."

"Again sound thy trumpets," the King directed the Herald, and again they called to the four points of the compass. Still all was silent. Then Elsa sank upon her knees, while the ladies of her court came forward to crowd protectingly about her because they loved her very much. She prayed earnestly that some defender might come to her, and so affected were all present, except Frederick and his wife, that all joined in her prayer.

Then a strange thing happened; those standing nearest the water's edge saw a boat coming up the river, drawn by a lovely swan. In the boat stood a handsome knight, so beautiful and kind of face, and so glittering with silver armour, that they fairly held their breath in admiration.

"See!" they cried. "Some one – a marvellous man appears upon the river." All the others, excepting Elsa, who remained upon her knees, went back to the river's edge to look.

"Oh, he is a brave knight – he stands in the prow – his armour gleams like the sun – a swan draws him. He wears a helmet of light upon his brow. He is nearing the shore! – He has golden reins upon his swan." All but the King, Telramund, Ortrud, and Elsa were crowding about the river's bank, to see the glorious sight.

Frederick and Ortrud were frightened, and cast strange looks of fear at each other; the King rose from his seat to see; but Elsa, overcome with joy, remained where she was, not even looking around.

"It is a miracle wrought among us," the nobles cried, and all the ladies of the court fell upon their knees.

Scene III

The gorgeous knight drew to the shore. He wore his shield upon his back, a little silver horn at his side, and he glittered and gleamed in his beautiful armour in a way almost sufficient to blind one. The people fell back to let him land, and Frederick looked frightened, while the moment Ortrud saw the swan she was for some reason seized with a terrible fright. As everybody bowed their heads, having doffed their helmets, Elsa looked around and gave one great cry of joy at the sight of her champion, who was the knight of her dream.

Lohengrin – for it was he – stepped from his boat, and with one foot upon the shore and one upon his boat gave thanks to his swan for having borne him so swiftly and safely.

"Now, thou trusty swan, return at once to that land whence we came, and rejoice, for thy task is over." After he had bade it farewell, the stately swan slowly sailed away.

Lohengrin came toward the King and bowed low.

"Hail! gracious sovereign. Thy name shall ever stand proudly in this land. I have come to fight for this dear maid's honour. I ask her, before thee all, if she will entrust to me her fame?" Elsa, so tender and confiding, sank upon her knees before him.

"If thou wilt protect me I am thine forever," she answered.

"I must ask of thee one promise in return, dear maid. It is this: If I win the fight in thy cause, and thou become my bride, never, as thou dost love me, must thou ask whence I came. I must never be asked by thee my name or race. This one promise alone must I crave of thee." He waited hopefully for her answer.

His appearance was so noble that none could doubt him, and she answered instantly:

"There is no doubt of thee in my heart, dear defender. I will never question thee. I will ever cherish thy command." He raised her to her feet, and embraced her.

"I shall guard and love thee always," Lohengrin answered, and led her to the King who gave her into his charge. After that he stepped into the midst of the crowd of nobles.

"I want you all to know that this maid is innocent. The tales of Frederick of Telramund are false, and now I shall prove it by vanquishing him in the fight. Great King, command us to begin." The company drew back to their places, and the King commanded six knights to measure a certain space upon each side, which he declared was a fenced field for the combat. Three Saxon nobles advanced for Lohengrin and three Brabantians for Frederick. When they had formed a circle, all stuck their spears into the ground and waited.

The Herald declared that any one who interfered should lose his head. He also declared that neither combatant should use magic arts in fighting. The King stepped into the circle made for the fighters, and prayed to Heaven to let the right conquer; to give the champion of the right a stronger arm and more skill than his enemy.

The six men forming the circle stood beside their spears which were stuck into the ground; the other nobles and freemen formed a larger circle outside the battle ground, while Elsa and her ladies stood in front, beneath the oak tree beside the King, and the fighters prepared to enter the circle. The King struck his sword three times upon his great shield which hung upon the tree, as a signal to begin. At the first stroke the fighters entered the circle; at the second stroke they raised their shields and drew their swords; at the third stroke they began the fight. After a mighty battle, Frederick fell, and Lohengrin placed the point of his sword at his throat.

"I shall spare thee, Frederick of Telramund. Repent in peace," he said, standing aside that Telramund might get up from the ground. The six men drew their spears from the ground, and the others who had taken sides put their swords back into their scabbards, while Elsa rushed into the knight's arms. The King cried to Lohengrin:

"Hail!" As Elsa sank upon the knight's breast, she sang of her love for him and of her faith, and all rejoiced in having her innocence proven, except Ortrud. She, indeed, looked dark and menacing.

"How comes my power to naught?" she questioned of her husband aside, for in reality she was a wicked enchantress, who had lived in the wood near to Frederick. Her wicked magic had turned him into a bad man, and it was she who had made him accuse Elsa.

But the fear and resentment of those wicked people made little impression upon the crowd of exultant nobles. The King banished Frederick and his wife, ordering them immediately to leave the place, while plans for the wedding of Elsa and Lohengrin were being made. Frederick fell senseless upon the ground, and the youths, spreading their mantles upon the shield of the King, hoisted Elsa upon it, and a rejoicing procession of ladies, knights, and retainers moved away.

ACT II

In the great palace of King Henry I, at Antwerp, there were two parts, called the Palas, and the Kemenate. The former was where the knights lived, and the latter was the home of the ladies of the court. Late on the night of the battle between Frederick and Lohengrin, Frederick and his wife, Ortrud, were sitting without the palace, which was brightly illuminated, thinking of the misfortunes their wickedness had brought upon them. They were dressed in the garments of outcasts, as the King had commanded, and especially was Frederick gazing at the brightly lighted part where the knights were doubtless making merry since the wedding of Lohengrin and Elsa was to be on the morrow. He knew that had he been an honest man, he would have been among them and happy.

Music could be heard floating from the palace windows, and everything spoke of gaiety and happiness.

"Come, arouse thyself, Ortrud. You have brought this upon us, now rouse thyself, since it is near day, and we must be gone out of the city."

"I cannot flee! Some strange thing holds me here. I shall avenge us, you may be sure before I have gone from this place." She rose from the steps upon which she had been reclining and went toward the palace, looking up at the windows where the women dwelt in the Kemenate.

"I don't know what spell binds me to a woman so wicked as thou art, Ortrud," Frederick exclaimed, watching her moodily. "I should leave thee, and cast thee off. To tell the truth I never believed the crimes with which I charged that maiden."

"Get thyself up," she cried to him, for he had thrown himself upon the ground. "Thou art but a chicken-hearted creature, not fit for an heroic woman like me."

"Thou art a black-hearted woman," he answered, and so they fell to quarrelling vigorously. But at last, each being quite lost to goodness, they felt their only help lay in each other.

"If thou wilt be a decently conducted husband toward me, I tell thee I will use my enchantments to undo that strange knight, and then all will be well with us." The lights in the palace began to go out, one by one. "Now is the hour when the stars reveal their secrets to me, Telramund," she said. "Sit here by me, and I will tell you who that swan was who drew the knight's boat upon the river. It was the brother of Elsa – enchanted, – whom we accused her of destroying. More than that, the knight is ruined if the secret of his home and his birth is discovered. If Elsa can be made to break her promise, and get him to reveal these things, he will be compelled to leave her and return whence he came. No one but she hath the power to drag the secret from him; but should she do so, it is as I have said: all happiness is over for them."

"But she has promised – she will never ask that fatal question."

"Do thou go forth and say that sorcery hath triumphed over thee, and leave the rest to me. Rouse suspicion about this knight in every breast. He who will not tell of his birth nor land is soon suspected. Say that he won the fight by magic, and I will see that Elsa asks the fatal question."

"She will never do it – "

"Well, suppose she does not; the magic of my father is not forgotten by me. Let me tell you how we may force his ruin, even if we cannot make her break her word. If that knight should lose one drop of blood, he would be lost. All his power would then be gone."

"Oh, if I had but pricked his finger in the fight!"

"He would have been completely in thy power." As she said this, the door of the Kemenate slowly opened, and Elsa came out upon the balcony.

Scene II

Elsa was clothed all in white, and she came out into the night to think alone of her knight, to thank Heaven for her deliverance, and to take new vows of faith and steadfastness to her promise. All the while she stood there, Frederick and Ortrud were watching her from below, where they sat upon the steps.

"Now away!" she whispered to Telramund. "It is for me to be left alone with this affair. I shall speak with her." Telramund, hoping that by fair or foul means his wife would win him back his forfeited knighthood, departed. After a little Ortrud called in a very sweet but sad voice:

"Elsa!" Elsa started and looked over the balcony.

"Ortrud! What art thou doing here? Wert thou not told to go far away from this place, where you tried so hard to wrong me?"

"Alas! Elsa, can you who are so happy, speak harshly to one so forlorn and deserted? Indeed it was not I who harmed thee. Telramund had some strange delusion, and it was he who cast a doubt upon thee. Now his eyes are opened and he is wandering sadly and alone; but I have done thee no harm. It was he who accused thee. I could not stay him. Yet I must suffer for it all, while thou art happy and serene. I am glad of thy happiness, but do not let it make thee unfeeling toward one who is so wretched."

That touched the soft heart of Elsa, and she listened kindly. After a little she spoke words of comfort to Ortrud:

"Hast thou no place to go this night?"

"Nay! We are quite abandoned; but I could rest well enough upon these steps if I did not remember that you had suffered through Telramund." That made Elsa's generous heart trouble her.

"Thou must come in, and stay this night with me," she said. "Wait here and I shall return." She went back into the Kemenate, and the moment she was left alone, Ortrud began rejoicing in the wickedest way, because she had been thus far successful in deceiving Elsa. Elsa returned with two of her maids bearing lights.

"Where art thou, Ortrud?" Elsa called before opening the door below the balcony; and the sorceress threw herself upon her knees and answered sweetly:

"Here, kneeling before thee, generous maiden."

"Thou art worn and unhappy, and to-morrow is my wedding day. I could not be gay and know that thou wert suffering, so come in with me, and sleep beside me, and to-morrow array thyself in fine clothing and be happy with the rest of us." Ortrud pretended great happiness and gratitude upon hearing this.

"Ah! Who would betray so gentle and trusting a maid?" Ortrud sighed. "I pray that the glamour which surrounds thy knight who was brought hither by magic may never depart and leave thee miserable." She sighed again, as if she had some secret fear.

"Oh, I could not doubt him," Elsa cried. But the same moment a little seed of distrust entered her heart. It was true she knew nothing of whence he had come; and moreover was forbidden to ask.

"Nay. Thou must never doubt him," Ortrud said plausibly, "since thy lips are forever sealed and ye can never ask one of those questions which other maidens and wives may ask their husbands and lovers. It would not do to doubt him. Thou must try to believe he is true and good, as he himself has said."

Elsa looked doubtfully at Ortrud, whose words had made a sad impression upon her, and yet she loved the knight so well she would not own it. But Ortrud guessed perfectly that already she had made Elsa suspicious and unhappy.

Trying to shake off the apprehension that was settling upon her because of the wicked woman's words, Elsa led the way into the palace, and the maids locked the door, and the day almost immediately began to break. Frederick came prowling back, like some bad animal, looking after the two women who had gone within.

"There went a woman of darkness!" he murmured, "but I can trust her magic and her godless spirit to win back my fortunes." While he was thinking upon these things the day dawned and two warders blew a blast from the turret where they walked, which announced the wedding morning of the knight and Elsa. A warder in another turret answered with his trumpet, and soon people began to assemble from all the country round. Frederick looked about for some place to conceal himself from the crowd. Seeing some projecting ornamentation upon the porch of the place where he and Ortrud had sat, he slipped behind and waited.